Ray

“No, no, into the camera, I don’t want the poor fuck to miss your face when you come. Fucker’s probably never seen it. Not for real anyway.” Soap squeezes at the back of your neck, just firm enough to get you to lift your face out of your pillows. Enough to get you to stare into your phone’s camera. Your eyes make a fevered, strained connection with the tiny lens and a thrill runs through you, up your spine and out of your mouth in the form of Soap’s name. 

“Yes.” He hisses digging his fingertips into the flesh at your hips, tugging you back onto his length. 

Were you your ex, in about an hour or so, you’d get a video attachment with the sparkling heart emoji you loved to use in place of a caption. Were you your ex, you’d open the video, rolling your eyes and anticipating six minutes of you crying and whimpering apologies. Instead, you’d get an eyeful of your glassy expression, your clammy face, your open mouth, mumbling incoherently while Soap’s hips smacked hard against your back side.

You’d have seen the opening moments of the video you're currently shooting where Soap had zoomed in on the puffy lips of your cunt, documenting the way his dick slid over your labia over and over until you moaned deep in your throat off screen. You would’ve heard your own empty headed pleading with Johnny to “stop teasing already” before he sunk into you proper, pushing into your pussy, letting the camera catch him stretching you open, making you take every inch while you drooled obscenities. 

Thankfully though, you aren’t your ex, so you get to experience every second of Soap painstakingly taking you apart live and in-fucking-colour. 

It hadn’t been intentional. Soap is your friend, your best friend. Either of you would proudly take a bullet for the other. You’ve spent years in each other’s company, raiding each other’s fridges, crying on each other’s shoulders, laughing at one another’s dumbass jokes. You fit together like puzzle pieces. 

Totally. Platonic. Puzzle Pieces.

What makes the whole “having sex with your best friend and recording it” thing worse (or better, if you asked Johnny), is that your ex had always doubted the innocence of yours and MacTavish’s relationship, always muttering bitterly in the presence of your friendship. He’d argued over and over that Soap was “into you” and you just “didn’t want to see it”. And maybe you hadn’t. Maybe it made things easier to not address the casual intimacy of your actions, the long hugs, the near mouth kisses, the cuddling. You didn’t even want to consider the much too frequent occasions where you’d catch him staring at your mouth, or when you’d catch yourself leering at his arms, or the sex dreams. The goddamn sex dreams. Night after accursed night of Dream You and Dream Soap going at it like animals. Fucking like it’s what you were born to do.

Fucking the way you are right now.

He clasps a hand around your nape again, squeezing before he runs his palm down your sweat slick back. Soap presses deft fingers against your sides, gripping hard and punching forward again, rocking your entire body towards the camera. He’s going painfully slow, and the heavy glide of his cock inside you is mind-numbing. There’s no way the face you’re making to the camera lens is attractive, but later, when you're cuddled against him in your bed, rewatching the video, Soap will insist it’s perfect. 

Right now though, who gives a fuck what you look like, when you can feel Johnny rearranging your insides with his dick. 

He groans, spreading your ass to get a better look at his cock disappearing into you. “Fuck me.” He draws it out, voice drunk and deep with pleasure. You look over your shoulder at him, whispering something so low it doesn’t get picked up on camera.

And Soap couldn’t have that, could he?

“Tell him.” Your hips stutter, slowing the rhythm the two of you have built, your mind is already clouded with lust, thoughts obscured by the sensation of Johnny fucking you like he hates you.

Or loves you.

You really could not give less of shit about the difference tonight,

“Tell him, sweet.” He jerks his chin at your phone, propped up against a pillow and recording every second of your debasement in the highest definition the three year old device can manage.

Shivers wrack your body but you concede, facing the camera. “I asked him to spit on me.”

“Where did you ask for it? Don’t be shy.” He goads, picking up your slack, jolting you back and forth with deep thrusts, bottoming out then withdrawing until only the flushed scarlet tip of his cock is inside you, only for him to fuck back into you, grinding against your abused walls.

“My ass.” You moan, teeth bared as you try to breathe through your impending orgasm. “I asked him to spit on my ass.” You pant the answer, ”Cause you never wanted to.”

Soap’s laugh is boisterous, vindictive and loud, and he obliges you, finally, spitting at the furl of your asshole. The sensation makes you shiver, and you clench down on him, nearly wailing when your best friend’s thumb begins rubbing insistently at the rim of your hole, spreading his spit with purpose.

“Think I can get my thumb in there?” He huffs, and bends over, his chest blanketing your back so his face is in the camera too. Soap drags the very tip of her tongue over the shell of your ear, biting down softly on your earlobe, sucking at the skin beneath it before he addresses the lens this time, “Whaddya say, Leo? Think I can get my thumb in ‘er?” He rubs his forehead against the nape of your neck before levering back up, out of frame. “I think I can.” He murmurs happily, pressing the pad of the digit against your hole, quietly urging you to push against him, to breathe easy, until you part around the finger. Your whole body just melts as you get used to it, being full. Johnny begins moving again, stroking you deep then grinding inside you, rubbing his hands over your sides, squeezing, groping, touching like he can’t believe you’re here. Like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.

He wiggles his thumb, pulling it to the side so he can stare at how he’s filled you completely. You can practically hear him ruminating on how he was going to convince you to let him fuck you there, stretch your ass open and spill his seed where no one had before. Lay an irrefutable claim.

Or maybe that was just you.

Honestly, it really didn’t matter because the pace at which Soap is pistoning into you, making your cunt weep, made every little thought that managed to grow in your mind die almost instantaneously.

"Mm...Johnny, I'm close" you grab at the hand he has anchored to your waist. The hair on his thighs rubs against you, the friction and the feel of his balls slapping against your clit speeding you towards an orgasm for the fucking record books. And contrary to Soap's posturing, you didn't fake orgasms, who the fuck had time for that? However, the ones Leo occasionally gave you were nothing like what you felt coming. You struggled not to bite your tongue clean off as ecstasy shot through you, your breath stalling in your lungs. You flee forward when Soap presses his thumb into your ass as far as it could go, pulling his unoccupied hand out of yours so he could rub tight circles over the hood of your clit. It's too much, gratification and sensation and reckless fucking pleasure.

Look at you, running from dick. Who'da thunk it?

"Oh that's not happening." Johnny rasps, breaking his own rhythm once, then twice, abandoning your clit to pull you back onto him. "Take it. Let him see how you take it." Another, smaller, climax tears through your last bit of restraint, all caught on digital film, and you drop your head and scream, muffled by pillows while Soap gives in and comes inside you, throwing his head back, groaning at your ceiling, or God, maybe.

Either's as likely.

When he pulls out, there's a fleeting moment of silence interrupted only by the sound of synchronized heavy breathing. 

