Two Bad Bitches (At The Same Damn Time)

by cosmicvoids

Summary:

Trouble, that's what they are.

And Iori Utahime, 24, senior in Tokyo Tech University, does everything she can to distance herself from them. It's already something having their schedule overlap from time to time, and the kind of boys they are—it was always in their mother tongue why these boys scream ‘trouble’ so stay the hell away from them.

Utahime makes sure distance becomes something a favourite of hers. To never meet them when she walks back to her classes, skipping lunches or dine out somewhere else so no accidents on meeting will happen.

What's the trouble, you may ask?

They come in a pair. Boys. Twins. Two of them were a total contrast but both are identical enough that will make you confused who is who, which is which—Gojo and Satoru.

Notes:

It took years of me finally figure out something for this Nerd Satoru x Utahime x Frat Gojo. I wish it was as good (and filthy).

Ps; title from Future - Same Damn Time

Trouble, that's what they are.

 

And Iori Utahime, 24, senior in Tokyo Tech University, does everything  she can to distance herself from them. It's already something having their schedule overlap from time to time, and the kind of boys they are—it was always in their mother tongue why these boys scream ‘trouble’ so stay the hell away from them.

 

Utahime makes sure distance becomes something a favourite of hers. To never meet them when she walks back to her classes, skipping lunches or dine out somewhere else so no accidents on meeting will happen.

 

What's the trouble, you may ask?

 

They come in a pair. Boys. Twins. Two of them were a total contrast but both are identical enough that will make you confused who is who, which is which—Gojo and Satoru.

 

Gojo was a junior of hers. Cocky. Classic university's basketball captain. Girls gawking over his height. Giggles when he flirts with them. A signature reputation of a playboy that rumors always fly around about him. He's one of the boys Utahime met for the very first time in one of his frat boys parties. Tight black shirt. Loose gray sweatpants and a backward baseball cap. When Utahime met him for the very first time, tipsy from a few sips of the drink, he almost made her want to lose her motto and maybe, fall on his bed and to regret it all the day after.

 

Almost. Not to say that Gojo didn't flirt. He thrives off seeing girls blushing from his words, and at the time, Iori Utahime makes sure to not spare this man another second if she doesn't want to make a mistake.

 

His twin is named Satoru. Cute one. Sporting the same white hair as his identical brother, wears a sweater and slacks, the only difference is he doesn't have the playboy energy on him. The glasses on his nose always make girls whisper in the library, what it's like to liplock with him then see him taking those glasses off just to kiss someone else deeper. Utahime wouldn't lie and say she had never thought the same. 

 

In comparison to Gojo, Satoru listens when Utahime requests him to call her ‘senpai.’

 

He was a danger to her sanity too, because the flirting, even when he was never vocal like his brother, his eyes gave you all the thoughts and glimpse running in his mind. Utahime had the privilege to tutor him once. Polish sweater, folded just on his arms to show her the veins and muscles protruding. If he wanted something, he wasn't that shy from eye contact and tracing her, like he did then. Under his reading glasses, even when she's fully dressed, she feels naked. Strip down to her the barest of her skin.

 

Utahime promises to never let herself be in the same space as Gojo and Satoru again.

 

Their need to have her was obvious and Utahime makes sure that'll be the last time she ever tutor, or be in the same space as Gojo and Satoru.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The pen in her finger clicks a steady rhythm over the top of her book and table. Click. Clack; mirroring the small sound from the clock, hanging on top of the board. Utahime gaze falls from the entrance class door, then back to the professor table that is now empty.

 

It's almost 9 am, and Utahime's next class starts in an hour. Principal Gakuganji is still nowhere in sight. It was off-putting, because if anything the old man is, he is very peculiar on his schedule and always makes sure the round of students in his class groan with his never ending assignment. Today seems to be not the day where his frequent habit appears.

 

Utahime sighs, her eyes travel around the place, fallen to each one of the students mending their business. There's some scrolling through their phones, a girl turning her body sideways as she talks animatedly to her group of friends; chorus of ‘ah,’ and ‘ohs’, from her friends. There's also one where a boy had his cheek slump over the table, swept away from a dreamland where no studies and classes hold any importance. 

 

The pen is still clicking steady between her fingers. Pages of her book drift softly under the morning winds, flowing between the cracks of the half open windows by her side. Words of her fonts and notes from the last week's classes flashes under the brown of her eyes. Utahime attention was everywhere but there at the same time.

 

“Is this seat taken?”

 

The familiar voice makes Utahime shoulders tense. Badly she wanted to believe, it wasn't who she had in mind. But if it's anything she knows, it is that fate doesn't favour her that much.

 

When the pen no longer meets the top of her book, Utahime lifts her gaze to look on her right side, where the question had come from.

 

Satoru blue eyes washes over her like a warm ocean under the Okinawa sun. It makes your skin warm, but the brief coldness each time the waves meet your skin sends your body reeling. That's what Utahime feels now after avoiding Satoru for so long and seeing him from a fate she can't run from. 

 

Curse her heart to beat this fast—like it remembered his hand before her mind couldn't stop it.  Curse Satoru for looking undoubtedly more attractive since the last time she saw him. Perfectly combed hair with strands kisses his forehead, reading glasses, a beige polo sweater with a green cardigan. The gleaming watch around his wrist gives Utahime little glimpse of his skin under.

 

Satoru clears his throat, catching Utahime's attention. 

 

“It's unoccupied.” She says. “Why are you here?”

 

Her question is valid. There's no reason for Satoru, nor Gojo to attend the same class as Utahime did. She's their senior; older by three years from them. Undoubtedly these two boys were geniuses, too clever for their own good. But that still doesn't explain the reason why Utahime needed to have their presence in her space—the only space she can breathe properly without feeling her heart beat fast like she's getting chased by a masked man.

 

Men.

 

For an unknown reason Satoru flushes. Utahime wasn't sure it was from Utahime eyeing his whole attire before, or her question. She wanted it to be the latter. 

 

Satoru slides over to the right side, his eyes avoiding her as he arranges his MacBook and books. “Clashes of class, Senpai. Principal Gakuganji had an emergency so he won't be attending the class for at least 2 days.” His fingers work miraculously; arranging the pen, switching on the laptop. Each and every movement pulls Utahime attention back on those callous fingers, distracting her from his explanation. “So Principal Gakuganji asked our class to join yours so one of the TAs will give us the work and assignments to do.” Cerulean blue washes over Utahime's face—he clearly caught her eyeing his fingers. Satoru swallows, eyes fall over the plump of her lips. “Are you okay, Senpai?”

 

“Other than eye-fucking you the whole time, Satoru. I think she's doing completely well.”

 

The undoubtedly amused comes from none other than the other twin, Gojo. Cocky grin is what Utahime gaze meets. Backward baseball cap, jeans and leather jackets on top of his dark compressed shirt. 

 

“Gonna eye-fuck me too, Uta?.” Words roll off his lips and carry so much unashamed and embarrassed—it makes Utahime furious. Not just to him, but to herself too. He said it like he already knew the answer—like she had done worse before.

 

“I wasn't eye-fucking him.” Utahime sterns. Gojo simply chuckles, sliding to the left side of her making Utahime the only girl in the middle of the troubling twins.

 

“Sure.” Gojo drags his words on purpose. “You definitely did not eyeing how Satoru's fingers work on you,” his azure-blue glint in control and teasing, “definitely did not imagine how my body would look shirtless under you.”

 

No matter if she thinks about it or not, Gojo simply gives her no chance to not think about his words. Satoru's fingers that Utahime admired just now turns into something that makes her stomach flutter. And adding how his compression shirt was what Utahime gaze fell to just now, it makes her flushes deepen from the imagination that Gojo planted in her head.

 

“Keep your imagination in your head, Gojo.” Utahime mutters between gritted teeth.

 

Keep it out of my head too, her mind circles the words.

 

“Oh, baby. If you knew what I had in my imagination, you would turn red all over.” The deep words of Gojo were loud enough for the three of them to hear. It makes heat prickling all over her skin, heart beating faster than before, and adding on, Utahime feels her throat parched.

 

Before Utahime could wander more, the TA greets the class, pulling all the attention. Satoru's gaze was on the side of her face mere seconds ago when Gojo crude words spilled. It was as if Satoru wanted to read the emotion on Utahime’s face, as if he wanted to know if what his brother was talking about holds a candle in her walls of truth. 

 

When Utahime turns to look at him now, his eyes are no longer on her. Serious over the words of apologies from the TA. But all and all, his fingers never stop tapping the table. As if he knows that Utahime will steal glances at them.

 

And curse her again, for fallen to the trap of the twin arranged just for her.

 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The class goes on and on. Little explanation over things that Principal Gakuganji had said before. Utahime wouldn't blame the TA for repeating it, after all, it'll be her fault if the class fails on certain topics.

 

“And so Gakuganji-san left me with the assignment that he expected the class to turn over 2 weeks from now.” The TA; Miss. Kim said. A Korean lady who couldn't be older than Utahime by a couple of years. “It is pretty thick of a request and I take it that the students who had attended his class knew this.”

 

A choruses if sighs and groans catching Miss. Kim with a small chuckle. Her fingers between the files as her concentration stayed on them.

 

“One day, I'm going to make it a personal mission to shove those papers up that old man’ ass.” Gojo grunted, leaning back against his chair with his arms crossed.

 

Now the leather jacket no longer keeps his body in a temporary shadow. The tight t-shirt sculpture ever bits of his muscles, making him appear much bigger than he already is. Utahime is already annoyed with the fact that Gojo's little seed does nothing but grow into a little parasite in her brain.

 

“All he wanted for his students to succeed.” Utahime comments without paying him a glance. She hates how each time she looks at Gojo, he'll give her a smirk or a look that promises her things that make her heart race. “Just be attentive.”

 

Gojo huffs. “Little Utahime is a teacher's pet?”

 

“Or senpai is  just a good girl.” Satoru words make her cheeks flushed, down to the bare of her off-shoulder top. “Her academic records are good.”

 

From her peripheral vision, Utahime notices Gojo lean forward, arms crossed on top of his table. “Little Utahime loves praise? I can do that.”

