#mahito

toji. f

You’d been asking him for twenty minutes, shamelessly relentless, until Toji finally let out a heavy sigh and shifted over you. Even then, he refused to give you his full weight. He braced his knees on the mattress on either side of your head, his thick, scarred thighs framing your vision as he hovered just inches above your mouth.

"You're annoying, you know that?" he grumbled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration in the dark room.

You didn't answer, just tilted your chin up and caught him. The moment your tongue swiped firmly against his slick heat, the tension in Toji's heavy frame snapped. He didn't stay hovering for long. As you worked your tongue in broad, demanding strokes, his hips started to drop. He began grinding down against your mouth, a slow, desperate roll of his hips that forced you deeper against his center.

His breathing roughened, turning into sharp, jagged hitches. He gripped the headboard, his knuckles turning white as he chased the friction. You added two fingers, sliding them inside and hooking upward. Toji's breath hitched violently. He was practically riding your face now, his heavy muscles twitching with every frantic thrust of his hips as he ground down onto your tongue.

Then, without warning, his entire body stiffened up.

Toji let out a sharp, breathless gasp. His back arched, and a sudden, heavy rush of hot fluid sprayed directly across your mouth and cheeks. It wasn't just a leak; he was actively squirting, his internal muscles pulsing frantically around your fingers as the sheer volume of it coated your lower face.

The room went dead silent, save for the sound of his ragged breathing.

Toji froze completely. The strength gave out in his arms, and he dropped down, his knees taking his weight as he stared blindly at the wall. He looked down at you, his usually sharp green eyes blown wide in absolute, stunned disbelief. He was completely speechless, a dark flush rapidly climbing up his thick neck and spreading across his scarred chest. He just stared at the wet mess on your face, his mouth slightly parted, trying to process what his body had just done.

You pulled your fingers out slowly and swiped the back of your hand across your chin, catching the slick fluid. You looked up at his shocked, flushed face and smirked.

"Damn, Toji," you said, your voice low and cocky. "Didn't know I could work you out like that."

His jaw snapped shut. For a long, heavy second, he just stared at the wet mess covering your lower face. The deep red flush burned all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Shut up," he finally grated out, his voice a full octave lower than usual, completely raw. He dragged a heavy hand down his face, deliberately breaking eye contact. "Don't act like you did something special. I just... it's been a long week."

You didn't wipe the smirk off your face, letting your eyes drop meaningfully to where his thighs were still trembling against the mattress.

"Stop looking at me like that," he snapped, though the harshness of his tone was completely ruined by the way his breath caught at the end of the sentence. He shifted his weight, suddenly hyper-aware of his own body and the undeniable evidence he'd left all over you. He reached down, his large, calloused thumb aggressively wiping at your chin and cheek, trying to scrub away the proof. "Wipe your damn face. You look stupid grinning like that."

You chuckled, catching his wrist and leaning up to kiss the inside of his palm. He flinched, but he didn't pull his hand away.

"I'm serious," he warned, his chest still heaving as he finally forced himself to look back down at you. His green eyes were dark, defensive, but blown wide with lingering heat. "You utter a word of this to anyone, and I'm putting you through a wall. You just caught me off guard. Don't let it go to your head."

He let out a rough, shaky breath, trying to summon his usual intimidating aura, but he was still straddling you, completely laid bare and visibly shaken.

"Now are you gonna get up," he muttered, his voice dropping into a needy, impatient growl as his hips twitched involuntarily against you, "or are you just gonna lay there looking smug all night? Because I still have an ache you need to take care of."

You didn't argue. You just reached up, gripping the back of his thick neck, and pulled him down. He didn't resist, collapsing his heavy frame over yours. He caught your lips in a quick, rough kiss, tasting the salt and slick of himself on your mouth without a single complaint.

He broke the kiss just as fast, turning his head to bury his flushed face deep into the crook of your neck. He let out a long, heavy exhale, his massive chest expanding against yours as he snuggled closer, his solid weight pinning you to the mattress. He was still trembling slightly, his arms wrapping around your shoulders in a tight, grounding hold.

"Just shut up and touch me," he mumbled into your skin, the last of his fight completely drained out of him.

satoru .g

The sheets were a tangled wreck underneath you both. You were twisted up in a breathless 69, Satoru’s ridiculously long legs straddling your shoulders while his face hovered right over your hips. He had your cock in his hand, his lips parted to finally take you in, but the second your tongue swiped firmly against his slick heat, his jaw just slacked.

He was far too distracted by what you were doing to his pussy to actually focus on sucking your dick. He tried, ducking his head down, but as you dragged your tongue right over his most sensitive spot, he let out a sharp gasp and lost his grip entirely. He ended up just panting hot air against your thighs, his long fingers abandoning their task to twist deeply into your hair instead.

"Hold on, let me—ah!" Satoru gasped, a breathless, exhilarated laugh bubbling out of him as he failed to focus for the third time. "You’re doing that on purpose. You’re not even letting me start."

You didn't let up. You gripped his thighs, holding him steady as you worked your tongue in broad, demanding strokes. Satoru was incredibly vocal, his hips rolling eagerly and shamelessly against your mouth as he completely surrendered to the sensation. The room was filled with the wet, heavy sounds of the friction and his ragged breathing.

He arched his lower back, pushing himself deeper against your face. You took the invitation, sliding two fingers deep inside him and hooking upward to hit that internal sweet spot, keeping a relentless, punishing pace with your tongue.