Soap bends forward again, this time grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up and against his chest, knocking your legs apart with his hand so the camera can focus on his cum leaking out of you, dripping thick and slow for the benefit of your future audience. He turns your face by your chin, pressing his mouth to yours, further flooding your senses. When his tongue traces over yours, you can literally feel you and Johnny pass the point of no return. 

“Turn it off.” Soap nods to the phone again, and you have to shake your head twice and kiss him three times before you feel cognizant enough to understand what he’s asking. You can’t stop yourself from smiling facetiously into the tiny lens before you end the recording. 

“Give it here.” 

You pass him the phone, staring at the lock screen, a half decade old photo of you and Soap in a matching halloween costume, Johnny dressed like an angel and you his complicit devil, your arms wrapped around each other. 

Leo had hated it.

“Aaaaand send.” Soap sing-songs, tapping at the screen of your phone a few times before he chucks the device to the floor, ignoring your indignant yelp of protest. “How long do you think we have before he opens it?” 

“Long enough for you to eat me out?” You flop back on your bed, propped up on your bent elbows. 

“Then we’d best get started.”

Soap barely gets the chance to touch his tongue to your clit when your phone starts to buzz furiously.

god i hope this anon sees this, i started working on it the day they requested it but totally forgot it was FOR someone and got stuck in my perfectionist k-hole.

support city girls with spit kinks, reblog what you like.

He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.

“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—

“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.

“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.

And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.

He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.

He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.

Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.

“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.

“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.

It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.

“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.

“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.

“Let me show you instead.”

On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.

Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.

His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.

“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.

“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.

“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.

“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.

“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.

“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.

You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.

Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.

“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.

“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”

The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.

“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.

“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.

“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”

“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.

“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.

“I know what I am asking for.”

“I could hurt you,”

“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.

“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.

You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.

“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.

“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.

He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.

“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.

Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.

“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.

“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”

You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.

“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”

“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.

You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.

“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.

And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.

“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”

You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.

“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”

“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.

All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.

“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.

“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”

it's 5.40 pm. where is he? he was supposed to meet you after class, yet he's nowhere to be found. and you're there standing in shame, as students pass you by, probably wondering what happened for you to be waiting like a stray kitten by his office.

of course, it's nothing to be ashamed of. god, you don't even know what you're supposed to be ashamed of yet! but here you are, cold sweat down your neck, hands nervously moving up and down your arms as you wait for time to pass.

that's how you are. quiet, nervous. yet most people have a different image of you; a colder, meaner image. it's difficult for you to socialize, so you stick to your two friends you made ages ago for your in-class interactions. for classes, you opt for quietly listening to your lectures rather than being interactive, even though you know it's not the right way, and you want to be social. that's why most professors rarely remember your name or your face- not that they're eager to know you anyways. that's why it's so confusing. what did you do to get called like this? how did he even know your name?

"ah- sorry for being late" gojo rushes next to you. his tall figure guides you to the narrow hallway where his office is hidden in. he quickly unlocks the door, and waits for you to enter first. "sit, i'll be back in a couple minutes" you nod.

once he turns around, you quickly observe his clothes. he always knew how to be stylish, even though his clothes are always basic. you figured it must be his fit figure that makes anything he wears compliment him. he's always clean and rich looking; never would he wear a wrinkled shirt. the female students would anticipate warm weathers, where gojo would sometimes wear a tight, black t-shirt and jeans. not today tho. although the weather is warm, he's wearing a light blue linen shirt with black jeans, complimented with a thick, leather belt. his shirt exposed his contoured collarbones, and arms exposed with an expensive looking watch to complete the look. and his face... god, his face.

he shuts the door behind you. you're left for your own thoughts. sitting down is uncomfortable for you, the only thing you can hear is your heartbeat. the building is empty, you can faintly hear students speaking from outside. you get up, and look around his office. it's filled with thick, leather covered books. interesting, you wouldn't assume he's into reading by looking at him, or hearing him speak. it must be professional deformation. papers are scattered around on his desk. everywhere else except for his desk is tidied and clean, but his desk is a warzone.

the door opens.

"hi, hello, sorry for making you wait. hope you didn't miss me too much" gojo paces toward his desk.

you shake your head. "it's alright, you must be very busy"

gojo stands over his desk and gathers some papers in his hand and puts them aside. "well, it is difficult to be the fun one in this department, y'know?" his blue eyes focus on yours for a moment, as he waits for a reaction from you. you chuckle in response.

gojo pulls out a paper from the batch and sits down. he raises the paper and looks at you. he calls your name. "correct?"

just the way he said your name sends chills down your spine. god, in that moment, you truly wish you would be more active in class, only to hear him call your name.

"correct"

he reads the paper quickly without putting it down. he looks like a kid doing it, yet you feel as if you were in front of a judge.

"so, interesting. you know your grade, right?" you nod.

"i-is there a problem? i thought i did good"

"oh, you did, definitely. this paper is very impressive. i enjoyed reading it." he smiles at you. "the only problem was, i had no idea whose paper i was reading the whole time"

you sit there silently. where was he heading at? he didn't call you in just to tell you to be more active in class, right?

"i mean i did know, i know how to read, but there wasn't a face you know? our class is pretty small, so i know most people. but you, who are you?"

"excuse me?" you manage to let out.

"you don't speak much in class, don't talk to anyone else in class, yet you never skip a class. and then boom! you write out this paper"

"am- am i being accused of something, sir?"

gojo looks amused. he grins, and rests on his back, crossing his arms. his muscles show up, is he trying to look intimidated? is he trying to get a confession out of you? cheating? stealing?

"no, nothing at all. i'm just curious. it's important that i know my pupils. talking to strangers affect my performance too"

"i- guess i'm more of a listener" you feel so small in front of him. this is embarrassing.

gojo gets up and walks to the chair across you.

"but you see, you don't look friendly either."

"wha-"

"i remember seeing you in class and thinking 'wow, she really doesn't wanna be here' which is new to me, cause i'm fun!" now you're sure he must be offended or something.

"sir, if that's the issue, i'll be more active from now on" you just want to leave. whatever it takes, leave.

"but why?" he ignores your suggestion. "why hate being with me?" gojo leans in to be closer to you. his long legs and big body help him be closer to you, despite the small coffee table separating you two.

"there's not a reason, sir. i don't hate-"

"i'm used to being popular among female students, y'know?"

this time, it's your turn to giggle.

"i'm sorry, is this what it's been about? you're offended that i'm not attracted to you?" lie. you're crazy for him. maybe that's why you're extra shy around him. but somehow, a wave of confidence washes over you in this moment. maybe it's the sincerity of him, maybe it's the ridiculousness of the situation. but whatever it is, it made you get a fiendish chuckle from your professor.

"it just doesn't happen. do you hate me? did i do something to you?"

