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maya1525 · 2 years ago

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Kissing Practice 🍃💨

18+ MDNI

Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto

WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving & receiving oral, cream pie, rough fucking, fingering, choking, group sex, cursed technique usage during sex. Substance use, language, smoking, shotgunning.

Word count✩࿐11.3K

BONUS✩࿐Everyone is high out of their minds

Summary✩࿐Young Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto are friends with the other female Jujitsu Sorcerer in their class. The innocent Fem!Reader gets high with both men and accidentally asks if one of them could teach her how to kiss. She ends up getting more than she bargained for.

A/N✩࿐ Here’s my playlist of inspiration✨(sorry Spotifers, I’m a YouTube Premium Girl) This was an idea I had on my mind shortly after watching the first few episodes of season 2. I didn’t plan on it being this long! I hope you enjoy it!

Sex is like a sinful pool of honey, tonight you dipped your toe in to test the waters, but you weren’t able to take your toe out. Instead, the pool of pleasure had a mind of its own and pulled you under. You couldn’t breathe, regardless you didn’t care. You were drowning in it, and your whole body was lost in pure ecstasy. You felt like you hit a revelation within yourself, who knew that sinful acts could be so exhilarating? You felt hyper-aware of your body and you felt even more in tune with yourself. Tonight you will share your soul with Suguru and Satoru, and the three of you will be forever intertwined.

“What’s up Y/n? The za too good for you?” Satoru teased with an annoying smirk, as he playfully poked your cheek. He had caught you midway through spacing out. Your mind whirled trying to muster up a good comeback, but you couldn’t respond quickly enough. “Suguru look at her, she’s completely out of it,” Gojo said to his friend humorously. Now Geto was eyeing you with amusement.

“Roll us another hun, this one’s almost done.” The black-haired man instructed as he handed you a brown paper wrap.

A few previous smoke sessions ago, Suguru admitted that he likes it when you wrap the blunts. So now it’s your job whenever you smoke with them. You don’t mind it though, you like the praise he gives you whenever you wrap a good-looking dart.

You obediently leaned forward on the edge of the couch to reach the coffee table. You began to break the large green clusters down into fine pieces. Pulling the weed nuggets apart with your sharp fingernails. You set the stems off to the side as you added small sage green crumbs to the wrap. You made sure all the little clusters were consistent in size and spaced out evenly on the paper. Even though you guys were almost done smoking the first dart, you felt incredibly buzzed.

“Cat got your tongue, Y/n?” Suguru said as the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “You’ve been quiet for a while.” His voice rang out like smooth honey.

“Mmh, nothing. I’m just high.” You mumbled to yourself without thinking, earning a chuckle from both men.

“Damn, you’re such lightweight Y/n! That’s a knee-slapper.” Satoru wheezed as he leaned over and slapped Geto’s knee aggressively. The two jostled you a bit when they hit each other. Furthermore, their rough horseplay didn’t deter you from finishing up the wrap. You carefully brought the brown rolled-up paper to your mouth and began to lick its edge from left to right. Once it was damp with your saliva you closed the blunt. Holding it delicately in place to keep its shape, it was perfectly symmetrical.

“How’d I do?” You directed your attention to Geto handing him your accomplishment. After breaking the clusters down, your fingers became a sticky crumbly mess - it would feel wasteful to wash it off. You began to lick your weed-covered fingers clean. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel Gojo watching you intently as you brought your dainty fingers to your lips.

Geto eyed you briefly and then to the blunt with approval, “It looks great Y/n, you did an amazing job.”

“Yeah? You think so?” You beamed up at him; feeling warmth well up in your chest at his praise. Out of everyone you met, his words always seemed to have a great effect on you.

“Of course! You always do it perfectly. Wanna do the honors?” He gave you a sly smile as he handed it back to you. “I’ll light it, hun.” He whispered lowly.

You blushed slightly and nodded, you brought the blunt up to your lips and leaned in close to Suguru. His long slender fingers clasped the lighter and his thumb rolled over the dial, sparking a flame. As he brought the flame close to your face, you felt his left elbow lean against the couch next to your soldier. He was so close to you, that you could feel his warmth coming off of his body. You couldn’t help but notice how amazing he smelt. His scent reminded you of the warmth of fall, with a hint of something mysterious.

Once the end of the dart caught fire you inhaled and sucked on the blunt greedily as the tangy smoke filled your mouth. You swallowed the smoke down into your lungs and handed the wrap to Suguru.

Immediately, you began to cough from the rip you just took, your whole body shook as you felt your lungs twitch with irritation. You heard both men laugh at your feeble attempts to stop, but you had no luck. You felt your cheeks warm up with embarrassment as you covered your face shyly. Your whole body shuttered with each feeble cough that escaped from your lips. “S-stop *cough* laughing at me!” You croaked meekly.

“You’re such a pouty little child. How cute.” Geto chuckled, his attractive laugh echoed in your mind.

“I’m not…” you coughed once more, peaking at him through your hands and throwing your head back against the couch cushions impulsively. The music that played on the TV felt as if it was hitting you in waves. You feel high out of your mind and when you get like this, you notice words are hard to muster up.

“Not cute? Pshh, don’t be such a liar.” Satoru’s voice rang out, you felt his smooth fingers gently pry your hands away from your face to peek at you.

You shifted your attention to Gojo so your body was facing his. You felt your knees touching the side of his thigh. “Aww. So you think I’m cute?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that shit. You’re hot and you know it. A girl with your type of looks has me confused though,” he paused taking a hit from the blunt, blowing its strong-smelling smoke in your face as you batted your pretty eyelashes up at him. “How do you not have a boyfriend yet? Is there anyone you like?” He coughed after taking that rip, it was a bit too pungent.

You felt your cheeks flush at his words. “Umm, well I can’t tell you that! If I do, it might not come true!” You giggled playfully, poking Satoru’s cheek the same way he poked yours earlier.

The icy-haired man arched a brow at you with amusement, “Not come true? Isn’t that the rule for wishing on stars?”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Suguru retorted while he French inhaled; the cloudy smoke rose from his mouth and into his nose in the most captivating manner. “So you going to tell us who this mystery guy is or what?” He teased as a strand of his inky black hair fell to the side of his face.

“I do like someone.” You admitted, now getting both men’s attention. “But I feel too embarrassed to do anything about it.”

“Oh come on, why do you have to be shy? Grow a pair and make a move! It’s easy, I’ll show you!” Satoru chuckled while bringing his face closer to yours, forcing you to look into his hazy ocean-blue eyes. You noticed how easy it was for Satoru to corner you and get you all hot and bothered by his actions. In response, you swatted him away playfully and leaned over to Suguru to take the blunt. You inhaled it, letting the smoke stay in your mouth for a brief moment before letting it exhale through your nose.

Gojo snatched the blunt from you. He inhaled from the dart and blew out three impressive smoke rings. With his cursed technique, he made the rings transform into a three-dimensional sphere. The large smoke bubble floated into the TV and popped, causing the room to get even more foggy.

“Don’t tell me it’s Nanami.” Geto croaked out mid-cough and laugh.

Satoru chuckled, “Man, can you imagine if Y/n and that strait-laced Kento got together?” Gojo addressed Suguru while stealing a glance at you.

“Yeah, she’d have to say goodbye to smoking with us, that’s for sure.” The Suguru responded, but then he shifted his attention back your way. “Why would you feel embarrassed to admit your feelings to him? What type of a guy is he?”

“Well, I’ve never been in a relationship before… and I feel like my lack of experience would be embarrassing.” You muttered bashfully while stealing the blunt back from Gojo. You wanted to avoid their eyes and look busy.

Overanalyzing yourself when you’re high is one of your weaknesses. You felt clouded out of your mind at this point, if only you were sober enough to come up with a good response. It mildly frustrated you, that the feelings you felt were too hard to verbalize. All while it felt like your body was vibing to the beat of the music, as if you were melting into the couch. It began to get hard to focus like an anchor was resting on your soul. Yet at the same time, you also felt like your state of consciousness was elevated to a higher plane of reality.

“That’s such a lame excuse.” Gojo blurted out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm, maybe it’s different for girls.” Suguru backed you up. “Some guys find innocent girls hot, I think you’ll be fine.” He winked at you when you glanced over at him. Geto lounged on the couch with his legs spread out and his palm resting on the back of his neck coolly, his warm faded gaze glued on you. The way he presented himself, spurred a random desire within yourself. The irrational thought of you climbing on top of his lap just to see his reaction, crossed your mind.

“So… how innocent are you Y/n?” Satoru eyed you with a cocky grin.

“I’ve um-“ you cut yourself off trying to focus on the correct words to use, “only ever hugged and held hands before. And that’s it.” You muttered, feeling a hot wave of mortification overcome you. You couldn’t believe you just admitted that to them!

“Oh? So you haven’t even kissed anyone?” Suguru asked nonchalantly while his narrowed gaze was fixated on you.

“No, would one of you like to teach me?” You blurted out jokingly, then immediately regretted it. You panicked in your clouded state, normal people don’t joke like that with their friends! How embarrassing, they’re going to turn you down and how will you ever recover? You practically just dug yourself your own grave.

“Yes.”

Both of the men say in union and for a split second, they exchange an irritated glare towards each other.

To your bewilderment, you couldn’t believe that both would like to kiss you. The alarm you felt earlier was immediately replaced with the thrilling feeling of fireworks going off in your brain.

“So which one of us would you want to teach you? I could give you a personal lesson right now Y/n.” Gojo’s seductive voice drew you in as you felt his hot fingertips lightly graze over your left arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I-I can’t choose between you two.” You stammered nervously, “Do you think you both could teach me?” You asked, not wanting to hurt either of their feelings.

“At the same time?” Gojo inquired curiously.

“Right now?” Getou asked with a hint of excitement.

You could feel both of the men’s eyes burning holes in you. You noticed they were both sandwiching you on the couch, when did they close in on you? “I’m down to learn right now.” Your mousy voice broke the thick silence in the smoke-filled room.

In a frantic whirl, both men had you situated above one of their thighs. Suguru and Satoru sat side by side so their shoulders touched. You straddled Getou’s left leg and Gojo’s right. The look of anticipation on your face did little to hide your excitement yet overwhelming nervousness.

“Let’s start with something easy hun.” Suguru stated as he eyed you with desire, “I’m going to shotgun smoke into your mouth. You don’t have to worry about kissing yet. Just get used to the feeling of my lips.”

“Aww no fun, I just wanted to dive right in and make out with her,” Satoru whined playfully while turning the volume up on the TV. His blatant interest in you caused you to look down with an adorable blush on your face. “Damn, no need to be so bashful Y/n, you have nothing to worry about,” Gojo responded, reaching up to rest his left hand on your hip. His thumb rubbed comforting circles on you. The bold action stirred up an unfamiliar sensation in your stomach.

“When I press my lips against yours, inhale. Geto instructed while bringing the dart up to his lips. You naturally held your breath with the fluttering sensation of butterflies clouding your emotions.

Suguru’s hooded dark amber eyes glinted toward yours as he gingerly brought your chin closer to his. This was your first kiss and you wanted to memorize everything about it. In your smokey state of consciousness, you felt as if this moment was going in slow motion. As his face got closer to yours he closed his eyes, and you instinctively did the same. His smooth lips ghosted over yours which caused sparks to fly inside of your mind. You parted your lips while he opened his mouth to blow the harsh smoke into yours. You naturally inhaled just like you were supposed to. His lips softly brushed against yours, he delicately kissed your plump lower lip and pulled away. A subtle smile danced across his handsome features, as thin wisps of smoke slithered upward between your faces.

You felt as if your heart was beating a million miles per minute, Suguru handed you the blunt; purposely grazing his fingers against yours in the process. “Now do what I just did to Satoru.”

You brought the blunt up to your lips, inhaled, and held the smoke in your mouth as you shifted your weight onto Gojo’s lap. You gripped his broad shoulders for balance. In return, his hand that was on your hip snaked its way to your lower back, pulling you into him possessively. A surprised gasp came out of you as a sliver of smoke escaped from your lips. Satoru gave a hazed smirk at how easily he could fluster you. He leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against yours. You parted your lips to blow the foggy smoke into his awaiting mouth. You felt him suck the air out of your lungs, causing you to battle him for oxygen. You mustered up the courage to kiss him the way Suguru kissed you. Timidly, you kissed his upper lip as he greedily sucked your lower. You felt his molten tongue barge into your mouth and glide across your tongue. Feeling his tongue for the first time spurred a primal arousal deep inside of you. Not only was your head buzzing, but your lower region buzzed with excitement as well.

Gojo pulled away from your mouth as a small strand of saliva broke that connected your lips. With his free hand, he brought his thumb up to your lower lip to wipe off the little bit of drool. He kept his hot gaze on your lips for a brief moment before you felt Geto’s comforting hand guide your slim waist over to him.

“You’ll kiss her again Satoru. But right now it’s my turn.” Suguru spoke out huskily. He took the blunt from you to take a quick puff before handing it over to Satoru. With his tender grip on your waist, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. The strong-smelling smoke entered your mouth once more. Your mouth watered at its taste as you sucked it in. This time you made sure to kiss Suguru back while he moved his lips against yours expertly. You hesitantly brought one of your hands to the back of his head and gently tangled your slim fingers in his black cascading locks. As soon as you did that, you felt his hand on your hip glide down to your thigh. He squeezed your plump skin lightly, causing a muffled mewl of surprise to get swallowed by his lips.

The way he kissed you was a little different compared to Gojo’s style. Suguru seemed to focus on sucking and biting. While Satoru was playful and liked to utilize his tongue. You copied the way Geto moved his lips against yours; you alternated between nibbling and sucking his lips gently. You felt a rhythm form between you two the longer you kissed him. You memorized the feeling of his smooth lips and sharp teeth against your lips. You felt a bit more confident in the way you kissed Suguru, so you pulled away with a mischievous smile. You leaned over to kiss Satoru, who was watching you two intensely.

He immediately darted his tongue into your mouth and you greeted it with your own. His tongue wrestled yours for dominance and he easily overpowered you. You mirrored the way Gojo kissed you by using his style against him, which fired him up even more. He felt a bit more desperate with his kisses, while Suguru seemed to be slightly possessive. Being this close to Satoru made you realize how much you desired his scent, he smelt fresh and clean like a summer’s breeze next to a waterfall. You felt Geto lean in close to the two of you and latched his hot mouth onto your exposed neck. A muffled gasp of pleasure escaped from your lips and into Gojo’s mouth.

“Got tired of watching?” Mumbled Satoru cockily as his lips danced across yours for another hot kiss. No one has ever done that to your neck before. Suguru gently smooched your tender skin which caused chills of excitement to run across your body. His molten mouth felt so sensual on your sensitive neck. You suddenly felt so needy, and in your buzzed state, you decided to follow your instincts. You reached up to grab a hold of Getou’s broad shoulder, pulling him closer to you. All while you kissed Gojo, you made sure to tangle your free hand in his white hair. It felt like your body and your energy were colliding and entangling itself with theirs. You were able to sense their intense desire and excitement towards you, which felt like overpowering waves.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Suguru pulled away from your neck. He gently guided your face away from Satoru’s so he could steal some kisses from you. His mouth gently nibbled yours as he moved his lips against yours passionately. Gojo didn’t take it lightly when his dark-haired friend stole you from his grasp. So in return, he leaned forward and began to roughly kiss and suck on your neck. Knowing that he’d leave a few angry red marks. The hand Satoru had on your lower back, snaked its way to the inside part of your upper thigh. The feeling of his hand between your legs activated a wanton desire inside of you. Gojo delicately traced his fingers along your thigh, all the way down to your knee and then up, dangerously close to your center. He tested the waters and snuck his fingers underneath your skirt this time. His hand slid upward to the hem of your underwear but then darted lower to grip your leg firmly. This bold gesture caused your center to fire up with excitement. Suguru picked up on what his friend was doing to you so he brought his hand underneath your skirt too, but higher up of course. He rubbed his thumb in soft circles on your squishy thigh.

Gojo then pulled away from your neck to steal you back from Suguru. In return, Geto gently kissed your neck while he stroked the inside part of your thigh. You moved your mouth against Gojo’s with a sense of urgency now, you wanted them to touch you more. With two mouths working on you, you felt overwhelmed with sensations. Everything felt amplified, because of how high you were. It felt as if you were hyper-aware of every little touch and caress each man did to you. You didn’t want to ask them to take it further, so in your blurred state of consciousness, you felt bold enough to make a move. You hesitantly brought your hand down to Suguru’s firm thigh as you feverishly made out with Gojo. You slowly traced your fingers higher up his leg until you felt a firm bulge in his pants. A sudden wave of nervousness washed over you causing you to freeze.

“Tch, no need to be so nervous Y/n…” Geto purred, he kissed a trail up your neck and whispered in your ear, “I can show you how to touch it if you want.”

“Show me.” You whimpered into Satoru’s mouth as you felt Suguru’s hand caress the top of yours. He guided your hand along his clothed shaft, he felt so hard and girthy. He controlled your hand with a bit more pressure. You heard him inhale sharply as your dainty hand rubbed his length. While you persistently stroked Geto’s growing dick, your mouth battled for dominance against Gojo’s. He wiggled his tongue into your mouth with immeasurable desire. It felt as if the room was on fire with passion, your clothes suddenly felt so restricting. Suguru’s pants seemed to get tighter the more you rubbed on him.

Geto greedily stole your mouth off of Satoru’s to kiss you excitedly. Gojo placed feather-like kisses on your neck and exposed collarbone, and you felt his hand inch it's way higher up your skirt. You sensed Satoru’s hot fingers lightly prodding your pussy lips from the outside of your underwear. The pleasurable sensations drove you wild, you could feel your panties dampen tremendously.

Your curious fingers traced the outline of Suguru’s cock and you were able to feel his bulge twitch when you neared his tip. “Fuck.” Geto hissed out in satisfaction.

“I want to do so much more to her Suguru…” Gojo groaned while giving your neck a heated and sloppy kiss.

“Y/n’s pretty innocent. We don’t want to spoil her if she has her heart set on another guy,” Geto mumbled against your lips.

Gojo hooked his finger into your panties, his finger glided over your slick folds in the process. “Mmh, Satoru!” You moaned quietly as he dipped the tip of his finger into your tight wet hole.

“You’d rather have the guy you like do these things to you, hun, wouldn’t you?” You felt him tug at your lace underwear with his reddish lust-filled eyes. “I don’t think I could hold myself back if we continue. Do you want us to take things further?”

