sai

Cums in your conditioner bottle. He loves knowing that you wear him with you every day, that when people brush against you and inhale your sweet scent, they’re also smelling him. Satoru likes to think that it sends, on a cellular level perhaps, a message telling them you’re taken, by him. 

Intent on keeping this a secret, he does the grocery shopping every time you let him know you’re running out. Unscrewing the bottle, he places the head of his cock into the hole just as he’s about to reach his peak, jerking his long and pink cock off as fast as he can, biting his bottom lip to keep from making a noise that might alert you to the depravity that’s going on in the bathroom. 

Then, once he’s spilled his seed, he screws the lid back on and shakes vigorously to ensure it’s all mixed in properly and that every pump will have his cum in it. Satoru counts the hours until you excuse yourself to the bathroom and waits, in anticipation and with a leaky cock, for you to emerge all fresh and brand spanking new.

He’s never once told anyone else this, and he himself does not understand why he feels the urge to be so perverted. Sometimes he wonders how you’d react if he told you. Would you get mad? Make him stop? Or maybe you’d find it hot or adorable?

Whatever it’ll be, Satoru’s not eager to find out anytime soon. So, he continues his routine, smiles when you get a compliment on your hair, and frowns when you say you want to stop using hair conditioner and wear a hair mask instead.

What the heck is a hair mask?

Geto

Takes advantage of your sleeping form. It started off completely innocent. He just liked watching the faces you make: your brows furrow when you’re having a nightmare, your bottom lip quivers when you exhale just a little too hard, and you sometimes smile when you’re having a dream he can only hope involves him. 

But then, the urge to do something darker, something secretive overwhelmed him. At night, you’re completely vulnerable. He loves pushing what he can get away with. He’ll manoeuvre your body into positions he likes — arms wide open so he can see your breasts press against the thin confines of your tank top, nipples hard and poking through; legs spread and feet together in a butterfly position so he can see your panties tight against your pussy lips, the imprints defined and he can run his finger down the seam, pressing harder where your clit is just to hear your gasp; and keeping your body still so he can pull the neckline of your tank top down, baring your beautiful tits to the night air and wrap them around his cock.

He juts between the valley, tip knocking into your chin and leaving a wet trail that breaks off as he pulls back just to thrust forward again. Careful not to thrust too hard, lest the bed creaks and you're jostled awake, he uses the immorality of his act to get himself going, knowing that you're vulnerable to his ministrations. But Suguru isn't a bad boyfriend, so he leans back and presses hard against your pussy, rubbing you to an orgasm only your sleeping form can appreciate.

Ever the gentleman, he cums into a tissue and not into your mouth, and only then can he fall asleep beside you. Then, in the morning, he shrugs when you wonder why you're always soaked in the morning. Must have had a wet dream, he says.

Choso

Takes your dirty panties with him for moral support. You don’t know he does this and he’d very much like to keep it that way in case you chalk it up to him being a curse and not knowing what's right and wrong. He knows it's wrong. The truth is, he just really really likes you. Loves you, in fact. So, he sneakily steals a panty or two from the laundry basket and stuffs them in his pockets. 

There’s just something about being able to carry you with him whenever he goes. Whether, it’s whilst he’s in the car, sparring, or on a mission. He can take a piece of you out and inhale your scent, bask in your sweetness, and memorise every part of you to heart. 

Of course, his intentions aren’t entirely romantic and pure. He also really likes to jerk off with your used panties wrapped around his cock. It’s shameful and embarrassing and so depraved, he knows that, but that’s precisely what gets him going. Knowing you’d be shocked bye the extent of his adoration for you makes him thrust faster. He imagines you watching, with that saccharine sweet voice, telling him to show you just how much he loves you. And he never wants to disappoint you, so in the car, parked somewhere dark, he presses the cold, wet spot of the gusset to his nose and takes a long and deep inhale. 

The car shakes with the ferocity of his jerking. One hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white and the other holding your panties to his cock head, connecting his tip to where you were and imagining that it’s your pussy wrapped around him. The scent, the wetness, the wrongness of it all makes him cum harder than he should. And just in time to pick you up too. This way when he gets to have the real thing with you, he’ll last longer. 

Toji

Pisses you off on purpose. Can’t blame him. You’re so fucking adorable when you’re mad. Seriously. You make this pouting face when you think whatever excuse he’s giving you is complete and utter bullshit, which it is. Then, you’ll cross your arms, pushing those bouncy tits up, foot tapping and accentuating your long legs. Stomping around and yelling as if you know what you’re doing. You should know by now that raising your voice only gets him hard. And damn, when you smack his chest to get his attention, it makes his dick jump in his boxers. 

Leaving the toilet seat up or not using a coaster, all of it irks you and gets him going. Of course, he doesn’t do it often; you’ll goddamn leave him if he did, that’s for sure. So, he saves his little tricks up his sleeve for when he’s really horny. Like now, when he didn’t take the meat out of the freezer to defrost in time for when you came home. You’re talking his ear off about how irresponsible he is, shrugging off your work clothes one by one until you’re left in a white button up and just panties, completely blind to how he’s grinning ear to ear, watching you bend over, showing him the smooth, round fats of your ass. 

God, he loves the infuriated look on your face. You’re fuming. The best part about it all is the angry sex you’re about to have. Maybe you like to get mad at him for the same reason. Maybe you hope, as you walk up to the door of your house, that he’s fucked up something, anything. And who is he to deny you? So, with faux indignation, he grabs you by the throat and hisses for you to shut the fuck up, get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours. Put it to better use than yapping, he says, eyes rolling back at the intensity of your suction.

Nanami

Swaps out your birth control for sugar pills. He knows it’s wrong. God, does he ever. But the temptation is too hard to resist. Kento’s already pushing it with the fact that he convinced you to get on the pill so you can make love with no barrier between you two but he just had to go a step further and make sure that the pill is useless. 

It only started recently. He just wanted to fuck once knowing he could be making you a mommy at any given moment. The thought of you all plump and round with his child drives him crazy. It makes him rut into you with no rhyme or rhythm, just pushing the overflowing cum he’s already pumped in there deeper into your pussy, tutting when they spill out of you. Thumbing the errant drops, he tells you to open up and pushes it down your throat; if his cum won’t go into your womb then it should go into your stomach, right?

The tears in your eyes from the overstimulation makes his cock throb. This one of the very rare moments he ever allows himself to make you cry and he imagines you'll also cry tears of joy when you find out you're pregnant with his child, and again when the baby, a little girl he hopes, is in your arms.

Kento knows he’ll be good to you. He’ll be so good. He’ll massage your swollen feet, waddle you over to the toilet, pulling your panties down for you when you can’t, tending to every craving no matter how odd and no matter at what time. You know he’ll be a good father — he’s sweet, caring, firm when needed, reliable and dependable. So, he reasons that you won’t mind if his seed does take hold. 

You love raw sex just as much as he does, after all. 

Sukuna

Makes you think he’s going to kill you. He has no remorse. The high is incredible. You have a penchant for pissing him off, so when his irritation finally boils over, you see a glint in his eyes and a tick in his jaw that very much tells you one thing: run. 

Of course, he has a soft spot for you so he gives you a head start. He’s a monster, not a man. Every part of him is attune to his surroundings. He knows every inch of the estate and better yet, he knows you. Where you like to hide, where you think he’d think to look, and where your little legs could take you in the short time he gave you. Sukuna could seek you out immediately, but the fun isn’t in the victory. It’s in the conquest. 

Voice loud, he taunts, “I can smell your fear, woman. I can hear your pathetic quivering. I know where you are. And when I find you, I’m going to tear you to pieces.”

For the effect, he even picks up an unnecessary weapon. A stoke or an axe, something that will make a chilling noise as he drags it along the wooden floor or scrape it against the wall, letting you know he’s getting closer and closer. His cock is throbbing in his robes, heavy and swinging, as he takes a deep inhale of the fear permeating the air. It’s salty from the sheer prospect of pain and death, but also sweet because it’s undeniably yours. 

Entering your chambers, he rolls his eyes at how utterly predictable, and foolish, you are. You clear haven’t learnt from any of the stupid horror movies you’ve forced him to watch — hiding under the bed is the worst thing you can do. He reminds you of that when his big hand wraps around your ankle, fondling the frail bone, and tugs. Sukuna rejoices, and leaks cum, at the blood curdling cream you let out. 

You dangle in the air as his monstrous form towers over you. When he sniffs at your pussy and smells the juices you’re leaking out too, he knows you get off on the thrill too, and perhaps, that’s the real reason he loves this so much.

“Chat,” she mutters out, staring deep into your soul, “am I the asshole for wanting my twenty-six F girlfriend to stay at home and serve me because I do all the hard work? Is that not enough to tell you it’s him? And his username is literally his name, (Name). Come on.”