"no, sir, i'm just a shy person"

"why the face?" he points at his own face, and makes a sulky face that you think is supposed to be mimicking your face.

you shrug your shoulders and smile in disbelief. "it's just my face! sir, if it matters to you, i think you're great. i enjoy your lectures, and i promise i'll be more active from now on" you wave your hands and get up to leave. gojo follows after you.

he lays a hand on your shoulder to keep you still.

"that's not it, is it? you missed something"

"e-excuse me?" what the fuck is wrong with this guy?

"tell me i'm handsome" gojo looks into your eyes. his piercing gaze makes you freeze in place. his face is too close to yours, you feel even more embarrassed to know he can see you blushing.

"t-that's not very appro-"

"oh come on! i know you want to say it" he smiles.

hypocrite.

you are a hypocrite. if this was any other person, you would have been scared shitless. yet here you are; heart beating fast, empty minded, an uncomfortable wetness growing stronger.

the sexual tension is so strong. you feel nervous, whatever you say will break the tension or make it reach its breaking point. and you don't know which one you prefer.

you stay silent.

gojo looks into your big eyes, face so close that you wonder if he'll kiss you anytime soon.

"if you're not gonna admit, i'll help you with it" he steps back. "sit on the desk" he orders, voice dark and strong. you stand in disbelief. gojo walks over to his desk while slowly taking off his watch. "you comin' or not?"

you walk over to his desk and sit obediently. your legs are closed, your nervousness can be read from your posture.

"don't be shy, you're in good hands" gojo suddenly kneels and places his palms on your knees. he looks up at you with puppy eyes. "may i?"

you bite the inside of your cheeks and nod. you unbutton your pants and rest your palms next to you. satoru grabs the hem of your baggy jeans. you lift yourself as satoru easily takes your jeans off. your baby pink, cotton panties are exposed in a comical way. satoru laughs at the contrast; your heavy and dark makeup, resting bitch face, and all black clothes hide pretty pink underwear under it. and satoru feels like one hell of a lucky man to be able to witness this.

satoru slides his hand in between your legs and lightly separates them, exposing your sopping panties. satoru's delighted to see you as excited as him. after all, you seemed scared at first.

his soft, juicy lips lay soft kisses all across your plump skin as he makes his way up to your panties. his demeanor suddenly changes, and he rips your panties beastly. one hand lowers your body further to reveal your folds better. satoru doesn't wait another second.

gojo licks your folds, all the way from your hole to cilit. his tongue masterfully dances around the delicate skin, and runs around your clit. your shy moans fill the office room. you cherish the view below you. his broad shoulders are about to rip through his expensive shirt, white hair buried between your legs, long fingers gripping your legs firmly. he plants a firm kiss on top of your clit that makes you shiver. he sucks on the delicate skin and leaves it with a tiny plop sound. he continues untill you're a moaning mess. and god, you hate to admit this, but she was right. he knows how to fuck good.

"gosh, do you do this to all of your students?" the sudden adrenaline rush takes over you, but the embarrassment follows quickly after. for a second, you're scared he'll get mad and stop, but he doesn't.

"i don't. but don't think you'll be my favorite student after this or something" he looks at you with half lidded eyes.

his warm tongue fucks your wet hole until you feel weak in your knees. you wonder how good his cock feels if he can entertain you this much with his tongue. his tongue pushes inside your hole, letting your sweet juices roll down to his throat. he's so amused at how much you're enjoying yourself, it makes his excitement only grow harder. in a few seconds, he'll fuck you till you can't walk out his office.

"s-sir!" you squirm with his touch.

"yes?" he looks up in a mischievious manner and makes gesture at you, as if you were raising a hand to speak. you roll your head back and laugh before grabbing his hair and pushing him back in.

satoru lays a flat tongue on your clit. the pressure is enough to make your legs twitch. he holds himself there for a moment, waiting for your to beg for more. and you do, you really do.

satoru runs his tongue up and down on your clit, making the pointy tip of his tongue push the skin further as he runs his tongue back up with each lap. the pointy tip draws circles around your clit, around and around. god, he feels so good. he might even cum if he continues more. it's the first time he's ever felt so good giving head to someone. your helpless little squeaks, your shy face and confident hand buried in his hair...

knock knock

you quickly turn around to face the door

"professor gojo? i brought the books" a male voice calls. "can i come in?"

gojo gets up with a sinical smirk on his face, and gently pushes you by your back down.

"give me a second!" he shouts at the door as he takes off his belt and lays it under the desk. he sits down on his chair and calls you down with his two fingers. you instantly obey, kneeling down to his knee level. gojo pushes his chair further under the desk so that you can't be seen. you quickly unbutton his jeans before gojo calls the man inside.

you grab the hem of his underwear and push it down to expose his hard cock. it's dark, your view is limited, but you make the best of it. you hear footsteps get closer, so you hold your breath. you hesitate, you're terrified of getting caught.

"so, about tomorrow's meeting..." a faint voice fills your surroundings. your heart beats fast, and your hands shakily grab his tip.

gojo's surprised at this hesitation. maybe you really do need some help after all. he pretends to listen to what the man is yammering away about. he sneaks his hand down to table and cautiously pushes your head to mouth his length. the sudden push startles you, but it gives you the push you needed.

once gojo's palm leaves your head, you start slowly taking in his dick. you hear him exhale casually, before he responds to the man. he's big, so it takes you a while to fully take him inside. you pull your head back, and lick along his cock.

"...so i figured we would go with another plan..." gojo continues. once you swirl your tongue around his tip, licking the thick precum, finally getting a taste of him. you hear his voice shake for a second. satoru pretends to cough. he must be sensitive on his tip, you figure, and focus on teasing his tip.

you start rubbing his length where your mouth can't reach. every time you release his cock, you quickly swirly your tongue on his tip so that he shakes slightly, making him shift in his chair to not expose your affair to the clueless man. you repeat: suck, pump, release, twirl. suck, pump, release, twi-

satoru spasms on his chair once again as your tongue touches his tip. you think he's cumming for a moment, but those thoughts disappear once you feel a strong hand grab you by your hair, pulling you away from his cock.

"see you tomorrow, satoru" the man says before he leaves the room. with the door closing, satoru pulls back. in a moment, you find yourself picked up like a cat and sat on the table.

"you think you're funny?" gojo growls. "teasing me like that? in front of my colleague?" his eyebrows are furrowed and jaw is clenched. he looks terrifying.

"i-i thought you wanted me to-"

"getting spoiled, hm? do you need to be disciplined?" it's almost as if gojo was searching for a reason to be mad at you, to fuck you like you mean nothing to him.

before you could respond, gojo discards your crop top and leaves you bare chested and cold. satoru can't decide whether the twitching of his dick is caused by the shock of you not wearing a bra to meet your professor or how arousing your perky, plump tits look in front of him. whatever it is, it's enough to make his beasty look go darker.

gojo hisses with what feels like frustration. he wants you, he wants you now, and he cannot waste another second. in a moment, you're pressed down onto the desk, on your chest with two strong hands pulling your ass up high. the wooden desk is warm, yet the hotness of your body combined with the cooler desk makes your body shiver. it doesn't help that gojo's teasing your entrance with his tip either. you whine under his touch, signaling him to go further in. he's amused at your neediness. you want to use your words, but you end up only being able to whine and groan. it's cute, adorable. satoru wonders how you'd be once he's done with you.

