#( like a-- lounging around hoodie )

[korinthiakos]

So it's raining, I'm back in my comfy hoodie-- I feel nice and comfy, especially with these layers so I don't see the bump of my boobs and feel like i have somewhat of a flat chest

[cumironi]

THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo

★ sum. the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brain— sum : a nerd, that’s what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date you— no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet who’s get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.

warning. college au, ōral ( m & f receiving ), fingēring, dirty talk, hair-pulling, bit name-calling, petnames, praise, cherry pop mentioned, unprotected sēx.

the four of them—geto, gojo, toji, and sukuna—sat sprawled out under the big willow tree on campus, a prime spot they’d claimed as their own. the tree’s branches hung low, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and it seemed to be the perfect place for them to lounge around, their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet space. they were the popular boys on campus, infamous for their looks, athleticism, and wealth, and equally notorious for their cocky, careless attitudes—a magnetic combination that somehow made them both admired and hated.

they were deep in some joke, laughing obnoxiously, when toji’s gaze drifted, his laughter fading as his eyes settled on something—or rather, someone—in the distance. his smirk widened as he cocked his chin in your direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“look at her,” toji muttered, loud enough for the others to hear. the way he said it held a certain bite, like he’d just stumbled upon something amusing.

the other three followed his gaze, their eyes landing on you, sitting off to the side with a thick textbook open in your lap. you were tucked into yourself, shoulders hunched slightly, completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. your clothes were baggy, drowning your frame in layers that did little to give away any shape. the oversized hoodie practically swallowed you, sleeves pulled down almost to your fingertips. your glasses kept sliding down your nose, and every now and then, you’d push them back up absently, clearly too lost in your book to notice much else.

“oh, the classic nerd look,” sukuna sneered, his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “cute,” he added mockingly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he found the whole thing entertaining.

gojo let out a low snort, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. he leaned forward, one arm bracing against the grass. his eyes still on you, but there was a mocking amusement dancing in them now. he exhaled slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced over at sukuna, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“what’s this, sukuna? into the nerdy type now?” he taunted, tilting his head as he raised an eyebrow. his tone was layered with mockery, his smirk widening as if the very idea was too ridiculous to believe. “thought you had a thing for a girl with big tits.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver. “naaah, not my type,” he shot back, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he shrugged. “just saying she’s… amusing. probably jumps if someone even looks at her.”

“oh, definitely,” geto chimed in with a chuckle, folding his arms as he looked you over with a lazy curiosity. “bet she’s terrified of guys like us.”

toji laughed, shaking his head as he looked back at the others. “please, she’d probably faint if you even said hi.” they all shared a laugh, a mixture of arrogance and amusement, reveling in the thought. to them, you were just another quiet, unassuming girl in a sea of faces, someone they could easily overlook—or mess with, if the mood struck.

gojo snickered. “hell, she probably doesn’t even know we exist,” he taunted, his smirk growing ever more patronizing as he puffed out another plume of smoke. “probably spends her nights in her room, surrounded by books and stuffed animals. bet she’s never even been to a party.”

geto chuckled, leaning back with a mocking smile. “oh please, she’s probably never even been kissed.”

toji smirked, adding to the barrage of mockery. “god, she’s probably never been touched by a guy either, huh?” he chimed in, his words dripping with lewd undertones. he took another drag of his cigarette, then glanced back at you, eyeing you up and down again, his smirk widening into a leering grin. “bet she’s a complete virgin.”

there was a collective burst of laughter from the three of them, their voices loud and harsh in the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.

sukuna, his smirk still firmly in place, leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed. “yeah, she’s probably saving herself for her dream guy,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “probably wants some perfect fairytale romance. what a joke.”

toji let out a low, dark snicker, his gaze flickering back to you as his smirk widened into something almost predatory. he leaned forward slightly, the cruel glint in his green eyes sharpening as he watched you, completely oblivious to the way they were talking about you.

“oh, please,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. “give me an hour with her, and i’d pop that cherry first,” he said, his scarred lips twisting into a wider smirk, a glimmer of cruelty evident in his gaze.

the other guys laughed again, their voices mingling in the harsh, arrogant way only they could manage. for them, it was a game—a chance to mock and taunt someone so outside their world.

geto snort, “yeah, right.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he took another casual drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at toji’s words. “big talk, man. you are too scary, let me take the ‘pop’,” he said, his voice laced with a mischievousness.

sukuna let out another sharp huff of laughter, his gaze trailing over you disdainfully, his smirk a mix of mockery and condescension. “yeah, good luck with that,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “bet she’d faint if you even came close to her.”

but toji didn’t seem worried, his smirk only growing wider, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he continued watching you, a dark challenge present in his expression.

“oh, i’d get her,” he said, his voice oozing a dangerous sort of confidence. his eyes darkened, his smirk turning almost feral as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers idly.

“she wouldn’t even know what hit her.”

sukuna raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned in, matching toji’s dark energy with a glint of excitement in his own crimson eyes. he crossed his arms, tilting his head with a look that practically dared the others to take him up on his idea.

“let’s make it interesting, boys,” sukuna drawled, his tone laced with twisted amusement. “how about a little wager? who’s gonna get to pop the cherry first?”

the idea hung in the air, laced with a sense of cruel playfulness. the others exchanged looks, smirks widening as they took in the challenge, their gazes flickering back to you as you remained completely unaware, hidden in your book and blissfully out of earshot.

gojo’s smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the idea. he took another puff from his cigarette, eyeing sukuna with amusement, clearly intrigued by the proposal. “a wager?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of curiosity. “what’s the prize?”

geto chuckled, the idea clearly appealing to him as well. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he chimed in. “i’m in,” he said, his smirk mirroring the others.

sukuna shrugged, an amused gleam flashing through his crimson eyes as he glanced over at you, still utterly engrossed in your book and completely unaware of the bet unfolding among the boys. his smirk deepened as he looked back at the others, his tone casual yet laced with dark amusement.

“anything you want,” he replied smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. he paused, his gaze flickering back to you for a brief moment before adding, “but there’s one condition—whoever wins has to take a photo as proof.”

the challenge hung heavy in the air, each of them exchanging glances, their smirks widening in unison. the thought of the twisted little game gave them all a sense of cruel excitement, feeding their arrogant thrill as they eyed you once more, already imagining how they’d play this out.

gojo let out a low snort, his smirk growing into a smirk of his own. he took another draw on his cigarette before tilting his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of agreement. “deal.” he said, his tone laced with a hint of determination.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to you once more before he nodded his agreement. “i’m in,” he added, his smirk mirrorring the others, clearly liking the idea of the bet.

toji chuckled, a cruel gleam appearing in his green eyes as he looked at the others, the idea of the bet stirring something wicked inside of him. he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he nodded. “i’m in,” he echoed, his voice lower than before, filled with an almost excited tension.

it had been a strange week, to say the least. the four most popular boys on campus—geto, sukuna, toji, and especially gojo—had suddenly taken an interest in you, a stark contrast to the way they’d mostly ignored you before. they’d pop up in places they normally wouldn’t be, go out of their way to hold doors open or throw you playful smiles, and act… almost charming. but you weren’t buying it, especially not gojo’s relentless attempts to convince you to tutor him. every time he begged for your help, you’d shut him down without a second thought.

today was no different. you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, lost in your studies, when you heard the sound of a chair being pulled out beside you. you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. with a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and refocused on your notes, determined to ignore him.

“oh, come on,” gojo drawled, leaning in close with a pout as he rested his elbows on the table, clearly unfazed by your cold response. “i really need help, you know. i’m hopeless without you.” his tone was dripping with exaggerated desperation, but there was a playful glint in his eyes as he watched for any reaction.

you kept your gaze fixed on your book, trying to block him out. “then maybe you should try actually paying attention in class,” you muttered, flipping a page, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone.

but gojo just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost persuasive tone. “come on, i’ll owe you one. just one study session. i’ll even buy you coffee,” he offered, flashing you his signature charming smile, like he thought that was all it would take to wear you down.

“not interested,” you replied flatly, turning another page without looking up. you could feel his gaze on you, persistent as ever, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. he leaned even closer, his lips almost at your ear, as if daring you to ignore him. “come on, please?” he begged again, his tone dripping with fake desperation, his voice low and tantalizingly close. “just one little tutoring session. i’ll do anything.”

you froze, your pen pausing mid-word as the warmth of gojo’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers grazing just under the hem of your skirt. his touch was light, teasing, and you could feel your heart race at the audacity of his move. irritation flared within you, but when you turned to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind, you were met with that damn smirk of his—a look of pure, unbothered confidence.

his face was so close that you could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “please?”

his voice was soft, almost seductive, and despite the irritation simmering beneath your calm facade, you could see the glint of amusement in his narrowed blue eyes, fully aware of the effect he was trying to have on you. your eyes narrowed, meeting his challenge, and you gave him a cold, leveled stare, unfazed by his proximity.

you lifted a brow, voice cool as ice. “is this your idea of begging, gojo?”

his smirk didn’t waver; if anything, it grew wider, clearly thrilled by your reaction. “i can be very persuasive,” he murmured, letting his fingers ghost over your thigh, just enough to keep your attention.

he leaned in even closer, his smirk widening further. his lips grazed your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and smooth, like silk. “and i can be very convincing,” he whispered, his hand sliding further up your thigh, leaving a trail of heated tingles in its wake.

you inhaled sharply, his breath hot against your skin as his words lingered in your ear, and you could feel your resolve slipping, his touch relentless and daring as his hand slid further up your thigh. the warmth of his fingers, the confidence in his voice—it was infuriatingly hard to ignore, and you could tell he knew it, that smirk of his only growing as he watched your reaction.

you turned to him, catching his gaze, meeting his smug look with one of quiet defiance. the words were barely a whisper as you muttered, “fine.”

his eyes lit up, triumphant, as if he’d known all along you’d give in, but you held his gaze steadily, a hint of warning still lingering there. “just one session,” you clarified, your voice firm, trying to reassert control even as you felt a flicker of warmth in your cheeks.

gojo’s smirk deepened, seemingly satisfied with your response. his hand paused, still resting on your thigh, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin, sending chills through your body.

“just one, huh?” he echoed, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, his lips practically grazing your skin as he spoke again. “don’t worry, i’ll make it count.”

he paused, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your thigh, the gesture almost innocent, yet the meaning behind it clear. he looked at you, his gaze almost challenging, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed your slight shiver at his touch. he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“my place or yours?” he purred, his tone dripping with suggestion, his hand gradually making its way higher up your leg.

and that’s where you are . . .

gojo smirks down at you, his eyes roaming over your nerdy appearance hungrily, knees on the floor inside his dorm room. “thanks for coming to tutor me today. i really appreciate it,” his voice drips with false sincerity as he palms himself through his jeans.

“i’ve been struggling with this subject and i’ve heard you’re the best at explaining things.” gojo leans back on his hands, spreading his legs wider to give you an even better view of the bulge straining against his zipper. “why don’t you come closer and we can start going over the material? i’m all yours, baby.” his thumb pinch your chin, the soft pad of his finger trailing off your skin before slipping past your swollen lips into your mouth.

he chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm. “aww, what’s wrong? you look nervous. there’s no need to be shy around me.”

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in my chest as you kneel before gojo, feeling small and insignificant compared to his tall, muscular frame. your glasses slip down your nose slightly as you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“oh, um, t-thank you gojo-kun,” you stammer out, your voice quivering slightly. you shift nervously on your knees, very aware of how vulnerable your position makes you feel. and when gojo’s thumb pushes past your lips, you instinctively close your mouth around it, sucking lightly from habit before realizing what you were doing. a deep blush spreads across your cheeks.

“i’m just a bit overwhelmed, to be honest,” you managed to murmur, voice muffled by his thumb.

gojo’s smirk widens as he feels your warm, wet mouth envelop his thumb. he slowly pumps the digit in and out, mimicking a lewd act. “mmm, don’t be like that, cutie. i promise i won’t bite... much.” he winks salaciously.

his free hand reaches out to cup your burning cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the delicate skin. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered like this. it’s adorable how innocent you are.” gojo leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils.

“tell you what, why don’t you put that clever tongue of yours to good use and help me relax a bit before we dive into studying?” his thumb presses deeper into your mouth insistently.

you whimper softly as gojo’s thumb invades your mouth more insistently, your tongue automatically swirling around the invading digit. your mind races, trying to process the sudden intimate contact and the heavy implication behind his words.

“i’m not sure if this is appropriate, gojo-kun,” you manage to say around his thumb after pulling back slightly, your voice muffled. “we should focus on the tutoring session...”

despite your weak protests, you can feel your body reacting to gojo’s proximity and touch— a traitorous heat pooling low in your belly, your cunt starting to clenching around nothing in your skirt. you squirm uncomfortably on your knees, hyper-aware of your submissive posture before him.

“what exactly did you have in mind?”

gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at protest. he grips your hair, tugging your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. “oh, i think we both know this is exactly what we came here for, isn’t it?”

his other hand moves to palm his aching erection through his jeans, the thick outline unmistakable. “i had something much more... educational in mind than boring textbooks.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “why don’t you be a good girl and put those pretty lips to work? show me what that smart mouth of yours can do besides spouting facts.” he uses his grip on your hair to guide your face towards his crotch, rubbing your cheek against the prominent bulge.

gojo groans softly as he feels your soft cheek pressed against his throbbing erection. he grinds subtly against you, seeking more friction. “fuuuck, you feel so good already. i bet these nerdy little lips will wrap around my cock perfectly.”

with his other hand, he starts unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room. he pops the button of his jeans and slowly drags down the zipper, letting them gape open to reveal the waistband of his boxers straining over his massive bulge.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” gojo growls possessively. “by the time ’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is choking on my dick.”

the idea was overwhelming— the thought of ruining you and winning the bet performed a cloud in gojo’s head. you gasp sharply as gojo forces your face against his clothed erection, the heat and hardness searing into your cheek. your eyes widen at his crude words, a shiver running down your spine— equal parts fear and reluctant excitement.

“g-gojo-kun, please...” you whimper, your voice high and thready. “we shouldn’t... i-i’ve never...”

despite your halfhearted protests, you find yourself leaning into his touch, nuzzling almost imperceptibly against the thick ridge of his cock. the scent of his arousal is dizzying this close, musk and sweat and pure male essence flooding your senses. trembling fingers come up to tentatively brush against his hipbones as his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness.

gojo smirks cruelly as he hears the tremor in your voice, relishing how easily he can affect you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he croons mockingly.

he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down, freeing his enormous, rock-hard cock. it springs out, slapping against your cheek with a meaty thwack. the thick shaft pulses with need, the flared head an angry purple and leaking copious amounts of precum.

you let out a choked moan as gojo’s huge, throbbing cock slaps against your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. your eyes widen in shock at the sheer size of him, intimidated but undeniably aroused.

“open wide, nerd. i’ve got a big load for you,” gojo taunts crudely. he fists his hand in your hair again, using his grip to angle your face towards his weeping cockhead. “stick out that clever little tongue. i want to see you worship every inch of my big, fat cock like the desperate slut you are.”

“oh god...” you whimper, your tongue darting out to unconsciously lick your lips. the salty-sweet taste of his essence explodes across your taste buds, making your head spin. with trembling hands, you reach up to grasp his muscular thighs for support as he forces your face closer to his imposing manhood. your glasses fog up slightly from your quickened breathing. “i’ve never done this before,” you admit in a tiny, scared voice.

gojo grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic lust as he sees the fear and reluctant desire warring in your expression. “that’s alright, that’s why i’m here, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime to your virgin pussy,” he grunted.

he rubs the swollen head of his cock all over your face, smearing your cheeks and lips with his slick precum. the musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head swim with overwhelming pheromones. “open up, baby, take my cock like a good girl. promise it feels good, do you trust me?” sweet, his honeyed voice suddenly heavy with sweetness.

but despite that, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing the broad tip past your lips and onto your tongue. he groans at the wet heat engulfing him, head just a beat throw back before snapped, eyes lock with your lips taking the half of his cock. “fuck yes, that’s it. wrap those pretty lips around me.”

you let out a muffled yelp as gojo suddenly pushes past your lips, his thick cock stretching your jaw painfully wide you almost sure the edge of your lips stretch open. your eyes water as he hilts himself inside your virgin mouth, the bulbous head hitting the back of your throat. you gag reflexively, throat spasming around his girth.

“mph!” you try to pull back but his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his impressive size. your small hands come up to weakly push at his thighs, overwhelmed by the intrusion.

after a moment, you force yourself to relax your jaw, breathing heavily through your nose. you start to experimentally suckle at the head, your tongue swirling clumsily around it. the taste of his skin and the musky scent flooding your senses is dizzying.

gojo throws his head back with a deep groan as your inexperienced mouth envelops him, your tongue clumsily lapping at his sensitive flesh. the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick cock, tears glistening on your flushed cheeks, is incredibly erotic.

“that’s it, take it deeper,” he growls, fisting his hand tighter in your hair. with a sharp thrust of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt in your convulsing throat. your nose presses against his pelvis as he hilts inside you, cutting off your air supply completely.

“that’s good baby, goood job,” praise after praise fallen from gojo’s pretty, pink lips. he holds you there, savoring the feeling of your constricting esophagus fluttering around his cock. after several long seconds, he finally pulls back, allowing you a gasping breath before plunging in again.

gojo sets a brutal pace, fucking your face with deep, powerful thrusts. each snap of his hips drives his thick cock into your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. drool escapes the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin as he uses your mouth mercilessly.

“you’re doing so well for your first time,” he praises mockingly, voice strained with pleasure. “such an eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you? born to choke on a cock.” he pulls out abruptly, his spit-shined cock bobbing obscenely in front of your face. gojo smacks the heavy shaft against your tear-stained cheeks, smearing them with your own saliva mixed with his precum. “strip,” he commands gruffly, releasing his grip on your hair.

gojo looms over you, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal as he watches you intently. his eyes rake over your disheveled form, drinking in the sight of your reddened cheeks, puffy lips glistening with spit, and the way your glasses sit askew on your face.

“come on, slowpoke. i want to see every inch of the body hiding under those ugly clothes,” he growls impatiently, one hand coming down to roughly palm himself through his open fly. the other reaches out to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging insistently. but, instead of slipping out of your ‘ugly’ clothes, you stand there, eyes widened innocently the way you look up to him.

