Poorly Drawn Comic

Poorly drawn comic

like it part iii.

megumi fushiguro x reader, college au

your dorm was quiet, save for the low hum of R&B drifting from your laptop speakers—soft, slow, the kind of music that filled the silence without crowding it. the only light came from the gentle glow of your desk lamp and the faint, silvery spill of streetlight seeping through the blinds. the air carried a hint of vanilla, subtle and sweet, mixed with something warmer—something unmistakably you.

megumi sat cross-legged on your bed, textbook balanced on his thigh, trying to focus on the words in front of him. you were beside him, lying on your stomach, feet swaying lazily behind you as you flipped through your notes.

on the surface, it looked like you were studying. technically, you were. there were highlighters. post-its. a psych quiz in the near future.

but the real test?

keeping his eyes on the page and not on the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder when you shifted. or the way you chewed on your pen cap when you were concentrating. or the occasional brush of your hand against his that sent lightning up his spine.

he’d been in your room for maybe fifteen minutes, and already his nerves were coiling tighter by the second. not because you were doing anything wrong—you were relaxed, casual, completely at ease. like this was just another night. like this was normal.

but nothing about this felt normal to him.

your presence was a constant pull—your soft laughter when you mispronounced a vocab term, the way your leg brushed his now and then, deliberate or not. and the scent of you, clinging to the sheets and the air, was making it hard to breathe.

“so, this part of the chapter is about electromagnetic induction,” megumi said, tapping the page with his pen like it could ground him. like it could calm his racing heart. “super easy.”

shifting into a sitting position beside him, your lips tugged into a smirk. “says the walking textbook.”

he gave a small shrug. “it’s not that hard once you break it down. faraday’s law—basically, a change in magnetic field causes a current.”

he pointed to the vocab word in the textbook lying open in front of you, trying to keep his voice steady. but when he glanced over to see if you were following along, his breath hitched.

you weren’t looking at the book. you were looking at him.

your lips slightly parted, eyes fixed on his face with a softness that made his chest tighten. it wasn’t just curiosity—it was focus, interest, intention.

megumi immediately looked away, the tips of his ears turning red.

you looked too damn enticing.

the way your eyes lingered on him like he was the most interesting thing in the room, it was enough to short-circuit his brain. he could talk all day about physics, about laws and fields and forces, but right now, the only current he could feel was the one sparking between the two of you.

and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

he tried to focus—really, he did. cleared his throat, forced his eyes back to the page, even muttered something under his breath about “lenz’s law”—but the words blurred.

“megumi,” you said, voice soft, almost coaxing.

he glanced at you again, hesitantly this time—and you were still watching him. like you knew. like you’d caught on to every subtle flick of his gaze, every stiff inhale, every time his voice wavered.

“yeah?” he asked, trying—and failing—to sound casual.

you tilted your head, eyes flicking from his lips back to his eyes. “you’re kinda bad at pretending you’re okay.”

he let out a breath of a laugh, low and tight. “am I that obvious?”

you smiled, scooting just a little closer. “a little.”

silence settled between you for a moment—thick and charged. his fingers twitched beside yours, aching to close the distance. and when your leg pressed more firmly against his, megumi finally looked up to look at you.

really look at you.

“look, I don’t know what this is,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “but I don’t want to mess it up.”

your gaze fell to his lips.

“you won’t,” you mumbled as you leaned in and connected your lips to his.

and it was like everything in the room faded—the hum of the music, the open textbook, the faint city sounds drifting in through the window. all of it blurred at the edges, swallowed by the feeling of you. the warmth of your mouth, the way your fingers curled gently around his wrist, grounding him.

he kissed you back slowly, almost reverently, like he was still trying to convince himself this was real. that you wanted this. that you wanted him.

and you did.

he could feel it in the way your body leaned into his, in the way you deepened the kiss, like you couldn’t help it. like you’d been waiting, too.

you gently pushed the textbook off the bed, letting it thud softly onto the floor, then shifted forward—slow and deliberate—as you crawled into his lap, straddling him.

megumi’s hands instinctively found your hips, his grip tightening as you settled onto him. his breath hitched—sharp and audible—like your weight alone was enough to unravel him.