"what should i do?" gojo teases. he places his tip in your entrance, only for your hole to stretch enough to take the head in. the feeling is overwhelming even now, and you know it will hurt once he fully inserts himself.

well, they don't say curiosity kills the cat for no reason.

"p-please, f-fuck..." you whisper, tears pooling in your eyes slowly as frustration and tension grow bigger.

"hm? what was that?" gojo leans in closer to your face, making his cock enter a little more. you whimper with the new feeling. it's more painful, yet somehow very intimate.

"p-please..." you quietly respond again.

"we talked this through. speak up, don't be shy!"

you squeeze the papers scattered on the table, trying to from words, but your mind is blank.

"embarrassed? if it helps, princess, no one can hear you" gojo whispers. the irony. gojo satoru, the nonchalant extrovert that warns you in a craven tone; and you, the shy, anxious little girl, soon screaming your lungs out, begging him to fuck you.

"god, just fuck me!" you scream. it's the start gojo needed, and finally, he can unleash himself into you.

gojo slides his length inside without waiting for you to adjust to him fully. your walls stretch and shrink within a second, as he pulls himself almost completely before entering himself fully once again. your wet hole takes him fully, squeezing every inch of his thick cock. your walm, velvety walls make gojo dizzy with pleasure. his voice switches from manly groans to helpless whimpers. and you, gosh, you're a complete mess. your hair falls over your face, but you're too busy getting railed into oblivion to pick it up. you helplessly grab the edges of the desk in an attempt to gather yourself, but it's no use. the only thing you can do is scream out his name, the only thing you can think of.

"fuck..." gojo hisses into your ear. he grabs a fistful of your hair, finally opening your face. he grabs you closer to his chest and holds you in position by your throat as he uses his other hand to help you catch the rhythm of his thrusts. your back instantly arches, and you need to hold on to his tighs to not fall off. you gasp for breath as he mercilessly pounds into you behind your back. the slapping sounds are too far away from you. your vision gets blurry. it feels good, it shouldn't feel good, but it does. he moves as if he wants to hurt you, to take revenge. he's ruthless, contrary to how softly he kissed your cunt and how sweet he called your name earlier.

"yeah? feels good, hm?" gojo turns your face to his. your wet eyelashes, red cheeks wet with tears, mouth shiny with saliva... what a view he had. and him; his white hair always perfectly in place is now all over his forehead, sweat glistening his long neck, and tight muscles showing under the thin fabric of his shirt. and his eyes... his eyes screaming wildly, violently; yet his gaze is soft and caring. gojo realizes too, as he loosens his grip on your neck, and slows down his tempo. you inhale, cheeks puffed up and head slightly tilted back. gojo takes advantage of the vulnerability of the moment. satoru's soft lips lock with yours in a passionate kiss. he holds your chin in place, and you help him by grabbing his wrist. his tongue dances over yours, and all over your lips. wetness covers your lips. it's messy, you both miss your lips as satoru continues thrusting, but it's more romantic this way. you're both craving each other, something neither of you had realized before this exact moment. your heart beats even faster for a second, as you want to be like this forever. even with his most violent desire, he's so caring and romantic. you know it's all meaningless, that none of these matter, and that your affair will meet its end once he decides he's had enough. so you want to be in this moment forever.

"don't stop" you breathe in his mouth and look into his eyes. satoru's cock twitches inside you, his pace slows down. he slips himself out. did you say something wrong? did he realize what he's doing?

you look at him, confused. satoru's face is impossible to read, he just stands there looking at you. the sudden silence makes you anxious once again. you back up and hit your leg into the desk.

satoru grabs you by your leg as you almost lose your balance. he gently pushes you down by your shoulders and sits you down. he lowers his body before grabbing your knees and making you wrap them around his hips. he unbuttons his shirt but doesn't take it off. his toned abs are finally exposed. you examine every curve on his body, his chest.

satoru locks his lips with yours again. he's softer now. it's like he's known you since forever, like his tongue knows how it's supposed to move inside your mouth. this time, you don't shiver, but a warmness follows down your spine. you cusp his cheek as you deepen the kiss.

there you are, warm light framing your bodies under the sunset, bodies locked. where you end is where satoru begins. your bodies move in harmony. he gently rolls his hips into you, and you lift your hips to meet his. not leaving each others' embrace for a second. what happened so suddenly? is this the beast you were so scared of?

"yes... yes..." you moan into his mouth.

"yeah? you like it, baby?" he asks with a soft voice. you move your head and bury it into his neck. you grab his broad shoulders under his shirt tightly, making sure you're gentle. but you can't help it, you're about to snap. you dig your nails into his skin. he pants and moans into your ear. his voice gets shaky, he sounds so pathetically needy. you realize he needs you as much as you need him.

satoru holds you closer to his chest and embraces you as he fucks through your climax. his steady pace strengthens the tightness down your abdomen. you feel the tingling travel all over your body, as you beg satoru to continue.

"you close, baby? want me to finish inside you, hm?" he asks with a raspy voice. he already knows the answer.

"sa-satoru..." you breathe into his skin.

"look into my eyes" he calls your name. "fuck, look at my eyes"

you tilt your head and meet his glassy, baby blue eyes. he looks so vulnerable in this moment. satoru kisses you once more before he rests his forehead onto yours. his steady pace doesn't change, as you both wait to reach the end.

the knot inside your body tightens and tightens, until it's impossible to stand it. your body spasms under him, and you can only call out his name.

"satoru!" you squirm, not leaving his touch for a second.

"come on baby, cum for me" he pants. "my pretty little girl, you're doing so good"

you let out one last shaky breath and lose control. you shake and spasm, but satoru holds you tightly in place. he rides your climax, as he chases his own. he plants soft kisses all over your face as you lose your mind. your whole body's tingly, mind fuzzy, and numb. you stay there, watching satoru's breath get faster.

you grab both of his cheeks and look into his eyes. you don't look away or move, you hold him in place. his shiny eyes look into yours, amazed at how beautiful you are, how pretty you are for him. and how you're his, in this moment, he's yours.

satoru moves hips further once more before his thrusts stop. his moves come to a full stop. he doesn't avert his gaze, as he slaps his hips into you once more. the warmness washes over you as he empties himself deep inside you. satoru whispers your name, followed by a shaky moan. he stands still for a second, lets his cock rest inside you for a moment as you both stand in silent. he's lost in your embrace, and so are you.

all your anxieties from earlier wash away. he's right, he definitely made sure you like him. and all the papers you ruined, the ones he's supposed to show his students, he will have to think about later.

