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when you’re riding tsukki and he won’t shut up about how you’re struggling to take him so you shift forward, fingers tightening around the strong column of his neck. you see his eyes dilate, his breath hitch, all because of your fucking hand around his throat.
you get in close. your breath ghosts over his lips, saccharine smile overtaking your face, "you really think your cock's enough to satisfy me?"
he tries to strangle his groan, but you feel how violently his cock kicks inside your cunt.
"does little tsukki need his senpai to teach him how to fuck?" you lick the hollow of his throat. bite down on his neck. relish in the shudders and moans coming out of the usually sarcastic man. "did they not teach you how to make it fit?"
"what the fuck—"
he bucks his hips up into your slippery, wet heat, letting out a string of curses.
"aww, you mad at me, baby?" you're glad the languorous circles in his lap are driving him crazy. he teases you too often not to get fucked with. "should i call kuroo-san and see if he can pencil in a quick lesson?"
content warning ⬩ (all characters are 21+) friends to lovers, modern au, best friend!yuuji, afab!reader, kinda drawn out handjob/guided handjob, cum play (tasting), praise, dirty talk
authors note ⬩ i didn't have a plan straight away to turn this into a series, so this may feel like a big step down from everything that went on in part one... but hopefully u guys still enjoyyy, it's all for the build up of the finale >_< wc 4.4k
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after that night, it isn’t awkward in the way you braced for.
it’s quiet, mostly—soft in that weird, careful way where you both keep reaching for “normal” and almost getting there. you talk like you always do. you laugh at the same dumb things. but every so often, you’ll catch his eyes for a second too long, and the air changes, thickening like the room itself is remembering what your bodies did before your mouths had words for it.
when yuuji shows up, he’s wearing his usual bright smile like armour, but you can tell it’s taking effort. it’s there, but it doesn’t fully settle until you step aside and let him in, until he sees you standing in your doorway with your hair a little messy and your shirt hanging soft and familiar around your shoulders. something in his face loosens, like he’s relieved you look like you.
he drops his bag onto the coffee table and flops onto the couch like he’s trying to prove he can be casual about this. he lasts maybe three seconds before he sits upright again, palms sliding down his thighs, knee bouncing once like his body refuses to act like nothing happened.
“you good?” you ask, and you can hear the smile in your own voice even as your stomach flips.
“yeah,” he says instantly—too quick, too loud. then he pauses, blinks, and huffs out a breath like he’s annoyed at himself. “no. actually, no.”
you tilt your head, waiting.
yuuji rubs a hand over the back of his neck, gaze snagging on everything except your face—the throw pillow, the edge of your coffee mug, the corner of your rug—like if he looks at you too directly, he’ll combust.
“i keep remembering stuff,” he admits finally, voice a little smaller than usual. “like… randomly. and then i’m just standing there like an idiot in the kitchen thinking about—”
he cuts himself off, cheeks going pink so fast it’s almost funny.
almost.
your chest warms anyway, the same kind that used to sneak up on you when he stood too close during study sessions.
yuuji finally looks at you like he’s decided it’s worse to keep it inside. his eyes are a little too bright, a little too earnest.
“can we talk about it?” he asks. “like, actually talk.”
you nod, and he exhales like that alone takes weight off his shoulders. he scoots closer but doesn’t touch you yet, stopping at that careful distance where your knees are almost bumping. close enough to feel him, not close enough to cross a line without asking.
his voice drops, softer. “i don’t wanna mess things up,” he says, and there’s something serious under it that makes your throat tighten. “or do something, and then you feel weird. or pressured.” he swallows. “so i was thinking… maybe we should have rules.”
“rules,” you repeat, because hearing yuuji say it like he’s drafting a contract feels absurd.
“yeah. like… no penetration,” he says carefully. “unless you ever want that. but... not right now,” he glances at you, checking, and then keeps going when you don’t flinch. “and we stop if either of us says stop. no arguing. and if you don’t want something, you don’t have to explain it.”
there’s a pause after he says it, like he’s waiting for you to laugh or bolt.
you don’t. you just feel something soft bloom in your ribcage—annoyingly tender—because he’s nervous and still thinking about you first.
“okay,” you say, quiet.
yuuji’s shoulders visibly drop like he’s been carrying that sentence in his mouth all day. “okay,” he echoes, and his smile finally looks real.
the silence after is the dangerous kind. not empty—just full of things neither of you are saying out loud.
his gaze slides down to your mouth without him meaning to, like his eyes have their own gravity. his lips part. you watch him swallow.
“i also…” he starts, then stops, breath catching like he can’t decide how honest to be. when he tries again, his voice is rougher, lower. “i really want to kiss you.”
your pulse jumps. you don’t even give yourself time to overthink it.
“you can,” you tell him, quick.
yuuji blinks like permission still surprises him. then he leans in slowly, not rushing, giving you time to pull away, even though neither of you do. his hand comes up to your cheek, warm palm, thumb brushing your skin.
the first kiss is careful—soft, warm, almost shy. like he’s checking the edges of something new. like he’s trying not to spook you. and then you kiss him back properly, and yuuji makes a low sound like it hits him straight in the chest.
the carefulness doesn’t turn into force—yuuji isn’t like that—but it does turn into need. his mouth opens, tongue brushing yours in a slow, tentative sweep that feels like a question, and when you answer it—when you let him—he exhales against your lips.
his hand shifts from your cheek to your jaw, fingers tightening just slightly. the kiss deepens, gets messy in that sweet way where you’re both a little clumsy because you’re trying to be good while wanting more. your breaths tangle. tasting that familiar warmth that’s just yuuji.
he moves closer without breaking the kiss, knees bumping yours now, and then you’re sliding toward him because his hands are on your waist, guiding you. you end up half in his lap, turned toward him, and he kisses you like he can’t help chasing your mouth.
“yuuji,” you breathe into the kiss, not a warning—just his name spilling out on instinct.
he answers with a quiet sound, almost a whine, and kisses you again. your weight settles fully onto his thighs, your legs straddling his, and you feel it immediately—heat and pressure through his sweatpants.
your body goes still for a beat, heart jumping into your throat, and yuuji makes a sharp inhale like he felt your pause.
he breaks the kiss but stays close, forehead pressing to yours, his hands gently sliding to your hips. his eyes search your face.
“you okay?” he asks, voice low.
you nod, cheeks warm. “yeah.”
yuuji exhales, then lets out this small breathless laugh that sounds like he’s embarrassed by how obvious he is. “sorry,” he mumbles. “you’re just… right there.”
you shift the tiniest bit—barely anything, just your body settling—and yuuji’s breath catches again, a soft, broken sound that makes your stomach flip harder than before.
his eyes flutter shut for a second, like he’s trying to get himself together. when he opens them again, the look in them is darker, but still him—still warm, still a little stunned, like he can’t believe he gets to want you out loud.
“can i say something?” he asks quietly.
“yeah,” you breathe.
his hands slide from your hips to your thighs, holding you steady like he doesn’t trust his own thoughts right now. he swallows, throat working, cheeks pink but not backing down.
“i keep thinking about what it would feel like,” he admits. “like… your hand.”
your stomach drops, and you can feel the way yuuji tenses under you like he’s bracing for whatever you say next.
he looks down for a second—like seeing himself so hard makes him shy again—then he forces himself to meet your eyes, embarrassed but stubborn about it.
“not even—” he starts, then huffs a quiet laugh through his nose like he can’t believe he’s saying it out loud. “not like… a bunch of stuff. i just…”
his voice drops, rougher, “i wanna know what it feels like when it’s not mine.”
the words sit between you for a beat, heavy and hot.
you blink, breath suddenly too shallow. “you want me to…?”
yuuji nods once—quick, decisive—then immediately softens like he heard how your voice changed and wants to make it safe again. “only if you want to,” he adds, fast. “and i can tell you what i like. i can show you. we can keep it simple.”
simple, he says, like it won’t make your brain go blank.
your hand moves before you can overthink it, sliding down his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under your palm. there’s something grounding about it, about how hard it’s beating—how his body is giving him away even while he tries to act composed.
you trail lower, toward his lap, hovering there like you’re waiting for the last piece of permission. yuuji’s breath catches so sharply you feel it in your chest. you don’t rush. you look at him instead, searching his face.
“okay?”
yuuji’s hands tighten on your thighs. “yeah,” he breathes. “yeah, please.”
you shift just enough to give yourself space, still straddling him but sitting back slightly. your fingers go to his waistband. they shake a little, and you hate that he notices—until his expression changes, softening immediately.
“hey,” he murmurs, gentle. “you’re doing fine.”
it’s the kind of reassurance that hits, making your cheeks burn and your spine straighten at the same time. it makes you braver.
you tug his sweatpants down just enough. the moment you free him, yuuji sucks in a breath like it hurts, like the air catches on the way out. he’s flushed, cock heavy where it rests, already twitching for attention.
his own hand lifts instinctively—like he’s going to steady himself—and then he stops mid-motion. you watch him make the choice, watch him pull his hand back like he’s reminding himself whose turn this is.
“sorry,” he whispers. “okay. um…”
he laughs again, barely a sound, and when he looks up at you, his eyes are bright and overwhelmed, like he’s trying to be brave and failing adorably.
“i usually… go slower at first,” he admits, throat working.
you nod, keeping your gaze on him. it feels important—like this is part of it, too. not just what your hand does, but the way you’re watching, listening, letting him be honest.
yuuji shifts his hips slightly—careful, controlled—then reaches for your wrist. not grabbing. guiding. his hand is warm over yours, steady enough to stop your nerves from making you clumsy.
“like that,” he murmurs, quieter. “yeah. just… hold me like you mean it.”
you close your hand around him.
warm. solid. heavier than you expected, the skin smooth and hot under your palm. your thumb brushes along the underside almost by accident, and yuuji’s head tips back against the couch with a sound that breaks right at the end.
“fuck,” he whispers, breath shaking. “yeah. that’s— that’s really good.”
your pulse is loud in your ears. you try to focus on sensation—how he fits in your hand, the way he pulses once, then again, when you tighten your grip a fraction. you move slowly, testing rhythm, learning how long he likes the stroke, how much pressure makes his breath catch.
“see?” he murmurs, voice low, almost reverent. “this is what i meant.”
you shift on his lap, just enough to make him twitch, and yuuji makes a sound that’s half laugh, half whine—caught between wanting more and trying to behave.
“don’t—” he starts, then his cheeks go red like he realised how that sounded. he swallows, then adds, softer, “actually… you can. it’s just— i’m gonna lose it.”
you smile despite yourself, still moving your hand slowly around him. “you’re the one who wanted this.”
yuuji’s grin turns shy and wicked at the same time. “yeah,” he admits, breathless. “i do.”
he leans forward and kisses you—slower than before, but hot, tongue slipping against yours like he can’t stop himself. and you keep your hand moving while he kisses you, the combination tangling together until his breathing turns ragged and uneven.
yuuji’s hips twitch beneath you again, a reflex he can’t hide, and you feel him throb in your palm like he’s reacting to every little change you make.
and through it all, he keeps talking—soft and earnest, like the words spill out whenever he’s overwhelmed.
“right there,” he murmurs into your mouth. “yeah— keep it like that. don’t— don’t go faster yet, please.” his voice cracks a little, and he exhales hard. “god, you’re— you’re doing so good.”
your curiosity burns brighter with every sound, every twitch, every time he kisses you through every moan he tries to bury between your lips.
yuuji can feel the moment it stops being “just trying something.”
it isn’t when you first wrap your hand around his cock, or when his thighs tense under you, or even when his breathing turns uneven.
it’s the way you look at him while you do it—focused, intent, like you’re studying him for feedback. like you want to understand what makes him feel good, not just get it over with.
it turns his stomach with something warm and helpless.
you keep your pace slow, sliding your hand along him with just enough pressure to make him shudder. yuuji’s head tips back again, eyes squeezing shut for a beat.
