Rain pitter patters against the windows of Satoru’s oversized screaming-old-money apartment, the pattering sound of it blending into the background, the voices and music coming from the TV too loud for an atmosphere that is anything but, some trashy reality show running no one pays any mind to anymore. 

You’re sitting in between Satoru and Suguru, your best friends ever since your high school days, and both of them have their red wine stained lips somewhere on the overheated skin of your neck. You can’t say how you ended up in this position – not the sitting in between them thing, but the kissing thing. Because it’s absolutely not what you normally do on saturday nights. 

Usually, your ‘fine dining’ - nights as Satoru likes to call them, are spent on the couch while watching TV, drinking wine and smoking too many cigarettes, a ritual you started at the beginning of your thirties because all three of you can’t be bothered with going out anymore, the thought of eating overpriced food or, god forbid, sweaty bodies of strangers rubbing against your own in some stuffy club, sending shivers down your spines. 

And that’s how tonight started too, normal, with you arriving at Satoru’s at eight on the dot, a shopping bag filled with cheap wine and an excuse of cheese and grapes hanging over your shoulder. You found them already sprawled out on the ridiculously expensive and much too large couch, joints clinging to their fingers, the whole flat smelling sweet and bitter from smoke. You took your place in between them, feet sliding under Suguru’s blanket, head resting on Satoru’s shoulder. 

And at some point between re-runs of too hot to handle and perfect match, your wine glasses ended up on the couch table, warm hands sliding over your thighs, up your body and under your oversized hoodie. It surprised you, made you freeze and wonder if you maybe fell asleep and are now having one of your frequent wet dreams, but – 

It feels too real, the grazing of Suguru’s teeth over the shell of your ear a little too sharp, Satoru’s fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your waist a little too harshly and in a way that’s sure to leave small blooming bruises. In your dreams both of them are always soft, tender and careful, you always begging for more. 

And now you’re getting more, and it’s really happening here and right now and you can’t help but ask yourself if you’re really ready for this or if you’re, maybe, a little in over your head. Satoru’s hands wrap around your waist and he’s pulling you closer, up his legs so you’re straddling his lap, lips hovering against your own, warmth spreading between you. 

There’s a pause, a heavy silence in the air, something lazy in the movement of limbs, something sweet gathering in the space between dry lips. Your own hands have settled on Satoru’s shoulders, palms resting and fingers holding on, the cotton of his sweater soft to the touch. You meet his sky-blue gaze, watch how they darken and blend into the blue of an endless ocean. 

“You two gettin’ the show on the road anytime soon?” 

Suguru’s deep voice breaks the silence that blanketed Satoru and you, an annoyed kind of amusement swinging in the syllables. 

“I was tryin’ to until you so rudely interrupted,” Satoru quips back, cutting the red string that connected your eyes in two, turning his head and looking at his oldest friend with a roll of his shoulders, with his fingers squeezing you one, two, three times. 

“Yeah, didn’t look like it,” Suguru chuckles, and there’s the clicking sound of a lighter, a cigarette being lit, smoke curling over the couch. Satoru’s already opening his mouth, probably with the intent of starting a verbal sparring match, and you use that moment to plant your lips on the side of his neck, on sensitive pale skin. No word comes over his lips, just the softest huff of breath, fingers tightening around your waist for a fraction of a moment. Your lips follow an invisible path up over the column of his throat, ghosting along his marble-sharp jawline until you end your journey with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

Satoru’s white lashes flutter, a peach-rose blush painted on his cheekbones, and you always knew he’d be pretty caught up in something intimate, but the reality of it catches you off-guard, heart skipping a few beats. You lean forward again and your lips finally meet in something chaste, something gentle that doesn’t really fit into the dynamic of your friendship you build up over decades of spending time with each other. 

Satoru seems to share that sentiment – the kiss growing more forceful, a strain in your neck from pushing back against the pressure of Satoru’s mouth. His fingers dig into your waist almost painfully, nails scratching over skin and you gasp against his lips, your own grip on his shoulders tightening. 

Of course Satoru uses that moment to overwhelm you with his sheer presence – 

His warm tongue invades your mouth, sliding against your own, flicking over teeth, pushing in, in and in until he’s all but thrusting it into your throat. You moan as much as you’re able to with Satoru’s tongue taking up all the space in your mouth, spit dripping out the corner of your mouth. 