"you really are very handsome"

gojo's comeback might have taken shorter than mine, but hey, better late than never right? lol anyways, sorry for the long wait and sorry, this isn't the unboxing smut. i suddenly felt the urge to write another jjk teacher/student fic but it's a little more legal now at least. i'm also obsessed with gojo again. hope you enjoyedyour meal! (ok but why do my snopsises lowkey eat harder than the fic itself)

this was... easier than i thought it would. i missed writing so much and haven't felt this much fun and ease writing anything in such a long time! i'm so excited for jjk season 2 and the manga's progress. i think this is another jjk summer yall. also, i'm doing an unofficial internship this summer! so, since i like being active when i'm busy with daily life stuff, who knows, i might become active again

Miguel O'hara who was, well, surprised and caught off guard at the photos. I mean it was out of no where, but those emotions quickly subsided. Of course you had to make him aroused at work, you were practically asking to be punished when he got home.

Miguel O'hara who bends you over the nearest surface that you're closest too, moving your panties aside. You had him pent up all day at work, to see he was going to fuck you dumb was a understatement.

Miguel O'hara who stuffs you full with his dick, walls tightly squeezing around him. His pace was rough already, balls slapping against your lit as you took him all the way. His hand pinning you down, other hand having a tight grip on your hips.

Miguel O'hara who uses you as his personal fleshlight, taking out all that pent up arousal on you. I mean, you knew better then to tease him while he was at work, and yet you did it anyways.

SO maybe, he'd have to dick you down and pound the rule back into you. His cock ramming against your walls, brushing against all your sensitive places. Sometimes his hands would travel down, giving a slap to your clit, watching how your whimpers turned to moans again.

Before Mikey can refute that statement, he gets interrupted by the call of his name. He looks over to see the barista holding his hot chocolate. He turns to Draken expectantly, who drinks his own coffee with a raised brow.

"I'm not gettin' that for you, Mikey, you fucking catch." Draken calls out, rolling his eyes once more.

Mikey glares back at Draken before standing up and walking to the counter. He makes eye contact with the barista, who seems to be around the same age as him. She's really pretty, and is looking about cluelessly, trying to figure out who this 'Mikey' is.

He smiles gently, standing at the counter. "That would be me." He says, taking the cup from her, "Um... I have a little situation."

He's nervous, trying hard just to prove Draken wrong. Because Mikey is fucking great. He's cool and he's attractive. What's not to love?

Maybe the fact he's Toman's leader. Hm.

"Is something wrong with your order, sir?" She asks, tilting her head.

Mikey shakes his head. "Ah, no, no." He chuckles out, looking over his shoulder to Draken. His friend is raising a brow, seeming to be suspicious of the blonde. He reads the barista's name tag. "Actually, Y/N, my friend is trashing me for being single, and I don't believe I'm that bad, really."

Y/N blinks at him. She rubs the side of her neck with an awkward smile. "I'm guessing you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?" She questions, getting a nod of his head. She looks to her coworker, who has been eavesdropping. He just shrugs his shoulders and prepares the next order.

"Go ahead. Tell me what happens later." He laughs back, taking her spot as she rounds the counter, giving her friend a smile.

Mikey sips his hot chocolate and whispers to her, walking slowly to Draken. "Okay, we've been dating for a month, we met the convenience store, I was getting dorayaki." He informs her, making Y/N blink and memorise it all, "I never introduced you because I'm a part of Toman, which is actually true—"

"What?" Y/N murmurs, feeling Mikey slip his hand into hers.

"And you have to pretend not to know me because of that. Call me 'Manjiro', if you want. Maybe." Mikey says, dismissing her adlib, "Got it, beautiful?"

She gulps at that before humming out, "Uh, yeah... h—handsome."

He chuckles at that, squeezing her hand tightly, "Speak like that, beautiful, and I might actually ask you out."

Draken leans back and raises his brows. He clears his throat, "Oh, hello. Who's this friend you brought back with you, Mikey?"

"Y/N." He responds, tilting his head up with pride as Draken squints, "My girlfriend, so be nice, Kenny."

But instead, Draken laughs, tears nearly pouring out of his eyes at the implication, "Oh, shut up! That's just some girl you convinced to play 'family' with you." He looks back to Y/N, who looks down at her shoes, face burning up. "Sorry about his idiocy, miss. You can go back to your job."

Mikey feels his plan go to Hell as he sits down, letting go of Y/N's hand and holding his chin in his palm.

"Um, excuse me...!" Y/N says abruptly, lifting her shoulders at Draken, "But Manjiro is telling the truth. I'm really dating him, albeit only for a few weeks. He just didn't want to tell people to keep me safe."

Draken raises a brow, scanning Y/N as she stands with her hands at her side. He wants to ask on about it, but she then wraps her arms around Mikey's neck, setting herself down beside him.

She huffs, "I'm sorry for not saying 'hello' when you came to the counter, I really wanted to. Which is why I asked Mikey to introduce me now." She sees how Draken switches his gaze from Mikey to her. He looks to be buying it, maybe only a little. She gives a small grin. "But it is really nice to meet you!"

He decides not to say anything, only nodding his head at this situation. "Well, whatever this shit is, it's good to meet you too, Y/N." He says, seeing Y/N loosen her grip on Mikey and just sitting down beside him politely. She has a wide smile on her face. "Name's Draken."

She blinks. "'Draken'?" She mumbles, furrowing her brows, "Shit—We went to the same Middle School! How could I forget that tattoo?"

Mikey feels his hope drop at that. No, no, not someone else who will not pay attention to him.

"What's your last name?" Draken questions.

"L/N." She responds.

"We were in the same class!" Draken laughs out, leaning forward with a surprised look, "Shit, I can't believe that... Mikey, your girl and I were friends until we split in high school. I got a lot of stories for you, Y/N, about your dear baby boy."

Mikey is now pouting, just as he was before. He watches as Draken and Y/N begin to talk about old memories and such. He then lays his head on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around Y/N's and tugging tightly.

"You're supposed to be my girlfriend..." He grumbles out, making her furrow her brows.

She chuckles, "We can figure that out after my shift, Mikey."

Draken only sips from his cup, a knowing smirk on his lips. "Fucking knew it."

↣ baji keisuke:

"Kei, do you really not understand this or are you just wanting to hang out with me?" Y/N huffs, furrowing her brows at her best friend beside her.

Baji pouts at that, looking away from Y/N as she sips her drink. He scoffs, "Excuse me, Y/N, I can hang out with you whenever I want!"

She laughs at that, bumping her hip with his as they near to his street, "That's a whole ass lie and you know it, Keisuke! Your mother won't let you out of the house unless it's school-related, all the other times, you sneak out." She rolls her eyes as Baji crosses his arms over his chest. "But don't worry, we'll be able to go out places after you get your grades up."