“don’t make me rip them off. you wouldn’t want me to damage your precious belongings, would ya?“ a wicked smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting with mischief and barely restrained hunger.

you tremble under gojo’s hungry gaze, acutely aware of how debauched you must look— face flushed, glasses fogged, lips swollen and slick with spit. with shaking hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt, fumbling to undo them one by one.

as more of your creamy skin is revealed, gojo’s eyes darken with undisguised lust. he licks his lips, watching avidly as you shrug the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. underneath, you wear a plain white lacy bra, the fabric straining slightly over your bust.

next, you stand on wobbly legs to shimmy out of your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles before stepping out of it. your panties match your bra, simple cotton with lace. “gojo-kun..” you murmur, hands hovering over your bra and panties, hiding yourself.

gojo’s heated gaze roams hungrily over your newly exposed body, lingering on the swell of your breasts straining against the delicate lace of your bra. he steps closer, crowding into your personal space until the hard planes of his body press against your softer curves.

“fuck, you’re even hotter than i imagined,” he rasps, calloused fingers trailing up your sides to cup your tits possessively. never in a million years had he found a loser nerd like you could be this hot, and it seems like his cock agrees with the way it’s twitching. he squeezes the soft mounds, thumbs flicking over your nipples through the thin fabric until they pebble beneath his touch, pushing a breathless gasp out of your throat.

with a wicked grin, gojo reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. cool air hits your bare skin, pebbling your nipples further as they’re bared to his intense scrutiny.

“perfect.”

gojo hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion. the flimsy material catches on your knees briefly before falling to your ankles, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

he takes a step back, drinking in the sight of your naked body with an appreciative hum. his eyes linger on the cute, neat patch of curls crowning your mound, the slight flare of your hips, the gentle swell of your ass. “goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs reverently.

without warning, gojo drops to his knees in front of you, large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your most intimate parts. “i bet this sweet cunt tastes divine,” he growls, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, painfully slow stroke.

you can’t help but let out a startled moan as gojo’s warm tongue drags along your most intimate folds, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. your knees buckle slightly and you have to brace yourself against the wall to keep from collapsing under the intensity of sensation.

“g-gojo-kun!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair as he laps at your slit like a man starved. his tongue delves between your lower lips, seeking out your entrance and circling it teasingly. you squirm against the invasion, thighs trembling with the effort to hold still.

gojo chuckles lowly, the vibrations making you shudder. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. “ah! ahh!”

gojo moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, his tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. he laps at your juices greedily, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room. “mmm, you taste even better than i imagined,” he growls, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “so fucking sweet.”

his hands grip your ass, kneading the supple globes as he eats you out with single-minded focus. he alternates between thrusting his tongue in and out of your clenching hole and flicking the tip rapidly over your throbbing clit. the lewd wet noises echo off the walls, mingling with your needy whimpers and gasps.

“oooh! m-my god!” you writhe helplessly against gojo’s relentless assault, fingers digging into his silver hair as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash over you. your hips undulate shamelessly, grinding your aching core against his face as he devours you like a man possessed.

“that’s it, ride my tongue,” he grunt, the words muffled against your soaked folds. you throw your head back with a keening cry as gojo works you over with his skilled tongue, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, tugging sharply at the silvery strands.

“ah! g-gojo-kun!” you gasp brokenly, toes curling against the cool tile floor. your inner muscles flutter wildly around his invading tongue.

gojo growls into your pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core. he doubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard while simultaneously thrusting two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming channel.

“g-gojo-hng!” you sob brokenly, hips continue to roll shamelessly against his face. you mewl helplessly into the filthy kiss, when gojo’s tongue dominating yours as he claims your mouth thoroughly after he stands abruptly.

you can taste yourself on him, the musky flavor making your head spin with renewed arousal and it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through your veins. his hand slides up to palm your breast roughly, calloused thumb scraping over your sensitive nipple.

when he finally breaks away, you’re left panting and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. gojo grins wolfishly down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “god, so fucking beautiful when i’m ’bout to ruin you,” he promises darkly, voice rough with desire. “by the time i’m done, all you’ll be able to think about is my cock splitting you open."

his hand slides down your body to grip your thigh, hoisting your leg up to wrap around his hip. the new position leaves you feeling deliciously vulnerable, your slick folds rubbing directly against the rigid length of him.

gojo’s heated gaze rakes over your flushed form, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. he licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your essence still coating his tongue. “fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he growls appreciatively, palming himself once again, smearing his precum all over your thigh, the biting lips to stop the moaning betraying his own desperate arousal.

with a few quick movements, gojo shucks off his shirt, revealing the lean lines of his torso. his pale skin is littered nothing but softness. he kicks off his pants next, leaving him fully naked now.

slowly, torturously, gojo sinks into your welcoming heat inch by excruciating inch. gojo grunts as your slick folds slide along his shaft, coating him in your essence. your slick walls stretch deliciously around his girth, molding to every ridge and vein. by the time he’s fully seated, you feel impossibly full, stuffed to the brim with hard, throbbing cock.

“fuuck!” he snarls, eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he holds himself there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “p-pussy sooo-shit! good.” the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating his cock almost making gojo’s feel bad for using you as a bet, but fuckkk! you feel so good.

you let out a strangled moan as gojo hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. your slick walls flutter and clench around his thickness, trying instinctively to accommodate the sudden intrusion. the sensation borders on painful but the dull ache only serves to heighten your pleasure, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

“ah! s-so biiig,” you whimper breathlessly, fingernails raking down gojo’s back. your hips twitch restlessly, torn between the urge to pull away from the intense stretch and the primal need to take him deeper. gojo groans at the feeling of your scorching heat enveloping him so completely. his pelvis presses flush against yours, ensuring that not an inch of space remains between your bodies.

gojo once again, groans deeply as your velvety walls ripple along his length, the exquisite sensations threatening to undo his control. he wants nothing more than to rut into you mindlessly, chasing his own pleasure. but he forces himself to hold still, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“shit baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained with barely restrained lust. “so fucking tight...” he rolls his hips experimentally, pulling out just an inch before sinking back in. the drag of his thick cock against your sensitive nerves makes you both gasp. gojo sets a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as he strokes your inner walls. his hands roam your curves possessively, mapping out the dips and swells of your body.

you arch into gojo’s touch, craving more of his addictive caresses. your nails score down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. the sting only seems to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chases his own pleasure.

“too muuuch,” you cry, tossing your head back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. “hurt, ah! too big.”

gojo snarls, the sound feral and hungry. he leans down to capture one pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. you yelp at the sharp jolt of pain, cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length.

gojo grunts as your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. he knows he should probably slow down, give you time to adjust, but the way you’re writhing beneath him is just too enticing.

“you can take it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust.

once again, gojo snarls against your breast, tongue flicking out to lave over the abused bud. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make it feel real good,” he promises, harmonizing his words with a particularly vicious thrust. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you see stars.

your slick walls spasm wildly around his girth, fluttering and clenching as if trying to push him out even as your body betrays you, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each punishing stroke. the wet slap of flesh echoes obscenely in the room, mingling with your wanton moans and gojo’s animalistic grunts.

gojo lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls ripple around his thickness. “fuck, your pussy is milking my cock so good,” he grunts, hips snapping forward almost violently. one large hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come on, baby. squeeze this cock just like that,” gojo urges gruffly, increasing the pressure on your clit. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up real soon.”

you throw your head back with a guttural moan, fingers tangling in gojo’s hair as he works you closer to the edge. your thighs tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of holding yourself open for his relentless assault. sweat beads along your brow, plastering strands of hair to your face.

“please,” you keen desperately, unsure what exactly you’re begging for anymore. more? less? harder? faster? all you know is that yo’'re teetering right on the precipice, balanced precariously between agony and ecstasy.

gojo grins wickedly, sensing your desperation. he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “that’s it, cum for me baby. gonna pump you so full of my seed, you’ll be dripping for days.”

but before you reach that peak, that climax you desperately need, gojo abruptly stops moving. hands trailing down your tights before throwing your body to his bed. a gasp of surprise tears from your throat, followed by a whimper— a subtle sign of protest.

gojo chuckles darkly, reveling in the delicious sight of you sprawled out before him, flushed and panting. he takes a moment to admire the view— your chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each labored breath, the glistening evidence of your arousal painting your inner thighs.

gojo smirks down at you, taking in your confused expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. he trails a finger down your sternum, circling one dusky nipple teasingly for a second. “what’s wrong, baby?” he coos mockingly. “didn’t get your fix?”

he shifts slightly, the movement causing his half-hard cock to brush against your thigh. you shudder at the contact, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. gojo hums approvingly at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your jaw.

“mmm, look at you,” he purrs approvingly, trailing a finger through your slick folds. “all spread out and ready for me. such a goood girl.” without warning, gojo flips you onto your stomach, hauling your hips up until you’re presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. he runs a proprietary hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing roughly. “this ass though... fuck, i could play with it all day.”

gojo’s eyes rake over your prone form appreciatively, drinking in the delectable sight of you splayed out before him. he takes his time exploring your curves, fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin. when he reaches the swell of your rear, he gives the supple flesh a firm squeeze, kneading the plush globes like dough. this might be the first and the last time he has you in his bed, might make it memorable.

“such a perfect little peach,” he praises huskily, spreading you wide to expose your most intimate parts. cool air wafts over your heated flesh, making you shiver. gojo hums in approval at the sight of your dripping cunt, flushed and swollen with need.

he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “look how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. you let out a soft moan, squirming under gojo’s intense gaze. his rough hands map out every dip and curve of your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. you arch into his caress, silently begging for more.

when he finally reaches your aching core, you buck your hips eagerly, desperate for friction. “please,” you whimper, voice high and needy. “i need—”

gojo cuts off your pleas with a sharp smack to your rear, the stinging impact making you yelp. “ah ah, none of that now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “you don’t get to tell me what you need, understand? it’s an honor y’know, for me to take your virginity, so you don’t get to tell me what you need.”

he punctuates his words with another firm swat, watching with rapt attention as your skin blooms pink under his palm. but even so, gojo couldn’t stop the spinning from his head, the sigh of you, the feel of your cunt tightly grip his needy cock making him all desperate and losing his shit to you, a fucking nerd all out of other girl.

gojo grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your predicament. he traces a finger through your soaked folds, gathering some of your essence on his digit before bringing it to his lips. he makes a show of licking it clean, savoring your unique flavor with a satisfied hum.

“mmm, you taste divine,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “like the finest nectar.”

gojo lines himself up with your entrance once more, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your slick opening. he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your entrance before pulling away again. your walls flutter around nothing, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

“beg for it,” he demands huskily, giving your rear another firm smack. “let me hear how badly you want this cock.“ he grabs your hip, fingers bent to your flesh the way he drags you to the edge of his bed and your feet touching the cold tile.

his one arm sneaking down to your thigh, lifting it off the floor while the other hand relentlessly teases your needy cunt with the swollen tip of his cock— kissing your clit.

you writhe beneath gojo’s ministrations, a litany of needy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. “please,” you beg shamelessly, too far gone to care about dignity. “gojo-kuuunn . . i need you inside me, filling me up. i can’t take it anymore!”

your hips buck frantically, seeking friction against his maddening teasing. you’re so empty, aching to be stretched and filled by his thick length. gojo just chuckles darkly at your desperation, continuing his torturous game. his chest raining with pride and happiness for taking your virginity, him, not another man. him.

“oh? and why should i give you what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance without pushing in. “maybe i like seeing you like this— alllll spread out and begging so pretty for me.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “you taste sweet when you’re desperate like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip. “makes me want to devour you whole.”

he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions. “but since you asked so nicely...” with a slow, deliberate push, he sinks into your heat, groaning at the velvety tightness enveloping his cock.

gojo pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep within you. then, with a gentle roll of his hips, he begins to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. he savors each drag of your slick walls along his shaft, relishing in the exquisite sensation of taking your virginity. his hand leaving another handprint on your ass, digging his dull nail into the skin.

a gasp tears from your throat as gojo finally sheathes himself fully inside you, the stretch both painful and exhilarating. you cling to the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as you acclimate to the foreign intrusion.

but as he starts to move, long, languid strokes that fill you to the brim, you begin to relax into the pleasure. a low moan escapes you, vibrations humming against gojo’s lips before your head falls to his bed. “ahh... yes... just like thaaat...”

your hips start to rock in tandem with his, meeting each thrust with eagerness. the sensations build rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. you can feel every ridge and vein of gojo’s cock as it slides against your inner walls, sending jolts of electric pleasure through you.

“more,” you breathe out, voice ragged with need, causing the man to leave your reddened ass to find your hair and take a fistful of the locks while the other arm tightens around your thigh, making a perfect symphony the way he pounds into you from behind.

gojo’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging roughly at your hair as he pistons into you with reckless abandon. the bed creaks and shifts beneath the force of his thrusts, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your hearts.

gojo growls in approval, the sound muffled against your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his hips snap forward with renewed vigor, driving into you with a primal intensity that steals your breath away. the force of his thrusts sends the headboard thudding against the wall, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your heart.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he uses it to pull your head back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. “i can feel every inch of you milking my cock. this cunt feels like heaven, fuuuck.”

gojo’s words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, the obscene sound only serving to heighten your arousal. his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. the slight sting only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more of his dominance. gojo's other hand grips your thigh firmly, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of you with relentless precision.

your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of gojo’s possession. every nerve ending is alight with sensation, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, precariously close to the edge.

a hoarse cry spills from your lips as gojo hits that spot deep inside, the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “ahhh! oh god, right there!” you wail, hips bucking wildly to meet his punishing pace.

a sharp cry tears from your throat as gojo’s grip on your hair intensifies, the pain mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. you arch your back, offering yourself up completely to his dominating touch.

“yes, oh god, just like that!” you moan, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “fuck me harder, gojo-kun!”

gojo’s eyes flash with triumph and possessiveness at your wanton cries, his grip on your hair and thigh tightening reflexively. he slams into you with renewed ferocity, the force of his thrusts rattling the bed frame and sending the headboard crashing against the wall.

“that’s it, scream for me,” he snarls, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.” gojo’s free hand snakes around to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. the dual sensations of his ruthless pounding and the pleasurable tug on your sensitive bud send you spiraling closer to the edge.

as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with wild abandon. your world narrows down to the searing heat of gojo’s body, the relentless thrusts of his cock, and the intoxicating scent of sex that fills the air. you’re lost in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on chasing that elusive peak.

the pressure builds and builds, coiling tighter in your core until you think you might burst. gojo’s harsh commands and the brutal pace of his fucking only serve to heighten the tension, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

with a keening wail, you finally tumble over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you like a freight train. your inner walls clench around gojo’s throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“fuck, fuuck! gojo-kun! ’m cumming, cumming!”

gojo lets out a guttural roar as he feels your pussy clamping down on his cock, the vice-like grip triggering his own release. with one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his seed erupting in powerful spurts as he fills you up.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chants, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. gojo’s grip on your hair and thigh remains unrelenting, holding you in place as he marks you as his, claiming you utterly and completely.

overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared orgasms, you collapse onto the mattress the heartbeat his grasp on you loosened, your body still trembling with aftershocks. gojo’s continued pulsing inside you, coupled with the warmth of his release coating your insides, leaves you feeling utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

as your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of gojo’s hands gentling their hold on you, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your skin. a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as you melt into his touch, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

he leans forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed against your back. his breath is still a bit ragged, but you can feel his strong, steady presence behind you. for a few moments, all you hear is the steady, calming sound of your combined breathing, the only indication that both of you are slowly recovering from the intensity of your shared passion.

after a few moments, gojo breaks the comfortable silence, his voice low and still slightly husky. “you okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear.

his hands slide down your sides, gently encircling your waist, his touch tender and light. the weight of his chest against your back is reassuring, and you can still feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. he shifts slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his intense gaze on you, as if he’s silently assessing how you’re feeling.

a soft smile curves your lips at gojo’s gentle inquiry, your body relaxing further under his comforting touch. “mhm, i’m good,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to rest against the soft material of his blanket. “just... really sated right now.”

you let out a contented little sigh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the intimate closeness of his body pressed against yours. slowly but surely, the feeling of his softened cock slipped out of your cunt, taking all of your cum and his down to your thigh and floor.

gojo chuckles softly in response, hearing the hint of satisfaction in your tired voice. he plants a soft, feather-light kiss on your neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “that’s good,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of pride, “i’m glad i exhausted you that much.”

he pauses for a moment, his hands gently rubbing your sides, before speaking again. “need anything? water, a towel, or just... rest?” he asks, his tone genuinely concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, the tension of the past moments slowly melting away as you murmured, “just rest.” your voice was quiet, tired, and gojo, ever attentive, hummed in agreement, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“say no less,” he whispered with that same reassuring tone, his arms immediately wrapping around you. he shifted you both onto the bed, pulling you into his embrace and letting you rest your head on his chest. his warmth surrounded you, grounding you at the moment, his heartbeat steady beneath you.

gojo made sure to cover both of you with the blanket, tucking it around your bare body with care, his movements slow and deliberate. despite the weight of the earlier events, his presence was steady, a soft contrast to the tension you’d felt before. outside of the bet, outside of the teasing, the games, and the complexities of it all, he seemed intent on giving you comfort—giving you the space to just rest, without further complications. his fingers gently traced circles on your back, a quiet reminder that, at this moment, there was nothing but a reason you were on his bed simply because of a bet— the bet he’s going to win.

gojo held you close, his arms encircling your body snugly under the soft warmth of the blanket. he continued tracing light circles on your back, the soothing repetitive motion a silent reassurance of his presence and care.

his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm, and you could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his body offered a solid, comforting presence, grounding you in the aftermath of the eventful night.

gojo remained silent for several minutes, simply holding you close, his touch gentle and nurturing. after a few moments, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that both of you were more comfortable. his arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest, a silent promise of protection and comfort.

you simply nod.

gojo feels your nod, his lips curving into a small smile against your forehead. “good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low.

he lets out a deep, content sigh, his body relaxing further into the bed, his arms still holding you close. his breathing slows, a steady, measured rhythm that seems to lull you into a sense of peace and security. the room is enveloped in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

gojo’s gaze softened as he looked down at your peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the stillness of the room. he stayed like that for a while, just watching you, making sure you were fully asleep, your breathing steady and relaxed. he could feel the weight of the day, the tension from earlier, and he knew you needed this rest, even if you didn’t quite realize it yet.

once he was certain you were asleep, gojo's fingers slid beneath the pillow, pulling out his phone with careful movements. his smirk returned, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he unlocked the screen and opened the camera. he took a quick snapshot, the sound of the shutter a soft click that was barely audible in the quiet room. his eyes flicked down to the picture, his smirk widening as he admired the photo of you, completely unaware, asleep in his arms.