You studied the flirtatious look on Satoru’s face for a brief moment, as you gathered your thoughts. You weren’t sober enough to think this over the way you would’ve liked, but the thought of experiencing more intimate pleasure with these two excited you. Without meaning to; you lightly squeezed Geto’s penis, causing his alluring dark eyes to light up as he flashed you a killer smirk. You felt Satoru’s fingertips sweetly stroke your pussy lips and a small needy whimper escaped your lips. “I-mmh.” Another sweet moan interrupted your sentence when you felt his finger gently rub over your clit.

You looked over at Geto whose dark eyes had a mischievous glint in them. “What is it dear?” Suguru teased with a sly smile on his handsome face.

“I want- ahh.” This time Satoru pressed on your clit with a bit more pressure, causing sparks of ecstasy to bubble up inside of you for a split second. Both Geto and Gojo were extremely turned on by your sexy little sighs and gasps of delight. They both wanted to make you feel good. Yet, the greedier side of their personalities wanted to claim you as theirs and deflower you, before you ended up with the guy you liked.

You removed your hand from Suguru’s bulge and ghosted your fingers over the button on his pants, you looked up at him for permission. “Teach me how to be a good girlfriend-“ You got cut off with a feverish kiss from Suguru, and you felt his hand grip your ass firmly. You pulled away to finish your sentence, but when you did Gojo sneakily pressed his lips onto yours, as his fingers teased your dampening pussy lips. “Don’t hold back.” You said almost innocently with a sweet smile on your pretty face.

“If that’s what you want, then unbutton our pants dear,” Suguru instructed, while bringing the blunt up to his lips.

“Fuck.” Satoru growled as he leaned forward to give you a heated kiss, he deliberately grabbed your hands and led them down to the tent in his pants. “Unbutton mine first.” He murmured urgently into your mouth. Excitement rose inside of you. You obediently did what he ordered and your nimble fingers worked at freeing his dick from its confines. Once his zipper went down, the bulge in his boxers seemed to grow even more. Like a delightful present just for you. You felt the heat coming off of his hidden shaft. You looked up to see Gojo giving you a buzzed smile with the blunt in between his lips. “Go on, take it out to play.” His blue eyes looked at you with a burning passion in the dark hotboxed room.

Without thinking you lowered his gray boxers down to see his large and lengthy dick spring free. Your mouth instinctively watered at the sight of his delicious-looking cock. Even though it looked heavy, it surprised you with how it stood up on its own. Before you could reach out and touch it, Geto guided your hands over to his crotch. You knew what he wanted and undid his restraints as well. Within seconds his elongated dick stood up proudly like Gojo’s. Both men’s cocks were quite similar in length, but Suguru’s leaned a little to the left and Satoru’s to the right.

It looked like both of their horny rods were pointed toward you. They wanted you just as bad as you wanted them. You softly placed your left hand on Geto’s dick and your right hand on Gojo’s. Their smooth girths felt hot to the touch, both men naturally bucked their hips into your soft hands. This entire situation felt completely taboo and that turned you on tremendously. Your curious hands examined each man's shaft. Your fingertips felt every vein on their velvety dicks. It intrigued you when they would occasionally twitch in your hands.

Satoru put his hand over yours and pumped your smaller hand at a quick pace. “Can you keep this up, babe?” You got the idea and nodded when he removed his hand from yours. You jerked off each man in union. You loved how they would quietly groan to themselves in pleasure while you jacked them. Both men watched you with delight, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Gojo handing the blunt over to Geto.

You suddenly felt a small amount of hot slick wetness drip down onto your right hand. Satoru’s tip had leaked a bit of precum. You wiped your thumb over the head of his dick to watch more clear liquid ooze out. You looked over to Suguru’s tip, to see that he had a small droplet of milky white cum rolling down the side of his penis too.

“Get on your knees.” Geto’s smooth voice interrupted your ogling, so you did what you were told. Now that you were at eye level with both men’s rods, it made you realize how much larger they actually were. “Lick my tip, sweetheart,” Suguru instructed while inhaling on the blunt. He blew the delicious-smelling smoke down onto you, as you brought your face closer to his upright cock.

His dick practically loomed over your face with its impressive length. You made sure to keep pumping Gojo’s length as you brought your pert lips to Suguru’s clean-scented shaft. Your mouth water with anticipation. You brought your heated gaze to Geto’s, while your molten tongue gingerly licked his tip.

Geto hissed out in pleasure when he felt your slick tongue glide across the head of his cock. Pride welled up in his chest knowing that his dick is the first one you put your mouth on.

Once your tongue came in contact with his precum the taste reminded you of tears. You licked his entire tip and worked your way lower down, so he was coated in your drool. His shiny penis reflected the light that came off of the tv in the dark smoke-filled room. You were about to put him inside of your mouth when Satoru guided your head over to his needy dick.

“Suck me.” Satoru hummed softly while affectionately tangling his fingers in your hair. You lowered your mouth down to the tip of his hot cock. You made sure to pump Geto in your left hand, he was so slippery from your saliva. Jerking him off was effortless and you were able to glide your hand along his shaft quickly. You gently beckoned Satoru into your mouth with your sultry tongue. You were able to feel his dick throb against the roof of your mouth. You naturally wanted to make Satoru feel good, and you forced yourself to take him towards the back of your throat. Panic set in quickly when it became hard to breathe. Your throat instinctively squeezed the head of Gojo’s cock as you gagged on him.

“Easy babe…” Satoru groaned out sexily, vigorously enjoying your enthusiasm, “You don’t have to choke yourself. Take your time getting used to having a dick in your mouth.” He purred, just his voice alone made you dampen in your underwear.

You moved your mouth higher up his dick to focus on sucking his tip. You swirled your tongue around him curiously, he let out a pleasured exhale. “Mmh… yeah. Do that again.” He muttered as his brilliant blue eyes looked down at you with heated ratification. Suguru handed him the blunt and Satoru drew a greedy breath from the slowly shrinking dart. You swiveled your tongue around his sensitive tip while maintaining eye contact with him. Smoke flared from his nose as the tip of his tongue grazed over his top row of teeth with satisfaction.

You mustered up a bit more courage to take more of him into your mouth. This time you tried to calm your breathing as you alternated between sucking and moving your tongue along his shaft. He was much too big to fit in your mouth entirely, so you placed your right hand on the base of his shaft. “Can you move your head up and down Y/n?” Satoru instructed. You obliged, as you bobbed your head on his girthy cock. You found it easier to get used to having him deep in your throat with your quick movements.

With more confidence in having a dick in your mouth, you switched over to Geto’s erect cock. You licked his tip lovingly before engulfing him in your wet mouth. Suguru relished in the slick warmth your mouth provided. You sucked his tip and slowly worked your way down to his base. Feeling him that deep in your throat caused you to gag slightly, this was a tough feeling that you would have to get used to. You pushed the choking feeling aside, you wanted to make Geto feel good too. You held him there for a brief moment while he sweetly tangled his fingers in your hair.

“You’re doing so good, keep it up.” He cooed huskily; you felt your eyes well up with tears from the mild suffocation. Suguru couldn’t help but admire the way you looked as you struggled to have him in your throat. You felt his penis pulse inside of you, causing you to make a small muffled cough. Your time on his dick was cut short, “I think it’s time we advance this lesson a bit further.” He groaned out in pleasure as you sucked him like a straw. He reluctantly moved you off of his dick.

“Get undressed for us?” Satoru purred, his statement was more of an order than a suggestion.

You stood in front of both men as you unbuttoned your blouse. You could feel their eyes watching you intensely. Once you slipped your shirt off, you let your skirt pool down to your feet. There you were; standing before Gojo and Geto partially naked, yet entirely aroused. They admired your sexy bra and skimpy underwear. Your body looked so appetizing for the men, you felt like a rabbit on display for a pair of starved wolves.

With Gojo’s six eyes, he could sense how wet you already were. Suddenly, you became weightless and floated in the air. A surprised squeak escaped your lips, as you tried to comprehend what was happening. You felt your body direct itself without command and positioned above Gojo’s lap. A dashing smirk flashed across his face and within seconds he expertly pushed your panties to the side and placed his slippery dick against your entrance.

“Is this what you want?” He teased with a cocky laugh.

Feeling his dick against your needy opening sent waves of excitement rushing through your veins. You felt Gojo’s technique release and gravity pulled you down further onto his hot and ready dick. The tip had barely inserted itself into you causing discomfort at the stretch. Your knees dug into the couch on either side of him, and you hovered above him to prevent more of his meaty cock to penetrate you.

Geto picked up on your displeasure, “Slow down Satoru, she’s a virgin. Perhaps we should prepare her a bit more thoroughly.”

“Mmh, don’t be such a wet blanket Suguru. I was only teasing her.” Gojo chimed as he pushed his pelvis upwards, forcing about an inch of his dick to invade you.

“Ahh!” You whined at the stinging ache between your legs. Even though the pain was prominent, you couldn’t help but get aroused at such a close feeling with Satoru.

Gojo’s blue eyes began to glow, indicating his technique was at play. Your body floated off of his lap and upward. Your legs spread apart without your control, your left leg rested on Geto’s right shoulder and your right leg went over Gojo’s left. You felt your cheeks heat up in this vulnerable position.

Now both men were between your legs with a lustful look in their faded eyes. You could feel your pussy buzz with excitement. Suguru took the initiative and slid your panties to the side; exposing your pretty pink pussy. Your lips are slick with arousal, causing both men’s mouths to water. They couldn’t wait to try a taste. “Is it ok if we touch you down here?” Suguru hummed as he ghosted his index finger across your folds. Earning a needy sound to come from the back of your throat.

You nodded desperately, “please.”

Geto maintained his focused gaze on your red-hot cunt. He faintly traced the folds of your slippery lips with his pointer and index fingers. Gojo brought his hand to the inside of your thigh and lightly massaged the sensitive crook between your legs. His skilled fingers rubbing your crease, made you realize how sensitive you were there. You unintentionally squirmed underneath his hand. Small whimpers of delight escaped your lips when he massaged a bit deeper into your thigh. All while Suguru’s ghostly touches drove you up a wall, you wanted him to touch you so much more.

The burning passion these two men made you feel, felt incredibly intense. In your buzzed state, every touch they did to you felt amazing. Even though the teasing only just began you couldn’t stand it. Your entire body craved for more. As if Geto could hear your thoughts he lowered his mouth down onto your pussy. Before he came in contact with you, his dark eyes met yours, “You want me to eat you?” You felt his hot breath waft over your sensitive core.

“Mmh-hmm.” You mewed with excitement, the anticipation burned you up.

With his warm gaze fixated on yours, you saw the corner of his mouth tilt upward, “I’ll eat you only with one condition.” Suguru paused, almost drooling over your appetizing snack. “Who’s this guy you like?”

You felt your face heat up, “why do you wanna know-ahh!” Suguru slid his hot tongue up your pussy causing a delectable sensation to overcome your train of thought.

“Sorry couldn’t help myself,” Geto gave a mischievous smirk as he pulled a couple of inches away from your desperate cunt. “I only ask, because what Satoru and I are about to do to you… will cause you to lose interest in any other man you thought you liked.” Suguru stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Do you think you’ll still like him, after this?” Gojo asked while snaking his hand to your ass, gently squeezing your squishy flesh.

Their words slightly confused you. The way Geto phrased his statement and how Gojo asked that question; you couldn’t help but think that they might have deeper feelings for you. Otherwise, why worry about what you feel and who you like? You suddenly realized what tremendous power you had over them. “Mmh, I’ll tell you later.” You looked down at the men between your legs with a newfound confidence you didn’t know you had. “Also can you pass the blunt?” You flashed them a heart-stopping smile, rendering both Satoru and Suguru speechless.

“Here babe,” Satoru floated the blunt up to your lips with a tempting look in his hooded eyes. You inhaled as the smoke-filled your senses. Once you exhaled, the blunt sailed back down to Satoru’s lips. It was all so clear now, you felt like a queen atop her throne, looking down at her peasants. You felt it in your soul that both Gojo and Geto had deeper intentions for you, and the thought of that made your ego skyrocket.

With that being said, Suguru leaned forward and plunged his sneaky tongue inside of you. Pleasure shook you to your core and you instinctively clenched around him. He twirled his tongue around inside of you as his nose brushed against your clit deliciously. He retracted his tongue and smooched your clit hungrily, gently sucking and swiveling around your delicate bud in the process. His hot mouth drove you wild and amazing pleasure clouded your senses.

Satoru grew impatient even though Suguru had just started to devour you. Therefore, he leaned forward and began to kiss and suck on the inside parts of your thighs. While his kisses trailed up and down your leg, you felt his hand roughly fondle your ass.

Suguru focused on pleasuring your clit, he sweetly sucked on your sensitive bundle of nerves, which made you writhe around in delight. Small cute gasps escaped your lips while he snacked on you. You felt one of his long fingers gently prod your damp opening. Geto felt his dick rage upwards upon feeling your wet readiness.

“Can I finger you?” Suguru asked you sweetly. You looked down to see his handsome face at your core. The way his dark narrowed eyes locked with yours, and how his long hair messily fell in front of his face. Made you feel incredibly needy between your legs. It’s as if he had some sort of enchantment over you.

“Yes, but be gentle.” You blushed shyly while enjoying the way Gojo was massaging your plump ass cheeks. Satoru gave you a devilish sneer while he snaked the hand that was on your ass to your upper back. He expertly undid your bra with one hand, and your tits bounced free. Both Gojo and Geto eyed your breasts as if they were the most wondrous things they’d ever laid their eyes on.

Suguru then rested his mouth back onto your clit as he gingerly inserted the tip of his index finger inside of you. He went in ever so slowly until he was knuckles deep. Despite trying to relax, you couldn’t help but tense up at the stretch inside of you.

“It’s ok baby…” Suguru mumbled onto your clit, the vibrations from his voice felt scrumptious on your cunt. “Just relax. It’ll feel better soon.” He cooed as he gradually slid his finger out of you and it felt you could breathe again. But the time of having his finger out of you was short-lived when he stuck it back in lazily. This time the pain wasn’t as prominent, it helped that Geto was softly sucking your clit in the process.

Suguru knew that he’d have to prepare you thoroughly until the time came for you to take his and Satoru’s dick. The way your walls clenched around his finger, made his cock leak more precum down his shaft. He made sure to be extra careful with your virgin pussy when he started to pump his index finger into you at a quicker pace. As his plunging finger increased in speed you couldn’t help but feel excited. The ache of pain was still there, but you were able to move past that point. Now the natural sensation of pleasure was becoming more prominent.

“How does it feel?” Geto asked while giving your pussy sloppy kisses.

“It feels better.” You sighed, now being able to relax onto his mouth and hand a bit more easily.

“Good. Satoru, care to join me?” Suguru asked while taking his mouth off of your core, his lips were shiny from the mixture of your arousal and his saliva. Gojo perked his head up from off your thighs, you glanced down to see the masterpiece of hickeys he left on your thigh.

Satoru brought his right hand up to your face, “Suck ‘em.” He ordered and you obediently obliged. His pointer and index fingers invaded your mouth. You greeted his digits with your tongue as you sucked them off graciously. He playfully lodged his fingers down your throat, and to your surprise, you took them without a problem. Earning a pleased smile from the white-haired man. Once his fingers were well coated with your saliva, he removed them from your mouth. He placed his index finger at your entrance, right next to Geto’s.

“Ready?” Suguru asked you with a genuine smile.

You nodded anxiously, and with that, both men simultaneously inserted their pointer fingers inside of you. The stretch was more noticeable than Suguru’s single finger, which caused slight unpleasantness. However, the pain vanished once you started to focus on the erotic feeling have having both men finger you. You leaned back in the air to get more comfortable. You felt yourself saturate onto their pumping fingers, the extra lubricant helped them set into a faster rhythm. Small sighs of satisfaction escaped from your mouth once they sped up.

“Shit, she’s so wet.” Groaned Satoru as he shoved his finger into you extra deep, earning a sultry whine to come from you.

“Mmm, you like it when it goes deep?” Gojo muttered while deliberately pumping his finger into you while Geto pulled his finger out. This new sensation of their fingers repeatedly plowing into you, made you clench around them needily.

Geto’s finger in. Gojo’s finger out. Gojo’s finger in. Geto’s finger out. This rhythmic pattern collided into your core forcefully. You felt entirely euphoric at the overwhelming pleasure.

You felt Suguru’s free hand reach up to lightly caress your breasts. His fingers focused on your erect nipples as he teased and played with them. Satoru brought up his other hand to stroke your clit. He rubbed it around in little circles, causing you to become an overstimulated mewling mess. Having both men worship you felt incredibly sensual. Even though experiencing pleasure with more than one person is considered taboo, this entire situation felt entirely perfect.

“I need to taste her,” Gojo grunted as he removed his hands from your privates. Suguru leaned over to kiss your thigh, giving his friend a chance to eat you. Gojo didn’t pass up on the opportunity and dove right into you. He hungrily snacked on your dripping cunt, you felt his tongue slither along your lips. You tasted heavenly to him, he slurped up your wet arousal. He had a wicked tongue and plunged it into you at an incredibly fast speed. He flicked his tongue up inside of you, which caused more sparks of electricity to run through your veins. “Oh! Satoru!” You whimpered out. What had he just done?

You felt him smile cockily against your privates, “you like that?” He mumbled while keeping his blue glowing eyes locked with yours.

“Mhh-hmm.” You affirmed nodding your head. He zapped his tongue over that spot inside of you briefly, but then he teasingly pulled away. Earning an annoyed glare from you. “Keep going.” You whined, giving him your best pleading look.

“Oh?” Gojo hummed, as he gave your slippery cunt a ravishing kiss. “I think I want to hear you moan my name a couple more times before I do.”

“You’re arrogant Satoru.” Geto chided while leaving loving hickeys on your left thigh, mirroring Gojo’s.

“Shut the fuck up, and don’t be jealous when Y/n cums on my face instead of yours.” Satoru snarked as he plunged his tongue back into your pussy. He scooped his tongue inside of you, loving the way you’d squirm under his mouth.

“Mmh-Satoru…” You moaned when you felt him reach that delectable spot inside of you. He used a bit more force, which roused more pleasure within your core. “Gojo, please-“ he pounded his tongue against your G-spot relentlessly. You instinctively tried to close your thighs together, but both men between your legs prevented that. You had no idea that having Gojo eat you would feel so… incredible. Like a flash of lightning, you felt yourself release onto Satoru’s greedy tongue. He drank you enthusiastically while stroking his lengthy rod.