Satoru pulls you closer, against him, against his hard dick hidden behind the grey cotton of his sweats. Another single hand joins Satoru’s on your skin, the palm of it rough with callouses, the touch of it more raw, the feeling of it overwhelming in its roughness – it’s the opposite to the silky smooth glide of Satoru’s hands and it sends you reeling, makes your head fuzzy around the edges. 

Satoru’s still busy kissing the living daylights out of you, so you can only feel and listen to Suguru moving, changing positions, straddling Satoru’s legs in the same way you are, his broad chest now a steady wall of heat behind you. Suguru hums non-chalantly, the rumble vibrating out of his chest and right into your bones, his hand moving further up your left side, over sensitive skin and ribs, up until he’s – holding your tit, cupping it in a way too tender for a man like him. 

“What’s this?” He breathes right against your ear, the deep timbre of his voice carving itself a home in your soul. “No bra? You always this cheap and easy or is it just because it’s us?” He ghosts his lips along the length of your neck, stopping at the junction where it meets your shoulder, leaving the slightest threat of a bite, just enough to tease. As if it wasn’t enough that his words alone made your pussy pulse, your walls clenching in time with every beat of your heart. 

Suguru takes another hit of his cigarette, smoke clouds making everything hazy and foggy. Satoru stops kissing you, retreats with kiss-swollen lips and the chaos of an upcoming storm shimmering in the depth of his eyes. 

“Gods, you’re so pretty,” he says, gaze roaming over your face, the blue of it so intense that it’d be easy enough to drown in it. He takes the cigarette Suguru offers, and a shaky breath leaves your mouth, your lungs, when you watch him take a drag, slender fingers holding on to it in a way that makes it look almost elegant, the slightest hollow to his cheeks, the orange burning glow highlighting every sharp edge of his face, shadows darting over pale skin in a playful dance. 

“And you’re beautiful,” you whisper, Suguru hooking his chin over your shoulder, both hands now holding on to your tits under the hoodie you’re wearing, making you yearn for something else, always more. 

“You didn’t answer my question, sweetie,” Suguru hums, something dangerous underlining the endearment. Satoru leans back further, watching both of you with rapt attention. 

“Am not easy,” you mutter after the few seconds you needed to remember the question he’s referring to. 

“Well, sweetie,” Suguru continues, hands sliding down the planes of your stomach, grabbing the hem of the hoodie and pulling it up. You lift your arms on autopilot, Suguru throwing the hoodie next to Satoru on the couch. Heat floods your cheeks when Satoru’s eyes focus on your tits now exposed for both men to see. “I’d beg to differ,” Suguru tells you, “This is what I’d call easy access.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” you moan, Suguru’s hands having travelled back up, forefingers brushing over your nipples. You arch into the hint of a touch, fingers gripping on to Satoru’s sweater, eyes closing. 

“Is that an invitation?” 

“Maybe,” you say around another moan, nipples hardening under the fleeting touches. 

“Yes or no,” Suguru says, teeth coming to rest on your naked shoulder, digging in, leaving indents, just shy of breaking skin. You try to gather your thoughts, Suguru thankfully not continuing with his teasing for the moment. 

You open your eyes again, taking a deep breath to ground yourself, to not lose your mind over the fact that this could be a moment that changes the dynamic between all three of you irrevocably. And fuck it – you want this, wanted it for years.

You always kind of longed to see lust flickering like fire in their eyes, to feel the flames sitting at the tip of their fingers all over your skin, to let them ignite every nerve ending in your body, to let them burn you to ashes. 

“Yes.”

The single word tumbles over your lips easily enough, rolls into the intimate bubble of space the three of you share. A grin spreads on Satoru’s face, dimples showing up on his cheeks, Suguru pressing a kiss against the skin on your shoulder where his teeth left a mark. 

Before you can even blink, Suguru’s warmth is gone from your back, the cigarette vanishing from between Satoru’s fingers. You can only hold on to Satoru’s shoulders when he suddenly gets up from the couch, his biceps bulging when he carries you with an ease that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. All three of you make your way to Satoru’s bedroom, Suguru being the first sitting down on the bed, back leaning against the headrest, legs spread wide, creating a space intended for you and Satoru to share. 

Satoru puts you down gently, your back once again resting against Suguru’s warm chest, while Satoru kneels down in front of you, crashing ocean waves raging in his eyes. The rough palms of Suguru’s hands start sliding up your stomach, holding on to the curve of your tits, thumbs drawing circles around your nipples. 

You moan, the touch sending sparks all over your skin, Satoru’s eyes, the way he looks at you, how he licks his lips mindlessly, sending another pulsing beat right into your pussy, slick dampening the cotton of your underwear. 