You shut your eyes as she continues, “Personally, I think that women belong at home, no offense. My girlfriend and I have been together since college, got together with her cause she was head over heels for me. Can’t deny the love, and she’s a literal definition of obedient. What I say, she does, and what I tell her, she remembers. She draws for the money, and it’s not going well, told her to give up and she was adamant on continuing that career path. Sucks,” Shko spared you a glance of despise, “Been trying to tell her to let go of that career because it won’t add up to anything. Told her to just stay jome, sit pretty, and serve me because I do all the hard work and she gets butt hurt ver my words and leaves me for a couple days before coming back.”

That’s him.

“I’ve been paying for dates and shit since we started dating, and we’re getting old so I’m thinking of proposing under the term that she stays at home and takes care of everything at home. Her best friend thinks I’m an asshole for that, but I think that it’s the least my girlfriend could do if I were to pay for everything and come home tired. Tell me I’m not the asshole,” the post ends right there and you knew this is a lost cause, that is your boyfriend alright. And you couldn’t deny it anymore, as much as you want to, “he isn’t even asking, he’s implying that he’s not an asshole. That is an asshole behavior.”

You sat there. The dizziness crashing in —remembering the moments where he was actually an asshole throughout your relationship, and you just refused to accept it because you love him. Much more than he loves you, apparently.

3 years ago, during a date in an expensive restaurant, Naoya had compared you to the very beautiful waitress. Apparently, you weren’t ‘fit’ enough to be using the dress you spent so hard to match your shoes and purse. And the steak you ordered was too ‘unhealthy’ for you. You ate only half of the steak that night, and might you say, really good and expensive steak.

2 years ago, you got a big commission from someone in the US to draw a portrait of her dog and her. She was willing to pay you hefty for it, and the moment you retold of the whole thing to Naoya, he laughed; mockery intended. Shutting down your efforts by saying that what you made through that one commission was what he makes in a couple of hours time.

Naoya doesn’t appreciate. He was born a silver spoon, he had everything even before he was born. The expensive toys kids wanted, all he had. The expensive shirts? He had all of them. The ranging bottle of perfumes and colognes in his walk in closet? Every single brand. Shoes? Every model, leather made, light up shoes, everything. All he’s had in life is grand; food? He was fed the most expensive milk as a toddler, tried caviar even before he was legal, and even the most expensive meat is . . . Everyday food to him.

You were surprised that he decided to stay with you.

With someone who had to work for everything unlike him. Then again, the post said it all, you were obedient, you remember everything. That was why he stayed because he expected you to do less. Everything begins clicking into place. Of course he never loves you, he stayed because you don’t fight back —you served him everything on a platter and sit still, “You know what? You’re right, he is a dick.”

“I’ve been saying that from seven years ago,” Shoko tossed her phone aside.

On the first day of college, you had bumped into him while running to your first class. Naoya ‘begrudgingly’ picked up something of yours that you dropped, and you’ve liked him since. On the sixth month, you confessed to him, and you weren’t expecting him to reciprocate at all. But with that cheshire smile, he accepted your feelings, and from that day you were a couple. At least that’s what you thought you are.

“This is going to sound stupid.”

“You’re a doctor, you? Stupid?” You asked her, leaning back onto the couch in distress, “I’m listening.”

Shoko shrugs, “Why don’t you get to know one of my friends? They’re nice people, nicer than that dick, I could assure you that,” the disapproving look from your face caught her off guard, but Shoko parts her lips again, before she slammed her jaw shut, the click of her teeth echoing softly, “listen, Naoya’s expecting you to come back like you always do. And . . . I figured that why not just . . . Fake it until he accepts the fact that you aren’t coming back, that he isn’t everything that he perceives himself to be.”

“Jesus. I won’t be coming back to him, I’m desperate but not that desperate,” you brushed your face in annoyance, “and I’m not looking to date, I haven’t even broke up with Naoya.”

“Yet. You fall for his sweet words all the time,” she scrolls through her phone and turns it over, “this, is Satoru. Gojo Satoru, he’s a middle school physics teacher, has been a teacher for years. He’s twenty-seven, and he plays games on his free time, loves Pokemon and desserts. Usually busy in between playing and grading papers, so you won’t have to worry about him cheating or . . . Fucking around.”

The picture shows a white haired male, he was staring into the camera in an uncanny way —especially with those deep blue eyes of him. His glasses framed his face perfectly, in a way that it made his features look more striking. A light blush coated his cheeks and he was holding a peace sign up. Gojo Satoru, you repeat his name internally.

Then Shoko pans the picture to the next one, “Suguru Geto. Twenty-seven years old. Plays bass and is in an indie band with a couple of friends from uni, they’re starting to make it big. Has a lot of piercings, I don’t know if that’s your type. Long hair. He has a busy schedule, so I’m unsure if you could meet up with him anytime soon . . . Also, he’s a gym rat. Goes to the gym every morning before band practice, he’s laidback,” and then you shifted your gaze back to Shoko.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you tell her.

“One or two?”

“One,” the answer comes out way too quickly and Shoko smirks, “I don’t like that look.”

“I knew you’d choose him. Alright, give me a couple of days. Remember,” Shoko repeats, tapping frantically on her phone, “this is —”

“Satoru,” her hand gestured to the male sitting right across from you, then Shoko looks at you, “(Name).”

This is way more awkward than you expected — 2 weeks had went by since the last time Shoko spoke about her friends. You had taken the time to break up with Naoya, and he took it well. So well that it annoyed you, he spoke with such calmness that he expects you to come back. Annoyingly, he reminded you of the spare key he’s going to leave out in case you wanted to come back to him. To hell with him.

Satoru wore a yellow oversized shirt with a Pokemon motive. You weren’t too keen on following the series, but you recognize the motive as Pikachu, and under it was a white colored long sleeved shirt. It was a simple outfit matched with black jeans, but you went simple with (outfit of your choice) as well.

Thank goodness you didn’t opt for the extravaggant choice.

“Um, hi,” you waved, a nervous smile on your face, “I’m (Name). (Name)(Last Name),” you introduced yourself like a robot —Satoru gazes up towards you before his eyes went back to the strawberry smoothie topped with . . . A mountain of whipped cream and colorful sprinkes. His dull reaction made you awkwardly fiddle with the straw inside your drink.

“Gojo. Gojo Satoru,” he blandly replies.

Shoko grunts under her breath, her chin latched onto the top of your palm, “So,” her chapter opens, “(Name) just broke up with her boyfriend. He made a weird post about her on Reddit, and she needs you to help her ex-boyfriend think that she won’t run back to him —don’t cut me off,” Shoko points her finger at Satoru the moment his jaw ticks, “it’s just for a while, that guy just needs convincing that (Name) won’t come back.”

Satoru shook his head immediately, “Absolutely not. I’m busy with work . . . And, I just broke up, so I’m not looking for something like this.”

“It’s not literal,” Shoko answers quickly, “and since when did you have a girlfriend?”

“Since two years ago. But, not anymore, she cheated on me.”

“What?”

You blew a soft sigh,  “Sho, I don’t think this is a good idea either . . . I’m not . . . In the mood for this kind of thing too,” Shoko puckered her lips gently, “I thought we came here to grab coffee? I didn’t know we were meeting . . . Gojo.”

Satoru nods, “I was told that too.”

“It’s called a hustle, and you wouldn’t even say yes if I told you about the whole plan beforehand,” Satoru mixed the whip cream into the smoothie, “but, I guess it didn’t work out. I’ll leave it as that then, let’s go?” She packed her bags and ushered you.

“Right,” a huff emits from you, “bye, Gojo.”

He replied back with a mere wave.

toji was nearly limp under you, fighting hard to not cum right then and there. but the swivel of your hips was too much. little whines left your kiss-swollen lips, the sounds going straight to his groin. “fuck, the way you sound..” toji’s voice was ten times lower than it usually was, body less tense, black hair a shaggy mess on his head.

“gonna cum in you — can’t hold it.” he groans, fucking his hips up into yours, the slick sound of skin slapping getting louder. his words made your pussy throb, the thought of being filled with him. your best friend. “please, toji. please, i wan—”

before you could finish your plea, his phone lit up with a call beside his hip. barely sparing it a glance, he catches the name on the screen. ‘my love’ with two pink hearts — a contact name she picked out. he hated it.

but instead of ignoring it like he usually did when he was with you, he let go with one hand and picked it up, putting the phone to his ear.

toji was a breathless mess, lids low in a trance-like state of watching your tits bounce in front of him. spilling over the cups of your bra, little bite marks littered your skin from his earlier desperateness.