Satoru’s breath hitched violently. He completely abandoned the idea of the 69, his head dropping back against the mattress as he practically rode your face. His long frame arched completely off the bed, his thighs trembling uncontrollably against your cheeks as the overstimulation built up higher and faster than he was ready for.

"Yeah, right there," he stuttered out, his voice pitching higher. "Don't stop, don't—fuck!"

A violent, full-body shudder ripped through his long frame as the last of his control completely broke.

Satoru let out a loud, sharp cry, his fingers pulling taut against your scalp. His hips buckled hard, and a sudden, heavy rush of hot fluid sprayed directly across your mouth, chin, and cheeks. He was shaking, his internal muscles clenching in frantic, wet waves around your fingers, completely coating your lower face.

He collapsed down onto your legs, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. For a split second, there was total silence in the room, except for the sound of the bed creaking.

Then, Satoru shot up. He pushed himself onto his hands, craning his neck to look down at your face. His bright blue eyes were blown incredibly wide, but there wasn't a single hint of embarrassment in them. Instead, a massive, thrilled grin broke out across his flushed face.

"Holy shit!" he laughed out loud, completely breathless and amazed. "Did I just do that?!"

You pulled your fingers out slowly, swiping the back of your hand across your slick chin. You looked up at his wide, excited eyes and smirked, your tone perfectly cocky and satisfied.

"Damn, Satoru," you teased, your voice low. "Didn't know I could make you flood like that. Look at the mess you made."

"Are you kidding?! That was incredible!" he beamed, completely unashamed of the sheer volume of slick covering your face.

He shifted his long frame immediately, abandoning the 69 entirely to slide his legs down and fully straddle your waist. He leaned down over you, practically vibrating with lingering adrenaline, and didn't even hesitate before pressing a wet, messy kiss right to your lips. He tasted himself on you without a second thought, his tongue swiping lazily at the corner of your mouth.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his flush deepening but his grin turning distinctly teasing. He reached out, tapping a finger right on your slick chin.

"You look really good wearing me, by the way," he hummed, his tone playfully arrogant. He let out a happy, exhausted sigh and dropped his weight, snuggling his face right into the crook of your neck. His heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against your chest, and his arms wrapped tight around your shoulders.

"You're an absolute genius," he murmured happily against your collarbone, his hips still twitching involuntarily against you. "But now I have to clean up my mess. So lay back, because it's my turn to focus... and I'm going to take my sweet time draining you completely dry."

choso. k

You had him pulled right to the edge of the mattress, his back flat against the sheets while you knelt on the floor between his legs. It was an incredibly vulnerable position, and Choso was visibly hesitant. His hands were gripping tightly at the bedsheets, his knuckles turning stark white, and every time you leaned in even an inch, his thighs would reflexively try to snap shut against your sides.

"Wait," he breathed, his voice tight and nervous. A dark, heavy blush was already dusting his pale cheeks, spreading down his neck and over his collarbones. "It's... I'm already too sensitive right now. Maybe we should just—"

You didn't let him finish. You reached out, gently but firmly catching his wrists, prying his fingers away from the bunched-up fabric of the sheets and pinning his hands flat to the mattress by his sides. Then, you slid your arms under his knees, hooking his pale legs securely over your shoulders. It opened him up completely to your view, leaving him entirely exposed.

Choso let out a shaky, embarrassed whine, turning his head sharply to the side so he wouldn't have to look at you. He squeezed his eyes shut, his chest rising and falling in shallow, nervous hitches.

"Just relax for me," you murmured, leaning in close enough that your breath fanned over his slick skin.

The moment your tongue traced a long, slow, deliberate path right over his center, Choso let out a startled, high-pitched gasp. His entire body jolted like he’d been struck by lightning. He was so incredibly pent-up and sensitive that even the lightest, teasing pressure felt like a massive shock to his system. He tried to squirm backward, instinctively trying to pull away from the overwhelming sensation, but your grip on his hips kept him anchored right at the edge of the bed.

"It's too much," he whimpered, tears immediately welling in his dark eyes and spilling over the bridge of his nose. "Please, I can't... I can't take it, it's too much..."

He was pleading, shaking his head against the pillows, but his body was completely betraying him. Even as he cried out for you to stop, his hips were instinctively bucking upward, his breathing turning into wet, ragged gasps as he chased the very friction he claimed was too intense.

You answered his frantic movements by sliding two fingers deep inside his soaking heat, curling them upward to hit a steady, rhythmic pace while your tongue worked him over without a single ounce of mercy.

Choso became a complete wreck. He was sobbing openly now, sweet, musical sounds of pure sensory overload leaving his lips. His head thrashed against the pillows, his dark hair a tangled, sweat-dampened mess. His stomach muscles jumped and twitched with every stroke of your tongue, the overstimulation rapidly pushing him past the point of rational thought.

"Please!" he sobbed out, his voice cracking as his toes curled so tight they cramped. "Ah! I'm—I'm gonna—!"

A violent, full-body shudder ripped through him as he finally shattered.

Choso let out a loud, ruined wail, his back arching off the mattress so hard he practically lifted himself into the air. A sudden, heavy rush of hot fluid sprayed directly across your face.

The heavy, intense rush of it left him completely drained. His body went limp, collapsing back onto the mattress with a heavy thud. His chest rose and fell in sharp, desperate gasps as the last of the tremors worked their way through his thighs.

All Choso could do was lay there and pant.