“this is mine,” he muttered quietly to himself, the excitement of the bet reigniting within him. he knew he was going to win, and as much as he enjoyed this rare moment of calm with you, there was no denying the competitive streak that ran through him. he tucked the phone back under the pillow, settling back into the warmth of the bed, still holding you close, but his mind already racing ahead to the next step in his game.

gojo’s gaze remains fixed on you, admiring the innocent, vulnerable expression on your face as you sleep. he takes several more moments to just watch you, his gaze flickering over every detail of your face—the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the slight part of your lips as you breathe in.

he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers gently tracing your skin, his touch almost reverent. “god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, the words slipping out involuntarily.

gojo’s eyes lingered on your peaceful, sleeping form, an unsettling mixture of admiration and satisfaction bubbling inside him. every detail of your face seemed to draw him in, each soft breath you took making his heart twist. he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his finger, as though savoring the image of you in your most vulnerable state. god, you're beautiful, he thought, the words slipping from his lips in a quiet murmur, but they were tinged with something darker.

as much as he tried to shake it off, a faint flicker of guilt gnawed at him. just a tiny sliver, a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of the bet, the cruel game he was playing with his friends. was this really what he wanted? to use you like this, to take advantage of your innocence, your trust, all for the sake of proving something to them? the thought scratched at his conscience, but it was fleeting, quickly drowned out by the more dominant, selfish part of him.

he couldn’t help it—he wanted to win. he wanted to show off, to prove that he was the one who’d conquered you first. the idea of rubbing it in toji, geto, and sukuna’s faces, seeing their reactions when he revealed that he was the one who’d claimed you, made his chest tighten with dark satisfaction. the guilt? it was easily buried beneath the hunger for victory.

monday couldn’t come soon enough.

sukuna leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smirk as he glanced at gojo. “you’re so damn stupid,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “just get to the point, genius. we’re here to talk about the bet, not hear you babble on like an idiot.”

the mention of the bet caused a shift in the group. toji’s smirk sharpened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward, clearly ready to pounce on whatever gojo had to offer. geto, normally the calmest of them, looked intrigued, his gaze steady and expectant. sukuna’s own smirk widened into a mocking grin, savoring the thrill of competition, ready to lay down his own proof and claim victory over the others.

he let the tension build, basking in the eager anticipation hanging thick between them. then, without further ado, sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and casually waving it in the air. “alright, boys. one... two... three,” he counted, then turned his screen toward the group with a triumphant look. displayed was a photo of you lying next to him, fast asleep, vulnerable and unguarded. sukuna’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the victory he thought was his.

as sukuna’s countdown reached three, he confidently pulled out his phone, an air of smug triumph around him as he turned the screen to reveal the photo of you, asleep in his arms, your peaceful face nestled against him. for a brief moment, he savored the victory, certain he’d be the one to claim the title. but as he looked up, expecting awe and frustration from the others, he found something else entirely.

geto’s face, usually so calm, had twisted into a look of sheer confusion, a frown creasing his brow as he looked down at his own phone, then up at sukuna, and back to his phone again. in his hand, on his own screen, was the exact same photo—down to every last detail. his jaw clenched, and he turned the phone towards sukuna without saying a word, letting the image speak for itself.

toji, who’d been leaning back with a predatory smirk, felt his confidence waver. he, too, checked his phone, and the smirk fell, replaced by a dark scowl. “what kind of joke is this?” he growled, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, a mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes as he flashed the identical photo.

and gojo, who’d initially met sukuna’s countdown with smug amusement, suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. he looked at his own screen, the same picture staring back at him, taunting him with an illusion of victory. his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at each of the others, his usual cocky grin now replaced with a frustrated grimace. “so… none of us won anything, huh?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low, laced with irritation.

a tense silence settled over them, their expressions twisted with disbelief and anger. each one felt the bitter sting of having been outsmarted, the pride and triumph they’d anticipated now twisted into something sharp and uncomfortable.

sukuna clenched his jaw, the victory he’d tasted turning to ash. “this is ridiculous. how the hell—” he began, but was cut off by toji’s dry, humorless laugh.

“guess none of us were as clever as we thought,” toji muttered darkly, his voice edged with anger and annoyance.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his pride deeply wounded. “tch,” he scoffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “so we all lost? pathetic.” they sat in a tense, silent circle, each stewing in their own frustration and realizing they’d been played.

gojo let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of the situation sinking in. none of them had won, and worse, they'd all been tricked. he glanced again in your direction, a mix of irritation and confusion on his face. the realization that you, sweet and innocent as you seemed, had somehow outsmarted them all was a pill too hard to swallow.

“well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “we’re all idiots.”

the four men turned, spotted you a few benches away, looking completely at ease, chatting with none other than nanami. his composed, polished demeanor stood out even in the crowded cafeteria, and as you held your phone up to show him something, you looked every bit like you were sharing a private joke. they saw your face light up with that familiar, radiant smile as nanami rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his expression softening in a way they rarely saw.

then, to their surprise, nanami sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing you a couple of bills. your smile grew even bigger, the kind of delighted, unguarded grin they’d each hoped to earn themselves. from a distance, they couldn’t make out what you were saying, but the playful exchange and easy familiarity between you both were clear as day.

their eyes widened when nanami leaned down, just slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he pressed a brief but gentle kiss to your lips—completely unfazed by the cafeteria full of students. the kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant, just natural and unapologetic. as he pulled away, he sent a pointed, almost warning glance in their direction, his gaze cold and unyielding, as if daring any of them to even think about challenging him.

you turned then, catching their gawking stares and raising the cash in your hand with a sly grin that practically dripped with triumph. they could only sit in stunned silence as you waved the money at them, your expression smug and knowing. your gaze lingered on them for a second longer, a little glint of mischief in your eyes, before you turned your attention back to your phone, completely unfazed by their reactions.

the four men sat there, speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock at the scene unfolding before them. they’d expected you to be meek and naive, unaware of their little bet. instead, here you were, giggling with nanami, a man known for his aloofness and strict nature, casually taking money from him in exchange for a kiss. your confident wave and smug smile only added to the shock.

toji was the first to snap out of it, his eyes narrowing as he watched you with a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell was that?” he sputtered, his voice strained.

sukuna’s face contorted with pure disbelief, a rare look of complete shock crossing his usual smug features. he couldn’t believe that the girl they’d all so casually thought they were playing had flipped the entire game on them. his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable… she played us.”

toji, on the other hand, looked downright irritated, his expression darkening as he watched nanami give you that casual, easy kiss. his pride stung, and he forced out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “so much for thinking she’d be easy to handle,” he growled. “guess we’re the ones who got handled.”

geto was silent, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he prided himself on being perceptive, but seeing you there with nanami, openly flaunting the victory they thought was theirs, left him speechless. his lips curved into a grudging smirk, though, as he muttered, “gotta hand it to her… didn’t see that coming.”

gojo felt his face flush with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment. he leaned back, running a hand over his face and letting out a soft, defeated chuckle. “well, this is just fantastic,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he watched you wave the money with that smug smile on your face. “we’re all idiots, and she knows it.”

the four men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. they’d underestimated you, treated you like a naive little toy to be won, but you'd turned the tables on them. and the fact that you’d done it so effortlessly, with such a casual smirk on your face, only added to the collective sense of shock and irritation.

gojo, in particular, couldn’t shake off the burning sense of embarrassment. you’d made him look like a fool, and that stung. him, who was never one to be outplayed, felt a strange mix of anger and admiration at your audacity. it was both aggravating and irritating, but there was an undercurrent of grudging respect. you’d made all of them look like morons, yet there was something about your confidence, the way you casually took nanami’s money, that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.

gojo clenched his jaw, his own competitive nature burning within him. “that smug little…” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

geto shot him a bemused smirk, sensing the competitive fire flaring up in his friend. “looks like you’ve met your match, genius,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “and judging by the look on your face, you’re not handling it too well.”

lost in a whirlwind of shock and confusion, they barely noticed you approaching until you were standing right at their table, an amused, knowing smile on your lips. with a graceful, almost lazy flick of your wrist, you dropped a small stack of polaroids onto the table, each one falling face-up, showing exactly what they dreaded to see.

each photo captured the same damning image: them, fast asleep, completely unaware, while you sat on their waist, looking down with a mocking pout. your lips jutted out in an exaggerated, fake crying face, as if mourning their obliviousness. their faces, peaceful in sleep, were juxtaposed with your taunting expression, turning the tables in a way none of them could have expected.

toji’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pictures, his smirk quickly fading to a tight-lipped grimace. sukuna’s jaw clenched, a flush of irritation darkening his cheeks as he processed the fact that you’d played him, all of them, so perfectly. geto let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head, unable to hide a mix of amusement and frustration at your brazen boldness.

gojo, usually quick with a snappy comeback, could only stare at the photos, stunned into silence. he glanced up at you, his gaze a mix of admiration and disbelief. you’d outwitted them, effortlessly.

you leaned in slightly, resting one hand on the edge of the table, flashing them a wicked grin. “hope you enjoyed your little nap, boys,” you teased, your tone sweet but dripping with smugness. with one final smirk, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving them speechless, the photos in hand as a constant reminder of the game they’d lost to you.

[machveil]

I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

[amirasainz]

Hey, can write one where rbr!reader and Ollie prank the grid and tell them that Ollie accidentally got her pregnant. Maybe they all have different reactions. Pretty please♥️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

I am currently obsessed with writing driver!reader, so maybe some requests for her or similar to this story.

-xoxo babygirl 💜

The greatest prank of all times

The sun had barely risen over the paddock when Y/N and Ollie, full of mischievous energy, hatched their plan. Both young, vibrant, and constantly on the lookout for some fun to break the tension of race weekends, they decided it was time to pull a lighthearted prank on their fellow F1 drivers. It wasn’t often the grid got to see the two of them in action, but today was going to be different.

Y/N, the youngest driver on the grid and a star for Red Bull Racing, teamed up with Ollie. They had been best friends for years, their bond often the source of harmless trouble. This time, however, they were aiming for something bigger—a prank the grid would never forget.

They booked a small, private room in the Red Bull hospitality area. It was cozy, with just enough space for a couch, a table, and a couple of chairs. Perfect for their "serious" conversation. Hidden cameras were expertly positioned around the room, capturing every angle without raising suspicion. They’d already tested the setup earlier in the morning, making sure every tear and every frantic gesture would be caught on film.

The story was simple yet effective. Y/N would pretend to be distraught, eyes puffy and red as if she’d been crying all night. Ollie would play the role of the nervous boyfriend, pacing the room, wringing his hands, and muttering apologies under his breath. The "problem"? Y/N was "pregnant," and they didn’t know what to do.

To make it believable, they sent text messages to each driver on the grid, tailored to their personalities:

"Hey, I really need to talk to you. It's serious. Can you come to the Red Bull lounge? Please don’t tell anyone."

One by one, the drivers were lured into the trap.

Y/N and Ollie ran through the scenario a dozen times before anyone arrived.

"Okay, so you’re crying, and I’m like, ‘I don’t know what to do!’ And then maybe I sit down and put my head in my hands?” Ollie suggested, pacing the room.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’ll be like, ‘I’m so scared!’ and then just stare at them for help. They'll definitely freak out!” Y/N added, barely suppressing a laugh.

----

The first text had already been sent, and the countdown began. Y/N dabbed her cheeks with a damp tissue, smearing her mascara slightly to complete the "crying" effect. Ollie threw on a hoodie and deliberately messed up his hair, making himself look as if he hadn’t slept.

"Alright, camera rolling?" Ollie asked, glancing at the monitor hidden behind a stack of Red Bull merchandise.

"Rolling," Y/N confirmed, grinning despite herself.

The door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

“Showtime,” Ollie whispered, shooting Y/N a conspiratorial wink before slumping into character.

The first victim was about to walk in.

----

The door opened slowly, and Lewis stepped into the room, his presence immediately filling the small space. His usual calm and reassuring demeanor was evident as he scanned the room, his eyes softening when he saw Y/N with her head in her hands, shoulders trembling as if she were crying. Ollie, meanwhile, was pacing frantically, his hands running through his hair like a man on the verge of a breakdown.

"Hey, hey, what’s going on?" Lewis asked gently, closing the door behind him. He moved toward Y/N, lowering himself to her level on the couch. "Y/N, are you okay?"

Y/N sniffled dramatically, her face buried in her hands. She peeked at Ollie from the corner of her eye, who nodded ever so slightly, signaling her to go ahead.

“It’s— it’s bad, Lewis,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Lewis immediately placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his tone soft and full of concern. "It’s okay. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together. Just breathe, alright?"

Ollie let out a shaky sigh, his pacing picking up. "I messed up, Lewis. I really messed up."

Lewis glanced between the two, his brows furrowing. "What happened? You two are scaring me."

Y/N wiped her eyes dramatically, hesitating for a moment before blurting out, "I’m pregnant."

Lewis froze, his expression blank for a second as he processed the information. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out immediately. The weight of the news settled over the room like a thick fog.

Then, he took a deep breath, his face softening once more. "Okay. Alright," he said, nodding slowly. "First of all, it’s going to be okay. Both of you, calm down. We’ll figure this out together."

He turned to Y/N, his voice gentle and steady. "Y/N, does anyone else know? Your parents?"

Y/N shook her head, biting her lip. "No. We don’t know how to tell them. I don’t even know what to do," she mumbled, her voice cracking.

Lewis exhaled, leaning back slightly as he processed the situation. "Alright. Here’s what I think. You need to talk to them. They’ll be shocked, sure, but they love you. They’ll want to help."

Y/N gave a small, hesitant nod, while Ollie finally stopped pacing, standing awkwardly by the couch.

"But listen, Y/N," Lewis continued, looking her directly in the eyes, "this is your decision. Whatever you want to do, it’s your choice, and no one else’s. Don’t let anyone pressure you into anything, alright?"

She nodded again, sniffing.

Lewis then turned his attention to Ollie, his gaze serious but kind. "And you, Ollie. You need to ask yourself something important—do you want to be a dad?"

Ollie gulped, glancing at Y/N before muttering, "I—I don’t know. I mean, I want to be there for her, but I’m scared."

Lewis placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder, grounding him. "That’s natural. But if this is happening, you need to be ready to step up. Support her. Be a team. This isn’t just about you anymore."

Ollie nodded, looking genuinely thoughtful, even as he fought the urge to crack a smile at how seriously Lewis was taking it all.

"Listen, both of you," Lewis said, his tone resolute. "Whatever happens, I’m here for you. You’re not alone in this. I’ll help you figure things out, no matter what you decide. You can call me anytime, alright?"

Y/N let out a small sob, hiding her face again to disguise her laughter. It was Ollie who couldn’t hold it in any longer. He burst out laughing, doubling over as the tension in the room snapped like a rubber band.

Lewis looked utterly confused. "Wait—what’s happening?"

Through her fake tears, Y/N managed to choke out, "It’s a prank! We’re joking!"

The realization dawned on Lewis, and he leaned back, his mouth falling open in disbelief. Then, he started laughing, shaking his head. "You two… are terrible. I was ready to call your parents!"

Y/N and Ollie were in hysterics, tears of laughter streaming down their faces.

Lewis stood, hands on his hips, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "I hope you know, you’ve got a prank coming your way now."

Even as they laughed, they knew they’d never forget how kind and supportive Lewis had been.

----

The door opened, and Charles stepped into the room, his brow already furrowed with concern. "Y/N? Ollie? What’s going on?" he asked, his voice edged with worry as his eyes darted between them.

Y/N sat curled up on the couch, her head down and shoulders shaking as if she’d been crying for hours. Ollie, meanwhile, was pacing like a trapped animal, muttering under his breath. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, and it immediately put Charles on edge.

“Y/N,” Charles said softly, stepping closer. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Y/N sniffled dramatically, peeking up at Ollie, who gave her a quick nod to go ahead. She hesitated, biting her lip, and finally whispered, “It’s really bad, Charles.”

Ollie stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair, letting out an exaggerated, shaky sigh. “We… We don’t know what to do, man.”

Charles’ expression shifted to alarm, his hands fidgeting nervously as he crouched down to be at Y/N’s level. “Okay, okay. Just tell me. What happened?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she finally said, “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, it looked like Charles had been struck by lightning. His face went pale, his eyes wide as he stared at them in disbelief. “You’re… pregnant?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, her lip trembling, while Ollie looked down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck like a guilty schoolboy.

Charles sat back on his heels, visibly struggling to gather his thoughts. He rubbed his face with his hands, exhaling shakily. “Mon Dieu,” he muttered. “Okay… Okay.”

After a moment of silence, he stood, trying his best to mask his panic with determination. “It’s… It’s not the end of the world, okay? It’s hard, yes, but we can figure this out. You’re both so young, but… we’ll make it work.”

Charles looked at Y/N with genuine sincerity, his voice soft. “If you need somewhere to stay, you can live with me. Both of you. My home is open to you.”

Y/N sniffled again, nodding while biting her lip to suppress a smile.

“And… And I can help, financially, emotionally—whatever you need,” Charles continued, pacing now, his hands moving expressively. “This is big, but you’re not alone. You’ve got me, okay?”

Ollie looked up, his face a picture of fake anguish. “Thanks, Charles. That means a lot.”

Charles stopped pacing and turned back to them, his eyes glassy with emotion. “Listen,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I know this is overwhelming, but it’s also… it’s also something to celebrate.” He gestured between them. “New life. That’s something beautiful. Scary, yes, but beautiful.”

Before either of them could respond, Charles stepped forward and pulled them both into a hug, holding them tightly. “You’re going to be okay. Both of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Y/N buried her face in his shoulder to stifle her laughter, while Ollie awkwardly patted Charles on the back, barely able to contain his own giggles.

“Charles,” Y/N finally said, her voice muffled.

“Yeah?” he replied, pulling back to look at her.

“It’s a prank,” she blurted out, a burst of laughter escaping her.

Charles froze, his jaw dropping as the words sank in. “Quoi?”

Ollie was already doubled over with laughter, and Y/N followed suit, tears streaming down her face—not from crying but from laughing so hard.

Charles stood there, his face a mixture of shock, betrayal, and relief. “Are you serious? You… You scared me to death!”

Y/N gasped for breath, still laughing. “I’m sorry, Charles! We couldn’t resist!”

Charles shook his head, a small smile breaking through his initial disbelief. “You two are unbelievable. I was ready to start building a nursery for you!”

As the laughter died down, Charles joined in, shaking his head at their antics. “You’re lucky I love you both. But you’d better watch out, because revenge is coming.”

-----

Oscar opened the door, his brow furrowing at the sight in front of him. Y/N sat on the couch, her head buried in her hands, and Ollie was pacing again, his face a picture of distress. The room was thick with tension, and Oscar could immediately sense that something was wrong.