“yeah?” his husky voice called out. it’s only then you realize he answered the call, a tiny gasp leaving you as your pace faltered. “toji—” a slap to your ass cuts off your whisper.

“babe, where are you?” you hear his girl whine on the other end of the phone.

your bouncing slowed to rocking against him again, his cockhead kissing the front side of your walls deliciously. your forehead drops to his shoulder, your moans in one of his ears and her annoying ass voice in the other.

“i’m out. fuck — i’ll be back later.” he groans when you pick up the pace, chasing your orgasm whether she heard or not. you never liked her anyway — and she damn sure hated you.

“who are you with? what are you doing?” she asks, clear attitude in her tone. “with.. shiu. i gotta — oh, god — go. call you later.”

toji’s eyes roll back in pleasure as he hangs up on her, cutting her next accusing question off.

he tosses the phone mindlessly, hand back on you. “that’s it, baby. just like that—o-ooh.. shit..” he groans, hips erratically rutting up into yours now.

he sends you over the edge with his lips sealed around your tit, squeezing at the other as he drove into you with a frenzied speed. he follows right after, warm spurts of his thick cum flood your cunt. he was so loud too, all types of grunts and curses falling from his lips.

you both ride it out, moving against each other until you slow to a stop. still leaving him lodged deep inside your pussy, he lifts your face up.

looking at you with hazy eyes, his thumb traces and pulls at your bottom lip. “never fucked her raw…” he admits, veiny length still twitching inside you. “pussy’s way better than hers..” toji’s gaze drops back to your mouth, your lips.

“wonder if this throat is better too.”

a/n: first post kinda nervy ><

Roommate!Shoko pats your ass before she goes over to the counter to make coffee. “I’ve always been like this, but I used to have my parents physically dragging me out of bed. Guess I need a special touch.”

It’s gotten so bad that her friend, Gojo, has offered you a lot of money to get her out of the apartment on time. 

And you’re not one to turn down money.

So you devised a plan to capitalise on this. You tried banging pots and pans, leaving ten alarms so that they blare all at once, shaking her, yelling right in her ear — nothing. She will not budge. She will not flinch. 

She will not wake the hell up.

So it’s clear that by ‘special’ she doesn’t mean violence, because you’ve rained attacks on her with her pillow many times and it never did anything but tire you out.

Until, one day, you discovered, by complete accident, that there’s a foolproof way to get her up and alert: orgasms. 

It really was an accident. 

You were trying to wrangle her out of bed, and changed so that when she did wake up, she could rush out of the apartment instead of wasting time trying to pick an outfit. It was thoughtful. Smart. Genius! 

But she never makes anything easy for you. 

Her body fought against your attempts, wanting to cling to the comfortable mattress and stay in the warm comforts of her blanket. In all the wriggling and fighting, your thigh ended up between hers, lodged firmly to the apex. 

You realised too late what was happening; you still fought and fought, and was accidentally grinding your thigh to her pussy. It only became apparent to you what a horrible mistake you had made and what an unfortunate position you were in when her arms locked around your torso to keep you in place as she subconsciously humped your leg. 

Then her body was spasming. She was moaning in your ear, leaving a warm wetness on your skin. 

Within seconds, she was awake and confused as to what you were doing above her, all flustered and aghast. 

You didn’t want to tell her what happened, out of embarrassment. In fact, you vowed to take it to your grave. But the money dropped in your account, with a note that said, thx for working miracles, from The Strongest. And for the first time in months, maybe even years, you were able to splurge. 

So, guilt-ridden and fully prepared to go to jail, you explained. 

Roommate!Shoko hummed, arms and legs crossed. She eyed you through her long lashes before a devious smile pulled at her lips. “So, you molested me in my sleep and woke me up.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” you argued, cringing. “But, yeah, I guess. I promise it was an accident though!”

She cradled your cheek and tenderly pressed a kiss to the other. “It’s alright. I’m actually quite grateful we found a solution to my sleeping problem.”

A beat of silence passed.

“What?”

Casually, she strutted off and jumped on the sofa. She patted the seat next to her as she said, “You want money, I want to wake up on time. Sounds pretty simple to me. Do what you gotta do, and we don’t have to talk about it after. It’ll be our little secret.”

Things spiralled soon after. 

A routine formed. 

Every morning, varying the time based on what she had going on that day, you would sneak into her room, checking she’s asleep. 

Today is no different.

The door opens to your touch. You step in.

Roommate!Shoko lies over her covers, on her stomach, dressed in only her panties and a big T-shirt that belongs to Geto. You sigh. There’s 20 minutes before she has to get to her feet and wash up if she wants to make it on time for a lecture. A med student really cannot afford to be missing any classes and lectures, so you never understood why she doesn’t take care of herself better.

Being the one to make sure she can make good on her promises and graduate with a degree has become your responsibility. The burden is heavy. It’s not like you have nothing going on in your life. 

At this point, however, when you’ve earned thousands and are swimming in money because she’s friends with a rich kid, you can’t complain. 

With a little groan, you flip her on her back. 

Still nothing.

“Jeez, Sho,” you mutter, “I could throw you down a flight of stairs and you’d still be snoring.”

You trail your fingers over her bare thigh, until they skim the hem of her grey Calvin Klein panties. It’s one of your favourites. Maybe she knows that, maybe she doesn’t. Who’s to say if she gets herself into positions that pushes her gorgeous ass out on purpose, if she wears clothes she knows you can’t get enough of?

Parting her legs for her, you hum as you press an indent on her clothed slit. It surprises you every time how squishy her pussy lips are. Her hips jolt. You easily find her clit, rubbing in gentle circles, just the way she likes at first. 

Roommate!Shoko stirs. 

You lie on your stomach on the bed, keeping her legs spread. The mattress drips. The bed frame creaks. Does she wake up? 

Of course not.

Her thighs are smooth and soft; they’re nice to lay on when you’re watching movies together. They’re even nicer to rest your cheek on when you’re up close and personal with her panties. Your nose nudges the cute little bump where her clit is, inhaling her sweet scent.

A wet spot has formed at the gusset — grey panties show it so easily. Giggling a little, you press a kiss to the darker spot. You lick the faint taste of her off your lips. Not even a second later, you’re suckling on the fabric. “Mm, Sho. I can already taste you,” you tell her, even though she can’t hear.

Roommate!Shoko releases a low moan. When you peek up, she’s still asleep. Her lips are parted, her breathing’s steady, eyes closed. Although, you do spot a light dusting of pink on her cheeks and the way her two middle fingers, which rests upon her pillow, twitches.

All good signs.

With 15 minutes left to go, you decide to up the ante; pulling her panties to the side, you’re met with her puffy lips, which have grown shiny with her juices. The heat radiating has you growing dizzy. 

It’s silly really, how you’re more affected than her.

There’s always a mix of feelings inside you every time you do this: guilt because she has no idea exactly what you do to her, excitement because she has no idea that you take the initiative to suck on her clit, and disappointment because she has no idea and cannot return the favour. 

After each time, you send her off or you leave first, you’re always left with an itch you have to scratch, on your own. You’ve wondered many times how nice it would be to have her between your legs, to feel her slender fingers in you and sinful mouth on you. 

Of course, you know this is wrong, that this arrangement isn’t healthy or ethical, but it’s for her own good. It’s simply a bonus that this isn’t much of a sacrifice to make because you’ve always had a fat crush on your smart, witty, sexy as sin roommate, with her slender legs, wide hips, slutty waist, and huge tits. 

Speaking of…

A hand creeps up. You grope one of her breasts over her shirt. Fat pudge between your fingers. Her nipple is hard, poking your palm. You run a blunt nail down the little bud. Her back arches. Like clockwork. 

Roommate!Shoko loves to have her tits played, especially over the top, where the friction and the texture of her shirt adds a special kind of thrill. 

Right on cue, a fresh wave of pussy juices oozes out of her, dripping down the plumpness of her ass. You collect it on the tip of your tongue, then bury it back inside her. Warm, gummy walls clench around the wet appendage. Above you, another moan resounds. It shoots straight through your body. Your own pussy reacts.

Even in her sleep she’s so hot. 

“Don’t worry, Sho,” you chirp. “I’ll have you awake soon.”

You lick a fat stripe up her slit.

Her juices are sweet and tangy, with a distinct taste of her. It’s intoxicating. Her internal heat and your breath creates a humid mix that has your and her clit throbbing seemingly in tandem. You greedily lick as much of her as you can, making sure to flick her cute button on your way up. 

“Mmm.” 

Roommate!Shoko’s shuffling now, writhing slowly. Her breathing’s grown irregular, deeper, face more flushed. One leg wrestles itself from your grip. It throws itself over your shoulder, bending to push your head even closer. Soothing, you brush her heated flesh.