Suguru forcefully moved Satoru away from your core so he could steal a taste of your delicious nectar. His hot and skilled tongue easily slipped into your cunt. He slurped what was left of you and then he grabbed your waist and pulled you down into his lap.

“I can’t take it anymore, I need to be in her now.” Growled Suguru, as he positioned your petite body down to his raging dick.

Your body rejected his actions and hovered over to Satoru’s lap, “Who decided that you’d take her virginity? I want to.” Gojo retorted with an arched brow, as his iridescent eyes glowed blue. He possessively wrapped his arms around you.

Geto directed his attention towards you and gave you a heated kiss. “You want me to do it? Or him?” You could taste yourself on his lips.

Due to how buzzed and turned on you were, it honestly didn’t matter who did the deed at this point. “Someone just fuck me now. Flip a damn coin if you guys want.” Your soft voice spoke out in the steamy hotboxed room.

“Good idea.” Satoru purred, as he dug in his pocket to pull out a shiny silver coin. “If it’s heads I get to take her virginity, but you get to finish in her. If it’s tails you take her virginity and I get to cum in her.” Gojo exclaimed, then handing the coin over to you. “Care to do the honors babe?” He gently nibbled on the crook of your neck, earning delightful shivers to crawl up your spine.

You took the coin from Satoru’s large palm and flicked it with your thumb. It shot into the air vertically and you caught it with your right hand. You opened your palm to reveal, heads.

Satoru gave your waist a celebratory squeeze, “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t get carried away Satoru,” Geto advised, rolling his eyes with a wry smile. He decided to prepare himself another blunt since he wouldn’t be enjoying you at the moment.

Gojo knew exactly what position he wanted you to be in when you took his dick for the first time. He shimmied his pants and boxers off, while simultaneously taking his shirt off. You felt his skilled hands then pull your wet underwear off and down your legs. He turned you around in his lap so you straddled him, like the way he had you before. You couldn’t help but admire his lean and toned body. You felt him rub the head of his cock against your slick entrance. However, instead of shoving it in like you were anticipating, he crashed his lips against yours feverishly. You kissed him back eagerly and held onto his broad shoulders for balance. His tongue tangled with yours passionately, all while you felt him slowly inch the head of his dick inside of you. This time it wasn’t as painful, probably because you got fingered thoroughly.

Excitement overcame your senses while the two of you made out, your needy little pussy wanted to feel more of Gojo’s long rod. Therefore, you lowered yourself a bit further down onto his sprung dick. Satoru gasped with surprise when you took the initiative, he was exceptionally pleased, to say the least. You felt his infamous smile against your lips as his left hand gripped your plump ass firmly. He was about two inches inside of you. Now you were able to feel the slight sting of being stretched. You pushed the feeling aside and felt confident enough to take more. Your breath hitched, and it felt like the room was getting hotter. You glanced over at Geto who eyed you seductively with the blunt between his lips. He was watching you two with a lustful expression as he lazily jacked himself.

“Anxious aren’t we?” Gojo hummed, enjoying the snug squeeze that surrounded the upper part of his cock. With his other hand, he gripped your waist a bit more securely and forcefully brought the rest of his length inside of you. Pain struck you like a slap to the face, he was much too big for you. You tried to cry out in discomfort but no sound came out. As a reaction to the strain, you dug your nails into his shoulders. Knowing you’ll leave little crescent marks behind.

“She’s so fucking tight.” Satoru hissed out in pleasure, fully relishing in your comforting tightness. His lips collided with yours, he made sure to not move in you just yet. He brought his face over to your ear and whispered, “How are you holding up? Does it hurt?” He said almost tauntingly, his shimmering blue eyes looked at you friskily.

“You’re too big.” You mewled pathetically; as soon as those words left your mouth you felt his dick twitch up inside you. Earning a small whimper to come from your throat.

“Oh, dear. Regretting the consequences of your actions? Want me to stop?” He cooed with fake sympathy while giving your neck some love bites.

Your cheeks blushed, “N-no…” You murmured, “I want to go through with this.”

“Good girl.” Satoru hummed in the crook of your neck. He then pulled away to study the desperate look on your face. “No need to be insecure, you just need a little time to… adjust.” He lifted your waist so his cock exited your body. The second his shaft was out of you, you felt so empty. He then brought you back down onto his dick swiftly, filling you up completely.

This time you let out a pain and pleasure mixed moan. Gojo repeated the action to you again, you noticed he entered your pussy much easier this time. He set into a rhythm of pulling out entirely, and then sliding back into you. Each thrust was more pleasurable than the last, you felt yourself instinctually moisten around his intruding cock.

“Mmh, you’re getting so wet for me.” Satoru groaned softly, “I bet you couldn’t get this wet for the guy you like.” Gojo sneered while bullying his rod inside of you with a bit more force. This time you both moaned out in delight.

“Why should it matter if I like another guy? I’m having sex with you aren’t I?” You retorted breathlessly with slight annoyance.

“Oh, so should I feel honored that you’re letting me dick you down? Must mean you like me or something.” Satoru grinned at you cockily with a playful glint in his eyes.

You blushed, “What, no...” You gasped and tried to look away shyly. In response, Satoru gripped your throat roughly and angled your jaw so you looked at him. When he wrapped his hand around your neck, you couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling. Your pussy subconsciously squeezed his dick inside of you.

Satoru felt that and smirked at you knowingly through his clouded gaze, “What’s his name?” Without warning, picked up the pace and began to rapidly bounce you onto his elongated dick. He watched the look on your face change into one of pure bliss as he fucked you ruthlessly. “Is it me?” His cock ramming into you persistently made it hard for you to focus. “Or Suguru?”

“N-no. I don’t want to tell you. Mmh… Satoru!” Having him fuck you so vigorously made you go dumb with pleasure.

“Tell me.” Gojo eyed you, while he shoved his length into your wet heat. Loud moans escaped your lips as his heavenly dick claimed your pussy.

“Mmh! So good….” Was all you could muster up, while he pounded you with ease.

“Tell me,” Satoru repeated himself with a hint of strain in his voice. The grip he had on your throat tightened as he bounced you on his shaft with impressive speed.

“Yes! Keep… going.” You whined out wantonly, you could feel your walls clench around his rod with appreciation.

“Only if you tell me,” Gojo grunted, his pumping dick became erratic as he chased after his sick pleasure. The thought of fucking you in front of his friend boosted his ego tenfold. He was in love with your sexy moans. Especially the way your slick and tight pussy felt, you took his dick so perfectly. He didn’t care if he made it obvious that he had deeper feelings for you. He knew if he fucked you good enough, you’d have no choice but fall for him. He’ll make you forget that other guy you liked.

The incredible ecstasy Satoru made you feel caused uncontrollable tears of desire to spill from your eyes. Never in your life have you felt such amazing euphoria. You could feel your release boiling to the surface.

“You cryin’?” Satoru mocked, while he relentlessly hammered his elongated dick up inside of you. “So it must be me then, huh?” He grunted with a smug look on his face. His white hair fell messily in his reddened eyes. Knowing that he had you crying because of his cock made pride well up in his chest.

All you could do in response was shake your head ‘no’. You didn’t want Satoru to know the truth, especially if he got it out of you in such a lewd manner. When you planned on confronting your feelings, you didn’t expect the truth to come out through a brutal fucking.

“Perhaps let me have a try? I think I can get the truth out of her.” Suguru spoke out, reminding you that he was still watching the both of you.

“Go ahead. I’m about to cum anyways.” Gojo traded you for the blunt that was in Geto’s fingers. He floated you off of his glorious dick without hesitation and directed your body over to Geto. You immediately missed the way Satoru was fucking you, but you were also looking forward to having Suguru inside of you.

Suguru reached up to embrace you on his lap sweetly. You noticed that he was still fully clothed. You hastily tugged at the hem of his shirt. He got the idea and popped his top off with a dashing smirk. You couldn’t help but blatantly admire his muscular physique.

Speaking your thoughts a quiet “fuck me.” Came from under your breath.

Geto was also cherishing your small naked body hovering over his, “You’re so impatient.” He eyed you while the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “If that’s what you want-” Suguru then lunged forward with you scooped up in his arms. He swiftly laid you down on the couch and situated himself between your thighs. “Then that’s what you’ll get.” Without warning he shoved his long and eager cock inside of your hot cunt.

The overwhelming feeling of being filled up made you arch your back in delight. “Oh! Yes!” You cried out in satisfaction.

Suguru groaned softly in your ear, you felt so slick and inviting for him. “You feel amazing.” He then gave the shell of your ear a tantalizing kiss.

Due to how saturated and horny you were, Geto didn’t have to hold back or wait for you to get used to his dick. He gently guided your legs over his shoulders and plowed into you furiously. His toned hips slapped against your smooth thighs, causing clapping sounds to fill the room. You two fit so well together, it’s as if your body was made for his.

“Shit, Satoru got you so fucking wet.” He hissed under his breath. Suguru never looked so handsome; the way his sultry narrowed eyes looked down at you with approval made you wetter if that was even possible. His long hair fell in front of his face to form a cascading curtain that shielded you from Satoru’s hungry gaze. Suguru surrounded you, his entire being dominated your senses, and you felt high off his glorious presence.

“It’s me isn’t it?” Geto muttered while bringing his hand down to your clit. He rubbed fast circles over your sensitive bud, making you writhe underneath him in delight.

“Oh! Suguru!” You whimpered out, the combination of his pumping rod inside of you and his teasing fingers made your pussy squelch him deliciously. Geto couldn’t help but let out a small groan of pleasure in return.

“I’m the guy you like, aren’t I?” He murmured while increasing his speed. You weren’t able to look away or avoid his gaze, so you closed your eyes and focused on his perfect dick. “Look at me,” Geto commanded as he slowed his thrusts down into sloppy ones. "Tell me you're mine."

With his speed dying down, it brought you back to reality. “I'm yours! Now, fuck me Suguru!” You whined, desperately moving your hips against his, yearning for more friction.

“I am.” He winked down at you with a devilish grin. He set into a steady rhythm of shoving his lengthy cock inside of you nice and deep. Even though his thrusts were prolonged, he still had so much power behind each one. Your whole body shook every time he came back into you.

You were able to hear the gushy slick sound of his dick entering and exiting from your cunt. If someone were to walk by the dorm’s door, they would know what exactly was going on. Those lewd noises filled the room along with the smoke from Satoru’s blunt.

“Satoru, her mouth looks like empty. Better come fill it.” Geto stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as he leaned back onto his knees. You immediately missed the closeness of having Suguru on top of you. But having Suguru pump into you at this angle was quite enjoyable. He kept your legs resting on his shoulders as he pounded into you vigorously.

Satoru got to his knees next to your head and brought his girth to your lips. “Open up dear,” Gojo asked almost sweetly, he gently placed his hands on your head and guided the head of his cock to your mouth. You opened for him and sucked his tip, you felt him push more of his length into your mouth. Soon enough he was down your throat while you choked on him. You did your best to calm your breath, but it seemed difficult. Especially when Suguru would ram into you forcefully, causing your whole body to move. Each thrust from Getou would make Gojo’s dick jostle in your throat roughly. It felt too suffocating, yet so arousing at the same time.

Gojo was much too big for you, and it didn’t help when you would feel his tip twitch down your throat with delight. “Keep it there. Just like that.” He groaned softly while eyeing you with ratification.

Geto’s thrusts began to get more erotic. He pumped his hips against the back of your thighs, causing loud slaps to echo through the room. His lengthy cock rammed into you persistently, you soon realized that you liked getting fucked rough. It felt extremely heavenly each time he slid back into you. You became breathless as he plowed into you rabidly.

You looked so ravishing in Suguru’s eyes, you took his dick excellently, all while deep-throating Gojo. He knew that you were on the verge of release, and wanted to make sure you came together. Yet, another side of him wanted to make things a little more interesting.

“If you cum within ten thrusts you gotta tell us who you like.“ Suguru instructed while admiring the way your breasts would bounce each time he plowed into you.

“Anh-m. I dnh-“ you tried to say through Gojo’s meaty dick. Satoru pulled his cock out of your comfortable throat, so the tip of his penis rested against your lips. His rod was slick with your saliva. “And if I don’t?” You flashed Geto a playful smile.

“Daring aren’t you? Trust me, you will.” Suguru chuckled, “But if you happen not to, then we can drop the question. And you can pick our punishment. Deal?”

“D-“ Satoru cut you off while he impatiently shoved his dick back in your throat. He loved the way he could see the outline of his penis in your neck.

“Sorry hun, but if you don’t swallow all my cum, then you’ll owe me another round at my place.” Satoru winked down at you flirtatiously.

“Mmh-hmm.” You hummed with agreement. Gojo then leaned forward to grab a hold of one of your nipples to tease.

“Okay let’s start the countdown.” Suguru stated with a hazed look in his eyes, “Ten…” He slammed his cock into your dripping cunt deliciously, causing you to moan onto Gojo’s dick shamelessly.

“Nine…” Suguru’s long fingers swiveled over your clit briskly, while he kissed your right ankle that was resting on his broad shoulder.

“Eight…” Geto’s thrusts were quick and decisive, making your pussy squelch him with an intense neediness.

“Seven…” He grunted out, Suguru was on the verge of release but he knew he could wait it out until you came first.

“Six…” Satoru’s left hand gripped your hair tightly, while his other hand was big enough to fondle both of your nipples at once; sending waves of delight to your core.

“Five…” Gojo fucked your throat with a sense of urgency now, he was getting close and couldn’t wait to feed you.

“Four…” Geto’s dick hit your G-spot with intense precision and your walls fluttered around him with ecstasy.

“Three…” So close, you were so close you were able to see stars. The stimulation from Suguru’s plunging dick and Gojo’s teasing fingers, made mewls of pleasure come from your throat and around Satoru’s girth.

“Two…” You couldn’t take it anymore, the way Suguru pounded against your sensitive spot relentlessly sent you over the edge and you drenched his cock in your release. You held nothing back and unleashed the waterfall that you held within you.

“One…” Geto groaned out, as he filled you to the brim with his seed. You were able to feel him shoot his massive load up against your cervix, knowing that it would reach your womb in no time.

“Shit… get ready to drink it all babe,” Satoru growled out while plunging his shaft down your throat one last time. His thrusting hips came to a stop as a copious amount of his juice filled your mouth. You felt his hot liquid squirt down your throat sporadically. You did your best to swallow it all, but his seed filled your mouth faster than you could drink. Small strands of his milky white cum slid out from the corners of your lips and down your chin quickly.

“Aww too bad, you were so close,” Geto uttered breathlessly, as he slowly pulled his length from your drenched cunt. He couldn’t help but watch in pride as his cum mixed with your release flooded out of your pussy like a burst dam. You felt it run down your bubbly ass cheeks and onto the couch cushions below you.

Satoru gingerly removed his softening cock from your mouth, his time well spent. “It looks like you owe me a round two back at my place.” He smirked down at you as he wiped some of his cum off of your chin with his thumb. He brought his finger to your mouth and you obediently licked it clean. His gaze was full of pride and approval. The redness in his eyes was less prominent, meaning he must be sobering up already.

“I look forward to it.” You eyed him briefly while hunching up on your elbows. Even though you lost both bets you felt as if you were on cloud nine.

“So do you still have feelings for that guy?” Suguru asked inquisitively, as he helped you sit up on the couch.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, “Yeah, I do.”

A flash of disappointment flickered in Satoru’s eyes, “even after that?” His voice sounded slightly insecure.

“As you said, I’ve lost interest in other men.” You glanced toward Getou’s warm gaze, then you shifted your sight over to Satoru, whose blue eyes glinted towards yours.

“So you like Suguru and I?” Gojo eyed you curiously.

You nodded hesitantly, “Yeah, the ‘guy’ I like is you two.” You nervously glanced between them both. “You’re not planning on using me, right?” You asked trying to hide the wavering in your voice.

“Of course not,” Satoru was quick to answer, “the truth is, shortly after getting to know you I admitted to Suguru that I wanted to be more than just friends with you. And he thought the same.”

Your heartbeat increased, “really?” Your mousy voice was barely audible.

“So I proposed an ultimatum,” Suguru replied, “because we both had deeper intentions with you… I felt like it would be fair if you decided which one of us you wanted to pursue. And we weren’t allowed to straight up ask you out or make a move on you, unless you did first.”

You let out a small laugh, “wow you two might’ve had to wait forever because of how timid I can be.”

Suguru chuckled and gripped your thigh softly, “Yeah, good thing we got you high enough to ask us how to kiss.”

“That’s right! All of this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t ask.” Satoru smirked while draping his arm over your shoulders comfortably.

You gave both men your gorgeous smile, “So as long as I can say I belong to you both, do what you want with me.”

Surugu leaned down to press his lips against yours, “You should’ve asked us how to kiss sooner.”

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thydungeongal · 7 months ago

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Many D&D 5e DMs ignore the game's own suggested structure of having multiple encounters per adventuring day, and while they aren't entirely wrong to do so (the suggested number of encounters per adventuring day doesn't quite line up with the actual math of the game nor does it produce enjoyable gameplay for those who don't enjoy D&D's combat, i.e. the part that D&D is the most about so you know what are we even doing here). Instead they focus their attention on trying to run only a single, narratively satisfying combat encounter. Which often works against itself because you will find yourself hard-pressed to get a dramatic combat out of a single battle in D&D 5e when player characters will be going into battle at full resources.

Because in most cases D&D's resource management is really at its best when it's not about managing resources within a single encounter but over multiple encounters. If you can expect only one encounter per adventuring day "should the wizard cast fireball now or save it for later" really isn't a relevant question in most encounters. In most cases the answer is "cast it now because the more enemies are dead by the end of this round the fewer attacks the party will have to potentially suffer next round."

And it often ends up eliminating all tension as well. If characters can count on having all their resources available for their one combat encounter of the day then they can pretty much rest assured that they will have enough healing and damage at their disposal to eliminate the enemy. The GM can hope to alleviate this by adding enemies that can take out party members quickly, but it is a risky proposition in many ways: the dice can swing one way and eliminate a player character before the group has a chance to react at all, which isn't exactly a failure on the party's part, it's just dumb luck (now, dumb luck is sometimes a valid way to introduce tension, but in the context of an encounter that is supposed to feel dramatic a character being taken out during the first turn before there is any input on the player's part can feel anticlimactic). Characters have very limited resources available to them to actually actively mitigate damage. Most of the time if a character loses initiative they are at the mercy of the enemy, being entirely reliant on the enemy rolling low on their attack/them rolling high on their saving throw. Some characters have reactive defenses available to them, but that's the thing: only some of them.