your own hands slid up his chest, fingers bunching slightly in the fabric of his hoodie as you pulled him closer.

and he kissed you back like he’d been starving for it, like he finally let go of whatever was holding him back. his hands roamed up your sides, feeling the warmth of you through your clothes, anchoring himself in the rhythm of your body moving against his.

when your hips shifted just slightly, a quiet groan rumbled from his throat, his forehead dropping to yours as he tried to catch his breath.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he murmured, voice low, strained, completely wrecked.

you smiled against his lips. “that’s not the plan.”

but the way you rolled your hips again, slow and purposeful?

it sure felt like one.

your name left his lips in a whine, soft and desperate—his voice cracking under the weight of it.

his hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging in as if he could anchor you in place, stop you from driving him any closer to the edge. but even as he tried to still your movements, his body betrayed him—hips twitching upward, chasing the friction you were giving him.

“please,” he breathed, forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut tight. “if you keep doing that —”

he didn’t finish the sentence. couldn’t let you find out how pathetically close he was to busting in his pants. just from dry humping you.

then, as if the universe had decided to show him mercy, you slid off his lap.

he exhaled sharply, body still trembling, grateful for the space—for the moment to collect himself.

but that relief was short-lived.

because you didn’t move away.

you kept sliding—down, between his legs. your hands running lightly along his thighs as you settled on your knees in front of him. and the moment your eyes lifted to meet his, wide and purposeful and so damn sure, his jaw fell open.

“wait—what are you…?” his voice came out strangled, barely a whisper.

but he already knew what you were doing.

and the realization alone nearly undid him all over again.

your fingers toyed with the hem of his hoodie, dragging it up just enough to expose the band of his sweats. megumi’s breath hitched, his entire body going still—like if he moved, he might shatter.

he stared down at you, wide-eyed, lips parted, completely speechless as your hands slipped beneath the fabric. the heat of your touch against his skin made his stomach tense, made his thighs twitch under your grip.

“y-you sure?” he breathed, though the words barely held weight—his voice weak, shaking, like he already knew he wouldn’t stop you if you kept going.

you looked up at him, a gentle smile tugging at your lips, and gave a quiet nod. then, leaning in, you kissed him once more—slow and lingering—before trailing lower, your mouth brushing against the sharp line of his hip.

megumi’s head fell back with a low groan, one hand flying up to grip the edge of your comforter, the other carding through your hair.

he was screwed. completely, totally, hopelessly screwed.

and god, he never wanted anything more.

your kisses trailed lower, slow and deliberate, like you were savoring every inch of him—every twitch of muscle, every shaky breath. megumi’s hands fisted the comforter tighter, knuckles white, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven rhythm.

when your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his sweats, his hips jolted slightly—his breath caught in his throat.

“shit,” he whispered, voice raw, eyes squeezing shut. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you only smiled, dragging the fabric down just enough to free him—his breath catching in a strangled gasp as cool air hit overly sensitive skin.

he looked down at you again, eyes dark and full of disbelief, desire, and something softer—like awe. like he couldn’t believe you were real.

and then your mouth was on him.

the first touch of your lips made his whole body tense, a guttural moan ripping from deep in his chest. his hand flew to your shoulder, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

“f-fuck, please—” he stammered, the sound of your name barely making it out of his mouth.

it was too much. too good. too you.

and he knew, without a doubt, he wasn’t going to last.

the way your lips wrapped around him slowly, deliberately, like you had all the time in the world—made megumi feel like his sanity might start to slip.

his thighs tensed beneath you, breath staggering as he tried to hold on to something, anything. but your mouth was warm and wet and perfect, and every flick of your tongue, every slow pull, dragged a sound from him he didn’t even know he could make.

he looked down at you through hooded eyes, completely undone by the sight—your lashes lowered, cheeks hollowing just slightly, your hands steady on his hips as you took him deeper. you looked so focused, so intent on him, like you wanted to memorize every reaction, every shiver, every curse that tumbled from his lips.