He gives her a hopeful glance as he opens his door for her.

Y/N was a great tutor, having been at the top of her class for ages and always being friendly towards her 'students'. Baji was an exception; they were best friends and he purposely put her off task whenever he could. She had to keep him in place whenever they studied together. Next month, there would be a test worth about 40% of their final grade.

She takes off her shoes at the front, taking the slippers from Baji as he slid on his own. He calls, "I'm home, Y/N is over too."

Before Y/N can greet her, Baji's mother comes to the entrance, smiling sweetly at the girl. "Y/N, it's great to see you again, it's been a while." She speaks, then turning to her son, "Honey, do you two have something planned?"

He can feel his cheeks burn at that. Of course he loved his mother, so he told her everything. Well, most. Y/N was one of those things that she knew about.

Y/N blinks and then begins to speak, "Oh, me and Keisuke are going to study—"

"We're going upstairs!" Baji interrupts, speaking over her. He waves his arms in front of Y/N, covering her from his mother's view, "Gonna', um, go to my... my room."

He couldn't tell his mother that he was getting tutored. He said he was doing so good in class and that he was caught up on everything. If she knew what Y/N was really here to do, then he'd be so embarrassed and afraid.

The two girls in the room widen their eyes. Y/N's face begins to heat up at that, looking over Baji's shoulder. "Actually, that sounds really—" She says, voice in a higher tone in anxiousness.

"Oh? Did you finally ask her out, Keisuke?" His mother gasps, placing hands on Baji's shoulders. He nervously nods his head. "Oh, that's great! I'll let you two go now, please stay for dinner, Y/N."

She blinks, clearly about to space out. She then nods at his mother. "Uh... right, thank you for having me over." She says, smiling as much as she could, "Your son is a really good person."

"Only because you help him to be, Y/N." The parent retorts, tilting her head, "You're both adorable together."

Baji feels Y/N hold onto the back of his shirt, making him shiver. She giggles out, "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, we wanted to wait a few weeks before speaking out about it."

This is the point where he knows she's caught on. Thank goodness, that could've gone so bad.

His mother is already holding onto Y/N's hands, swaying them a little as they spoke. "So how did he do it? Keisuke said he had tons of ideas!" She informs Y/N.

Baji's best friend widens her eyes a little before explaining, holding his mother's hands just as tightly, "Well, he was super romantic about it, all cheesy and all!" Baji gasps, reaching forward to stop the fake memory. "He asked me out on the rooftop at school, gave me these chocolates and flowers, oh Keisuke even cried!"

"Okay! That's enough!" Baji exclaims, pulling Y/N away from his parents and wrapping arms around her shoulders. He covers her mouth, making Y/N grab his wrists and laugh silently. "We should get going!"

"Right, right! Don't worry about me, I'm staying downstairs." His mother says, nodding her head.

"And thank you for raising him so well." Y/N says, wrapping an arm around his after getting free from his hold. Baji freezes. "He's really amazing. We're both very lucky people to have him in our lives."

He can see the way his mother's eyes light up. She's so proud of Baji. "Ah, you're wonderful, Y/N." She sighs out with a wide smile, "You treat her right, Keisuke."

Baji nods his head at that and begins to drag her upstairs, trying to get to his room as quickly as possible. He can feel the sweat drip down from his neck, only stopping when he closes the door behind them. A sigh leaves his lips, looking more relaxed now.

Y/N sits on his bed, tilting her head with a large smirk. "So, what was that about?" She questions.

"Mm... don't wanna' tell her about tutoring..." Baji explains, twiddling his thumbs as he stands in front of her, "Sorry about that, Y/N."

"Not that, Kei." She chuckles out, standing up and lifting her chin up, "I mean about you 'finally asking me out'? Hm...?"

Baji is blushing profusely, looking away. He really does not know what to do. "Do... you want to go out with me?" He questions, knitting his brows at her.

"I suppose, if it means we can hang out more." She jokes, shrugging her shoulders at Baji. He pouts, leaning down towards her. He looks disappointed. "I'm kidding, Keisuke! Yes, I'll go out with you."

He smiles widely at that before gaining his composure, giving a sharp exhale. He holds her hands tightly in hers, looking as determined as always. "That's... good! I promise I'll take good care of you!" He states, bringing her closer into his chest. She blinks before closing her eyes. "So... we should probably pretend until I take you on a real date."

She can't help but laugh, wrapping her arms around his mid-section, "I suppose so. But I guess I won't mind playing along."

↣ matsuno chifuyu:

"You've got really pretty eyes, you know that?" The girl in front of Chifuyu claims, looking dreamily at him.

He shifts in his spot, placing the cat food on the counter. "Uh... thank you, I guess." He murmurs out, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "Just this, thank you."

The girl then grins, winking at him as she slowly takes the food from the counter in front of her. She sighs out, "I wish someone as cute as you went to my school." Chifuyu already wants to leave. "It's sucks having these dudes ask you out, and they don't even like you that much, just how you look."

'The same could be said for you', Chifuyu says in his head.

Originally, he was supposed to be back by dinner. Peke J had run out of food from lunch and Chifuyu made it his mission to get some more for his friend. This was the nearest store, and usually Baji picked up the food along with his own for that stray that comes in and out of his room.

But at this point, he'd be late to Peke J. This girl needed to pick up the pace or else Chifuyu would start getting antsy.

He huffs out, "I'm in quite a hurry, actually..." She blinks at him, tilting her head with a small smile. He looks away, uninterested. "Do you mind speeding it up a little? Sorry, I just—"

Her giggle interrupts Chifuyu. And he can't help but wonder why this random cashier won't leave him alone. Is it her job to speak to every customer like that?

"You're just adorable! Do you hear that often? Or am I the only one confident enough to tell it to you straight?" She calls out, voice filling the store at that point. Chifuyu ducks his head, looking around just in case he'd be embarrassed. But he was anyway, this girl was making such a big deal out of literally nothing. "Hey, my shift ends in 10 minutes. We can go to that cafe around the corner and get to know each other."

She puts the cat food down before scanning it, making Chifuyu close his eyes and give a loud sigh. She only winks at him again, leaning her chin in her palm over the counter. She looks up to him suggestively.

"I'll let you know everything about me, hot stuff." She says lowly, watching Chifuyu with lidded eye.

Damn, was she not taking the hint?

He opens his mouth, his temper getting the best of him, to say something to the girl who should be doing her job. But he feels someone bump into his side, arms wrapping around his.

She has a cute little frog hat and a bell collar in her hands, presenting it to the boy. "You think that Berry will like these? He loved wearing the last hat we bought for him, wore it around the house the whole time." She hums out, leaning her head slightly against Chifuyu's shoulder, "I wanna' take some more pictures with you and Berry in his new accessories. You looked so cute in the last ones!"