On the other hand things swinging the other way and an enemy having a single bad round during which they fail to deal meaningful damage to the party can conversely begin a death spiral for the enemy, where characters will be able to reserve resources that would normally be spent fighting back against enemy assaults on simply focusing on damage.

Of course this hasn't always been the case in D&D: the conventional wisdom in older editions was that player characters would have to delve into dungeons on limited resources and conserve those resources throughout the adventuring day. And this basically is how 5e is supposed to be run: but for a variety of reasons it also runs against the idea of combat being dramatic. If most combats during an adventuring day are just obstacles to be overcome, it eventually does make combat feel routine. Which, you know, somewhat also undermines the idea that combat is supposed to be dramatic.

But also, on a per encounter level, there was a brief moment in a bygone age known as "fourth edition" when player characters regardless of class had meaningful decisions to make within an encounter: compared to 5th edition, daily abilities were at a premium, which makes sense, because in 5th edition the assumption is that characters will have more daily resources they must juggle throughout a long adventuring day. 4e does also assume multiple encounters between long rests, but its adventuring days are noticeably shorter. Furthermore, healing is a finite resource in 4e on both a day-by-day and an encounter level. Characters can take a second wind action once per combat to spend a healing surge to recover some hit points, after which they are reliant the party's leaders (whose standard healing abilities are limited to two uses per combat. Scary!). And while 4e combats could also get swingy, the numbers were usually set up in such a way that a single swingy round would usually not take a player character from 100 to 0 percent. Like in 5e, most characters lacked reactive defenses, but they usually still had time to act before they were dropped.

But even 4e didn't fix one issue of D&D combat: that it often lacks permanent consequence beyond just "your character is dead." This is of course not an issue for the type of play that D&D natively supports and there are exceptions to this rule in the form of some creatures that can inflict other consequences on characters, but due to the abstract nature of D&D's combat the outcomes of combat are usually "my character fell to 0 hit points and died" or "my character dropped the enemy to 0 hit points and they died."

Speaking of those alternate consequences, an encounter with a basilisk that turns a party member into stone isn't necessarily fun as a dramatic combat encounter because it simply takes out one party member from the action, meaning they don't get to enjoy the afterglow of having defeated the enemy. Or if they do it's because a party member could cast a spell that undoes the petrification which is like. Oh, the character was only dead temporarily. You know what genre of play temporary death as a minor setback works really well in? Dungeon crawling. It also ties nearly into the logistical side of the game.

Anyway, point being, there are multiple contradictory design issues inherent to the very idea of combat and how it should be handled in tabletop RPGs and not a single correct answer. But D&D does not natively support a model of a single dramatic encounter per day, because that runs against the game of resource management and attrition inherent to it. D&D's combat can often lack tension on a per-encounter basis, but that tension arises are the very latest once characters need to start conserving their resources.

Or idk.

#dungeons and dragons #long post

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nahoyasboyfriend · 1 year ago

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Burning desire

warnings: professor and student, fem!reader, shameless smut, creampie bc why not, choking (it's James what did you expect), readers a love(lust)struck loser who likes her teacher.

Word count: 4.8k

A/N: first time writing something on that more the 2k. This isn't proofread, but I hope it's to your liking. This is kinda old so it might be bad. Hope you enjoy!

You arrived fairly early on the first day. It wasn't really intentional—you live only a few blocks away and paranoid that you have somehow overslept, rushed to get ready. Thankfully you aren't too early for the door to be locked, just enough for the classroom to be mostly empty of students. There were two other people in the room, pulling paper and pencils out their bags and not paying you any mind. You make yourself comfortable in your seat—not too close but not painfully far from where the instructor will be—and follow in their example.

With nothing left to do, you pull out your phone to mindlessly scroll until class starts. In the midst of liking some random post, your phone buzzes—the low battery notification pops on the screen. You would forget to charge your phone last night. Sighing, you reach into your bag to grab your charger, sifting through the content of your bag only to find it not in there; you must've left it at home. Just great. After your phone dies, you have no other choice but to either look blankly at your desk or watch the few people here.

You find your eyes flitting across the room to them; it's not like you don't watch people when you're bored anyway.

When you've had your fill of observing, the door opens—it looks like your teacher has finally arrived. You watch the man get himself ready for the upcoming lecture; he’s busy arranging some paperwork so you take the time to ogle him shamelessly. He looks young, maybe around his early thirties. His hair is slicked down to perfection and he has a little pencil mustache—He is, admittedly, rather handsome.

You hadn't expected that. You weren't quite sure what your expectation was—probably thought he'd be some fourty-year old depressed asshole whose wife doesn’t love him. Yeah…that'd be the type of person who looks like they’d teach a course like this one.

Suddenly, he glances up, probably to check how many people had come in. Still, it scares the living daylights out of you—you rip your gaze away from him. Opting to snatch up your phone and pretend you have more interesting things to look at besides your teacher, you feel your face warm up when you still feel his eyes on you. The sound of his chair scraping the floor pulls everyone's attention to the front; he saunters over to the board and jots down his name with Expo marker.

“My name is Mr. March,” he declares with a smile. Oh fuck, he has a nice voice.

You don't pay much attention to the rest of his introduction, but you still enjoy the timbre of his voice. Instead, you go back to admiring his looks in a totally-not-creepy way. He looks like money-personified; the black vest, the white button-up underneath, and the pair of black pants are all crisp and obviously made with premium material. He even walks with a grace that most lack,talking in a manner like he is more of a socialite than a mere college professor.

More students start to flow in and by the time Mr. March is through with going over his expectations for the semester, everyone is seated and ready for class to start.

In the row ahead of you, a group of girls were quietly debating amongst themselves if he was single or not. You would've laughed if you weren't curious yourself. You spent the remainder of class staring at him without listening to a word that left his pretty mouth (later on you beat yourself up for not taking notes). His voice was hypnotic, each word sinking you deeper into whatever trance you were in. He was refined… elegant. Every movement looked calculated.

Honestly, he could be one of those old Hollywood stars. Face perfectly sculpted to be plastered on billboards; a smile born for posters. Briefly, you wondered if you were to go searching that you'd find him in a classical film.

Then, he's looking at you and the world stops—it shouldn't be anything mind-blowing because there's really nothing special about it, but still, you find yourself immobilized. His voice is syrupy, smooth, and mind-numbing. He clears his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks expectant, like he's waiting for something. He definitely asked you a question. Scrambling through your racing thoughts, you just stare dumbly at him, waiting for him to repeat whatever he had asked. He doesn't.

“I, er, don't know,” you mumble sheepishly. He quirks an eyebrow at that, painfully unimpressed. He doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity and his silence suffocates you. The only sounds in the class were a few chuckles from other students. You shift in your seat.

“You would've known if you had listened to me,” he lightly scolds. You nod, hoping that'll be enough to show that you get his point. He furrows his brows, and he looks like he's about to push it further. Luckily, he takes mercy on you and simply repeats the initial question.

A few more giggles, and the class is back to normal. You'd think being publicly berated would be enough for you to learn your lesson, but it isn't. Because soon enough, his words are going in one ear and out the other—the words meld together into a pleasant hum in the background.

Before you know it, class is over. You bite your lip as you hurry to pack your bags, the shame from earlier returning like a punch to the gut. You don't dare look in his direction, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You scurry out the door, and thank the lord he's your only class of the day.

You let out a long-awaited sigh as you burst through your front door, haphazardly throwing your bag in the corner—you can finally decompress. You study until you feel like your head is about to burst to keep your thoughts off of him and the rather embarrassing way your first day ended.

It's been a few weeks since you got chastised for being an absent-minded idiot, and despite the embarrassment you can't bring yourself to be mad at him. Instead of anger, or even mild annoyance, all you feel is attraction. You try to deny it, bottle it up and push it to the back of your mind. Innocent fascination is what you label it. His passè charm and unconventional way of speaking is why you can't get him out of your head. That's the real reason all your thoughts lead back to him. Why at night you get struck with downright obscene visuals of him. You don't touch yourself— At least not in reality.

The you— you’ve conjured up in your head does, she touches him too. She fondles him in places you'll never see—let alone touch in real life. He says things to her that you'll never hear. He gradually seeps into your dreams, when that happens you wake up with damp underwear, and humiliation that settles deep in the crevices of your gut. It makes seeing him so much worse, but something about him captivates you.

You find yourself sneaking glances when you're convinced he isn't looking– It's the only thing you can't seem to stop– so you indulge. The only rule: don't get caught. And that sounds pretty easy to adhere to. Just don't look too long.

Simple, right?

Naively, you were confident you could do it. It worked for a little while. But at some point, you got complacent. Assured yourself you wouldn't get caught because you were doing so well. Your eyes meet in slow motion, or that's how it felt to you. In the middle of personal study time, so you had no real excuse. Neither of you break eye contact for a few more seconds, and he has a plain, almost bored expression on his face.

Ducking your head down, you stare at your blank paper. You don't pretend to write anything. It's pointless now. You’d been caught red-handed. You simply sit there, wallowing in your shame. That's become your favorite pastime lately. Deciding enough time has passed, you peek up. He's gone back to whatever he was writing and you decide that now is the time to actually write on your paper.

Class ends and you're packing up. You don't rush today, taking your time collecting your things.

“a word, please.”

You swallow dryly, cemented in place. Hesitantly, you peer up at him. His eyes bore deep into your soul like two black voids sucking you in. Growing impatient, he adds: “Yes, you. I'd like to speak to you.”

You dwandle your way to him. He doesn't rush you, at least not verbally, but by the look on his face your torpor was getting under his skin. You pick up the pace. Finally, you reach his desk. “You, um, wanted to speak to me?”

“Mm,” He clasps his hands, sitting them on his desk. “I called you here to discuss your grades,” he says, “you're a clever girl, we're both aware of that. You could be doing so much better, but there's something distracting you, correct?”

For a brief moment thick, uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you. You rummage through your brain for explanations. How could you tell him that he's the distraction? That all your troubles were somehow connected to him.

“I, uh, haven't been keeping up with my studies lately,” you stammer, “My sleep schedule has been kinda messed up,” Because of you. “So, when I get that in order I should be good.”

He frowns, narrowing his eyes slightly; he doesn't look convinced. Standing up, he makes his way to you. He stops in front of you, looming over you like a shadow. He's of average height, but you still have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You’re struck by the fragrance of his cologne— god, he smells amazing. He places a hand on your shoulder, you tense up almost immediately. His hand is so big. Shaking those thoughts away, you nervously await his next word.

“If you don't compose yourself, I fear I may have to take on a more… hands-on approach.” he tuts, giving your shoulder a nearly painful squeeze. You blink, dazed. You swallow once more, desperately trying to wet your throat. “I understand,” you utter, voice airy like you'd been running a marathon. You feel dizzy. His words buzzing in your head like tv static.

You honestly just want to get out of here, and wait out the heat that’s building between your thighs. Pleased with your response, he smiles at you. A lazy, feline grin, and you can see the slight indents of his dimples.

“Wonderful!” He replies, gleefully. His hand lets go of your shoulder. Your skin is still throbbing from the contact. “Well, then, you're dismissed.”

When you make it inside, you're panting, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from speed walking all the way home. You let your bag drop onto the floor, unconcerned with where it lands. You sigh, exasperated. There's a pressure in your chest, or it could be described as a warmth. Or an ache. Or all those things at once. You weren't sure— nor do you really care. All you know is his words keep replaying in your head, muddling all your thoughts.

You practically run to your bed, exhausted from your own thoughts. Before you can attempt to stop it, he's invading your head for the umpteenth time. You groan. That warmth in your chest begins trickling down, pooling in the space between your legs. You can still feel his hand on your shoulder, the dull ache of the squeeze. Flipping onto your back, you stare vacantly at the ceiling. You could only deny yourself for so long. Placing your feet flat on the mattress, your hand slips past the band of your panties. A little relaxation couldn't hurt. Especially with how pent up you've been, It was well deserved.

You let out a breathless little whine when your fingers brush your swollen clit. God, you needed this. You run a finger through your folds, the slick sticks your skin. Using your wetness to ease the friction, you rub slow circles on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut. You could see him on the back of your eyelids. Your hips buck up pathetically into your own hand. You're leaking, cunt quivering around nothing.

You could still smell him. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, even now it lingered in your nose. Rich and velvety. Something that wealthy decadents would wear just to let you know you'd never be able to afford it. You push a finger in, various curses fall from your lips. His hands– my god, his hands. They're so big. So strong. You slip another finger in. The heel of your hand grinds against your clit, and the feeling sends chills down your spine.

You're a writhing, squirming mess on your bed. The squelching from your fingers thrusting into your dripping cunt has the tips of your ears burning, but you don't stop. You picture him, his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, methodically fucking them in and out of you. You imagine him curling them inside of you, and you mimic the motion in real life, sending another rush of slick gushing out. You think about the sweet purr of his voice, urging you on— instructing you to cum, so you do. You come hard, mumbling his name like he's your new god.

The shower after is long and quiet, you spend a good portion letting the water run down your body to soothe your tense muscles. You don't play any music or hum anything. You’re barely thinking. Your only goal is to get in bed and pass out. And when you finish, that's exactly what you do. You snuggle into your covers and as soon as your head hits the pillow you're out.

Your eyelids slowly peel apart; heavy. Your entire body feels like a bag of rocks. You lie there, taking long, drawn-out blinks. There's a strange peacefulness in the air. None of the usual worry that fills your head, no noise besides your soft breaths, and the sweet song of the birds outside. You prop yourself up, reaching out to your bedside table to grab your phone. With a click your phone turns on, the sudden light blinds you. Blinking away the blurriness, your eyes begin to focus on the big white numbers: 11:25

You stumble out of the comfort of your bed. You have five minutes to get ready and head out the door. Running to your dresser, you pull out some clothes to wear. How you manage the sleep through your numerous alarms was beyond you, but nevertheless that didn't turn back time. You shuffle into your bra, throw the shirt over your head, and jump into a pair of pants. You're able to get the important parts of your morning routine done. Besides a few things like washing your face and properly brushing your hair. Giving yourself a once-over, you decide you don't look too bad. Just a little lazier than normal but casual enough. Sighing, you depart to class.

Standing in front of the door, you take a deep breath, straighten your back. You can already see his face, his mouth pressed into a hard line. A flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You knock on the door, and wait for it to open. When you hear a soft click, you push the door open, hurrying to your seat. When you sit down, you glance at him and he's already looking at you. Face devoid of any signs of what he's feeling. You pluck the needed supplies out of your bag, and he continues the lesson.

The class goes excruciatingly slow. Focusing seems near impossible, so you resort to scribbling down anything you deem important without actually listening to what he's saying. Which you can only hope doesn't bite you in the ass too much in the future. The class comes to a close, and before you can even think about leaving he's calling your name. You wince, forcing yourself to walk to his desk. He's definitely gonna tear a chunk out of you.

“Sir?” You mutter, ashamed.

“You were late,” he states, plain and simple. His words linger heavily in the air.

“I, um, slept in. I apologize, it was a mistake on my part.” You sputter, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. He lifted his head, eyes piercing into you. Your mouth squeezes shut.

“you slept in,” he echoes, empty. With a stern tone, he adds, “Excuses will not be tolerated, especially after I gave an explicit warning to get yourself together.”

You feel queasy, like your stomach rolling in on itself. You don't know what to say. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, rattles your ribcage, reverberating through your entire body. You don't know what to do that doesn't make you seem more of a fool than you already are. So you say the only thing that's worked for you so far.

“I know, sir. I am truly sorry.”

“Indeed you are,” he purrs as inches closer to you, fingertips dragging against his desk. His intense eye contact frightens you, makes you feel like he'd put a giant red target on you: open prey. A strange, uncomfortable heat flushing your body, feels akin to little fires starting from the tips of your fingers. He stops in front of you, closer than you would deem comfortable, but you couldn't move— something willing you to stay right where you are. A need.

You feel trapped, or rather, you're paralyzed. Even though there's nothing constraining you, and all you have to do is walk out the room. You can't move; his eyes immobilize you, demanding that you stay. Reluctantly, you obey. He settles a hand on your shoulder, “yet, you're not sorry enough to listen.” Before you can defend yourself, his hand slowly starts traveling up, gently wrapping around your neck. You notice, but oddly enough, you choose not to question it. “So, I must ask, what's distracting you? And there's no need for any falsities, my dear.”

You freeze, eyes wide. Dumb and glassy, fawn-like. “it’s- it's really not important, and I promise that I'll straighten out my behavior. It's been a rough week.” you murmur, the tips of your ears burning.

He frowns, hand flexing around your neck. You don't know if it was intentional, but it gets his point across all the same. “Like I said, there's no reason for further deception.”

Sucking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, you mentally agree he's right and getting it off your chest could probably do you some good. “It's you. You're my problem– or my distraction, in your words.”

He doesn't look fazed. In fact, he looks like he knew before you even opened your mouth. He looked like he could tell you every thought you had verbatim. After a moment of silence, he inquires, “how long?”

Innocuous, but still you shy away from him. Your mouth squeezes shut, and your head is about to turn to the side, but he's capturing your face in his hand— forcing you to look at him. His grip is firm, nails lightly digging into the fat of your cheeks.

“since the, um, first day” you murmur, skittish.

He gives a slight nod. He knew you were attracted to him, but he had ignored it. Flicking off your open desire as a fleeting crush. That, like the other girls, you'd move on. Unfortunately for the two of you, you never did. But day after day of seeing the desperation mixed with adoration swirling around in your big, bright doe eyes, even though he would never speak it aloud, stirred something in him. And now, you’re in front of him with your heart in your hands. that pathetic, helpless look on your pretty face. it set something off within him, a spark of heat he couldn't ignore.

“Is that so…” he responds, casually. Offhandedly, even. He’s pensive, looking at you with a blank face. He’s always withdrawn, always hard to read. You never can guess what's going on in that head of his, and that was something you admired. But right now, you wished you could crack open his skull and hear his thoughts for yourself.

The tension is tangible, turning the air thick. You wish he would do anything to rid you of this horrible ache in your chest. Shoo away the sinking pit in your stomach that grows the more his silence drags on.

“Do something,” you whisper. You don't know what to expect. You can't begin to predict what he'll do with your confession, but you figure he'll send you off with a broken heart and your tail tucked between your legs.

