Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Having new men in the house has taken some getting used to.

It used to just be you and your mom, on your own but living your best lives. Now that she’s gotten serious with her new fiance, though, he’s officially moved in, bringing his college-aged son to come live with you all over the summer.

You’re taking summer classes at the local community college, trying to graduate with your bachelor’s early. Thankfully, this means you don’t have to spend much time with your new “family members.”

Which is a blessing, because you think you’ve got a little crush on your new step-brother.

You know it’s wrong; you know. Your mother is marrying his dad, and here you are catching feelings for her step-son. But you can’t help it; he’s charming in that bad boy kind of way, the way that makes your heart seize up like there’s danger around the corner. He’s tatted up all over, and his smile is all canines, and his red eyes stare into yours like he can see the filthy thoughts you have of him.

It’s only when you touch yourself in the silence of your bedroom that you get any relief.

You’ve got your pretty, pink, silicone dildo stuffed inside your pussy, one hand gripping the base as you pump it slowly in and out to avoid making too much noise. You would rather die than be caught with this fake dick stuffed inside you as the fingers of the other hand draw tight little circles on your clit. Your breathing is starting to hitch, and every time the soft tip of the dildo hits your g-spot you hear yourself get even wetter. You feel yourself clench around the silicone shaft, arousal starting to pool at the base as you go a little harder, hoping no one can hear–

Then your door swings open, and you squeak as you pull the blankets up over your body, eyes going wide.

Sukuna stands there in your doorway, a predatory grin on his face. His crimson eyes rake over your form under the sheets, and he leans his shoulder against the doorframe before his eyes finally find yours.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, his voice deep and alluring.

“Oh my god, get out!” you squeal.

He chuckles, and instead of doing what you shout at him to do, he stands up straight and comes into your bedroom.

He kicks the door shut, and turns to lock it. You gulp.

He walks over like a tiger stalking its prey, his eyes heavy-lidded. Slowly, he reaches down until his palm presses over your belly through the blankets. Then his hand slides up, up your tummy, up your sternum between your breasts, and grips the edge of the blanket.

Without further warning, he rips the blankets away, throwing them towards the foot of the bed. Revealing your bare legs, which are clenched together in embarrassment, and the pink dildo now discarded to the side of your hips. It’s still coated in your arousal, dripping onto the mattress below, and his eyes take in the sight with ravenous eyes.

Then he looks back up at you and smirks. “So, you were really enjoying yourself, huh? You get this wet just by yourself?” And with that he places his hands on your knees and pries apart your thighs, exposing your swollen, dripping pussy to the cool air of your room. You gasp at the cold sensation on the heat of your core, and his smirk widens as he slides one tattooed hand down the inside of your thigh. “Can I feel how wet you are?”

You stammer, “W-we shouldn’t–”

He hums, hand no longer sliding towards the apex of your thighs. Instead, he massages small circles into your leg, slow and soothing. “Why’s that, pretty?”

Pretty. Your heart squeezes at the compliment. You shake your head to try and clear your head. “Our parents–!” you stress, trying to close your legs.

He tsks playfully and swats your thigh, a quick smack! to keep you from moving. You whimper and freeze under his hand. “They don’t have to know,” he says, like it’s obvious.

“But, it’s wrong…” you explain, glancing away.

He leans in closer, so his face is above yours, his scarlet eyes pinning you in place with a serious stare. “It’s wrong to want you?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. “It’s wrong to want my hands on you, to fuck you like somebody should? Is that wrong, pretty girl? Then tell me, who were you thinking about when you were touching yourself? Whose name was on your mind while you were fucking yourself with that stupid dildo, instead of the dick you really want?”

You flush deeply at his words, because he’s right. You were thinking about him, chanting his name in your mind while you rubbed your clit and fucked yourself stupid. Now you’re left with nothing to say in your defense, staring up at him like prey stares at its hunter.

There’s a sharp, dangerous gleam in his eyes as he looks back at you. “Besides,” he continues, his voice hushed as his hand slowly continues its earlier traversal down your thigh and towards your core. “Our parents aren’t married yet, so it’s fine. I can touch you as much as I want. As much as you want.”

You squirm, but instead of putting his hand where you want it, giving you what you were silently begging for, he moves his hand to the side. You whine wordlessly, hips shifting on the bed, and he shushes you before wrapping his fingers around the base of your dildo. “But first,” he says, placing the silicone shaft into your hand, “I want to see you fuck yourself for me. Show me exactly how you like it.”

You whimper. “No, Sukuna–” but his steely gaze leaves little room for argument. So you slowly spread your thighs and reach down, placing the tip of the toy right to your entrance. Your eyes flicker up to meet his, making sure he really wants this, really wants to see you, really wants you to pleasure yourself while he’s standing right there.

He nods, licking his teeth. You shiver under his gaze. Your hand shifts, tilting at the wrist, and with one slow, steady slide, you push the dildo inside your drooling cunt.

Your body arches off the bed, pleasure crackling up your spine like electricity. You were already close when he walked into your bedroom, your clit throbbing and your pussy clenching. Now that he’s watching you, encouraging you to pump your dildo in and out, squeezing your thigh and whispering filthy encouragement (that’s it, pretty, just like that, take that toy like a good girl), your walls are already fluttering. You reach your other hand down to rub your clit, small lines up and down in that perfect spot that’ll send you right over the edge.