“god,” he breathed, voice wrecked. “you—fuck, you feel so good.”

he tried to hold back. tried not to fall apart too fast, but the pressure was unbearable, his muscles straining as pleasure twisted tight in his core.

your name left his lips again, barely more than a whisper.

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned, voice breaking.

but even as he said it, his hips bucked once, shallow and shaky, and his other hand slid from the bed to your hair, not to guide—just to feel. to anchor himself in the reality of you.

because if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

but with both hands in your hair now, you took that as a sign he wanted control. so you gave it to him. peering up into his eyes, you let your hands fall behind your back.

he didn’t know how to react at first, but his body took over. his hips rolled forward in slow, tentative thrusts, careful, almost shy. not wanting to hurt you.

then you let out a muffled moan—and he broke.

a curse slipped past his lips as his grip in your hair tightened. his pace shifted, thrusts deeper, more desperate, using your mouth to chase his own pleasure.

megumi was unraveling.

his head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to hold on for just another second, another breath—but you made it impossible. every swirl of your tongue, every soft sound you made around him, pushed him further, faster, to the edge.

“shit, I’m gonna—” he gasped, body tensing beneath your touch, but it was too late.

his hips stuttered, a broken moan catching in his throat as he came, full and hard, his entire body locking up beneath you.

the pleasure hit him like a wave—sharp, dizzying, too much and not enough all at once. his chest heaved, heart racing as his hand slid from your hair to his side, suddenly too weak to hold onto anything at all.

you slowed, gentle now, letting him ride it out until his body relaxed completely, slumping back against the side of the bed like every bone in him had melted.

he looked down at you, eyes hazy but full of adoration. for you.

“…c’mere,” he murmured, voice rough, still breathless.

he caught your wrist gently and tugged you toward him, guiding you both from the floor onto the bed and pulling you into his lap. his arms wrapped around your waist as you settled over him.

that look came over him again—that soft, stunned expression like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. like he didn’t know what he did to deserve this moment, to deserve you.

“what did I say about staring?” you huffed.

a sheepish grin tugged at his lips, but his eyes never left yours. “can’t help it,” he murmured, voice low and honest. “you’re breathtaking.”

your breath hitched, the sincerity in his gaze making your heart stutter. so instead of answering, you leaned forward and kissed him—slow and sweet. his hands gripped your waist a little tighter, anchoring himself to you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

when you pulled back just enough to speak, your noses still brushed. “you’re such a sap.”

“only for you.”

and when he kissed you again, it was deeper. warmer. like a promise—one he didn’t know how to say yet, but was desperate to show.

his hands slid from your waist to your ass, gripping tight as he began to move you against him—slow, deliberate, chasing friction that quickly turned into frustration.

because nothing was happening.

he stilled, breath catching in his throat. shit.

too sensitive. too spent. his body was still reeling from earlier, and no matter how much he wanted you—and he wanted you, badly—his dick wasn’t cooperating.

panic flickered behind his eyes, but he masked it quickly, shifting gears before the moment could break. because even if he couldn’t fuck you properly, he was still going to give you everything.

“lay down,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, commanding.

your breath hitched, a bright flush blooming across your cheeks. “I — look, I…”

you stumbled over the words, lips parted, eyes now avoiding his.

the sudden shift in your energy caught him off guard, and he stilled immediately. his hands loosened their grip as he searched your face, but the way your eyes darted away from his made it hard to read you.

so gently, he raised a hand to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your face toward his—giving you no choice but to meet his gaze.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, voice soft but steady, concern laced through every word.

you hesitated, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “I don’t know,” you said quietly. “I just—I—you make me feel really good, megumi. and I guess… I can’t help but feel like I don’t make you feel the same. kind of feel like I’m not good enough, not gonna lie.”

he stared at you, stunned—jaw slack, breath caught in his throat.

what?

the words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the wind right out of him. you—you—thought you weren’t good enough?

before he could protest, you continued.

“I just — I was so drunk last time and I feel like I made such an idiot of myself - “

“are you serious?” he finally breathed, eyes wide with disbelief. “you have no idea what you do to me.” he shook his head, still reeling. “you’re everything.”

a blush bloomed across your cheeks as you dropped your gaze, quickly hiding your face in your hands.

megumi didn’t let you stay hidden for long though.

he reached for you, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists and peeling your hands away from your eyes. his touch was soft, patient, like he was handling something fragile.