“yeah,” he breathes, opening his eyes again, gaze blown soft. “just like that. that’s— fuck.”
you swallow, watching him. “still okay?”
yuuji lets out a quiet laugh, more air than sound, and he looks almost offended you’d even ask. “yeah,” he murmurs. “it’s… it’s more than okay.”
he kisses you again and makes a low, broken sound into your mouth like he didn’t expect it to hit this hard, like the combination of your hand wrapped around him and your lips pressed to his turned his brain off entirely.
his hips twitch, sharper.
he pulls back, breathing hard, cheeks flushed. “wait—” he starts, then takes a breath like he’s trying to keep himself from tipping over. “okay, hold on.”
his voice goes rough, almost pleading. “can i show you something?”
you nod, breath shaky.
yuuji’s hand slides from your thigh to your wrist again, warm and steady. he doesn’t stop you—he just covers your hand with his and guides the motion, like he’s teaching you the safest way to handle something that could make him fall apart too fast.
“slower,” he whispers, and it’s so quiet it almost disappears. “please. if you keep going like that i’m gonna—”
he cuts himself off on a broken exhale, forehead dropping toward your shoulder for a second, lips pressing to your skin, like he’s trying to hide how close he is, how fast you’ve gotten him there.
his hand stays over yours, not to stop you—just to keep you both in that sweet spot a little longer.
his throat works, eyes flicking down to your hand and back up again. he’s embarrassed, sure—yuuji’s always a little embarrassed when he wants something this badly—but there’s this earnestness underneath it that makes your chest tighten anyway.
“like… here,” he says, softer now, focused. his hand shifts over yours, gentle but sure, adjusting your grip with careful precision. he guides you to hold him firmer at the base, like he wants you to feel the weight of him properly, and then eases your hand to glide lighter over the top. “yeah,” he breathes, watching the movement like he can’t help it. “that’s good.”
you follow his lead, slowing down.
yuuji’s exhale comes out long and shaky, shoulders dropping like you just saved him from tipping over the edge too soon. he looks relieved in a way that’s almost sweet—like he’s grateful you’re listening, that you’re taking him seriously.
“okay,” he murmurs. “okay. now—”
his thumb brushes over your knuckles, subtle and coaxing, and you can feel how careful he’s being even while he’s clearly losing his mind. his gaze stays fixed on your hand, on the way your fingers move, like if he looks away, he’ll break something.
“when you get to the top,” he says, voice low, “use your thumb. just… right there.”
you swallow, heat crawling up your neck. “like this?”
you do it—tentative at first, your thumb sliding over the sensitive tip in a slow sweep, smearing the pre that's already collected there.
yuuji jolts like you shocked him.
his hand tightens over yours immediately, just to keep the motion controlled. his eyes squeeze shut, lashes fluttering, and when he speaks, his voice is barely more than a breath.
“fuck,” he whispers. “yeah. exactly like that.”
you watch him, fascinated. it’s almost dizzying how fast the version of yuuji you know—bright, cocky, easy—falls away when he’s being touched like this. he’s wrecked and honest now, breathing through his nose with his mouth slightly open, cheeks flushed dark, eyebrows drawn like he’s concentrating on not losing it.
his hand on your thigh goes tense, grip turning more desperate the longer you keep going.
“you’re doing so good,” he says, thick with it, and it hits you hot and stupid because it’s not even about your body. it’s praise for your patience. for learning him. for not rushing. for letting him be needy without making him feel stupid about it.
you keep stroking, slow and steady, letting his hand guide you whenever you drift too fast. every time your thumb brushes the tip again, yuuji shudders, shoulders tensing like the sensation goes straight down his spine. he makes these soft, helpless sounds—little breaths and broken noises that feel private, like he’s only letting you hear them because it’s you.
yuuji leans forward to kiss you again, sloppier this time, hungry enough that it steals your breath. his tongue presses deep like he’s trying to swallow the feeling, like kissing you might keep him from tipping over.
and you feel his cock twitch hard in your hand.
he pulls back with a broken laugh, cheeks burning. “jesus,” he breathes. “you’re gonna make me cum.”
your stomach flips. “that's good… right?”
“yeah,” he whispers. “yeah, it’s good.”
he swallows, then shakes his head like he’s trying to keep himself together. his hand tightens over yours again, slowing you just a fraction, like he wants to savour it instead of letting it rush.
“keep it like this,” he murmurs. “don’t change anything. just— stay right there.”
you do, watching him closely.
yuuji’s breathing goes uneven, chest rising faster, and his grip on your thigh becomes almost bruising. like he needs something solid to hold onto while everything inside him slips out of control.
“god,” he whispers, voice shaking. “i can’t believe this is your hand.”
the words make your face burn, a bright flash of heat under your skin. you’re not the one being touched, but your body still reacts anyway—curiosity turning reckless, thrilled by the idea that you’re doing this to him, that you’re the one pulling those sounds out of him.
yuuji makes a strangled noise and his hips jerk once.
he freezes immediately after, like he’s trying not to be sloppy, like he’s trying to stay good even when his body is begging. he looks a little panicked for a second, breath hitching.
“i’m close,” he warns, voice breaking. “i’m really—”
you keep it slow, exactly the way he showed you, thumb brushing over the tip in steady little passes that make his whole body tense.
yuuji breaks anyway.
his body goes rigid. his head drops forward to your shoulder, breath shaking against your neck like he can’t hold it in. his hand clamps over yours, keeping you steady—not letting you pull away mid orgasm—like he needs the contact to stay real while it happens.
and then he cums all over your hand.
hot and sudden, thick pulses spilling into your palm, streaking over your fingers. yuuji whines, wrecked and helpless, thighs tensing hard under you like he’s trying to ride it out without shaking apart completely. his breath turns ragged, broken sounds pressed into your skin.
“fuck,” he gasps, voice gone rough. “fuck— i’m—”
he tries to form an apology and fails halfway through it, still trembling, still pressed to you like he doesn’t trust himself to move yet.
you stare down, stunned by the mess in your palm—warm, obscene proof of what you just did to him—then blink and breathe out the first thing that comes to you.
“it’s okay,” you whisper, instinctively.
yuuji stays there for a moment, breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling against you. his hands are still on you, still gripping like he needs to remember where he is. when he finally lifts his head, his cheeks are flushed dark, lips parted, eyes wide and embarrassed in that sweet, ruined way.
his gaze drops to your hand.
and you can see it—the way he swallows, the way his eyes go soft and stunned, like the sight has him halfway back under already.
“…oh,” yuuji says softly, like the sound slips out before he can stop it. his eyes stay fixed on your hand, on the mess in your palm, on the fact it’s his cum there—proof, warmth, the aftermath of him losing it for you.
“wow,” he adds, and then he exhales like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “i— wow.”
you probably should wipe it off. laugh. make it normal.
instead, you feel your curiosity flare up bright and reckless, the same kind that got you both into this in the first place.
you lift your hand slowly, gaze flicking up to yuuji like you’re checking whether you’re allowed. his eyes snap to yours—wide, startled—and you watch his throat work.
“wait,” he starts, voice cracking. “are you—”
you bring your hand to your mouth anyway. just a taste. your lips close around your thumb. your tongue drags once, savouring the lingering traces of his cum while his gaze burns into you.
yuuji makes a sound that’s too close to a whimper.
his whole body tightens, like the sight of you tasting him flips a switch he didn’t know he had. his pupils blow wider, cheeks flushing even darker.
“holy shit,” he breathes. “why would you do that?”
you swallow, cheeks burning, but you don’t look away. “i just wanted to know what it tastes like,” you say, honest.
yuuji lets out a laugh. then he reaches out and catches your wrist gently—stopping you before you can do it again. not rough, not scolding, just overwhelmed.
“you’re insane,” he murmurs, voice shaking with something that sounds a lot like awe.
your heart is hammering so hard you can feel it in your throat.
yuuji looks at you for a long second, eyes dark and warm, and then he leans in and kisses you—like he’s trying to take control back in the gentlest way possible. like he’s trying to replace the taste in your mouth with something he can handle.
and when he pulls you closer into his lap again, you feel it.
he’s already getting hard.
yuuji breaks the kiss with a shaky breath and an almost helpless little sound, like he’s embarrassed by how fast his body betrayed him. his forehead bumps yours, and you can feel the smile he’s trying not to show.
“you’re actually dangerous,” he mutters.
you laugh, quiet and breathless, and his eyes flick to your mouth again like he doesn’t trust it.
he’s still catching his breath when you shift on his lap, and he flinches like the movement drags heat right where he’s already too sensitive. he tries to act normal about what just happened—like he can cum in your hand and recover like it’s nothing—but his ears are still pink, and his gaze keeps darting to you, to your mouth, to your hand, like he’s afraid of what you’ll do next.
you finally reach for a tissue—more out of practicality than embarrassment—and yuuji practically shoves it toward you the second he sees you move.
“you’re…” he starts, then stops. swallows. “you’re not, like— weirded out?”
you tilt your head, amused despite the heat still buzzing under your skin. “are you?”
yuuji’s laugh comes out breathless. “i’m terrified,” he admits, and it’s so honest it makes you smile again. the smile makes him look away, like it’s too much.
there’s a pause. your thighs are still warm from sitting on him. your mouth still tastes like him if you focus on it. your whole body is buzzing in that restless, lingering way—like you opened a door and now you want to know what else is behind it.
yuuji’s hands are back on your waist, absent-minded and careful, like he’s trying to hold you without turning it into more.
you take a breath.
“yuuji,” you say quietly.
he looks up immediately. “yeah?”
his attention locks onto you so fully it feels like being pinned in the nicest way possible. your cheeks heat—not from embarrassment, but from the weight of it.
“i wanna try something,” you admit.
yuuji’s eyes widen a fraction. his hands tighten, gentle. “okay,” he says, voice careful. “what is it?”
you swallow, then force yourself to keep eye contact.
“can you finger me?” you ask, soft but unmistakable.
for a second, yuuji just stares like his brain has to reboot.
then his throat works, and his gaze drops—down your body, down the line of where you’re still straddling him—like he’s imagining it so vividly it makes him dizzy. when he looks back up, his eyes are blown warm and shaky.
“you want that?” he asks.
you nod, shy but sure. “yeah. i want you to.”
yuuji inhales slowly, like he’s steadying himself. his thumbs stroke your hips in small, grounding motions—like he’s calming you and himself at the same time.
“okay,” he whispers. “okay. i can do that.”
then he goes very still.
not in a bad way—more like he’s pausing to make sure he heard you right, to make sure he’s not about to take a step you didn’t mean to offer. his hands stay on your hips, warm and steady.
“you tell me if anything feels off,” he murmurs, voice soft but serious. “or too much. promise?”
“i will,” you say, and your voice comes out gentler than you meant it to.
yuuji nods once, like he’s storing that promise somewhere safe.
then he shifts his hands—careful, deliberate—guiding you up just enough that he can slide out from under you without making it turn into friction. he doesn’t rush. he doesn’t let it accidentally become something else, even though you can both feel the temptation of it in the air.
as you start to settle back onto the couch, yuuji catches you by the hips and helps you down—palms firm, touch steady, eyes never leaving your face.
and when you’re finally in place, he lingers there a beat longer than necessary, still holding you, still careful.
like he’s about to do exactly what you asked—
just not until he’s sure you’re ready for the way he’s going to touch you.
likes and reblogs are much appreciated! | jjk masterlist
synopsis . In which flirting with your tutors goes oh so horribly right wrong.
content . afab!reader, oral sex (f!receiving), forgotten tutoring sesh, dirty talk, a "hint" of chojo, they both talk you through it, squirting, inappropriate use of glasses(?), praise, degrading, men kissing, fake confidence, loots of teasing, hot guys w glasses, a bit of cockiness here and there, overstim, jealousy, they kinda fight over you (just a lil bit), flirting, etc.
word count . 7.4k || author's note: This is a repost from kamitv, if it looks familiar, that's why. banner art from "Hachisuka's Family Kotoribako".