His face scrunched up, and then it straightened out. turning eerily calm with a strange sense of resolve. unceremoniously, his mouth crashes into yours. hungry and ravenous. For a second, you didn't reciprocate. you were stupefied by his forwardness. you had expected many things but not a kiss. After gaining your bearings, you carefully carefully began to kiss back, following the pace he had set. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. you whimper, and he lets out a low groan, lapping away the metallic liquid.

your heart hammered in the confines of your chest. you were high off the taste of him. a mixture of mint and nicotine. you wanted more, you wanted everything he was willing to dish out. your hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. it was so surreal— his warmth, his scent, his lips on yours. it was something you couldn't let fall through your fingers. Then without pulling away, he’s spinning you around, backing you up until you're perched on the edge of his desk.

Your mind is misty. your vision blurs at the edges like a gossamer film is covering it. If it's from the lack of oxygen, or how incredibly unreal the situation is still impossible to ascertain. He pulls away to attach himself to your neck, leaving feverish open mouth kisses on your neck. You can feel him inhaling against your skin, breathing you in. Without warning, he digs his teeth into the thin skin between the junction of your neck and shoulder.

He laves his tongue over the indents left behind, and you take it as a silent apology. James squeezes your thigh, massaging it. You’re soft to the touch, pliant. Almost pillowy. His hand snakes down, down, down. Slipping into your pants, past the band of your panties. His fingers brush against your sensitive clit, and you spread your legs further to give him more room. You're leaking over the pads of his fingers, and he dips lower, collecting it. He smears your wetness on your aching bud in tight, deliberate circles. You let out soft pants, rolling your hips against him, desperate for more contact.

“More,” you whine. A small pout tugging at your plump lips.

“you want more, hm? Such a greedy little thing you are,” he croons, giving your clit a mean pinch. It yanks a squeal out of you. The melange of pain and pleasure confuses you, entices you. You give him a meek nod tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. He plunges two fingers in your needy cunt, and your back curves. He hums, pumping his fingers into you with a steady pace. He rolls your aching nub beneath his thumb. It's methodical, automatic. Downright robotic the way he splits you apart on his nimble fingers. He touches you like he's known you for an entire lifetime, strumming your chords like he knows exactly what to do to make you cry out.

His fingers are long, slender, and so, so pretty. And god does he know how to use them. With pinpoint precision, he's curling his fingers inside of you, pressing that spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into your skull. You're gushing around him, and the squelch of it is obscene. It's embarrassing how you fall apart merely from his deft fingers. Nonsensical babbles fall from your mouth, too high off pleasure to make sense, but he doesn't seem to mind. Soon, a coil begins to tighten in your groin. A buzzing heat in your lower region. It's undeniable, inescapable.

“M gonna cum, don't stop– please, please, please.” You babble, your fingers gripping for purchase on his desk.

Frissions of pleasure shoot through your body like lightning. Your mouth falls agape, and you tilt your head back. The coil snaps, and you quickly begin to unravel around his fingers. He eases you through it, doesn't stop until you've stopped trembling, and then he's sliding you off the desk. He turns you around, and places a sizable hand on your back, bending you over the table. He hastily tugs your pants down, leaving them bunched up at your mid-thigh.

You feel the tip of his cock probe your entrance. Nervous, you press your warm face against the varnished wood, letting a wave of relief wash over you from its coldness. He doesn't give you time to prepare before he's bottoming out. The stretch burns, a dull incessant ache. You don't realize you're gritting your teeth until the feeling ebbs and shifts into velvety pleasure. To your surprise, his thrusts are a measured pace, rhythmic. Maybe he was taking mercy on you, but he quickly loses the pace for something rougher. Fast and hard, thrusts that jolt you forward, edge of the desk biting into your hips.

“is this what you wanted? to be bent over my desk like the needy little harlot you are.” you let out a high pitched whine at that, cunt fluttering around his cock. he was so crude, so incredibly mean, but he was right. he's so right that it's embarrassing.

you feel a vascular hand wrap around your neck, tugging you into an arch. “say it, tell me this is what you wanted,” he grunts, hips snapping hard against yours, it was downright painful.

“this is what I wanted,” you cry out, nodding your head. “good girl,” he utters, his tone ominously dark. it sent chills racing down your spine. his other hand wraps around your neck, and he begins to squeeze. at first, it's harmless, it's not tight enough to do damage, just applying pressure. it wasn't until he didn't stop squeezing that you started to panic. eyes going wide and glassy, your hands tried to peel his hands away to no avail. so you tried to scratch at them, in hopes that he'd finally pull away. but he didn't budge. your lungs were starting to burn, your thoughts getting increasingly fuzzy.

despite all of this, he didn't stop his ruthless thrusting. your cunt clamped down on his cock, squeezing him for all that he's worth. your vision starts to blur, everything begins melting together. your hands drop back down to the desk, and you can feel yourself going limp in his hold. you couldn't tell if you were simply going to pass out, or if you close your eyes you're going to die, but you didn't want to find out.

a dribble of drool slinks down your chin. your head is throbbing. there's a dull ringing in your ears, and it's becoming harder to keep yourself awake or alive. feeling your eyes closing on their own, you felt stinging tears rushing down your cheeks. then, you felt it, a sudden warmth in your lower region. that familiar ache in your womb. a few more harsh thrusts, and you were leaking all over his cock. he followed suit, thick ropes of cum fill you up soon after. thankfully, he let go. you thought he was going to kill you for a second.

gasping, you lurched forward, letting yourself rest on the desk. your head was spinning and your legs felt like jello. you didn't speak, just laid there. It takes you a minute to collect yourself. Especially after fearing for your life. You were pretty sure he was going to kill you. He pulls out of your wordlessly, slipping his cock back in his pants. Once you convince yourself that you're okay, you pull up your pants. The feeling of his cum gushing out of you is kinda gross but you can deal. You're going straight home anyway so you can wash it off when you get there.

He doesn't say anything until you're walking away, "I hope to see you again tomorrow. We still have much to improve after class."

The implications are enough to have you red-faced and very excited for the day to come. You don't know why you're still fooling around with him. Despite the fact that he may be dangerous. It entices you further like the dumb little girl you are. So, like an idiot, you give a coy smile over your shoulder, "yes, Mr. March. I'll be there."

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toomanyassassins · 3 months ago

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but see the thing is, the utterly delicious irony of red valley s3, is that its all of these rich and important people essentially buying and bidding and fighting each other at gun point to get their own guaranteed spot in a tomb.

everyone expects that sometime in the future there will be brilliant scientists who learn how to heal every illness known to mankind and in due time they will revive their frozen ancestors and patch them up. and then the party can continue! a man is dying from a heart attack and instead of trying to resuscitate him, they play him a cheerful outro song as he's carted off to the human freezer. how will the future humans save that man? doesn't matter -- its neither clive nor pam's problem. leave that to the doctors of the future!

except the world is actively dying around them, and most likely large swaths of the population will go with it. they predict the earth will be uninhabitable for the next 1000 years. where will these future scientists come from? will civilization have survived, much less recovered to the point of advanced medicine, by the time those ideal 1000 years are over?

"doesn't matter," the wealthy say, "not my problem!"

this whole time these rich idiots think they're fighting and killing each other over a spot on a lifeboat. but there is no Carpathia that will be there to rescue them. their bodies will simply sit there in hermetically-sealed tubes, in technology that theoretically can last up to 1000 years but obviously remains untested on that front. and they have to hide their "nests" well enough that the rioting hordes of the present can't find them, but the scientists of the future can.

and even if it all works out. even if humanity outside the cryopods survives the apocalypse and recovers, and even if the batteries for the cryopods last all 1000 years... clive and pam and everybody else never bother to ask the most obvious question of all:

why should those future scientists help them?

they will be the descendants of those who couldn't get on the "lifeboats," who grew up hearing tales of the Old Guard: a class of uber-wealthy who caused the downfall of the environment, who sentenced billions to death, and then climbed into their little personal freezers so they wouldn't have to face the consequences of their own actions. its like asking somebody if they want to wake up the balrog -- why resurrect the very group of people who doomed humanity before?

bryony got it right when she was sawing off the head of the "yoghurt lord" -- everybody being cryogenically preserved is just fighting to get a very fancy tomb. a higher class of dead. premium dead.

#red valley #red valley spoilers #clive schill #as you can see i have a lot of Thoughts about this podcast

117 notes · View notes

ilovefictionmen · 21 hours ago

Text

Giving the nerd an erection (1st part)

○o。..。..o○○o。gojosatoru x reader 🔞 .. o○○o。..。o○○

ctto of the pic

🔞○o。..。o○○o..。o○○o。..。🔞o○○o。..。o○○o。..🔞

Gojo Satoru was not the kind of boy who get flustered.

His days were predictable: school, study, manga, rinse, repeat. He liked it that way. People were chaotic. Girls were confusing. And real-life romance? Meh. His heart only sped up for two things: ranking S-tier waifus and finishing his physics homework a week early.

He liked things in control.

–———————————

Gojo had just finished his physics homework, stretching his arms lazily above his head. The clock read 4 PM. His classes ended at 3, and he never waited until the evening to finish assignments. If anything, he liked knocking them out the moment he got home—or sometimes even during a quiet vacant period at school. Now that the academic part of his day was over, boredom crept in.

The house was silent. His parents weren’t home yet. With nothing better to do, he rolled over to his desk, woke up his computer, and clicked open Discord. His usual server popped up—a group chat full of anime-obsessed degenerates, just like him. They were already deep in conversation about the latest manga release of their favourite series.

Gojo smiled as he joined in, typing fast and keeping up with the chaos. The familiar back-and-forth was comforting. But just as the mood was hitting its peak, one of his friends dropped a message that broke the flow:

“Yo, check this out 👀”

[https://onlyfans.com/softlynsinful]

Gojo blinked at the screen.

OnlyFans?

Now that was unexpected.

Gojo squinted at the Discord message as it pinged again, followed by an explosion of laughing emojis and thirst comments from his friends.

“Bro she’s top tier.”

“This the baddie I was telling y’all about—premium content fr.”

“Try checking it out Gojo.”

He adjusted his glasses, unimpressed. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing back.

“Lmao why are y’all so down bad. That site’s gross.”

He sat back, mildly annoyed—well he does watch hentai but watching people exposing their bodies? Hell nah. The soft hum of his PC fan filled the room, mixing with the fading golden glow of late afternoon filtering through his curtains. Outside, birds chirped lazily and the occasional sound of a distant car passed. Everything felt normal. Chill. Boring, even.

And yet… he stared at the message again.

The link just sat there. Glowing blue. Mocking him.

He exhaled sharply, spinning in his chair and muttering under his breath, “Degenerates.”

Still… his curiosity stirred. Not about the link. Of course not. Just… purely academic. Maybe he wanted to see how cringe people could get. That was all.

With that extremely flimsy excuse in mind, he clicked.

His screen dimmed slightly as the page loaded. A soft white background faded into view, and there it was:

onlyfans.com/softlysinful

At first, all he saw was a locked profile—blurred teaser thumbnails and rows of locked posts. He was ready to exit out and feel smug about being above it all…

Until he saw the profile picture.

His cursor froze.

A close-up cosplay shot—cropped tightly. The unmistakable outfit of his favorite waifu: the signature red ribbon choker, black lace gloves, and that dangerously familiar low-cut corset.

Except the photo was zoomed in… and only the chest was visible.

Tasteful. Subtle. Just enough to recognize the character—but framed in a way that made his brain buffer.

His heart skipped.

“…No way.”

He leaned forward. Squinted. There was something oddly perfect about it. The stitching. The detail. Even the ribbon looked like it was hand-tied, not a cheap factory knockoff and the way the boobs were pushed-up making it sit so perfectly.

His screen cast a pale glow across his face as he leaned even closer, now genuinely intrigued. The username hit differently now too—"softlynsinful ". Cute… but with a bite..haha..

He clicked on the “About” section.

"For the boys who like their waifus soft-spoken and a little wicked."

He blinked. His throat went dry.

That line felt… weirdly targeted.

He pulled away from the screen and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around his room like someone might be watching. The silence felt thicker now. The birds had stopped chirping, and all he could hear was the slight creak of his gaming chair as he leaned back, dazed.

“Okay, that’s weird…” he muttered. “No way it’s just coincidence.”

He swallowed, then slowly leaned forward again, eyes scanning every line of the photo, every tease of shadow and curve. The blurred thumbnails below only made it worse—more cosplay sets, hints of lace and silky stockings, but nothing clear without subscribing.

His finger hovered over the

Purchase for $9.99 button.

He sat there.

Silent.

Frozen.

Then closed the tab.

Hard.

He leaned back in his chair, dragged his fingers through his silver-white hair, and exhaled slowly.

“Nope,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m not doing this.”

Even if she cosplayed his favorite waifu to near perfection, even if her voice was as hypnotic as it was sinful—he couldn’t bear watching people get naked on screen. Real people.

Too much. Too intimate. Too human.

He wanted to stay where it was safe—where no one reached through the screen and looked back at him.

He shut his laptop, grabbed his manga, and buried himself back in his world of panels and printed ink.

—–——————————

Gojo’s life went on like clockwork.

He sat in his usual corner seat near the window, glasses slightly crooked, notes colour-coded to absurd precision. His pencil case had exact measurements for every pen. His binder had tabs. He had tabs for his tabs.

His classmates gossiped, flirted, slacked off. He just tuned them out.

But during science class, everything shifted with a single announcement.

“For your partner projects, I’ll be pairing you up randomly.”

He barely looked up, too busy finishing a sketch of a Gundam unit in the margins of his notebook.

“Gojo Satoru and (Y/N). You’re together.”

His pencil snapped.

He looked up.

Across the room, she glanced back at him.

(Y/N). The girl with the honey-glossed lips. The school's silent storm. Elegant, sharp, unapproachable—yet somehow always at the center of attention.

Everyone liked her. He didn’t care. At least, he thought he didn’t.

She approached his desk, graceful like always, her hair tucked perfectly behind her ear. “Looks like we’re partners,” she said with a soft, almost bored smile.

He blinked. “Oh. Cool.”

You raised a brow. “Cool?”

“Yeah, you know… it’s fine.”

She nodded. “We should probably meet up this week to plan the layout.”

He hesitated.

He really didn’t want her seeing his room—posters, figures, limited-edition body pillow (still in the box, but… it was there). The idea alone made him want to drop out.

“Uh… I mean—would it be okay if we met at your place?” he asked, almost too quickly. “Not because I don’t want you at mine, I just—mine’s a bit… cluttered. Like… aggressively cluttered.”

She gave him a strange look. Not quite surprised. Almost amused.

“Sure,” she replied. “My place works.”

He blinked again. “Really?”

“You thought I’d say no?”

“I mean, a little…”

She tilted her head. “Well, lucky for you—I’m curious what a nerd like you is like outside the classroom.”

———————————

Her house was quiet, set in one of the nicer neighborhoods. Gojo stood on the porch holding a folder, trying not to psych himself out. He’d worn his cleanest hoodie, sprayed a little cologne—not too much—and debated for five minutes on whether to bring snacks (he didn’t).

The door opened before he could knock twice.

“Hey,” she said, stepping aside.

Gojo stepped in and froze.

The scent hit first—vanilla, tea, and something like sweet incense. Her room was upstairs, and when she led him in, he felt… disoriented. The walls were soft beige, the curtains a plush maroon. Blue LED strips lined the ceiling, bathing the room in a gentle, atmospheric glow. The shelves were lined with books, makeup palettes, and tiny decorative fox statues. A folded tripod leaned in the corner beside a ring light, both tucked away neatly. Her desk was clear, laptop open. The bed was made with crisp black sheets and an oversized plushie resting near the pillows.

It was clean. Meticulously clean. Everything in its place.

And yet…

Something about it felt… familiar.

His eyes lingered on the way the light hit the wall. The way her blanket was folded. The faint shimmer of the curtains.

“Your room’s really… clean,” he said carefully, voice soft.

“You sound surprised.”

“No—no, it’s just… kinda impressive. It’s like… studio-level clean.”

She smiled at him, eyes glinting. “Studio, huh?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like something you’d see in a… uh, lifestyle vlog.”

He didn’t know why that word felt like a lie in his throat.

She sat down cross-legged on the floor and motioned for him to join her. “Come on. Let's start.”

They went through the data, working side by side on the graphs. She leaned over sometimes—just close enough for her perfume to sneak into his senses. Her voice was low, soft, and confident as she explained her half of the research.

But the whole time, he couldn’t shake the strange feeling in his chest. Her room. The lights. The scent. The mood. It all pulled at something tucked in the back of his brain.

Something unspoken.

Familiar, but not quite real.

He didn’t question it.

Not yet.

Gojo tried brushing it off. That sense of familiarity clinging to him like static the entire time he was in her room. The lighting. The furniture placement. The curtains. Even the colour of the LED glow on her ceiling—blue, soft, but almost… too familiar.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t ask.

He told himself it was just déjà vu. He’d probably seen something similar in an anime, right? Or maybe in a vlog setup tour or one of those bedroom aesthetic Tumblr pages. Yeah. That was it.

Right?

Still, the itch at the back of his mind wouldn’t leave.

Eventually, they finished going over the last bit of the project. She stretched, arms above her head, hoodie riding up slightly as she let out a soft sigh. Gojo quickly looked away, pretending to adjust the charts on his laptop even though they were already perfect.

“You did a good job,” she said, watching him. “You’re a lot less awkward once you start explaining stuff.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s easier to talk when it’s about data, not people.”

She smiled at that, and it made his stomach twist.

“You want to stay for dinner?” she asked. “My parents won’t be home until later. I was just going to order something.”

His throat went dry.

Stay?

In this room?

With that feeling still scratching at the back of his skull?

He shook his head, a bit too fast. “Uh—no, thank you. I should probably head home. My parents are probably wondering where I am. I said I’d be home by seven.”

It was a lie. His parents never asked. But he needed to get out of there. Not because of her. She was… well, she was intimidating, yes—but kind. Gentle. And he liked being around her.

It was the room.

The way it haunted the edges of his memory like a dream he was almost remembering.

“Alright,” she said simply, walking him to the door. “Another time, then.”

He muttered something like “Yeah,” and waved awkwardly before making a half-jog down her steps and out to the street. The evening breeze was cool, but his palms were clammy, and his heartbeat didn’t settle until he was halfway home.

At home, things were normal. Comfortably so.

“Hey, kiddo,” his dad called from the kitchen as Gojo stepped inside.

