#oh hello...

your feet drag over each of their thighs, nearly under their sacks, breathless laughter spilling from you when they buck at your fleeting touch.

"f-fuck, don't do that," pants the white-haired man jerking into his fist, and when you tut about how much of a baby he's being, he gnaws at his lips lips and shuts his eyes.

with jock!satosugu, it always ends up a disaster. you start apart, though barely, keeping your hands from wandering. it never ends that way, and it's debatable to you if they're just friends. do friends help bob a mouth up and down each other's cocks, lips on each others ears, words thick and lost in translation?

"doesn't it just feel incredible"—satoru's wide hands fist your hair and plunge your face to nuzzle suguru's pelvis, over and over—"when she gags like that? doesn't it?"

does satoru ever stop talking? you can't tell if his friend is annoyed at the breathy stream of throaty whispers in his ear as you take him deeper. his brows are furrowed, glistening lips parted when you heave into his pubes, fingers balled into the sheets at his sides. if he's digesting the murmurs egging him on, it doesn't show on his face. he'll sometimes lurch against your tongue—for some reason, it's always when satoru leans into his neck—but it's probably coincidental. satoru is so close, lucid eyes bouncing between your valiant struggle and suguru.

every time suguru lets out a grunt, dark lashes fluttering, hips rocking, satoru's cock twitches against his leg, like seeing his friend in such disarray is equally as arousing as you, attempting to swallow him with the push of a pair of hands.

"isn't she cute like this?" he prods, cheeks blushing and chest heaving with tangible arousal. his lips skim suguru's ear, the peachy-pink shell of it, as he mutters, "god—look, she can barely fit you in her mouth. isn't that—"

his words are shadowed by the loud, eager groan that breaks from suguru as his fingers fly to your scalp to keep you steady. it's almost cute—they're holding hands on your head as his balls jump against your chin and his bittersweet release floods your throat. your vision blurs from the tears budding at your lashes, but you swear they lock eyes when he comes—that their gazes caress each other in a languid, heady gesture.

when you pull off, drooling and breaths heavy, satoru tugs at your chin from between his fingers and kisses you, tongue meshing with yours, scraping your teeth for a taste of his friend. he urges your face down into his lap with an almost fond swipe of his thumb over your cheek.

jock!satosugu and how they complete each other in a way that's comical.

satoru is unreserved and unabashed as you take him into your warm mouth, nothing like suguru and his coarse, filthy words and lidded eyes and firmness. no—satoru is whining out into your dorm, abdomen clenching helplessly as your tongue traces each drippy nook and pulsing vein decorating his member.

the wreckage comes from suguru's hand on his thigh. his jaw goes slack and the jewels of his gaze roll to his friend. you're abandoned between them, a stimulant while they share something. suguru is more mindful of you when he nudges you farther along the dick that bumps the roof of your mouth than his best friend was, keeping your hair from falling into the mix, letting you pull of for a breather.

a crooked grin quirks his face each time you reflexively knock back when he presses too deep in you and suguru's hand keeps you steady. you can't help it—you moan around his flushed shaft.

"move faster—suguru, move her faster. please," satoru begs, his own hands snaking across your skin, holding the sides of your face. "more, fuck, take more."

his movements unravel, rough and choppy like treacherous waters. he becomes more overt the closer he gets to the brink; what was a passing graze becomes interlinked fingers that cover his friend's, his gasps hot and uneven as he pistons into your mouth. it's hard to resist him like this—he's pushy and sweet, all quiet, teasing giggles and mean smacks of his balls against your chin, desperate and the first person to admit it.

"c'mon, y'can take it, right? 'm so fucking close. shit, gotta cum. stay there. suguru—"

the jostling of your head is completely their will as he careens toward his climax, forgetful of your need for bigger gulps of air and your gag reflex. when he releases, he pushes you all the way down, mewling, torso crumbling over your quivering frame.

it snowballs into a fucked-out scene with jock!satosugu. your panties pulled down your legs, the way you fumble to where they sat as they kneel before you, diving down from the high you gave them but frenetic and spurred on by the thought of getting you off. it's one thing to be used, and another thing entirely to use them back.

their preference for raunchy irreverence is appreciated; the sides of your clit drip with their slobber as their tongues lave each side of it, their lips meeting at the crossroads of your clenching hole, groans lost in your wet heat. their contrasting eyelashes move gingerly every time they look up at you, testing the waters, seeing what breaks you.

they each hold your thighs open, smearing their spit and your arousal on your tender flesh, your face a mess in its own right. you clap a hand over your mouth when they both kitten lick at the sensitive bead of your center, your feet dragging across their broad shoulders, toes curling and sight fuzzy.

"she's so sensitive right here," suguru purrs, thumbing your folds open, nosing your sensitive spot, satoru helping to inspect you. "look how she clenches when you just—"

the tip of satoru's tongue rubs over you, all pulled back and exposed for them, and you dig your nails into the tufts of white hair covering his head, keening, as their soft, breathy laughter rumbles against you.

as their fingers delve into your opening, you make note of a few things: the stickiness webbing their chins together, how dark and wide their pupils both are, the look on the faces of the students in your neighboring dorm when they see you tomorrow morning, most likely.

how little that matters when you're this close to coming undone.

"think she likes you more, satoru," teases suguru, a feline smile on his lips. "she's going to pull your hair out."

it's a fight for dominance, seeking your end, when satoru is insistent on being a brat and making you earn every step. he lazily works around where you crave him most until the handful of hair you hold becomes tight, your hand yanking him right against you, rhythm a bit jagged until you find what feels good as you ride his face. he groans and keeps his tongue out and snickers at how controlling you get when you're like this, all demanding and gushing.

[his dick swells with heart eyes when you use him like this because it makes him feel owned <3]

his dark haired friend busies himself with nibbles over your thigh and hooking his fingers inside you, but satoru is the one you're watching as you come; you keep him locked against your cunt as you cry out, holding him like he held you, and he goes limp, becomes brazenly willing and pliable, croaks of pleasure the only sounds he makes. if only you could see the way he's palming his hardening, spit-soaked cock, delirious with you pushed into his face, using him for your satisfaction.