“Take off her pants,” Suguru says, commands, and you expect Satoru to be difficult just for the hell of it, because it’s his favorite thing to do especially in regards to everything Suguru says, but tonight he obeys immediately, seems not to even think about it. His fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder carelessly. 

And thank fucking god you shaved your legs this week. 

The thought almost makes you chuckle to yourself, but you’re distracted by Satoru shuffling closer, your legs now resting on either side of him. Suguru’s back to playing with your nipples, his touch either too harsh or too soft and slowly driving you absolutely insane. 

The worst thing is that he definitely knows what he’s doing to you – the deep rumble of his chuckle brushing over the skin on your neck, the twitch to the corners of Satoru’s lips when he meets Suguru’s gaze over the curve of your shoulder. Satoru comes even closer, hands wrapping around your thighs, lifting you until your ass is placed on his bent legs again. 

He leans down, meets your lips in a kiss that’s all teeth and spit and sucking on lips until they tingle, the soft cotton of his sweater brushing over your skin, the feeling once again a contrast to the roughness Suguru treats you with. 

You get kind of lost in it, in your kiss with Satoru, in the depth of it, a whole universe that wants to get explored, that wants to swallow you whole. You moan when he bites into your bottom lip, pulling it taut, letting it snap back just to claim your mouth again. One of Suguru’s hands travels down your stomach, reaching the cotton of your black thong, sliding down right between your legs. 

He huffs a laugh against the shell of your ear, brushes two of his fingers up and down over your folds, featherlight, the nothingness of it making you tremble. 

“Told you, you’re easy,” Suguru says, a little mean, and with a lot of sexiness sitting in his words. Satoru separates his lips from yours at Suguru’s words, a cute frown appearing on his face, a little crease showing up between his eyebrows you want to wipe away. 

Satoru comes close again, hovering only inches away from your face, his nose ghosting along the line of your jaw, up until he’s right next to your other ear, syrupy sweetness clinging to his next words. 

“You’re not easy,” he tells you, voice tinged with fondness, with something like reverence and worship you wouldn't have thought him capable of. “You’re doing so good, moaning all prettily, gettin’ all wet and sticky for us like a good girl.” 

You can’t help it – you moan loudly, his praise sliding smoothly down your throat like honey, your hips bucking up, searching for friction against Suguru’s fingers who, of course, promptly takes his hand away. 

“A good girl?” Suguru laughs again, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. “Nah, she’s just a greedy little thing.” Another moan, Suguru’s words hitting a place deep in your pussy like Satoru’s did just seconds before. It’s like an angel and devil sittin’ on your shoulders, whispering promises in your ear, tempting you with kisses tasting like sweet red wine, both tryin’ to be your undoing. 

It gives you whiplash, overwhelms you in the best of ways and needless to say, your thong is soaked at this point.

“Can I eat you out, sweetheart?” Satoru’s still sweet about it, his voice calm, the storm of rolling ocean waves in the blue of his eyes mellowed out to a calm sea luring you in. His hands rest on your thighs, thumbs stroking back and forth in a soothing motion, pace slow, almost lazy. 

“Please,” you say and Satoru smiles, blinds you with a prettiness that always seems effortless. 

Satoru shuffles down the bed again, lies down on his stomach between your legs, and you realise that both him and Suguru are still wearing all their clothes, that you’re the only one as good as naked and it sends another burst of heat through your body. Satoru hums, nose brushing over your inner thighs, ghosting over the cotton of your panties while he inhales deeply, a shaky moan slipping out of his mouth. 

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he whispers, and you don’t know if you and Suguru were meant to even hear it, Satoru’s attention solely fixed on the space between your legs. As always, Suguru and Satoru move in absolute sync with each other without needing to exchange any words, without meeting gazes or any kinds of signs. It’s as if they’re two parts fitting together as one, and where it sometimes left you feeling like an outsider in the past, right now, it feels like ascending into heaven. 

Satoru flattens his tongue, paints a spit soaked path up your pussy, starting at your hole and going up, wet cotton warm against your folds, his short journey ending with a flick against your clit. At the same time, Suguru starts kneading your tits, pinching your nipples until they’re hard and aching, until your back arches away from his chest. His lips are harsh against your neck, sucking blooming bruises on the sensitive skin there, a field of red and purple flowers getting painted on his chosen canvas that’s your body. 