“Oi, what’s going on?” Oscar asked, his voice laced with concern as he stepped in, looking between the two of them.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes red and her face a mask of fake sadness. She hesitated for a moment, waiting for Ollie’s silent cue. Ollie stopped pacing and gave her a nod.

Oscar stood there, completely bewildered, trying to make sense of what he was walking into. He looked at Y/N, who took a deep breath and said, “Oscar… I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Oscar just stared at her, his mind struggling to process what she had said. His face drained of color, and his eyes flickered over to Ollie, who was now standing silently, looking every bit the panicked figure.

“Wait… what?” Oscar whispered, taking a small step forward.

Y/N nodded slowly, and Ollie let out a shaky breath, as if the weight of the situation had just hit him all at once.

Oscar sat down on the arm of the couch, placing his head in his hands, clearly shaken. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the ventilation system, and it felt like time had slowed down.

“I— I don’t know what to say…” Oscar murmured, still processing the shock.

After a few moments, he lifted his head and looked at them both, his voice more steady now, though tinged with concern. “Look… whatever happens, everything’s going to be fine, okay? You two are family, and you’re not in this alone. I’ll help you. I’ll be here for you.”

Oscar’s voice cracked slightly, but he quickly gathered himself. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself. I’m here, I promise.”

But then, his expression softened as he looked at them, his eyes filled with honesty. “But... to be real with you, I’m not sure I know how to help. We’re all so young, and maybe... maybe we should talk to someone who knows what they’re doing. Maybe we should ask Mark for help, someone who’s an adult and can guide us.”

Y/N and Ollie both stared at him, and for a moment, the sincerity in Oscar’s voice seemed to bring them back to the gravity of the situation.

“But…” Oscar continued, his eyes softening as he looked at the two of them. “I’ll go with you. I’ll support you. We’ll figure it out together, okay? Because no matter what, we’re friends. And that means we stick together. You don’t have to face this on your own.”

Y/N was on the verge of tears, not from distress but from holding back laughter. She could see the genuine concern in Oscar’s eyes, and despite everything, it made the prank feel all the more heartwarming.

Ollie, too, felt a rush of gratitude for his friend’s unwavering support, even if it was all based on a huge misunderstanding.

“Oscar,” Y/N said softly, her voice full of emotion, “thank you. I swear we’ll make it up to you for scaring you like this.”

Oscar blinked, clearly still trying to make sense of everything, when suddenly the tension snapped. Y/N burst into laughter, and Ollie followed suit, unable to keep it in any longer.

Oscar’s face went from concern to confusion to disbelief. “Wait... What?!”

“It’s a prank!” Y/N managed to gasp between laughs. “We’re just messing with you!”

Oscar’s expression froze, and for a moment, he was completely still, trying to comprehend what was happening. Then, his eyes narrowed playfully, a grin slowly breaking through his initial shock.

“You two… I’m going to get you back for this,” Oscar said, shaking his head, though a smile tugged at his lips. “I was ready to become a dad! What are you doing to me?”

Y/N laughed even harder, wiping tears from her eyes. “We thought you’d be the one to react the most seriously, and we weren’t wrong.”

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you got me. But seriously, next time you prank me, you better make sure it’s not something that serious. I almost had a panic attack.”

“I’m sorry, Oscar!” Ollie said, still grinning. “We promise we’ll make it up to you!”

Oscar leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You better, because I’m never trusting either of you again.”

The room was filled with laughter, the tension of the moment finally broken, and despite the craziness of it all, they knew their bond as friends was stronger than ever.

----

The next one who walked in was Carlos, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with concern as he noticed the tense atmosphere in the room. Y/N sat on the couch, head down, and Ollie was pacing, his hands nervously running through his hair. It was clear something serious was going on, and Carlos immediately felt a knot form in his stomach.

“Hey, what’s going on? You guys okay?” Carlos asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes red and tearful, but there was a flicker of mischief in them that Carlos didn’t notice right away. Ollie, on the other hand, was pacing with purpose, his face scrunched up as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Carlos…” Y/N began, her voice shaky. “I… I’m pregnant.”

Carlos froze in place, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened in shock as he tried to process what he had just heard.

“Wait… what?” Carlos stammered, his mind struggling to catch up. “Y/N… you’re… pregnant?”

Y/N nodded slowly, her face a picture of fake sadness. Ollie stopped pacing, his eyes wide as he looked at Carlos with a mixture of fear and guilt.

Carlos began pacing himself, running his hands through his hair, trying to make sense of the situation. “This... this is big, Y/N. You’re so young, and Ollie too—this is really serious, you know? You guys… this wasn’t planned, right? It was careless.”

He paused, looking between them with concern, his voice rising with panic as he spoke. “You’re too young for this, both of you. What were you thinking?”

Y/N’s expression faltered, her lip trembling as she struggled to hold back a smile. Ollie, too, looked down, feeling the weight of the words as if they were truly being scolded.

But when Carlos noticed how devastated they looked—how broken and unsure they were—his steps faltered. He immediately stopped pacing, his hand lowering from his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos said quickly, his voice softening as he turned toward them. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not mad. I was just… shocked. I didn’t know what to say at first. I didn’t know how to react.”

Y/N looked up at him, her expression vulnerable, and Ollie shifted uncomfortably, his eyes meeting Carlos’ for the first time in what felt like forever.

Carlos took a deep breath, stepping closer to them, his gaze softening. “Listen, I’m still shocked. You guys are so young. I wasn’t expecting this. But I will help. I will be there for you both.”

Y/N’s lip quivered as she looked at him, taking in his words. Carlos kneeled down in front of them, looking each of them in the eyes. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to help exactly. But I’ll be there. We’ll figure it out together. But…”

He paused, his face showing his own uncertainty. “I still can’t believe you’re pregnant, Y/N. You’re so young… this is a huge thing to take on. But… if you need anything—anything at all—I’m here. I’ll support you.”

Ollie let out a shaky breath, still looking down at the floor. “We’re scared, Carlos. We don’t know what to do, and we didn’t know who else to turn to.”

Carlos reached out, putting a hand on Ollie’s shoulder, then turning to Y/N with a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this, okay? You’ve got me. But seriously, maybe we need to talk to someone who can help us more. We’re too young to know how to navigate all this, you know? We need to talk to someone who knows more about this.”

The sincerity in his voice broke through the tension, and Y/N finally let out a small, relieved breath, though her face was still full of fake distress.

Carlos stood up and took a step back, wiping his hand over his face. “And I’ll help you talk to your parents if you need me to. We’ll figure it out together, I swear. But… I really didn’t expect this.”

Y/N couldn't hold it in anymore. She and Ollie both burst out laughing, and Carlos stood frozen for a moment, his mouth falling open in shock.

“Wait, what?!” Carlos exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Is this a prank?”

Y/N wiped the tears from her eyes, still laughing. “It’s a prank, Carlos! We were messing with you!”

Carlos’ face slowly shifted from confusion to a mixture of shock and relief. He took a deep breath, shaking his head in exasperation. “You guys are unbelievable,” he said, the tension melting away as a laugh escaped him. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry!” Ollie said between fits of laughter. “We just had to do it to you!”

Carlos sighed dramatically, but a smile tugged at his lips. “You two are insane. But seriously… next time you want to pull a prank like this, maybe make it a little less… real.”

Y/N and Ollie just grinned, still laughing. “We’ll make it up to you, promise.”

Carlos shook his head, chuckling, though he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride. After all, the two had truly pulled off a masterclass in pranking him—he’d almost believed it.

“You better make it up to me,” Carlos said with a playful grin. “And by the way, when you two start planning your real life decisions, let me know. I’ll give you actual advice then.”

----

Max strode into the room, his sharp eyes scanning the tense scene in front of him. Y/N sat curled on the couch, her head buried in her hands, while Ollie was pacing frantically. Something was clearly wrong, and the heavy atmosphere hit Max immediately.

“What’s going on?” Max asked, his voice firm and direct.

Y/N sniffled but didn’t answer, and Ollie froze mid-step, turning to look at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

“Max,” Y/N whispered, her voice shaky and small. “I… I’m pregnant.”

The words landed like a bomb. Max’s face immediately shifted into a mixture of shock and disbelief. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out as he processed what he’d just heard.

“You’re what?” Max finally said, his voice sharp.

“Pregnant,” Y/N repeated, her voice trembling.

Max stared at her, his eyes narrowing as the weight of the situation settled in. “You’re kidding, right? This is some kind of joke?”

Ollie shook his head, his voice low. “No. It’s real. We don’t know what to do.”

Max took a deep breath, his hand dragging over his face as he tried to contain the storm of emotions swirling inside him. “You two are too young for this! How could you be so careless? Do you even realize what this means?”

Y/N flinched at his words, her lip trembling as she fought to keep her composure.

“You’re just kids,” Max continued, his voice rising slightly. “Do you even know what it takes to raise a child? This isn’t just some small mistake—it’s life-changing!”

Y/N let out a shaky sob, and Max immediately stopped. His harsh tone softened as he saw how devastated she looked. In an instant, he crossed the room and knelt in front of her, pulling her into his arms.

“Hey, hey,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Y/N buried her face in his shoulder, her fake tears muffled by his jacket. Max’s hold tightened as he whispered, “It’s going to be okay. I’ll help you figure this out.”

He glanced up at Ollie, his expression hardening. “And you,” Max said sharply, his tone like a scolding parent. “You better be ready to step up, Ollie. You can’t leave her to deal with this on her own. She needs you to be there for her.”

Ollie nodded quickly, trying his best to look apologetic. “I will, Max. I swear.”

Max sighed, shaking his head. “Stupid teenagers,” he muttered under his breath before pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a mix of worry and determination.

“You’re not alone, Y/N,” Max said softly, his hand still stroking her hair. “We’ll figure it out. But… I can’t believe you two let this happen.”

Y/N sniffled again, barely able to keep the giggles bubbling up inside her from escaping. Ollie bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing at the sight of Max in full protective mode.

Max looked between them, his brow furrowing. “What?” he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

“It’s a prank,” Y/N blurted out, laughter finally breaking free.

Max froze, blinking as the words sank in. “A prank?” he repeated slowly, his voice dangerously calm.

Ollie nodded, unable to stop himself from laughing now. “Yeah, Max. It’s a prank.”

Max pulled back, his expression a mixture of relief and exasperation. “You two are unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea how much you scared me? I was ready to adopt the baby myself!”

Y/N and Ollie were laughing uncontrollably now, the tension in the room replaced with giddy energy.

“I’m sorry, Max!” Y/N said between giggles. “We couldn’t resist!”

Max stood, crossing his arms as he looked at them both with mock severity. “You two are going to pay for this,” he said, though the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away. “And don’t expect me to believe you next time you cry wolf!”

Y/N grinned, wiping fake tears from her eyes. “We’ll make it up to you, Max. Promise.”

Max shook his head, his smile finally breaking through. “You better. And next time you prank someone, don’t make it about something that serious. My heart can’t take it.”

----

Lando strolled into the room with his usual carefree energy, a playful grin on his face. He immediately noticed the tension in the air, but instead of worry, his first instinct was humor.

“What’s going on? You two look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he joked, his bright eyes darting between Y/N and Ollie.

Y/N glanced at Ollie, who gave her a subtle nod. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Lando, her voice trembling. “Lando… I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Lando just stared at her, his grin frozen on his face. Then, he burst out laughing, clapping his hands together. “Good one! You almost got me there!”

Y/N and Ollie exchanged a quick look before Y/N shook her head. “Lando, I’m serious. Ollie’s the dad.”

The laughter immediately died on Lando’s lips, his smile fading as he looked at them both. “Wait… what? You’re serious?”

Y/N nodded, her face the picture of fake distress.

Lando’s playful demeanor shifted in an instant, his brow furrowing as he processed the situation. “How did this happen? I mean, I know how, but… you guys are so young. What were you thinking?”

Ollie shifted nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “We didn’t plan this, obviously. It just… happened.”

Lando sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. Tell me everything. I need to know exactly what’s going on before we figure out what to do.”

For the next few minutes, Y/N and Ollie stumbled through their fabricated story, trying their best to keep their composure as they watched Lando’s serious expression. Once they were done, Lando sat back in his chair, his arms crossed as he nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he said, his tone surprisingly calm and measured. “Here’s what we’re going to do. First, tomorrow morning, the three of us are going to the doctor. We need to make sure everything’s okay with you and the baby, Y/N.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, not expecting Lando to take charge so quickly.

“After that,” Lando continued, “we’ll go to your parents. Both of you. I’ll come with you when you tell them. They’ll need to know, and you’ll need their support.”

Ollie opened his mouth to protest, but Lando raised a hand to stop him. “No arguments. They’re your parents, and they’ll want to be there for you—even if they’re mad at first.”

Y/N and Ollie exchanged a glance, both trying to hide their surprise at how practical Lando was being.

“Once that’s done, we’ll find a place for you two to live together,” Lando said, his voice growing more determined. “Somewhere big enough for a nursery but close to me so I can help if you need anything.”

Ollie gaped at him. “Lando, that’s… a lot.”

Lando ignored him, already deep in thought. “We’ll design the baby’s room together. I’ll help you pick out furniture, decorations, everything. And I’ll go with you to every appointment if you want me there. I’ll even help with the baby when they’re born. Diapers, bottles, sleepless nights—you name it. We’re in this together.”

By now, Y/N was struggling to keep a straight face. Lando’s level of commitment and detail was far beyond anything she’d expected.

“Lando,” Y/N said, her voice wavering with emotion, “that’s… really sweet of you.”

Lando turned to her, his expression softening. “You’re my friend, Y/N. And Ollie, you too. You’re not doing this alone, not if I can help it.”

Ollie scratched the back of his head, looking both grateful and overwhelmed. “Wow, mate, I didn’t think you’d have a whole plan ready.”

Lando shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Well, someone has to keep a cool head in this situation. And honestly, it’s kind of exciting in a weird way. A little scary, yeah, but exciting too.”

Y/N’s lip trembled as she tried to hold back her laughter, but it was too much. She burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as the tension in the room broke.

“Lando,” she said between giggles, “it’s a prank! We’re not actually having a baby!”

Lando’s jaw dropped, and he stared at them both in disbelief. “Wait, what? You’re kidding me, right?”

Ollie joined in the laughter, shaking his head. “Nope. It was all a prank. We wanted to see how you’d react.”

Lando slumped back in his chair, letting out a groan. “You two… I can’t believe I fell for that. I was already planning your entire future!”

Y/N wiped away tears of laughter. “You were amazing, though! You had everything figured out!”

Lando sighed, shaking his head, though a small smile crept back onto his face. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to go all out like that again anytime soon. You’ve officially used up your prank privileges.”

The three of them laughed together, the air now light and full of warmth. Despite the prank, Y/N and Ollie couldn’t help but feel touched by how quickly Lando had stepped up to support them, proving just how much he cared.

----

Fernando entered the room with his usual composed yet curious demeanor, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the scene before him. Y/N was curled up on the couch, "crying" into Ollie’s shoulder, while Ollie looked up at Fernando with an expression of guilt and desperation.

“What happened?” Fernando asked, his voice calm but laced with concern.

Y/N sniffled, pulling back slightly from Ollie’s hold to look at Fernando. “I… I’m pregnant,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

Fernando froze for a moment, his sharp gaze flicking between the two young drivers. His silence stretched for a beat too long, making Y/N and Ollie exchange a brief, worried glance.

Then, to their utter surprise, Fernando’s face broke into a wide, genuine smile. His entire demeanor shifted, radiating warmth as he stepped closer to them. “That’s wonderful news!” he said, his voice filled with excitement.

Before either of them could respond, Fernando leaned down and wrapped them both in a strong, reassuring hug. “Congratulations, both of you,” he said, his tone so heartfelt that it momentarily disarmed the pranksters.

When he finally pulled back, his expression softened as he noticed how “scared” they looked. Without missing a beat, Fernando sat down on the couch between them, motioning for Y/N and Ollie to sit closer. He gently pulled Y/N to his right side and Ollie to his left, placing a comforting arm around each of them.

“I know you’re scared,” he began, his voice soothing and steady. “But this is going to be one of the most beautiful experiences of your lives. A new life, a part of you both, is coming into the world. You’ll love that child more than anything else—more than racing, more than winning.”

Y/N’s “tears” slowed as she listened, her heart softening at Fernando’s words despite the prank. Ollie leaned in slightly, his nervous energy fading as Fernando continued.

“You’ll get to watch them grow up,” Fernando said, his eyes shining with a rare tenderness. “Their first steps, their first words, the way they’ll look at you with so much love and trust… There’s nothing like it. And you’ll give them the world because you’ll want nothing but the best for them.”

Fernando paused, smiling warmly at the two of them. “This isn’t something to be afraid of. It’s something to celebrate. A child will bring you joy, purpose, and a love you never knew was possible.”

For a moment, Y/N and Ollie could almost see the future Fernando was painting for them—a cozy home filled with laughter, the small hands of a child reaching for theirs, and the kind of love that could make anything possible.

Ollie cleared his throat, his voice quieter than usual. “You really think we could do this?”

Fernando squeezed his shoulder, his smile unwavering. “I know you can. You’re strong, both of you. And you won’t be alone in this—you’ll have each other, your families, your friends… and me. I’ll be here every step of the way if you need me.”

Y/N glanced at Ollie, her resolve wavering under the weight of Fernando’s sincere encouragement. Finally, unable to keep up the charade any longer, she let out a small laugh.

“Fernando,” she said, wiping her fake tears away, “it’s a prank.”

Fernando blinked, his smile faltering as he processed her words. “A prank?”

Ollie nodded, a sheepish grin on his face. “Yeah… we wanted to see how you’d react.”

For a moment, Fernando just stared at them. Then, a deep laugh rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head in disbelief. “You two are unbelievable! You had me going for a moment there.”

“We’re sorry,” Y/N said, her voice still tinged with laughter. “But honestly, your reaction was so sweet.”

Fernando chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “Well, when it does happen someday, you’ll know exactly what I think about it.”

Ollie grinned. “Thanks, Fernando. You were amazing, honestly.”

Fernando waved a hand, still smiling. “Just promise me one thing—when you pull your next prank, make it a little less heart-stopping for me, okay?”

The three of them laughed together, the warmth of Fernando’s words lingering long after the prank had been revealed.

----

Yuki walked into the room, his usual curious and slightly mischievous energy in full swing. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking at Y/N, who was hunched over, fake crying into her hands, and Ollie, who looked awkwardly guilty while pacing the room.

“Yuki, we need to tell you something,” Ollie began, his voice serious.

Yuki blinked, glancing between them. “Okay… What is it?”