 

“Shut up.” 

 

“Can't do that.” Gojo shrugs.

 

“So I'll be putting the rest of you in a group of two,” Miss. Kim continues. “Though there's an odd number so while the rest are 2, one will be a group of three.”

 

Utahime chooses to not pay Gojo nor Satoru any mind. They have done enough damage; which was to mess with her head and sanity. Now her body doesn't know what is a normalcy, her mind keeps wandering to an uncharted territory, the one she promises to never cross.

 

 So just for now for a little temporary moment while her mind is still sane, Utahime chooses to have all her attention on the TA. Grouping each student. She saw a couple of them exchange high-five which Utahime guesses they're friends. Some had a little awkward phase with one another. Her heart races, wishing the odd group wasn't who she thought it would be.

 

“And last but not least, Gojo, Utahime and Satoru are an odd group of three.” Miss. Kim announced, leaving the pristine white paper back on top of the cream coloured file. “Utahime-san, Gakuganji-san had mentioned about your academic records and it's very impressive,” She grins, totally fly away from her head how stunned Utahime actually is now. “And Gojo and Satoru are geniuses though they're younger. I'm wishing the best out of you three.”

 

“Thank you Miss. Kim.” Utahime chooses to say instead. She couldn't deny it, she couldn't oppose it no matter how much she wanted it. It'll be tainting her name, the reputation she had built from never denying any requests. “I'll make sure to not disappoint.”

 

Miss. Kim smiles.

 

Gojo chuckles while Satoru hums. 

 

Utahime doesn't know what's worse; that fate decides to put them three together again, or the bits of relief she felt at being with them again.

 

The night that she buries at the end of her mind still decides to claw occasionally, as if her mind and body refuses to let go of the sense of pleasure.

 

At the time, Utahime had survived it once by walking away the next day without looking back at them. 

 

Now she wasn't so sure if she could do it for the second time; not with a responsibility tying them all together.

“Gojo-kun.” An unfamiliar feminine voice greets the boy beside her in perfect seduction and sultry. As if the girl wanted to flirt inside of a class. Utahime spared the girl a single glance before she had her attention back on her laptop.

 

Said Gojo raised a single brow, body leaning back, legs outstretched. “I believe I  go by that, yes?”

 

The girl giggles, lacing her fingers at her front. “I was discussing with my friend if you wanted to join our group instead? We can be the odd one, I don't think I'd mind.”

 

Utahime's heart falls to her stomach. She feels different. She doesn't know how to regard her feelings. Was it negative or positive? But what Utahime knows is that she dislikes this.

 

Gojo chuckles; that heavy husky-like tone of his, that makes girls swoon. “That's a tempting offer, but I'm afraid I have to say no.” The girl's smile fell. “I have been wanting to partner with this class's genius for so long. Fate has finally played its card, who am I to say no.”

 

“Oh.” The girl smiles awkwardly—Utahime's heart picks up. “Uhm, what about you, Satoru-kun?”

 

Utahime feels Satoru's fingers by the end of her dark curls. Twisting the strand with his pointed fingers; an act so familiar, too practiced, because her body memorized how it feels to all five of his fingers through her scalp. His thumb and forefinger playfully pulls the soft strands making Utahime breath stutter. 

 

“No, but thank you. I'd like Utahime-senpai for me.” His words were soft, though the underlying possessiveness bleed off his tongue.

 

The girl didn't say anything else. Utahime can't even see the person from her peripheral vision anymore. She didn't try to remove Satoru's fingers from his hair, but she felt the familiar pull no longer hold her strands. Traitorously, her body wants to feel it again.

 

“A group of three,” Gojo said, heavy in her ears. “Just what I had in mind.”

 

Utahime didn't stay for another second. Her body burns hot. Internally her blood was a mess. She slips outside of the class without sparring the boys a glance.

 

Because she knew if she looked back, she faces with nothing but looks of all to pleased and desires that the twins still burn in flames just for her.

 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

 

The weather outside was stormy. Headlines of warning how Tokyo will wrap with even more storms for these couple of days. Utahime had her attention pins on the screen. Laying on her chest over the couch with her cheeks on top of them. At times like these, Utahime appreciates that it's a skyscraper apartment she's staying in. The 25th floor from the 30th building.

 

Through her attention on the television, Utahime couldn't help but keep drifting on the  ground which was between Gojo and Satoru. A perfect symbol of destruction. One basks in other shyness and embarrassment before swallowing them whole, while the other masters a picture perfect gentleman before savouring each and one fall at the sharp of his gaze, putty to his palm.

 

Just thinking about them was enough to make Utahime's mind and heart shake like the storm outside. Her heart has been unsteady still, her brain couldn't forget the words of ‘good girl’ from Satoru, how Gojo teases her about liking getting ‘praises.’

 

She never had someone compliment her like Satoru did. Never had someone pointed something out about her interest like Gojo did—not until the mistake of a night where she's between the sheets with them.

 

She shouldn't even react to their words—they need to get scolded by her instead!

 

But why, oh why, does her heart sing an unfamiliar melody with a tempo of lust? Why does she flushes under Satoru's piercing gaze, heats under Gojo's pointed words, and reacts so far from negative that even hours after the class, her mind and body pin on the seating between them two?

 

Utahime pulls her lower lips between her teeth; an act that she found herself in each time her mind brings her to them. The dark gray blanket falls to the carpet floor as Utahime gets on her feet. 

 

She needs a distraction. Her eyes gaze around, falling to the sight of her half filled basket of unwashed clothes. That's right. Her washing machine broke down and the service still didn't come to repair like they promised her they would.

 

“Idiot.” Utahime mutters. She walks to the basket, not before tying her hair with her claw clips. Thankfully the apartment was on the luxury side; Thankfully they had a private washing machine for the owners of the complex.

 

Her gaze drifted towards the clock—9:15 p.m. It won't be that many people on a late Tuesday, right?

 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The wind outside was cold, knocking over the glass door of the receptionist area. The dimmed light of the space gives an illusion of tiredness. With an even softer melody of old Frank Sinatra playing in the background sways Utahime's mind into a softness that she never knew she needed.

 

Kitten heels clicking over the marble ground, Utahime offers a small nod to the old security guard before she walks towards another private space with capital letters in black font—LAUNDRY CENTER— with smaller words appear below— reserved for the owner of Tokyo Skyline Apt. 

 

The laundry inside was empty from any other occupants. Winds are still knocking over the building not too far away from her. It's home here for two things—to clean her clothes and clear her mind of the troublesome twins. Nothing else matters now other than her future planning. In fact, Utahime already had a plan on what to do for tonight.

 

As her Wednesday class started a bit later than usual, Utahime couldn't help but feel enthusiastic to finally start the book that had just arrived this early morning. A cute boy-next-door romance. Childhood friends with a boy who has always liked her.

 

Those cute stories, better than the movies can ever have. Can reality even touch what's words on paper make her feel?

 

“I'm sorry on behalf of Gojo if he comes out as crude.”

 

Utahime screams; throwing one of her bras at whoever the voice was.  The hot pink Victoria Secret landed on Satoru's chest.

 

Her cheeks burn red when her gaze interlocks with Satoru. His hair was messier now, a guess of hers, it's from his fingers cards through them. A loose long sleeve with matching gray sweatpants. Through it all, the glasses stay on.

 

“I never knew you liked me with glasses that bad, Senpai.”

 

The memories resurface in her mind—Utahime shook her head. 

 

“You-” Utahime took the bra when Satoru offered it back to her. “You need to stop creeping on people like that, Satoru. I could get a heart attack and die.”

 

“A cardiac arrest, you mean.” Satoru words are curated perfectly as he stands by her side. “Deeply apologize, senpai. I didn't mean to make you yell or surprise." Utahime glances from her peripheral vision, noticing Satoru blues stay on the side of her face. “Certainly not the latter, senpai.”

 

Now her cheeks flushes; now, it's for a different reason. Her plan now goes haywire; the twins, or one of them somehow sense that Utahime wanted to erase them from her memory, appear out of thin air.

 

“That's a beautiful colour, senpai.” Utahime eyes widen, noticing the blues of his meet her hot pink lingerie. 

 

Utahime throws them inside the machine before she closes the lid rather forcefully. “I would appreciate and be thankful if we both acted that I didn't just throw my bra on your face, Satoru.”

 

“Would you?” He asks, catching her in confusion. 

 

“What?” She asks.

 

“Would you appreciate it if I listened as you asked too, Senpai?”

 

It's like a shift of dynamic. A turn of the table. Before, it was Utahime with the knife to his throat, now it's Satoru holding the upper hand, with his soft commanding.

 

A game. He's playing a game. His game. And Utahime is the player. His player.

 

“Would you listen?” Utahime murmurs, lips parted as she feels Satoru's eyes fall to her lips.

 

“You know I would, senpai.” deep voice of his washes over Utahime, sending her skin the warmth. “If that's what you want, you know I'll give it to you. No questions asked.”

 

Her mind mirrors the storm outside. Were they still talking on the same topic?

 

A curse from outside steals both of Utahime and Satoru's attention on another occupant. Of course; they come in pairs. Gojo struts in with his hair and clothes all wet from the rain. Ethereal white hair plaster on his forehead, as his Nirvana tee clings to his body, giving Utahime all the glimpse without him needing to take off his shirt.

 

“Do not ever ask me to buy you a liquid detergent during a heavy storm again, unless you want your bloodline to be dead.” Gojo complains, leaving the plastic bag by the chair. 

 

“Have you ever thought it's the latter for me?” Satoru questions, earning a threatening glare from the twin.

 

Utahime eyes the brothers' interaction; it feels a little suffocating to have both boys that she avoided now here in the same space as hers. Again.

 

She wanted to pay them no mind—believe her when she say so— but when Gojo suddenly take off his shirt in one single movement, flashing Utahime in all his muscular glory body that makes her mouth salivate against her wants, her mind stop working, just for a brief moment before the heats sits familiar on her cheeks.

 

“Gojo!” Utahime scolds. “You can't do that.”