His hand on yours stops you.

You look up at him, betrayal written in the depths of your gaze, a small whimper escaping from between your lips. He grins and shakes his head. “No cumming,” he tells you, voice firm. “Not until I tell you to.”

You whine again, thighs shaking because you’re so desperate to just cum. But you follow his instructions, slowing down the pace of your hands as you continue fucking yourself towards the edge.

You watch him slowly lower his sweatpants and pull out his cock.

It’s huge; bigger even than your dildo, with pretty veins trailing up and down the length. The head is blushed pink, and he gives the base a gentle squeeze before slowly starting to jerk himself off to the sight of you masturbating.

The sight of him touching himself nearly sends you over the edge. It’s a good thing he grabs your hand to stop you once more.

“Not yet,” he purrs, his voice so terribly nasty as he starts up a faster pace, fucking his own fist with his eyes glued to your filled pussy. His breathing is starting to pick up, hips starting to stutter. “Still not yet…”

Your mouth falls open in a wide “O,” eyes rolling back– you can’t take much more of this, oh god, you need to cum. Your thighs tremble, body threatening to shatter apart as you work yourself higher and higher–

“Now,” he grunts, and he spills his cum all over your thighs. At his command, you orgasm in tandem with him, your cunt clenching around your toy as you rub your clit with shaky fingers. You let out a soft little sob, so quiet only he can hear, right there in your bedroom.

He groans at the sound, watching your pussy flutter around the dildo. Then, once he has stopped spurting cum and you’ve come down from your high, both of you catching your breath, he licks his lips and lets out a soft, derisive laugh.

“Fucking filthy thing,” he purrs, coming closer, shoving his sweats down to his ankles and kicking them off. “Cumming like that while I’m watching. You want me to fuck you, huh? Want your step-bro to help you out?”

You whine, nodding desperately. Hands already reaching for him, begging him to come closer. You’re still twitching from your orgasm, your tummy fluttering as he puts a hand on your thigh and pushes it to the side. He still has one hand on his cock, stroking to get himself fully hard again. Then he climbs up into bed, right between your opened thighs.

He tilts his hips forward, dragging the tip of his cock across your slick folds as he gathers up your arousal as lubricant. He’s thick and heavy against your entrance, already stretching you open as he starts to push forward. He’s not gentle or loving, but he is slow, giving you time to adjust as he breaches your quivering, aching cunt.

You moan as he bottoms out, balls-deep inside you, pelvis flush against yours. He grits his teeth at the intensity of the sensation, his forehead coming down to rest against yours for a moment as he breathes through it. Then he grabs behind your knees and hauls up your legs until they’re thrown over his shoulder. His pelvis is pressed against your ass, and he pulls back until just the tip of his dick is still inside. Then he slams forward, and you unwittingly let out a cry at how brutal his thrust is.

He slaps a hand over your mouth, and both of you go still, freezing in fear that your parents will come to see what the noise was about.

You give it a minute or two, and when no one comes to knock on your door, both of you slowly relax. He removes his hand from your mouth and whispers, “Can you be quiet?”

You nod desperately; you need him to move. You’re dying just warming him like this, just keeping him inside while he stares down at you, brow furrowed in anxiety at the prospect of being caught.

He takes your nod as enthusiastic affirmation, and when he thrusts into you again, it’s no less violent than it was last time. This time, it’s your own hand that flies up to cover your mouth as your back bows off the bed, arching into his chest. He pulls back before slamming his hips against yours again, and again, and again, until you’re sobbing against your hand, gazing up at him with a broken, teary gaze.

He grins down at you, panting, as he fucks you into oblivion. “Fuck, I could watch you like this all day. You wanna cum again?”

You nod, teeth sinking into your palm as you stifle your moans. Your thighs are quivering against his chest, but he just holds you tighter and forces you to take it. “Come on, then,” he demands, chest heaving as he tilts his head back in pleasure. “Cum for me. Cum on this cock, filthy thing.”

With another smothered cry, you do, whimpering his name as he fucks you through it. And your orgasm forces another one from him, too, milking him dry as your fluttering walls squeeze him tighter and tighter.

He cums inside you, filling you up, and when he finally kisses you for the first time, he whispers a promise to you that it won’t be the last.

Chapter Text

“Heyyyy, Choso,” you sing, coming up to him in the library. Your skirt sways with your movements as you stand before his desk. “It’s good to see you!”

“Shh,” he whispers, glancing around at the surrounding students.

You look around, too, finding that they’re giving you the stink eye. You huff and lower your voice. “Choso, thanks for doing this for me. I would totally fail my exam on Friday if you didn’t help!”

He smiles softly and nods, his expression almost shy. All this time tutoring you, and he still can’t quite meet your eyes. An adorable little blush colors his cheeks, and you giggle softly, twirling your hair.

You know you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

You slide into the seat next to him, and his blush burns deeper, redder. You giggle again and pull your Intro Bio textbook out of your backpack. You flip through the pages until you reach the chapter you’re studying: genetics.

Why in god’s name do you need to know punnet squares?

You take out your notes from the lecture and huff as you set them down on the table before you. “I just don’t get it!” you say indignantly. “How am I supposed to draw a family tree from stuff I don’t know?”

“Here,” he says, grabbing your notebook and a pen. “It’s easy; I’ll show you.”