Y/N sniffled dramatically, wiping her “tears” with her sleeve. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Yuki just stared, his head tilting slightly to the side. “Huh?”

“I’m pregnant,” Y/N repeated, trying to sound exasperated but sad.

Yuki squinted, his confusion only deepening. “Wait, like… for real? Or are you talking about some kind of food baby? You ate too much sushi or something?”

“No, Yuki!” Ollie interjected, his hands on his hips. “She’s actually pregnant.”

“Oh,” Yuki said, nodding slightly, but his expression was still blank. “Okay… so, um… what do you want me to do about it?”

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh, looking at Ollie for help. Ollie sat down beside her, trying to maintain the act. “Yuki, it’s serious. Y/N is having a baby, and I’m the dad.”

This only seemed to confuse Yuki more. He blinked rapidly, his eyebrows knitting together. “Wait, you’re the dad?”

“Yes, Yuki,” Ollie said slowly, as if explaining to a child. “I’m the dad.”

Yuki’s brow furrowed further as he processed this information. “Okay… but who’s the dad?”

Ollie groaned, rubbing his temples. “Me. I’m the dad, Yuki.”

Yuki looked genuinely puzzled, glancing at Y/N and then back at Ollie. “But… how? You’re, like, just… Ollie.”

At this point, Y/N let out a frustrated laugh, breaking character. “Yuki, what do you mean, ‘just Ollie’? How do you not get this?”

Yuki shrugged, looking completely unbothered. “I don’t know. It’s just weird. Are you guys pranking me or something?”

Y/N and Ollie exchanged a glance before collapsing onto the couch across from Yuki, utterly defeated. “Yes, Yuki,” Y/N said with a sigh. “It’s a prank.”

Yuki’s face lit up. “Oh! Okay! That makes way more sense.” He stood up, stretching casually. “You should’ve just said that from the beginning. Anyway, I’m going to get a snack. Let me know if you need help with, uh, whatever.”

With that, Yuki walked out of the room, leaving Y/N and Ollie staring after him, dumbfounded.

“He didn’t get it at all,” Ollie muttered, shaking his head.

“Nope,” Y/N agreed, slumping back against the couch.

From down the hall, Yuki’s voice echoed back to them. “You guys are weird!”

----

Franco stepped into the room with a concerned expression, immediately sensing something was off. His eyes darted between Y/N, who was "crying" into her hands, and Ollie, who was pacing nervously with a hand in his hair.

“What’s going on?” Franco asked, his voice laced with worry as he moved closer. “Are you two okay? Did something happen?”

Y/N sniffled dramatically, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes—an excellent fake cry performance. “Franco… I’m pregnant.”

Franco froze, his eyes going wide. He opened his mouth to say something but immediately closed it again, clearly unsure how to react. “Wait… are you—like, seriously? For real?”

Ollie nodded solemnly, stopping his pacing. “Yeah, and… I’m the dad.”

“Oh, my god,” Franco breathed, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. He took a step closer to them, his nervous energy bubbling over. “Okay, uh… okay. Are you happy? Are you scared? Sad? I—I don’t know how to feel right now. What about you guys?”

Y/N hiccupped, pretending to be on the verge of another sob. “We don’t know what to do, Franco. We’re so young…”

Franco immediately crouched down in front of her, his hands hovering nervously as if he wanted to comfort her but wasn’t sure how. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said quickly, his tone soft and motherly. “Deep breaths, Y/N. Deep breaths. It’s going to be okay. You too, Ollie—deep breaths.”

Ollie blinked in surprise. “Franco, you’re the one freaking out.”

Franco ignored him, pulling a chair close and sitting down, his knee bouncing anxiously. He clasped his hands together, his knuckles turning white as he tried to gather his thoughts. “Alright, listen. This is big. It’s huge. But we’re going to figure it out. You’re going to figure it out.”

He glanced between them again, his gaze softening. “Look, this is scary, but it’s also… kind of amazing, right? A new life! But—wait, no, sorry, I don’t want to freak you out more,” he added quickly, shaking his head. “Are you happy about this? Or scared? Or both? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Oh god, I’m not helping, am I?”

Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing, shaking her head. “No, Franco, you’re helping,” she said, her voice quivering with fake emotion.

Franco exhaled in relief, reaching over to pat her hand awkwardly. “Okay, good. That’s good. So, uh… first thing’s first: don’t panic. Take deep breaths. Have you thought about telling your parents? Or… no, no, wait, one thing at a time. I’m sorry, I’m just…” He ran a hand through his hair, visibly flustered. “I’m freaking out for you. But you’re going to be okay, I promise.”

Y/N and Ollie exchanged a quick glance, barely holding back their laughter as Franco continued to fret over them like a worried parent.

Finally, Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “Franco,” she said gently, reaching out to touch his hand.

He looked up at her, his face a mix of concern and determination. “Yeah?”

“It’s a prank,” she said, unable to hold back a laugh.

Franco blinked, his brain taking a second to catch up. “A… prank?”

Ollie nodded, his grin sheepish. “Yeah. We just wanted to see how you’d react.”

For a moment, Franco just stared at them, his jaw slightly slack. Then he let out a groan, leaning back in his chair and covering his face with his hands. “Are you serious? You two put me through all that for a prank?”

Y/N burst out laughing, reaching over to pat his arm. “Franco, you were amazing. Seriously, you were so sweet.”

Franco peeked at her through his fingers, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, next time maybe prank someone who doesn’t care as much.”

Ollie clapped him on the shoulder. “You care too much, mate. But that’s why we love you.”

Franco groaned again, though his smile lingered. “You’re both lucky I love you too. But don’t ever do that to me again!”

The three of them laughed together, the tension melting away as Franco finally relaxed, shaking his head at the duo’s mischievous antics.

----

The press conference room was abuzz with the usual pre-event chatter. Reporters settled into their seats, armed with notebooks, voice recorders, and cameras, ready to pepper the drivers with questions. But the atmosphere shifted when Y/N and Ollie walked in.

Y/N’s eyes were red and puffy, as though she’d been crying for hours. Her shoulders were hunched, her body language radiating nervousness. Ollie, on the other hand, had an almost frantic energy, his leg bouncing as he sat down next to her. Yet, he kept a hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles and leaning in every so often to whisper something comforting.

The other drivers on the panel—fully in on the prank—exchanged knowing glances, some biting their lips to keep from laughing. Lewis had to clear his throat and look away, Max pretended to be overly focused on his water bottle, and Lando barely managed to keep a smirk off his face.

It didn’t take long for the reporters to notice that something was off.

“Y/N,” one of them finally asked, leaning forward, “are you alright? You look upset.”

Y/N sniffled audibly, looking down at the table as though gathering herself. Ollie leaned closer, whispering something inaudible, which only seemed to make the situation more curious.

Another reporter jumped in. “Ollie, is everything okay with Y/N? You seem… tense.”

The tension in the room became palpable as reporters shifted in their seats, sensing a story. Finally, Y/N lifted her head, her voice shaky as she spoke. “We… we weren’t planning on talking about this today, but…” She paused, looking at Ollie, who nodded solemnly.

Ollie took over, his voice steady but filled with a faux nervous edge. “Y/N and I… we just found out she’s pregnant.”

The room erupted.

Gasps, hurried whispers, and the frantic clicking of cameras filled the air as reporters scrambled to process the bombshell.

“What does this mean for your career, Y/N?”

“Ollie, how are you going to support her through this?”

“Did Red Bull know? What’s the team’s response?”

Y/N buried her face in her hands, and Ollie leaned closer to shield her from the barrage of questions, murmuring fake reassurances like, “It’s okay, we’ll get through this.”

The other drivers played their parts to perfection.

Fernando leaned forward with a supportive nod. “We’re here for them, of course.”

Charles shook his head solemnly. “It’s a difficult situation, but they’re strong.”

Lando, biting his lip to keep from laughing, muttered, “Yeah, we’ll all be there for them.”

Max, perhaps enjoying the chaos a bit too much, smirked and added, “It’s a bit shocking, isn’t it? But these things happen.”

The questions only grew louder, reporters tripping over one another to get their takes. But then Y/N, who had been trying to “compose herself,” let out a small snort of laughter. Ollie followed suit, and within seconds, both of them were doubled over, laughing uncontrollably.

The reporters froze, staring in confusion. “What’s so funny?” one finally asked.

Lando couldn’t hold back any longer, bursting into laughter. Fernando chuckled, Charles shook his head with a grin, and even Max let out an amused huff.

Y/N finally managed to speak through her laughter. “It’s—it’s a prank! We’re not pregnant!”

The room went silent for a moment before an uproar of disbelief and groans erupted from the reporters. Some laughed along, shaking their heads, while others looked like they’d been played harder than ever before.

Ollie grinned, leaning into the microphone. “Sorry, we couldn’t resist. The reactions were too good.”

The other drivers laughed harder, with Fernando adding, “You should’ve seen your faces!”

Within hours, clips from the press conference flooded social media, from Y/N’s dramatic performance to Ollie’s earnest act and the reporters’ chaotic reactions. The prank went viral almost immediately, with fans and media outlets alike praising the creativity and humor of it all.

“Y/N and Ollie: F1’s Ultimate Pranksters” trended worldwide, with the prank cementing itself as one of the most memorable moments of the season. Even the reporters, though initially annoyed, couldn’t help but laugh at themselves once the dust settled.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟓) - 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, NON- CON, dark!Wanda, kidnapped, drugging, mind control, mommy kink, enchanted strap, breeding kink, dumbification, praise kink, manhandling

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: With Vision gone Wanda found a new way to have her perfect family. But for that she has to take drastic message

𝐀/𝐍: let’s pretend it’s yesterday

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

Wanda longed for one thing, a family, something picture perfect like you’d see in the sit coms she used to watch. But with Vision gone, she thought she could never reach her goal until she had found you. Pretty and young the perfect wife for her causes.

There was only one problem you already had a man. Which made her more angry with each day passing. How could a man claim over something which was clearly made for her. The only solution was to steal you away from your life, make you forget so you wouldn’t linger after the things which were bad for you.

Around her cabin in the Canadian woods she had build a small hex. A hex you couldn’t cross but was still big enough to make you feel like you could prow through the forest. But first she needed to catch you on your way home as she had mapped your daily schedule perfectly.

Wanda walked three steps behind you her hoodie hiding her face. Until you crossed in the dark valley leading into your Appartement. Hastily she had caught up to you her fingers casting a spell before you fell in her arms unconsciously.

When you regained your consciousness, waking up in clean white sheets with sun streaming through the window. Something was off, but you couldn’t remember what. You had memories of a life with a woman who seemed familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

When you stood up and found the kitchen the same unfamiliar woman was cooking breakfast, Wanda, had you just forgotten the name of your own wife? “Oh baby you’re awake already” She pulled you against her chest “Do you still have the headache from yesterday baby?” She asked her hand petting over your hair. “W- What? I can’t remember” Her perfect smile distorted a bit, became creepy even. “That’s because you haven’t had your pills yet baby” She spoke in a soothing voice as if it was the most normal thing for her.

She kept preparing for breakfast, cutting some strawberries because she knew she liked them. While she was focused on you her accidentally cut her finger, and the hex flickered for a split second and all the memories can crashing down on you. With from shock widened pupils you stared at her and she knew she had to act fast. “W-here am I?” Tears were building in building in your eyes. “Let me go I- I have a boyfriend, f- family”

She lounged at you manhandling your body on the couch “you don’t need them! All you need is me, I can tell what’s good for you and what not” She pressed you down hard the tears were already wetting the couching of the couch. “You’re just a dumb little girl who needs mommy to tell her what to do”

“Please don’t” You begged but her magic was already making you forget again. You’re brain soon felt like mush. You barely registered her pushing up your shirt and pulling your panties down “that’s a good girl all dumbed down and obedient” She played with your sloppy cunt. “You’re so wet baby? Do you like mommy playing with your little pussy?”

“Yes mommy” you mewl pushing your hips into her hands “Mhm that’s thats right… let mommy do all the thinking” She unzipped her own pants pulling them down to her thighs to reveal her enchanted strap. She alined herself with your sloppy cunt. Roughly she pushed into your tight hole splitting you open.

You mewl pressing your hips against her, like the desperate whore you were. She was harsh with her thrusts not caring about your desperate cries for release as they were only backround ambiance to the slapping of skin.

“You’re so tight for mommy” She cursed under her breath feeling every inch of you as she fucked you raw. “F- feels so good” You cried your throat raw from the screaming. “I’m gonna fuck you so full your gonna carry my babies”

“Yes” you chanted feeling your stomach tighten as you were just about to cum. “I’ll get you a full that’s what you want?! My dumb little housewife always ready for my dick?” She mocked her hand slapping your butt.

“M- Mommy, I- I’m close” You mewled biting down into the pillow you were clinging on. “Cum with me baby make me proud and cream over my cock” She fastened her hips again and you squirted all over her abs. She released her seed shortly after pulling out to finger her cum back into you. You were too far gone in the trance as you feel asleep on the couch. In a few hours you would be perfect for her that she was sure of.

@jolyssereed

[playnextdoor]

As long as you have me

summary: sesh with Sevika while she turns you out

cw: marijuana (whats new here), slight intox kink from Sevika, cunnilingus (r!receiving), Sevika is kinda rough, facesitting (r), tribbing, slight proofread, SEVIKA HAS BOTH ARMS!

The dizziness hits hard.

Sevika’s been letting you take hit after hit, teasing you about how easily you get high. By the time you’re a single drag in, you’re already teetering on the edge. Determined to prove her wrong, you pushed yourself past your usual two weak pulls of the jay she rolled. Now? You’ve nearly smoked the whole thing, and regret is setting in.

“All right, I can’t,” you mumble, unsure whether to laugh or cry because you’ve never been this high in your life.

“Yeah, I don’t think you can either,” Sevika snorts, plucking the joint from your fingers with a smirk. She takes one long, practiced drag, as calm as ever, before ashing the roach and setting it aside. Reaching for her glass of water, she takes a sip, then presses the rim to your lips. The lukewarm liquid feels like a lifeline, quenching the desert your mouth’s become.

The room swirls around you, even though the two of you haven’t moved from her bed in over an hour. Sevika lounges beside you, one hand buried in her hoodie, while you’re a twitchy, overthinking mess, trying not to forget how to breathe. Her free hand glides over your thigh in lazy, soothing circles, her touch grounding you even as the high drags you somewhere else entirely.

“Holy shit, your eyes, babe,” she gasps, her voice overly dramatic as she leans in close, cupping your face. Her thumb brushes your cheek as her sharp eyes scan your expression. “You good?” she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin.

You wrinkle your nose like you’ve smelled something awful and pull back, your face hot. “Stop. You always say that and then I get paranoid,” you whine, sinking back into the pillows.

Sevika doesn’t move, just stares at you with that crooked grin that always makes your chest flutter. You glance at her, and it’s hopeless—you’re smiling too, unable to ignore the butterflies crashing around inside you.

“What?” you mutter, voice low, but the question hangs in the space between you two.

“Nothing, just trying not to say something that’ll make you paranoid,” Sevika says, voice low as she shrugs off her hoodie. She knows exactly what she’s doing—underneath, it’s just that armhole tank that clings to her in all the right places, showing off her dark, delicious arms and just enough side boob to make your thoughts spiral. You can’t resist; your finger pokes at the exposed skin, playful and far too curious.

She smirks but doesn’t comment, shifting to get comfortable again, one hand rubbing her stomach lazily. Then, without warning, her hand slides between your legs, slipping past the hem of your t-shirt. Her fingers cup you over your panties, casual as anything, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath catches. Sevika stays completely still, her face calm, her body relaxed, but there’s no denying the heat that blooms between you. You’re soaked, embarrassingly so, and her fingers twitch like they’re itching to press harder, to push right where you need her most.

She doesn’t move, just watches you through heavy-lidded, red-rimmed eyes. Her gaze makes you feel dizzy all over again, like you’re floating somewhere just out of reach. You’re here, but at the same time, not really.

The corners of your mouth lift into a grin without you realizing it, and Sevika’s sharp eyes catch the change. She exhales, her heart racing faster with every second that passes. You can tell she’s already plotting how to pull that smug, dreamy expression right off your face.

“Mm... what?” you mumble again, your voice soft and slurred as your heavy-lidded eyes flutter open and closed. The THC hums through your veins, settling you into a weightless, floaty state that leaves your body melting into the bed. The sensation pools low in your stomach, and you can feel just how soaked you are as Sevika’s hand teases you.

She doesn’t say a word, just watches you with that look—the one that makes your pulse race and your breath hitch, like she’s planning to devour you whole. Her sharp gaze alone has your skin buzzing, but it’s the contrast that undoes you, the cool blankets brushing against your heated body, her large hand cupping your mound with such maddening gentleness.

Every nerve in you screams to stay calm, to hold yourself together, but it’s no use. Between the haze in your mind and the weight of her touch, you’re barely keeping it together. You’re fighting demons, and Sevika knows it.

“I’m gonna fuck you, okay?” Sevika asks, her voice low and casual, and you can’t help but giggle. You knew exactly what she was planning the second she pulled out her rolling papers, but hearing her say it like that sends you into a fit of laughter.

“Why’d you announce it like that?” you laugh, rolling over, making her hand slip out between your legs. Sevika grabs you before you can escape too far, pulling you back into her.

Your laughter spills out uncontrollably, and she starts laughing too. It’s that kind of laugh, the ridiculous, stoned-out-of-your-mind kind where every little thing feels like the funniest thing in the world. You wiggle on top of her, squirming as you mistake her attempts to steady you for tickling, which only makes it worse.

“C’mere,” she rasps in your ear, her voice like gravel, stopping you dead in your tracks. The sound shoots through your core, and before you realize what you’re doing, you’re straddling her midsection.

Her relaxed state is almost too cute. She’s not as far gone as you—her eyes don’t get as low and hazy—but you can tell the high is hitting her, too. She keeps licking her lips and swallowing, clearly battling cottonmouth. You get it, cottonmouth’s a bitch. Still, something about her slightly disheveled, unbothered demeanor makes your chest flutter.

“Who knew how fucking dumb you get when you smoke, hmm?” Sevika’s warm, rough hands snake up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. You groan in response, too floaty and noodle-like to argue. She’s right, and you both know it. Sevika had already prepped the room before you arrived, knowing you would ask for something every five minutes.

“You like it when you’re like this? Can’t even think, just focused on how I’m about to fuck the shit outta you,” she mutters, her voice low and teasing as she yanks you down into a kiss. It’s sickly sweet, almost painful, her teeth grazing your lip before biting down hard enough to make you whimper. Sevika gets rough and filthy when she’s drunk or high, all blunt force and no filter. Her favorite thing? Showing off just how built she is. Carrying you, dragging you, manhandling you however she pleases.