With a soft clack to your kitchen countertop, your pencil couldn't have fallen from your fingers any faster. You can't do it anymore. You can't focus.
You should’ve known better than to invite two hot guys over to your place to study.
With Gojo sitting so closely to your right, lanky leg brushing over yours every now 'n then, his perfect hands soothing just past yours to point at something, and voice as calming and directive as they come. Not to mention how good he smelled. Whatever he was wearing oozed in this rich scent that made your head spin and your figure shift against the island stool you sat on..
Being the most recently spoken, he’s the first to notice your wavering focus. Looking at you with a gentle tilt of his head, "You uh, you alright?"
Your eyes flicker over to his own the moment he decides to part those naturally glossed lips of his again—gaze focusing solely on the faint, but evermore pretty curve that lifts the corners of his lips into a soft grin. Staring, gaping almost, your words come sputtering out past your lips, “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Jus’ can’t seem to focus.”
“Why’s that?” Comes chiming in from the man sitting to your left in a rasped tone that makes your back stiffen. If Gojo’s presence wasn't distracting enough, then you should maybe just ignore the way Choso's equally as curious about your lack of focus as he is.
One hot tutor is fine, but two? Yeah, you were fucked—and not in the way you’d like (yet).
“Well,” You roll your eyes over to your left and make contact with Choso’s curious pupils, one of his brows quirking just barely over the reading glasses sitting center at the bridge of his tattooed nose. “We’ve been at it for like two hours with no break.” You explain to the duo.
Gojo slips a notably scarred hand up to the bridge of his glasses and gives them the faintest push upward along his sharp nose. It was such a subtle adjustment and yet even more of your attention was captured anyway. Which is why you look back over to him and nearly flinch at the instant eye contact.
Those cerulean eyes of his are as sharp as ever as they scan over the entirety of your face. Gojo’s got scratches and scars all over his face, trailing down to his neck, and it makes you wonder what the hell he’s doing outside of class…
“We took a break earlier, no?” He asked, tipping his head further to the side to meet eyes with Choso for a hot second.
The brunette shrugs in agreement, “Pretty sure we did.”
Then both of them look at you and you sink back into your chair, crossing your arms over one another and searching the counter ahead for something-, anything else to settle your gaze onto instead of them. You felt like you were being stripped of every flimsy fabric clinging to your person and neither of them had even done anything aside from look at you, expecting some kind of logical explanation to come from you any moment now.
Though, you didn’t exactly have one. What are you supposed to say? ‘Oh, I can’t focus because both of you smell and look ridiculously good.’ As if.
Instead, you reply to them with a shrug of your own and lift your eyes upward in thought, “The break wasn’t long enough,” You explain with an irritated exhale. “All this studying is overworking my brain.”
Poking his lower lip out a bit, Gojo tuts, “Hmph. So, you wanna do something else?”
Your head turns to him and you blink. “Like what?”
A shade of pink instantly coats his cheeks and now he’s the one finding something on the table to focus his eyes on, “W-Well I dunno, I didn’t exactly have anything in mind…”
You let off a scoff and then quickly turn over to your left.
“Don’t look at me, I’m not the one who needed a break or suggested we do anything else.” Choso quickly breathes out before dropping his eyes to the book in front of him.
And this is exactly what you dealt with almost every other day for the past few weeks—both of them getting weirdly shy at the most absurd moments. It never made any sense to you. You didn’t even do anything; why were they the shy ones? Perhaps it was because they were in your apartment this time? Who knows.
With a sassed roll of your eyes, you push to stand up, “Well, you two should go ahead ‘n leave then...”
“What?” Gojo’s heard gasping dramatically as his head lifts to trail your every movement with his cerulean gaze, “But you have four hours with us.”
Then, before you could even try to get any sort of reply out past your lips, here comes Choso, lightly nudging you on your leg with the end of his pencil as he too looks up at you, “Yeah, you can’t just tap out on us halfway through.”
His words ring throughout the air for a hot second before you slowly look at him with perked brows, eyes searching his own for a direct clarification regarding the context in which he meant that.
Gulping, a shade of red coats the tips of his ears as he quickly turns his head to the side, “I-I don’t mean it like that, I just…”
While his words fade off, Gojo comes back in and suavely keeps up with whatever vibe had just entered the atmosphere between you three just now. “He could mean it like that if you wanted him to though,” He says with a shrug while leaning back against his rather uncomfortable stool.
Choso chokes and his doe-like brown eyes frantically fawn over to his tutoring partner, “What—”
“Seriously?” You breathe out, glancing back and forth between the two.
Both of them lock eyes with one another before redirecting their eyes back to you. Gojo’s got a smirk on his face but Choso looks nervous.
A soft exhale leaves Gojo’s nose and he leans up, moving to rest his head against his knuckles as he props his arm up against the countertop—glasses slipping down a bit with his movements, “Why do you look interested?”
You focus on him for a second and you think your brain begins to lag, “I-I’m not—”
“Oh.” Choso hums, sounding almost disappointed.
You redirect back over to him, “No, I mean-, oh my God,” Your eyes roll and you lift a single hand to wipe over your face, “Can you guys not do this?”
“Do what?” They ask in sync.
With an almost defeated sigh, you simply plop back down into your seat. It’s almost annoying how they can be so hot and yet so clueless at the same time. Or perhaps they were just pretending to be oblivious, who knows.
“Tappin’ back in?” Gojo teases, earning a glare from you. To which his lips curve up into a smirk and his eyes lower a little, “So you really are interested then?”
Well, it’s not like you ever said you weren’t, right? Honestly, look at the two guys for a second. Who wouldn’t be interested? On one hand, you have Gojo Satoru, a staggering six feet three inches tall, as clumsy as they come, eyes bluer than the Pacific, hair as soft ‘n fluffy as ever, and above all else; as sexy as a man could ever be.
Then… there was Choso. The complete opposite in terms of aesthetics. Long dark hair, chocolatey brown eyes, an inked face, a bit less clumsy but definitely looks shy as hell, and of course, just as handsome as your other tutor.
And of course, they both wore these annoyingly whorish frames—you weren’t sure if they were even prescribed or not but either way, the display of those slutty glasses resting so perfectly on both of their faces did nothing more than intrigue you to no end. Which is why you always leave these sessions feeling oh so distracted.
Eventually, you sigh and move to pull out your phone, checking the time briefly. “We have two hours left, right?” You ask softly.
“Sure do,” Choso replies, a sudden confidence sparking within his tone.
“Okay, so… let’s say I am interested,” You suggest with a gentle voice, the sound almost careful as you glance between the two guys. Their entire undivided attention was focused solely on you and fuck was it just as nerve-wracking as any other time they stared at you in sync. “...Now what?”
It’s quiet for a few beats, as if both men were trying to process what you just said and wrap their minds around it. The fact that your question came out so genuine took them both by surprise, despite their teasing.
Gojo’s the first to crack the silence since he’s the one who’s been egging this on the most, “Wait, w-what?” He stammers all of a sudden, trying not to flinch out of nervousness when you focus on him, and clearing his throat afterwards.
You lean toward him and crack a smirk. He’s kinda cute when he’s nervous, you could practically read it all over his face that he wasn’t expecting you to agree, “You heard me. I asked what happens now that I am interested?”
“Oh, I was uh,” He averts his eyes elsewhere, “I was just fuckin’ with you…”
Your expression falls flat, and you almost immediately grow irritated by the way he led you on like that. “Really? But, you were just so confident a few seconds ago,” The way you’re still looking directly at him is making this bothersome wave of heat creep up against his neck, blood rushing to his cheeks again as he unknowingly blushes, hard. “What happened, Satoru?”
“Please,” Gojo breathes out, clearing his throat to hide the near-submissive tone he’d just taken, “Don’t… don’t say my name like that.”
You blink. “Like what?”
Grumbling something beneath his breath, Gojo turns his head to look past you and at Choso—as if to silently request his help. Choso meets his gaze instantly and then your head turns back to the brunette, who feels his breath hitching in his throat with the intimidating eye contact you greet him with.
“What?” You breathe out, trying to figure out why both of them keep looking at each other like that. “One second you two are teasing me but then when I wanna go through with it, you both back out. Why?”
Bashfully, Choso moves a calloused hand to scratch at the back of his neck, “It was just some harmless teasing, we didn’t expect you to uhm… Well, I didn’t think you’d actually be interested.”
“Me neither,” Gojo throws in, “I just saw that look on your face and started saying whatever came to mind…”
You turn to him, “What look?”
A lump is suddenly caught in his throat and for whatever reason, talking to you is so hard now that he knows you’re interested in pressing forward with all the teasing. “It’s in your eyes,” He murmurs to you, “You start looking away from us and then your tone softens as if you’re afraid to get the words out—like you’re afraid to let us hear you.”
Batting your lashes at the man, you can’t help but sit there and stare at him all dumbfoundedly. He… pays attention to you that much? This is the same guy who was just blushing like an idiot two seconds ago, right?
“Y-Yeah,” Of course Choso’s throwing his two cents in next, as if he only gains confidence after Gojo says something worth piggybacking off of. “But then you’ll do that thing with your eyes and look at us like you wanna…”
“Wanna what?” You press. You were finally getting somewhere with this. It seemed like acting clueless here would be your best bet.
He rolls his shoulders back a bit in an attempt at maintaining his confidence before just barely meeting your expectant eyes, “You give this, like, seductive look. Like you wanna eat us alive, and not in a cannibalistic way.”
Snorting, you can’t help but break out a smile at that. “You can just say I look at you like I wanna fuck, y’know.”
His head turns away entirely, and you catch just how reddened his ears are.
“...It’s a bit intimidating,” Gojo tells you, “I prefer the other way you look at me.”
You go to turn back to him, but just as you do, you’re met with him standing now, towering over you in a way that makes you feel small—despite the pink still decorating that angelic face of his.
Gojo leans down a little to you and tilts his head, “Like that, I like that expression.”
You simply gape up at him, “Why?”
You can see his confidence faltering a bit once your question hits his ears but, he's trying… “Well,” Gojo lets his eyes trail along your face before shrugging, giving his best attempt at sounding like he knows what he’s doing. “It’s hot.”
“Yeah?” You suddenly purr, making him want to fall to his knees before you all over again. One change in your tone, and he’s ready to adhere to your every wish and desire in the blink of an eye.
You open your mouth to tease him some more but the sound of your chair moving against the floor behind you makes you angle your head back to see Choso standing and drawing himself closer to the two of you. “That’s not fair,” He pouts a little, leaning in closer to you. “I wanna see the expression Satoru gets to see.”
It can be a bit overwhelming to have two hot guys standing so close to you like this, both gazing at you as if your every faint facial shift was the thread holding together their very lifeline. Slowly, Choso moves a hand around to tip your head back to him fully and his body grazes your backside in the process.
Whispering, “Is this it, Satoru?” Choso asks.
Gojo tilts his head a little more to get a better look at the way you’re holding eyes with Choso and then he nods, “Yeahh, that’s the look.”
You gulp and Choso lets a hum vibrate deep against his throat, “Then you’re right,” His fingers start slipping down your jawline and to your neck as he leans in a little more, “It is hot.”
Gojo lifts a careful hand next and finds his fingers taking your chin into his hold and pulling your attention back to him. “Hey,” He coos, “Don’t forget about me, yeah?”
You swallow thickly. You could feel Choso creeping even closer behind you, the tip of his nose soon grazing the side of your neck while Gojo remained in front of you—staring down at your lips completely unashamed.
“You said you were interested, right?” Gojo asks, closing whatever distance remained between his frame and your own.
You could feel your body heating up already just from finding yourself sandwiched in between the two guys like this. How did you end up here again…?
You nod, just barely. “Yeah, but are the two of you just teasing me again or…” Gojo slips the tip of his thumb up to trace the outline of your lower lip and you almost forget to finish your statement. “Or are you ready to follow through this time?”