 

“See?” Gojo points at her. “Even Utahime knew you shouldn't kick me out like that.” 

 

He talks about something totally unrelated. That is not what Utahime meant.

 

“Your shirt, idiot.” Utahime says. “You shouldn't take off your shirt in a public space.”

 

She didn't know if that holds any truth, but any second longer she's looking at very wet Gojo, shirtless, low hanging sweatpants with his V-line bare to look at; she might just make bad, bad, decisions that her future self might regret.

 

Gojo appears unbothered, a single brow raised. “Is it written anywhere?”

 

Now it'll be useless for Utahime to hide her very obviously affected by his acts, with how hot she feels coursing all over her body. The heatness on her cheeks seems to sink deeper rather than cool it down. “You- ugh. It's pointless talking to you.” Utahime turns, refusing to spare him or Satoru any other glances.

 

Her gaze stays on her machine—pouring a cup  of softener, clicking all the blinking buttons, before she feels a warm body appearing on her back. A bare arms resting by her side while the other stays on her left.

 

Of course it's Gojo caging her like this. Of course. Fuck, calm down, calm down.

 

“Didn't expect to see you here, sweetcheeks.” Gojo murmurs. His voice makes the small hair at the back of Utahime's neck stand.

 

“It's a public space.” Utahime closed the lid of the machine. “Any occupants can be here.”

 

He simply hummed. Too close to her ear. Too close to her neck.

 

Which reminds her— “You and Satoru stayed here too?”

 

“Yeah.” Gojo replies, cheek inching away from her own. Utahime attention on the pouring water of the machine; Gojo does just as she's doing. “24th, house number 2407A.”

 

Just below her.

 

“Wanna come over sometimes,” Gojo purrs in her ear. “We welcome you no matter when.”

 

Utahime gulps. Her heart beats an unrhythmic tempo. Just before she's about to say anything, Satoru interrupts. 

 

“Gojo, stop teasing Senpai like that.” He didn't raise his voice. His words hold all the command. Said Gojo huffs, resting his cheek on top of Utahime's shoulder. 

 

“Just say you're jealous that she's giving her attention to me.” Gojo gloat.

 

“You're the last person I'll be jealous of with Senpai.” Satoru replied.

 

Utahime brows furrows, not understanding what Satoru actually meant by his words. The last person that he'll be jealous of with her? What's that supposed to mean?

 

Though it makes Gojo remove himself from her back, slumping his body to the chair by his brother's side with his arms crossed. It gives Utahime a little air to breathe. Her lungs need it, her mind needs all the oxygen to comprehend real thoughts instead of the uncharted territory ones, the one she always seems to step in whenever the twins are around.

 

“You really need to say sorry for your brash sometimes, Gojo.” Satoru scolds slowly, not loudly.

 

“Brash?” Gojo narrowed his gaze.

 

Satoru huffs, mirroring his brother's position. At their sitting now, Utahime can't even differentiate the two brothers if it wasn't for Satoru's glasses and Gojo's lack of shirt. They were so similar, from head to toe. Same hair colour, piercing blue eyes, almost the same build too.

“You make Senpai uncomfortable back in class.” Satoru reminds me. His words make warmth seeps all through Utahime's body, even when her heart knows there's not a single drop of discomfort flowing at the time.

 

Huh?

 

“Uncomfortable.” Gojo nods, ethereal blue meets Utahime, as she feels naked under his attentive gaze. “Were you uncomfortable with me at the time, Hime’? Was I going to brush?.” A smirk on his lips; butterflies flew all over her body. “Do you want me to apologize, Uta? Get on my hands and knees for you? I don't exactly do that, you know.”

 

“You never get on your knees for any girl?” Utahime gasps. Cheeks red. Satoru eyes widen as Gojo smirks, leaning back on the chair as his muscles tense. Her words come out wrong. To Gojo of all people, that boy could make anything come as dirty no matter how innocent a word is.

 

He even makes apologies sounds so seductive and amused.

 

“Oh sweetcheeks, I get on my knees for girls.” Gojo replies with his smirk unmoving. Satoru's eyes never glance away from her; as if he was mapping each and every reaction of hers, tattooing inside his mind for future use. “You knew that, didn't you?”

 

Utahime wanted to run off. Rushing back to her apartment, locking herself in her bedroom and screaming her embarrassment to her pillow. Because now, even when the cloud was dark, even when winds knocked in a sound of familiarity—her body heats like it was made of fire. Her mind wanders and wanders, thoughts of Gojo words who always hold like a seed to her garden of mind.

 

How he can words something so suggestive and planted those thoughts in her mind, that leaves Utahime to no choice but revisit it even when she knew she shouldn't. 

 

“Whatever.” She gave them her back when the machine stopped spinning. All that's left is the dryer, then she can throw her day's long clothes in her basket and just fold it back in her place.

 

“Nice ass.”

 

“What–” Utahime pulls her Mickey Mouse t-shirt down. “Don't look at it.” All she had was a shirt and shorts that were shorter than usual. Utahime gaze narrows, eyes fallen to Gojo. 

 

Now he longer had his arms crossed. Instead his fingers lace on his legs; specifically on his crotch. Utahime stuns, eyes meet his teasing azure-blue. 

 

“Catch something you see?” Gojo teases. “Wanna help me do something about it?”

 

Maybe she can just hang those clothes back home. Maybe she can use the dryer next time.

 

Because now, Utahime couldn't stay another second longer with Gojo unrelenting tease of seduction and Satoru eyes it all like he was stripping her bare in his imagination. The longer she stayed, the lessened her principle on wanting to get away from these boys.

 

She won't fall. No matter how her mind and body says otherwise. She falls once and once is enough.

 

They are at fault; mistakes that she doesn't want to repeat.

 

“Goodnight.” Utahime greets before she leaves the laundry room with her heart beating fast.

 

When Utahime went to bed that night, she hated how her mind kept wandering off.

 

What if she stays?

 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Days have passed since then, and Utahime went back to her old route—which was to avoid the twins no matter where she was. Knowing that, it's not just classes she shared but also the apartment. And it feels like Fate has a different plan to her life; and that was to make her ruin her principle and succumb to her needs instead.

 

Utahime knows her avoidance of them can be considered childish to certain groups of people. She is a 24 years old woman, avoiding twins who were younger than her by 3 years all because of the principle of ‘Never fall for someone with suggestive eyes.’ The eyes that show more than words can explain. It was Satoru who matched the criteria, and Gojo didn't just match it; he made another for her list, which was ‘along with a mouth whose words are sinning and no regrets.’

 

A couple of troubles they are; and the longer Utahime avoids them, the closer the date of the assignment that they are supposed to turn it comes.

 

Before Utahime realises, the big red marker circles on her little coffee table calendar reminds her she has exactly a week to complete it.

 

So when Utahime wipes off the last remaining bowl to sort them back inside the shelf, she decides to brave off and make the first move. The thought alone makes her body heats, her stomach twists in a feeling of desire. She doesn't know what to name it before; all through their meeting, Utahime lies again and again to herself that what she felt was merely uncomfortable or maybe awkward.

 

But how many lies were there lay to believe when it was them in her mind late at night? Their words and gaze makes her reach one of her vibrators and sleep with body tired and flushed cheeks? The memories of their legs tangling together, Gojo's palm mapping her skin while Satoru's hands on her cheek, guiding her to who he wants her?

 

And there's many things she hates, but the deeper and stronger is that Utahime knows, if they were to make a first move, she wouldn't say no. 

 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The walk to 2407A is more of an excitement rather than worrying. The weather outside was cold, clouds were dark; a sign of impending rain but never really wanted to shower the city in its winds and drenched. 

 

Utahime pulls her lower lips between her teeth as her medium heels click over the carpeted floor. The hallway smells of lavender with a hint of citrus. Soft with a touch of unexpectance. She hadn't even dressed up that much—a hot pink cropped hoodie with bedazzled PINK, a lighter pink legging with her hair flowing down her back. A matching pink headband on her head with a reading glasses perch on her nose.

 

Her breath is shallow when she comes face to face with the door of the apartment. Her fingers clench just subtlety around her holds on her bag of assignment before her other hand makes the first move—knocking on the door with a simple three sound.

 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

 

“A second.” 

 

Warmth smooth overUtahime's chest. Head is already dizzying as if she doesn't have a principle to follow over.

 

The door opens, the sight of Satoru greets her as Utahime tilts up to lock her eyes with his. “Hey.” She mutters.

 

Satoru looks taken back, but the obvious mapping of her outfit doesn't go unnoticed from Utahime. He was tattooing her again. Take each and every falls of her hair, her headband, blue eyes lingering over the PINK on her cropped hoodie. He traced a few seconds longer over the curve of her thighs, wrapped by the thin fabric of her stretchy legging.

 

“Utahime-senpai.” Satoru words are hard, eyes drop just a shade darker than before. “I didn't expect to see you take Gojo's offer on coming over.”

 

The principles stay on your principles.

 

Utahime offers a warm smile. “I was thinking about getting our assignments done.”

 

Satoru lifts a single brow behind his glasses, he moves to the side, welcoming her. “Then come on in, Senpai.” Just a beat lower than before, he adds, “I have been waiting for you.”

 

Her eyes capture around the penthouse; lavish all around with a touch of the twins around the spaces. There's undoubtedly big shelves of books, each and one of them are sorted by authors. And Utahime falls head over heels when most of them are romance books. Could it be Satoru's?

 

“Those are Gojo's.” Satoru answered her thoughts, catching Utahime by surprise. “He has loved reading for years. Our mother bought him Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen when he was 8. He has been collecting romance books ever since.”

 

Gojo? The Gojo? That Gojo?

 

Her fingers are traced over the aisle by Lynn Painter. Utahime gasps in excitement when her fingers meet the copy of the book that she just completed reading. Better Than The Movies. “He read this?”

 

“A favourite of his by the author.” Satoru walks by her side, hands deep inside his sweatpants pocket. “He read it about weeks ago. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you he woke me up at 3 am just to ramble about the Parking Spot that I had no sense of idea in.”

 

Utahime smiles. “I knew that scene.”