Then, Choso slowly opened his tear-filled eyes, peering down at you through his damp lashes, his chest still heaving. When he finally focused on your face—when he saw the sheer volume of slick dripping from your chin and painting your cheeks—his breath hitched violently in his throat.

He froze completely. A look of pure, unadulterated shock washed over his pale features, his lips parting in silent horror. The red flush on his face that seemed to consume him entirely.

You pulled your fingers out with a soft, wet pop, slowly swiping the back of your hand across your slick chin. You looked up at his horrified, flustered face, letting a slow, incredibly self-satisfied smirk cross your lips.

"And here you were begging me to wait," you teased, your voice low and perfectly cocky in the quiet room. "Look at the absolute mess you just made of my face. You must have really been dying for this."

A pathetic, utterly mortified squeak left his throat.

"I—I'm so sorry!" he stammered, his voice trembling with sheer panic, shame, and overwhelming embarrassment. He immediately scrambled upward, his shaking hands reaching out to frantically cup your jaw, his thumbs trying to wipe at your slick-covered cheeks. "I didn't mean to—I don't know what happened! I'm so sorry, you're covered in it, I ruined everything, I—"

You chuckled, catching his trembling wrists to stop his frantic, messy apologies. You leaned forward, tilting his chin up, and pressed a quick, wet kiss right to his trembling lips, tasting the salt and slick of him, shutting him up instantly.

Choso melted into the kiss the second your lips met his, a soft, needy whimper vibrating in the back of his throat. When you pulled back, his eyes were wide and beautifully dazed, his blind panic instantly replaced by a heavy, adoration-filled heat that he couldn't hide.

Before he could find his voice to start apologizing all over again, he just gave up. He slumped forward with a heavy sigh, sliding right off the pillows to wrap his arms tightly around your neck. He buried his burning, tear-stained face deep into the crook of your shoulder, absolutely desperate to hide from your cocky gaze.

"You're terrible," he mumbled into your skin, his voice muffled and shaky, though he was clinging to you like a lifeline, his bare thighs still trembling where they bracketed your waist. "Please don't look at me right now... just hold me for a second."

mahito

You had him hoisted up onto the edge of the heavy wooden desk, standing squarely between his legs. Mahito was leaning back on his hands, swinging his bare heels against the back of your thighs and giggling that manic, grating laugh of his. He was treating the whole thing like a game, his mismatched eyes bright with chaotic amusement as he looked down at you.

"Is this supposed to be intimidating?" he teased, a wide, stitched grin stretching across his face. He tilted his head, completely unbothered. "C'mon, you look so serious! Are you really going to just stare, or are you actually going to—ah!"

His mocking laughter was completely cut off the second you stepped in close and dragged your teeth lightly up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. You didn't give him what he wanted right away. Instead, you took your time, deliberately teasing him. You mapped out the patchwork lines of his skin with slow, agonizingly light laps of your tongue, completely ignoring his slick center while hovering just inches away from it.

Mahito shifted on the hard wood of the desk, his grin faltering. "Hey. Stop messing around. That tickles."

You smirked against his skin and traced a slow circle just outside his heat, blowing a warm breath over him. Mahito’s breath hitched, a sudden, involuntary shiver running down his spine. His hands gripped the edge of the desk tighter.

"I said stop playing," he grumbled, his voice losing its playful edge, dipping into something much more impatient and needy. "Just do it already!"

"Impatient, aren't we?" you hummed.

Then, you finally gave it to him. You gripped his thighs, your fingers digging firmly into his pale skin to hold him in place, and buried your face against him. The second your tongue swiped firmly and relentlessly against his core, the change in him was instantaneous.

The playful arrogance melted entirely off his face, replaced by a look of wide-eyed, frantic overstimulation. He jerked backward, his spine snapping straight, but you didn't let him retreat. You worked your tongue in sharp, demanding strokes, refusing to let up the pressure. He wasn't used to being overwhelmed, usually twisting and reshaping himself out of any corner, but his body was completely betraying him.

"Wait, wait—stop!" he gasped out, his fingers tangling desperately into your hair. He tried to squirm away, letting out a series of high, breathless whines, but his hips were instinctively bucking forward against your mouth. "I can't—it feels too—!"

You answered his frantic movements by sliding two fingers deep inside his soaking heat, hooking upward to hit that deep, internal pulse.

Mahito’s entire body went completely rigid. His breath caught violently in his throat, his jaw dropping open in a silent scream as the sheer intensity of the overstimulation shattered his chaotic facade. His heels dug sharply into your lower back, his pale thighs trembling uncontrollably against your cheeks.

Then, the tension finally snapped.

A violent, full-body shudder ripped through him. Mahito let out a loud, high-pitched cry, his back arching off the desk as a sudden, splash of warm fluid sprayed onto you.

The heavy rush left him entirely drained. He collapsed forward, his chest heaving as he gasped for air, his forehead coming to rest heavily against the top of your head.

Mahito slowly pushed himself up, blinking rapidly as his dazed eyes finally focused on your face. When he saw the sheer volume of slick dripping from your chin and painting your shirt, his breath caught in his throat.

He froze completely. The manic, unhinged curse was rendered completely speechless. A look of pure, unadulterated shock washed over his patchwork features, his mouth falling open. A dark, violent flush erupted across his pale cheeks, burning right through the stitches on his face and spreading all the way down his neck.

You looked up at his horrified, flustered expression, letting a slow, incredibly cocky smirk cross your lips as you wiped his essence off you. You didn't wipe all of it away, letting him stare at exactly what he’d done.