And her mouth? That’s a whole other person. She’ll say whatever crosses her mind, like now.

“C’mere. Get that ass on my face,” she growls, breaking the kiss. Her voice drops ten octaves and rasp, making your stomach flip. You cling to every word, breathless, barely able to think as she pushes you higher up her body.

“Wait—Sev, my panties,” you stammer, scrambling to slip them off. She bats your hands away with a huff, nuzzling between your thighs like she doesn’t have the patience for your shit. Then, before you can protest further, she presses her warm mouth against the damp fabric, tongue soaking through to taste your heady slick.

Fucking hell.

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest, the high amplifying everything. The heat of her mouth, the wet slide of her tongue, the glint in her eye as she devours you like a woman starved. 

“Wait, wait, can you breathe?” you gasp, stalling as your fingers card through her hair. You gently tug, trying to pull her away just enough to see her face. Sevika tilts her head up, licking her lips with her eyes half-lidded in bliss.

“Mhm. Now stop,” she mumbles, pouting as she pushes your hand aside to focus. And focused she is. Her lips wrap around your swollen clit, pulling soft whimpers from your throat as her tongue strokes you through the fabric.

You lift your shirt over your chest, exposing your tits. not just to watch her work but for her to see you too. The sight of your tits alone makes her groan against you, the vibration adding to overwhelming sensation.

If Sevika’s roommates walked in right now, they’d think they’d stepped into a porno. You’re practically sitting on her face, your high leaving you too sensitive, too reactive. You try to hold back, but fuck, the way her tongue lays flat for you to grind against, it’s overwhelming. She lets you use her, groaning because she loves every second of it.

One bad thing about when you’re high was that if you were to have sex, you came too quick and were far too sensitive than usual.

The final buck of your hip as you spilled in your underwear, soaking it as Sevika mouthed at it. Eyes rolled back to your skull, you find the dark tufts of Sevikas hair as you ground yourself. she flicks her tongue a bit as a way to soothe you, but it does the opposite, causing you to jerk away from her. 

“Ah—no more,” you murmur, lying horizontal on her chest, your legs numb and trembling. But Sevika’s hands are already at your hips, sliding your ruined panties off with a smirk that promises round two.

You roll over, watching her gulp the rest of her water before she climbs back into bed. She yanks the blanket off you (of course she does) and starts peeling off her own underwear.

Her smile grows, her hair messy and damp, half-up, half-down strands sticking to her skin. She doesn’t say anything as she adjusts you, moving your body to her liking until her cunt presses against yours. The slick heat of her clit catches on your folds, and you both whimper in unison.

“Holy fu—fuck, you’re so wet. You like this shit, don’t you?” Sevika groans against your lips, her voice low and rough, but her movements give her away. She’s trembling, losing herself in the mess of you, her swollen clit grinding against yours like she can’t help herself. It’s frantic uncoordinated, but it doesn’t matter. All you can focus on is the heat, the overwhelming feeling of her taking exactly what she needs.

You can’t even answer, just nodding dumbly as she kisses you again, her tongue sweeping into your mouth. The taste of her, weed and desperation, making you dizzy. Her hips stutter, and you moan against her lips, feeling yourself come down all over again.

“Sev—ah, slow down. I’m gonna come again,” you whimper, your fingers digging into her hip to try and steady her. But she’s too far gone, her pace frantic, her breath hot against your neck.

“It’s okay, fuck—just let me,” she gasps, her voice breaking as she buries her face in your shoulder. She sounds wrecked, her control slipping completely. Her arms tighten around you, her hands gripping your body like you’re the only thing holding her together.

Your orgasm hits hard and fast, ripping through you as you cry out her name. The sound is all it takes to send her over the edge. She chokes out a groan, her body shuddering against yours as she comes—sticky skin, hearts pounding, breaths tangling in the heavy air.

For a while, it’s quiet. The only sounds are your breathing and the faint rustle of sheets as you try to remember how to move. Sevika’s face is still tucked against your neck, her lips brushing against your skin as she exhales.

“You know you’re, like… really nasty,” you whisper, your voice breathless but teasing. A lazy smile tugs at your lips as you glance down at her.

She groans, lifting her head just enough to glare at you, though the flush on her cheeks gives her away. “We’re never smoking together again,” she mutters, but her lips twitch like she’s trying not to laugh.

“Sure,” you tease, too blissed out to care. You don’t even try to push her away when she shifts on top of you, her arms still holding you close. “As long as you get to have your way with me, I’m fine,” you murmur, your voice softer now as you brush your lips against hers. You can feel her smile before she kisses you again, this time slower, sweeter.

“Fuck, you’re mine,” she whispers against your lips, her voice low and possessive, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I hope so,” you reply, and it comes out like a promise.

a/n: can you tell i love writing about Sev? currently going through my drafts and revising them and so far this was fun to edit the most lol

[bloatedandalone04]

TikTok Trends

➪the one where drew is a little clueless in regards to your love for tiktok, and even more confused every time he finds himself thrown into another trend.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, drew being confused for 90% of this, mentions of smut, size difference, slightly younger reader (3 year age gap), there was going to be smut, but i am saving it for another fic.

Word Count: 3.2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Drew was laying on the king sized bed he shared with you, his sweatpant covered legs crossed as he lounged back on both his pillows and one of yours. His phone was in one of his hands, his thumb scrolling through the latest game results he missed last night when he was too busy fucking you into this very bed. 

He was oblivious to the way you were rummaging around in the dresser, though his eyes would occasionally flicker over to you as he scrolled. Tonight was date night, and he knew you would take a lot longer to get ready than he would, so he was staying in his sweats and hoodie until you were ready since he’d just throw something on and then be out the door within the same minute. You were being awfully quiet, and Drew was also oblivious to the way you had propped your phone up behind a picture frame, just out of view.

Drew’s free hand ran through his hair, his recent haircut making his scalp feel a little itchy, but he wasn’t complaining, because this haircut was what had you begging him to fuck you every night this week, so clearly it was working for you. 

“Hey, babe,” he murmured, not looking up from his phone. “Where do you want to go tonight? Anywhere you want, I don’t care, I just want to know if I should call in beforehand.”

You bit your lip as you adjusted your phone, your eyes shining with mischief as you moved away from the dresser. “I’m not sure,” you answered as you walked into the closet and grabbed the dark blue dress you were planning on wearing tonight. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

You had to hide your smile as you walked back into the bedroom and set the dress down on the bed next to Drew’s legs, and you had to ignore just how sexy he looked right now as you glanced over at your phone. 

Drew had never been one to be very active on social media in the two years you’ve been with him, so you knew for a fact that he would have no clue what you were about to spring on him. 

Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you bunched the material in your fingers before pausing, “Hey, baby,” you laughed, poking his knee as you swayed a bit on your feet. When Drew just let out a grunt, you continued, “Can you leave for a few minutes while I get dressed? I’ll be quick.”

You watched as Drew’s eyes flickered all over his phone’s screen before he hummed, moving to sit up. Just as his legs swung over the side of the bed, he seemed to have finally fully processed your words, because his eyes narrowed before he looked over at you. “Wait, what?” 

A laugh threatened to escape your mouth, but you managed to compose yourself before he could realize this was yet another trend he was currently being forced into. “Can you, like, get out for a sec? I need to get ready for tonight,” you asked again, gesturing to your shirt and sweats. 

One of his brows raised and he glanced down at your current outfit before looking over at your dress. “Uh, why?” he asked, sounding so genuinely confused, you almost cackled. “We live together, baby. I’ve seen you naked, like…a million times now.” 

You covered your mouth and crossed your arm over your chest as you tried to keep this going for as long as you could. “Just…please?”

Drew’s brows furrowed as he locked then set his phone down on the bed beside him, his fingers brushing against your thigh. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, reaching for your hand. His voice was so deep but so sweet right now, you felt yourself caving in already. “Tell me, baby.”

“It’s nothing,” you say, but your voice sounded unconvincing even to you. “I just don’t want you in here while I get changed.”

Drew narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the pillows once again, clearly making no move to get up and leave. “Babe, come on,” he mumbled, giving you a pointed look as you tried to keep up the act for a little longer, but he was the actor, not you. “We’ve lived together for half a year now. I’ve seen you take off clothes in front of me more times than I can count. What’s so different now?”

You had a sneaking suspicion that he was catching on, and you knew the act was pretty much up. Still, you tried to go for a little longer, “There’s no difference…” you trailed off, then saw the look of realization flash in his pretty blue eyes. 

“Oh, I get it,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked up at you. “This is another TikTok thing, isn’t it?” 

You furrowed your brows and shook your head, but he had caught you. “No,”

Drew grunted and nodded his head, “Uh huh, where’s your phone?” he asked, glancing around the bedroom as you tried to think of a way to salvage your prank. 

“It’s not a TikTok thing-”

“Come on, where is it?” he cut you off, his tone light and relieved as he now knew that nothing was wrong and this was just him falling for another trend going around on an app he didn’t even have installed. 

With a huff, you nodded towards the dresser, and Drew shifted a bit so he could see your well-hidden phone behind the picture frame. 

“I fucking knew it,” he laughed, rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned back again. “Why do I keep falling for these things?”

“Because you’re old and refuse to use social media,” you mumbled, reaching for your phone and ending the video. 

He scoffed from behind you, reaching over to wrap his hand around one of your thighs. “I’m only three years older than you, brat,” he muttered, pulling you towards him. “I’m not nearly old enough for you to call me that.” 

“Three and a half,” you hummed, your attention quickly slipping from your phone as you let him turn you around and pull you to stand in between his legs. Your free hand caressed his jaw, his stubble pricking your fingertips as you gazed down at him, “Can’t forget the half.”

Drew hummed, leaning in to press his face against the front of your shirt. “Mm, right,” he rasped, leaning back on the bed and pulling you with him so you are straddling his waist. “Can’t forget the half.”

You dropped your phone onto the bed next to his, both devices quickly being forgotten about as you braced your hands flat on the sheets on either side of his head, your lips finding his in a deep kiss that quickly turned into something a lot more heated. 

-

“You’re not doing it right,” you whined, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you walked towards your phone to restart the recording. 

After finding a trend that would actually involve Drew participating in it, you decided to give him a break from all the prank trends you pull on him and asked if he wanted to try this couple trend you saw all over your for you page. Surprisingly enough, he agreed to. You assumed he was probably tired of falling for the pranks all the time, so this way he could be fully aware of what was happening. 

With that being said, even though he was an amazing actor, he fucking sucked at following directions. 

“What do you mean I’m not doing it right?” he asked, holding his arms out as he watched you set your phone back up against the TV stand. “I’m picking you up, am I not? Is that not what I’m supposed to do here?”

You rolled your eyes and bit back a laugh as you stood back up straight and moved towards him. “No, you’re supposed to flip me upside down,” you said, “Did you even watch the video I sent you?” 

“I watch all the videos you send me,” he mumbled, glancing over at your phone before stepping closer to you. “Just tell me what to do, okay?”

You grinned and moved to stand in front of him, and you reached behind you to take Drew’s wrists in your hands. “Just hold me here,” you instructed, placing his big hands on your hips as you both faced the camera. “Then lift me and turn me upside down.” 

“That’s it?” he asked, giving your hips a teasing squeeze as he dipped his head down and pressed a firm kiss to your temple. “What if I drop you?”

You look over your shoulder at him and raise your brow, “Well, don’t,”

Drew laughed, the deep sound rumbling against your back as you looked at your phone. “Alright, ready?” he asked, and you nodded. Drew bent his knees slightly, ensuring he had a good grip on you, before he straightened back up again and easily lifted you off the ground. 

That was the easy part though, but after a few seconds, he managed to turn you upside down so your legs were by his shoulders and your head was by his knees. “Yay, baby!” you squealed, holding onto his arms tightly as he dangled you above the floor. 

Drew let out another deep laugh as he held you securely in place, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist. “Is this it?” 

“Yes,” you answer, helplessly swaying in his hold as you look at your phone from your upside down angle. “I hope it turned out well. I don’t want to do this again.”

“Why not?” Drew asked, locking his arms around your thighs as he swayed you even more, making another quiet squeal leave your lips. “Now that I know what to do, this is easy.” 

Your grip tightened on his arms as you held on for dear life, a soft whine escaping your mouth. “Drew,”

He laughed and stilled before managing to guide your legs down until you were upright again. “Alright,” he grinned, steadying you with his hands on your waist. “Are we good?”

You nodded and leaned into his touch for a few seconds before moving away to grab your phone. After ending the video, you clicked on it to make sure it came out okay, and as you did so, Drew came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“How’d it turn out?” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder as he glanced down at your phone as well. 

“Good,” you answered, playing the video and watching with a dumb smile on your face as your boyfriend effortlessly picked you up and managed to do the trend rather successfully. Turning your head, you pressed a quick kiss to his chin, “Thank you.”

Drew hummed, kissing you properly as his hands splayed across your belly. “‘Course,” he mumbled, kissing you again before looking back down at your phone. “You look so small, baby. Send that to me.”

You grinned and nodded as he stepped away from you and towards the doorway. “You could see it on my TikTok if you actually had the app,” you pointed out as you sat down on the couch. 

“Not happening,” he called over his shoulder before giving you a teasing smirk and leaving the room. 

As you watched the video again and matched it up with the song it would go with, you bit down on your lip, because Drew looked really hot in it, and it was extremely obvious how fit and strong he is since he lifted you up with ease. 

You could only imagine all the comments you’d get, and all of them would be girls thirsting over your boyfriend. 

-

The ‘calling your boyfriend friend names’ prank was all that was currently on your for you page on your TikTok, and you knew after watching the first one that you were going to do it to Drew. 

Your poor, unsuspecting boy who was really never safe as long as you had access to the app, or any app for that matter, because he was just too easy.

Drew was laying back on the bed, one arm propped behind his head as he browsed through various movies on Netflix, his gaze fixated on the TV that was mounted on the wall above the dresser. 

He looked so focused as he tried to find something to watch, and you knew he was looking for something that you would like since you and he had very different tastes when it came to movies. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. 

Almost. 

“Dude, just pick a movie already,” you laughed from your spot on your side of the bed, discreetly angling your phone to capture his entire upper body without making it look obvious. 

Drew’s head turned in your direction, one of his brows raising as his thumb paused on the remote. “I’m trying to,” he muttered, squinting his eyes at you, “Dude.”

You held in your snort and shook your head, looking back up at the TV. “I don’t care what we watch, man,” you mumbled and felt him shift next to you, but you kept your eyes locked on the screen. “Just pick something.”

The remote was set down on the bed between your body and his, and when you glanced up at him, he was softly glaring at you, “I will, once you call me by my actual name instead of dude or man,” 

You actually laughed, but this one fit in well, “Okay, Drew,”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groaned, moving towards you and dropping his head to your chest. He presses his face against your cleavage as you reach over and prop your phone up on the nightstand. “Call me what you always call me.”

You grinned as you draped your arms around his shoulders. “Aw, buddy,” 

Drew’s head had never snapped up faster than it did when you said that. “Why are you calling me that?” he asked, placing his hands flat against the bed on either side of your hips as he pushed himself back up so he was kneeling beside your still reclined form. “Baby, what’s going on?”

You pressed your lips together as you reached up and cradled his pretty face in your hands. “Nothing,” you answered, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. 

Drew gave you a skeptical look before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. His big hands found your hips as he deepened it, his tongue brushing against yours, and you returned his kiss like you always do. “Are you sure?” he murmured against your mouth, and you knew your knees would’ve buckled if you were standing up from how deep and sexy his voice is. 

But you couldn’t think about that right now, and you realized you would have to edit that intense kiss out of the video so TikTok didn’t flag you, which would suck. “I’m sure,” you confirmed, then fucked with him further, “Everything’s all good, pal.”

Drew gave you a look of disbelief as he pulled away and sat back on his knees again. “Pal? Did you seriously just call me pal?” he gaped at you, his brows drawn together in confusion and something that looked a lot like betrayal. “Babe, what the fuck did I do? I know you’re mad at me, you keep calling me all these random names. Tell me what I did.”

You laughed and shook your head, pushing yourself up so you were sitting in front of him. “You didn’t do anything, Drew,” you assured him, but could tell that your words had very little effect on him. “I promise.”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, moving back to his original spot on his side of the bed. “Then stop calling me dude or pal,” he muttered, picking the remote back up and lifting his arm so you could cuddle against his side. 

You actually did snort this time as you crawled over to him, “Okay, bro,” you mumbled as you slid under his arm, but as soon as the name left your lips, Drew was standing up from the bed and looking down at you with his hands on his hips. 

“Bro? Bro?” he echoed, “No, something is definitely wrong here. What is happening right now, Y/n? Are you breaking up with me or something?”

You let out a loud laugh as you rolled onto your side. “No,” you answered, shaking your head as you looked up at him. “I’m not breaking up with you, Drew. Why would I do that?”

He sounded a bit desperate now as he braced one knee on the edge of the bed and asked, “Then why are you calling me dude and bro and pal? You’ve never called me those names before,” he rambled, “That’s what you call a friend, baby, not your boyfriend.”

“I know,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked up at him, and after getting another look at his handsome, yet so obviously confused face, you caved. “That’s what the prank is, babe. I call you names I’d call a friend.”

Drew’s brows furrowed, then he was looking around the bed for your phone, and when he glanced at the nightstand, he let out a loud groan. “Oh for fucks sake,” he grunted, rubbing his hands over his face as you laughed and moved to retrieve your phone. “I thought we were breaking up or something. Why do I keep falling for this shit?” 

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Guys are just so easy,” you answered, “And unless you cheat on me or something, I’m never breaking up with you.”

Drew dropped his hands to his sides as he joined you back on the bed. “And I’m never cheating on you,” he rasped, straddling your thighs as he placed his hands on your waist. “But how many more times are you going to do this to me? This one was fucked up.”

You laughed as you ended the recording, then gasped when you felt how hot his skin was. “Drew,” you say with wide eyes, “You’re, like…sweating.”

“I know I am,” he said, his fingers pushing up your shirt as his hands ran along the skin of your stomach. “I told you, I thought you were breaking up with me. I was panicking.” 

You smiled up at him, letting him take your phone from you and toss it onto the end of the bed. “I would never,” you promised, and Drew wrapped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your hands up to rest on his chest as he gazed down at you with an intense stare. 

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, and it was clear that the hunt for a movie to watch was now postponed. His eyes were even darker when he pulled away, his nose bumping gently against yours. “I love you.”

You whimpered quietly as you slid your hands up into his hair. “I love you too,” 

Then he was pressing himself against you completely, and soon enough, you were sweating too.