 

“Guess you both can bond over it.” Satoru shrugs with an equal warmth of smile.

 

Her mind can drift off anything else but to capture the aisle of books. Utahime feels like falling in love with the sight alone, there's really a lot of romance books, touch of fantasies, modern love and classic literature. 

 

Danielle Lori. Utahime gasps are small. Forefinger meets the hard cover of The Maddest Obsession.

 

“That'll be mine, senpai.” Satoru whispers in her ear, catching Utahime by surprise. She turns over her shoulder, their nose inches one another with how Satoru leans down just a bit, eyes never left hers. “I love romance too. These kinds of genres are my favourite.”

 

It was another thing that Utahime never expected of the twins. With how quiet and soft Satoru looks sometimes, Utahime would never expect him to love the dark romance genre. And Gojo, another boy who caught her off guard too. Playboy attitude but woke his brother up to ramble about a cute young adult romance?

 

Is there any other thing Utahime didn't know about them yet?

 

“Have you read it, Senpai?” Satoru asks, pulling out the copy of ‘The Maddest Obsession’ from the shelves. Long fingers flips between the pages.

 

“Yeah.” Utahime words come out as whispers. “It's good.”

 

Satoru nods, turning the pages before the darkness of his blues lock with her. “Any favourite scene in mind?”

 

Utahime gulps; each and every scene from the book becomes more prominent in her mind. She had. Of course, she does. It's one of her favourite books in the specific genre; but if she was to ask, would she be a pervert to say that her favourite scene was the male character, Christian Allister completely ravishing the female character, Gianna, in the car?

 

“It's been so long since I read it.” She whispers.

 

“Nothing comes to mind, senpai?” He protruded slowly.

 

Utahime lips parts; little by little, her walls crumbling down before she felt Satoru's palm by her cheeks. His touch was cold. Unexpectedly. It clears her mind just a bit, but also makes her bite her tongue from whimpering in a little realization—his hands are big.

 

“Satoru–”

 

“You have such a pretty lip, senpai.” Satoru noted, thumb softened by her lower lips. Utahime heart clenched in need. “It's so soft. It left me wandering alot.”

 

“W-wander?” Utahime practically forces the word to spill.

 

Satoru's gaze darkens; the blue of his eyes no longer the lighter shade that she thought it looked. Now it embraces like a midnight sky, so dark and endless. Promises of eternity but also a black hole of all the uncertainty. He hums, gears clicking in his mind as his thumb pulls her lower lips. Rough, callous fingers against the softness of her lips, Utahime's body begs to let out any sound of defeat.

 

Like a blink of an eye, his touches left hers. The copy of the book in his hand now slides back to its aisle. “Any drink would you like so we can wait for Gojo to come?”

 

Huh. “Uhm-” Utahime heart races. Cheeks red. “A-any–” she clears her throat, “any kind is fine.”

 

Satoru hums, hands inside his sweatpants pockets as Utahime leaves to admire his broad back. “Tea then.” He glances over his shoulder, catching Utahime's staring by surprise. There's a tiny glint of amuses in his orbs, but it's gone just as fast; as if there's a reputation he's upholding. “How many cubes of sugar do you prefer?”

 

Utahime glances around instead of locking her eyes with him. “2 is fine.”

 

Once his footsteps left for their abnormally large kitchen, Utahime breathes out the breath that she hadn't realised she's been holding. 

 

Being in the same space; even if it's just one of the twins bringing back the memories that they once shared more than just a space. Satoru's eyes have always been menacing, even if it had been weeks since their tangling sheets, she still couldn't forget how commanding his blues was, how it withheld so much power without even showing her a little story behind them.

 

When Utahime brings herself back to the living room sofa, the sound of sudden thundering almost takes her by surprise as her gaze falls over the ceiling-to-floor windows footsteps away from the living room. The spaces were large with yet another small couch and a little glass table facing yet another couch. A small plant by the window with its curtain wide open, giving Utahime the glimpse of impending storm that could hit Tokyo any hour from now.

 

“Here it is, senpai.” Satoru passes her a small glass with flowers decorated by its lips. “Do you mind waiting for Gojo in the meantime? I need to take a quick shower.”

 

“Of course.” Utahime takes the mug. “Don't let me keep your task at bay.”

 

Satoru offers a small smile; it catches Utahime's heart by surprise. “Very well.” 

 

Utahime huffs, taking the already warm tea in her grasp in one single gulp. She feels thirsty; even when she doesn't say that much. Her eyes closing, head leaning back on the creamy sofa. Her mind scrambles in thousands of different emotions, yet not once does the feeling have anything to do with the twins, nor does a single drop of regret from coming here today.

 

The tea cup is still in her grasp as droplets rain already hitting the heavy windows. Utahime sighs, glancing around the spaces before she decides to go to the kitchen and wash the cup. The tiles felt cold under her bare foot, she almost felt regret for not wearing a pair of socks before she left.

 

Cold water under her palm brings Utahime a little sense of peace. It was temporary, until she felt a body hovering behind her, catching Utahime's body on a full lock.

 

It was warm. Tall. Familiar. The scent of sandalwood cologne gives Utahime all the answers to know which twin it was.

 

“Careful.” The voice mutters in her ear.“You're gonna make us pay extra from that water wasting.”

 

Utahime closes the lid. “It's off now.” She says quickly. “You don't need to hover.”

 

Gojo chuckles, palm resting on the granite counter making Utahime unintentionally caged by him. “Hovering?” Gojo repeats. “You called this hovering?”

 

“Then what  do you call this?” Utahime counters. Her blood burns hot, coursing all through her veins as she feels Gojo's chest just inches away from her back.

 

Gojo hums in satisfaction. “Not hovering.”

 

Utahime swallows. “Gojo.”

 

Another hum.

 

“Move.”

 

He doesn't. 

 

Instead he leans in, lips by the shell of her ear,  the proximity now is closer than it was before. Breathes inches away from Utahime—not a whisper, not a tease. 

 

Just amused—far too amused.

 

“You always say that.” He murmurs. “Funny thing is, you never really mean it.”

 

Her heart races. “You don't know that.” 

 

Another small chuckle; he was all too composed.

 

“The problem is I do, ‘Hime.” Gojo says. “If you wanted me to move–gone even, you wouldn't still be standing here. You would have pushed me away or kicked me. But you didn't.”

 

Utahime's cheeks flushed, her gaze narrowing when she turned over her shoulder, tilting her head up to look at Gojo eye to eye. The glint of amuses and cockiness becomes permanent, swimming in those ethereal shades of blue.

 

She hated what he said. She hates it even more that there's truth in those words.

 

“I'm being polite.” Lie seeps between her teeth.

 

“Uh-huh.” Gojo's eyes drop low, gaze darken—he didn't even spare any inappropriate look such as her chest or lower—they settled on her hands. How her fingers clench the already clean glass in her palm. “You were polite that night too.”

 

Her breath catches.

 

“The most polite girl,” he continues. “You listen so well, that just after Satoru's fucked your mouth and I asked if I can used it, you let your pretty little tongue out, eyes all teary and begging for it.”

 

Utahime gulps—red course all over her skin. “That doesn't—”

 

“Mean anything?” Gojo's gaze meets hers. “Why? Because I know you don't feel uncomfortable by me bringing it up.”

Utahime hates Gojo. Hates him even more than anything with how he can read Utahime like an open book. The night wasn't supposed to be mentioned—she locked, sealed and pushed the little box at the very end of her mind and refused to even think about it anymore. But Gojo is Gojo. It's like some kind of a sixth sense of his, to read Utahime so easily and blatantly without even needing to open her mouth. As if just one look at Utahime, Gojo knows; like a guilty pleasure, Utahime embarrassingly thinks about those nights while her fingers between her thighs.

 

Somehow, her refusing to reply gives Gojo all the answers when he removes himself just a bit. Not too far that there's a step distancing them, but far enough for Utahime's mind to clean just a bit and not revisit the memories of how his lips felt against her.

Softly, Gojo adds. “But there's something I want to know.”

 

Utahime furrows her brows. “What?”

 

Breathy her word was—Gojo smirks. 

 

He tilted his head to the side, feigning an innocent puppy look. “Are you avoiding us,” he asks, “or are you scared to fall for it for the second time?”

Silence, only the loud sound of thunder outside—though it wasn't loud enough to break the unseen tension clouding on Gojo and Utahime. 

 

Utahime exhales, looking anywhere but him. “You're insufferable.”

 

“Yeah.” Gojo grins, satisfied, moving himself completely as his eyes track over her face. “But you're in our kitchen anyway. It answers me enough.”

 

The night will be long, Utahime knows. 

 

How does it end? She fears it's the way she had always known the answer too.

 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

They spend hours after that to complete their assignment with storms embracing the Tokyo night.

 

Being grouped with Gojo and Satoru wasn't as bad as Utahime thought it would be—they research when she asks, Gojo suggests certain things that bypass her memory, as Satoru noted down the key point for extra marks. It goes on for hours, and Utahime changes her seating position on the dining island multiple times so that she can't even feel her back anymore.

 

“Do we need to mention our name at the end?” Asks Gojo, his fingers halts over the keyboard. 

 

“If you don't want people to steal our hardwork.” Satoru suggested. “Add our name. Senpai, me and You.”

 

“Senpai, Gojo and Satoru,” Gojo clicks on the keyboard. “Got it.”

 

Satoru rolls his eyes, as Utahime chuckles. Seeing them comfortable with each other makes Utahime wish she at least had siblings too. All through her life, she was an only child—her cousins were pretty far from her. Age and all, they prefer to talk with people in their range rather than someone who's older than them.

 

But now, slumping with her chin resting on her palm, Utahime feels almost impossible to not admire how good looking both of the brothers are. Of course, they were practically controlling c + control v with each other, but the different aesthetics and vibes around them makes them almost different. Utahime feels her heart race when both of their attention is hers.

 

Like—now.

 

“Are you okay, Senpai?” Satoru asks. “You look rather flushed.”