Between your legs, Satoru’s kneeling again, pulling your panties down unceremoniously and then he’s – 

He’s burying his face in your pussy, tongue thrusting into you and nose bumping against your clit, his eyes rolling before they flutter shut in obvious bliss. He’s relentless, with a primal wildness to how he eats you out, your pussy leaking sticky slick, sliding down the crack of your ass, mixing up with Satoru’s spit and leaving a mess on black silky sheets. 

Your tits hurt, pleasure bordering on mindnumbing pain under Suguru’s fingers, and you turn your head, trying to get away from his sharp teeth, trying to distract him with a kiss, and fuck, you want a kiss, want to taste him and memorize the feeling of his tongue against your own in the same way Satoru’s kisses are now ingrained somewhere deep in your soul. 

Suguru laughs straight in your face though, your cheeks burning, a moan spilling over your lips when Satoru starts sucking on your clit, just to lick over it like it’s his favorite lollipop, back to sucking again and almost making you squeal. 

“Kiss me, please,” you gasp out, back arching. 

“Why should I?” Suguru asks, one eyebrow raised when he’s catching your gaze, the corners of his lips twitching. “You didn’t do anything to deserve that, yet.” 

You whine, holy shit you’ll never live this down, another sound coming out of your mouth, one so fucking embarrassing it sends heat into your cheeks, all of it followed by a half-sob getting ripped from your lungs when Satoru slides two of his fingers inside you with ease, when he starts a loose rhythm of fucking you, lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking, and he’s hitting deep, adds a third finger to stretch you, squelching sounds filling up the air. 

“You’re already losing it, huh?” Suguru gives you a reprieve, or well, what he thinks is a reprieve, his fingers sliding up and down over your nipples, paced fast and in time with the thrusts of Satoru’s fingers pumping in and out of you. “Sweetie, we haven’t even really started and I can see you gettin’ dumber by the second.” 

And that gets to you, his words making you turn your head to the side again, your teeth sharp on Suguru’s jaw, the sudden action of biting down catching him by surprise. He grabs your face harshly, fingers pushing into your cheeks while he holds you still. Something dark creeps into the brown of his eyes, the sight of it sending shivers down your spine, toes curling.

“You’ll regret that, baby,” there’s a mocking tone to his voice, and for a few seconds fear flickers up inside you, but it’s quickly getting replaced by sheer excitement. He’s hooking his legs over your thighs, feet sliding under your calves so he can spread you even wider and you have no chance of closing your legs until he allows you to close them. 

Meanwhile, Satoru’s kind of ignorant to it all, eyes still shut, tongue lapping all over your pussy. 

“Tch, already pussy-drunk,” Suguru sighs, a hand leaving your body to slide into Satoru’s messy hair, grabbing it, pulling his head off of you and making Satoru whimper in the process. There’s slick all over his face, the curve of his mouth and cheeks, his chin, glistening with your juices, lips still swollen and strawberry pink. 

Suguru waits until Satoru’s eyes flutter open, ocean blue eyes foggy. 

“Make her come,” Suguru tells him and Satoru blinks, tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy and it’s sweet, and cute and makes you want to pepper his face with thousands’ of kisses. There’s a question in his eyes, and you know that you’re both asking yourselves the same thing – why is Suguru suddenly nice and wants you to come? What’s his plan? 

1, 2, 3 seconds and Satoru shrugs to himself, leans down again and licks sloppily all over your folds, licks inside of you, groaning at the taste of your slick coating his tongue. His eyes close again, the ocean setting you free and you desperately try getting to the surface, gasping for some much needed air. It’s a losing battle. Satoru’s too focused on making you lose your mind, his fingers joining his tongue in pushing in and out, in and out of your pussy, tongue lapping at your swollen folds, going higher and higher until he reaches his goal. 

Suguru’s arms are like a vice around you, holding you down and open when Satoru sucks on your clit again, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, his fingers hitting deep and at the perfect angle. You squirm in Suguru’s hold, not really knowing if it’s to push your hips up to get your clit even deeper in Satoru’s mouth, or if it’s to get away from the overwhelming touch, from the tingles and sparks racing over your skin, from the greedy flames setting your blood on fire, white static filling your ears. 

There’s a pressure building between your legs, everything too much and not enough, and Satoru curls his fingers inside you just so, times it perfectly with a harsh suck and a flick of his tongue. You shatter into a thousand pieces, Suguru’s arms the only thing holding, anchoring you to earth, on this plane of existence, your hips bucking wildly. If it weren’t for Suguru’s legs hooked around yours, you’re sure you’d have crushed Satoru’s head with your thighs, your own head pushing back against Suguru’s shoulder when your back arches in a way you’ll definitely feel tomorrow. 