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Deal Me In | LN4

Summary: What do you do when you're bored on a plane? Play strip poker, lose all your layers, and try not to combust as Lando can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.

LANDO NORRIS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The hum of the plane’s engines filled her ears as the small group lounged in plush seats. Y/n sat nestled between Oscar and Max, the remains of a half-eaten dessert table before them. She’d spent most of the evening quietly nursing a cup of hot chocolate and trying to ignore Lando, who now sat across from her, his curls slightly tousled from running his fingers through them all evening. Every so often, Lando would glance in her direction, his eyes crinkling with mischief, and her stomach would twist into knots.

“I’m bored,” Max Fewtrell groaned, slumping dramatically in his seat. “We need entertainment.”

“We’re on a private plane with unlimited snacks,” Oscar pointed out, not looking up from his phone. “How are you bored?”

“Let’s do something fun,” Sam chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eye as he stretched lazily. “Cards?” His tone carried an almost daring edge, like he was already plotting something outrageous.

“Poker?” Lando suggested, leaning forward with a grin.

“Strip poker,” Max countered, his grin widening. “Spice it up.”

Y/n’s cheeks heated instantly. “Strip poker? Really?”

“Why not?” Max said. “It’s just us. We’ll make it fair—you can take off something small like your hoodie or just pay cash. No pressure.”

She hesitated, glancing around. Lando’s eyes were on her, a teasing spark in them. “You in?” he asked, voice soft but challenging.

“Fine,” she relented, trying to appear nonchalant. What’s the worst that could happen?

As the cards were dealt, the tension in the cabin shifted. There was a buzz of excitement in the air that made her pulse race. Lando, turns out was terrible at poker. Absolutely, horrifically terrible. By the second hand, he was down his jacket. The third, his shirt. By the fifth, he was sitting in nothing but his boxers, his bare chest on full display.

“Lando, mate, how are you this bad?” Max laughed, nearly doubling over.

“Poker’s a strategy game,” Oscar chimed in smugly, adjusting his pristine hoodie. “Something he clearly lacks.”

“Shut up, Osc,” Lando shot back, throwing his cards onto the table with mock frustration.

Y/n couldn’t stop glancing at him, every peek sending her pulse racing. The way his muscles moved as he shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, the faint outline of his collarbone under the cabin lights, the hint of a smirk that tugged at his lips whenever he caught her looking—it was almost unbearable. Her crush was spinning out of control, he was so comfortable in his skin. How was he so nonchalant sitting there half-naked like that?

Sam had lost his socks and sweater, and Max was sitting shirtless, laughing at Lando’s misfortune. Oscar, however, sat fully clothed, a devious glint in his eye as he slid his winnings closer. He was playing them all, and they could do nothing to stop him.

“You’re a menace,” Sam muttered, glaring at Oscar as he folded yet another hand. “Do you plan on bankrupting us?”

“Maybe,” Oscar replied smoothly, his grin unrepentant. “But you’ll never know.”

“Y/n, your turn,” Oscar said, and she bit her lip, focusing on her cards. Her hoodie was already gone, leaving her in a fitted shirt and shorts. She’d never been more aware of how close Lando was sitting, their thighs brushing whenever one of them shifted. Each accidental touch sent electricity up her spine, her thoughts tumbling into dangerous territory.

Lando leaned over to peek at her cards, his shoulder brushing hers. “You’ve got this,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, her thoughts a chaotic mess of 'he’s so close' and 'does he even realize what he’s doing to me?'

The closeness was overwhelming. She caught the faint scent of his cologne, something subtle but undeniably him, and it left her dizzy. Her fingers fumbled on her cards, the tips of her ears burning as his gaze lingered a moment too long.

She lost the hand, of course. How could she focus with Lando practically pressed against her?

“Tough luck,” he teased, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Maybe next round.”

She tried to glare at him but failed miserably, her lips quirking despite herself. “Maybe if someone wasn’t distracting me.”

“Oh, it’s my fault now?” he shot back, his grin widening. His knee bumped hers under the table, lingering just a second too long. Her skin tingled where they touched, the casual intimacy making her head spin. He shifted slightly and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, placed his hand on her exposed thigh. The warmth of his palm seeped through her skin, igniting a spark that made her breath hitch. He didn’t move it, didn’t acknowledge it, and yet the sensation was impossible to ignore.

Her mind raced, thoughts bouncing between 'is this intentional?' and 'why do I like this?' Her heart thudded wildly as she tried to focus on the game, but his touch was all she could think about. Every move of her hand, every glance at her cards, every time he leaned closer—she was hyper-aware of his presence, of his hand casually resting on her leg like it belonged there.

As the game continued, Y/n found herself hyper-focused on Lando. The way he laughed—loud and unrestrained—when Max lost his watch in a side bet. The way his fingers drummed against the table when he was thinking. The way his eyes would dart to her, softening in a way that made her feel like the only person in the room. Every movement, every laugh, every word felt amplified.

By the time they called it quits, Lando was down to his boxers, and Y/n was fighting the urge to combust. The sight of him was doing things to her sanity. She stood to stretch, her shirt riding up slightly, and she caught Lando’s gaze flickering to her exposed skin. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she quickly tugged it back down, her heart racing at the thought that he’d noticed.

“Well, that was fun,” Max declared, tossing his cards on the table dramatically.

"Fun?" Sam scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "It was brutal. I lost everything but my dignity."

"Dignity?" Oscar quipped, leaning back smugly. "I didn’t know you had any left after that last round."

Sam shot him a glare, while Max burst out laughing. "You’re just mad because the kid hustled you," Max teased, pointing a finger at Sam. "Admit it, Oscar’s the real MVP of this game."

“More like the real pain in my ass,” Sam muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.

“Hey, don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Oscar said with a grin, scooping up the cards like a seasoned dealer. "Speaking of which, anyone want a rematch?"

“No way,” Lando groaned, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve got nothing left to lose. Literally."

"You’re still wearing your boxers," Max pointed out with a sly grin. "I mean, if you’re up for it…"

Lando threw a pillow at him. "Not a chance, mate."

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at their antics, the tension from the game easing into lighthearted banter. Sam stretched with an exaggerated yawn. "Alright, I’m calling it. I need sleep after this emotional rollercoaster."

As Sam and Max bickered playfully on their way to the back of the plane, Oscar leaned over to Y/n with a conspiratorial grin. "Not bad for your first game. You almost didn’t lose everything."

"Almost," she replied, rolling her eyes, though her smile gave her away. Oscar winked, then retreated back to his own seat, leaving her alone with Lando.

Y/n sank back into her seat, exhaustion and adrenaline making her head spin. Lando plopped down beside her, his knee brushing hers again. This time, neither of them moved away. The space between them felt charged.

“You’re quiet,” Lando said, his voice low enough that only she could hear. His tone was so gentle, so intimate, it sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath, but her heart hammered against her ribs. The way his voice wrapped around her name, the way it felt like they were the only two people in the world—it was overwhelming.

Lando tilted his head, studying her with that easy, unreadable expression that always made her chest feel tight. “What are your plans for the break?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, the hum of the plane’s engines only amplifying how intimate it felt.

Y/n shrugged, trying to sound casual despite her pulse hammering. “Nothing special. Probably just rot in bed and catch up on sleep,” she replied, offering a small laugh.

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling and warm. “Solid plan,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Honestly, same. Once I get through some work, I’m thinking of crashing for a few days. Might actually try doing nothing for once.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but her words caught in her throat as his hand reached out toward her. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from her face, the touch so light it almost tickled, leaving a faint warmth in its wake. Her breath hitched, and her heart skipped a beat as his thumb lingered, trailing down to the edge of her ear.

He stopped there, thumbing at the small earring she’d forgotten she was even wearing, his eyes flickering between it and her face. A small smile tugged at his lips, like he’d found some secret he wasn’t planning to share. “This is pretty,” he murmured, his voice low, intimate.

Her throat went dry. She wanted to say something—anything—but all she managed was a quiet, “Oh, uh… thanks.”

He dropped his hand and leaned back, as if the moment hadn’t completely knocked the wind out of her. “So,” he said, seamlessly changing the subject, “what’s fun to do in London? I’m staying there in December for a bit before heading back to Monaco.”

It took her a second to process the words, her mind still stuck on the ghost of his touch. “Oh, uh, there’s… there’s a lot,” she said quickly, eager to cover her awkward pause. “Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park is great for Christmas stuff, and there are the lights on Oxford Street. Ice skating at Somerset House is really popular too. Oh, and the Southbank Christmas markets—you’d love those.”

Lando smiled, the kind of smile that made her knees feel weak, even though she was sitting. “You really know all the good spots,” he said, his voice softer now, almost teasing. “Maybe you should show me around.”

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She managed a weak laugh, trying to brush off the tension. “What, like a date?”

His smile turned into a grin, slow and deliberate. “Exactly,” he said without hesitation, his voice dropping just slightly. “But only if you want it to be.”

Y/n’s brain short-circuited. His words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. Was he serious? Did he mean that the way it sounded?

She opened her mouth to respond, but her words tangled together in a mess of vowels and half-formed thoughts. “I-I—well, I don’t—uh…”

His hand moved again, and her breath hitched as he rested it lightly on her thigh. His thumb began tracing slow, deliberate circles, the motion so casual yet so maddeningly distracting that her entire focus narrowed to the warmth of his touch.

He didn’t rush her. His gaze stayed locked on hers, steady and patient, the weight of his hand grounding her even as her mind spiraled.

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing, cutting through her spiraling thoughts. “It’s just me. No pressure. But… I’d really like to take you out. Properly.”

Her pulse was racing, her skin tingling where his thumb continued its slow, lazy circles. Was this actually happening? Was he really asking her out? And why did his touch feel so good? like he already knew what made her heart skip and her breath hitch?

She nodded, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement, but it was enough. A grin spread across Lando’s face, and his thumb stilled, pressing gently into her thigh for just a moment before he pulled his hand away.

“That’s settled then,” he said, his tone light but undeniably pleased.

The moment felt like it should have ended there, but then he shivered dramatically, crossing his arms with a loud sigh. “Man, it’s freezing in here,” he complained, his voice breaking the tension like a knife through butter.

She blinked, startled by the sudden change, and then he was leaning back, shouting toward the rear of the plane. “Max! Throw me your hoodie, mate!”

“What happened to yours?” Max called back, clearly annoyed.

“Lost it to poker!” Lando replied, unapologetic. “Now, come on, be a bro!”

With an exaggerated groan, Max hurled a hoodie forward. Lando caught it one-handed, pulling it over his head with a satisfied grin. “Thanks, mate,” he said cheerfully.

Before she could process what had just happened, Lando leaned in close again, the sudden proximity making her stomach flip. He pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to her cheek, the warmth of his lips lingering like a brand.

"Night, beautiful," he murmured, his voice a smooth caress that made her breath hitch.

And then he leaned back, resting his head against the seat with an exaggerated sigh. Within moments, his eyes drifted shut, his breathing evening out as he started to doze.

Y/n sat frozen, her hand instinctively lifting to touch the spot on her cheek where his lips had been. Her thoughts spiraled out of control, Did that just happen? Is this a dream? Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear the others laughing and bickering in the background.

She snuck a glance at him, his face now peaceful in sleep, his hair messy against the back of the seat. Even asleep, he was unfairly attractive. Her mind replayed every moment—the warmth of his hand on her thigh, the teasing way he’d said “beautiful,” the feel of his lips against her skin—and she was certain she wasn’t going to survive the rest of the flight without combusting. What the hell just happened? she thought, pressing her lips together to hide the smile threatening to break free.

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Wearing His Clothes

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: I haven't done one of these in a while! This one was requested by the lovely @luci-in-trenchcoats. 💜

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff, spiciness/implied smut

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes.

Dean Winchester

Ugh, what a cocky SOB. 😆 (And yet, not the cockiest of them all.)

You've been doing it for weeks now, without comment from him.

But every time he sees you in one of his undershirts, getting ready for bed, it's always accompanied by a little once-over. A curve of his lips. A smirk, if you will.

He likes the look of you.

He likes that you're his.

And he likes the fact that you feel comfortable enough to steal his clothes.

He also likes welcoming you into bed next to him, with a hand running up your back, or venturing under whatever undershirt you've decided to slip on to feel the warmth of your skin.

"'S this mine?" he asks. You give him a quirking smile.

"You know it is," you say, with playful challenge.

Dean accepts that with a hum and leans in for a kiss as payment.

Sometimes that one stolen kiss leads to another, simmering with heat. And he’ll take great pleasure in taking back his shirt, casting it to the floor and rolling you underneath him on the bed.

But it doesn't stop at his undershirts. You steal his plaid ones if you want something to comfortably drown in when you're doing research, or just lounging in the bunker. The material is soft from several hundred washes. (The red and black one is one of your favorites.)

Rare though it is for him to wear hoodies, it's rarer still, because Dean can never even find one in his side of the dresser.

That's because you're keeping it hostage on your side, buried under your lingerie. (Even if he tried to find the hoodie, odds are he’ll get distracted.)

It gets to the point where he can hardly find anything of his.

His brows furrow as he rucks through his drawers for something clean to wear, while clad in only his most threadbare sweatpants.

"Damn it, woman. Where are my shirts?" he grouses.

You bite your lip and pretend to keep reading your book. You're already safe in bed, covered up to your chest by the blankets.

"I don't know. Have you done your laundry?" you ask, smiling to yourself. Dean catches you, with a suspicious brow raise.

He climbs into bed and snatches the covers away from you. You yelp at the suddenness and try to grab at them, but it's too late.

He discovers that you're wearing one of his newer shirts, which he had to buy to replace the ones he just can't seem to find.

"Are you kidding me? This is Theft in the First goddamn Degree!" he exclaims, even though he's close to laughing at the way you're already giggling. He manages to pin you underneath him on the bed, and he has half a mind to take this shirt back as well, by whatever means necessary.

And yes, tickling is one of those means.

"Sweetheart, for the love of God. Why do you keep taking my shit?" he asks, in a way that's half-serious in his frustration, but also half-teasing.

You shrug shamelessly, still smiling. You run your hands up his bare arms and shoulders, and back down his chest.

"I don't know. It's comfortable," you say. But your eyes lower as your face begins to warm with a blush. "Makes me feel safe...like you're always with me."

At that, the tension in Dean's shoulders eases. His smile can't help but soften around the edges as he looks down on you, now with fondness. After a while, he lets out a deep sigh.

"All right," he says.

You grin, because you know he's given up. You lean up for a kiss that successfully distracts him.

Dean still gets annoyed sometimes when he can't find a specific item of clothing in his drawer, but now, all he has to do is go over to your side of the dresser.

There he knows he'll eventually find what he's looking for.

Beau Arlen

Heh, in this episode of “Whose Hat is it Anyway”...

Beau's wardrobe reminds you of a cowboy in modern times.

Lots of browns and beiges, lots of slacks and buttoned-down shirts tucked in with an army of belts to choose from (even though the man only owns a few pairs of boots). Not to mention a slew of jackets that often pull the look together.

But being that he's new to Montana (specifically, Montana winters), you like to buy him sweaters. Cable-knits and soft ones in earth tones that you think bring out his eyes.

Beau accepts whatever you get him and graciously wears them. He trusts your judgment on what looks good on him, and he appreciates the way you think of him.

It's just one of those ways, however small, that you show that you care and that you're looking out for him.

One night while he's working late, however, you find yourself trying to reorganize the closet. The man is "organized chaos" at best, and you find one of his sweaters on the floor. It's a nice burgundy one that you bought him recently.

Ooh, so soft, you think, while feeling the fabric between your fingers.

You don't know what possesses you, but you decide to slip out of your pajamas and try it on yourself.

SO damn soft, you realize, as you practically drown in the sweater. It hangs about to mid-thigh.

Then you see one of his beige Stetsons hanging on the wall. A sneaking smile curves your lips, before you slip on his hat.

To complete the ensemble, you dig into the recesses of your closet and find a pair of your old cowboy boots. You go out into the bedroom and check yourself out in the mirror with a growing smirk.

"Hey there, darlin'," you try to impersonate your boyfriend's subtle Texan twang, and even his mannerisms by winking at yourself, tipping the hat forward.

You giggle at your own silliness in this moment, but alone in your own house, who freakin' cares? You should feel free to dance naked through the whole damn place if you feel like it.

So you spin on your heel and do a little twirl in your boots.

"Who's the sheriff now, huh?" You mime a pair of guns with your hands and shoot at your reflection. "Psh, psh!"

But that's when you catch sight of one Beau Arlen, leaning against the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. An amused grin is plastered to his face.

You freeze in shock, still with your "gun hands" held up.

"Oh, don't stop the show on my account," Beau says slyly. He gestures at you. "Please, continue."

Your hot blush spreads from your cheeks and quickly begins to travel down your neck. "Uh...I was just...you know, cleaning the closet. You're very messy, you know!"

Beau snorts and draws closer. Those green eyes of his take in the full sight of you, down your bare thighs and cowboy boots, and back up to your embarrassed face. You bite your bottom lip on reflex.

"You know, I like what you got goin' on here," he says, waving a hand down your form. "But it's just...it's missing something."

He takes his badge with the gold star off his belt and pins it to your sweater.

"There you go. Perfect fit," he says, even as his hand slides up the slope of your back. You find yourself pulled further into his orbit as you try (and fail) to stamp down a smile.

"You're late, you know," you remind him. Beau bows his head and presses a kiss into your neck. You feel his smirk there.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff. Gonna arrest me, or let me off with a warning?" he teases. His other hand comes up to adjust the hat on your head. You smirk and cling to his arms over his dark brown jacket. It's one of his nicer ones.

"I think I can let you off," you play along. You lean up to skim your lips across his cheek, and closer to his ear. "But only for good behavior."

He has to chuckle then. "I can accept those terms..."

Beau's hands slip under your stolen sweater and begin to slide it up your body, inch by inch.

"Though I'm gonna need you to keep the boots on," he says lowly, just before he claims you with a searing kiss.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, here we go. 😅

As with most things, it's a point of pride for Ben.

He'd prefer you be too fucked out to move, let alone put on clothes after he's finished with you.

On the rare occasion that your body doesn't feel too much like warm molasses after a few hot rounds with your boyfriend, you like to at least grab one of his discarded shirts to cover yourself.

If he still has energy, he'll take that as a challenge. He'll try to slip his hands underneath whatever shirt you've found and divest you of it, so he can start devouring you again.

However. Ben does like seeing you in his clothes, in a possessive, claiming way.

There are days when you just want to be swallowed up in one of his large, comfortable shirts as you lounge about the house.