 

“Maybe she's thinking about something unholy about us.” Nonchalant Gojo words his word as he arranges the papers, computers and pens—Utahime narrows her gaze at his direction. “She's always like that when we have our attention on her.”

 

Satoru looks almost impressive. “Is that so?”

 

“There is no such a thing.” Utahime defended weakly. “He's talking shit like he usually does.”

 

And she needs to leave, as soon as possible if she doesn't want to repeat something that she named forbidden on her list. Hours from the evening until night time already makes Utahime flushed and almost embarrassed each time one of the boys talks or looks at her a minute longer than they supposed too. Any more time than that, Utahime believes she doesn't need a persuasion from them to get on her knees of her own accord.

 

“It's late.” Utahime looks from Gojo to Satoru. “As we are done, I'll take my leave now.” 

 

“Wanna have movie night with us?” Gojo offers. “It's not like tomorrow's not a weekend anyway.”

 

Utahime bites her lower lip—her body knows this is the invitation to breach her border. Utahime also knows this is the part she's supposed to say no, and leave for her apartment. 

 

“I-”

 

“Why's the rush, Utahime-senpai?” Satoru is the one to ask now. “I'm sure you are just going to go back and possibly sleep the night away. Why not stay, have a light snack and a movie night with us?”

 

The glimpse of desire swims in both Satoru and Gojo's gaze gives Utahime the answer—it wouldn't just be a snack and a movie night. It'll be something more. Something that she's sure swimming in all of their three minds. And Utahime should say no. She shouldn't agree. It was a mistake. A mistake she shouldn't repeat–

 

“Sure.” Utahime breathes out instead. Their amusement and smiles look cockier than usual. “Where's the harm in that?”

 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The harm comes in the form of Utahime seated in the middle between the tall twins—again. 

 

The sofa was spacious, the television was even bigger screen than the one Utahime had back in her apartment. And when she glances around between the two of the boys; silently asking if they were going to be at the arms of the sofa, they simply pay her no mind. Both focused equally on the television; where Gojo had the remote as he scrolled through the movie catalog.

 

She would have a voice if she didn't like it—traitorously, Utahime knows she did.

 

“So.” Gojo doom scrolling. “Any movie in mind? Specific genre maybe? Utahime? Satoru?”

 

“I don't mind anything.” Utahime reply, eyes tracking over the television. “What's that about?”

 

Satoru and Gojo exchange a quick look before the cockier between the two decides to answer.

 

“Something like a mafia boss kidnap a girl that he liked and make her fall for him in the span of 365 days.” Gojo smirks, eyes fall to her. “It's a romance, I think. But they fuck.” He grins before he adds. “Alot.”

 

Utahime blushes though she grumbles. “We are not watching that.”

 

Gojo chuckles. “Why not, Hime’? You shy?”

 

“Or you didn't watch movies with sex scenes?” Satoru questions in feign innocence.

 

“I- just play anything. I don't mind.” She chose to say. Crossing her arms and leaning back on the couch, Utahime's heart beats a steady thump as she tries to calm her racing body down. All she wishes is for the boys to not choose movies with undoubtedly more explicit scenes; she doesn't mind it per se. 

 

But watching it with someone who you slept with just weeks ago makes the whole situation even more awkward or tension rises.

 

In the end, Gojo settles for a romance movie about time travel. Utahime hadn't seen it before, and with a single clap of Satoru's hand, the living room embraced in darkness, leaving only a single dimmed light from the kitchen area.

 

 Utahime feels almost nervous and underlying excitement and seating between the both of them. And she tries her best to not let anything distract her while her body and mind tries to stay on her principle in sync.

 

Almost an hour later, the tension rises when Utahime feels Satoru's fingers just down at her lower back. Utahime breathes a silent gasp, but she decides that maybe it was a mistake. Until she feels Gojo next, fingers twirling the end of her hair while his attention is still on the movie before them.

 

As time passes, Utahime's attention is no longer on the movie; because their touches linger. Satoru's palm smoothes over the back of her shirt, Gojo's leaning much closer now—her body and mind rises in excitement; a total contrast of her principle now tumbling down. Brick by brick. Second by second.

 

Utahime chest heaves, lips parted, heart thundering against her ribs as  Gojo's fingers threads through her hair. Tugging possessively. Satoru wasn't so different when Utahime's eyes closed, leaning back just a bit when his fingers trails up from her neck, down to the sharp of her jaw.

 

She hums—moans when Gojo tug her head back, carefully. “Gonna run from us again, Uta?”

 

Satoru chuckles, pulling the sleeves of her shirt as his lips litter little kisses that make her whine in desperation—oh, she wants them! Oh, she wants them so bad.

 

“We both know that's not what you want, senpai.” Satoru's words threaded carefully. Lips caressing her shoulder blade. “You want us, why not just give in?”

 

Right then and there, Utahime hears the loud sound by her ears; how her principle tumbling down. She felt pointless denying something that she has been growing desperate for so long. With a shuddering breath, Utahime moans, feeling Satoru's kisses by her neck when she turns and crashes her lips with Gojo.

 

Gojo's hold on her hair was possessive, guiding her to his kiss in a mess of kiss and saliva; desire pooling at the pit of her stomach when Gojo tilts his head to the side, deepening their kiss even more. He was a tease—tugging her lower lips between his teeth, smirking at her desperation at chasing his lips before his mouth, hot and insistent on mapping her mouth to his own claims.

 

There was no slow discovery, they were familiar with each other. There was urgency, a growing need that all three of them were eager to have for each other—and Utahime would be stupid to not fall for the call of temptations again.

 

Satoru teeth tugs her ear making her moan in Gojo's drunken kiss. His fingers no longer trace her neck, instead Utahime feels his large palm around her waist, pulling her back to his chest while the other snakes at her front just before it settles around her neck in a desperate choke hold.

 

Gojo grunts, removing his wet lips from Utahime's flushed ones. A thin line of their mess of saliva makes Gojo's smirk widen, before his thumb wipes those traces off.

 

Utahime was left to her own accord just a millisecond long before Satoru's lips met her. Desperate, tongue licking all over her inside as she clings to Satoru's palm around her neck—it wasn't strong enough to cut her breathing pipe, but enough to make Utahime's mind grow heady in desire. Satoru wasn't silent in making her moan between their mess of lips, it made Utahime lean her head back to deepen her mouth to his—it was so good.

 

“Uta.” Gojo murmurs. Satoru removes his lips from hers, his lips trailing down to her neck in little bites. “You are ours tonight.”

 

Satoru's thumb tracing over her windpipe, amuse smiles of his lips.  “And we are not asking.”

 

Utahime fingers clenches over Gojo's shirt in desperation—it was all the answer he needed before he pulls Utahime to his lap, already on his feet as he carries her to a room. She wasn't shy, she was what she always was with them—desperate. And Utahime hadn't planned on holding back, she wanted them, needed them, desperately wanted them to consume her whole and make her their belongings like she was theirs once.

 

And tonight, Utahime feels satisfied with being theirs and theirs alone.

 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gojo sets Utahime on the bed; she was left to her thoughts. The twins' eyes were daring and carried so much desire for her, that Utahime hadn't planned on leaving them once.

 

“Last chance, Senpai.” Satoru mutters, slipping off his shirt in one single movement. His footsteps bring him to the corner of the bed—broad, muscular chest makes heats pools between her thighs.

 

“We won't ask twice.” Gojo adds, his eyes gleaming.

 

Utahime knees the bed, inching closer to the both of them as her fingers soft against the band of Satoru's sweatpants. His gaze darkens, smiles nonexistent as she notices his abs tighten. 

 

She palms Satoru's growing erection, eyes blinking to the twins. “I want it.” The desperation slips to her voice. “I've been wanting you both so bad.” Truth spills, but Utahime was too far gone to regret.

 

Gojo chuckles, his hands settle on her hair, midnight strands wrap around the long of his fingers. “Take him out, and tell me more about how bad you want us.”

 

Utahime flushes, but listen she does. Her innocent eyes meet Satoru's blown lust, she tugs the sweatpants down, pulling Satoru's hard and hot dick in her hands. It was heavy too, but her hands remember how good it felt everywhere on her body. Utahime eyes never left Gojo as she tugs Satoru's cock; up and down, warm spread all over her palm before her tongue licks just at the tip.

 

“I've been thinking about how good Satoru's cock inside my mouth.” Utahime kisses the side of Satoru's cock—his Adam's apple bob. Utahime shifts her attention back to Gojo's needy gaze. “How good you fuck my pussy that no matter how many toys I take, nothing feels better than yours.”

 

Gojo grins, all teeth and tease. “So all you have been thinking in that pretty little mind of yours, was how good we fucked you once?”

 

Utahime lips trails over the dripping precum of Satoru's cock, she blinks, nodding her head enthusiastically. At that Gojo laughs, his fingers stay cards throughout Utahime's hair until he pulls her back in steady grip—gone was the tease. What stayed behind was his predatory smile that made Utahime whine with her head leaning back, thighs clenching with one another.

 

“That's unfair.” Gojo pouted. “You've been avoiding us everywhere, leaving us to the scrap of your little attention, just for you to get drunk on how good our cocks are.”

 

Utahime flushes; from how Satoru's cock bobs just at her lips, how her head was thrown back to lock with Gojo's darken blue, how her words were now used against her, to show just how pathetic she was.

 

Yet; not an ounce of regret exists in Utahime's bones.

 

Satoru sighs, taking his cock of Utahime's hand as he leaves Utahime to glance at his large hand and pumps his cock lazily. Her mouth salivates at the thought being used by them. “You've been a very bad girl, Senpai. Not a good senior to your juniors at all.”

 

Utahime gasps, feeling Satoru's thumb, wet from his precum slides over her lower lips—her tongue cleans it up just as fast. 

 

“Good girls get rewarded.” Satoru's voice low between the three of them. “But bad girls get punished. Which one are you, senpai?”

 

Utahime breath picks up as she mutters. “Not a good girl.”

 

“Exactly.” Gojo whispers in her ear. “So because you've been a really bad one, you're going to listen to each one of our requests until we deem you good enough for rewards. Is that clear for you, princess?”