"Well," you teased, your voice low and deeply satisfied in the quiet room. "That’s certainly one way to finally shut you up."

A pathetic, mortified squeak left his throat.

"You talk all that big game," you continued, stepping into the space between his thighs and crowding him against the edge of the desk. "But you completely flood the second I put a little effort in. Didn't know you had it in you to make such a massive mess of me. Look at you. You made a puddle."

"I—what?!" he stammered, his voice trembling with sheer panic and overwhelming embarrassment. He looked entirely stripped of his usual bravado, his shaking hands hovering in the air as if he didn't know what to do with them. "I didn't—I don't even know what just happened! You—you cheated! You did something weird to me, you must have used a cursed technique, I—!"

You chuckled, catching his trembling wrists to stop his frantic, messy excuses. You leaned forward, tilting his chin up, and pressed a quick, wet kiss right to his trembling lips, tasting the salt and slick of him, shutting his rambling up instantly.

Mahito melted into the kiss the second your lips met his, a soft, needy whimper vibrating in the back of his throat. All the fight left his body. When you pulled back, his eyes were wide and beautifully dazed, his panic instantly replaced by a heavy, pliant heat.

Before he could find his voice to start arguing again, he just gave up. He slumped forward with a heavy sigh, sliding right off the edge of the desk to wrap his arms tightly around your neck. He buried his burning, flushed face deep into the crook of your shoulder, his chaotic energy entirely snuffed out.

"You're so mean to me," he mumbled into your skin, his voice muffled and shaky, though he was clinging to you like a lifeline, his bare thighs wrapping securely around your waist to hold himself up against you. "Shut up... don't look at me right now... just carry me to the bed."

suguru. g

You had been begging him for weeks. Every time you backed him against a wall, cornered him in the kitchen, or tried to pull him down onto the bed, Suguru would just offer that perfectly serene, frustratingly composed smile of his. He’d brush a hand through your hair, gently kiss your forehead, and murmur, "Soon. I just want it to be the right time and place. We shouldn't rush these things."

He was incredibly private, highly protective of his own vulnerability, and utterly obsessed with maintaining total control over himself and his environment. He hated the idea of feeling exposed or caught off guard.

But tonight, his elegant little excuses had finally run out.

He was seated deep in the plush, dark velvet armchair in the corner of his dimly lit bedroom, his long, dark hair tied back loosely. You were kneeling on the floor right between his parted thighs. Even now, with his legs spread for you, he was trying so hard to maintain that aura of untouchable grace. He rested one elbow on the armrest, his chin propped on his knuckles as he looked down at you through half-lidded, heavy brown eyes.

"Satisfied?" he hummed, his voice smooth and incredibly patronizing. "You’ve been relentlessly impatient, and now you finally have me exactly where you want me. Just do try to be gentle, won't you? I'd prefer not to make a mess tonight."

His arrogant, perfectly constructed little speech died instantly in his throat the second you bypassed his thighs and buried your face directly against his soaking heat. He tried to quickly muffle the sharp gasp that escaped him, biting down hard on his lower lip, but you weren't going to let him stay composed. Not after making you wait this long.

You gripped his thighs, your thumbs pressing firmly into the muscle as you dragged your tongue in long, deliberate, punishing strokes over his center. Suguru tensed violently, his hips involuntarily jerking upward against your mouth as his lower back arched completely off the cushion.

He tried to recover his composure, forcing a shaky exhale through his nose. He reached a trembling hand down, his palm finding the top of your head in a soft, patronizing pat—a desperate attempt to pace you. "Ah... you certainly don't hold back, do you?" his voice wavered, entirely losing its smooth edge. "That's... slow down a little, sweetheart, I can't—"

But the gentle head pat immediately turned into a white-knuckled, bruising grip in your hair the second you slid two fingers deep inside him, hooking upward to find the deep, internal ache he’d been so desperately hiding.

Suguru’s facade entirely crumbled. His hips buckled, lifting completely off the velvet cushion as he tried to chase the angle of your fingers.

"Wait, please, you're—ah! God, fuck!" he choked out, his voice cracking into a high, ruined pitch.

He was completely overstimulated, his long, muscular legs trembling violently against your ribs. He tried to pull you closer by your hair and push your shoulders away at the exact same time, his body entirely confused by the sheer volume of pleasure. A ruined, desperate whine tore past his lips, his head throwing back against the chair as his toes curled into the carpet.

Then, the final, stubborn thread of his control snapped.

Suguru let out a loud, melodic cry. His entire body locked up tight, and a sudden, rush of hot fluid met your awaiting mouth, completely coating your tongue in the sudden.

The intense rush of it left him completely hollowed out. He slumped forward in the armchair, his chest heaving with ragged, wet gasps. His hands slipped out of your hair, falling limply into his lap as the last of the intense tremors wracked his frame.

For a long, heavy moment, the only sound in the quiet bedroom was his open-mouthed breathing.

"So this is why you've been avoiding me for weeks," you teased, your voice low and deeply satisfied in the quiet room. "You were terrified I'd make you completely lose your mind. I've never seen anyone drench a chair this fast. Look at what you did to my face."

A pathetic, utterly mortified groan escaped his throat.

"Have a little mercy..." Suguru rasped out, his usually eloquent vocabulary completely deserting him. He looked utterly stripped of his pride, his shaking hands coming up to frantically drag down his burning face. "I had no idea I was even capable of that. God, you're wearing half of it. Please, don't gloat, I'm already entirely humiliated."