In her sleep, her pelvis rocks up. It’s subconsciously grinding her whole pussy on your face, seeking the tip of your nose to satisfy her needy clit. That’s fine with you — you can shove your tongue inside her pussy and curl it against the rough texture near the entrance in the meantime.

Both of your hands are squeezing and massaging her tits, wanting to hear more sleepy moans and groans from her pretty lips. You could play with them for hours. They’re a work of wonder. She’s always pressing them against your back, your arms, in your face. Sometimes you think she does it on purpose. Perhaps you hope she does.

Lewd sounds are being wrung out by your mouth, which has become an expert in her body by now: squelches, slurrrrps, and the sticking of skin with the messiness of her wetness spreading itself all over your cheeks, chin, her inner thighs.

You look at the alarm clock on her bedside table.

4 minutes. 

How time flies when you’re having fun. 

“Alright, Sho. You’re gonna need to cum for me,” you tell her, slapping the side of her tit to watch it bounce. She gasps. 

Since she hasn’t woken up yet, her bladder’s probably full. And everyone knows the best time to touch yourself is when you need to pee. She’s not an exception. 

You press a hand down on her lower belly as you wrap your swollen lips around her clit. At the same time that you apply pressure, you suuuuckkk! it hard.

Roommate!Shoko’s hips jerk. They threaten to pull away from you. You hold her body down, mercilessly devouring her cunt with increasing hunger. The pulsing of her clit and the clenching of her insides have intensified. She’s close. Really close.

“N-no,” she breathes out. “Nghhh, gonna -hah- gonna…”

She’s throwing her head side to side, eyes shut tight, and low moans turning into louder groans and whines. 

Finally, her body tenses. 

A ferocious climax tears right through her. 

You hold her firmly as she cums, lapping incessantly at the juices overflowing, threatening to stain her bedsheets. Your hips hump the bed, overwhelmed by the tightness of her thighs which clamp around your bed, trying to suffocate you, undecided between wanting to push you away or pull you in. 

There’s barely any stimulation. It’s frustrating. Infuriating. Maddening. Maybe you should try scissoring with her. Would she mind? 

The clock reads that there’s only a minute to spare. Sloppy work.

Knowing that any second now, she’ll be waking up, you give her quick licks around to clean her up. Then you move her panties back into place. Right as the alarm goes off, you’re standing to your feet.

Roommate!Shoko’s eyes flutter open. 

She grips a breast in one hand and her pussy with the other, wanting to calm the aches you’re sure as she’s still feeling the tremors of pleasure in her system.

“Morning, Sho.”

Her eyes dart to you. She lets her body go. If she’s embarrassed she’s been caught grinding into the heel of her palm, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she gives you a lazy smile. “Mmm, hi, gorgeous. You know how I love when you’re the first thing I see in the mornings.”

Even freshly woken up, she’s a flirt. 

Taking her hand, you pull her to a sitting position. She runs a hand through her hair and exhales. “Man, whatever you did, you did really well. I feel so light. Mm, my pussy’s tingling.”

“We don’t talk about it, remember?”

Roommate!Shoko bites her lip, and, with a smirk, raises her arms in surrender. “Of course. My bad.”

Her hands grip your hips. You find your body being used as leverage so that she can get to her feet. You’re chest to chest now. Her hard nipples scrape yours. You fight the urge to moan right in her face. Pelvis to pelvis too; you feel the heat of her pussy through your shorts. You wonder if she feels yours.

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, she purrs, “You always take such good care of me, don’t you, roomie?”

“Anything to afford rent,” you say.

With a yawn, she side steps you to head to her en-suite bathroom. “Don’t I know it? Well, I appreciate you coming into my room everyday to make sure I wake up to my alarm. You go above and beyond. You’re the best. I love you, babe.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You fall to her bed. Partly because your knees are weak, because your pussy’s still throbbing and you need some friction, and partly to hide the wet spot that’s formed on her sheet. 

At the doorway, she pauses. 

Turning her head to look at you, she gives a wry smile. That’s all the warning you get before she’s shrugging her shirt and panties off. You get an eyeful of pale skin and curves you want to take a bite of. 

“Shoko!”

Roommate!Shoko looks at you with innocent, bambi eyes. “What’s wrong? We’re both girls.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you splutter, looking away even though you really want to look. And occasionally looking back, as though you can’t help it. “Where are your manners?”

The girl’s shameless.

Truly, utterly shameless.

A normal person would be ashamed that they have to be eaten out by their roommate to wake up. A normal person wouldn’t be undressing right in front of their roommate. But then again, a normal person wouldn’t be eating their roommate out for money either. 

She rolls her eyes. “My manners?” she repeats. “Where are yours?”

“What’re you talking about?”

Roommate!Shoko runs a finger across her lips and says, “Got a little something there.” 

Face flushing, you hurriedly wipe away her juices from your lips and chin. Oh god, that is humiliating. How long had that been there? Why didn’t she say anything sooner?

She laughs. “You know, you’re allowed to try different methods to wake me up, right?”

“Oh.” A twinge of disappointment hits you. Frowning a little, you ask, “You want me to go back to wafting smelling salts under your nose? That did seem to work for a little bit.”

Roommate!Shoko shakes her head. “No, babes, I’m saying you should let me have something sweet once in a while. Switch it up here and there, y’know? Have some fun for yourself.” With a grin that’s all sorts of bad for your heart rate, she adds, “I don’t bite.”

You gulp.

“Noted.”

Today, you’re not dating. Still very much broken up. According to you. Except it’s hard to believe that when you showed up at his door looking as jaw droppingly beautiful as ever and shoved him aside.

And Sato could never turn you away. The thought didn’t even occur to him.

Since, you’ve been lounging on his bed. 

“Why do all these girls have such huge tits?” you ask, lying on your stomach. 

From his desk, Sato hums. “Do they? I never noticed.”

“Liar,” you immediately scoff. “I bet that’s the exact reason you got this manga, and all the others. I also bet these drawings were your first wank.”

Pen tapping on his textbook, he huffs. “You sound like my brother.” 

His first wank was to Mewto, but he won’t admit that. Why did you even come back here if you hate him so much? Just to drive him crazy with insults, and with that short skirt riding up thighs he knows are softer than marshmallows?

“Well, then you should listen to us both; two people can’t be wrong.”

Sato snorts. “Actually, I think if the two of you agree on something, then you’re both definitely wrong.”

That gets a giggle out of you. He’ll admit that sound has him feeling a sense of victory and pride. 

Tossing the book aside, you clamber off the bed and skip over to him. You hug his head to your chest, cradling the thing between your breasts. He notices. Of course he does. “Wanna get back together, Sato? I’m horny.”

His scrawling stops. 

You aren’t usually this honest, this vulnerable. Sure, he’d much rather you were wanting to get back with him because you were going insane without him, because you realised you can’t live without him, because you missed him and not his dick. But this still feels like a small victory. 

Proceed carefully, he tells himself.

“You broke up with me,” Sato reminds you, slowly as though walking through a minefield. 

“Yeah, and now I want to unbreak up with you. Is that a crazy thought?” You’re raking your acrylic nails on his scalp. His lashes flutter. You always did know just how to weaken his resolve. “My toys died on me, and because of you and your loudmouth twin, no guy will go anywhere near me.”

There’s some truth to that — Toru’s projective of you and of his brother’s heart, and has made it abundantly clear to the scrubs that frequent his parties that his 'future sister-in-law' is a strict 'no-touching zone.'

However, it’s important to note that you could have any man you want, if you set your mind to it, so he doesn’t buy it for a second. Sato’s long learned not to take your words at face value. 

He knows from experience, therefore, that you just regret breaking up with him. If an orgasm was all you wanted, after all, then you would have just shoved his face between your legs, rode his tongue, then gone along on your merry way. Which has happened before. 

It’s tempting. 

Really. 

But it’s rare that you’re the one to break first. And a man ought to make a stand here and there. Maybe the fact that he’s always the one who reaches out first and grovels, even if he didn’t do anything wrong, is why you do this so often. He just can’t miss the opportunity to drag this out. 

So Sato casually replies, “Nah. I’m enjoying the peace and quiet. It helps me study better.”

A moment of silence passes. 

It’s thick.

Your raking nails stop. Your body stills. 

“Oh,” you say. “Okay.”

You’re gathering your stuff and making your way to the door with no further argument, not a second later.

That’s not how he thought that would go.

Where’s the shouting? The slapping his chest and stomping your feet? Where’s the deadly glare, the calling him names that’ll get him hard? The throwing of things, the threatening to kick his monitor screen in, the showing him hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and rejected?

Sato jumps out of his seat faster than the speed of light. He clutches you to him, heart beating so fast he’s sure you can feel it. 