“last time was perfect,” he murmured, voice low and full of conviction. “you were perfect.”

your eyes met his again, wide and unsure, but the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made something inside you unravel.

your lips connected to his. there was no urgency, no expectation. just warmth, steady and consuming, the kind that wrapped around your ribs and settled deep in your chest.

when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his thumbs brushed along your cheeks. “tell me what you need,” he whispered.

your breath hitched, and your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I need you.”

a wave of emotion passed over him—sharp and sudden, like it caught him off guard.

it wasn’t lust, not entirely. it was deeper. he felt it in his chest, in the tightness in his throat, in the way his grip on you softened like he was holding something precious. because he was.

you needed him.

not just his touch. Him.

he guided you back gently, laying you down against the pillows, his body following yours, settling beside you rather than over you—no pressure, no weight, just presence. his hand traced soft lines along your stomach while his mouth explored yours. learning you all over again.

you exhaled, a sound that was part relief, part want.

he dipped his head to your neck, pressing slow kisses there, savoring every reaction he pulled from you. every sigh, every quiet inhale, every push, every pull.

megumi’s lips ghosted over yours again, slower this time—less about hunger, more about connection. his hands moved with the same careful intent, gliding over your sides, your waist, learning every curve like he was mapping sacred ground.

your body reacted to him like it had been waiting—arching into every touch, chasing his warmth, clinging to the steadiness of him. and he gave it all freely. not just his body, but every unspoken word, every ounce of tenderness he’d never known how to express until now.

he kissed your shoulder, then your collarbone, dragging his mouth lower with reverence. when his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your sweats, he paused, eyes flicking up to yours, silently asking.

you nodded, breath trembling.

then his hand slid between your thighs—slow, deliberate—like he was savoring the moment as much as you were. his fingers moved over the thin fabric of your underwear, gentle at first, just enough to tease, to coax a soft sound from your lips.

megumi watched you closely, eyes fixed on your face, soaking in every shift of your expression. the way your brows pinched. the way your lips parted. the way your hips arched ever so slightly into his hand.

“shit, baby, you’re so wet,” he murmured, awe laced into every word. “just for me?”

you nodded, unable to find your voice through the heat blooming in your chest, your stomach, your core.

his fingers slid beneath the fabric, brushing against your warmth—bare and slick and ready. you gasped, and his name spilled from your mouth like instinct.

he groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as he kissed your chest, your sternum, the space between your ribs—every inch.

and then he started moving his fingers.

curling them upward into you.

your body reacted before you could even think—hips rolling into his touch, breath coming faster, hands fisting in the sheets.

“so pretty,” he whispered, mouth grazing your skin.

and with the way he touched you—how patient, how sure, how devoted he felt—you knew you weren’t going to last long.

each stroke of his fingers was measured, purposeful—like he was learning you second by second, and loving every moment of it.

your head fell back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as his thumb found your clit, circling slow and steady. he watched you like he was mesmerized, every twitch of your body, every rise and fall of your chest.

“that’s it,” he murmured, kissing the edge of your jaw.

the pressure built with every breath, every whispered word, every flick of his fingers. your thighs began to tremble, your hips losing rhythm as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

“megumi—” you gasped, voice breaking.

“i got you, baby,” he replied, firm and quiet.

and you came—hard, breath catching in your throat, back arching as everything else faded away. all that remained was him—his name on your lips, his hands on your skin, his eyes staring at you in awe.

you clung to him through it, fingers digging into his shoulder as wave after wave crashed through you—hot and overwhelming and impossibly good. your breath came in shaky gasps, your whole body trembling beneath his touch.

megumi held you through it all, never letting go. his hand slowed, gentled his movements as you started to come down, his mouth brushing soft kisses along your cheek, your jaw, your temple.

but just as your heartbeat started to steady, he moved again—his fingers plunging back inside you, slow and purposeful. your breath hitched violently, stolen right from your lungs as your body seized all over again.

your hips jolted, a sharp gasp escaping you as your body, still sensitive and undone, tried to process the onslaught of sensation.