“Depends,” Gojo cracks a smirk you’ve never seen on him before and then weighs himself close enough so that his minty breath is tickling the skin of your lips, “Do you want us to follow through?”
Before giving you the chance to reply to that, Choso slithers his touch down to your waist and gives you a featherlight squeeze, “You really wanna know how long you can last with us before tapping out?” He asks shyly, referring to the earlier statement that started this whole thing, “Y’know we’re not gonna let you give up halfway through.”
Gulping, “I think…” Suddenly, your hands start moving, and you place one overtop of Choso’s, and the other slips up a bit to tug on Gojo’s blue cardigan. “Both of you should have a little more faith in me.”
And then you’re pushing your lips against Gojo’s and he’s letting out a whorish moan into your mouth—both caught off guard and relieved at the sensation of finally getting to feel the same lips he shamefully stares at during every study session. You kiss the man like you’re hungry for him and it makes his knees weak in seconds, mind spinning at the reality of finally being able to kiss you.
When you do pull away, it’s only to quickly turn your head back to Choso and crash your lips onto his, readjusting your hands against both of them to tug them closer to you by their shirts.
While your lips work against Choso’s, he’s letting off this whine into your mouth as if he’d never been touched before—especially with the way you were holding onto his shirt to keep him from pulling away. All as Gojo angles his focus to your neck and feels your own little groans vibrating against your throat in the midst of receiving double the attention.
Gojo fights the urge to pull your lips back to his own and you feel his mouth spread over your skin just mere seconds before he bites down. In surprise, you end up gasping in Choso’s mouth and he uses that as an opportunity to slip his tongue in. In that moment you felt like you needed some kind of control here.
Choso was pushing deeper into your mouth and Gojo was leaving marks all over your neck. Naturally, you let your hand reach down and grab the twitching bulge Gojo’s been hiding for far too long now. At that, he snatches his mouth away from your neck with a reddened face and a hitched gasp.
His lashes bat and he lets his eyes fall to your hand that’s trailing the outline of his hard cock. “Fuck,” Gojo breathes, falling right back into your neck and letting his hips rock into your hand while you touch him.
Your other arm wraps around Choso’s neck and you feel him smile into the kiss for only a split second and then his hand meets your throat to keep you from pulling away this time. Gojo adjusts slightly and presses small kisses into your shoulder before moving as far as to kiss Choso’s fingers.
It’s only because of that as to why you feel Choso’s hand leave you and he finally breaks the kiss. When your eyes open, you find Choso’s eyes focused just past you and your head oh-so-curiously turns just to see Gojo sucking on the tip of his thumb now. You unintentionally squeeze his cock through the layers of his clothing and Gojo’s moans before parting his lips and taking Choso’s thumb into his mouth fully.
“Shit,” Choso whispers, pressing the pad of his thumb against Gojo’s tongue to watch the unbelievably slutty expression the man makes in reaction.
In the midst of that, you let your hand pull away from Gojo’s crotch and try to slide it past his waistband. Just when the faintest bit of your fingers graze his bare skin, he tugs his mouth away from Choso’s hand and turns right into you to distract you with another kiss.
While his lips run over yours, he takes your wrist and instead guides you over toward Choso, who takes your hand and drags it down his body until you reach his erection. “I need your attention too, y’know,” He comments, feeling the way you respond by running your hand over his outline just like you did with Gojo.
Though, it almost seemed like you were trying to feel the difference between the two. Especially with the way you smile into your current kiss.
The moment you do, Gojo tugs away and scoffs. “You’re having too much fun with this,” He whispers.
Choso’s lightly pressing his hips into your palm but he’s nodding, “Way too much fun.” He adds on.
Despite their collective realization, both of the men are panting and blushing a bit more than they even realize. They both look as though this is the most they’ve felt of a woman in forever and the mix of starvation and desperation in their eyes is driving you insane.
You open your mouth to say something against their claims but Gojo speaks before you can, “You can feel how badly we want it but..”
Choso picks up right where Gojo leaves off, “Makes’ us wonder how worked up all this has you.”
You’re swallowing something down before you even realize you are, probably nerves as you feel your face heat up. You think you liked them both a little bit more when they were the nervous ones. Taking a deep breath, “I–”
“Show us,” Gojo cuts off.
To which Choso leans closer, “Please?”
——
It never takes much for you and you weren’t exactly the strongest soldier.
Only a few moments later and you find yourself in your living room with the two men now, in quite the position, as well.
Now sitting in Gojo's lap as he holds your legs open, you watch with heavy batted breath as Choso lowers himself down onto his knees in between your perfectly parted thighs.
Gojo's fingers soothe over the inner parts of your legs, watching the way your cunt twitches cutely against the soddened fabric of your panties and he chuckles. His warm breath tickles your ear and you're already squirming against him, "Looks like you've been cravin' this for a while now, huhh?" He utters behind the shell of your ear.
Your jaw falls open a little and all you can do is gasp at the feeling of Choso hooking his eager fingers around the lace of your panties and giving the fabric a polite tug, soon revealing your gorgeous cunt to both of their greedy eyes.
"She had to have been," Choso hums as his eyes rake over the slick dribbling so prettily out of your pulsing pussy. You just barely catch the way he stuffs your panties into his pockets before leaning in close and taking a strong inhale of your scent.
You shift in Gojo's lap again and he chuckles, "That was kinda hot, wasn't it?" He asks you. The worst thing about the situation you've found yourself in has to be the fact that you felt the wild jump of Gojo's lengthy cock under the curve of your ass.
Turning your head away, you let off another sigh, "Y-Yeah, I guess..." You murmur, earning a scoff from Gojo.
Suddenly a hand is meeting your jaw and he's turning your head back into place, "Don't do that, bring back the confidence you had earlier. C'mon, tell Cho' how pretty he looks down there, won't you?"
Choso gulps at the sound of that and his eyes so gently flick up to you, the natural plea that rests so perfectly in those dark brown pupils of his making your body react with another filthy drip of arousal. Then the brunette has the nerve to give you this innocent lil tilt of his head and you swear you can feel a sense of cockiness oozing off of him all of a sudden.
Your lips spread to try and follow Gojo's instructions but you get a bit distracted by the way Choso turns to kiss your inner thigh, trailing said kisses up until his lips are grazing over your drooling cunt.
And of course, seeing all of this, Gojo only wants to make things all the more difficult for you so he leans into your neck and kisses you too. Then his hands pull your legs up a bit more, forcing you to spread open even further. At that, Choso moves in and quickly latches his lips onto your folds, giving them one firm suck to taste.
Gojo's tongue is felt darting out against the skin of your neck and you swear your entire body is on fire right now. The moan that leaves your throat as Choso begins to drag his tongue lazily between your soaked hole and as Gojo redirects his hands up to your tits is rather pathetic.
You'd forgotten all about the little direction Gojo had given you and all you could focus on was the way Choso's mouth felt clinging onto your pussy as if it were the sweetest taste to ever hit his tongue and the way Gojo rolled and pinched your nipple in between his fingers, pressing hot kisses all into the side of your neck simultaneously.
It was too much attention in too many places all at once. And that was just the foreplay.
Soon, Gojo is messily unbuttoning your shirt and exposing your tits to the confined study room, grabbing a handful of your breasts and fondling them against his palms before his voice meets your ears again.
“I wonder how many of these tutoring sessions you’ve spent imagining this,” He whispers, tipping his head to the side a bit to get a good look at the rather starved Choso in between your legs. “All those times you were in a daze, is this what you were thinking about? Having us like this?”
Choso’s lips pry away from you and he quickly replaces them with a rude thrust of his two fingers into your squelching cunt, your arousal dripping all messily off of his skin as he lifts his head and focuses on your expression.
He watches the way you struggle to get out words instead of moans and it only makes the corner of his lips twitch.
You let out a bated breath and both men are hanging off every sound and syllable that’s leaving your lips, “N-No, I… fuck, I’ve never-”
Choso curls his thick fingers against your sopping walls and tilts his head innocently at you, “Don’t lie now. Surely you didn’t get this wet from a couple of kisses,” He hums, voice a pitch deeper than you remember. This time when you look at him, you can’t help but notice the bit of fog building up on the bottom edge of his glasses.
Your back arches up from Gojo’s chest a bit and you could practically hear him smiling behind you. “I think she did, Cho.” He chuckles right next to your ear.
Watching Choso’s fingers dive in and out of you, you’re left sitting there forced to listen to the two exchange words as if you’re not even there. Choso merely takes his free hand and pushes his frames higher up onto his tattooed nose bridge before flashing a wet smile, “Yeah? Think’ she’s that sensitive?”
Gojo lets his hands meet your legs and he stretches you out even wider, grinning, “Mhm, look at her. Falling apart over just your fingers.” He teases before turning his head to kiss the side of your face.
Your mouth was busy opening and closing every few seconds but the only sound that actually escaped your throat was one pathetic moan after the other.
Catching sight of this, Choso pouts as if he were mocking you, “She can’t even speak, aww.” He coos with a hypnotic curl of his fingers inside you, letting them caress spots you swear you could never reach on your own.
This time you let out a groan and your head falls back on one of Gojo’s shoulders, “Don’t… patronize me.. ah-, assholes.” You just barely manage out.
To which Choso scoffs, “She says while moaning.”
“Shut up.” You huff right back at him.
And then of course Gojo comes right back to your ear, whispering, “Shut him up, sweetheart.” Before moving his hand to yours and directing your fingers back into the dark tresses of Choso’s hair.
You feel the man’s digits falter inside you at the touch alone and a small gasp slips past his lips the moment he feels you grasping at his hair and forcing him back down in between your legs. The next thing you feel is his tongue on your clit again, greeting it with a needy lather of drool and one messy flick as if he belonged exactly there.
“There you go, atta’ girl.” Gojo’s voice is hitting you again and his hand leaves your own, “Doesn’t that feel so much better?”
You’re nodding almost dumbly for a second, mumbling a hardly coherent, “Uhuh.” Before Choso starts spelling something out with his tongue while his fingers are busy drawing out the messiest of squelches from your cunt.
Not that you ever get time to focus on only one thing with these two though, “And what about me?” Gojo starts once more, his hands at your sides now—trailing up, “Will I get the same treatment if I keep talking, hm?”
You scoff, “You’d like that too much.”
He rolls his eyes and then nods his chin at Choso, “And you think he doesn’t?”
“He-,” Just as you’re about to work out some sort of argument to that, though you’re not sure what, Choso drags his fingers out of you and quickly replaces them with the entirety of his mouth. He lets out a heavy groan against you and you lose all train of thought. “Oh fuck, right there..”
Gojo, ever the drama king, starts frowning. His hands are busy fondling your tits now but he’s far too greedy for that to give him any sort of satisfaction in all this, “I’m starting to feel left out, y’know.” He tells you.
You glance at him and with only one look into your eyes, he could tell you were far too wrapped up in pleasure to manage out any sort of solution to that. Even so, you do try to get something out even with your voice wavering with moans, “Satoru, I–”
“Are you now?” Choso’s heaving out all of a sudden.
The man who was just on the verge of locking his jaw trying to get more of your taste down his throat quickly receives the attention of both of you. He’s licking at his lips and you quickly notice how his eyes are trained entirely on Gojo like he was about to be his next object of starvation.
You hear the way Gojo gulps and his voice is almost quieter, “Just a little, yeah.”
Nodding, Choso leans down one more time to sloppily kiss your dewy pussy, “Mh.” He hums before sitting almost all the way up, “C’mere then.”
“W-What?” Gojo stammers, your tits still in his palms.
“I said come here.” The brunette repeats more sternly.
Maybe you imagined this part but you swear you feel Gojo’s cock jump against your ass. And before he can even try to move, the impatient Choso is already leaning up toward the two of you and taking Gojo’s jaw in one hand—the other not failing to make up for the lack of his mouth with two fingers diving right back into you. Brows furrowed and pout ever-so-present on your face, you watch closely as Choso presses his lips into Gojo’s.