“Hey,” he replied, slipping his shoes off. “I ate already.”

He hadn’t.

He just didn’t want to sit at the dinner table with that buzzing in his brain. He grabbed an apple on the way to his room, mumbled a “Thanks,” and shut the door behind him.

Silence.

His room smelled faintly of paper and instant coffee. His posters were right where he left them. His action figures, perfectly arranged. His laptop hummed to life as he flipped it open. Familiar. Grounding.

He sat at his desk, opened a textbook, and stared at it blankly for fifteen minutes before giving up and tabbing over to Discord.

His usual group chat was buzzing—

The Waifu Wars server.

"YO SOFTLYSINFUL DROPPED AGAIN"

" bro this one… this one did things to me "

" the second pic? NASTY. i’m unwell "

" she’s not even real how is she killing me like this "

Gojo’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.

He hadn't even looked since that night when he saw her thumbnail and immediately closed the tab.

But now… curiosity flickered.

"link for science"

"🔥🔥🔥 onlyfans.com/sftlysinful//I’ve been such a good girl today... don’t I deserve to be ruined just a little?💋// "

There it was again.

That name.

sftlysinful

Taunting him.

He stared at the link. His cursor hovered.

“Just a peek,” he muttered under his breath. “One peek. Just to see what they’re freaking out about.”

Click.

The page loaded with a soft, dark theme. Purple and black. Elegant, not trashy. And there, dead center, was her profile photo.

No face. Just a cropped photo—cleavage framed in silky black cosplay fabric, red-painted lips visible in the corner. But Gojo’s eyes weren’t on the body.

They were locked on the background.

The glint of the curtain behind her.

The faint edge of a blue LED glow curling around the ceiling.

His stomach dropped.

Wait.

No way.

He clicked the photo, enlarged it.

Same. Damn. Curtains.

His mind started sprinting.

No face. But the same curtains. The same glow. Even that tiny fox figurine tucked in the corner of the desk.

It was Y/N’s room.

His blood ran cold.

Y/N… had an OnlyFans?

It didn’t make sense. She was popular. Perfect. Reserved. Elegant. Why would she need to do something like that?

He leaned back in his chair, mouth dry.

“Maybe… she rented the room?” he whispered.

He knew how dumb that sounded.

There was only one way to find out.

He scrolled.

One photo had a paywall. The caption read:

“For my favorite silent boy. You know who you are.”

Gojo hesitated.

Everything inside him screamed not to—

He made an account. It wasn’t like he was going to buy the pics every day. Just…curious. Like only now.

So he made an anonymous one. BlindfoldOtaku.

He clicked.

The charge processed. Instantly, three photos appeared.

His breath caught in his throat.

The first:

Her. In full cosplay. That same tight red-and-black bodysuit from a certain fighting anime. She was leaning against her desk, one leg crossed over the other, lips parted, eyes hidden under her bangs. Fully clothed—but suggestive. Her fingers brushing the zipper near her chest.

The second:

Same outfit—but now the suit peeled off halfway. Her undergarments matched the character’s palette. Her pose was lazy, lounging on the bed, hand on her thigh, lips slightly smudged from the gloss.

Gojo’s face turned crimson.

And the third—

He stared.

Same makeup. Same wig.

But this time, her body was bare beneath the cosplay details. Every inch of her exposed, posed carefully, strategically, but with nothing left to the imagination. The costume accessories still clung to her arms and neck—those iconic gauntlets, those perfect twin buns—boobs.

She wasn’t looking at the camera.

She was looking through it.

Like she knew exactly who was watching.

Gojo didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

His hands trembled on the mouse. His brain short-circuited. That feeling of familiarity bloomed inside him again—but now, it was in full bloom.

It was her.

His partner. The girl who sat beside him in class, who had just offered him dinner like it was nothing.

He leaned back, exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for an hour.

He felt dizzy.

Not disgusted.

Not disappointed.

Just… completely, absolutely stunned.

“…Holy shit.”

He didn’t even process it.

He turned off his pc immediately, like it had burned him. Like the screen was cursed. His breath caught in his throat, chest tight.

"What the hell did I just look at?"

He sat frozen for a full ten seconds.

Then ten more.

Blank. Flushed. Absolutely wrecked.

He pushed his gaming chair back—hard—wheeling it across the room with a sharp screech. He stared at his desk like it was tainted. Like it had become something unholy.

Because it had.

Because she was on it.

Not some random cosplayer. Not some faceless girl behind a blurred lens.

Her.

Y/N.

He stood up too fast, legs shaking. Every nerve in his body was electric, skin too hot, brain malfunctioning. He ran a hand down his face, and it came away clammy. He looked at it like it had betrayed him.

He needed to cool down. Literally.

He grabbed a towel and bolted for the bathroom, not saying a word as he passed his parents’ room. Not thinking. Not breathing right. The door shut behind him, and he stood under the sterile bathroom light, chest rising and falling like he’d just finished sprinting a mile.

He turned on the shower.

Freezing.

Water hissed from the faucet, crashing into the tub with a violent rhythm. He stripped down fast, trying not to think—but everything he saw came back in vivid detail.

That final photo.

The third one.

The one that felt like it had rewired his nervous system.

She had been fully made up. Cosplayed. Styled. Perfect. Every detail sharp and intentional—like she was acting out someone else’s fantasy.

But the pose? That was hers.

The way she looked through the camera like she knew exactly who was on the other side.

Like she was staring into him.

Gojo stepped into the shower, and the shock of the cold water hit like a slap.

“Shit—” he gasped, grabbing the tile wall for balance.

Goosebumps bloomed across his arms. His hair stuck to his face as the freezing water crashed down his neck, across his back, down his spine.

He let it.

He wanted it.

Anything to erase what was now seared into the folds of his memory.

But it didn’t work.

Even under ice-cold pressure, the image didn’t fade. It came back sharper. Her thighs, the tilt of her hips, the subtle arch of her back as the accessories of her cosplay clung to her wrists like restraints, her boobs flashed and the hint of her pussy showing.

His jaw clenched.

“No, no, no—come on—” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut, head resting against the cold tile.

But his body was already betraying him.

That slow, warm ache low in his gut. The rush of heat pooling even against the icy water. His hands stayed braced against the wall, muscles tense.

He opened his eyes and stared at the drain below him.

This wasn’t happening.

Not to him.

Not to the guy who literally turned red if a girl even complimented his penmanship.

But his body had made the call for him.

He was hard.

Under freezing water.

From a single image.

Of her.

He let out a shaky exhale, water streaming down his chest, throat dry, mind spinning.

How could something feel so wrong and so unreal at the same time?

Was it the taboo? The secret? The fact that she was untouchable in real life—graceful, flawless, unreachable—and yet bared herself so openly behind a screen?

No… it wasn’t just that.

It was her.

The way she teased. The way she knew.

The way she looked at the lens like she’d planned the exact effect it would have on him.

He shut his eyes again and whispered to no one:

“…What the hell are you doing to me?”

The cold water hit his back like a slap.

"Be normal. Be normal. Be normal."

He stood in the shower, eyes wide, body stiff—in more ways than one.

“Why—why the hell did I click it?” he muttered to himself, voice echoing against the tile.

He’d just wanted a peek.

A harmless glance at what his Discord friends were screaming about. One little view. Just curiosity.

But now?

Now his brain was fried and his—

"Oh god."

He looked down.

Still hard.

Still throbbing.

Rock hard cock wanting to be touch.

He cupped his hands over his face. “Please, for the love of all things holy, calm down,” he whispered like he was bargaining with a wild animal. He tried reasoning with it—thinking about physics equations, balancing chemical formulas, how bad Bakugo’s wig looked in season three.

Nope.

Nothing worked.

In fact, he made the mistake of brushing it downward while rinsing shampoo from his chest.

That was it.

That was the final boss mistake.

“Shit—shit—shiiit.”

He slapped his hand against the tile and let out a pained breath, shoulders hunched forward like he was trying to hide from God.

His mind said no, but his body was, his dick was staging a rebellion. The third photo of her—Y/N, in nothing but styled hair, fox ears, a choker, and soft lighting—was burned behind his eyelids. Every time he blinked, it flashed back in 4K.

His lip twitched. He looked at the drain.

The silence in the bathroom was almost religious.

“… I can’t,” he groaned.

But he could.

And he did.

Well, the bathroom was far from his parent's room and the running shower blocks the sound he could possibly make won't be heard. Because he was going to explode. Because it wasn’t just the pic—it was her.

Her voice. Her smirk. Her scent still clinging to his nose from earlier.

His back pressed against the shower wall as his hand slipped down, like he was committing an unforgivable sin in a sacred temple of shame and steam. He shut his eyes tight, heat curling low in his stomach, hips jerking before he could stop it.

He started stroking his hard cock slowly, up and down. He moaned quietly, imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead of his own. He was getting insane. He wasn't supposed to think about this shit, not you, not him having the thought of you getting pound by him with your boobs bouncing on top of him... but his mind betrayed him—his dick too

As he stroked faster and harder, he pictured you naked in front of him, begging for him to take you right then and there

”Yes baby… take my cock… you feel so good around me… I'm going to fill you up with my cum…” he whispered with heavy breaths.

He rubbed his sensitive shaft, he imagined you moaning and begging for more as he thrust deep inside your tight pulsing pussy. It was fast. Too fast. Embarrassingly fast.

He's eager.

"Fuckk..." he groaned speeding up his strokes as his mind blurred out with just you. You on top of him bouncing along with your big tits as if they were jumping on some trampoline.

He grunted, stroking faster and harder. His balls tightened as he neared another orgasm, the intensity of his arousal overwhelming him. He's gonna cum..

Because of her

"I'm gonna cum..." He cried out whisperingly as he finally reached his climax, spurting thick ropes of cum all over his abdomen and fingers.

When it was over, he just stood there… stunned. Chest heaving. Eyes unfocused.

Water still pouring down over him.

Like he needed to be baptized.

He stared at the ceiling.

“…I’m going to hell.”

———————————

The next morning felt like a moral hangover.

Gojo Satoru walked into school with his head high, tie slightly crooked, and soul completely fractured.

He had seen things.

Unholy, perfect, dangerously addicting things.

And those things had come from none other than the girl currently taking her seat two rows ahead of him in homeroom.

Y/N.

Not just any classmate.

Not just the silent, unreachable school goddess.

But sftlysinful.

The reason he had to take two showers last night.

His jaw clenched as he kept his gaze strictly forward. He would not look at her. Nope. Not at the glossed lips that looked too familiar. Not at the sway in her walk that matched the teasing clips online.

Definitely not at her thighs.

He was strong. He was composed. He was—

“Hey,” she said, sliding into the seat beside him in science class.

System rebooting. Please wait.

“Uh—hey,” he croaked, pretending to flip through his notes when in reality he couldn’t read a single word on the page.

She smelled good.

No, not good—sinful.

Soft vanilla and something he couldn’t place. Something dangerous. The kind of scent that stayed in your hoodie and haunted you at 2AM.

She crossed her legs under the table and—god have mercy—her thigh brushed up against his jeans.

Barely. Just a little touch. Probably not even on purpose.

But to Gojo?

It might as well have been a full-on lap dance.

His spine stiffened instantly, the tiniest shiver shooting down his back. He felt the betrayal in his own body before he even had a chance to think.

"No no no, not now. Not here!" He thought

He shifted in his seat slightly, praying it looked casual. But the tightening in his jeans was undeniable.

He was hard. In class.

In freaking science class.

Because of her thighs brushing his jeans slightly.

He gulped, palms starting to sweat.

Y/N leaned in a little, pointing at something in the lab packet. Her hair fell over her shoulder, grazing his arm. Her voice? Soft. Low. Just for him.

"You're not reading anything, Gojo."

His eyes flicked to hers.

Her eyes Innocently meet his.

He swore his heart stopped for a full two seconds.

“I—I am,” he lied, clearing his throat and trying to subtly adjust himself under the table.

No good.

It was still there. Loud. Proud. Hard as a steel beam behind his binder.

Her knee bumped his again. This time, it felt… intentional.

He tensed.

Y/N tilted her head. “You okay? You look a little… warm.”

Warm?

He was on fire.

Brain fried. Dignity gone.

Sanity evaporating with every second she breathed in his direction.

He tried focusing on the whiteboard. The teacher was explaining something about molecules. Or atoms. Or explosions.

Which was ironic, because Gojo was about to explode if she didn’t stop looking at him like that.

He pulled his hoodie down slightly, letting it drape over his lap. Just in case.

"J-Just tired," he mumbled.

“Hmm.” She leaned in again, her lips way too close to his ear.

“Maybe you need a release.”

He froze.

His pen dropped.

She smiled sweetly and picked it up for him, brushing her fingers along his.

“From stress,” she added innocently. “Obviously.”

He stared at her, speechless.

She turned back to her worksheet like she didn’t just nearly give him a full-body malfunction.

Gojo looked up at the ceiling.

“God, if you're watching... I swear I'll stop watching anime girls in bikinis if you just get me through this class without dying.”

He mentally ranted.

But he already knew.

He was doomed.

And the worst part?

He liked it.

The second the final bell rang, Gojo was gone.

He didn’t even bother saying goodbye to his friends—wait he doesn't have school friends. No casual anime banter. No manga store detours. He walked home like a man possessed, gripping his backpack like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to Earth.

The moment his front door closed—

BAM.

Shoes off. Bag dropped. Straight to his PC.

He slammed the power button, monitor flickering to life as he breathlessly dropped into his gaming chair. His hand twitched above the mouse.

Not for Discord. Not for homework.

For her.

Sftlysinful.

Y/N.

The girl who sat beside him in class not even an hour ago like nothing was wrong—like she wasn’t driving him to insanity.

He opened his bookmarks. Clicked her OF profile.

No new post.

His heart sank a little.

Why was he so desperate? He didn’t even understand it himself. But it was like some chemical reaction had gone off inside him ever since he figured it out. And now, every second without content felt like withdrawal.

His gaze drifted down the page.

Private photos. Locked. Dozens of them.

Different price tags. Some high. Some very high.

And then he saw one.

The title was vague. Just a smirking emoji and a flame.

But the price? Insane.

He hesitated.

Only for two seconds.

Then clicked “Purchase.”

His heart thundered in his chest. The kind of rhythm you get when you open a final boss door before you’re fully leveled.

And then they appeared.

Five photos.

Cosplay. Makeup. Her.

So much skin, but not just that. It was the details. The way she posed—confident but playful. Like she knew exactly who was watching. The way she tilted her head, the color on her lips, the props in the background…

And then—his throat dried.

The fifth photo.

Her legs were wide spread showing her exposed pinkish plump pussy, her fingers were inserted on her walls—she was touching herself

He made a sound. Some mix between a choke and a whimper. His brain was melting.

His hand gripped the desk, trying to ground himself.

Why did he do this? Why couldn’t he look away?

His thoughts were spiraling until—

Ping.

A message.

No.

No way.

He clicked it with trembling fingers.

sftlysinful: "Thanks for purchasing 💋 hope you liked it ;)"

BOOM.

His soul left his body.

He stared at the message. Then at the screen. Then back at the message. His cursor hovered above it like it could erase the entire situation.

His inner monologue was screaming.

“SHE MESSAGED ME. SHE—OH MY GOD SHE MESSAGED ME.”

He was frozen. Completely blank. Five minutes passed. Maybe ten.

Gojo sat there, motionless in his chair, staring at her message with the color drained from his face and blood rushing everywhere else.

He couldn’t even type a reply.

Did she know?

Did she recognize his username? Was it the blindfold I keep bringing to school and use whenever I feel like sleeping for a while?

Was this bait?

Was this… a trap?

He swiveled in his chair. Got up. Sat back down. Got up again. Started typing. Deleted it. Wrote something else. Deleted that too.

He wanted to scream.

She knows.

I’m gonna pass away.

He covered his face with both hands, trying not to combust. But every time he shut his eyes, he saw her—in full cosplay—posing like she could read his thoughts.

And now?

Now she was messaging him directly.

And all he could do was whisper to himself, like a haunted anime protagonist slowly losing grip on reality.

“…I’m so screwed.”

Gojo sat frozen, bathed in the cold white glow of his monitor. His gaming chair creaked beneath him as he slowly, slowly rolled back like he was trying to escape the screen.

His heart was hammering.

Like full-on JoJo battle music in his chest.

His mind was short-circuiting.

Okay. Okay, breathe. He could handle this.

She didn’t know it was him. Right? Right?

He had used his backup email. No profile picture. No username that connected to him. Just a vague, generic display name: "BlindfoldOtaku." Totally anonymous.

Totally… right?

He hoped.

With shaky fingers, he clicked the reply box.

"Your work is amazing! Really like the detail in the cosplay 👏 Big fan."

There. Simple. Vague. Respectful. Totally Not Gojo Satoru if she knows him truly.

He hit send, then immediately leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if divine judgment would beam down through the roof.

But then—

Ping.

sftlysinful : Aww, thank you! That means a lot, especially coming from someone who notices details. Most people just stare at... well, you know 🤫

God help him.

Gojo’s soul evaporated.

His ears were hot. His hands clammy. His thigh was bouncing so fast he could’ve started a small earthquake under his desk. The way she messaged… it was exactly like how she talked in real life. Kind. Warm. With that teasing edge that made him want to simultaneously hide in a locker and marry her.

He gulped, eyes skimming back to the set he’d paid for. Five photos. Her makeup was flawless. The wig was styled just like that character he definitely shouldn’t be associating with right now. Her eyes, half-lidded. Her smirk? Criminal. The light catching on her skin? Her pussy flashed? Fuck he needs it so bad right now Her big ass tits? Fuck he wanna bounce it.

Fatal.

He shut his eyes. Big mistake.

Because now all he could see was her. The real her. Smiling beside him in class. Laughing softly when he accidentally dropped his pen. Her smell when he entered her room–

Gojo sat up suddenly, smacking his cheeks with both hands. “No. NOPE. Not doing this again.”

He stood, pacing his room in slow, awkward circles, muttering equations under his breath.

Force equals mass times acceleration. Oxygen atomic number is 8. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell—

He paused mid-step.

Oh no.

It was happening again.

He looked down. Yep. There it was. His cock twitching like it had a mind of its own, pulsing for her name in morse code.

"Bro…” he groaned into his hands. “I need a lobotomy. Or an exorcism. Maybe both.”

He collapsed onto his bed dramatically, staring up at the ceiling fan like it might have answers. It didn't.

Thank god tomorrow was Saturday. No school. No Y/N. No sitting next to her with his entire soul screaming.