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I miss you, baby. Always miss you when you’re not here. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. I’ll do anything — do you want more clothes? I’ll buy out your baskets again. All of them. J-just anything.”

Thank god he’s hugging you from behind, because if he wasn’t, he’d see the devilish grin warping your face.

This had been Toru’s idea. He told you, if you give Sato any ounce of power, he’d grow arrogant with it, which you can use to your advantage. And judging by the way he’s literally shaking as he holds you, you owe the man a rematch at beer pong.

Forcing a sad tone, you ask, “A-are you sure, Sato? I know I’m always bothering you, but I thought you like when I do. I didn’t realise I was holding you back.”

Inside, he feels something break

“No, baby. No, that’s not it at all.” Sato spins you around, bending down slightly to meet your eyes. His gaze has softened from the usual aloof expression he wears. He looks like he’s in near tears. “You don’t bother me in any way I don’t like. You know I love you.”

Eyes fluttering, you sniffle a little. “Really? Even when I’m always saying mean things?”

Sato pecks your lips. Once. Twice. Third for good luck. And a fourth because he needs his fill after the two day break you two had. 

“Baby, you know I get so hard when you say mean things. To me, to my brother, to everyone. Just never about yourself,” he pleads, cradling your face in his hands. “I love everything about you. I was just being an idiot.”

You grip the hem of his sweater, bringing it up and up so you can rake your nails up his abs. “Yeah, you were, Sato. You really hurt me.” With big doe eyes you meet his gaze. “I should be able to hurt you back, don’t you think?”

In his sweatpants, something stirs. 

So predictable. Like putty in your hands. 

He gulps. Then nods. Greedily. “Y-yeah. That’s fair. Whatever you want.”

In a flurry he can’t process fast enough, he finds himself pushed down onto his bed, sweater ripped right off his body. You straddle his hips. Your skirt has ridden up. Pussy lips through your panties cradling his hard on. 

How does it always end up like this?

As you run a finger down his chest, his breath shudders. “Oh, Sato,” you coo, “why did we ever break up?”

“You said my last name won’t go well with your name if we marry,” he reminds you. “I disagree, but you don’t have to take my name. You know I’m not traditional.”

Oh, yeah, that’s why. A better woman would be ashamed for breaking up with their boyfriend for such a non-issue, but you’re not a better woman, and the reminder nearly has you wanting to ditch him again.  

Sato adjusts his glasses as he peers up at you. When you glower at him, his lips twitch. “You’re so pretty when you’re mad at me. So, so pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. The prettiest.”

You smile. “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”

Underneath you, he throbs, punctuating his point. You bite back a moan — if you get too needy and start dry humping him, you’ll lose your upper hand. Keep your head in the game, you tell yourself. 

Picking up lipstick from your purse, you twist the base slowly. It clicks with every centimetre it emerges. 

Sato’s almost panting, like a bitch in heat. His imagination is running wild, wondering what you’re going to do with that lipstick, where it’s going to go. His hands fall onto your bare thighs, rubbing warmth there but also just wanting to feel you. 

You hold his gaze. 

On his flawless chest, you write:

M

I

N

E

“What does it say, Sato?”

He swallows, hips starting to rut up, chasing the friction. “Mine.”

“Which means?”

“I’m yours. All yours,” he breathes out. Sato’s releasing low moans, which grow louder when you start grinding down on him. He always did love dry humping.

You cup his cheek. You brush your thumb over his flushed skin there, right under the rim of his glasses. Then you slap him. Hard. Hard enough that it leaves a bright, red mark.

Sato’s hips buck. His eyes widen to saucers. “FUCK!” he cries out. 

Those hands that hold your thighs are gripping your hips now, hastily guiding you back and forth his clothed length. You moan, head thrown back. 

“I hate that you didn’t chase after me,” you tell him.

Usually, Sato would spam you with apologies. Usually, you’d ignore them until you got bored, then you'd send him a TikTok. He’d sends one back. And you two act like nothing ever happened. 

This time, he hadn’t. 

He didn’t show up outside your classes with a cup of coffee or a sweet treat. He didn’t text you poorly taken nudes in hopes of enticing you to take him back. Didn’t send flowers to your doors or money or his twin brother with a prepared speech about how men are experiencing a mental health crisis. 

He just didn’t. 

Worry had been weighing you down — what if he got tired of you? What if he finally saw sense and realised you’re not a good girlfriend, you’re not even a good person? What if he found someone better, someone smarter, someone he has shared interest with that extended beyond great bed chem?

Toru reassured you that none of that is possible; his brother eats, sleeps, and breathes you. He’d heard enough about how amazing and incredible you are before you started dating, when he was pining after you, and during, when you started teaching him all sorts of things he never realised about himself. 

None of that reassured you. Nothing could.

Not even the raging boner you’re humping, the lewd groans and moans and whines and whimpers he’s letting out, or the spot of pre wetting his sweatpants. 

Because that’s sex. 

That’s the body talking.

You want that, of course. But you also want his heart. 

“Do you still love me, Sato?” you ask. No bravado. No sass. No faux pout. Just a question. “Like really love me?”

“Yes,” he replies without missing a beat. His brows knit together. He must notice something serious and sad in your eyes; he sits up. “Hey, hey, baby. What’s wrong? Are we not playing anymore?”

Bottom lip quivering, you say, “We’re always playing, Sato. I know I start most of it, and I really can’t talk, but sometimes I wonder if we play too much. If it’s all we do, all we have.”

Teas are springing to your eyes, wetting your false lashes. If he were anyone else, you’d gouge out his eyes so he’d never know you were capable of crying. This nerd, however, has brought you to tears with his tongue, fingers and dick enough times to know you’re just a wet mess waiting to happen.

“Is this what I am to you? Just someone to slap you around, to entertain you between classes, someone to keep for fun?” A little embarrassed, you force a chuckle. “I mean, it’s okay if I am. I know what I look and act like. And I know I’m not someone you take home to father.”

“Mother,” he mutters. Sato wipes an errant tear away, angry at the mere sight of it. “The saying is ‘take home to mother’ and I don’t care if you are or aren’t — our mother’s a bitch. So is our father. All I care about is why you think you’re any less than the love of my life.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Forget it. Just whip your cock out. Imma suck it.”

He ignores that.

In a graceful move, you land on your back, pushed down gently. He hovers above you, casting a shadow. 

Sato’s frowning hard. Really hard. He looks livid. 

“I love you,” he says. Firmly. Unwaveringly. With all the certainty in the world. “I love you. So much. So much so that you’re the first thing I think about.”

He bends his arms to reach your face. You accept his kiss. It’s soft, tender, the kind of kiss that’s all about taking your time to taste and feel. The kind that would have your leg kicking up if you were standing. The one that has your heart racing. Cheeks flushing. Lips tingling. 

Pulling back, he presses a kiss to the pulse point at your neck. He descends to your chest. Sato hooks the neckline down so he can kiss right over your heart. To each breast, he kisses the peaks, nuzzling between them. You moan, hand threading through his hair. He slides the hem up to kiss your belly. 

Every inch of skin he touches tickles, like a current of electricity runs under it.

“I wonder where you are, what you’re doing. If you’ve slept through your alarm. If you’re late to class, if you’re even going. I wonder if you’ve eaten, and what. And I get all restless when I think about you only eating snacks and not getting any real food.”

You can do nothing but watch as Sato flicks your skirt up, revealing your g-string to him. A small smile appears on his pretty face. He continues with his lips grazing your pelvis, “I think about what you’re wearing. If you’re matching your panties to your nails or to your bag. If you’ve gone with a tight skirt because you’re feeling good about how your ass looks, or if you’ve gone for something loose because you’re bloated.”

Wetness readily flows out of you, staining your panties. He notices. Turns out, he notices everything about you. 

A thumb pushes itself between your puffy pussy lips. A lewd squelch reaches your ears. He circles your clit over the material. Sato’s breath fans over the sensitive skin there as he slots himself between your thighs, lying down on his stomach. He gets real comfortable.

“In class, here, studying, showering, getting Toru out of trouble, even in my dreams, I think of you.” G-string pulled to the side, Sato finally presses to your clit. Skin to skin. You sigh. He rasps, “It’s always you, don’t you get that? Always you. Even before I knew you existed — I may not believe in God or any religions, but I do believe that if we had souls, mine was calling out for you this whole time.”

You pout. “That’s cheesy, Sato.”

He chuckles before he licks a stripe up your slit, groaning at your taste. “Yeah, I know. And if you tell Toru I said any of that, I’ll pretend you’re lying.” He releases a tense breath. “I mean it though. You bring out this side of me that I’d never show anyone, that I didn’t realise I had. I know we do things differently to other couples, and we’re probably a little childish about things — that’s what Toru says at least, and you know I hate to hear that from him — but we work. Despite it all, we work.”