So you spend the next hour and a half trying to figure out inheritance patterns and genetic traits, and though you’re not sure you understand, you do learn enough to complete your homework assignment. You just hope your little study session helps you enough to pass the exam on Friday.

Once you’re done, you start packing up your things. “Thanks, Cho,” you say, and you lean in and kiss his furiously blushing cheek. “I owe you one.”

He stammers, “U-uh, what are you doing this weekend?” He looks like he wants to smack himself for his awkward delivery of an otherwise smooth question.

You giggle, smiling at him. “I have a date! That guy from our history class, Naoya! He’s a total hottie, I can’t wait!”

At the news, Choso’s expression seems to flatten. “Naoya?” he asks. Then he shakes his head and offers another small smile, though it’s much less convincing this time. “That’s nice.” Then he digs into his backpack. “I forgot, I made these for our study session.” He pulls out a bag with cookies in them.

“Aww, Cho, you’re such a sweetheart,” you coo, placing another kiss on his cheek. He doesn’t blush like he did last time. “Hope these aren’t fun-time cookies,” you giggle, knowing that he’s not the type to put weed in any of his baked goods. He’s too button-up for that.

He just smiles and offers one to you. You take it and nibble on it, humming in appreciation. “These are good!” You take another for the road. “Thanks!”

You can feel his eyes on you as you walk away, waving over your shoulder. He just waves back, letting you leave the library.

And then, your vision starts to close in, and before you’re even halfway back to the dorms, your eyes close and you collapse.

Just in time for someone to catch you.

You wake up tied to a bedpost.

You lift your hazy, weary head, blinking away the bleariness in your gaze. You look around, lids heavy, taking in your unfamiliar surroundings. You don’t recognize the room you’re in, but you can tell that it’s a dorm room by the shitty carpet and dinged up furniture. You’re sitting on the floor, with your wrists bound to the bedpost, and your ankles tied together.

Right as you try to force your wrists apart, a familiar voice says, “I wouldn’t do that.”

Your head whips around, and you see Choso lounging on his bed, hands clasped in his lap. Your eyes widen, and you try to shrink away from him, but the ropes on your wrists keep you from moving too far away. You stare at him for a moment, and then you shriek, “Choso what the hell?!”

He cringes at your shout, but doesn’t move. He says, “You were going to go on a date with that…” His expression darkens. “That swine, Naoya.”

“And so you kidnapped me?” You’re still yelling. You fight against the ropes binding you to the bedpost once more. “What the hell is wrong with you? Let me go!”

He sighs and shakes his head. “I can’t do that. I can’t let you go with him. You’re mine.” He says it with a growl so low you don’t even recognize his voice.

You shiver at his tone, but you try to continue acting tough. “I am not yours, Choso! You had no right to take me! Or drug me! Or do anything without my consent!”

He huffs, shaking his head. “You don’t understand. I’m saving you a lot of heartache, a lot of hurt.”

Your eyes blaze as you glare at him. “And what if I had no expectations for him? What if I just wanted to fuck him? What if he never would’ve had my heart in the first place? You didn’t think about that, did you?” Your voice pitches higher, though if it’s in anger or panic, you’re not sure.

His eyes darken once more at that, and he grits his teeth as he snaps, “Don’t you dare say that! I said you’re mine, sweetie, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. I just had to remind you who you belong to, see?” And with that he stands, his leg brushing against your upper arm as he goes. You shrink away from the contact.

He goes to the closet and takes out a small binder – a photo album, you realize as he opens it, letting the transparent sleeves flutter. But as he turns it to show you, your stomach drops to your feet.

Inside, there are pictures of you – dozens of them. Candids, selfies, pictures you took together while you were pretending to flirt with him to get him to tutor you for free. All of them compiled into a collage of obsession, of infatuation, of delusion.

Your eyes widen at the sight, and you look from the album back to Choso. His eyes are earnest, wide open, like he’s expecting you to be happy, to be flattered by the display.

You feel sick to your stomach. But you swallow the bile that threatens to rise and offer a wobbly, wary smile.

You’re afraid he will kill you if you don’t.

You’ve seen this sort of thing on television, where a man becomes so obsessed with someone that he deludes himself into thinking they’re together. And you think, maybe it was partially your fault, too, stringing him along like that. Using him just to better your grades and then shoving it back in his face.

Maybe it’s your fault you’re in this situation.

So you just smile and say, “Oh, Cho, that’s… that’s so great.”

He’s practically beaming. “You think so, right? You really think I’m good enough for you. You love me back, I know you do.”

You fight away a grimace; love was never something you were trying to look for. Especially from someone like Choso. But you nod, still smiling, and say, “Y-yeah, I… I do.”

He grins and kneels down beside you, taking your cheeks between his hands. He cups them gently, gazing into your eyes; his own are a lovely chestnut brown, so wide and earnest you can almost pretend he didn’t kidnap you and tie you up in his dorm room. “I’m glad you’re seeing reason, sweetie,” he says, his thumbs brushing against your skin, and you have to hold back a shiver of revulsion. “It means that we can just enjoy ourselves, that we can go back to how things used to be, right?”

You nod eagerly, hoping that this means he’ll let you go.

But, of course, you were naive to think that. Now that he has you – now that he knows what it’s like to make you his – he won’t be letting you go.

“Come on, little girl,” Choso breathes, pushing open your thighs to get a good look at the pastel pink panties he put you in, “let me taste you.”