Then, Gojo’s hips roll upward to grind into you slightly as Choso shares your taste with him.
The kiss they share is absolutely nasty and depraved on both ends. Choso’s tongue is sinking into Gojo’s mouth and you hear both of them groaning against one another. You sit there, quite literally in between the two, watching the way Gojo’s drooling into it and the way their lips glide over one another sensationally.
Choso’s fingers trash at your insides with each second his lips remain on the man behind you and you eye the way he swallows up every slutty sound that washes out of Gojo’s throat.
By the time they finally pry away from one another, you think you’ve just about soaked the entirety of Gojo’s lap.
The brunette lets out a pant and you think this is the most confident you’ve seen him since-, well, ever. “Still feeling left out, pretty boy?” He asks softly. Gojo shakes his head, cheeks as flushed out as ever, and Choso lets out a scoff. Then he glances down at his fingers and slips them out of you just to smile at the sight. “Good because someone here really enjoyed that.”
“Hm?” Gojo hums lightly, letting his eyes follow Choso’s. As he sees the sheer mess you’ve left all over Choso’s hand, he laughs breathlessly. “Ohh, you liked that huh?”
And just like that you were right back where this all started, in between the two of them and unable to focus on anything. This time, instead of studying, it was the raw attention and focus you were receiving from the two of them at the same time that made your brain feel all numb.
All you could do was nod, refusing to open your mouth in fear of whatever sinful noise was destined to pour out of you.
“Of course you did.” Gojo comments.
Choso lets out a little hum of his own and pulls away from both you and Gojo, “Good thing we’re not done with you yet.” He says before diving his fingers past his lips and licking off the mess you’d left there.
You hear Gojo gulp behind you, “...We’re not?”
To which Choso cocks a brow, “Don’t you wanna taste directly from the source? Bet’ you she’s even sweeter after she cums.”
——
And that’s roughly how you end up where you are now—lying back flat against the couch with Gojo getting his taste of you. One could argue that he’s a far messier eater than Choso is and in a way, that’s almost better.
If you thought Choso had you losing your mind, you think Gojo’s a little bit worse. Especially since he spent all that time waiting and watching. Gojo’s breath mingles hotly into the drooling folds of your cunt and he only uses a single hand to keep you spread open for his tongue to work against you.
Not only is he messier but he’s also nastier, pulling away for only seconds just to let a fat glob of spit trickle down in between your slit. And after each time, you’d watch the way he flashes this drunken smile before diving right back in.
Choso, also not wanting to be forgotten, has been busy holding your legs open and whispering softer praises into your ear. He’d taunt you with murmurs of, “Whose tongue do you like better?” and, “You’re so loud. Does it really feel that good?”
Each question goes pretty much unanswered since you’re too busy moaning and writhing around Gojo’s tongue but at some point Choso gets a bit jealous. You had enough energy to respond to Gojo before when he was talking to you.
Hence why Choso slides a hand down and starts thumbing at your clit in a slight attempt at gaining your attention again. Does it work? Not really since you feel Gojo sliding his mouth up and kissing both Choso’s recently added thumb and your clit at the same time.
The motion seems to catch Choso off guard and he glances down at Gojo, “C-Can’t you focus on one thing at a time?” He unintentionally stammers.
Instead of answering, Gojo takes that greedy mouth of his and angles it further onto Choso’s thumb before it slips past his lips and into his mouth completely. Before you could whine at the abrupt loss of attention where you were currently making a mess of your couch—Gojo’s multitasking and shoving two long fingers inside you.
Both you and Choso have the same flushed reaction as you two watch Gojo put on the sluttiest little show. His other hand meets Choso’s wrist and he starts sucking on his thumb as if he were needy for something more all whilst scissoring his digits against your sappy walls.
Choso opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo pulling away from his thumb all of a sudden, “If you wanted my attention so badly, you should’ve just asked for it.” He calls out, tilting his head a little, “Y’know, instead of getting in the way of my meal.”
You glance up at Choso and watch the way his face reddens as he snatches his hand away from Gojo. “I-I didn’t–”
Choso’s cut off again, this time by watching Gojo lower his mouth to you once again and give your pussy the lewdest slurp as he suckles your taste into his mouth. Gojo looks down and watches the way your body spasms in reaction and he scoffs, “See? Look at what you were interrupting, Cho.”
He grits his teeth in reaction and wants to say something snarky in response but he instead feels something wet drop onto his other hand. Looking down, Choso realizes he was drooling and quickly wipes his mouth off.
Now, whether or not he was drooling because of the way Gojo just sucked his thumb off or because of the way Gojo was now moaning into your cunt was completely unbeknownst to him. Either way, Gojo had something to do with it and it was starting to make Choso feel embarrassed.
Wiping his mouth off all aggressively, he hears a slight chuckle coming from you and his eyes fall onto your face immediately.
Letting out a small bit of laughter, you end up pointing at his face, “You’re blushing, Cho.”
Said blush only worsens when you point it out and he groans, “You have no room to speak. I just watched you cum on his tongue three times in a row.”
Gasping at a sudden smack against your cunt from Gojo’s hand, your back arches up and the hand you’ve got down in his hair gives his head a mean tug. You hear the way Gojo whines but your focus is still slightly on teasing Choso.
Breathlessly, “A-And you… hah… came untouched,” You point out.
Baffled, Choso’s brows push together and he looks down at himself just to see yet another embarrassing sight. His eyes flick up to you and he opens his mouth but you’re reaching for him and pulling him down before he can try to explain himself.
And then your lips are on his and you’re using the kiss to drown out your whines and whimpers due to Gojo’s persistent lapping. It’s all messy with the way you’re letting yourself melt onto Choso’s lips while Gojo’s thick tongue works you toward yet another orgasm.
At some point you bite on Choso’s bottom lip and he pulls away from your mouth, wincing in surprise. When his eyes open and fall on you, he’s met with the sight of your body trembling a little and you look so blissfully fucked out.
He glances down at Gojo for a moment, who looks like he hasn’t moved an inch within the past few minutes and is currently ignoring the weak push of your hand against his head.
“Choso,” You whisper, earning his eyes on you again.
He raises a brow in faint concern and lets his head weigh to the side a little, “What? Doesn’t that feel good?” He coos.
You’re gaping at the man for only a second longer before he watches your eyes roll back and your body arch off the couch, “I-It’s too much, I-I can’t… mgh, I’m gonna-”
“Again?” Choso grins.
You shake your head, “N-No-, fuck. This is-, hnngh-, d-different.”
“Different?” He repeats, quickly turning to Gojo who’s all but lost in eating you out.
He’s branding his tongue into your pussy at this point, having seared his name into it multiple times—first and last. When Choso looks at the man again, he’s met with Gojo’s pussydrunken blue eyes. Most of his face is soaked in remnants of you and he’s stuffed his tongue into you enough times to leave all of his jaw and neck soaked.
Pulling away just barely, Gojo mumbles, “She’s gonna squirt.” And then smiles and dives right back in.
You feel his tongue lull around your clit in messy circles and his drenched fingers slip right back into you again—printing his fingertips against your g-spot and grinning through every second of it.
It’s a messy repetition of tugging his fingers out, sucking every drop off of them, and then sliding them back in for a while and your legs are really trembling now. You could feel yourself clenching and slavering up just about everything in between your legs at the moment.
It’s not until Gojo removes his hand entirely and starts grinding against the couch for friction while only using his mouth again that Choso shakes out of his little daze and clears his throat.
“Shit, Satoru move over.” Without waiting for a response, he’s quickly shifting himself toward Gojo and nearly shoving the guy over just to make some room for himself—your legs flailing further open just to fit both men in between them.
Gojo’s far too drunk in lust to argue with Choso but you see the frustration in his white furrowed brows when Choso angles his head closer and takes your clit into his mouth. Gojo lets off an annoyed groan against the puffy lips of your pussy, and the two are practically fighting over space with their tongues now.
With both of them on you, you don’t have room to say anything or even speak at all since you’re left whimpering and holding onto both of their heads—weakly pushing at them and yet lifting your hips to their faces simultaneously.
Not even a minute with both of their mouths on you passes before you’re finally finally squirting like they both seemed to want you to. It’s only then that they pull their faces away a little—only enough to watch the way you shake and enough for you to quite literally wet up their glasses.
“Fuuck,” Gojo chokes out for the first time in what felt like forever, voice all husky and eyes just watching the filthy mess you’re making just a few inches away from him.
Choso’s got the same surprised expression on his face and even in your panting and huffing, you manage to catch a glimpse of the way you, quite literally, wet up the entirety of both of their glasses.
By the time you’re done, your body is quivering and your arms have found themself over your face—hiding your expression from your two tutors who were still staring at you in pure awe.
Eventually, you hear one of them chuckling and lift your arm just a little to look. Gojo’s got the biggest smile on his face and his glasses are in his hands now, using the bottom of his shirt to clean them off. “I can finally scratch that off my bucket list.”
You and Choso both blink in innocent unison. The brunette looks at you for a second and then back at Gojo, “Cross… what off of your bucket list?”
Gojo holds his glasses up and his smile seems to widen, “Using these for something other than to see.” He says with a small shrug.
Choso lifts his hand to his frames and takes them off just to look at them. He quickly finds himself admiring the wet mess you’ve made of them and it clicks in his head exactly what Gojo was talking about.
“Huh. Hey uh,” He looks over to you and squints a little so he can tell whether or not you’re still covering your face, and when he spots you looking at him, he smiles. “After we clean you up, can I take a picture of them like this?”
You don’t think your brain is all the way there yet so you find yourself just staring at him instead of answering—trying to figure out if he actually just asked you that.
“…And after he’s done with that, can I lick them off?” Gojo adds in.
At that, you let your legs fall shut and turn to face the couch instead of them. Letting out a steady reply for the first time in what had felt like forever, “You’re both sluts—do whatever you want.”
Choso smirks, “Hot.”
And Gojo bites his bottom lip, “Can we start with that during our next ‘study’ session?”Oh yeah, that’s right. You were supposed to be studying with these two…
Riding Isagi has been PLAGUING my mind. Like I want that guy till he’s crying shaking stuttering. I need to see the whites of his eyes when they roll to the back of his head. I need to physically feel the weight of the air with all the sex mingled with it. I have gotta hear that nasty sloppy sound of the froth of us meeting again and again. I wanna ask him about the most mundane things (like what he wants for dinner or some shit) just to see him struggle to answer. Wanna praise him just to if he’ll slobber from the excitement or just look at me with a dumb fucked out little smile…I need to FUCK this guy…and then sweetly kiss him whole again :D
૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, established relationship, smut, creampies, praise!kink, cow girl, hair pulling, pro player!isagi, fem!reader - not beta read !
when isagi plays well, you’ll often reward him.
he’s often deserving of it. he puts his heart and his soul, his life force into playing soccer for the best results and to become the best. isagi is a hard worker and from that stems his yearning for attention and praise. it’s in human nature after all, to want to be told ‘you’ve done well.’ ‘i’m proud of you.’ ‘you’re so good.’ — to chase after a prize.
you know that sometimes isagi has his sick little fantasies of debauched domesticity. to come home to you and play a sinful game of house — he’d never make you a trophy or housewife for that matter because he loves and respects you way too much. but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about bringing the fantasy into the bedroom. and as said before, when isagi plays well… you indulge him.
“how was your day, yoichi? did you miss me, honey?” you purr, smiling with your tongue in the corner of your mouth at the sight of twinkling azure eyes rolling back into his skull. your fingers twirl daintily in the dark baby hair’s on the back of isagi’s neck — eliciting a high pitched mewl from deep in his chest. the angelic sound turns into a suprised hiss when you grab the roots of his silky locks and tug isag’s gaze up to face you. “answer me, baby.”
he looks up at you, delirious — his expression appearing high as a kite despite there having been only a few kisses exchanged between you both. between your tongue in his mouth, running over his pearly white teeth, and your warm, sticky cunt wrapped around his aching shaft…yoichi doesn’t know how to think. let alone formulate a proper response.