You chuckled, catching his trembling wrists and gently pulling his hands away from his face, refusing to let him hide. You leaned forward, crowding into his space between his thighs, and pressed a quick, wet kiss right to his trembling lips.

Suguru melted the second your lips met his, a soft, needy whimper vibrating deep in his chest. All the tension drained out of his rigid posture. When you pulled back just an inch, his brown eyes were wide and beautifully dazed, his intense embarrassment entirely replaced by a heavy, pliant heat.

Before he could try to find his composure again, he just completely surrendered. He slid right off the edge of the armchair, his knees hitting the floor right in front of you as he wrapped his long arms tightly around your neck. He buried his burning, flushed face deep into the crook of your shoulder, his perfectly kept facade completely destroyed and abandoned.

His trembling hand came up, instinctively finding the back of your head to offer a soft, shaky pat—his usual comforting gesture, though right now, he was entirely the one who needed it.

"You win," he mumbled into your skin, his voice muffled and shaky, though he was clinging to you like a lifeline, his bare thighs bracketing your waist on the floor. "I severely underestimated you. Now just... hold me, and let me pretend this didn't happen."

naoya. z

The bedroom was stifling, the air heavy with the frantic, wet sounds of his undoing. Naoya was pinned against the headboard, his pale legs hooked over your shoulders and his ankles locked behind your neck in an involuntary, white-knuckled grip. His hair was a sweat-slicked mess, and his dark eyeliner was completely ruined, dragged across his cheekbones in jagged streaks by the tears he couldn’t stop.

"Stop... I said stop!" he choked out, his voice cracking. He tried to shove at your shoulders, but his arms were shaking so violently his hands just slid off.

You didn't listen. You gripped his thighs tighter, your fingers digging into his skin, and buried your face back into his soaking heat. While your tongue swirled in heavy, demanding circles over his center, you slid two fingers deep inside him, stretching him wide and hitting that internal sweet spot with a punishing pace.

The double assault was too much for his nerves. Naoya’s entire body spasmed, a sharp, broken cry tearing from his throat. His hips buckled, his muscles clenching greedily around your fingers even as he tried to pull away from the friction.

"Just one more, Naoya," you murmured against his skin, your voice a low vibration that made him sob.

"It’s not... ah!... how you won't stop! You're... ngh!"

He was completely overstimulated, his nerves frayed, yet he arched further into the touch. His toes curled, and his breath came in hitched, needy whines. You increased the pressure, your tongue flickering faster as your fingers worked him into a frenzy.

"One more," you repeated, your teeth grazing him lightly.

"No! No more, please—Aaaah!"

He went rigid, his back arching off the bed as the next wave hit him. His thighs twitched uncontrollably against your ears as his body finally gave up, then came the gush of slick, coating almost the entirety of your lower face.

He let out a ruined, melodic cry, his hands flying up to cover his face in shame. He was sobbing openly now, his frame vibrating with the force of the climax. You finally pulled back, tasting the salt of him on your lips as you looked at the state of him—the smeared makeup, the trembling limbs, and the soaking mess on the bed.

"You're such a pretty mess, baby," you murmured, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. "Look at you. All that big talk, and you’re just a leaky little girl for me, aren't you?"

Naoya visibly cringed at the endearment, his lip curling in a sneer that was half-furious and half-shattered. A deep, frantic blush climbed all the way to the tips of his ears. He squinted at you through his glassy, tear-filled eyes, his face a brilliant, humiliated crimson.

"What are you looking at, idiot?" he snapped, though his voice was entirely too shaky to carry any real weight. He squinted at you through his glassy, tear-filled eyes, his face a brilliant, humiliated crimson. "Don't call me that... it's pathetic. I'm not some dumb woman or a bitch for you to talk down to."

"Funny," you teased, your tone perfectly cocky as you deliberately let a drop of his slick run down your chin. "Because you're the one on your back, drenching the sheets because you couldn't handle a little tongue. For someone who hates women so much, you sure do scream like a girl for me."

Naoya visibly recoiled, his lip curling in a sneer that was half-furious and half-shattered. "I do NOT—!"

"You do," you interrupted, leaning in until your nose brushed his. "You’re pouting like a bratty little princess just because I made you lose your mind. It’s cute, Naoya. Really."

"I am NOT cute!" he hissed, his voice cracking with indignity. He reached out with a trembling hand, grabbing your collar and tugging you upward with a weak, desperate jerk. "Wipe your face. You look disgusting. You're filthy, and it’s your fault I’m like this anyway."

Despite the insult, he didn't let go of your shirt. His legs remained wide, his heels digging into the mattress as he pulled you closer. His eyes darted to your zipper with a desperate, impatient hunger that betrayed every word of his bratty protest.

"Well?" he whispered, his voice dropping into a needy, demanding rasp. "Are you just going to stare at me and say stupid things all night, or are you actually going to finish this? I'm not waiting any longer. Hurry up and give it to me."

"Say please, then," you hummed. "Tell me you want it, pretty girl."

❝sub!mahito…❞ who is so so submissive that he’ll cry before you even begin.

his cock changes shape. and before you could even adhere to the thought of it, mahito was already rimmed with tears– so grateful that you even questioned the opportunity of fucking him.

he was a soulful individual, taking in every human experience with a grain of salt until he no longer could hold them all in. 

and right now, he’s trying so hard to hold it in for you. trying so hard to mold himself to the feeling of you as you sink down onto the tip of his cock, a breathy gasp on his lips as you drive yourself down to his balls.

he didn’t precisely know why he knew how to mold human anatomy, his dick so prettily constructed with the stitches and all– it curved upwards and reached the tip of his bellybutton. mahito reveled at it but moreso at you– how the female anatomy complimented the male’s so earnestly and he panted when you squeezed around him. 