He's got you on his mattress now, wrists tied over your head to one of the bedposts. His dark eyes are intense, watching you with rapt interest. You squirm and whimper, trying to push him away, and you have to resort to shoving him away from you with your legs. He catches the movement, though, and forces them apart again. He gazes up at you from between them, his eyes hardening.

“I thought you said you’d be a good girl,” he chides quietly, his voice rumbling from deep in his chest. One of his large hands strokes up and down your thigh, clearly aiming to be soothing, but how could anything he do comfort you when he’s the one who took you away from your life and keeps you tied up in this shitty dorm room?

But then his touch trails higher, just barely brushing the gusset of your pink panties, and fuck why does that have to feel good when it’s him?

He’s staring between your legs again, watching the pink fabric slowly grow damp with your arousal. He huffs a small laugh and leans in, breath fanning over your core. Your legs threaten to close again, but he just pries them apart once more.

“Be good,” he rumbles, and then he leans down to press a kiss to your messy, drooling cunt through your underwear.

You gasp, back arching up from the bed, hands bound over your head. “Choso–” you pant, hips tilting, trying to run away from the mystifying pleasure that he’s giving you.

He growls, deep in his chest. “What did I say to call me, sweetie?”

You shiver, chest already heaving. “Daddy,” you whisper, eyes squeezing shut in shame. 

“That’s right,” he whispers back, his hand slowly trailing up your thigh. “Say it again.”

You swallow your pride and whisper it again. “Daddy.”

He groans, lashes fluttering as his eyes close. “Fuck, little girl, that’s it. Gonna cum just from you saying it.” His hand finally reaches the gusset of your panties, and he brushes his fingers against it again, gathering your slick on the fabric, creating a growing wet spot there.

You whimper at the contact, hips grinding down into his hand now instead of tilting away, chasing the pleasure he’s slowly offering you. His fingers dip into the fabric and pull it aside, finally revealing your pretty pussy to his eyes. You can hear his breath catch in his chest.

“Fuck, sweetie,” he says, one finger brushing the seam of your lips, sliding through slick arousal. Your hips jolt at the gentle touch. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

And then he leans in and presses a kiss there, and you can’t believe a loser like him, a nerd who you were just using to tutor you, knows how to eat pussy like a starving man. He makes out with your cunt, tongue slipping between your folds like it’s sliding into your mouth. Then, when the tip of his tongue brushes your clit, he focuses there for a moment, flicking it lightly with a gentle touch.

Then he goes back to kissing your lower lips, teasing you, taunting you. It’s not fair; you can’t even fight back, grab his hair and force him into your pussy, because your hands are still bound above your head. Instead, you just try to grind your hips against his mouth, hoping he can tell by your moans and cries that you need more.

He smirks against your cunt and looks up at you, whispering, “If you need something, you just need to ask daddy, sweetie.”

You whine, back arching again. “Please, daddy, eat me out. Put your tongue inside, lick my clit, anything. I need it, I need–” And before you can continue to beg, he’s already heeding your request, his tongue brushing against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves before he dives into your cunt, tongue plunging inside to taste your sweetness right from the source. He groans, the sound rumbling and vibrating against your pussy, and you cry out again, fingers curling into fists.

Then, once he has thrusted his tongue inside you a few times, he returns to your clit, this time sucking lightly while flicking his tongue against it. “Like this, baby girl?” he whispers before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking again.

“Oh, yes!” you cry, hips rocking against his face. “Please, please,” you beg, nearly sobbing at the intense sensations he’s giving you. “Please, lemme cum, daddy, please–”

He nods, chestnut eyes locked on yours as he watches you slowly fray at the seams, coming apart at the edges. You look so beautiful like this, so close to cumming in his mouth, that he can’t help but rut his hips against the mattress, humping the bed as he continues eating you out with fervor.

He moans into your pussy, his own cock pulsing in his pants. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, slurping at your clit, fingers digging into the plush flesh of your thighs. “God, you taste so good, little girl, so fucking good for daddy. You gonna cum on my face? Gonna cum for daddy?”

You nod desperately, nails leaving crescent imprints on your palms as you clench your fists. “Yes, daddy!” you whine, still grinding against his tongue.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he says, voice muffled by your thighs on either side of his head. “Cum for me.”

So you do, white hot pleasure shooting through you all the way out to your fingertips. Your back arches off the bed, and you writhe in place, cunt quivering and clenching around his tongue as he continues to lick you through it.

And as you cum in his mouth, he ruts once more against the mattress and cums right there, untouched by either your or his hand. He should find it in himself to be embarrassed, but he’s not; he can only be proud that he made someone as perfect, as beautiful, as you cum with his tongue.

So as the wet spot in his sweatpants starts to form and spread, drenching the sheets, he just gazes up at you, enjoying the sight of your bliss.

And as you watch him watch you – for just a moment – you can’t remember why you’re supposed to be resisting him at all.

Chapter Text

"No, Satoru, you're not allowed to cum yet."

Satoru is lying on his back, thighs spread as you kneel between them, sucking gently on his balls as Suguru slowly strokes his cock. He’s already leaking, lubricating Suguru’s slow, methodical movements, while your spit joins the mess and collects on his pelvis. Satoru’s hips cant forward into each movement that Suguru makes, trying to thrust himself deeper into his hand.