“megumi—” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, laced with both need and disbelief.

he didn’t stop. his eyes never left yours, dark and focused, like he was memorizing every flicker of pleasure that crossed your face. “one more,” he murmured, voice low and rough at the edges.

the way he touched you now—slower, deeper—had your legs shaking. you could barely think, couldn’t do anything but feel. the pressure was building all over again, even stronger this time, stoked by the way his thumb pressed against your clit in lazy, perfect circles.

your head fell back against the pillows, a broken moan slipping from your lips.

“so pretty, baby,” megumi breathed, the words slipping out before he could stop them—raw, reverent. and the way your body responded, clenching tight around his fingers, grinding down against his palm—it drove him wild.

“you need more?” he murmured, voice thick with need.

you nodded, fast, desperate—your eyes glassy, lips parted, completely undone beneath him.

“what do you need?” he asked, quieter this time. his fingers maintaining their pace.

your hand rose to his face, trembling fingers brushing along his jaw before trailing to his lips. you didn’t speak—but you didn’t need to. the look in your eyes, the soft stroke of your fingers, told him everything.

a slow smirk curled on his mouth. he knew exactly what you were asking for.

and he didn’t make you wait.

he pulled his fingers from you with a deliberate slowness, the wet sound making your breath hitch. then he was shifting downward, settling between your thighs like he belonged there. his hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he kissed the inside of your thigh—then the other. each press of his lips was maddeningly slow, worshipful.

when his mouth finally found you, your whole body jolted.

a cry tore from your throat as his tongue slid through your folds, soft at first, then firmer, more focused. he groaned against you, like the taste alone was enough to ruin him. his hands pinned your thighs apart, keeping you open for him as he lost himself in you—devouring you with slow, devastating precision.

“megumi,” you gasped, hands flying to his hair, anchoring yourself to him.

he didn’t answer—not with words. just with the roll of his tongue, the way he sucked and licked until your legs were shaking again, until your cries turned into pleas, until you were right on the edge. until your grip in his hair tightened, fingers trembling as another wave built deep in your core—hotter, higher, impossibly intense.

and he still didn’t let up, tongue moving in steady, precise circles, as if he wanted to unravel every last piece of you.

“please,” you whimpered, the word barely audible between your gasps. it wasn’t even clear what you were begging for—release, relief, more of him. all of him.

megumi groaned against you, the vibration shooting straight through your body. one hand slid up, splaying across your stomach, grounding you as your hips bucked beneath his touch.

“you gonna come, pretty girl?” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and hoarse.

you nodded frantically, unable to speak, every part of you strung tight.

and then he pushed two fingers back inside you—deep and slow—curling them just right while his tongue focused on your clit, relentless and perfect. your back arched off the bed, a cry ripping from your throat.

that was it.

you broke with a sob, coming hard against his mouth, your whole body trembling as the pleasure crashed through you—white-hot and endless. megumi held you through every second, never backing down, mouth and fingers working you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body.

by the time he finally pulled back, your chest was heaving, your limbs weak and boneless, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

he crawled back up your body, eyes on your face now, pupils blown and mouth glistening with you.

“you with me?” he asked softly, fingers brushing your damp hair back from your face.

you gave the faintest nod, still breathless, lips parted as you struggled to steady your heartbeat. your body felt weightless, like you’d drifted somewhere far away and were only just beginning to return.

megumi didn’t expect it when, with a burst of fading strength, you tugged him down into the pillows with you. he followed easily, letting himself be pulled into your warmth, settling beside you as if this was where he belonged.

you draped a leg over his waist, your bare skin brushing his, and his hands instinctively found your body again—one arm wrapping around your waist, the other splaying over the curve of your lower back, pulling you flush against him.

the low hum of the music wrapped around you both like a second blanket, soft and slow, matching the rhythm of your breathing as it calmed. megumi’s fingers traced idle circles on your lower back, his touch gentle now—so different from before, like he was memorizing the shape of you in silence.

your hands threaded through his hair, playing absentmindedly with the strands, tugging just enough to make him hum in response. his eyes were half-lidded, drowsy but locked on you, drinking you in like he still couldn’t quite believe you were real. that this moment was real.