“shit– y/n, feels weird– feels good, i mean–”

the way that your breasts jiggled with every bounce, heavy and full and wow, he needed a second to admire you before absolutely succumbing to your embrace around him. everytime you fell back down, your thighs working on him, he’d shudder into the feeling and his head felt so fucking fuzzy. 

‘feel good, baby?’ you whispered as his mouth slacked open, his forearm shielding his eyes but you knew it felt fucking amazing. you knew he felt the way you clenched around him, his dick molding you perfectly and trying to bury itself inside if it could and you’d damn well let it. he hit all the right spots as you rucked yourself down on him, building momentum and hearing the raspy sobs from mahito. 

was he actually crying?

tiny sobs wracked his body as drool dribbled from his mouth and he suddenly moved his arm, letting it fall away and you could see the whites of his eyes. he looked absolutely wrecked, the stitches that crowded his face framing his reddened cheeks. his pale blue hair stuck to his forehead with a sheen of sweat and the curse looked like he was having the time of his life.

you could feel his dick twitching, overstimulated by the feeling of your pussy and you knew he wasn’t going to last very long his first time around. but that didn’t matter, he’ll have a handful more times to practice– right now you relished how whiny he was. the first time was always too much and mahito was new to this; the curse practically wantonly whimpered for you every time you rolled your hips on his weeping cock. 

“fuuuck yes, give it to me babe. right there–” 

mahito moaned out, his hands cupping your breasts as you moved closer to him and arching your back into him. he barely knew what got into him as he tweaked your nipple with his fingers, still looking high into his eyelids with his tongue lolled out. 

“lemme suck them, please baby– wanna make you feel good too…” 

he pleaded, his eyes circling back to glower at you impatiently before taking matters into his own hands and wrapping his lips around your nipple with a whine. your arousal coated him perfectly as you felt him start to rut into you desperately, his teeth grazing your bud and you hissed his name at the contact. 

he squeezed his eyes shut as he suddenly stilled, jerking his hips forward into you before filling you with long spurts of his cum. his stitched thighs shook and his faded hands wrapped around your waist to immobilize you, scared that the godly feeling would disappear if you coaxed him too far with your movements.

“i’m soo sorry, fuck–!”

mahito couldn’t help it as he sobbed out his apology, working you open and embedding his cum straight against your cervix and he needed to breed you right then and there– needed your soul to wrap around him.

❝sub!higuruma…❞ who isn’t very submissive unless high heels are on the table.

his suit ironically suited him, the velvet fabric of it soft against your fingertips as you yanked it into your hands. the smug man underneath you immediately dropped his smile, a small breath escaping him as your high heels set foot on his thighs– you were perched atop of his desk, just waiting for higuruma to walk through those doors. 

these were new heels after all, void of any color besides blood red painting the bottoms and you swear he gulped when he noticed; the soft survey of the rest of your uniform taking note in his eyes as well. 

when you had your heels on, you were a different person– the fashion of the world drew you in and let you get close to hiromi higuruma with tangible efforts. he had to get down and beg for it if you wanted something from him, heels representing the message that you often gave.

and he loved it too; the subtle indication that you wanted him solely for the benefit of usage; go on and take his cock if you needed, ride it until you had no more stamina left and let him spill into you with a quiet groan that he’d be keen to muster out. if you needed him, he was there waiting for the judgment that you elicited.

“now, y/n– i-i have a case to–” 

higuruma stumbled out, dropping to his knees as you lifted your heel from him. meetings were obsolete in your mind, you needed his mouth on you– needed him pleading for you underneath the fabric of your skirt. ‘i’m sorry- what’d you call me?’ tittered on your tongue as higuruma spread open his knees slightly against the wooden floor. 

“mistress– i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean it–”

his tone shifted to a more desperate one, looking down at the hardwood and you plunged your heel into his thigh once more; dragging it upwards so it sat flush with his cock. you could feel he was already hard in his trousers, the sleek black material tenting as you rubbed your foot on it and earning a quiet groan from him. 

you wanted to apply pressure, the painful whimper would sound divine but you thought against it. another time…

higuruma peered up at you through hooded eyelids, shrouded in lust and he almost looked about ready to hump your heel if you didn’t catch him beforehand. removing your foot, you hooked your leg around his shoulder and pulled him in close to your cunt. the message was dreadfully clear, your arousal leaking from you like it was honey from a pot.

his hand threatened to palm at himself, but he forced the weight of it to relax onto your thighs. he almost caved when he saw you wore no panties, the mound of your cunt bare on his desk and he hummed softly when his tongue stuck out to taste you. 

“fuck me, you taste so good mistress– tastes so heaven-sent…”

and god, was his nose fucking so gorgeous that it rubbed straight into your clit with every lick, every lap of his tongue against you. it protruded out just right so you could grind yourself on it, desperate to find your high. ‘you can drop the act, get me there baby..’ escaped you as higuruma doubled down his efforts. 

“the next case starts in five minutes, my love…” 

he murmured against your cunt, one of his hands sliding underneath the zipper of his fabric to tug at himself. his lax eyes wandered up to your face, dependent on how you felt– needed you to feel heavenly in the next five minutes or there were going to be repercussions– 

the way the men would walk into the silken courtroom, see both of you against his desk; oh jesus you don’t know what would that get you; but it got you off enough that you spasmed around his tongue. a harsh groan sounded from underneath you, higuruma mucking the inside of his trousers with cum and you sighed contently as the stain formed. 

let’s see how long until the judge notices.