At that, Suguru yanks sharply on the chain connected to the clamps adorning Satoru’s nipples, and he lets out a cry as his body writhes and bucks.

“Suguru,” he whimpers, the sharp ache in his chest sending pleasure arching up his spine, “not fair.”

Suguru’s voice is calm, even, like he’s not rock hard at the sight of Satoru squirming beneath him. “Was playing that prank on our pretty baby here ‘fair,’ Satoru?”

Satoru whines, tossing his head back. “Was just a stupid joke–”

“You hurt her feelings; you made her cry. Doesn’t sound like a joke to me.” And with that, Suguru gives a punishing squeeze to his length, hard enough to make Satoru gasp and whine again.

Truthfully, when Satoru came into the kitchen one night while you were cooking and puffed flour in your face and all over your favorite outfit, you didn’t really cry because of the prank alone. It was the culmination of stress from work that day, dealing with your parents, and your own emotional instability (likely due to your cycle) that truly set you off. But the prank was the last straw, and when Suguru walked in to see Satoru cradling your sobbing form, frantically telling you he didn’t mean to make you cry, Suguru decided he needed to pay up for upsetting you.

He needed to be punished.

And really, you’re just along for the ride.

You take one of his heavy, breeding balls into your mouth and give a harsh little suck, to which Satoru lets out a choked, “Nghh!” and pitches his hips forward, trying to run from the heat of your mouth.

That simply earns him another tug on the nipple clamps from Suguru, which elicits another cry from between his lips.

"Say you're sorry," Suguru demands, in that sweet purr of his.

"I-I'm sorry," babbles Satoru, teeth gritted as you continue to slobber all over him. "I'm— fuck!— sorry!"

Suguru looks down at you, raising one perfect eyebrow, violet eyes almost amused. "What do you say, sweetheart? You believe him?"

You nod, coming up to pant for breath as you spit on Satoru's cock, letting it dribble down towards Suguru's hand, lubricating his movements further as he continues to slowly stroke. Satoru whimpers again, his head thrown back as his chest rises and falls, each movement lightly tugging on those clamps on his nipples.

"Please," he rasps, lashes fluttering, "wanna cum."

"What do you think, baby?" Suguru asks again, looking at you. "Does he deserve to cum?"

You nod again, but before you give Satoru the go ahead, you climb on top of him, settling your thighs on either side of his hips. Suguru lets his hand drop from Satoru's length, earning him an indignant whine from Satoru, but before he can start to protest verbally, you take his cock in your hand and align it with your dripping entrance. His eyes go wide, and you grin down at him as you slowly take him in.

You can't help but moan in tandem with him. "You get to cum," you whisper, brushing a kiss over his cheek as you take the chain from Suguru, "but only inside me."

He makes a choking sound, his hands coming up to grip the plush flesh around your hips, fingertips making perfect indents into your skin. His beautiful eyes start to roll back as you lift off his hips and slam back down, riding him with the fervor you know he likes. He's panting, now, breath stuttering from between his perfect lips as his climax starts to crest. "F-fuck, I'm close," he whispers, eyes trained on yours as you smile so sweetly down at him.

Just then, Suguru slides one long finger inside Satoru's hole, brushing against his prostate, and he's done for.

He cums so hard he nearly bucks you off of him, inadvertently making you tug on the nipple clamps again. He groans loudly beneath you, watching your beautiful pussy take it all as you keep riding him through it.

But you don't stop when he's done; you just keep riding him, slowing down your pace as your sweet smile turns into a sinister smirk.

"We're not done, baby," you whisper.

He whimpers, but he doesn't fight you; he just lets you do what you want, fighting through the overstimulation.

All the while, Suguru is slowly working him open, two fingers now inside him as he slowly strokes. He watches you ride his partner, and his own cock grows impossibly harder at the sight. Finally, when he feels that Satoru is ready and open for him, he takes his cock in his hand and lubes the tip with silky anal lube. Then he slowly pushes in, and Satoru's hips jerk at the sensation of being penetrated while you're riding him, the dual stimulation almost immediately sending him towards another orgasm.

After he comes back down, he's nearly crying. "I-I can't," he says, trying to lift you off of him.

You yank on the chain, and he yelps. "You will," you tell him, with a gentle, consoling kiss to his trembling lips.

You continue to ride him while keeping the fingers of one hand wrapped gently around the chain connecting the clamps, a clear warning that if he doesn’t behave and do as told, he’ll be punished once more.

All the while, Suguru is slowly pumping in and out of Satoru’s hole, starting to groan himself as he feels Satoru clench around him. "I'm close," he growls, his hands moving to Satoru's thighs to open him up further.

You hear Suguru's words and slowly reach down between your legs, rubbing tight circles on your clit while the other hand drops your hold on the chain, instead moving to palm your breast, fingers teasing your nipple. Satoru's gaze is locked on your fingers on your clit, watching you rub so close to where he's inside you, and the sight nearly does him in. But he holds on, gritting his teeth as he tries not to cum until all three of you are ready.

Your moans start to grow louder, higher in pitch, and both men know you're close. So Suguru starts thrusting inside Satoru a little faster, a little harder, jostling the two of you as Satoru cries out again with each swipe across his prostate. All three of you hit your peak, clenching and stiffening, and then you go careening over the edge together, collapsing in a heap on top of one another.