He curled up under his blanket, half-praying for mercy, feeling his throbbing cock wanting to be freed again. He stressfully ran his fingers through his hair.

"She's making me go insane" he groaned burying his face on his pillow.

There was a long pause when he slowly reached out for his waistband and inserted his hands touching his hard erection.

He winced, still face buried to his pillow. He slowly rubbed a finger against his swollen pink tip feeling his precum.

He's feeling stars right now as he begins to ejaculate again the image of her legs spread filled his mind.

Only her.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even know if he wanted to stop.

Using his precum to lube himself up before fully wrapping his fingers around the base of his throbbing length, strong and pulsing in his grip. He groaned burying his face even deeper on his pillow as he shifted his position sideways to properly stroke himself.

He started pumping his cock slowly just in the right pace knowing he'll probably cum right away based on his situation.

He could see you.

Through his vision.

Even if his eyes closed

It's you was there.

Whimpering while he fuck your brains out.

Marking you up entirely as his.

Fingering you till you squirt out your juices and cum all over his mouth and fingers.

Filling you up in your tight wet throbbing pussy.

And oh god how he wanted to be inside you right now. He wants you to bounce on top of him while staring at each other lovingly.

His stomach started twitching forming into knots forcing his abdomen to flex, he wanted to speed up he had to—he sped up stroking his cock. He could definitely see stars right now.

" fuck....." he groaned voice muffled against his pillow as sweats built up around his forehead despite the AC being on.

The mix of his precum and his palm sweats—well disgusting but it mixes well how much wetness he needed to lubricate his dick. The sound of his hand slapping against his skin filled the room. He let out a messy moan as he started to drool from thirst he feels right now.

"S-shit..." He hissed feeling his heartbeat in sync with the pace of his stroke. He's gonna cum.

The image of you flashed through his mind again, wide legs spread hole pulsating begging to be filled up by his cock.

With a few hard pumps he groaned thick strands of his cum splashed out of him, decorating his fingers and his sheets. He panted heavily shifting his head to look up at the ceiling.

It was fantastic.

He slowed down his stroking motions around his cock the throbbingness slowly subsided.

Ping.

His phone got a notification

He blinked. A new message.

His entire soul jumped like he’d been caught stealing from a shrine. Sitting up he immediately snatched his phone from his nightstand checking who messaged him at this hour.

Shit.

Y/n:

Hey Gojo! I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I was thinking we could finalize the experiment write-up tomorrow? Just to get it out of the way. If you’re free, you can swing by.

He stared at the message.

The silence in his room? Gone.

Replaced with loud, dramatic mental violins.

Not again, Satan.

Of course she’d message tonight. Of course she was being responsible and kind and thoughtful like the goddess she was.

And of course... Gojo’s brain betrayed him instantly with a flash of those photos.

He physically slapped the side of his head.

“GET IT TOGETHER, SATORU.”

He typed back quickly, forcing himself to breathe through his nose.

“Yeah sure! Sounds good. I’ll bring the rough draft.”

She replied instantly:

“Perfect! Bring snacks too. We need some snacks when we're stressed.”

Gojo let his phone drop onto his chest.

How.

How was she this effortlessly cute and casually ruining his life at the same time?

———————————

END OF Pt.1

tw: #masturbation

|had to make the continuation cuz I can't reach 10000 words.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #imagine #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #oneshot #gojo smut #18 + content #jjk satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu satoru #anime #jjk smut #x reader #nerdjo

58 notes · View notes

sserajeans · 2 years ago

Text

bff premium?

kang haerin x fem! reader

synopsis: after distancing yourself from a friend you've unfortunately fallen for, the rest of the group catches onto her sour mood, and all fingers point to you

genre + others: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, non-idol au, high school setting, friend group is rly just nwjns + yn

notes: i swear yail update will come i just had this in my drafts and felt bad for not posting for a while!!, requested, IM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG I REALLY WANTED TO BE IN TBE MOOD WHEN I WROTE THIS 😭😭😭😭 luckily haerin posted some pics that ive gotten completely insane over.. so!

you and haerin always had something special between the both of you.

you two met in middle school, when your homeroom teacher was assigning seats. she was a quiet kid, and so were you, but one of you had to get over it. so when the class was given a paired activity to "get-to-know each other", you were forced to come out of your shell, and haerin welcomed you (surprisingly) warmly.

it started off as a strictly-seatmate type of friendship, where you two would only interact whenever it was needed. but as you spent more and more time working on assigned activities together, you were beginning to realize that maybe you enjoyed her company more than you thought, and so did she.

eventually, you two began spending time together outside of class; during recess, lunchtime, sometimes after class in the library. it didn't take long until the both of you became really close, a known tandem. you were her closest friend, she was yours, and everyone knew that.

over time, your friends became hers as well, and so whenever everyone was free, your little friend group composed of minji, hanni, danielle, haerin, hyein, and you, would hang out together. at a clubroom, the courtyard, the gymnasium, a cafe, the cafeteria, anywhere.

but no matter how many close friends surrounded you two, it seemed clear to anyone that you were closer to each other than anyone else. the same way hanni was to hyein, and minji was to danielle.

now your feelings for haerin grew a couple years later, and you only admitted them to yourself in your sophomore year of high school. that's about four years or so since you two met, and about a year ago from today.

from the beginning, you had always found haerin pretty. it wasn't hard to admit. she was nice to look at, and the way her cat-like eyes turned into crescent moons whenever she smiled ear to ear... yeah, you knew you were enjoying it a little too much.

and it only worsened the more you got to know each other, because you found out there were so many things to adore.

the way she wouldn't stop talking about frogs, her love for tomatoes, her eyes and the way she blinks slowly when she looks at something she loves (a cat-like habit you picked up when she was watching a recipe video for an avocado dish).

the list could go on and on if no one stopped you, and after talking about it to your mom (who was very supportive of everything, by the way), you came to the conclusion that you liked haerin, in a "more-than-a-friend way".

but you had no idea, not a single clue, on what to do with that realization. what would happen if you told her? if you didn't? would she feel the same? would she be disgusted if she didn't?

crushes and romance was one of the most untouched conversation topics between the two of you, so you had no idea if she was even open to such ideas.

but the one thing you knew for sure, was that she was your best friend, and you were hers. you loved your best friend, and so did she. in a different way, or not, you felt like she still deserved to know. you hated hiding things from her, and history proves it only made things worse whenever you did.

so you decided to confess. great!

and suddenly you see her acting all lovey dovey with danielle.

well, in retrospect, they weren’t exactly being lovey dovey, and you kind of knew that.

danielle was just big on affection, as she was to everyone, and is one of the few people whose pda was complied with (or tolerated) by haerin.

and despite not being much of a pda fan, in that moment, you badly wanted to be in danielle’s place, comfortably smothering your best friend with all the love in the world.

oh, and it didn’t help that people started a couple rumors about them being a couple.

sure, everyone knew you were each other’s number one, each other’s best of best friend, but the way you two showed affection with each other was very different from the way danielle does, to again, everyone, but you didn’t care about that.

the bitter sting in your stomach seeing the two of them made you realize that it was probably a much better idea to just get rid of your feelings (you’re an idiot, you’ve had them for years. they won’t just go away). after all you didn’t want to ruin what you had with two of your closest friends.

and with that goal in mind, so began your plan to avoid kang haerin at all costs!

you’re really stupid.

in the process of avoiding haerin, you indirectly were avoiding the rest of the girls too. you mostly hung out with your other classmates from different subjects like woonhak and eunchae. and whenever you were asked about it by hanni (mostly), you shrugged it off and said it was just “school things you needed help with”.

it was a dumb excuse. everyone knew you were at least top 5 of the class. and what kind of help were you getting if you were going out to places like arcades and karaoke spots anyways?

the girls were bothered, but not as much as haerin was. she was often visibly in a sour mood, ate half of her usual cafeteria servings, and would talk a lot less than she already did.

they were worried for the both of you simultaneously, but hyein and minji put two and two together, which only doubled their worry.

initially, it was just you and haerin's separate well-being they were concerned about, but now that they realized the time frame in which you began distancing yourself matched up with when haerin's mood went down, they were now also worried about what could've happened between you two.

so they took it amongst themselves to at least know what was going on.

"haerin-ah."

"haerin."

"kang."

"kang haerin!"

haerin looked up from her untouched tray of food, her chopsticks poking around slices of beef in sauce.

"hm?"

minji sat across her as the first two to arrive in their usual lunch table.

"i was asking if anything happened between you and y/n or something..."

"oh..."

haerin looked back down and continued playing around with her food before sighing and looking back up, muttering a couple words.

"wish i knew."

"y/n-unnie! is something up between you and haerin-unnie?"

"huh? what?" you were sat in the sound proofed booth of the music room, guitar plugged in an amplifier. you squinted at hyein's figure from outside the room, putting your guitar on its stand and motioning her to come inside.

"can you repeat that? i can't really hear anything from in there..." scratching the back of your neck, you gave hyein a seat from behind the booth's drum sets.

"i was asking!" hyein took a deep breath, you raised your eyebrows signaling her to continue. "if you and haerin-unnie have something going on."

"h-huh? what? what something?"

"no not like that! i meant you know, did you fight or... 'cause she's been so sour lately! she wouldn't even give me her leftover tomatoes... she wasn't even gonna eat them! like at all!"

the expression on your face shifted to what most would identify as worry and concern.

"...she hasn't been eating the tomatoes? she loves those..."

"yeah! and so much more! anyways, minji-unnie and i deduced it was about you, so here i am." hyein gleamed with pride while you chuckled in amusement.

you leaned over to mess with the top of her head and sighed, "i'll talk to her. you don't worry about a thing, okay?"

and you kept your word to the younger girl. how could you not?

you spotted haerin alone in one of the clubrooms, cleaning up some of the materials they used for the day. knocking on the room's door startled her a bit, given by the minor flinch, but she relaxed seeing it was you.

still, you could tell her facial expression was slightly guarded, and it hurt you, but you definitely deserved it.

she turned back around to continue organizing the materials into three separate boxes, not saying a word.

"hyein said you haven't been eating the tomatoes in your lunch." you slowly took your steps towards her and stopped when you were a couole steps away on the other side of the desk she used to arrange the items. "or your lunch at all..."

she paused to look up at you and give you a short glare, before walking to move a box to the teacher's desk in the room. you followed a few steps behind her, arms behind your back as your fingers fiddled with each other.

"you shouldn't... skip your meals, you know..." you muttered, clearly intimidated by haerin’s cold facade. "health... you need to eat..."

seeing as how you still had no reply, you decided it was probably best to just go straight to the point.

"hey... i'm sorry..."

you were used to haerin not saying that much, especially when you got to know her more and she explained that it was simply just too tiring. but you were also always the exception to that.

whenever it was just the two of you, one would be surprised to see haerin as the louder one. talkative, always rambling about something, while you smiled, nodded, and gave comments whenever necessary.

"yangi, please say something"

haerin loved that nickname more than anything. it was pretty foul to pull that card, actually. you came up with it when you two were having a friendly debate over what animal she resembled.

"i don't know where you're getting cat, y/n."

"are you crazy? how are you getting frog!"

"literally everything!"

"no. you're simply incorrect. you're literally a cat in human form!"

"absolutely not!"

"whatever you say, goyangi."

"what did you just call me?"

"go-yang-i. goyangi. go. yangi."

"you're so... annoying."

"okay, yangi."

she let out a frustrated sigh, looking up at you with what felt like her eyes piercing through your soul.

"so you get to disappear on me without a word, but i have to reply when you speak to me for the first time in 8 days?"

yes, she's been counting the days.

but wouldn't you be too if she did the same?

well, you probably would've confronted her a little sooner. but it's not that haerin didn't care enough to do something about it, she just genuinely didn't want to overstep space you might've been needing.

"thats what i thought." she let go of the box, turned her back, and walked back to the desks to grab the 2nd box.

"look... i'm sorry, i really am." you immediately caught up to her with a few steps, eyes pleading with nothing but guilt.

"if you are then can you at least tell me why you were avoiding me?"

she stared at you, observing how your thumbs rubbed over your fingers, or how your breathing got a little heavy, both nervous habits she picked up.

noting how you probably weren't going to say much anytime soon, she let go of the 2nd box to face you.

"you're my best friend, y/n"

that hurt didn't it?

a reminder that that was probably all you were going to be to her.

"do you know how..." haerin took a deep inhale, it was beginning to get shaky. her mind was a mess, thinking of the best words to express the hurt you made her feel over the past few days. but she couldn't.

"nevermind."

knowing the way haerin acted added on to your internal conflict. haerin usually wasn't afraid to speak her mind when it was just the two of you, but now she is. she couldn't. and you knew it was your fault.

but were you really ready to tell her you liked her? now? you wanted to show her you were sorry, but it really wasn't that easy.

if things go wrong, she could continue the game and avoid you forever. and just like that you'd lose your best friend, ruining the group's dynamics as well.

but you figured your brain was just making up excuses for you to not tell her out of fear. what mattered the most now was letting her know you were sorry, and that hurting her was never part of the plan.

"look, i'll tell you, because i really truly am sorry for hurting you," you start off, hands in the air motioning whatever. "but i-... i need you to promise me..."

"what?" her voice was much softer now. still cold, but not sharp enough to make it feel like you were stabbed every time she spoke.

"that you won't be... weirded out, or disgusted, or leave the room. you'll talk about it with me."

"you're the one whos been avoiding the talking y/n, i hope you know that."

you often forget how quick she was with her words. it was like a whip. painful, fast, happens before you even noticed it did. you were just so used to her nicer side. she's never been frustrated with you.

"right..."

you took a deep breath, mentally composing a script of how you felt and how you were going to say it. just like the million times you've practiced to the mirror at home.

"i've been avoiding you 'cause i think i like you. or, well, i know i like you. in a more than a friend way. and i have been for a while, and i was going to tell you because i didn't like hiding things from you, but i saw you with dani one day and i just- i don't know. okay? it's stupid. i know she's like that with everyone, but i didn't like it when she was with you, so i decided that i'd rather just get rid of how i felt to make it easier and to not ruin any of our friendships. so i figured the only way to do that was if i didn't talk to you. clearly that affected us both in a way i didn't want or intend. i'm sorry i ignored you. it was selfish of me to not think about how you could've felt throughout everything."

haerin took a minute just standing there, trying to process the hell of a bomb of information you just dropped on her. her cheeks were gradually growing red the more she realized what you were trying to tell her.

"hey... hello... did you hear what i was saying... or do i have to repeat it... because i'd really rather not..." you waved your palm in front of the girl who seemed to be frozen in place. "but if that's what it takes then i guess tha—"

you stopped talking as haerin slowly approached you, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face on your shoulder. she was careful to do so slowly, giving you a chance to move away if you needed to. she knows you're not into physical touch, and it just wasn't exactly the norm for the two of you.

"i was worried."

"hey, i've been eating fine. it's you tha-"

"no, not that. i was worried you might've overheard dani and i talk about you when i told her i like you, and that you were disgusted by it and didn't want to be... associated with me because of it. and maybe you just didn't know how to tell me so you went with the silent treatment.... i was going nuts, y/n. that's why hyein was talking about skipping lunch and whatever. all i could think about was why."

you could feel the guilt eating you up bit by bit on the inside. it quite literally broke your heart to hear haerin, the girl with not a lot of words, express the effect of what you did. it was like acid, burning up your stomach, your chest, your head. except that acid was guilt.

"oh god... i'm so sorry, yangi... the whole thing was a really selfish move and— and i should've thought about you first. i really am so so sorry..."

you held her closer and softly shifted your body weight from one foot to the other, swaying the two of you softly, somewhat like a cradle calming a baby down to sleep.

"hey... it's okay... i know you didn't mean it. i'm just glad we're fine now."

you two stay in that position for a couple of minutes, feeling each other relax over time as a result of finally resolving the conflict you had caused.

that was until haerin broke the silence.

"so... hate to be the person to ask but..."

"what are we?"

the two of you laughed for a while at how the question was so cliche and cringe yet necessary.

"yes."

"bff premium?"

"y/n!"

"i'm kidding! i'm kidding! but... i say we take things slow? get a little used to this, whatever it is, whatever it could be?"

"yeah, i like that."

the two of you smiled at each other with nothing but warmth and care, before ultimately pulling in for another hug.

"minji-unnie you owe me 2,000 won."

"hyein you're being too loud."

"huh do you hea-?..." haerin pulled away with a surprised face, interrupted by y/n quickly stomping towards the door, slamming it open to reveal minji and hyein falling forward to the floor. a result of relying on the door for support.

"seriously? i expected hyein, but minji-unnie?" you sighed in disappointment, haerin walking over to see what the fuss was all about.

"listen, it's for hanni she placed bets too."

"...lame excuse."

"KANG HAERIN!"

#newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans fanfic #kang haerin x reader #haerin x reader #kang haerin imagines #haerin imagines

848 notes · View notes

deniable-masterpiece · 2 years ago

Note

Wally anon new request 4: Bottom!teacher!reader x Top!Wally where the reader happens to walk in on Wally cranking one out very. loudly in the school's most isolated bathroom & has an inner debate about saying something. They proceed to accidentally make noise, prompting Wally out of the stall (his pants poorly concealing his erection) & trying to turn on his charm before taking the opportunity he has to dominate the reader (& he gets very. sloppy with it) cause he notices how distracted they are from the entire situation.