Satoru caresses your pussy with sweet kitten licks, a rosy blush on his cheeks, his face a mess. Both your eyes go wide when Suguru pushes Satoru’s face to the side, when thick fingers come down on your pussy, drawing circles around your oversensitive clit, the nub already swollen, cherry-red, and you squeal, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. 

Suguru’s merciless, is still holding you against him with one arm, while Satoru just stares, his fingers still shoved deeply in your pussy, walls clenching around them, again and again and again. 

“Told ya, you’d regret it,” Suguru hums casually, as if he’s talking about the fucking weather with a stranger, and then he’s snapping his forefinger against your clit, pleasure melting into sharp pain, a cry spilling over your lips, tears now freely sliding down your cheeks. 

The pressure’s back in an instant, this time even more intense. There are no waves for you to ride on, only water pushing you down, down, down and Satoru moves his fingers again, thrusts them slowly at first, his cheek resting against your thigh, his gaze not leaving your face once. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so pretty like this,” he says, eyes shining, voice tinged with something you refuse to name, something you don’t want to name because you’re afraid of the meaning behind it. Suguru chuckles, nose pressed against your ear while he’s looking over your shoulder, fingers still abusing your clit. 

“She is, isn’t she?” The ghost of a kiss brushes over your heated skin, the slightest flick of his tongue to taste the salt of your sweat sliding down your neck. “Bet you five bucks I can make her look even prettier.” 

“Deal,” Satoru answers immediately and they’re fucking idiots, and fuck, you haven’t the slightest clue how to survive this. Satoru thrusts his fingers faster, adds a fourth finger because you’re so fucking wet, a waterfall of slick and stickiness, Suguru’s teeth nibbling on your skin while he goes from drawing circles around your clit to harshly rubbing back and forth. 

There’s no air left in your lungs, no thoughts racing through your mind. You’re reduced to a crying mess, to the most basic of instincts, greed and need, fight or flight trying to get the upper hand in the movements of your limbs, want sitting heavy in every cell of your body. 

“She’s so fucking wet,” Satoru hums, lips pressing a kiss against the skin on your inner thigh. “So good, sweetheart, takin’ everything so well, am proud of you.” 

Satoru babbles on, praises you again and again, but you can’t hear him over the static rush in your ears, over the squelching sounds of your soaked pussy, over the rumbling growl vibrating in Suguru’s chest. 

You have no idea if it’s one of their ‘we’re two parts of a whole’ thing again or if they communicated in any way this time but – 

Satoru slips his fifth finger inside you, his hand pushing in and in and in, and Suguru lifts his hand, lifts his fingers away from your clit and letting you hope for mercy, for a much needed break, but your hopes and dreams get ignored, get swiped away to the side carelessly, when he slaps your pussy, when his fingers hit your clit hard. 

Something inside you snaps in two. You don’t know what exactly happens, but the pressure in your pussy intensifies until you feel like tearing apart at the seams, and Satoru’s curling his fingers into a fist, pushes it in and out of you, stretches you to the absolute limit and your eyes squeeze shut, snot and tears mixing up, drool clinging to the corners of your mouth. 

Suguru slaps you again, and you burst into a thousand pieces for the second time that night.

You’re a supernova in the endless darkness of the universe, your pussy pulsing and pulsing, slick and sticky juices gushing right out of you and you’re twitching in Suguru’s hold, limbs moving uncontrollably, a scream ripped out of your chest, the broken sound going silent when Suguru doesn’t stop abusing your swollen clit, the small nub chafed raw and much too sensitive. 

When the whirlpool of pleasure slows down to rippling waves, your back sinking against Suguru’s chest you can hear Satoru moaning in between your legs, his warm tongue sticking out and lapping at you, Suguru humming into your neck, the stubble on his cheeks scratching against your skin in a grounding way. 

You open your eyes, your body limp, exhaustion carved into your bones, a deep seated satisfaction spreading in your chest. When you look down at Satoru you freeze, eyes going wide – there’s your slick dripping down his face, the front of his sweater absolutely soaked, expensive cotton absolutely ruined. 

He meets your gaze from between your legs, ocean blue holding you hostage, the dimples on his cheeks, his smile chaining you to the bed, to him, his body and soul. 

“Seems like I owe you five bucks,” he grins, Suguru laughing behind you, rattling your frame while he’s slowly stroking his fingers back and forth over your stomach. His nose brushes up your neck, lips pressing a gentle kiss right under your ear. 