Dazzling blue eyes stare up at you. Your breath gets stuck in your throat. 

“I. Love. You. If there’s anything you need to believe, it’s that,” he says, sounding damn near ready to set fire to anyone who tries to convince you otherwise.

You brush locks of his hair away from his face. His eyes shut at the feeling of your hand soothing him. “Okay, Sato,” you whisper. “I believe you. Now eat it.”

Your hand yanks him to your pussy.

His muffled surprise vibrates against your heated flesh. Head thrown back, you moan in bliss when he quickly recovers and starts sucking on your pulsing clit.

Sato is a smart boy. 

He always knows the right words to bring you back down. 

Who else would have the patience to deal with you?

“Mm, fuck, I missed how sweet your pussy is,” he mumbles right inside you, tongue lapping up your wetness. He collects the juices just to spread it over your clit. Sato rubs the bundle of nerves in tight circles, with the perfect amount of pressure to have your back arching. 

Moaning, you say, “Fuck, baby, you’re -ngh- eating me out so good. More. Suck my clit more!”

“I love when you boss me around,” he whines, dominant voice gone. In its place is your boyfriend who complains when you leave his arms at night to go to the bathroom. “Love when you tell me exactly what you need. Always wanna be good for you.”

“Oh, you’re so good, Sato,” you mewl. “Always so good.”

Fingers work their way inside your cunt. They force the ring of muscle at the entrance to take them in. His digits are long, reaching your cervix with ease and finding that sensitive spot inside. When he curls up, your thighs tighten around his head, threatening to suffocate him.

But Sato doesn’t complain; he only groans, eyes rolling back. 

Doubling the intensity, he flattens his tongue up your entire pussy and licks up again and again. He’s slurrrrrrping! all your juices up with no shame or reservation. Yet, there’s always something measured and calculated with each move. 

He’s wholly aware of how you like your pussy eaten out, of where you’re most sensitive, of what pace to tongue you. His brain never turns off. 

Orgasm impending, you tug at his hair to keep him in place as your hips grind on their own. The tip of his nose bumps your clit delectably. “Sato, fuck!”

He whimpers approvingly. “Yes, baby. That’s it. Ride my face.”

The bed’s rocking. You realise then, through the haze of pleasure, that he’s humping the bed, like a dog. It reminds you of the first time he ate you out, how he’d been so obsessed with the smell, the sight, the sweetness, and the warmth of your pussy that he came from his pants and was too embarrassed to get up to show you. 

In spite of how long it’s been, you don’t think he’s ever really forgiven you for getting so drunk that you told Toru. Oh, he ate you out that night for hours and hours, with your wrists bound by ties to the headboard so you couldn’t squirm or push him away in retaliation. You were certain your clit would fall off. 

It’s been a while since he’d come untouched…

Knowing that he’s feeling good from the taste of your pussy he’s missed has you feeling lightheaded.

“I’m,” you gasp out, toes curling, “I’m gonna cum!”

“Oh, fuck yes. Cum, baby. Cum on my face. Let me taste you,” he begs. “I want it so bad. Come on, please. Please, baby.”

A shriek tears right though you. Your whole body spasms. Around his fingers, your walls pulse. He keeps fucking them inside, knowing your g-spot is most sensitive during and after an orgasm. His lips are wrapped around your clit, sucking and sucking, and wringing out vulgar squelches!

When you come down from your high, he’s already hovering over you again. His lips are swollen. Glossy. He licks them. His eyes flicker down, hungry. 

You know what he wants.

Lazily, you smile. “Go on, Sato. Give your soulmate a kiss.”

He groans. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Then he’s sloppily making out with you. 

You can taste yourself on his tongue. Not that you mind. 

Sato ruts his raging boner against your bare pussy, getting his sweatpants all wet. He doesn’t care about anything other than feeling good, than grinding onto you, than tasting you. This is better than the thrill of shopping.

Most of the time, Sato’s the one who leads. He’s the one telling you what position to get in, how many orgasms he wants you to give him, and he says when you’re done. He’s a sadist — he loves to spank, to tie you up, gag you, and make you beg for it. Which no one would expect from the judgemental, little nerd. But sometimes, when you’ve pulled at his heartstrings enough, you get these rare and precious moments where you can get him to say the things he doesn’t even say to himself. 

Only for you, when you’ve convinced him he’s hurt you too much or too far, does he relinquish control and let you ride him emotionally and sexually. And the high you get from it is unlike any other. It’s almost as good as following his commands. 

You suppose, after the two day break, you were just more emotional, more in need of reassurance, than ever. He understood that. And without complaint, without another word about it, he was more than ready and willing to give you everything you need. 

He really is your soulmate.

A string of spit connects you both when he parts from you maybe hours later. His cock’s out, bobbing right by your pussy — you didn’t even notice he’d taken it out. His soft hand’s tugging on the length, squeezing out beads of pre cum.

God, it’s so pretty.

Sato taps the flushed cock head on your clit. “Mm, Sato!” 

“Don’t think I didn’t realise what you were doing,” he mutters. Those gorgeous eyes flit up to yours. A corner of his mouth curls up into an arrogant smirk. “You never have to manipulate me to get me to eat your pussy and make love confessions, but I do find it entertaining when you do.”

Grinning, you casually start groping your tits. “I know. That’s why I do it. I know my kitty gets so wet for Mean Sato most times, but I like being the mean one in bed sometimes too. Can’t we have an even balance?”

“80-20.”

You pout. “60-40?”

His cock pushes in, inch by inch. You gasp. Your hands fall to grab his arms. The backs of your thighs are resting on his as he lifts your hips up to fuck his cock down at a delicious angle. 

Sato presses down on your lower belly. Your walls clench down around him. He groans. You love when he does that; you can feel him even better when he bottoms out. He drawls, “80-20 and I buy you another pair of heels.”

“Deal!”

“Oh, and we’re back together again,” he adds.

As he rocks into you, you breathe out, “We were always together.”

He nods before kissing you on the nose. 

“And don’t you forget it.”

satoru and suguru are the stars of your university.

they have it all — the looks, the grades, the girls (and guys). and in your shared BIO 141 class, better known as your human anatomy and physiology class, they’re known for being top of the class, never having failed an exam. you, however, have been falling behind in that said class. 

but it truly isn’t your fault. you can’t help that the two men sit at a perfect angle for you to gawk and stare at them for the entirety of class. yeah, it’s not your fault at all! in fact, it’s your stupid professor’s fault for placing the two pieces of eye candy directly in your line of view!

it’s tuesday again and your professor is rambling on about the limbic system or something of the sort. you don’t really comprehend what he’s saying because it seems the two pieces of eye candy have gotten matching tattoos. a dark betta fish on suguru’s right bicep and a lighter one on satoru’s left. 

you can’t help but let your mind wander to how those arms would look holding you up as they’re pounding into you. dirty words being whispered into your ear as you try your best to keep up with them. “such a good slut for u-“

your name being called out by your professor yanks you out of your trance. you blink twice, ripping your eyes of the two boys but not before they could catch you staring at them. 

“i asked you a question.”

“s-sorry professor” you wince at how silly you sound stuttering after being caught daydreaming in class.

your professor just sighs and instead of repeating his question, he tells you to stay after class to meet with him. you can feel the eyes of your classmates boring into you, the immature snickers make you want to go back to your dorm and stay there forever.

or better yet, go to satoru and suguru’s shared apartment and let them fuck the embarrassment away.

you shake your head in an attempt to refocus your attention. before you can tune in to what your professor has to say, you see satoru and suguru steal a quick glance at you and whisper to each other. 

“gojo and geto, i’d like you two after class as well”  

once more, the class erupts into whispering to their nearest friend before the professor regains their attention once and for all. you also stop your mind from wandering too far into your daydreams about what could happen after class and return your attention back to the professor who was clearly irritated. 

in an effort to save yourself from embarrassment, you head down to see your professor as soon as class ends to end the conversation before the two boys can tune in. 

“i assume you understand why i wanted to see you?” his voice is sharp, an underlying tone of dissatisfaction.

“yes sir, i know my grade in your class need some work but i will do my best to bring it up” 

his reply is quick. “i know you will because gojo and geto will be tutoring you.”

you truly don’t know how to feel. getting the chance to be around your crushes is both amazing and horrible. thinking about how they definitely know you’ve been staring at them every class makes you feel nauseous. thinking about being perceived isn’t your favorite thing, but thinking about how they’ll be around you, teaching you the course that you’ve completely missed out on due to your very vivid daydreams. 

“wait, what?” god, satoru’s voice sounded much sexier when it was right behind you. 