 

She hums—a slap right on the right side of her asscheeks. 

 

“Words.” Gojo teeth scraped by her neck. “I say, is that clear for you, princess?”

 

“Yes.” Her brain's hazy, mind scrambles. 

 

“Then,” Satoru's head tilts to the floor. “Strip, on your knees.”

 

Utahime feet on the floor as the twins both eyed her figure in interest. She starts it in controlled pace, fearing that her eagerness would show too much—slowly untangling her headband before she unzips the cropped hoodie and throws them both on the floor. It left her with a white tee, so she didn't spare another seconds to slide them off. The hot pink Victoria's Secret bra catches Satoru gaze, which he just huffs in amused. Utahime unhook her bra, pulling down her leggings and kicking them to the side, and last but not least, her pink thong. The wetness right in the middle of the panties didn't go unnoticed from both Gojo and Satoru's hungry gaze. 

 

Gojo slides off his shirt, his muscular chest gives Utahime a vision of what she once had on him—nails over his chest, his rough palm over her ass, pulling her up and down to his command. 

 

Utahime can feel her wetness clings to her inner thighs just at the mere memories. 

 

“Come here, baby.” Gojo calls her, his palm soothing his growing erection that is tented against his sweatpants. 

 

Her feet bring her to them, slowly she kneels on the floor as the twins' height towers her body in both of her direction—Satoru on the right, with Gojo on the left. 

 

Satoru was the first one to make a move, palm sliding over her hair before his other hand tugging his hard cock, lips pulled into a straight line. But instead of feeling intimidated, Utahime's body heats up even more than the first night they slept together. 

 

“We're gonna take a turn on you.” Satoru warns. “Fuck your mouth to our pace. No words out other than that little moans and screams for us. If we go overboard and you think it's too much, tap our thighs.”

 

Utahime nods, “yeah. Okay.”

 

Satoru taps her cheeks in a light slap. “No. Words. Out, Senpai. Already being disobedient to us?”

 

She shook her head, apologies at the tip of her stomach before she realised better. Utahime shakes her head again, earning her a satisfied hum from Satoru.

 

“Good.” Was the last word Satoru said, before he wraps his fingers around her hair, tugging her to his cock as he thrust his hot, thick, dick inside her mouth in one slide motion. Tears prickling at the corner of her eyes at the sudden move, but Utahime regulates her breath just as fast, hand obediently on her lap as Satoru takes her head back and forth on his hard cock.

 

The taste was familiar, the sight of Satoru's piercing gaze on Utahime’s mouth makes her cunt drip over the wooden floor of the bedroom. Satoru didn't even plan on going slow on her; the tip of his cock knocked over the back of her throat multiple times, and each time he slid out, he thrust them inside back again. The pace no longer controlled—Satoru fucks her mouth, hard, fast, deeper while the sound of her mouth gurgling over his cock makes him curse under his breath.

 

“What a good senpai you are.” Satoru grunts, fucking her mouth harder as his hands tugging her hair. “Let your junior use your mouth like this. Ha– fuck, such a perfect fucking mouth.”

 

“She's our cockslut, isn't she?” Gojo smirks, tugging his cock in a slow pump as his eyes locked over Utahime's disheveled face—lust circling her golden brown from his words. “All naked and letting my brother use your mouth like this. What would people say when they see a pretty little teacher's pet, Iori Utahime, thinks about cocks all day and opens her mouth for her juniors to use because she knows she's a bad girl.”

 

Satoru curses, sliding off his cock from her throat, the tip of his cock meets her inner cheeks, an obscene sight makes the man in glasses grunts.  “Not just any juniors, Gojo.” The underside of his dick slides over Utahime's open mouth, precum and saliva bubbling as Utahime spits them back on his cock, tongue out. “Just us.” Satoru mutters, tapping his cock over Utahime's tongue, her pink cheeks, “just us because we fucked all of her holes, now she doesn't know how to think straight.”

 

“A slut.” Gojo notes. “Our slut.”

 

And Utahime moans. Her eyes wet from unshed tears, cunt pulsing in heartbeat and needs as Satoru's fuck her hard and deep inside her mouth that all Utahime can think about was how good this feels.

 

“My turn, Satoru.” Gojo says, pulling her head off his brother's cock as her tongue lolls out, blinking in want. “Hey, sweetcheeks.” His hands slide over his hard cock as he tilts his head to the side. “You look kinda rough up, Hime’. But don't worry, we're planning on making it worse.”

 

Utahime nods, eager as her tongue licks his tip, slides down to the skin off his cock.

 

Gojo smiles, sliding his cock inside and out of her mouth in a controlled tempo, but Utahime doesn't want that. She doesn't want control, she wants hard, rough, unforgiving that all she can feel tomorrow was sore all over her body.

 

So when Gojo slowly accommodated his cock inside her mouth, Utahime shook her head.

 

Gojo's gaze is narrow. “What?” He sounds annoyed as she shakes her head again. A big, hard cock of his slides over her inner cheeks, slowly thrusting inside to her throat before he pulls out.

 

He furrows his brows, reading her face. “You don't want me to go slow?”

 

Utahime shook her head.

 

“Want me to fuck your mouth instead?” Gojo sounds amused as she nods. “Fuck, baby, where have you been in our life, huh?” He still slides his cock over her cheeks, sliding them on her lower lips. “You really shouldn't leave bed that morning, Hime'.” Gojo grunts, his cock sets a punishing pace inside of her mouth. “We were planning on-fuck, we were planning on waking you up with our cock. Me on the back with Satoru in your front.”

 

Utahime rolls her eyes back, hands clenching on top of her thighs as Gojo throat fucks her impossibly harder than the already deep pace his brother sets before him. Satoru eyes on her face, how his brother fuck her mouth, how tears pooling down her cheeks, lips bubbling in saliva and comes—Satoru took one of Utahime's hand to wrap around his cock. She reads the sign, tugging his cock back and forth.

 

Gojo pulls his cock out, precum clings on her tongue in strings of saliva. “Spit it on Satoru's cock.” 

 

And listen Utahime does. The saliva, her and Gojo's combined mess drips off her tongue down to Satoru's hard cock. And right after, Gojo pulls her head back to his cock; his punishing pace picks up as Utahime hands tugging Satoru's cock, wet from Utahime's and Gojo's combined mess.

 

“Shit.” Gojo fucks her mouth faster, his pace picking up. “Your mouth feels so good, Hime’, makes me wanna move in. Can I, Hime? Can I fuck your mouth all the time? Swallow my load every fucking time? Each time I wanna fuck it, no matter where it is, you'll come won't you?” 

 

Utahime moans, nodding eagerly. 

 

“If I'm outside, and I wanna fuck your mouth in front of your friends, you'd put that tongue out and let me use, won't you?”

 

It's almost pathetic how the imagination makes her inside swirl in thirst.

 

Satoru chuckles, hand pushing back the wet strands plaster on her forehead. His cock slides between Utahime's palm and never halts; matches the pace of his brother using her mouth. “I think senpai wanted to be used in public. To think that I thought she'll be embarrassed when you suggested, just to see her eyes roll back and her fingers creeping over her cunt.”

 

Gojo groans, pulling off his cock from Utahime's mouth before his palm lays a light slap over her face. “Who gives you permission to touch yourself, huh?”

 

Her body was reeling from any kinds of contact the twin was giving her; that even slaps and hair pulling does nothing but dragging Utahime's releases closer and closer each time.

 

Gojo's cock slides inside her mouth, Utahime eyes shutter close, moaning from him pulling her to his pace instead of giving her the reins. What brought Utahime's eyes widen was when she felt Satoru's feet pushing her thighs open for his hungry eyes to feast—he smirks.

 

“Won't you look at that.” Satoru drawls, aa Gojo grunts, fucking her mouth harder when his attention follows Satoru's to between Utahime's thighs. “All dripping on the wooden floor, senpai. All from us fucking your mouth?”

 

Eagerly she nods her head, Gojo laughs, inching his dick out of Utahime's mouth as the thin strips of saliva and his precum clings to her lower lips and the tip of his dick.

 

“Tell us, Hime.” Gojo urges.

 

“S’ so good.” Utahime's throat is burning. Her vision was blinding. Her tongue numb, but nothing feels better than getting her throat fucked by Gojo and Satoru, aa they taking turns, set the pace, and properly used her like she always wanted.

 

“Like having you- you fucked my mouth.” Utahime hands couldn't help but to reach their twitching cocks. “It's so good. Like getting used by you both.”

 

“Well fuck.” Gojo chuckles. “Gonna make us fucking burst on your face at this pace.”

 

Embarrassment was out of the window when Utahime giggled. Jerking their cocks harder, Satoru cursed under his breath with one of his hands holding Utahime's hair, while the other pushing back his sweaty strands.

 

“Give it.”. Utahime tug their dicks harder. “Come on my face, then fuck me like you both wanted too.”

 

Gojo grunts, thumb softens over her lower lip before he thrust two of his fingers inside her mouth. Satoru wasn't so different, Utahime feels his dick twitching when her tongue licks the tip of his cock, and before Utahime realises; Satoru bursts all over her face. His thick, white semen drops from her forehead, down to the slope of her nose.

 

“Ha- f-fuck, Senpai.” Satoru lids heavy as she keeps her pace, forcing each drop down to the red of her lips before Utahime tongue licks all over his shaft. Eyes gleaming, lips smiling. “You're so fucking good at this.”

 

Utahime taps Satoru's dick one last time on her tongue, before her attention shifts to Gojo's piercing gaze. “Come on, Gojo. Give it to me.”

 

Gojo grunt, throwing his head back as Utahime was left to eyeing the sharp of his throat, his bobbing Adam's apple before warmth, spurts spills over her cheeks and mouth. Her eyes closing, savoring the tinge of saltiness over her lower lips as ecstasy swims all over her inside, with her pounding heart matches the steady beat of pulse between her thighs.

 

“Shit.” Gojo curses, taps the remnants of his coming all over Utahime's lips and mouth. “You worn me out. That's a lot more than I'm used to.”

 

Utahime smirks, bats her eyes in feign innocence. “Is it because of me?”