“Turn around, sweetie,” he murmurs, loosening his hold. He’s patient, waits until you gain some control back over your limbs, and you shuffle around, sit down between his legs again, legs wrapped around his waist, Satoru holding you upright from behind. 

Suguru’s gaze is still dark, shadows dancing in the brown of his eyes. A few strands of hair slipped out of his messy bun, framing his face, clinging to flushed skin. It’s good to see that he’s affected too, that he isn’t as non-chalant about all of this as his words make it seem. 

There’s the rustling sound of clothes getting taken off behind you, a few seconds passing until Satoru’s chest is pressed against your back, skin on skin, his body heat seeping into you, his arms wrapping around you tightly, hugging you, holding you. 

The three of you never shied away from physical contact – there was always a hand holding another, legs intertwined under blankets, fingers carding through hair and nails scratching over a scalp. But nothing compares to this, to how close you are now, chest to chest and back to chest, all of your limbs tangled in a knot so tight you have no idea where one of you begins and the other ends. 

It almost makes you tear up, your nerves already frayed raw from two earth-shattering orgasms, heart cracked open for Suguru and Satoru to see, to take what they want and hopefully handle it with care. 

The brown of Suguru’s eyes gets lighter while he holds your gaze, the expression on his face melting into something much softer. One of his hands cups your cheek, thumb swiping away remnants of tears. Satoru has his chin hooked over your shoulder, hums in pleasure and half-moans when Suguru pushes the thumb damp with your tears in his mouth, letting him suck off the taste of salt. 

Your breath hitches and Suguru smiles, fondness clinging to his lips. 

You have no idea who moves first, but you’re meeting each other in the middle, the first kiss shared between you igniting flames in your blood again. Where Satoru’s wild and overwhelming, Suguru is anything but. He takes, takes all of you in a way that demands of you to give him everything you have, everything you own, to obey, to let him control you completely. 

Every flick of his tongue against your own, every hum, every teasing graze of teeth is something calculated, intent underlining his actions, playing you like a fiddle, as if you’re nothing more than a puppet clinging to strings that are connected to his every move. 

It’s maddening, pushes you in the direction of insanity, your body reacting exactly like he wants it to. Satoru’s peppering the skin on your shoulder with kisses, his hold on you loosening, fingers brushing over your thighs, massaging soft flesh. Suguru ends the kiss with a lick over your lips, leaves you breathless and dizzy, hands grabbing you by the waist, pulling you against him even further, the outline of his bulge pushing, grinding against your pussy, making you moan. 

He rolls his hips slowly, and you sigh, your own teeth digging into your bottom lip when he’s meeting Satoru’s mouth with his own over your shoulder. You’re a bit mad about the fact that you can’t watch, but it’s forgotten with another roll of Suguru’s hips, the cotton of his sweats smooth against your hurting pussy, the grey color of it darkening with your slick. 

You decide then and there that he’s wearing too much, grabbing the hem of his shirt, a needy noise spilling over your lips when he isn’t lifting his arms. He leans back, looks at you in amusement, his lips kiss swollen and glistening with Satoru’s spit.

“You want somethin’?” 

“Yes,” you pout, and you’d be embarrassed about your own actions if the urge to touch his skin everywhere wouldn’t be so overwhelming. “Take that off.” 

The grin on his face grows into a smirk that’s sharp at the edges, threatening to cut right into you and leave you open, need flowing, oozing out of you like blood from an open wound. 

“I don’t know sweetie,” he hums. “Why should I give you what you want?” 

The next words leave your mouth faster than you can think about them and you know that you’ll regret them as soon as they’re hanging in the space between you. 

“Because I’d do anything.” 

The laugh bubbling out of Suguru’s mouth is mean, harsh and dangerous, and it has your pussy leaking slick again. Gods, but you’re a lost cause.

“Anything, huh?” He cups your cheeks, places a tender, gentle kiss on your lips. He lingers there, almost making you forget about the threat looming over your head. You follow the warmth of his mouth when he breaks the kiss, watch him when he takes off his shirt and exposes miles of smooth, tanned skin. 

The silver of his nipple piercing glints under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, and Satoru lets out some kind of whine that sounds as needy as you feel. You want to touch Suguru, want to explore and map out every inch of his skin, every curve of his muscles, fingertips tingling. 