“you heard me. both of you will be helping her understand her classwork until the end of the semester.” and your professor's voice sounded much scarier when it was in right front of you. “i’ll know if you two have truly put enough effort in when i see her grade on our next exam.”

you’re too ashamed to make eye contact with the two boys, a wave of embarrassment flooding your face knowing that your two crushes now know your biggest academic insecurity. the room is silent until suguru speaks up, “okay, we’ll need your number though” yeah, suguru’s voice was just as sexy as satoru’s. 

you hear your name being called. you finally make eye contact. “sorry, what?” your voice is meek, smaller than you remember it to be. satoru laughs, “your number, sweetheart. so we can set a date for our sessions. you know, the tutoring ones?” satoru calling you sweetheart makes you want to implode, he has to know what he does to you. what they do to you. 

“oh, here” you leave as soon as you give them your number. suguru’s “we’ll text about planning later” giving you the greenlight to get the hell out of there before you somehow manage to embarrass yourself even further.

-

xxx-xxx-xxxx added you and xxx-xxx-xxxx into a chat

unknown: you free this weekend?

you: who is this???

unknown: aw man :( all that staring in class and you can’t even remember who we are, we’re hurt baby

- 

you stare at the message. okay. so you know who it is. and you also know that they know your grades are horrible because you’ve spent almost every class openly drooling over them. no big deal. it’s not like your sessions will be in a private area.

-

unknown: satoru and i talked, we think it’ll be best to tutor you at our place since there’ll be less distractions there.

-

okay then. you’ll just have to work on your nerves before this weekend. you have time. right now you’ll be using that time to try and get over the fact that satoru called you baby.

the next few days pass by a little too slow for your liking but soon you’re getting ready for your date with the two boys. wait, tutoring session with the two boys. you couldn’t help but dress up a little, adding a matching set underneath your skirt and blouse.

-

satoru: i’m outside, come out whenever you’re ready

you: coming out now! which car is yours?

satoru: you’ll know it when you see it ;)

-

you head out slightly confused but when you see a white corvette flashing its blinkers at you, you understand what satoru meant. before you reach his car, satoru gets out to open the door for you. the small giggle you let out doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

a wave of confidence runs through your veins as you tell him he’s “quite the gentlemen” when he buckles your seatbelt for you before sitting in the driver's seat himself. his response is a quick wink and then you two are off to their apartment. you try not to stare too hard at him throughout the ride but you can’t help but let yourself indulge in a few glances that lasted longer than they should’ve.

soon enough you two have reached the apartment and satoru parks the car. this time you don’t hide your staring. his effortless moves have you squeezing your thighs together. why is this turning you on??? you have got to be ovulating. 

satoru calls out your name. “you ready?” you blink. “o-oh, yeah i’m ready.” he grins and unbuckles you before sliding out the car to open your door. their apartment is cleaner than you expected, and also way larger than you expected it to be. “you finally back satoru?” you turn around to see suguru in sweatpants and stark contrast to satoru’s shorts. “hi, thanks again for tutoring me” you say. they both let out a soft chuckle and suguru returns the greeting.

they show you to a room that you truly didn’t expect for them to have in their place. there’s a shelf stacked with different books and another bigger one beside it with their trophies. there are two desks but one of them is currently situated with three chairs. you’re deep in thought about how you would love to be bent over the desks as the two boys make you take them over and over and over again.

this time it’s suguru calling your name to draw you out of your daydream. “you can take a seat on the middle chair. do you have anything in specific that you need help understanding?” oh right, you came here to be tutored. “um, everything? well not like everything but maybe the latest subject? i haven’t had the time to actually go over the notes i took.” 

a lie, you didn’t take any notes. your notebook is filled with small doodles and occasionally a sentence from a slide the professor left on the screen for too long. you place your hands in your lap when the two boys take a seat on either side of you. “no need to be nervous, sweetheart. we’re here to help you.” satoru has got to know that him and his stupidly attractive voice aren’t helping you and you want to turn to suguru for help but he’s just as bad. “he’s right, pretty girl. you’ve got to relax, you won’t be able to remember anything when you’re shaking like that.”

to make it even worse, they each place a hand on your bare thighs. satoru rubs his soft fingers up and down while suguru squeezes your thigh gently before using a thumb to make circular motions in a single spot. you can feel your body heating up and it takes everything in you to not squeeze your thighs together because it would make your want need for them way too obvious and quite frankly, you’re still embarrassed they caught you staring.

satoru makes eye contact with suguru, a silent communication between the two of them. he gives your thigh a gentle pat before he starts to speak. “do you work better with rewards, baby?” you turn to look at him. you aren’t sure what he means exactly and you’re feeling a little overstimulated by all the touching, the pet names, and their attention in general. you’re by no means a virgin, though you aren’t too far from it, but for some reason they make you so nervous you can’t think straight. 

suguru says your name in a voice that sounds like it’s reserved for scolding puppies but right now it just turns you on even more than you are. “answer satoru, he’s not big on being ignored” apparently you don’t turn your head fast enough because satoru’s hand moves from your thigh to grasp your face gently, but not too gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “he’s right, baby. i don’t want to be rough with you just yet. i’m gonna ask again and i expect an answer. would you like us to give you rewards?” despite his words being slightly threatening, you bite your lip to hold back a whine. you squeak out a “yes please” and return to suppressing your whines because suguru still has moved his hand further up your skirt, his fingers grazing dangerously close to your soaked slit. 

“good girl. now let's get started” satoru removes his hand from your jaw but suguru only moves his hand back down to your lower thigh, giving you one more squeeze. the tutoring session goes something like this; suguru and satoru take turns explaining different topics covered during your last class. once they’re done, satoru quizzes you. everytime you answer correctly, suguru moves his hand up and satoru praises you. but every time you fail to answer a question correctly or fast enough, suguru slips his hand away and satoru reminds you that “only smart girls get rewards”. 

this method seems to work because you’re starting to answer correctly more often until you’re only answering correctly and suguru’s fingers are grazing your panties. “oh, she’s soaked, satoru. i think this sweet thing deserves a bigger reward. she’s been listening so well” a small whimper leaves your lips and you turn your head to satoru, your eyes begging for something more than some light touches accompanied by a few praises. 

to prove his point even further you really do start to beg. “please satoru, i need it so bad. ‘ve been so good, please” you can tell it works because he immediately coos at you. “d’awh, i think she deserves a reward too, suguru. we should give it to her” and with that satoru leans in, pressing his lips into yours. his soft, pillowy lips against yours make you almost forget suguru’s hands are on your panties.

almost. 

suguru pulls your panties to the side, raking his middle and ring finger through your folds, collecting your slick. he traces them downwards before bringing them back up to circle around your clit once, twice, three times and then he repeats the process. once he’s deemed his fingers wet enough, he slips one in pumping and curling wasting no time before adding in a second one. 

kissing down your neck, satoru rips your blouse open and pushes your bra down. lithe fingers trace around your nipple making you arch into satoru. you let out a breathy moan into satoru’s mouth, followed by more whines when suguru adds a third finger and starts to scissor them to stretch you out. you can feel satoru smirk against your lips when you start to struggle to kiss back. 

satoru removes his mouth from you, drinking in the sight of you. the sweet, shy girl in their class who couldn’t help but keep her eyes off of the two boys. the same girl who struggled to keep eye contact and who was barely vocal when they were present is now writhing in their chair. your back arching into satoru, a silent plea for him to keep touching you. and your hips grinding on suguru’s fingers, begging him to keep going. 

and most importantly, your voice has finally found itself to be heard. your pleas of “can’t, ‘s too much” and “wan’ more, please don’t stop, please” echo throughout the room. satoru takes two of his own fingers and pats them on your lips, a signal for you to open your mouth. you comply, wishing they would keep praising you. as if he can hear your thoughts, satoru mutters a “atta girl” when he slips his fingers into your mouth. 

he lets them hit the back of your throat a few times and when you gag, he pulls them back. not entirely, but just enough so that you’re still drooling on them but aren’t entirely gagging. he moves his fingers in a scissoring motion for some time and then he pulls them out. before you can even think about missing his fingers in your mouth, he moves them down to your clit, rubbing calculated circles. 

suguru moves his fingers faster, curling them upwards till they hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “i think our sweet girls about to cum, satoru” suguru breaks the silence between him and satoru. “i think so too” you can’t tell if it’s the way they’re talking about you as if you weren’t there but you cum the second the two speak, your body shaking as they help you ride it out. suguru shallowly pumping his fingers in while satoru slows his circles on your clit. suguru leans in to give you a kiss, his lips doing most of the work as your body recovers from your mindblowing orgasm. 

you yelp into suguru’s mouth when satoru pats your clit a little too hard. you want to say something but he taps your clit one more time before watching more slick dribble out of your cunt and onto the chair. suguru is the first to speak. his lips trail towards your ear leaving soft kisses in each place he covers. “you did so well for us, sweetheart. how’re you feeling?” as he speaks, satoru wipes the tears from your eyes and rubs comforting circles on your cheek.

your heart throbs at the attention. you understand what suguru is asking; are you still up for more? or are you done for the time being? you bite your lip before you speak.