A.D.I.D.A.S. | alive!wally clark x teacher!male!reader

a/n — yes, the title is a Korn song. sue me (please don't) fun fact: grammarly said this had 150 "premium errors"🤓☝️nerds. if i say it's late at night will that make me exempt from blame for the probable grammatical errors

summary — check the ask! basically the same build-up to the smut

warnings — smut (sooo 18+), teacher/student pairing, facefucking (Wally receiving), rimming (Wally receiving), anal sex

words — 4.7k

~~~

Only people who had nothing better to do skipped class, so that’s why Wally skipped lunch instead. At a time when he would be scarfing down the scarce protein found on the high school lunch menu and rushing to finish whatever homework he forgot to do the night before, he chose to negate all of his troubles for something more enticing. Smudges of graphite were smeared on the back of his left hand from writing an essay for your class all night and left his hand feeling sore, his head feeling too occupied to conjure up a fantasy before hauling into overdrive to stage each production required for his dreams. The underside of his hand complimented the rest as he stroked his dick, the bristling bundle of his dark pubes sprawling out over the undone flaps of his jeans pressed against his hand every time he reached the base and traveled back. It was done with the same fiery passion he had for you when you paired him with someone he openly disliked in class for a group project—for the times when you wouldn’t give him an extension because he had football or family matters. For the times when he thought that you were too stuck up and needed a hefty dose of dick to get the stick out of your ass. So now he was relieving himself in the men’s bathroom, it only seemed like a fair trade. If you got to fill his nights with readings, assignments, and studying for the next pop quiz, he got to let you take up the space in his head. He got to dampen the wad of toilet paper in his hand with the results of his endless thoughts about you.

The bathroom was expectantly dingy, painted in yellow from the incandescent bulbs buzzing out waves of it. Wally’s vibe proved to be combatant to the do-what-you-need-to-and-leave-as-fast-as-you-can mentality that this restroom evoked. It was the last one on the list for Split River’s renovations, and therefore the place that people went to the least. Cascades of shadows form a sloped line against the wall of the stall like the setting sun unevenly tilting through a set of blinds, the wall climbing higher than the black hair on Wally’s head as he leaned back against it.

He could still smell the pencil shavings on his hand, the woody scent hiding under his fingernails as he brought a hand up to his mouth, stifling a moan from releasing. He needed to tear his gaze away from his dick, his hand acting as a surrogate for either of your holes. Wally had worked himself up to the point that picturing your lecturing lips stretched wide around his dick or your hole taking all of his abuse. He became uncontrollable, ready to finish this as fast as possible. Like he was running a race on foot, only a few more steps until he was past the white and blue finish line. His feet shifted and his sneakers squeaked on the glossy finish of the floor. Another moan escaped his lips, going far beyond the white cement bricks of the bathroom and out into the hall, where you were passing by.

Hall sweeps were a common thing at Split River, and you were stuck with the west end of the building. It was already on the opposite side of the school from where your designated classroom was. You barely knew this side of the school, so you had no clue who’s classroom was supposed to be occupied and who’s wasn’t. Some people liked to duck into classes to hide from teachers, making noise that you had to assume was acceptable and just part of some class you weren’t familiar with. Thankfully, it seemed that everyone in the hall was at lunch, none of the classes offered were in session for the time being. There was no one to report on the walkie-talkie attached to your hip. At least you got to learn of bathroom locations, also known as the main hub for in-school skipping. The faculty bathroom was a few doors down and on the opposite side of the hall from the student bathrooms, the men and women’s entrances being separated by a thick brick wall but still in proximity to each other. But as you walked by them, taking your mental notes of where everything was in this corridor and which teachers resided in it, you heard a guttural moan. It was quick and quiet like a kid saying a swear word before cutting themselves off in fear of being heard, but you heard it. The moan had a tremble to it, a shakiness that sounded like desperation. You knew it was deep enough to come from the men’s bathroom, but you really didn’t want to confront a student for doing something of the sort. But it would be more awkward to let them finish and walk out, only to reveal yourself as having known about it for however long it would take them to walk out.

You had to go in, and you kept your steps light. Maybe you were wrong—you wanted to be wrong. Your eyes flew to the sinks on the left, then the urinals on the right. Nothing, no one was here and maybe you had just heard something. But then, you looked at the two stalls in the back with a sliver of space on the one side to swing open both doors and enter them. It was the space underneath showing their white and orange Nike’s that gave them away, making it clear that they had no intention of using the toilet for its intended purpose. They were backed away to the wall of the stall, and you knew that you had to beckon them out. You held your breath, thinking about what to say and if you even wanted to say anything. Would it just be better to turn around and leave? They weren’t hurting anyone but…

Before the debate could come to a conclusion in your head, your walkie-talkie rung out, filling the bathroom with an echo of the grainy voice of another teacher. This bathroom must have been far off from the rest of the school, now that you thought about it. The kid in the stall probably wasn’t even skipping lunch, he was probably skipping a class on the other side of the school. Multiple periods for lunch overlayed with other classes to fit the entire student body into one cafeteria, you had to remind yourself, so it wasn’t a far cry from being reasonable.

Something else that was expected was the teen in the stall finally accepting that he was caught hopefully clean-handed. You could hear fabric shifting and a soft plink ring out from something being thrown in the toilet. He flushed it and then there was the sound of a zipper being pulled back into itself. The lock on the stall was the next noise, the door swinging open after a beat. Out came Wally, a student in one of your later classes of the day after every lunch period is said and done. You considered him to be a decent student, most of his papers and in-class work earning him low B’s and high C’s. Maybe you were a harsh grader, but you really didn’t have a grasp on it yet due to this being your first year of teaching. Regardless, you didn’t expect him to be the one to walk out. You only had as much knowledge of him as he was willing to give you through fifty-four-minute classes, five days a week, for the past fifty-or-so days, but he would never do something like this. He would never be stupid enough to walk out with his boner so prominently forming a line in his jeans, either. But he kept walking towards you without letting it hinder his movement, the same swagger present in his step that he had walking into your class.

“Mr. Clark,” you sighed, taking the responsibility as it was your job to confront him. You tried to stay combobulated as he went for the sink, turning to the side to show the real size of his tent that the front couldn’t show. Crossing your arms, the pressure put on your chest exhumed the words stuck in your throat, “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

He didn’t look like he was worried about being caught, in fact, he was ready to lie his ass off. The faucet handle squeaked when he turned it off with one of his wet hands. He didn’t bother going for the paper towel dispenser less than a step away, instead, he turned to you and made the intentional choice to rub his palms over his denim to dry them. It was only for a moment, but he made sure to let his hands ghost his crotch in their proximity.

“I was just finishing up,” he decided to say, a slight shudder slipping out at the obvious satisfaction he got from his hand going over his covered shaft. Keeping it simple was the easiest way to skate by you, if you were willing to let him. Wally went to go around you, but your hand found his chest and stopped him in his tracks. His Nike’s scuffed the floor and let out a high-pitched squeak when he stopped, the dissonant symphony continuing as you used a little force to guide him back into the middle of the bathroom. He may have been on the football team, but he was in no position to fight you, not when you were closer than you had ever been to him.

“Finishing up what? Come on, be honest and it’ll be easier for you,” you had to quote some late-night cop show for the coercive words you angled at him. You never had to do something like this—maybe you should have taken him in silence to the office. But even the quiet drawls of each breath reminded you of his visible frustration during the tests he took in your class, the consequences of his emotion you wanted to be the victim of. He had the right tools to jackhammer away at your stone-cold treatment of him, but that was mostly to act professional. You could never make it to the office.

“I think you know what it is. I don’t have to tell you.” He laughed. He leaned in closer, pushing against your hand that still hadn’t left his chest. The fabric of his plain white t-shirt underneath his staple letterman was thin and flimsy and let you feel the light definition of muscle underneath. He wasn’t a beast but he was still young, still had time to bulk up. At this moment, though, it was everything you needed it to be, “What are you gonna write me up for, Teach?”

You looked into his soft eyes, “Nothing. Just… get back to class.”

“No way, you’re staying to learn with me,” he was the one to pull away from you even if he was leaning into this absurd turn of the conversation, doing a quick turn on his heel in disbelief and gratification. He refused to leave even though you stepped aside to let him pass. “I’ll give you something to write me up for and help out my favorite teacher. Get on your knees.”

“Mr. Clark,” you protested. Speaking his name so pure and so isolated would probably make you forget about your position and that he was your student. You could get fired for this, but Wally continued regardless. It’s not like this would make him look bad. If either of you were caught like this—which was slim to none given how out of the way this bathroom was, but the mere sliver of a chance was enough to make you believe it was more than likely to happen—would boost his social credit and be spun into a sob story for him, making you look like the monster in this situation. You had power, the power to stop this and send him walking to the office and having him return to class with a lifetime’s worth of detention, but you could be Wally’s little mistake for the next twenty minutes.

“No talking while class is in session. Don’t you usually say that? It sounds so fucking stupid,” he laughed again. Wally pushed the sides of his letterman jacket behind him to open the gate for easy access to his jeans. The dark jeans had a golden button that he fooled with for a second before undoing it, and then the matching brass zipper followed in his haste. His hands were a little shaky as he did it like he needed release from working himself up beforehand. He parted the flaps of his jeans to show off a pair of solid white tights encasing his massive erection. It filled the front of his briefs to the point that it looked like it would flop out any second, and he had a dark shrub of curly pubes peeking over the waistband. There was precum leaking from the tip that caused the white fabric to become see-through and cling to the tip of his dick. It confirmed your long-forgotten suspicion that he was in the stall, masturbating. “I don’t listen to what you have to say because I want that mouth to be used for something else…”

If you hadn’t fallen to your knees by this point, the sight alone would have made you too weak to stand. You were eye-level with the tent he formed and it protruded much more than when it was hidden in the dark behind his jeans. His relaxed and casual clothing contrasted the more formal ones you had to wear, the cotton dress pants doing little against the hard linoleum. You could feel bruises already setting into your knees before the fun had even started, wondering if the purple would leak through the fabric of your pants like his precum.

“For our first lesson—we’ll be going over how to handle a big piece of meat.” His thumbs hooked into the elastic of his underwear, stretching out as he half-circled around his thighs to push down his underwear. Somehow, his dick looked bigger now that its shape wasn’t hidden by his tent. His girth matched his length to create something of a beast, something they should confiscate from him for being too dangerous. No wonder he struggled to hide it when he came out of the stall, there was no possible way to not show it when he was fully hard.

His steps toward you were a lot smoother, and a lot more coordinated now that the stiffness in his pants was finally free. It swayed from side to side with each step, drawing your attention like a teacher rounding up the class. Your entire school of thought was out the window at the hypnotic sight, all streams of consciousness flowing towards the idea of him—it was all you could think about. When he neared you, the length of his dick was the same as the distance between you. He took it into his hand, pointing it up towards the ceiling and moving closer before letting it fall down on your face and bob around.

“I know you’re new to this whole thing.” He smacked his dick over your face by holding the base. He pulled his shaft up and carelessly let it fall against your face. “But you need to learn what runs things around here, Teach.”

It was rare that Wally found himself at a loss for words, always having a remark that needed to be said—most likely in your class—but here, he had nothing to say when his dick was on the tip of your lips. The heat was pouring in and melded with your equally warm mouth, adding a wetness that could have made Wally cum then and there. His cheeks filled with air and he expelled it with disbelief. He didn’t expect your mouth to feel so good, or for you to be so good at taking him. Never would he have guessed that a teacher could be such a slut.

He guided you slowly down his length, not to let you learn its curves and ridges and to let your mouth get used to it, no, he had to take it slow or else he would burst. He had spent a good ten minutes tugging on his dick without lotion, just the dry touch of his hand and a little spit that took him a long way and now he wanted to enjoy the massive step-up from his hand and vivid imagination to the very real feelings and sight of you sucking his dick.

“Fuck, yeah,” he moaned and bit his lip, watching you finally bury your nose in his pubes. Looking away when you looked up at him with eyes that eagerly waited for his command, his hand slid into your hair to grab a fistful of it. He kept you at the base of his dick, softly grinding himself against your face. He needed to bury himself deeper but he was as deep as he could go.

There was a still moment where his shaky breaths matched your quick ones ruminating over his crotch, warmth that matched what he radiated out. He reeled himself back, you could hear the imaginary tick, tick, tick in your head as every inch escaped your mouth before sliding back in faster than the first time he did it. The way his hips slowly backed away from you felt like the fleeting hope when you reached the top of a roller coaster with a steep drop, and it was plunging right into the pit forming in your stomach. He did it until a rhythm of hip swings and moans swelled. The cherry on top was the way your mouth started to fill with spit and spill out as his cock forcefully brought it out with it, only to slam some of it back in and leave the rest spilling over your chin and the sides of your mouth. You couldn’t help but get hard at the treatment, at the way he stretched out your mouth alone.

Wally heard your belt’s buckle clink against itself as you fiddled with it, being thrashed around a little too much by his fast thrusts to properly undo your belt. He stopped you just as you pulled the end of the strap out, the leather stiff and still wrapped around your waist even without it looping through the hole in the belt to tuck itself away in.

“Don’t touch yourself, dude.” He said plainly, there wasn’t a hint of teasing behind it. It was a command. His hand lightly tapped the side of your face as a reminder. It wasn’t a full-on slap, but it felt like the precursor to someone readying their aim before really committing to it—a warning. You felt just like him, your dick straining against the looser fabric of your pants. It must have been painful to be so worked up and have to tuck it away in such an awkward position, and now he was returning the favor by not letting you find relief.

At a certain point, when your jaw started to ache and you could tell that your lips were fed up with the abuse, he pulled himself out of your mouth with a snicker and an “Oh, fuck.” He didn’t do it for you, though, he did it because one more slip into your throat and he would have coated your throat in cum like a parent trying to force cough medicine down. He knew you would’ve sputtered and probably sent him to the office regardless of this extracurricular going so well, so he had to be careful even if he wanted to defile you. Maybe if you looked more like a mess than you already do, that option would be out of the window. Your hair was ruffled by his hands raking through it and there were stains on the sides of your face—what exactly was spit caught in the crossfire of Wally’s throatfucking and what were tears at the occasional gag was unknown.

“Now, for the next lesson.” He continued to assume power over you, letting his sloppy cock hit you in the same way as before. It left a line of your own spit across your face as if he was obsessed with waving it in front of you. He stopped fulfilling his addiction to making you a mess quickly when he turned around while keeping you in the same position, introducing you to his ass that you would also have to get acquainted with.

His jacket covered some of his butt, but he pulled it up with one hand so you could see the full thing. The thick trim at the bottom was the school colors, rounding off the curve from his ass to the small of his back and reminding you that this was an ass you would still have to see in the halls, one that you couldn’t look away from. You’d have to pay more attention at the football games, because Wally was sure to drag you to them from now on, and this was more of a sight than his front side had been. He was rather modest in size and mostly hairless around the back, a light tracing of hair revealing itself when you used your hands to part his cheeks. They filled out your hands, his ass being firm yet squishy enough to almost seep through the space between your fingers. There was more than enough to play with, but you were interested in his untouched hole.

Just like yours, Wally never had anything inserted into his hole. That is, from what you could tell. You were too busy rimming him to ask and he was too busy enjoying the feeling to give you a proper answer that wasn’t a hastily blurted-out profanity or half-slurred plea to keep going. Your jaw couldn’t seem to get a break from his torment, having to subtly move every time your tongue extended to lick around his hole. The sounds of him welling up spit in his mouth to make his dick extra slick could be heard from the other side, though you couldn’t see it happening.

You noticed that one specific movement—particularly where you flicked your tongue up, stretching Wally’s hole and continuing to lick all the way up to the divot where his tailbone was—sent shivers down his spine. His head tilted back and his raven black hair bunched up at the collar of his jacket from above. You tried a few other tactics like licking in the opposite direction until you reached his balls, using his taint as a bridge between his hole and sack to travel down with your tongue, and laying your tongue flat over his hole to stimulate the ring of nerves in one go.

When Wally deemed his dick to be lubed up to his liking—and totally not because he could have cum from your amazing work—he pulled you away from his ass.

“Come on, I know you’re not done after that,” Wally sneered, turning around to see you, a bit breathless with sweat forming on your forehead. Your formal clothes were really doing you no favors with how your dick was trapped and you had to keep all this heat in without taking anything off. “Time for lesson number three, buddy: don’t fucking interrupt the teacher.”

He hooked an arm under your elbow and brought you to your feet. The sudden rush was enough to make your head spin, or maybe it was the way he turned you towards the sink and was quick to lift you up onto its surface. He positioned you between the two sinks, your thighs making contact with their white porcelain as the space was barely enough for you to fit without some overlap. Finally, he let you have some freedom of movement down there. He was the one to undo your belt and pull down your pants and underwear while doing all the work for you. He sat you up against the sink, the counter having more than enough room to let you sit—and lean back—on it so that your back was touching the mirror.

Your ass was scooted forward, allowing him to do all the lining up that was required to easily slide himself in. Given that it was your first time, the pain was very real, and the solid countertop and mirror made your writhing when his tip pierced your ass feel restrictive. He treated it the same as your mouth, slowly sinking in like he was inching himself into a pool with frigid water, the shock making him lose all composure in the best ways possible. And when he was buried as deep as he could be, he stood there, one hand on your hip and the other against the mirror. His face was impossibly close to yours, his soft eyes darkening in the shadow of the yellow light above. It cast a dark shadow to make what would usually be unassuming eyes look dark with intention.

But then, his lips pressed to your puffy ones. They stung at the contact but the pain detracted from his gradual movements. While it started slow, it quickly became a rough fucking that rocked you back into the mirror. Wally could only take so much build-up before he could no longer hold himself back. There was another motivation too—your teaching style. Some of his thrusts were intentionally rough, and most of his actions had derived from when you paired him up with someone he found annoying and you refused to let him swap partners. For all the homework he had to begrudgingly sit down and finish instead of jerking off or doing anything he actually liked. This was his own lesson for you, and you had to sit back and take it.

This is when you were at your most vocal. He managed to stretch you out just like the syllables coming from your mouth, half-formed and incoherent and held longer than they needed to be. But they strung themselves together on the thin lines of ecstasy. He was so painful in the way that he fucked you against the mirror like you were trapped between a rock and a hard corner. Short strands of his hair separated from the rest as he bowed his head, looking at his work from above and finding pleasure in how he jackhammered into you. It was enough for you to finally shoot your load and hands-free at that. It primarily shot up at your stomach, missing your formal top by a minuscule gap.

Wally didn’t last long after seeing you lose your composure and you found it to be adorable. He seemed like he was going to keep going—he had fended himself off long enough from cumming, but he pulled out and side-stepped over to one of the sinks on your side. You watched his hand just barely reach his dick in time to aim it into the sink and spray his load out in strands all over the shiny white surface. He kept pumping, drops of white dribbling over his dick and into his hand with each tug.

The bell rang and that let Wally know that his lunch period was finally at an end. Forty minutes had never gone by so fast for him. He fixed himself back up and left you weak on the counter, presumably to clean up his mess that was left in the sink.

“Your homework is to clean that up for me. And make sure you look good for later today.” Wally smirked and patted your thigh, “See ya in class, Teach.”

His squeaky shoes stopped once he reached the hall and you heard the pitter of his steps fade away. And you were left in the bathroom with a voice fighting through the grain on your walkie, announcing that the lunch period had ended and you were needed to supervise the next group of students having their meals. At least you were more than satisfied with the five-course meal you just got handed and your hall-sweeping duties were over.

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