Satoru, on the bottom of the pile, lets out a breathless groan. "You guys are evil," he mumbles, even as he wraps an arm around your middle and presses a kiss to your forehead.

Suguru, at the top of the pile, chuckles quietly, kissing the side of your neck. "And you're a brat who needs to be punished sometimes," he says.

And you, crushed in the middle between your two boyfriends, just let out a happy hum and close your eyes, content to be with them in every way, shape, and form.

Chapter Text

You’re not trying to be a creep.

You know it’s no excuse. But you heard your roommate Choso groaning quietly through the thin walls, and you couldn’t help but feel your pussy throb at the sound. You wondered if he was with someone… but no, you couldn’t hear another voice, all you heard was him. 

So you tiptoe out of bed and slink down the hall towards his bedroom, following the sound of his soft moans. His door isn't fully shut, the barest crack left to let the sounds through. So you gently nudge it open, and what you see makes your eyes go wide.

He's propped up on his knees, riding his pillow like a desperate whore. His cock, perfect, thick and blushing red at the tip, presses against the blue pillow case as he ruts into the pillow, his thighs clenching so perfectly as he moves. His bare chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, showing off his abs every time he exhales sharply. His hands are placed flat on the mattress, holding up his weight as he rolls his hips into the pillow. His head falls back as he lets out a soft little groan, eyes fluttering closed.

Fuck, you've never seen anything hotter.

You watch with rapt attention as one of his hands comes up, rubbing at his chest and abs, his eyes still closed. It seems like he's imagining someone touching him, someone running their hand up and down his body…

And then he whispers your name, so softly you almost don't hear it. But you do, and your eyes widen, realizing he's thinking about you.

He reaches over to the end table, digging through the drawer for a moment before pulling something out. You can't quite see what it is at this angle, but he moves the pillow and lays down on his back, and then your eyes are glued to the scene before you.

He's holding a thin metal rod, and he's slowly inserting it inside the slit of his cock.

You have to hold back a gasp. You've heard about people doing this, but have never known someone who has, and you've definitely never seen it before. So you watch with wide eyes as he slowly works the rod in, little whimpers and moans falling from his lips, eyes squeezed shut.

And as you watch him slowly slide it in, he hits a point where he shudders, and then he pulls it out and cums the hardest you've ever seen. His release spurts out in hot, heavy ropes, all over his stomach. You watch as he smears his fingers through it, brushing it away. Then his head falls back against the pillows and sighs a breathy gasp, his eyes falling closed once more.

You watch as he slowly comes down from his high, and then you take a deep breath and step away from the crack in the door. You adjust your pajama shirt to look a little more presentable, and then you softly knock.

"Cho?" you call through the door. "You awake?"

You hear him go still in the room, then shuffle around a bit as he presumably cleans himself up and pulls on some clothes. Then he slowly opens the door, now wearing a pair of basketball shorts and no shirt. "Hey," he greets, his voice deep and delicious, with only the slightest waver to tell you he was affected at all by what he was just doing.

You stare at his chest for a moment before raising your eyes to meet his. "Hi," you say.

He shifts uncomfortably on his feet, averting his eyes shyly. "Uh, what's up?" he asks.

At the tentative, embarrassed look in his eyes, you just can't help yourself. You put a hand on his sternum and push him inside the room.

His gaze flashes back to you, eyes widening as he stumbles backwards. "W-Wha—?" he tries to ask, but he can't even get the word out before you're dragging him down towards you and pressing your lips to his.

It takes him a moment to respond, to overcome his surprise. But when he does, his lips move against yours so deliciously, so desperately, that you feel like you're drowning in him.

You back him into the room towards his bed, and you push him onto the mattress where he sprawls out, looking up at you with starry eyes as his chest rises and falls quickly. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his thighs until your hips come down right over his.

Choso gasps, his hands coming up to grip your hips, holding you as you start kissing him again. It's sloppy now, more passionate and less controlled as your lips move together. You grind your hips down into his, and he groans loudly, still sensitive from his orgasm. But he doesn't stop you; instead he guides your hips to keep moving, allowing you to take your pleasure.

You dip your fingers into the waistband of his shorts. You pull away, panting, and ask, "Can I take these off?"

He nods, pupils dilated and lips parted. He watches you take them off, and then he helps you undress, throwing your clothes to the side.

"What are we doing?" you hear him ask under his breath.

That pulls you up short. You, now in nothing but your underwear, look at him and examine his expression. Then you reach up and cup his cheeks, gently stroking his face with your thumbs. "Do you not want to?" you ask, looking between his eyes. "You can say no; we don't have to."

He shakes his head, looking up at you with those doe eyes. "No, I want to. It's just… we're roommates, you know. I don't want to… ruin what we have."

You smile softly and take his hand, pressing his palm against your cheek. "It won't ruin anything, Cho. I promise."

And so he nods again and takes a deep breath, his chest swelling beneath yours as he inhales. Then he squeezes your hips again before slowly working your panties down your legs. Once you're fully undressed, you rock your already-slick center over his aching, still-sensitive cock, and he practically whimpers. You smile down at him, repeating the motion, and his hips jerk up into yours, searching for stimulation.

You reach down to align yourself with his cock, the blunt head slowly pushing inside, and both of you let out little moans as you sink down on top of him. Your movements are slow, so as not to overwhelm him, but as soon as you've taken all of him and your pelvis is flush with his, you can already feel his cock twitching inside you.