❝sub!nanami…❞ who is known to be submissive as long as he could take it.

who hesitantly lets you tie him up, the black and white print coaxing his wrists to struggle against and he’d periodically check his watch when he could. you knew nanami could barely read it without fully bringing his arm down and your heart expanded as he started to sweat– 

being late to work wouldn’t be the issue anymore, it was how long until he could cum from the feeling of your fingers massaging his prostate like you needed to lick them clean. 

“enough– baby, you found it, wasn’t that your mission?”

and hell yeah it was your mission. but more importantly, how long would it take for the kento nanami to break within the palms of your hands, unfiltered and raw? the man always put up a stoic front, and veiled within the calmness a sad truth that you couldn’t possibly uncover. but what would it take to completely tear that down; to see him squeeze your fingers so hard from the shock of milking his cock and prostate dry?

precum dribbled from the crown of his cock as you had him on all fours, the silk sheets getting absolutely filthy underneath him. you’d been doing this a while and every time you had the notion to stop, he’d tense and a quiet moan would bestow you. nanami was slowly starting to crack, his muscles starting to clench as he held himself up and heaved his pleasure. 

when you curled your finger downwards, he flinched violently and cum leaked out of him in long spurts– a drawn out groan sounding like music to your ears and you knew you found your technique. his hands seized each other within his tie that threaded them together as he came undone in front of you and you continued rubbing the nub that you felt inside his hole. suddenly, he was pleading– pretty little groans enunciating his words as he gasped out. 

“hold on– going to cum again..please wait–!”

could you possibly make him cum dry? that was a new mission, the thought fleeting as he buried his face into his forearm, biting down hard on himself before another groan eluded him and cum painted his chest white. maybe, you could even get him to squirt if you were careful enough.

“can’t take it– y/n..”

“please, i’m begging…need to go to work–”

and oh, if only you let up. your fingers plunged inside his hole with more fervor, two rubbing incessantly against his nub and he let out a whine– hot and urgent with his entire body convulsing each time you tapped at it. nanami arched his back forward, practically so far his ass was in the air and begging for you to take it with a graceful tongue. before you really thought about it, you decided to give it a run for its money and lap at his rim. 

his cock twitched so hard it bobbed against his tummy, hard and neglected as he whimpered out curses– some you never would’ve thought came out of his poised mouth. only when he was on missions did he talk that dirtily, curses being scared shitless by the sheer size of him and running away as soon as his voice reverberated death upon them. 

but this was an entirely different scenario. 

you nearly thought he was going to rip his tie in half if it wasn’t for his restraint, his hands opening and balling into fists every time you took a particularly long lick at his rim. your fingers never stopped their movements– needing to coax out at least one dry orgasm from him. you could savor it– get him to cry, push more than three fingers inside and just let yourself loose but you decided against it. 

instead, you pulled out completely and that got you what you so desperately craved. you could just about barely notice it, his cock pulsing and quivering but it was clear from the way he clenched around nothing for a few seconds, his whole body wrecked from the orgasm. nanami was so noisy, his forearm didn’t muffle the moans that sputtered out of him.

praises leaked from your mouth as you hovered over nanami as he gave way to his body on the bed. his legs splayed outwards and you untied his tie from his hands, rubbing the bruises that equated his wrists and kissed them softly. you littered kisses downwards onto the back of his shoulder, rubbing at his sides with gentle words protruding through the thick air– “baby, work starts soon. don’t want you to go,” which led to the murmur of agreement from the fazed man to your surprise.

❝sub!kashimo…❞ whose submissive enough that you think you made a mistake. 

you thought you had the wrong man at first– a high pitched squeak leaving him as you straddled him in the midst of his speech. he was talking too fucking much– the pretty octaves in his voice sending you into spirals. you observed the way his throat bobbed, oughting to bite and mark it with utmost importance and you couldn’t stop yourself from mouthing at it as you brought him closer to you. 

kashimo immediately whimpered out at the first contact of your lips, his own falling open as you took control of the situation. his eyes danced over the swell of your thighs hugging him, practically already hard and leaking in his pants for you as you ground down on him. 

“yes.. right there– fuck me up, y/n…” 

he sounded so fucked out already, desperate need laced within his voice as he huffed out a breath. he remained still, tensed up as you did all the work– his head tilting back and his hands digging into the plush of the couch. you really don’t remember what was happening prior; all that was on your mind was how pretty kashimo would be underneath you, gasping for air. 

your hand pressed against his bulge, hard and emitting as you pushed yourself back onto his knees, a ‘whine for me, kash–’ leaving your lips. 

cyan flashed within your sight as he brought his head back up, a muffled moan leaving him as he surged forward to let you swallow it. the purple streaks crinkled as his eyes shut, relaxing from the press of your lips against him and all he could think of how fucking malleable he was for you– how he wanted to show you everything and so much more but his head spun with electricity spanning throughout it as he practically short-circuited. 