“yoichi—“
“fucking missed you, baby,” the striker’s brain short circuits at the feeling of your juices dribbling down his cock resulting in obtuse droplets forming between his loaded balls. it grounds him yet destroys him as the same time — enough of isagi’s consciousness coming back to him to dig his nails into the fat of your ass, lifting and dropping you in his lap for some well deserved friction. “always do. miss my girl, miss her pretty face. h-her wet. fucking. cunt. wrapped around me like this….god, fuck!” he punctuates each word with a forceful jug of hips up into your core.
you find it so cute how he tries to stay in control, keep a level head when you’re on top. spoiling him. yoichi let’s you take over the rhythm of your hips — so you start off slow, circling yourself in his lap and squeezing down on his heavy, throbbing dick before you switch to bouncing up and down. he swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing in anticipation when you grab his large hands with your smaller ones and guide them from your backside to your chest.
there’s no way to properly describe how much you affect isagi. you make him feel like a hormone- crazed high schooler with the way he eagerly fondles your chest, brushing his thumbs over your sensitive nipples until they harden and form those pretty peaks he loves so much. he hungrily watches your face, listens out for the change in the pitch of your dreamy lullaby-like moans that lets isagi know you feel so fucking good and that he’s touching you just right. his observant cobalt eyes peer up at you, watching you as if he’s searching for constellations in the sky. he finds them when your own eyes grow starry with tears, aligning perfectly with the surge of pleasure that shoots through you.
if he had the words, isagi would tell you that you looked like an angel. his lips quiver around the shape of the complement and fade off into a shaky whimper exhaled into the weighty scent of sex in the air. embarrassment burns in the centre of his chest like a ball of gas in outer space because isagi can still hear himself babbling and moaning ad-libbing the sounds of your skin meeting his and the sloppiness of his cock slipping in and out of your creamed cunt.
the mix of your arousals makes a papping noise that makes isagi dizzy — the gem-shade of blue in his eyes overtaken by white as they roll back into his skull. he misses the warm, sluice, hug of your pussy when you pull off of him and never wants to leave it when you slam back down, squealing to yourself cutely because you’re high off of pleasure too.
you have him so fucked up, he starts to wonder if he really deserves this — either way, isagi clings to every ounce of pleasure he gets from you riding him stupid. from your thighs slapping down on his, to the way you sensually grind down on his cock and use him to churn up your own insides.
before you lose him to overthinking instead of ecstasy, you nose up the side of isagi’s neck and press grounding kisses to his piping hot flesh as you praise him. “you’re so good, yoichi. played so well today too. my good boy,” you coo against the shell of his ear, basking in the way he trembles and whines, his cockhead leaking up against your equally sopping walls. “made you, hah, dinner baby. your favourite, just how you like it.”
a tingling sensation builds behind isagi’s pelvis and a wildfire of lust spreads throughout his body, burning white at the base of his lungs — stealing away the words that he needs to speak. you watch as he tries and fails, reduced to a bumbling mess of tears and a sloppy cock.
licking up the side of yoichi’s face and catching a stray tear of his before it falls too far, you peel back your hips — both of you dropping your gazes to the opaque milky strings of slick that tie you to one another like strings of fate.
isagi heaves at the sight, dragging you down to lie on his sticky chest — the dire need to be closer to you shooting down his spine. “you spoil me so much, precious girl.” he chokes on the syllables, stuttering while you grind into one another sensually. “really takin’ care of me.”
you can hear his heart pounding against his rib cage in this position and look up to isagi’s lovesick face, pouty and wet like a puppy. “i have to take care of my precious boy, he’s the best striker in the world after all.” you say quietly, feverishly bucking your squelchy core down on his heady cock. isagi makes a face, one that’s twisted in a mix of agony and rapture, and his nails dig into the meat of your thighs once more — holding you in place while he wildly fucks himself into you.
“y-you’re gonna cum, aren’t you, pretty boy?” you continue to tease him, your words punctuated by his rapid thrusts and your own high pitched squeals. isagi nods with a pout, his sensibility abandoned. “my boy’s so worked up, ‘m so proud of you, yoichi. use your words and you can cum inside me this time.”
sweat mats darkish midnight hair to isagi’s forehead, pearling on his hairline like the tears in his waterline. he blinks them back, barely able to focus on you, especially since you’re squeezing down on him so hard. “i wanna cum,” he chants dumbly, his voice muffled by the exertion of pounding your puffy pussy raw. “lemme cum, please.”
smiling, you brush back his bangs and grab at them so you can tug his face up towards yours. “kiss me, yoichi.”
“oh fuck,” isagi screws his eyes shut and rasps, tone whiny, craning his neck up to meet your lips. “hah, hah, hah—!”
you cut off his candy-like and heavenly whimpers with an intimate, open-mouthed kiss. isagi pants against your tongue as you force it lovingly past his lips, pressing it up against his while you swap spit with one another. he cums like this, hard, quickly filling you up with viscous white that taints your insides and you follow not long after — painting his lap with your claim as your breath mingles in the sec tainted air vibrating in between the two of you.
when you pull away, lazily flopping into yoichi’s strong arms — you remain connected by a string of saliva that he licks up eagerly. isagi gives you a dumb, sexy fucked out smirk just for good measure, still pulsing inside of your warm sex.
“i love you, pretty boy.” you breathe, kissing his cheek dotingly.
“i love you most, precious girl.” isagi breathes back, keening happily into your affectionate touch.
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You were curled up with Megumi on his bed, tangled in soft blankets, lips swollen from kissing. His shirt was halfway off, your fingertips dragging down his chest like you were memorizing him in slow motion.
He watched you with dark, heavy-lidded eyes. Quiet. Breathless.
He always got like this when things got hot—focused, but somehow still shy. Like his brain short-circuited the second you started touching him like this. Still, he never rushed. Never pushed.
You straddled his lap, grinding slowly against the hard line of his cock through his sweats, and he groaned low in his throat, fingers tightening on your hips.
You leaned down, pressing your lips to his jaw. “You okay?”
His voice was wrecked. “More than okay.”
You kissed your way down his neck, licking at the warm skin over his collarbone just to feel him shudder beneath you.
Then you said, soft and teasing, “Let me take care of you.”
Megumi froze.
“What do you mean?” he asked cautiously, like he already knew but didn’t dare believe it.
You smiled against his chest, hands drifting lower. “I mean I want to make you feel good. Just you. Just let me.”
His entire body stiffened under yours, and for a second, you thought he might say no—not because he didn’t want it, but because he was too shy to accept it.
But when you slid down his body, settling between his legs and dragging your nails lightly over his thighs, he made a strangled sound and threw his arm over his eyes.
Oh.
Oh, he was that flustered.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You really don’t have to—”
“I want to,” you said firmly, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his sweats. “You take such good care of me, Megumi. Let me return the favor.”
He groaned, arm still shielding his face, but he lifted his hips so you could pull the sweats down. You kissed the soft skin just above his pelvis as you peeled away his boxers, revealing his cock—already hard, flushed, leaking.
He was beautiful.
Thick, twitching in anticipation, his stomach muscles tight and trembling.
You looked up.
He still hadn’t moved his arm. “Megs,” you said gently, “look at me.”
He peeked from under his elbow, face flushed deep pink.
“Relax,” you said with a soft smile. “Just feel.”
And then you leaned forward and gave the head of his cock the softest, slowest lick.
Megumi jerked like you’d electrocuted him.
“Sh-shit—!”
You hummed, tongue teasing the sensitive underside, your hand stroking his shaft slowly. He was already panting, one hand fisting the sheets, the other hovering awkwardly in the air—like he didn’t know what to do with himself.
So you reached up and laced your fingers with his.
That made him gasp even harder than your mouth did.
When you took him deeper—slowly, carefully—his head dropped back against the pillow.
“Fuck, fuck, baby—”
He sounded wrecked. Like the combination of your mouth and your affection was too much.
You bobbed your head in slow, steady rhythm, taking him as deep as you could, letting your tongue flatten along the underside with every stroke.
His hips twitched upward and he groaned—embarrassed by his own need. “I—fuck, I can’t last if you—if you keep doing that, it feels—”
You pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at him, lips slick, eyes warm.
“You can come in my mouth, Megumi.”
He whimpered. Straight-up whimpered.
Then: “You’re going to kill me.”
You smiled and went back down.
His hands gripped the sheets. His thighs trembled under your palms. He tried so hard to stay still, to keep from thrusting up into your throat—but he couldn’t help it, not with the way your tongue licked just under the head, not when you moaned around him like you loved the taste of him.
You felt it when he got close—his stomach tightening, his hand scrambling to warn you.
“I’m—fuck—baby I’m gonna—”
You sucked harder.
And he broke.
He came with a gasping moan, hips twitching, mouth falling open in silent bliss as you swallowed everything he gave you. He was shaking when you finally pulled off, pressing a soft kiss to his hip.
He blinked down at you, dazed and pink and completely undone.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “You’re unreal.”
You crawled up beside him and nuzzled into his chest.
And in the quiet after, as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair, you heard him murmur—barely loud enough to catch:
“I don’t think I’ve ever been taken apart like that.”
you call another guy hot and now naoya’s a pussy drunk loser who humps your mattress and asks if he’s better <3
you say it without thinking. something about the guy from your orgo class. maybe it’s the slope of his shoulders, or the way he leans in when he talks. maybe it’s nothing. just a throwaway comparison muttered into naoya’s collarbone when you’re bored and undressing him. you say, he kinda reminded me of you, which is to say: he was your type before you decided naoya was. his reaction is subtle—at first. he doesn’t snap, doesn’t bite. just pauses for a second longer than usual, his shirt halfway off, expression unreadable in the dim light of your bedroom.
"mm?" he hums. too light. too casual. "you’ve got shit taste, then. unless you’re saying i’m hotter."
you give a slow blink. "i’m saying you’re replaceable."
he barks a laugh. walks you backward like it’s a game he’s already won. "that right? so why’s it me you keep crawling back to?" his mouth twitches, not quite smiling. "bet he doesn't even know how to get you wet."
you roll your eyes. “you think you do?” you hum. shrug. careless. and that’s what does it.
he watches you closely. too closely. still smiling. you scoff, turning your back on him, reaching for your water like the conversation is over. but the shift is there. it’s in the silence. in the way his hands find your hips again, possessive in that familiar, infuriating way. in the way his mouth finds your throat like he needs to mark it before someone else does.
he pushes you back onto the bed like he’s correcting a posture. climbs between your thighs, drags them open with his forearms, eyes already darker than before. “take your panties off,” he says, and you do, watching him closely now. something’s off. not anger—urgency. he’s breathing heavier than he should be.
old naoya would’ve fucked you first. very little foreplay, quick, selfish, hard thrusts and smug satisfaction. old naoya didn’t eat pussy. not unless he was drunk. not unless he was bored. not unless it was a power play.
but this naoya, right now in this moment, drops to his knees. it’s abrupt enough to make you blink. he doesn’t even look up when he presses his mouth to you. just exhales, long and shaky, like he’s bracing himself, and then he’s licking—slow at first, almost reverent. tongue flattening, dragging up through you like he’s searching for something. his hands grip your thighs tight, thumbs digging in, holding you open like he’s afraid you’ll close.
"bet he’s never even seen it up close,” he mutters, lips brushing your clit, “let alone made it drip like this.”
you blink down at him, startled by the suddenness of it—by the sincerity behind the insult. but you don’t say anything. don’t give him the satisfaction. which only seems to spur him on.
he eats you like he’s trying to overwrite a memory. tongue working faster now, deeper, messy, chin already slick. he alternates between long strokes and sharp little flicks that make your thighs twitch, like he’s watching your reactions and adjusting on the fly. learning. adapting. trying to be better. every sound you make pulls a response out of him—another groan, another desperate lap, fingers flexing like he doesn’t know where to put them.