The smiles she gives him make Chifuyu not argue with the idea. Or the implication that they were a couple. He only looks away with a blush forming on his cheeks and nose. "I thought you deleted those." He clears his throat, playing along.

She giggles at that, thanking him that he wasn't stupid enough to ask who she was, "I may have kept some. I won't tell your sister, I promise." She holds her finger to her lips, as if it wasn't that secret that wouldn't be told.

Chifuyu is sure that if he did have a sister that this girl would be showing these photos to, that would be the least of his worries at the moment.

He blinks, not knowing what to say. When she hears the silence, the mystery girl glances at the cashier — who looks ultimately pissed by her presence — and at the cat food on the counter. She then smiles widely, placing her items on top of them.

"Ah, thanks, I needed to get those for Berry. How sweet of you to remember, I'm always the forgetful one out of the couple of us." She claims, pulling out her wallet. She looks at the cashier expectantly. "Oh? Is this someone you know, babe?"

Chifuyu only shrugs his shoulders, feeling his cheeks heat up at the nicknames. He's never had anyone call him those things before. It was very... cute, coming from someone who sounded and acted like her. So casual.

She holds out a hand to the worker. "I'm L/N Y/N, his girlfriend. It's so good to meet you." She says, getting a lame shake of her hand in return, "And you are?"

The cashier glares slightly at her before scanning the items. Instead of answering, she tells them the price and the mystery girl hands the money before Chifuyu can react. The things are placed in a bag before the worker waves them off.

Chifuyu exits the store, holding the bag in one hand and having his other being held by the saviour beside him. When they round the block, she lets go, making Chifuyu raise his brows.

"Sorry about being abrupt and making you uncomfortable." She says, stepping away, hands behind her back, "That girl just seemed to be too pushy and you weren't having it, so I had to step in."

Chifuyu grins at her voice. The same as before. So she wasn't just playing pretend in another way. He retorts, tilting his head down a little, "No, I wasn't uncomfortable. Thank you by the way, L/N. I'm Matsuno Chifuyu, but you can just call me 'Chifuyu'."

Y/N can't stop the smile taking over her face. She nods her head and continues to walk with him. "Well, you can call me 'Y/N'. It's good to meet you, Chifuyu." She states, noticing the bag in his hands, "Ah, you can keep those. I was in there to apply for a job, but I don't really want to work with someone like her anymore."

Chifuyu chuckles at that, nudging her side, "That's good. And, uh, if you're a fan of cats, I could take you to see the one this food is for." She raises her brows, really wondering if that was okay. They had just met. "My cat's been needing a new collar, actually, the other is getting too tight. And the hat is really cute, I'm sure Peke J will look cute in it."

He watches as Y/N brightens up. "That'd be cool!" She claims, bumping arms against Chifuyu's. He smiles at the contact.

Maybe he could get to know her better. At least pretending to be dating her didn't sound half bad.

↣ mitsuya takashi:

"I'm sorry...?" Mitsuya says, finding himself puzzled by what the manager just said to him. He stands in front of a rack of fabrics, the particular ones he required for the newest project of the Home Economics Club. "I don't understand..."

The manager doesn't let up, crossing her arms over her chest with her heels clicking the floor as she stepped towards the rack. She puts her hand against the materials.

"You see, kid, these are reserved for my regular, high-paying customers." She claims, raising a brow at Mitsuya's school attire. He had come here straight from last period. "I don't believe you could handle the prices I have these situated at."

His classmate had suggested this shop since it was always on magazines and had really good quality fabric. All kinds, you could find there. Mitsuya was excited, until he talked to the manager about which fabrics he wanted to buy. Of course, he knew it wouldn't be cheap so he had the money saved for months.

But this woman just didn't want to give it to him. No matter what money Mitsuya had.

"Tell me the price, I'm sure I can manage." Mitsuya challenges, tilting his head up with a confident smile. His headphones lay on his shoulders, hands in his pockets as he puffed out his chests.

The woman raises a brow at him. She glances to the price tag and retorts, "It comes to ¥62616.950." She watches as Mitsuya's widen ever so slightly, making her smile a little. "That is the lowest price we have, for this fabric."

The manager lifts her chin as if she's won. "Well, if that is all, I will have to greet my other customers." She claims, beginning to walk off. Mitsuya stands there in silence, looking at the fabric. He could've done so well with them...

He's about to turn around to the exit when he hears a call.

"Oh! You're already here!" Someone says, catching Mitsuya's attention.

He turns his head to see a girl walking towards him in a slight skip, all smiley and such. It seems that she emerged from the back room. He goes to step out of the way for her, wanting to be polite in his sour mood, but she stops in front of him. Mitsuya raised a brow before she jumped into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck tightly.

"Um, miss, I don—" He begins to say, but she only hugs him closer, making him lean down so she could talk to her silently.

"What's your name?" She whispers, making him get shivers up his spine.

"M—Mitsuya Takashi, miss." He responds, awkwardly placing his hands to ghost over her hips. He felt his cheeks heat up.

"I'm going to call you 'Takashi' and some cheesy nicknames, okay?" She says, earning a confused nod from him, "Call me 'Y/N'."

He doesn't get time to respond before they're interrupted. "Excuse me." The manager of the shop interrupts, standing in front of them with her hand on her hips. She raises a brow at them. "Do you know this boy, Miss L/N?"

Y/N pulls away from Mitsuya, hands hovering ever so slightly over his chest as she turns to the owner. A reassuring smile on her face tells the owner that there's nothing to worry about. "Hm? Of course!" Y/N calls out, lifting her shoulders a little, "This is my boyfriend, Takashi, I've been waiting for him to show up to your shop all afternoon."

The manager seems taken aback by this revelation. She tilts her head to the side with furrowed brows, watching the two 'lovebirds'. Y/N slides her hand into Mitsuya, squeezing a bit to tell him it was okay. She claims, "He said he needed something for a new dress he's making, so I told him to come over so we could sort things out. Is that alright? I only want him to use the best in town!"

Mitsuya can't help but chuckle at the way the owner is suddenly regretting her decision. He leans against Y/N a little more, only adding more salt to the wound. He claims, "Sorry, sweetheart, I didn't know you were already here."

His eyes trace Y/N's expression as she holds her breath for a moment, looking a little affected by the nickname. He would almost regret it, if it weren't for that cute reaction.

"My apologies, I didn't know you were... an acquaintance of the L/N's." The manager says, bowing her head in shame. She turns to the fabrics. "I'll be happy to give him the discount your family has, Miss L/N."

Y/N grins, nodding her head. "Yep, that'll be fine!" She states, looking over to Mitsuya. He looks a little confused. She then tugs his shirt shoulder and points to the material. "You'll only have to pay a third of the original amount on the ones you want. Is that alright?"