“m-more, please. want more. want both of you. please.” satoru places a gentle kiss on your lips. “you’re so good for us, baby. a perfect listener. you think you can take us both? you think your tight little hole can fit both of us?” you moan out loud at his words.

“i don’t know, satoru. she might not be able to handle us.” suguru’s teasing you and you know it, but you don’t care. the thought of them leaving you so wet and needy for them may have your cunt clenching on nothing but you think you might die if you don’t feel them stretching you out.

“nonono, please. please don’t. need it so bad. need you two so bad. wan’ your cocks in me, now. don’t care if it hurts” you think you might’ve broken them because now it’s them who can’t wait till you're done speaking. 

suguru stands up, dragging you up with him before he rips your panties off in one go. satoru, now standing behind you, is pushing your skirt as far up as it can go before pulling his dick out of his pants. suguru following his lead. 

they each keep one hand on a hip, keeping you upright. you feel satoru slip his dick between your folds from behind you, coating himself in your slick before pushing the tip into you. “oh, fuck. satoru, you’re so big” you hear suguru groan from in front of you. he’s using the same hand he fingered you with to stroke himself, waiting for you to adjust to satoru. 

satoru slowly pushes all the way in, stopping every inch or so when you let out a whine of discomfort. “breathe, baby. breathe” satoru may think he’s helping but his velvety voice in your ear is only turning you on more. your pussy doing anything but loosening up. after some time, you slowly grind your hips back onto him, letting him know you’re ready for him to move.

he starts with shallow thrusts and soon he’s going all the way back out before slamming his hips forward. your body shakes in their arms. you’re sure if they let go, you’d fall onto the floor. satoru’s pace doesn’t stay that way forever, though. you cry out a “s’toru, mo-move please” when you feel him slow his thrusts until he comes to a complete stop. 

“shhh, baby. suguru needs to feel you too, doesn’t he?” your eyes widen. you recall your words from earlier, you still want them more than anything but a feeling of uncertainty hits you. as if they can feel your unease, satoru nuzzles his nose into your neck while suguru rubs comforting circles into your hip. suguru gives you a kiss, wet and open mouthed. “you’ve been so good for us, yeah? we’ll take care of you” suguru whispers in your ear. his voice makes you clench harder around satoru.

you know satoru felt it because his mouth hasn’t left your neck and you can feel a grin spreading on his face. “we’ll go slow for you, sweetheart. you don’t need to do anything but be good for us. you can do that, right baby?” they wait for your response. though they’re both aching to be inside of you, they want to make sure you feel the same.

the room is silent when you speak. “p-please, wanna’ be your good girl” and they’re off. satoru stays still inside of you, instead moving one arm to wrap around your waist and his other hand to spread your pussy for suguru. “you gotta relax, sweet girl. there’s no way suguru’s gonna fit when you’re clenching down on me like that” suguru chuckles at the other man's words before he starts to squeeze his way in. satoru moves the fingers that were spreading you open to your clit, rubbing circles as suguru continues to push himself inside of you. 

your whines only get louder when they’re both finally inside of you. suguru is the first to speak. “you look so pretty like this. all stretched out on our dicks. i think we should keep her satoru.” satoru hums in agreement. “i think we should too. it’d be so nice to come home to her waiting so patiently for us to fuck her, take care of her” he lowers his voice adding a “and to love her” before you can process his words, satoru pulls all the way out and all the way back in. you let out a borderline pornographic moan and you feel them both twitch at the sound. 

“p-please move” you sniffle. and move they do. when suguru pulls out, satoru pushes in. and when satoru pulls out, suguru pushes in. the room filled with your whines and cries of “‘s too much”, “can’t take it”, and “wan’ more”. they do their best to give you everything you need. satoru uses a hand coated with your slick to make you face him so he can smash his lips against yours. 

he’s rough with his kiss. shoving his tongue down your throat, making you suck on it and pulling it out just so he can nibble on your lips. suguru, on the other hand, has made himself busy with your neck. he leaves bite marks wherever he can, kissing the same area he bit softly as if he was soothing the pain. “ha-harder”

satoru breaks the kiss with a groan. “our girl is so greedy, suguru. should we give her what she wants? i’m not sure i heard a please” suguru, still busy with your neck, grunts softly in feigned disappointment. “i thought we had trained her better than that. maybe we shouldn’t give it to her” you shake your head at their words “no! n-no please. i’m sor-ry, i’ll be good. don’ stop, please”

this seems to satisfy them because they listen. and they listen well. they not only move harder, but somehow deeper too. suguru has one of your legs lifted in the air while satoru keeps you steady at your waist. your moans get louder and louder, a warning that you’re getting close. you know satoru and suguru are aware but you know better than to cum without asking. 

“c-can i? please ‘ve been so good, wanna cum s-so bad” you’re practically sobbing and they can feel themselves throbbing around you. satoru kisses your cheek and says something along the lines of “you can cum, baby” but you aren’t listening because suguru bit that spot on your neck and satoru hit that spot in your cunt and you’re seeing stars when you squirt on them. 

they only get in a few more thrusts before they fill you up with their cum. “holy shit” satoru chuckles “didn’t know you were a squirter, baby” you whine out in embarrassment, wanting to hide your face in your hands but you feel too tired to do anything.  

you whimper when suguru pulls out, followed by satoru. the feeling of being empty being foreign after being stuffed so full. suguru carefully places your leg down, making sure satoru is still holding you up. you’re not sure what he has planned because he has that stupid grin on his face that he and satoru share when they’re about to do something devious. 

when around forty seconds have passed and the only thing that’s happened is satoru leaving wet kisses along your back, you think you’re in the clear but your legs being moved. each one gently placed on the shoulder of a very handsome suguru who is currently on his knees between your legs. you want to protest, tell them you’re still recovering from the last orgasm but suguru presses a kiss to your clit. 

the constant stimulation has your clit protruding out, begging for attention, so how could he not kiss it some more? the sounds from between your legs are no less than obscene. suguru is groaning into your cunt. he kisses, sucks, bites, and you would be a fucking liar to say that it doesn’t feel as good as it hurts. “you have the sweetest pussy, pretty” he moans out between kisses “tastes so good”

satoru thinks he’s going to go insane. he would much rather be between your legs but he knows there’ll be more chances for him to do so in the future. for now, he’ll focus on pressing those kisses you seem to love on your back and neck while using one hand to show each of your tits equal amounts of attention. and also whispering dirty words into your ear that only shove you closer and closer to the edge you’ve been teetering on. 

“does suguru’s tongue feel good, baby? you like being used by us? you wanna come all over his face like a good girl?” you do. you want to be nothing but the best for them. you wish they would never stop praising you. “y-yes, fuck, wanna be your good girl. wan’ to cum so bad, please can i?” you know nothing of pride, you only know suguru and satoru are making you feel so good that you can barely remember your own name.

it’s only when suguru says your name in that rough voice of his before telling you to come that you remember. you cum hard on his face, his mouth never stopping but only slowing down and moving to place gentle kisses on your clit. “you did so well for us, sweetheart” satoru moves his hands up and down your sides to sooth your trembling body. when suguru leaves to grab a washcloth to clean you up, satoru is still whispering comforting praises into your ear. he backs up to sit himself in a chair and tugs you into his lap. “shhh, it’s okay, baby. i got you”

suguru returns with a wet washcloth. “can you open up for me, pretty? jus’ gonna clean you, nothing else” satoru knows your body is capable of moving just yet so he takes your whine as the okay for him to spread you open for his friend. once suguru’s done, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

suguru dresses you in one of his oversized shirts before satoru takes you to his bed. they let you sleep while they clean themselves up before joining you in bed as well. you wake up later that night to two sleeping boys and an ache between your legs. they each are touching you in their own ways, suguru nuzzled into your neck and satoru’s hand wrapped possessively around your waist. you find yourself drifting back into sleep and the next time you wake up, there’s a note on the bedside table.

“we stepped out for a bit but we’ll be back soon with breakfast, baby ;)” 

-

tuesday comes by again once more and this time you’re the only one staying behind. the past three days have been spent “studying” at suguru and satoru’s place and you’re finally ready to hear about your test results from your professor. when he returns your paper, you know there’s only one thing to do.

you text the two boys a picture of your grade on your exam making sure the big 98% written on top of a “nice work!” is clearly shown.

-you: i think i deserve a reward

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