“say i’m better,” he pants, licking fast now. sloppily. like it’s for something. “say he couldn’t make you cum like this.”
you give him nothing. he whines into your cunt like a kicked dog.
you grind against his mouth and call him a good boy just to be cruel. it rolls off your tongue like an insult. and the moment you say it, something short-circuits.
his breath catches. his body stiffens. hips pressing down into the mattress like a reflex, like shame isn’t enough to stop it. he’s panting now, face still buried in your cunt, his cock rutting desperately into the sheets, leaking thick into his boxers without a single touch. he’s so quiet about it, it almost doesn’t register. no pride. just a stuttered gasp and a full-body twitch as he cums like he’s never done it before.
you feel it happen. feel it in the tremble of his shoulders. the humiliating warmth blooming beneath your thigh. the pathetic little moan that slips out when you curl your fingers into his hair and push his mouth back down like you’re rewarding a dog for a trick he finally learned. his lips twitch. his jaw goes slack. but he doesn’t stop you. doesn’t even flinch. just breathes through it, swallowing the taste of you like penance.
he doesn’t move. not even after it’s over. he stays between your legs, forehead pressed to your skin, mouth sticky, eyes unfocused. thighs still twitching like the pleasure’s short-circuited something in him. you shift your weight, expecting him to rise. he doesn’t. his breath comes in soft, shaky pulls, like he’s still catching up to the reality of what just happened.
then, finally—quietly, like it shames him to say it out loud—he speaks. “…fuck,” he whispers. “what the fuck is wrong with me.”
you don’t answer. he wouldn’t believe you if you told him.
✧˖° 18+ | Suguru being so sweet when you can only handle half his cock
Suguru is so patient with his sweet, shy girlfriend who still can't take all of him even after a few times together.
every single time, without fail, your small hands end up pressed flat against his abs, keeping him from sinking in all the way. and he never pushes it—just watches you with those dark, half-lidded eyes while you're already making such a mess on just half his cock, whimpering and clenching around him like you're trying so hard to be good for him.
"that's it, baby," he murmurs, one big hand covering both of yours on his stomach, holding them there. "take what you can. don't hurt yourself." but his voice is strained, jaw tight, because fuck—you're so wet and tight and he can feel you fluttering around him, and he wants nothing more than to just sink in deep and stay there.
you're babbling apologies, face hot with embarrassment because you can see how much of him is still outside, glistening and dripping with you. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, 'm trying—"
"shh, none of that," he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, so sweet it makes your chest ache. "you're doing so well, angel. look how good you're taking me already." his thumb finds your clit and you gasp, back arching, and he groans when you clench down hard. "there you go. just like that."
he starts moving in shallow thrusts, just working the half he can fit, and it's already so much—the stretch, the fullness, the way his tip keeps hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. you're soaking him, obscene wet sounds filling the room, and you want to die from how embarrassing it is.
"listen to that," he breathes, eyes dark and focused on where you're connected. "making such a pretty mess on my cock, baby. getting me all wet." his hand slides from your clit to your hip, gripping tight. "think you can take a little more for me? just a little?"
you nod frantically even though you're not sure, because you want to be good for him, want to give him everything. he pushes in another inch, slow and careful, watching your face the whole time. your hands scrabble against his abs but he's stronger, holding himself there while you adjust.
"breathe, sweetheart," he coaxes. "that's my girl. so fucking tight for me. you're perfect, you know that?"
and even though you still can't take all of him, even though your hands are still trying to keep him from going too deep, he looks at you like you've given him everything—like you're everything—and somehow that makes the embarrassment worth it.
tsukishima kei knows he's big and is soooo cocky and sarcastic about it
｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ
tw + tags ;; nsfw minors dni. vaginal, breeding kink, size kink, past relationships mentioned, degradation, overstimulation & dacryphilia mentioned.
his cock pierces into your sopping hole at a delirious rate. your faces is nestled between his pillows, while your ass is up and he rams into you repeatedly. your worn body shakes which each powerful thrust, and your ass bounces around his base.
the sheets are balled up in your fists, as you cry into the pillow due to deliciously painful stretch your pussy has to constantly endure. it stung so bad yet simultaneously, you never want it to stop. your boyfriend is so long, you don't know how to cope with it — all you can do is lay there and pray.
"why are you acting like some virgin schoolgirl?" you can virtually hear the eyeroll as he speaks. although, his steady pace doesn't falter, and he moves a hand to cradle your calf that was tensing and jerking around in the air. he strokes your leg, all the way to your ankle where he sees your toes are curled firmly. "what? never taken big dick before?"
he laughs, but it's not clear what he finds amusing: the notion of you being inexperienced sexually, or the fact you are too cock-drunk to reply to his sarcastic remarks properly. usually you're quite quick-witted, but now you've devolved into a overstimulated mess who is barely able to stagger out the breathiest of moans.
however, it's made evident that he is entertained by his previous suggestion, when he elaborates scornfully, "god, your ex must've been such a fuckin' loser." he snickers again, pushing his glasses up his nose.
not that you're able to see, you're too busy being plowed into the mattress by his merciless length. his faint veins were rubbing against the most sensitive parts inside you, and it's like he's trying to break something within you each time his tip thumps against your cervix. "kei! i ca— nngh, i can't! stop, 'm too close.."
" 'you can't stop' stop what? you're not doing anything, sweetie." his voice drips with honeyed mockery. it irritates you when he tries to be clever and purposefully misinterprets what you say. but his length is clogging up your walls so well that you can't bring yourself to care. "just keep doing what you do best. hah—" he heaves, hastily clearing his throat, "being pretty n' tight. too fuckin' tight." that's generally considered a compliment but the way he says it makes it sound like a slur.
"shit, you're not made for this.." he curses at you, hips slamming into yours at full-force, watching intently as your doting cunt is swallows him up. "stick to clit stuff cos this is just— ah—" he choked on his own words, only able to be sarcastic for so long before his climax gets the better of him.
his lips seel together and his eyes screw shut as he breathes his way through his high, still weakily thrusting into your poor cunt but with significtantly less vigour. each movement was more sloppy and desperate as he fills up your snug hole.
the entire time his hand is on your leg, caressing your calf, and the other is idly toying with your clit. "shit." is all the can think to utter. this is not what he intended. you were supposed to be the one who was so split in half on his dick that you finish in like three minutes. but instead, he was the first to climax. disastrous execution of his fantasy.
"aren't you going to pull out?" you groan, weary hole pleading for solace.
"no. we're going to do this again and again until you're used to me, so you stop crying every time you take it." he tuts, harsh word contrasting with the affectionate way he massages your folds, "get comfortable. it'll take a while."
"hm, you don't like it when i cry? i thought you were into."
"why would i enjoy seeing you cry? you know i love you, dumbass." he squeezes your ass harshly, smirking when you jolt in reaction. "which is exactly why you need to stop crying like a little bitch."
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It was always difficult to get time alone with Rin nowadays. Practice or games took up most of his time, and when he did have time, it was spent working out or catching up on rest. You, of course, were busy with your own life and school work. The time you guys got together was few and far between… and it was never for long.
Rin’s team had an important match today. He was, to say the least, nervous. Mostly just him getting in his own head, an internal need to be with someone. someone who could calm him down. So he sent you a quick text, asking you to stop by the locker room right before the game.
You showed up immediately, leaning on the wall, waiting just outside for him. wearing one of the spare jerseys he had given you. He came out wearing his uniform and gear, a neutral expression written over his face. “You look good,” he nodded, taking a step closer, but there was still a small distance between the two of you. You tilted your head. The way he acted and moved, you could tell there was underlying nervousness. “Did something happen…? You seem on edge.” You questioned softly, closing the distance by taking your own step forward.
He ran a hand through the side of his hair, his eyes stayed on you as they always did. “Was just missing you.” he shrugged it off, taking another step forward to bring his hand around your waist. He tugged you closer, tilting his head to the side, “Maybe a… good luck kiss?” he suggested.
You smiled, pushing forward to set a quick peck on his lips. His eyes shut at the feeling of your lips on his. He barely opened them back up, chasing your lips when you pulled away faster than he wanted you to. “Feelings the luck yet?” you asked with an amused little grin. He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze running over your face as he shrugged, “Might need a little more,” he whispered.
You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning back in for another kiss. this time, one that you let linger, and one that he did not want to pull away from. When he did, reluctantly, pull away, he let his head fall to your shoulder. His hands encircle your waist a bit tighter. “You look really good in my clothes…” he murmured.
Your fingers drew little circles on the back of his neck. “You're going to do great, I'll even cheer extra loud for you.” He pulled away when he heard his coach calling, taking a small step back and letting his hands fall to his side. “I believe you,” he nodded, turning to leave. feeling much better to head out onto that field.
a/n — Two posts in two days, what a miracle!
@k4rinaviiz please do not repost, translate or copy my work. all my work is originally mine.
rin has absolutely no idea how to ask if he can hold your hand like a normal person.
of course, there were a number of routes available for him to take, but trekking into unknown romantic territory wasn't exactly his strong suit. he could just simply latch onto your hand—but what if you don't want to hold hands and were stuck with it? personally, rin hates unnecessary physical contact from people he doesn't like, so he'd be an absolute hypocrite to force his hand into your own like that. or, even worse, you could pull your hand away from his own after he makes the first move. that would be—god, terribly embarrassing. rin's getting antsy just thinking about it.
outright asking for permission seemed stupid. or, in better words, lukewarm, because who does that? just thinking about saying the words 'can i hold your hand?' made his eye twitch. he shouldn't be freaking out this much over something so small, but the overwhelming urge to simply hold you is persistent and annoying.
he glances over at you, watching the way the light of the movie being played on the big screen in front of the two of you illuminates your face in a fiery glow. you must sense his stare, because your turn your head rin's way and send him a thousand watt smile that nearly sends him into cardiac arrest.
"liking the movie, rinnie?" you question softly, grabbing the soda that had been resting on the arm rest between you two—his soda—before your lips wrap around the straw and take a small sip. rin tries to ignore the alarms blaring in his head telling him you had technically (and very indirectly) just kissed him by putting your lips on the same straw his mouth had been on—but he thinks that might be an off putting thing to say.
"it's fine."
you frown at that, leaning a little closer to whisper in his ear and to not disturb the on-lookers of the movie around you two
"i thought this was a re-run of your favorite movie? is it boring because you know what happens now? i mean, i kinda get it—you can anticipate all the jump scares and you know who dies and when they die and who doesn't die. of course there's also the—"
"no, i just—sorry, i have to use the restroom," he all but manages to wheeze out, not bothering to wait for your response before his longer limbs are scrambling out of his seat and walking through the row of movie watchers hurriedly. the moment he's out of the theater, rin takes a steadying breath before pressing the back of his hand to his eyes and beginning his walk of shame to the men's room.
god, he's so stupid. he cannot believe he's freaking out this much. the gentle aroma of your perfume and the feeling of your shoulder brushing against his own made rin want to turn towards you and plant his mouth right onto your own—and the mere thought has him shivering, because rin has never wanted to kiss someone before. like, ever. and yet here you were, playing him like some sort of a puppeteer.
he splashes his face with cold water in the sink, stares at his reflection for an entire three minutes as he contemplates his life choices all before he exits the restroom and makes a swift return to the theater. he was going to go in there, and he was going to hold your hand. he had also decided if you so much as tried to pull your hand out of his own, he would simply kill himself on the spot.
he enters through the theater's double doors and quickly finds his spot beside you. you shoot him a glance and a small wave as your mouth was filled with popcorn, and he nods his head in a silent greeting. once rin is settled into his seat, he exhales quietly through his nose.
it was now or never.
he'd washed his hands three times while he was in the bathroom to ensure there was no sticky candy residue left on them from the snack bag you'd offered him at the start of the movie, so he knows there's no excuse to stop now. his plan was to count down from five, before slipping his hand over the back of your palm and intertwining his fingers with your own. alright—
five...
four...
three...
two...
one...