 

A feeling of soft fabric wiping by her side, pulls Utahime attention from Gojo to the attentive Satoru. He looks abnormally beautiful under the moonlight, as he wipes off the comes from Utahime's face in such a softness one only keeps for their lover.

 

“Everything is because of you, senpai.” Said Satoru. Her vision is much clearer now, though the remnants of stickiness on her face reminds her just what kind of activity these twins had been put up to her with. “And I think it's about time we both reward you, huh? You're being such a good girl to us. Let us fucked your mouth, use you. Come on, senpai. Tell us what you want.”

 

Utahime wants everything. Their mouth, because her body remembers how loud Satoru was when he tongue-fuck her weeks ago. She also remembers how good Gojo was, when whispers dirty words by her ear, thrust all three of his fingers inside her pussy, while her thighs were left shaking from countless orgasms the man pulled out of her.

 

But above all, Utahime wants—

 

“Fuck me.” Utahime blinks to their ocean blues.

 

Gojo snorts. “You don't want our mouths first? Prep you up with our fingers?”

 

Utahime shook her head. “Wanted you to fuck me. Hard and fast.” Desire bleeds between her words. “Want it to hurt when you slide in, before you fuck me to your heart content.”

 

“Fuck.” Satoru curses, before carding his fingers through the Utahime mess of hair. “On the bed. Now.”

 

She wouldn't need to be told twice when Utahime stood on her feet, body brimming in desire before she lay on her back. Each and every movement makes her cunt clenches in anticipation. It builds up when it's Satoru who joins her on the bed, pulling her by her legs before he adjusts himself to be on his knees between her spread thighs.

 

Utahime whimpers when Satoru fingers rubs absently through her wetness. The glass that he never pulls off makes Utahime mouth waters, when he brings the same fingers to his mouth. Licking each and every drop, cleaning her while the seriousness of his gaze locked with Utahime's; unshift.

 

“Satoru will fuck you first.” Gojo murmurs, sitting himself on a lone couch that faces both Satoru and Utahime like a king admiring its play. “When he had his fill in you, I'll fuck his come out of you, while your body takes another round of loads from me.”

 

“Yes.” Utahime moans. 

 

A tight grip and a choke from Satoru pulls Utahime's attention back to the man in glasses. He looks so serious, as if this was a challenge that he had practised and anticipated for; and now to show just how good he had become present to him on a silver platter.

 

“And I'm not just going to fuck you and leave you to Gojo to ravish after, senpai.” Satoru's words were serious, as Utahime nodded hurriedly. He smirks, the tip of his cock breaching her tight pussy in one, slow thrust, so she can accommodate his length fully.

 

“O-oh, fuck.” Utahime cries. Reeling in Satoru's feeding her inch by inch, each and every vein grazing her walls making her dizzy.

 

“You keep me waiting, senpai.” Satoru thrust his cock fully before he pulled out just a bit. “I look for you everywhere, and all you ever did was avoid me.”

 

Her lower lips between her teeth when Satoru thrust his hard, full length of his dick inside her. 

 

“You bruised me.” Satoru grunts, picking up his pace with his hand still holding a steady grip around her neck. “Now I'm going to make you regret even thinking about avoiding me.” He warns, the loud squelching sound of her pussy ringing in Utahime's ears. 

 

Satoru was never a soft lover—he fucks like he was chasing an instant high. Punching her womb with the tip of his cock, harder and faster. His eyes trails over the sweat of her body, Satoru grunts, eyes locking to her bouncing tits.

 

“Fuck.” Satoru curses, tilting Utahime head to the side as he litters marks and bites while never once his hips falter to chase the high of their tangling bodies.

 

Utahime moans were loud, Gojo eyes lock over the bounce of her tits, how her stomach tents just a bit when Satoru rough fucks her inside to his own heart content.  Gojo's gaze was heavy, meeting Utahime as his hand wrapped around his growing hardness. 

 

“P-please.” Utahime begs. For what? She doesn't even know. Her hands trails down to the mess of Satoru's hair, before he instantly holds both of her wrists with one hand, pin to the top of her head.

 

Satoru groans when his eyes fall to her pussy. How her cunt swallows his cock, taking each and every punishing pace in welcoming. He was in trance.

 

“Shut up.” Satoru thrust his point and middle finger inside of her mouth, making her moans. “How are you acting all innocent in class when you get so easily wet from getting your mouth fucked, senpai? Hmm-fuck, such a tight fucking pussy, you let every junior of yours run a train in this cunt, senpai?”

 

Her toes curl—Utahime shook her head, taking his fingers like she did with his cock.

 

Satoru chuckles, his thrust never once faltering. “Course’ not. Other than being a reliable senpai, you're also our slut.”

 

There's no denying how much Utahime's body acts like a cat in heat whenever Gojo and Satoru are around. Even now, the degradation should make her body angry in disrespect; instead it reels. Clenching around Satoru's cock when he fucks her deeper, harder, begging around his fingers in her mouth to make her worse.

 

“F-fuck.” Both of Satoru's hands held her thighs before he turned her to the side. Body facing Gojo's hard on before Satoru slides inside her cunt in one, swift wet motion. “You're such a good girl, Utahime-senpai. Your pussy feels so good.” Satoru rambles. “Look at my brother, senpai. Tell him how you're just a slut who likes to get fuck by us both. Tell her–shit, go on.”

 

“M’–” Utahime whines when Satoru thrust harder, yanking her head back in one hand with his cock fucks her hard fast. Her bleary gaze meets Gojo. “Uhm- m’ a s-slut.” Her eyes roll back, pussy clenches around Satoru's cock when he pulls out, rubbing his hard length over her wet pussy with a loud groan, before he thrust back inside.

 

“Come on, senpai.” Satoru words husky by her ear, mouth mapping over her jaw. “Tell Gojo how good my cock feels inside of you. Tell- fuck me– fucking tell him, senpai, how this good little pussy is all mine.”

 

“Its s-so good, Gojo.” Utahime cries out. Her thighs tremble, her release approaching closer and closer. “He fucks me soo g-good.” 

 

“Yeah?” Gojo is amusing. “You like his cock, Hime'?”

 

Utahime groans, head nodding eagerly. “M’ I'm so c-close.”

 

Gojo chuckles. His hard, girthy dick slaps on his stomach, it leaves Utahime mouth salivates, pussy tingles to have his next.

 

“Fuck, fuck.” Satoru drags her back to the bed, bringing both of her legs to his shoulders, before he leans down. Breathes inches away from one another before Satoru closes the gap.

 

To call it a kiss would be deceiving—it was nothing but a tangle of tongue, saliva drips from the corner of her mouth when Utahime couldn't even concentrate from how hard Satoru was fucking her.

 

“So fucking flexible.” Satoru curses, hips going back and forth inside of her. “Come around my cock, senpai. I'll fuck my come deep inside of you if you give me what I want.”.

 

Like a ribbon unloose, Utahime burst all over Satoru's in loud moaning with her hearing going to a temporary stop. She didn't even hear Satoru's curse, all she felt was his cock thrusting impossibly hard inside of her, before ropes of come paints Utahime inside to his own mark. 

 

“Shit, yeah.” Satoru pulls out, dollop of his comes trails down to Utahime's ass before he grunts, pushing all his release back inside with no other thoughts. “Take all of it. Every. Fucking. Drop off me, senpai.”

 

She whimpers, lifting her head to see Satoru's cock glistening in their combined mess. It was a lot, she notices. Ropes of his come still cling to the tip of worn out pussy, Satoru's heavy gaze meets her.

 

His  glasses were crooked. White hair all sweaty and messy on his forehead. On his stomach, Utahime notices translucent water-like, that she flushed over—it got to be from her.

 

“Pull out, Satoru.” Gojo urges. “You had your turn, now let me fuck her.”

 

Satoru groans. “I need her again.”

 

Utahime feels her body ignite even when it's still sensitive. 

 

Gojo ignores him. “That's too bad, ‘cause I promise to fuck your come out of her.” He smirks when he rearranges himself on the bed, gesturing Utahime to his erect cock. “Come here pretty. Sit on your throne.”

 

Utahime knew her body is still weary from Satoru's intense fuck, but she can't deny herself the pleasure of being used by Gojo. The flashes of Gojo intensity and his sometimes almost nonexistent refractory period at the time, never failed to become Utahime choice of fantasy when she was left to her own with only her fingers and toys.

 

And so she crawls to him, Satoru palm lays a small smack on her ass making her bite her lips, before she sits on top of Gojo's hard cock. If it was hard as a rock, lay over his stomach.

 

Utahime couldn't help herself but to grind her dripping pussy over Gojo's cock. Her palm leaning back, eyes locked over Gojo, even when the man was too distracted to the sight of her red pussy, marking his cock from his brother's come.

 

“You're going to keep your promise, Gojo?” Utahime teases, body going back and forth. 

 

He simply laughed. “What? You mean ‘fucking his come out of you’ promise?”

 

She nods. The tip of his dick kisses her clit making Utahime breathe out a sigh. “Satoru had done his job impossibly well. I don't know if you can keep up.”

 

The other brother chuckles, making Gojo grunts in his direction.

 

Gojo lays a loud smack on Utahime’s ass before he grips them hard, catching her off guard. “You wounded me when you said you prefer his cock, Hime-chan.”

 

Utahime simply giggles, palm smoothing over the hard plane of his abs. “Think I'm going to keep on preferring his cock if you're not going to do anything to me.”

 

Gojo took her words as a challenge when he tangled his fingers around her strands, pulling her head back before taking his dick in one hand, as he pulled her down to his cock. Each and every curve makes Utahime toes curl. The girthy of his dick makes her feel impossibly fuller even when Satoru had just fucked her hard with his dick—Satoru already has a big dick to begin with. 

 

“You're so fucking– fuck.” Gojo curses, grinding Utahime to his cock. She can feel the tip of his dick kissing her cervix, how her walls accommodate to his length like a pro.

 

Gojo hums, lifting her thighs with both hands before he brings her down again, feeling every inch of his mapping her walls and inside, all while Utahime and Satoru's combined mess drips down to his dick, turning the blanket below into a wet mess.