“fuck..can’t think straight… let me help?” 

his hand pushed his robed shirt up, the waistband folding downwards and he freed himself. you wrapped your fingers around his exposed cock as kashimo encompassed his hand your own and you watched as his chest heaved while gaping down at how small it was in comparison.

how small they looked compared to his cock that sat flushed within. 

his once haughty regard had been replaced with pure need, a pout fringing his face and you kissed at it which made him melt in your arms as you started to slowly drag your hand against him. kashimo’s fingers tightened, his nails raking into your skin as his mouth opened in your kiss with a raspy whimper. he arched into you, his hips stuttering to your touch as you thumbed the beaded head. 

you never knew how pliant kashimo was– whether he wanted to take you with the anger that resided in his preservation or if he wanted you to fully just flip the switch. and it seemed like you were in for it. from the surface he seemed so unruly, relinquishing his hold on himself as soon as you licked a mark into his neck. and god, did he look so pretty with a necklace of them. 

breathy moans reached the shell of your ear as he managed to bury his face within your neck, too sensitive to watch you pump his cock shallowly now. 

and suddenly kashimo was begging into the salt of your skin as you quickened your pace. his fingers clenched around the cushions and shot up to hold you steady as the other ones around your hand and his cock followed the pace. he shuddered– shook so bad that you couldn’t possibly escape the thought that this was the sorcerer who cavorted with the sky’s limit, reduced to nothing but a shaking mess when his cock was played with. 

“f-feels so good, mm– need you so bad.”

“let me sink into you– please, i’ll be so good for you.”

you contemplated it, how good it’d feel to squeeze around him and pin him down by his shoulders against the velvet. how you could bury your hands into his hair and unravel the small bands from their tight spaces and let his turquoise hair fully down. 

how fucking delicious he would be raking his cock against your walls with fervor and all you’d have to do is watch him crumble underneath you. but with the way your fingers slicked him, it seemed like he’d cum the instant his cock vanished within your cunt. 

yeah you’d make the electrified man cum from the static of your fingers instead.

❝sub!toji…❞ who isn’t submissive– unless you paid him.

his chest would heave, eyes unfocused on the television in the background as you adjusted the fleshlight right at the tip, leaving it there to steady yourself on your haunches. “toji, are you even paying attention?”

and you knew he wasn’t, the pliant ‘yeah, babe..’ feigning ignorance as you sunk the silicone down onto his cock, a hiss escaping him. his eyes would flit over to you, a blush spread over his cheeks and suddenly you needed more from him than just a sucked in breath. 

you needed to make him cry big sobs for the fleshlight– for your cunt and you certainly knew how to get that show. your wallet spoke wonders to the gambler, milking itself dry at times when he was around to get him to do your every bidding. so why wouldn’t it work with this type of thing?

his hands would be tucked against his chest, his legs parted for you with one knee up and your wallet empty against the bed. there wasn’t enough money in the world for toji to cry tears for you; that was fucking funny. but he could at least give you enough of a show to make you satisfied. 

“oh, right– fuuuck, y/n– squeeze it around me.”

the silicone dripped at the top, the hole of it being completely consumed by the massive length of his cock and you sat against his calf rigidly as his eyes started to flutter underneath your touch. you didn’t think he’d actually succumb to your every need but it was certainly fucking hot– to see his muscles contract underneath his black compress shirt, every square inch of him tensing with every pull and clench of the toy.

toji’d hold back too, you knew your man. soft huffs would fill the room aside from the claps from the television (you really needed to mute that), and his cock would twitch every so often as you held the fleshlight firm against him. 

your hand would stop every so often, watching his face contort with frustration just as he was getting close. he was beginning to sweat, the intensity of his orgasm drawing near and suddenly not– it made his bangs stick to his forehead and hot breaths came out of him. toji’s whole body was starting to feel hot and a faded red flushed his face and his cock; he was finally starting to feel the side effects.

the aphrodisiac in the can of soda wasn’t that potent but it sure hit him like a truck. money well spent. 

“y/n– did you drug me, shit– keep it right there…”

“please–please, i’ll do anything you say. let me fuck up into the toy…”

and you wouldn’t let him, slicking the fleshlight fully off his cock and replacing it with your mouth. you were easy on him, just letting your tongue slide up the underside and towards the crown. you could feel him squirm, bucking up into your mouth but your hands pressed down onto his hips cruelly and the rugged man actually yelped.

toji was fucking desperate now– for you to do anything, but your mouth stayed in the same place, warming him and occasionally flicking your tongue against him like a goddamn tease. his brain was fogging incoherently from the drug and defeated whines fell from his lips, his eyebrows furrowing and his jaw lax lips parted. he couldn’t do anything else but beg.

“pleaseplease oh my god, give me some relief baby…need it so bad–!” 

the sensation was too much and as soon as you hollowed out your cheeks, he was cumming down your throat with an ‘oh, god, yes–’ through gritted teeth and you practically sense the fucked out smile that sent shivers down your spine. toji swallowed his moans down the second you pulled off but a tremble wracked his body. 

and suddenly he was pleading again– his big hands taking your wrists and trying to get you to pump his cock dry and a feral expression written on his face. his words evaded him as you picked up the fleshlight again and his hips immediately reacted, twitching harshly as you sunk it back down on his reddened angry cock. his eyes slid into the back of his head, the whites of his eyes twitching as he held himself up on his forearms now. he fishmouthed a few times, trying not to muster up the wretched whines that escaped him but failing miserably. 

and how pretty toji’s whines were when he wasn’t such an arrogant asshole to you– how blissfully unaware he was from the edging he was about to endure. he had no fucking clue that your mission was about to be fulfilled, the tears soon to be rimming his eyes as he sobbed for another release. 

god, when he gets ahold of you after this– he’d make you sob.