"Just gimme a sec," he pants, hands on your hips keeping you from moving. But he can't stop the way your pussy flutters at the sound of his voice, and he lets out a whimpering groan. "Stop it, unless you want me to bust right here."

You giggle breathlessly and press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "I can't help it," you whisper.

He lets out a shaky breath, steeling himself. Then he nods for you to start moving.

You lift your hips and lower them, slowly starting to ride him as he groans and whines beneath you, sounding so beautifully pathetic. You grind your body onto his cock, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone as you do. Both your breath starts to hitch and break, and his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass to keep your rhythm steady.

"Can't," he pants, his head falling back with a groan. "Can't hold on. Tell me you're close."

You nod, eyes hazy and cock-drunk as you grind a little faster onto him. "C-close," you confirm, eyes rolling back as pleasure curls your toes.

He lets you cum first before he follows closely behind, pulling out to cum on your stomach and thighs. He's a panting mess beneath you, and you lean down and press little kisses to his face. He chuckles at your actions, and he pulls you close, not minding the mess he makes on his own stomach as he tugs you down to lay on top of him.

His long lashes flutter. "I'll clean up later," he mumbles, hand moving slowly over your back. "Just lay with me for a while."

So you do, keeping him company as he slowly comes down from his high, continuing to press kisses to every inch of skin you can reach.

Chapter Text

“Suck ‘em better,” Toji snaps, giving your cheek a light smack, “or you’ll never get this dick.”

“Toji, I’m trying,” you say, your mouth full of two of his thick, long fingers. Your words are garbled around those fingers, and you’re still trying to suck them, your tongue swirling, but every time you start to find a rhythm, he shoves them a little deeper, gagging you. The tip of his middle finger keeps reaching back to the root of your tongue, making you heave so heavily you almost think you’re about to get sick at his feet.

“Don’t you fucking puke on me, baby,” he growls, smacking your cheek again. “I’ll be pissed.”

You whine, tears pouring down your cheeks at the continued gagging and gasping. “Toji,” you say his name, trying to appeal to his softer side, “please, I’m trying my best.”

He tuts, grabbing your jaw and tilting your face up for him to look at you better. “Aw, doll, you cryin’? Looking so pretty for me, baby, I can’t get enough of you. But you have to try harder if you want to suck my dick.”

You sniffle, wiping away snot with the back of your hand. Then you nod for him to continue, and he pushes his fingers back into your mouth, eyes trained closely on your lips as you suck and bob your head, tongue swirling around his knuckles.

“Good,” he praises, driving his fingers deeper. “Breathe through your nose, baby. Take it for me, doll, like I know you can.”

So you follow his instructions and breathe through your nose, closing your eyes to concentrate as more tears continue to fall.

He can’t help but love the sight.

You continue to suck his fingers, just like you would his cock, though they’re much less girthy and not nearly as long. But he needs you to show him that you can handle his fingers before he lets you take his cock; it just wouldn’t be fair to split your mouth open on his dick if you can’t even take his fingers gagging you.

He is – in his own way – trying to be kind.

So once you have a rhythm down and can properly suck his fingers, he hums and pulls them out of your mouth, drying them on his shorts. “Good girl,” he praises, and then he dips his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and slowly tugs them down, revealing his happy trail, then down, down, down to his pubic bone, the very base of his cock showing from beneath the elastic. Then he shoves them the rest of the way off, letting them fall in a heap at his feet.

He steps out of them, and then he grabs your hair at the back of your head and forces you to look up at him. You gasp at the slight pain, looking up at him through teary eyes.

He smirks down at you. “Pretty fucking slut,” he rumbles, stroking your cheek with his other hand while he yanks your head back even further, drawing a whimper from between your lips. “Want this cock? You’re so fucking desperate for it; I can see you drooling just at the thought of it.”

You are practically salivating for it, your eyes flitting between his and his rock-hard dick, blushing pink at the tip. You can already imagine how it will fill your mouth, stretching your lips wide, hitting the back of your throat so deliciously… Your eyes nearly roll back at the thought.

"You know the deal," he says, free hand going to the shaft of his cock. "Slow and deep, got it?"

You nod, already sticking your tongue out for it. Your eyes are lowered, watching him slowly push his girthy length inside your mouth, all the way to the back and down your throat. You gag around it, more tears burning your eyes as you look up at his expression, blissed out but concentrating on you as he forces you to take it so well for him.

"Good girl," he whispers, letting you pull off to breathe, leaving you a mess of tears and drool dripping down your face.

"Oh, god, yes," you gasp, hands slowly stroking his thick, saliva-wet length. "Please, again."

He smirks down at you and nods, slowly pushing his cock back down your throat as you gag on it again, eyes rolling back. "So fucking pretty," he breathes. "You gonna cry more for me, baby?"

You nod, choking as you pull back for more air. "Oh, fuck," you whimper, wrapping your hands around his shaft again and stroking once more. "I'm sorry; I wanna take more."

He chuckles breathlessly, petting your cheek. "Oh, it's okay, baby girl; you're doing so well." He guides your head forward to take him down again. He growls as he hits the sweltering tissue at the back of your throat, "So fucking good." He pushes even further, until your face is pressed against his pelvis, nose buried in his trimmed pubes as you choke and splutter more spit onto the curly hair. He grins as he lets you come up for another breath, gasping and whimpering. "What do you say, doll?"