Before you can make a single move, Suguru pulls you into a kiss again, his tongue thrusting deep, licking over your own. He’s gone as fast as he came, you’re breathing heavily again, and one of his hands takes your chin, tips it up and into your neck, eyes dark when he keeps you in place. 

“Open up,” he tells you, the command clear, heavy with meaning and leaving no room for objection. You do as told, sticking your tongue out for him because you want to catch him by surprise, or maybe you want him to praise you in the same way Satoru does. 

Of course he doesn’t. He spits on your tongue, lips curling into a mean smirk when you moan and swallow, sticking your tongue out again. 

“Didn’t tell you to swallow yet, did I?” 

You freeze, Satoru’s breath audibly catching in his throat next to your ear, his fingers digging into your thighs almost painfully, nails leaving half-moon creases all over your skin. 

“I’m –” 

“Sorry?” Suguru chuckles, leans back against the headrest, creating a space between you that is crackling with something, with anticipation maybe, the heat of a blazing fire hanging heavy in the air, flames lapping at the borders of your body. “I’m sure you are,” he continues, petting one of your cheeks in a way that feels condescending and turns you on way too much. “The tragic thing for you is though, that I absolutely don’t care if you’re sorry.”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Your pussy pulses, slick dripping on the soiled sheets, and Suguru’s eyes glint, looking right past you and meeting Satoru’s gaze instead. There’s a whole conversation happening silently next to you, and suddenly you’re being moved, the world tilting on its axis. You’re left kneeling in between Suguru’s spread legs, one of his hands at the back of your head, pushing you right against his crotch, the scent of his musk filling your nostrils, making you moan and lick a stripe over grey damp cotton. 

“Tch,” Suguru hums, fingers tightening in your hair, pulling you off him until you look up at him. “And again, you’re an impatient, greedy little thing.” He’s clicking his tongue, shaking his head as if he’s seriously disappointed. You try listening to him, but you can’t focus on him for long – 

Something heavy and warm, something thick and long stretches your pussy and you need a few seconds to realise that Satoru just shoved his dick inside you, that he isn’t stopping once to let you get used to his girth. He pushes in, balls slapping against your skin and he’s immediately starting to thrust, to fuck you in a way that rattles your whole body, teeth clacking together, tears shooting into your eyes because you’re still sensitive as fuck. 

“Ngh –” you moan, mouth opened wide, two of Suguru’s fingers finding a place on your tongue, pushing down, sliding deeper, halfway down your throat and you gag, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

You can’t say if Suguru says something else, if he commands you to do something, your brain melting with every roll of Satoru’s hips, your walls clinging to his dick desperately. Satoru’s hands are sliding over your back, grabbing you by the waist, digging into your hips. 

“Fuck,” he moans, a rasp to his voice, hands travelling up your sides again until he leans over you, his body resting over yours like a weighted blanket, his fingers intertwining with your own. You’re both in Suguru’s space now, his presence, the spice of his perfume everywhere, all consuming, Satoru panting into your ear. 

In front of you, Suguru shoves down his sweats, his hard dick slapping against his abs, leaking at the tip. You want to make some witty comment about the fact that he’s not wearing any underwear but dared mocking you for your missin’ bra, but it’s wiped from your mind when Satoru changes his angle slightly, somehow fucking even deeper. 

Suguru chooses that moment to pry your mouth open and push you down on his dick. He’s giving you no time to adjust, just bullies his way right down your throat and starts sliding you up and down his dick like a human fleshlight with a hand still buried in your hair. 

Eons could have passed for all you know, the world continuing to spin and travel on its orbit without you taking any notice, head empty, kind of floaty in a way that reminds you of smokin’ too much weed and every thought entering your mind feeling like cotton candy clouds. 

There’s the telltale tingle of an approaching orgasm spreading in your body again, spit drooling out your mouth around Suguru’s dick, slick dripping out your pussy and coating Satoru’s where he’s fucking in and out of you. The wave of pleasure crashes down on you without further notice, your pussy spasming, trying to milk Satoru dry who moans loudly at the feeling, your own whimpers kind of muffled, tears running down your cheeks.

Neither man slows down. They simply continue to fuck you, to use you to their heart’s content and it’s doing things to your own heart, would have done things to your pussy too if you’d still be able to feel anyting else than a tickling tingle in your puffy folds. They shift again, without words but in sync anyway, Satoru pulling you further down the bed, Suguru lying down, shoving his legs under you until you’re straddling him. 

You immediately miss the weight of his dick on your tongue, whiny sounds spilling over your lips while you continue to cry. 