 

“I miss fucking you, Utahime.” Gojo brings her down to his chest with his feet on the bed. “I keep wanting to pull you to the side and fuck you whenever I saw you in class or library.”

 

Utahime moans, feeling Gojo slowly picking up his pace. The sounds of the mess of comes from her previous fuck with Satoru makes her cheeks flush.

 

“When I see you bite that pencil in class, I keep imagining your mouth taking my cock with no complaint.” Gojo fucks her harder, pace chasing the impending release that he wants. “Always had a dream of fucking you in public, maybe fuck- maybe next time I can fuck this pussy in the library while your friends are revising their study. Should I, Utahime?”

 

If Satoru was a hard lover who fucks her like an impending mission, Gojo basks in filthy and explicit dreams. The last time they fucked, Utahime still remembers how Gojo had fucked and filled her, then eat their combine mess before spitting them inside her mouth and fucked them with his cock.

 

“Hmm- yes, y-yes, ha- fuck.” Utahime moans, gripping her tits from going hard from the bounce as Gojo never once stops his movements. He was eager, fucking or mapping her inside with his cock. Up and down he guides her, slapping her ass when she grinds over his hard-on, biting her neck when he chooses his pace, and thrust his cock deep without another care in the world.

 

“Gonna come in here,” Gojo murmurs, filthy by her ear. His dick pistoning inside, Utahime cunt clenches hard with her tongue lolling out. “Gonna have my fill here, but it won't be fun alone.”

 

His movements stop.

 

“W-what?” Utahime whines, palm on his chest, before Gojo pulls her down, both hands gripping her ass as his cock slips out. The trails of his precum fell to the hardness of his dick, but her body was too reeling, wanting Gojo to make her come.

 

Another palm smoothes over her cunt ignites a sense of excitement inside Utahime. Gojo grunts, thrusting his dick back inside as Utahime feels Satoru fingers close to her rim, but not exactly breaching in.

 

“Wanna come in you,” Gojo licks her ear, teeth grazing her jaw. “But I wanted Satoru to fuck in your cunt too, so we can both fill you simultaneously.”

 

In her cunt?  Both of them?

 

“B-both?” She asks between stuttering words. Gojo thrust was slow, but deep enough to make her eyes roll back. “But h-how?”

 

Satoru kisses the side of her cheek, hands smoothes down from her neck, gripping her tits with a flick over her nipples, before it meets around her waist.

 

“I would love to fuck your ass while Gojo ruining your cunt, senpai.” Satoru murmurs, eyes locked to his brother, ramming slowly and deep inside of Utahime. “But God knows how much we both wanted to fill your pussy at the same time.”

 

Before she can ask more, Gojo cups her cheeks as he brings her down. Their lips meet in a desperate, hungry kiss. Like thirsty lovers, ache for their one true love kiss that they have been begging to meet for decades. Gojo kisses are dizzying, mind numbing as he pulls her lower lips between his to suck, bites, sucking her tongue in his mouth in such a passionate way.

 

Utahime was high enough with the kiss, that she almost missed the feeling of Satoru's cock slides inside her pussy. Slow and purposely teasing, making her break the kiss to look over her shoulder. 

 

“Come on, Satoru.” Gojo urges. “Put it inside so we can both ruin Utahime's pussy like we wanted too. Like she begs too.”

 

All three of them groan when Satoru cock slides alongside Gojo's. 

 

If Utahime feels full before, nothing can ever come close to the feeling of Gojo and Satoru dick feeding her pussy, that Utahime knows nothing can ever beat the fullness of it. They were purposeful, making sure Utahime is comfortable enough with both of their cocks inside her pussy before they left Utahime to nothing but to scream their names and beg for them to go harder.

 

The room were loud with the sound of skin meeting with one another, wetness getting fucked out of Utahime's tight cunt as Gojo and Satoru bend and break her the way they always desired too. When Satoru pulls out leaving inches inside, Gojo thrust his dick so she wouldn't need to feel the feeling of emptiness, as they both taking turn in fucking, ruining, marking Utahime body to their initial. 

 

Utahime whines when eyes fallen to the bulge on her stomach—both appearing and missing each time Gojo and Satoru fucks their length, rearranging her guts to their girths.

 

“You're such a whore, Utahime.” Gojo muttered through his gritted teeth, fucking her hard and deep while Satoru chases alongside of him. “Letting us both fuck our cocks inside of your pussy at the same time. Tell us how good it feels.”

 

“S-so f-full.” Utahime cries, leaning her head back to Satoru's shoulder, while Gojo flicks her clit. “I'm so c-close.”

 

“How are other boys going to satisfy you now, senpai?’ Satoru words ringing in her ear. “Now we teach your body to come on our cock. Not one, but both, at the same damn time. How is anyone else ever going to compare, huh?”

 

“Should've chained her to our bed.” Gojo chuckles, thrusting his fingers inside her mouth while she moans sluttily. “All naked on the bed, so each time we're pent up, Utahime can greet us with that tight pussy.”

 

The imagination feels too good that deep down in Utahime's heart; she wishes just that. To be Gojo and Satoru exclusive—wrist tied up over the bed, with both of her legs spread wide. It already makes her brain mushy to think how rough will the twin fuck her if they're just get back from classes, pent up and mad.

 

“Oh- please, please, please.”

 

“Please what?” Gojo grips around her throat. His and Satoru thrust picks up. “Please let me come? Please fuck you? Or please, chain me up so you'll be our plaything?”

 

She nods; to what, maybe to all. But now Utahime is too far up in the cloud nine to realise where her senses actually are. Before her body realises, Utahime moans, squirting juices over both of their cocks with her ears ringing, body trembling, eyes closing.

 

“Fuck- fuck.” It was Gojo? Satoru? She couldn't pinpoint who it was before she felt her inside fill and fill with their ropes of come. Thick releases map  every curve of her walls, it could be inside of her womb for all she cares; and her body was too high to think about anything but the feeling of Satoru and Gojo coming fills her inside to their desire.

 

Utahime slumps forward, tired pulling her by a leash around her neck before sensitivity dragging her eyes open.

 

“Shh.” Satoru kissed the side of her cheek. “I'm pulling out, kay?”

 

If her mouth is working, Utahime knows she'll beg for both of their dicks to stay inside.

 

“You're doing good, baby.” Gojo kisses her forehead. “So good for us. Our best girl, yeah?”

 

The compliment feels like a blanket after a cold storm. It was like a shift of atmosphere, how both Satoru and Gojo pull out to clean her up, all while rearranging Utahime on the bed while she didn't even need to lift a single finger. 

 

Utahime's chest was on the bed when she felt warm clothes wiping the mess between her thighs. When she blinks her eyes open from the sleep she didn't know she was falling too, Utahime notices it was Gojo; hair wet, he wears a pair of loose black shirt and sweatpants, as he cleans her with the clothes.

 

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Gojo kisses the bare of her shoulder. “I was thinking of taking you for a bath, but then you dozed off.”

 

The sense of the current reality makes Utahime body taut, cheeks flushed. It had ended. Their clouds of temptations, and she wasn't supposed to be here anymore. She was supposed to leave right away, even when Utahime felt her heart grow heavy at the thought.

 

“There.” Gojo kisses her bare ass. “All clean and done.”

 

“I should leave.” Utahime blabber, pulling the white clean comforter to cover her nakedness. “It's- yeah, I should leave.”

 

Gojo's gaze narrows. “Why? You can stay the night, you know.”

 

The night— God, she was so stupid!

 

Utahime shouldn't feel anything for the twins, not when they had make their decision clear—that they wanted to fuck her and that's it. But the notice was so blurry that her mind refused to read and understand. During it all, Utahime always feels her heart thump weirdly whenever she talks to them, close to them. She never knew what it was, not until Satoru shares about his perks in reading. Not until she knew beneath Gojo playboy attire, he was just a boy who's giggling over cute romance books.

 

It was such a sweet contrast, and her heart choose to went and like them instead of it just a quick fuck like the twins had wanted.

 

“I-” her throat parched. “I'll just take my clothes and-”

 

“No.” It was Satoru. He was fully clothed now, glass still on his nose as if he can't see without it. “You'll stay and you'll keep on staying.”

 

Confusion laces her brows. “What do you mean?”

 

Satoru's eyes meet Gojo who was sitting on the bed. They exchange a silent gesture, something that Utahime can't figure out what it means. It's not before the man in glasses joins the bed, he didn't say much yet, just close,close enough that Utahime can smell the contrast scents of husky cologne on his skin, while Gojo scent was all minty and bergamot.

 

“We want you.” Gojo says. His palm was rough on her cheek, making her heart race. “Not like- like in a fuck buddies way.”

 

“You both… want me?”

 

“Yeah.” Satoru agrees. “We had been since, you know, at the party.”

 

Utahime cheeks flushes. “Oh.”

 

“Unless if you don't then-” Gojo rambles—Utahime reaches to kiss him on the lips, shutting him in instantly. 

 

Her heart refuses to beat normally, it chases over something that she didn't know what it was before. Maybe for some people, its too instant, after all, they fucked twice and now they jump into a relationship. 

 

But what Utahime also knows is that love comes when you least expect it. It could take days, months, or years, but it can also take only two encounters to make you realise that they're the one. 

 

And for Utahime, it's what she felt.

 

When Satoru leans to wipe her lower lips off his brother's saliva before he kisses her, Utahime feels the high that she's chasing found its name.

 

It's them. That is what her heart craves.

 

And when she giggles between the kisses, Satoru chuckles at his brother's pout of lips.

 

It's still them, both Satoru and Utahime rambling about Gojo's lack of attention while cooking them breakfast on one morning. 

 

It's still them, when Gojo carries Utahime in his arms with Utahime graduation paper in hands, while Satoru laughs, taking her bags and books in one hand.

 

It's still them, when a white wedding gown and two suits hang side by side inside of a large brown cabinet. 

 

And it will always be them; the love that Utahime least expected.

Notes:

PHEWWWWWWW I AM SWEATING BUCKETS