"Thank you," you rasp, leaning in to press a kiss to the flushed tip of his cock. "Oh, thank you."

"Good girl," he says. "Want me to cum?"

You nod desperately, sliding his cock down your throat once more. He grabs your hair at the back of your head and starts fucking your throat while you try not to gag, tears pouring down your cheeks as you gaze up at him with bleary eyes. Just when you're about to tap out, to silently beg him to let you up for air, he cums, cock twitching in your mouth as he pumps his seed down your throat. His hips stutter, and his head tips back with a loud groan, fingers tightening in your hair.

You fight to swallow, and then when he finally lets you breathe, you're panting, too, a mess of spit, tears, and spilled cum on your face.

And all he does is grin again and press a filthy kiss to your lips, praising you for how pretty you look while absolutely ruined for him.

Chapter Text

Kento loves to drink.

It's never been a problem for the two of you; a couple glasses of wine on the weekends, a trip to the bars when you're feeling adventurous. It's always led to only fun between you, and you can't help but grin when you see him opening up a new bottle for you when you walk in the door from grabbing dinner with your friends.

He smiles at you, his eyes warm as he welcomes you home. You return the expression before heading into the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him from the back and pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs as he uncorks the bottle, "how was your evening?"

"Good. Even better now that I'm home." You press a kiss to his shoulder and let him go. "How are you?"

He pours the red wine into two glasses. "Happy to see you," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "There's a meteor shower tonight; do you want to go enjoy it outside with me?"

You nod; it's not even a question. Any time with him is treasured by you, and you'd never say no to enjoying more with him. So you grab the picnic blanket from the closet and follow him outside, where he hands you your glass of wine and leans back on one hand, gazing at the night sky while he sips at his glass. It's quiet between you for a while as the two of you simply bask in each other's company.

It's not until Kento leans over and presses a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder that you feel the heat from the wine in your cheeks.

And in your core.

His lips press against your skin, and he stays there for a moment before pulling away, only to kiss you again, and again, moving up your shoulder towards your neck.

You shiver, head tipping back.

He stops for a moment, looking up at you through thick blonde lashes. "Cold?" he asks, voice low and intimate.

You shake your head. "No," you whisper.

He hums, picking up where he left off and slowly kissing the base of your neck. One hand supports his weight against the picnic blanket, while the other cradles the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair as his kisses grow just the tiniest bit urgent.

He's not hurried, but he is a little desperate as he kisses your racing pulse. He slowly guides you down to lay against the picnic blanket, and your breathing starts to pick up as his hands start to slowly roam over your body.

He hums into your neck and lets out a shuddering sigh. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, nipping lightly, just enough to sting a little. You shiver at the sensation.

"Kento," you sigh, your back rising up off the blanket into his chest.

He groans softly into the crook of your neck, his hands roaming over your body, over your waist and hips and thighs. Then he rocks his hips into yours, grinding sensually into you.

"You gonna let me fuck you out here?" he murmurs in your ear, licking a line up your throat. "Like a nasty little slut?"

You nod deliriously, arching and writhing into him. He huffs against you and shakes his head, the motion almost mocking. "Dirty girl. Can't even wait to get inside before you have my dick in you." But despite his mean tone, he's already pushing your dress up your thighs, his hand playing with your lacy panties before he drags them down your legs. He groans again. "Fuck, you're already dripping."

He rolls over so he's sitting on the picnic blanket now and pulls you into his lap, dragging your hips onto his in a slow grind. He grunts, feeling the slick heat of your bare pussy against the crotch of his pants. You whimper at the friction.

"Goddamn, baby," he says, putting his hands on your hips to guide you to grind against him again, and then again. "Such a little whore for me, always focused on getting dick, even when we're — shit — supposed to just have a nice night together."

You whimper. "Fuck me, Kento," you whine, aching to have him.

He lets out a rumbly chuckle, groaning once more before scrambling to push off his pants. "Fuck, sweetheart, beg me for it. Beg me like a desperate little slut. Need to hear you."

So you do, begging him so sweetly. "Please, Ken, I need you inside me. I need you so bad, please, please, fuck me."

He guides your hips down onto his, pressing the tip of his blushing cock to your slick pussy. Then he lifts his hips, thrusting up into you, and you have to hold back a cry, lips parting against his shoulder. But he grabs your hair and pulls your face away from his skin, shaking his head. "No, come on. Let the neighborhood hear how good I'm making you feel."

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment at his words. You squirm. "Kento…"

His hand tightens in your hair. "Come on, dirty girl, I know you want to."

You let out a little cry, but when he smacks your ass lightly — not enough to hurt, more to make you jump and whimper — you tentatively let out another moan, this one louder so the neighbors could hear you if they're listening.

Kento smirks and presses a kiss to your cheek. "That's it. Filthy slut, I knew you had it in you." He starts fucking up into you faster, harder, until the plap! plap! plap! of skin on skin fills the night air.

You're blushing, dread and disgust twisting in your stomach, but it's got a thrill you can't deny.

So when he finally spills inside you, you moan, the sound loud and pornographic. It's enough to make his eyes shine with pride. "Good girl," he whispers, and then he eases you back against the blanket. Whether it's to let you rest or to take you for another round, you're not yet sure.