... shit. he's too nervous.
his eyes fly open, and his lips twitch downwards, but before the wave of disappointment can even crash over him, rin feels something soft on his shoulder.
oh. you're resting your head against him.
"is this okay?" you whisper, but before rin can even begin to have a mental breakdown over this new development, you slip your hand into his within the blink of an eye and brush a thumb over the back of his hand
"this movie is kinda scary, i'd feel better if i held your hand." you admit with a light laugh, breathing in rin's cologne and smiling at the scent. he smelled really nice—
"thank you for holding my hand." rin blurts out loud, and his eyes seem to widen with realization and absolute mortification once he realizes he'd spoken out so noisily in the middle of a very intense scene in the movie—and he wants to sink into his seat and disappear forever as he watches a handful of heads turn towards him through his peripheral vision.
you've also gone quiet before him, you've lifted your head off of his shoulder, and your hand is limp in his grasp—did he really just screw everything up?
you laugh quietly, moving to rest your head back against his shoulder as rin bites the inside of his cheek. you give his hand a gentle squeeze, and he's finally able to relax a little since the start of this whole date.
you hold his hand for the rest of the movie, and by the time the lights have gone from being off to being dimmed—you're stretching your limbs with a pleased smile on your face
"that was such a good movie! but rin, could you tell me what you were thanking me earlier for?" you question with a easygoing laugh as rin huffs quietly under his breath. everyone else around you is chattering noisily now that the movie has ended, and they're preoccupied with packing up to leave—so, rin decides he'll be honest since the only listener is you.
"it felt nice. sorry i didn't hold your hand earlier—i was... i didn't know how to ask. it's stupid, but i didn't want to touch you without asking. i don't usually like physical contact, but with you..."
you cock your head with a grin, reaching out to hold his hand once again. but this time, you lean forward and press a gentle kiss onto the tip of his nose. rin blushes furiously, looking away with a huff, but his hands eventually settle on your waist and pull you just a little bit closer
"rin, since we've been dating for almost a month now, you know you can hold my hand whenever you'd like to, right?"
The rain had stopped hours ago but the pavement still glistened like glass under the streetlights. Somewhere behind her laughter and music continued to spill out from the apartment where the party was winding down— the sound is muffled now and distant, the kind of sound that fades faster than the feeling it leaves. That feeling still heavy in the ears.
(Name) walks ahead with her arms crossed, the night humid and heavy as her (really his) jacket practically swallows her frame. The only things filling the quiet of the streets are the sirens, the soft rhythm of her heels on the wet concrete and the faint hum of a vending machine outside the convenience store on the corner.
Rin follows a few steps behind. His pace is steady, not really rushed at all as he stares a hole in the back of her.
“(Name).” he asks finally, his voice low as it carries through the air. She doesn’t answer, of course. Why would she?
The neon from the FamilyMart sign glows pale green against his face when he catches up— it’s the kind of light that makes him look softer than he’d ever admit to being. He studies her, his expression unreadable and jaw tight as he holds her upper arm. “If you’re upset, just say it.”
(Name) shakes her head, fingers tightening on her sleeve. The rain left the air damp, and right now she really wished she’d brought her umbrella. He shifts his weight, letting go of her arm to shove his hands deep in his pockets and his eyes dart briefly toward the store.
She doesn’t look at him— or at least tries her best not to. She does manage to steal a peek of him. The faint sound of the refrigerator units hum through the store glass and she focuses on it. It’s something steady, mechanical.. unfeeling? Unlike her chest, which feels small and aching.
Rin sighs, “You’re ridiculous,” he says, softer now. “You shut down and leave me trying to guess what I did wrong.”
She looks up at him just this once. The lights catch on his lashes.. on the faint wet shine of his hair from the drizzle that’s started again. Pretty.. ugh.
A car passes sending ripples through the puddles at her feet. He looks away for a moment, then back at her again. “Let’s get something hot,” he says, nodding toward the store. “And you out of this rain.”
(Name) hesitates but when he opens the door, she follows. The cool of the store hits her skin, carrying the faint scent of coffee and oden broth. A fluorescent hum replaces the quiet of the street and Rin walks to a nearby drink cooler, his reflection fractured in the glass.
He takes a canned coffee for himself and a melon soda for her. “Get a basket,” he says directs quietly, “And whatever you want.”
Despite her stubbornness, she grabs a basket anyway. The metal handle cold in her hand as she starts looking down the aisles for her favorite treats. Rin exhales and his shoulders ease the smallest bit as he watches her— and for a moment neither of them say a word.
itoshi rin cried the first time he slipped his dick inside you. it was too much, too perfect. his abs tensed as soon as his tip was grinding your walls, and a few tears ran down his eyes. when it was finally all inside, he gasped. your warm walls were clenching around him and his hands made your thighs spread wider, needing more. “you’re perfect” he mutters, glossy eyes and parted lips as he pushes his cock into you again.
itoshi sae almost faints because of how good he felt having you around his cock. you were whining — “so big, sae” — and moaning — “fffuck—! yes, baby” loudly, and that was making very difficult for him to keep a slow pace. his cock grazed against your sweet spot, trying his best to be gentle and enjoy the moment. but your walls clenched around him, sucking him in like you wanted him to live being inside you. and that made the great nonchalant itoshi sae snap. rough, messy and sloppy. even he thought it was pathetic how pussywhipped he is, that it was disgusting how nasty your sex was being — but he was too busy groaning against your lips.
shidou ryusei went feral the first time he fucked you. when his dick reached your cervix for the first time — your moans and whines suppressed by how hard you were biting his shoulder —, he felt better than any soccer award could’ve ever made him. he started slamming his hips against yours harshly, his fingers were digging into your hips to ground himself. “pussy so good, baby. gonna be inside f’ever” he groans.
mutual masturbation with rin but you're still pressing against each other, your thighs straddling his own, right below his lap.
"fuck-" he pants out, his head falling back and hitting the headboard. "let me... let me touch you, please."
his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, his reddened tip dribbling with another burst of precum. it feels like every fiber of his being is aching to feel you against him—to have your touch be the one giving him pleasure. instead, his other hand fists the silk sheets, fighting the urge to reach out.
it's practically torture. to have you so close but just not close enough. when he can feel the heat and your wetness on his skin, the shift of your hips as you try not to grind against him. when his cockhead brushes against your stomach and you both jump at the intensity of the brief contact.
"no." your voice is shaky, chest heaving as you get closer and closer to the edge. "n-not yet."
his usually bright eyes are clouded with desire, a dark storm brewing in that ocean green, half lidded and watching your every move. you always look so beautiful like this. eyebrows furrowed in concentration, beads of sweat licking at your hairline, tongue darting out to wet your parted lips, chest heaving. a masterpiece.
"baby-"
"wanna cum like this, rin. please." heavy tears of frustration pool in your eyes, gathering in your lashes and making them practically sparkle. all rin can do is swallow any complaints and nod.
"curl your fingers," he instructs, his balls tightening at the moan you let out as you brush against that spongy spot. "imagine it's me. my fingers in that tight, little pussy. you remember how i touch you, don't you?"
you break your own rule, your hand reaching out to steady yourself on rin's shoulder. the sharp sensation of your nails digging into his flesh makes him hiss, his cock throbbing in response.
"fuck yeah, that's it, baby." he encourages you, trying to focus on giving you the pleasure you're so desperately trying to give yourself. "make yourself cum for me."
watching you tumble over the edge is more than enough to make rin climax. there's a mess between both of you, both of your fluids sticking to your skins as you collapse on top of your boyfriend. finally unable to fight the need for physical contact, his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush.
moments pass as you both fill your lungs with air, enjoying the proximity of the other. but rin breaks the silence first.
"we're not doing that again." he mutters into your neck, his breath tickling your sensitive and sweat covered skin. "i don't like not being able to touch you."
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he’s sooo whiny. you’re still panting after your ecstasy when you glance at him — arms still wrapped around your thighs and head resting on one of then. you caress his soft hair gently, running your nails through it.
he looks at you as if you were the only god he believed in, and he peppers kisses on your skin as you recomposes yourself. “can i ask you something?” he whispers, and after you nod, he speaks again. “let me make you come again. wanna make you feel good” you let out a chuckle and cup his jaw. “you don’t have to, sweetheart. it’s your birthday”
“i know — but i want to” his green pleading eyes get under your skin, and you grab his jaw to kiss him softly. “you’re such a good boy” you murmur against his lips, and his eyes glimmer. “go ahead, baby” you lean back onto the mattress again, head on the pillow as your eyes lock with his. “anything to make you feel good” his voice shakes with needs and he nods eagerly, his shaky hands on your plushy thighs tightening their grip while he looks at you with pure devotion. rin leans in, pressing a soft kiss against your core before his tongue slowly, teasingly, flicks out to taste you — just a soft graze, but enough to make your breath catch at your throat. “you taste so sweet”
he takes his time, tasting you like you’re a delicacy only meant for him. he wants to make it last, he could drown between your thighs. his tongue swirls, slow and steady, quickening just at the right moments. “please, cum for me. give it to me, please” he whines against your core, letting out a shaky breath with barely contained desire. “don’t rush, baby” you whisper, caressing his soft locks, and he nods, tongue resuming with its sensual and gentle rhythm. he laps your swollen clit, making circles on it with his tongue, and he smiles when he feels your thighs twitching. “am i making you feel good?” he says softly, kissing your bud. “so good, rin” you moan, arching your back off the mattress. “lemme add a finger, i can make you feel even better. i need you to come undone, please” you look at his adoring eyes and you smile, “sure”. he eagerly dives back down to your pussy, sucking on your clit. the heat of his tongue against your core’s is almost too much for him, and his fingers run over your slit. he pushes one into you, and he moans against your bud because of the feeling of your warm walls clinging to him.
you arch your back, teeth digging into your lower lip as he starts licking more eagerly, adding a second finger and dragging them into your sticky cunt. rin is completely intoxicated by the taste of you. lost in giving you all the pleasure you deserve. “ssshit, rin— ‘s too much!” you whine, thighs twitching as your hips rock against his mouth. “please, please—” tears start running down his ocean eyes, fingers curling and reaching that sweet spot only he knows. “give it to me, please. give it to me, baby. i need it” he whines, and your chest raises and falls quicker. the tight knot in your lower stomach finally explodes, your ecstasy spilling into his mouth and fingers, staining the sheets beneath you. he moans and devours every drop, not wasting anything. “thank you so much, sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your inner thighs as he licks his fingers. you smile softly, cupping his cheeks “happy birthday, rinnie”
here’s alr sep 9 sooo happy bday to my handsome emo boy 🫶🏻 reblogs are appreciated. masterlist / taglist
he would tuck stray strands of hair behind your ear with all the care in the world, just to see your pretty face. running his fingers through it was one of his favourite things, especially when you fell asleep on his chest after a while. even he would offer to wash it when you showered together, massaging your scalp deliciously and trying ridiculous hairstyles that made you laugh.
so when tetsuro saw you a week after you broke up — something inside him twitched. you went to his place to pick up the last of your things, and while you moved quietly around his penthouse, he couldn’t help but stare at you. what used to be a long mane is now a short cut that barely reaches your shoulders. he cleared his throat before speaking — unsure if he should — “you cut your hair” he says softly, helping you pack. you glance at him briefly, and put the last thing on the bag before slung it over your shoulders. “yeah, it kept too many memories i didn’t want anymore” you say, unable to look at him in the eyes. he gulps, a second of silence. two. three. “do you want me to help you with the bags?” he asks, hands in his pockets, not sure what to do with them. you shake your head and smile politely — even if you know he can read you, knowing that he knows that smile isn’t genuine — “that won’t be necessary, tetsuro. thank you”
he opens the door for you and watches you leave, holding on to every cherished memory you were so desperate to let go.
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