He widens his eyes at the statement before wordlessly nodding his head. He quickly takes the ones he wants and goes to pay for them, the manager doing the transactions. She again apologises for her behaviour before allowing the two to leave.

Outside the store, Mitsuya grins widely at Y/N. "Thank you so much, Y/N. You've helped me so much today, I'm sorry for all the trouble." He says, bowing down a little at her. She stands there, hands in front of her with a grin. "And if you don't mind me asking, what was that all about? That woman changed her whole demeanour as soon as your swooped in and helped me."

Y/N waves her hands, buying a drink from a nearby vending machine and handing him a soda. "Oh, uh, my parents actually own that franchise." She claims, making Mitsuya's jaw drop, but she acts cool. As if she wasn't the daughter of a well-known clothing materials shop. "I stop by to help sort out sales and shit. Got bored and saw the store manager treating you how she did. You seemed really nice, so I decided to help you out the only way I knew I could."

Mitsuya drinks from his can and raises his brow. "By pretending I was your boyfriend?" He hums, making Y/N roll her eyes.

"Oh trust me, it was either that or saying that you were my cousin or something. I doubt she'd believe that." She explains, shrugging her shoulders as they sit down on a park bench, "Plus, if she tells my parents, I'll just say it's something new. No biggie."

She's very kind. Mitsuya really liked that, how she was genuine. Not looking for anything in return. She just wanted to help.

He clears his throat, placing the bag beside him, "Well I want to repay you. Do you mind if I take out on a real date?"

"Oh? You want to go somewhere with me?" She says in a slight chuckle, glancing over to the boy, "So you can get more discounts?"

Mitsuya shakes his head at that. Of course not, the both of you knew that it was anything but that. He hums out, beaming at her, "Just want to do something nice. And maybe get to know you better."

She nods her head at that. "Sure, I'd love to get to know you better too, Takashi."

He squints at that before bringing the can to his lips. "Alright. Meet here tomorrow at 3, sweetheart." He tells her. And he can't help but laugh at the way she looks from him and says that it was unfair.

he loves sinking between them, loves the pressure of them squeezing around his head when he’s buried nose deep into your cunt, lapping away at your juices while his tongue flicks over your sensitive clit. the way they look marked up after he’s done with them is a thrilling sight, enough to make his cock jump back to life for what he promises is just one more round, baby—yet, no matter how many times he says this is the last, it never really is.

so now, as he hovers over you, eyes wide and a little dazed as he stares down at your plush thighs and the skin he cherishes so much, he can’t help but plead for one more thing.

“baby,” he pants, cock throbbing between his legs, painfully red and hard, painfully aching to feel you. you can’t take your eyes away from him, can’t help but trace over his crimson face and damp hair, his flushed tip and that small bead of pre cum that leaks from his slit, practically begging to be swiped away by your thumb. “baby, i wanna try something,” he mumbles.

“what?” you ask, voice breathy and so needy, he almost feels selfish for what he’s about to ask.

“fuck—just gotta try it, ‘kay, pretty? just once,” he babbles, grabbing your thighs with his large hands, pressing them together.

he’s patient—you have to give him that for someone who’s voice is shaky with desperation. he’s slow as he drags his tip along your right leg, grazing the skin and leaving a streak of pre cum along his wake. he moans—whimpers at the slight friction, bites his lips and has that absolutely beautiful look of devastation on his face.

he’s pretty—downright gorgeous, actually, and you don’t mind the blossoming ache between your legs or that heavy feeling on your clit as you long to feel him buried into you. no, instead, you’re excited by the tantalizingly slow way he teases himself, prepared to let him use you for his own pleasure.

“‘s okay, yoichi,” you murmur, cupping his cheek, letting his lean his face into your palm as he groans softly at the way your touch lights him up. “go ahead.”

and that’s all he needs—it’s all it takes for his swollen tip to bully past your thighs, to fuck into them as he gasps and stares down at the way his cock disappears and reappears with every slow thrust. your skin glistens with what he’s sure is a mix of both of your arousals—your slick mixing with his pre cum and lubricating his thick girth as it glides between your legs.

it’s tight—and then it’s tighter as you press your thighs together more for him, making him groan as his arms shake while he holds himself over your frame. his face is slack, painted with bright hues of pleasure as they blend into his clenched jaw and crinkled eyes. he looks good—and you can tell he feels good too with the way he praises you.

“fuck, fuck—feels so good, so perfect,” he whines, “love you, love these thighs—love how perfect you were made for me.”

isagi yoichi thanks whatever divine being sculpted you. he thanks whoever carefully crafted you in all the right places, thanks the diligent hands that made you just for him. you were made for him—he’ll walk through hell and back if he has to prove that, but every square inch of you was made to fit under him, to be grazed by his hands, to be admired by his eyes in ways no one else can hope.

isagi loves your thighs—and he loves the way you let him show you how much he loves them too.

“yoichi,” you gasp, hand finding his hair and tugging a little as you feel the light pressure of his cock sliding against your clit. it’s not enough to make you cum, but it is enough to make you gift him those precious sounds of yours, drawing them out and bringing him closer to the edge with every airy whimper and every breathy gasp.

“so close, baby,” he chokes, “s-so, so close—‘n then ‘m gonna take care of you, ‘kay? make you feel so good,” he promises, “jus’…jus’ gimme a minute.”

a minute is generous—because isagi doesn’t even last another thirty seconds before he’s spilling between your legs, gasping and whining into your neck as he shudders over your body. you hold his body close, kiss the side of his head and murmur sweet praises into his ear and he brokenly calls your name. his hips snap into you, riding out his orgasm as the blunt head of his cock nudges between your legs, as his balls clap against the fat of your thigh while hot and sticky ropes of cum coat your skin.

it’s beautiful—you’re beautiful, the only canvas he ever wants to touch if it turns out looking like this every time. he forces his face from your neck and watches the last few streams of cum leak from between your legs, watches as his cum-coated cock is still so painfully hard even after you’ve so graciously given him his wildest fantasies.

and then you whine, sniffling as you look up at him with those watery doe eyes and that sweet, sweet little pout on your lips—one he can never resist. “wanna feel you, yoichi. please? please, wan’ you to fill me up, yeah?”

“fuck, okay,” he nods slowly, “o-okay, yeah. yeah, anything for you,” he stutters.

and with shaky hands, with tranced eyes, he separates your legs, watches his cum drip down the inside of your thighs and glisten along your skin, and he can’t find any self control as his tip is already tapping against your clit, sliding up and down along your drenched slit before slowly sinking into your neglected cunt.

“fuck me like you mean it, yoichi,” you demand, “like ‘m pretty.”

“sh-shit,” he pants, cock sliding into your pussy like that was made for him to fit into as well, “‘m gonna show you how pretty you are, yeah? so fuckin’ pretty—gonna prove it all night.”