“nice playlist,” he murmured, his voice raspy, content.

you smiled lazily. “made it for you.”

that turned his cheeks pink. “careful,” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours. “you keep doing things like that and I’ll start thinking I matter to you.”

your breath hitched—not because of what he said, but because of the way he said it. light, teasing. but there was a weight behind it, a question tucked between the syllables.

you pulled back just enough to look at him, your thumb stroking across his cheekbone.

“you do,” you said, simply.

he stilled beneath you.

his jaw flexed, like he was trying to hold something back—an emotion too heavy to name. his hand at your back tightened, just slightly, anchoring himself to you like he needed the contact to believe you.

“yea?” he murmured.

“mhm,” was your simple reply. simple, but held weight.

simple, but it was everything. it sank into him, filled all the hollow spaces he’d tried so hard to ignore. made him feel like he could finally exhale.

“never thought i’d get to have this,” he admitted, eyes dropping to your lips. “you.”

your heart thudded against your ribs, aching at the vulnerability in his voice. you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “well you do. you have me.”

he kissed you then—slow and deep, full of everything he hadn’t said out loud.

when he finally pulled away, it wasn’t by much. he just held you there, breathing you in like he could tether himself to you that way.

then he shifted slightly, tucking you closer against his chest. his arms wrapped around you tighter, strong and sure, his hand sliding up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. you could feel his heart beating beneath your ear, steady and reassuring, lulling you deeper into the warmth of him.

and he stayed like that, rubbing gentle circles against your spine, even as your breathing grew heavier, slower.

even as your body melted completely into his.

even as sleep finally pulled you under—safe, protected, and loved, right there in his arms.

“dude. you’re glowing.”

megumi didn’t look up from his coffee.

yuji leaned across the table, eyes narrowed, arms braced like he was preparing for interrogation.

nobara sat beside him, picking at her croissant with barely contained glee. “he came in wearing the same clothes from yesterday. and he’s in a good mood. that never happens. like—ever.”

“I’m always in a good mood,” megumi said flatly, sipping from his mug.

“you’re usually in a tolerable mood,” nobara corrected. “but today? you smiled at the barista. smiled, megumi.”

the raven haired boy rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite suppress the upward twitch of his lips. “you two are being way too extra about this.”

yuji let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “so something did happen!”

megumi sighed and leaned back in his chair, letting the coffee cup rest between his hands. his gaze flicked toward the window—calm, unreadable. “nothing you need to know about.”

nobara raised a brow. “that’s not a no.”

“it’s also not a yes.”

yuji thumped his fist lightly on the table. “c’mon, bro, just spill. you finally get with her and now you don’t have anything to say?”

megumi gave him a look that could have frozen lava.

“okay, backing off.” yuji raised both hands in surrender but couldn’t hide his grin.

nobora leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “you know we’re just happy for you, right?”

megumi’s expression softened—barely. “I know.”

“then why not tell us?” yuji butted in.

megumi’s gaze dropped to the table.

because it’s mine. and i’m not ready to share it yet.

as if nobara read what he was thinking, she told yuji to back off.

and he listened. didn’t push after that.

eventually, the pink haired boy launched into a story about a broken vending machine near the auditorium that stole his last $5, and nobara explained how she was going to murder her econ professor. but megumi sat quietly, the edge of a smile still lingering on his face.

a certain memory from last night flickered in his mind—your hands in his hair, your breath against his skin, the way you’d whispered that he had you.

yea. he wasn’t ready to share that yet.

195 notes View Post

albeitz

1 month ago

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ you’re both breathing too hard already—and megumi hasn’t even taken off your panties yet.

the dorm is small. quiet. too quiet. just the hum of the ceiling fan overhead, the faint chirp of crickets outside, and somewhere across the wall, the unmistakable muffled laugh of yuji watching something dumb on his laptop. one thin wall away.

and still—megumi’s fingers are trembling as they trail up your thigh. his breath is shaky, warm against your neck. his voice barely a whisper.