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” Satoru whispers in your ear, against your skin, the touch of his hands fleeting and sweet. “Takin’ us so well, your pussy feels like heaven, baby, fuck –”

He’s pushing inside you again, the slide as smooth as the words continuing to drip from his mouth like sugary syrup. 

“Can’t believe you’re lettin’ us do what we want,” Suguru joins in, his words bitter like ginger, cloying on your tongue, prickling over your skin. 

“It’s –” you moan, forehead resting against Suguru’s chest, tongue flicking against the cool silver of his piercing. He twitches at that and you do it again, kind of fascinated when goosebumps erupt on his skin. “Let you do it because it’s you two –” Satoru’s dick punches another moan out of you and slick drools out of your pussy, makes a mess between your thighs and everything’s just so fucking wet. 

“Is that so?” Suguru hums, a little amused, a hand slipping in between your bodies, rough fingers finding your clit, a deep groan filling the air when he finds you dripping, when his fingers slip all over your mound and in between your folds. “Gods, you’re gushing,” he says.

“Feels good,” you gasp, and Satoru presses a kiss on your sweaty neck, the rhythm of his snapping hips steady, even. You aren’t ready for Suguru to focus on your clit again, but he’s back to playing, drawing smooth circles until you beg him to stop. 

He doesn’t. 

“Please,” you cry. “Can’t – I can’t come again, it hurts.” 

“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” Satoru tells you, his own breathing ragged. “You’re doing perfectly, just a little more, just –” Satoru moans deeply when Suguru’s fingers slip down and bump against his dick. You sob when Suguru slides his fingers inside you, right next to Satoru’s dick, stretching you further than you thought yourself capable of. 

“No, please,” you sob and Suguru tips your head up with his free hand, catches your gaze that’s blurry from tears. “Say kfc if you really want us to stop.” 

Behind you Satoru snorts and you can’t help but laugh around a sob, Suguru’s own lips twitching with amusement. They both wait for you to say something, Satoru slowing down his thrusts and giving you time to listen to your own body. 

Your pussy beats in harmony with the fast pacing of your heart, your clit feeling numb but there’s no longer sharp pain zipping against every small nerve. You take a deep breath, forcefully relaxing your body and meeting Suguru’s gaze again. Your mouth stays shut and Suguru grins widely, a little manic and with too many teeth. It’s an expression usually belonging to Satoru but it suits him just as well, your pussy clenching almost painfully around Satoru’s dick and Suguru’s fingers. 

They push you further up Suguru’s body and he pulls you into a deep kiss. You detect it as a method of distraction one small moment too late. Suguru’s dick slips into your pussy alongside Satoru’s, both men moaning at the more than tight fit. Suguru rolls his hips as much as he’s able to with you lying on top of him, sliding deeper and you’re back to crying, your body not knowing what it’s supposed to feel anymore. 

You’re limp on Suguru’s chest, your hips held up by Satoru’s hands while your legs tremble. This time they actually give you some time to adjust, and even if you’re thankful for it, it’s not doing anything, isn’t helping in the slightest. You’re stretched too wide, pain blending into pleasure and back into pain, an endless loop of too much, too much, too much, and you squeal when they start moving, when Suguru grinds deeper and Satoru slides halfway out. They pick up a sloppy rhythm, both of them apparently (finally) reaching their own limits. Suguru’s kissing you again, licks over your cheek, gathering your tears on his tongue. 

Satoru’s back to leaning over you, leaves marks all over your shoulder and neck, meets Suguru in his own kiss, hips pumping faster. The moment they both dig their teeth into your overwhelmed skin is the moment everything ends. 

You come again, black nothingness creeping into your mind while you’re pussy tries to clench around the dicks fucking in and out of you. They both moan at the feeling of your walls clinging to them, and warmth spreads inside you, leaks out of you and drips down your thighs. 

You know that time continues to pass but you can’t grasp it, eyes unseeing while your mind floats next to your body. You only come back to yourself when someone carefully cleans you up between the legs, the cotton of the washcloth soft and warm, every caress tender, gentle. 

Another set of hands is buried in your hair, carding through damp strands. You hum, the rumble of it almost sounding like a purr. Someone puts you down on the mattress, arms still wrapped around you, a thick blanket being pulled over your sweaty body. You’re surrounded by heat and familiar smells, the spice of Suguru’s cologne prickling in your nose, the feeling soothed by the scent of coconut from Satoru’s favorite shampoo. 

A deep sigh and you let yourself sink deeper into their embrace, into the care they give you without you having to ask for it.