“…you sure?”

you nod. you’ve nodded five times already, but it doesn’t stop the way his eyes flick up, searching your face like you might shatter under him. his hair falls across his forehead in soft, messy strands. his cheeks are pink. he’s trying to keep calm—cool, collected—but his cock has been twitching in his briefs since you kissed him like you meant it.

you hook your arms around his neck, your voice barely audible. “yes, ‘gumi. i want you. please.”

his name from your mouth makes his whole body twitch. like something snaps inside him.

he kisses you again—harder this time. tongue deep, needy. hands sliding up your bare thighs, dragging your sleep shirt up over your hips. he groans into your mouth when he sees what’s underneath: just the sheer lace of panties that barely cover anything.

“fuck,” he hisses. “you came here like this?”

you smirk, flushed and breathless. “i thought maybe you’d get the hint.”

he growls low, a sound you feel in your belly.

and then he’s pulling them down, his knuckles brushing your soaked folds. you flinch at the cold air, thighs clenching, and megumi pulls back just enough to stare—really stare.

“jesus,” he mutters, dark lashes low, eyes fixed on your cunt. “you’re dripping…”

“megumi—”

“you have to be quiet,” he warns, voice low and rough as his fingers slide through the slick between your thighs, stroking your folds slow. testing. teasing. “i mean it. yuji’s right there.”

you bite your lip. “then don’t make me moan.”

he huffs a laugh, smug, and presses a finger into you—slow. you arch, a tiny gasp slipping out before you can stop it. it’s tight. he groans when he feels the way you squeeze around him.

“so fuckin’ tight,” he whispers, kissing your jaw as he pumps gently. “gonna feel like heaven when i’m inside…”

your hips rock forward—needy, desperate—and he pulls his fingers free, watching your slick coat them, shiny in the low dorm light. he licks them clean. you watch. eyes wide.

then—finally—he pulls his cock out.

you gasp.

he’s big. thick. hard, flushed a deep red, the tip already leaking. you feel your stomach flip, a twist of nervous heat and excitement and ache.

“gonna go slow,” he promises, leaning over you, pressing the head to your entrance. “tell me if it’s too much.”

you nod. and then—

push.

he slides in slow, inch by inch. the stretch is real—burning, deep, your body resisting at first. you grip his shoulders, face buried in his neck as he groans—long and guttural—feeling your walls suck him in.

“shit,” he hisses. “you’re—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—so good.”

you’re panting against his throat, biting down a moan when he bottoms out. he doesn’t move yet—just kisses your temple, strokes your waist, lets you adjust while your whole body tries to memorize this feeling.

then—slow thrust.

you whimper, louder than you mean to.

megumi freezes. covers your mouth with his hand immediately, whispering hot against your ear.

“shhh. you have to stay quiet, baby. you don’t want yuji coming over, do you?”

you shake your head, eyes wide, tears pricking from the pressure. from how full you feel.

he starts moving—slow and deep, hips rocking into you gently, his hand still over your mouth to catch every ragged breath. his cock drags against your walls, thick and pulsing, and you can’t help the way your legs wrap around him tighter.

“you feel s-so good,” you whisper against his palm. “so big, megumi—”

he growls. “you’re killing me.”

he fucks you slow, quiet, deliberate. each thrust deeper, more confident. the sound of your bodies joining is filthy—wet, soft slaps as his cock sinks in over and over.

you start to tremble—your orgasm creeping up fast, tight in your belly.

“i—i’m gonna—”

“i know,” he whispers, lifting your leg, angling deeper. “cum for me. but be quiet.”

you bite your fist. your thighs shake. and then you’re cumming—hard, spasming around him, whole body tensed as you fight the scream burning your throat.

he groans—loud—and buries his face in your shoulder as he spills inside you, cock throbbing, cum spilling deep, hot and thick.

he stays there. breathing heavy. still buried deep.

and from across the wall—

“…the fuck was that noise?”

yuji.

you both freeze.

then megumi grins against your skin, cock still twitching inside you.

“…worth it.”

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albeitz

1 year ago

all yaoi has a brokeback mountain au its the man on man archetype