Ben sometimes watches you putter around, cleaning, working, cooking, reading, or watching TV in nothing but his clothes. He wonders if you're even wearing panties. You could be bare faced with a severe case of bed head, but his eyes will still occasionally follow you.

His expression doesn't reveal too much, but he likes it. (And because you know him, you know it too.)

Maybe he'll catch you as you pass by, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You startle with a yelp, but then you grab onto his arms and smile.

"Can I help you, sir?" you tease.

"Think you can just walk by me, looking sexy as fuck?" he remarks. He steals a slow, thorough kiss. You cup his face and bring him back in for more, tenderly stroking his cheek.

"You know why I like wearing your stuff?" you ask. Your smile hints at teasing.

Ben arches a brow. "Why?"

"Because it keeps you looking," you reply. And you reach a hand around to slap his ass, for good measure.

Then you saunter away from him to get back to what you were doing.

Or at least, you try to.

Ben grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him, back into the cage of his arms, where he falls back into the trap you've so often laid. And he finishes what you started.

AN: Well, then. 😂 I hope you guys enjoy this! Who had your favorite reaction: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 😘

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean, Beau + Soldier Boy Tag List (Part 1)

@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @rizlowwritessortof @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky

@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

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@xxlaynaxx @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @roseblue373

@lacilou @jackles010378 @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[chrissturnsfav]

⋆.˚✮ singer!reader shows rapper!chris how much she liked his lyrics about her

it’s late—too late, really—but that’s when chris does his best work. the soft glow of led lights lines the walls, bouncing off his chain and casting a blue sheen over his focused face. chris leans back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, watching the track play on the monitor in front of him. a faint bassline thumps through the speakers, followed by his smooth, rhythmic flow.

next to him on a chair, you lounge with your legs crossed, your baby pink nails tapping rhythmically on your thigh as you listen closely.

you've been known for your own music—sugary pop with catchy hooks and infectious beats. tonight, though, you're there just for him, in his oversized hoodie and sparkly pink slides, your hair pulled up in a high ponytail.

there’s a hunger in his voice as he raps that wasn’t there before, something raw. the verses hit hard, the lyrics sharper than usual. you can tell he’s put more of himself into this one.

then, a certain line drops—one that catches you completely off guard. his voice lowers just a bit, smooth but unmistakably suggestive, "keep ya tits around cause they nice t'look at", you feel a flush creep up your neck, unable to hide your reaction, as the implication lands squarely between you two.

soon enough, the track ends, the beat fading into silence. chris raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by the look on your face. “didn’t think you’d catch that line, huh?” he says, smirking a little.

a faint smile tugs at your glossy lips, “oh, i caught it,” you say, folding your arms with a sly grin. “got a lot of nerve talking about me like that on a track.”

he chuckles, pushing his chair away from the desk and crossing the short distance between you two. “yeah? thought y'might like it,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave.

you try to keep it cool, rolling your eyes, but the tension is thick, and he can tell you’re a little thrown. he leans in, one hand resting on the back of the chair beside you, the chair he's sitting in now between your legs.

“didn’t mean t'shock you,” he teases, his face close to yours now. “but i meant it. got pretty tits ma," chris grins, running his tongue over his teeth like he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

"i really liked it. really bold of you," you say back quietly, his nose brushing against your own and you feel yourself rushing with desire already with a small smirk on your plump lips.

"mm, yeah?" he taunts, his hand moving to rest on your upper thigh, "wanna show me how much y'liked that?"

your smirk grows and you nod your head, bringing your face closer to chris' to brush your lips against his. "i do," you mutter, your voice hoarse with arousal.

"get on those knees f'me then," he says demandingly, his blue eyes glimmering with lust as his dick grows beneath his jeans.

you waste no time in doing what he says, pushing yourself off the chair to get on your knees in front of chris. he smirks wickedly down at you as you look up at him with wide doe eyes, sparkling beneath the blue led lights.

he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, one of his hands slowly gripping your jaw while his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, "gonna jus' stare up at me or y'gonna do sum'n?" he mumbles.

you smirk up at him softly, shifting your eyes to his lap as you undo his belt before unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.

chris lifts his hips up for you, allowing you to pull his boxers and jeans down to a necessary spot just enough to free his rock hardness out that's already dripping with precum.

you look up at him seductively, one of his hands moving behind your head and massaging your soft hair with a smirk of anticipation on his lips.

you spit in your hand, wrapping it around his base and he exhales in arousal. you then lick a long stripe from his base to the tip, your dirty eye contact with him never ceasing.

"yeah, keep those pretty eyes on me ma," he mumbles, his voice raspy with desire as you nod.

you wrap your lips into an 'o' shape, taking just his tip into your mouth before swirling your tongue around it. chris grunts lowly, gripping your hair tightly as you kitty lick his sensitive tip.

you use your other hand to slowly move your hand up and down him, seeing chris get impatient at your painfully slow pace. he grunts as he speaks, "c'mon, jus’ take it. show me how much y'loved that verse mama."

his fingers tangle your through hair, gripping hard at the back as he pushes you further down on his cock. you gag a little when he hits the back of your throat so quickly.

you give into his impatient attitude, starting to quickly move your head up and down on him, your tongue swirling all around his lengthy, hot dick as drool seeps past your plush lips.

“yeaaah there ya go baby, jus' like that, my fuckin' filthy girl," he mutters, continuing to push your head.

you gag on him again, coughing around him and he chuckles darkly through breathless pants, his grip around your hair loosening a bit to let you catch your breath, "c'mooon you can take it. you loved the song so much didn't ya? show me ma, c'mon i know you can."

you nod, flickering your eyes pricked with tears up to his face and he smirks, biting his bottom lip when you move your head again. your lips are stretched around his girthy cock, drool pooling at his base and dribbled onto your chin as you continue.

your hand moves at an ungodly pace, jerking whatever couldn't fit in your mouth as you continue to suck his cock like it's the best popsicle you've ever tasted.

chris' smirk deepens at this as he groans, biting his bottom lip and gripping your hair tightly again at the immense pleasure, "look at you, so pretty. always a fuckin' droolin' mess on my cock," he grunts. "now, lemme see those pretty tits i was talkin' 'bout."

you use your other hand to pull the hoodie up, bunching it at your neck while chris' free hand moves to squeeze your plump tit with a hiss of pleasure as your mouth continues moving vigorously up and down his wet dick.

"there they are, such pretty tits my girl's got, so pretty 'n perfect," chris groans, his hips involuntarily thrusting up into your mouth again which you gag at, making him moan quietly.

his fingers pinch at your nipple, making you moan around his cock. the vibration sends a shiver through his body as he grunts, beginning to push your head down again as he grows close.

"jesus—fuck m'so close, keep goin' f'me...my good girl, takin' my cock like that," chris groans, hissing in pleasure through deep pants. his hips begin thrusting up into your mouth as you gag and moan around him.

he moans under his breath, breathing heavily as he squeezes your tit hard, fingers tangled in your hair, "yeah, jus' like that, doin' so good, lookin' so pretty wit' those lips wrapped around my cock."

chris' thrusts into your mouth grow erratic when the knot in his stomach tightens, leaving you whimpering and gasping around him. drool drips down your chin, bubbling around your lips as you repeatedly gag, "shit," he grunts.

with one final thrust into your stretched out mouth, his warm cum shoots inside. his eyes roll back, his grip on your hair and boob tight as he throws his head back with a low grunt.

chris pants, coming down from the high before you pull your mouth off of him and catch your breath, wiping your messy mouth with the back of your hand with his load still on your tongue.

he nods at you, "open," he says between breaths. you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show his hot and white seed on it.

chris smirks, humming out a soft chuckle before he speaks, "mhm, now swallow it."

you close your mouth and he watches your throat bob as you swallow every drop. he nods in satisfaction, his smirk deepening before he pats your cheek, "good girl."

you smirk cheekily as you stand up and watch him pull his boxers and jeans back up, "did that answer your question?" you say with a giggle.

chris scoffs, standing up from the chair and rebuckling his belt while he smirks at you, "do i even need t'answer that?”

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: chris rapping in the new video made me go feral. like he sounded so good i'm being dead honest. kinda feel like it could've been better cuz i got a lil lazy lol butttt i hope you guys loved thissss!!

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[hyunsvngs]

𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞-𝐚-𝐡𝐨𝐞! - spiderman!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 11.1k

cw: han jisung is spiderman, a brief attack of an alien in school, both characters are 18+ (legal) but are intended to be in high school, friends to lovers, jisung calling mc baby at any given moment

synopsis: you’re obsessed with spiderman, but after a certain event takes place, you become convinced your best friend and spiderman are the same person.

a/n: after a long wait… HEHE smut warnings under the cut and as usual 18+ MDNI!!!!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: brief mention of masturbation (both), oral (fem!rec), slightly switchy both parties, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, loss of virginity (both), cumswapping, relatively tame given that its me

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re intrigued.

Interested seemed like too little of a word to use for how you feel whenever you see the latest news report. In a world full of superhuman serums and bulletproof skin, he is still intriguing. Maths homework could be ignored, as far as you’re concerned - and that’s bold for you, because you love maths. You wonder if he likes maths, too.

Every night at 6pm sharp, you settle in front of the television and wait for the news. Spiderman, the hero in question, is always up to something. He loves shooting his webs across the tallest skyscrapers in the city, dangling from them precariously without a care before he lets out a loud, earth-shattering giggle and beats the newest bad-guy that your world has attracted. You always wince at the reports, wondering just how he healed from the injuries he must sustain. It had to be down to the spider venom, you supposed.

“He’s dangerous,” Your dad huffs. He’s lounging on his normal armchair, peeling leather be damned, munching on a bag of crisps. You grimace at his crisp covered digits motioning towards the television. You love your dad, really, and your mum - you just always differed in opinions when it came to Spiderman. He was so fucking cool, and you seriously feel like a child saying that all of the time, despite your best friend Jisung telling you that we all have our interests. “I mean, he’s putting normal civilians in danger. Friendly neighbourhood Spiderman my ass.”

“Honey,” Your mother admonishes, digging through her own bag of crisps. You briefly consider why you haven’t been offered one. They look tasty, when your father isn’t rubbing luminous orange dust onto his previously crisp white shirt. “You know she doesn’t like it when you say bad things about him. He- what was the word again, baby?”

“He intrigues me,” You mumble, pretending to erase equations from your homework. Your cheeks blaze crimson when your mother hums in agreement, nodding triumphantly to your father. You wish you could be as sassy as her sometimes. You’re more timid, hiding behind oversized hoodies and Jisung. He is a lot more confident than you, more loud and exuberant - you suppose that’s why he had adopted you as his all those years ago.

Your mother had been best friends with Jisung’s aunt, Sohee. She’s just like Jisung, zipping around the place at an insane pace to offer you snacks and drinks at every second. When you and Jisung had first met in preschool, you’d been drawing patterns in the mud with your grubby little fingers, hiding from the bullies. He’d criticised your drawing. He helped you fix it, though, chubby cheeks puffing out with a grin when it was good enough for his taste. Looking back now, that behaviour was so Jisung, but your mother had been delighted to find out that you’d already met her best friend’s son.

It had been easy becoming friends with him after that. Every day, he’d drag you by your wrist and take you to the yard, insisting on doing your co-operative drawings together. The teachers had a fit everyday on the state of you two by the end of your break, but your mothers had loved it, taking a million and one pictures a second. He stuck up for you both to the teachers, and then he stuck up for you to the bullies and it was like you’d known each other since birth. Inseparable at the hip, you’d been glued together throughout preschool, primary school and now high school - it doesn’t look like you’re getting rid of him anytime soon, either. You’d applied for the same colleges.

You don’t particularly want to be rid of him anyway. He’s alright, really, and you had a bit of a girly, high school crush on him. You would rather jump off of a building like Spiderman sans the webs if anyone found out.

Another thing Jisung is good for is listening to your rants. He waits for your call every night after the news had been on, and you clamber on your bed obediently after the report finishes to press on his contact.

“Jisung!” You squeal. There’s a lot of feedback on his end, and you hear a low ‘shit, fuck, oops, oh God’, until there’s a loud thud and he giggles, chiming through your tinny phone speakers. “... Ji? Are you okay?”

“Yep, sorry, baby,” He sounds out of breath, but you smile when he speaks anyway. Whenever he calls you baby, his designated nickname for you, it makes your heart flutter and you have to grimace to ignore it. His face pops into the little square designated to him, his cheeks blushing pink and round eyes wide. His hair is slightly damp, from what you’re not sure - but he looks cute. “I just got home. I was- I was running some errands for my aunt.”

“God, she’s got you running like crazy lately,” You mumble, still jotting down numbers on your homework. It’s taken you hours, but you always get distracted on nights like this. “Did you see it?”

Jisung hums, and then you hear him groan. He’s stretching, slightly toned honey-skinned arms appearing above his head in the plain oversized t-shirt he’s wearing. You try not to stare. “Did I see what?”

“The- the news, Sungie,” You feel shy mentioning it so outright. It is a weird interest, a weird thing to be obsessed with - Jisung often reassures you that it really isn’t, and his anime obsession was a lot worse. It was. You sigh, clearing your throat. “Spiderman. He was- he was super cool tonight.”

“Ooh, was he?” Jisung teases, chuckling when you groan in protest. “I’m only playing with you, baby. I saw it. He was super cool, wasn’t he?”

“Ha-ha, super cool, ‘cause he’s a superhero. You’re funny.”

“That’s why you keep me around,” Jisung chirps. “Hey, have you done the maths homework? I haven’t had time, because of the errands, y’know.”

“Hmm, yeah, I’m almost finished,” You aren’t. You’re far from it, really, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I can let you copy it tomorrow morning, before class.”

“No, that’s alright, baby. We can just cross-check our answers tomorrow,” His voice sounds tired, but you don’t comment. It’s better not to question Jisung when he’s like this.

His aunt has him doing a lot these days. You haven’t wanted to ask about it because you know it must be tough for her to look after Jisung since his parents passed, especially when Jisung is always going at full speed and is probably seconds away from giving his aunt a heart attack. He was always clumsy as a child, too, snapping his glasses in half and having a few broken bones to tell long stories about. He always means well, but sometimes you wish that he had something else to get his energy out of his system rather than stressing his aunt out.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Jisung, surely you know who Spiderman is, like, underneath the mask,” Seungmin quips through a mouthful of dry, government regulated school food. “You spent all that time with Bang Chan in the internship.”

Seungmin is a lanky boy that just came along one day and decided to be yours and Jisung’s friend. With him, he brought a younger, smiley guy named Jeongin, and Jeongin brought Felix. Felix is just Felix - nothing else can describe him. Before long, you’d found yourself in a de facto group of misfits that you weren’t even sure you could call friends. Apart from Jisung, of course.

Jisung simply raises an eyebrow in response to Seungmin. “I mean, sure. I met Mr Bang a few times, but I never met Spiderman. Not out of his suit, anyway.”

You gasp. Jeongin startles from the nap he was taking on the cafeteria table, raising his head to look at you angrily. Felix pushes his head back down from the hood on his jumper and Jeongin immediately falls back to sleep. “You met him in his suit?”

“Well, yeah,” Jisung shrugs. When he turns to look at you, your mouth is agape, feeling slightly betrayed. Jisung shoves another spoonful of cheese - was it really cheese? - pasta into his mouth, and then he’s sighing. “It’s not a big deal, baby. If I really met him, the real him, you’d be the first to know. I promise.”

“You still got that fat crush on Spiderman?” Felix chirps. You meet his amused gaze with your own steely glare, pouting over your packed lunch.

“It’s not a crush-”

“It’s an interest,” Jisung clarifies for you, and you smile. He’s always jumping to your defence like that. You bite into an apple, savouring the crisp, fruity taste on your tongue, and then the bell rings. Sighing, you watch as the boys around you get up - including Jeongin, fox like eyes bleary from sleep - and swing their bags on their shoulders.

“I’ll see you later,” You murmur to Jisung, who throws his arm around your waist in a quick hug. “Enjoy English.”

Right. You and Jisung didn’t have the same classes. He has English now, and you have chemistry, which is probably your least favourite of all classes. You just weren’t a fan of the whole blowing shit up scenario, unlike Jeongin was, and the boy trundles behind you towards your chemistry class.

The class is boring. The teacher drones on and on about some experiment you couldn’t care less about, and you pretend to care. You’re taking notes, sure, ever the diligent student - but you can’t get anything other than Spiderman out of your mind. Jisung met him, and didn’t tell you, and who even is this guy? You’d love to know. You’d love to just see him, even once, just to be able to tell the story.

A massive crash stops the teacher’s speech. He turns to the door, confused, and the students do the same. You do too, furrowed eyebrows staring at the door. Another crash causes people to begin to rise, and the teacher starts ushering everyone out of the class to the closest exit route. You’re frozen in confusion and fear, pencil halted in your fingers, even as another noise makes the teacher run out behind the class.

It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re still sitting in your seat, eyes wide and heart racing. Then, you spring up to follow the rest of your cohort, sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor as you run to the door. Swinging it open, you stick your head out the door and look around, trying to see if the coast is clear. With a planet full of interdimensional attacks, you can’t be sure, and looking left leads you to see a scaly, large animal type of thing. You squeak, startled, and immediately retreat into the class before it notices you. What the fuck do you do? What are you meant to do?

The whole room begins to shake, and you have a feeling the creature’s getting closer. Beakers are thrown to the floor from the vibration ringing throughout the room, glass shattering loudly, and you feel like you’re about to scream, or cry, or run, and you can’t run.

Doing the only thing you can think of, you cower to the floor, hiding underneath a table donned in smashed beakers. You’re curled up in a ball, watching students standing outside murmuring and discussing their own safety, and then the shaking stops.

The door swings open. Everything outside the classroom is too intimidating, items being thrown everywhere, and you can’t even bring your legs to move with how badly they’re shaking. Who’s just walked in? You pray for Jisung. You pray for someone who’s going to help you hide, someone who’s going to keep you safe, and then-

A masked face pops underneath the table. He’s lithe, slender, but the tight red and dark blue suit highlights the hint of abs and sculpted biceps on his body. Holy fucking shit. Your eyes widen. Spiderman is in your school.

“Are you okay?” His voice is deep, but it sounds almost like someone putting on a deeper voice to hide their identity. You nod hesitantly, and then he’s extending a gloved hand towards you, pulling you out from underneath the table. You’re unable to speak. Once you’re standing in front of him, you notice he’s around a head or so taller than you, but definitely not as tall as you thought he’d be. He sighs, chest heaving with panic. You suppose it must be pretty tough work fighting aliens from outer space. “I’ve webbed him up for now, but it won’t hold much longer. Go- please, go and run. Please, anywhere, just- go and hide, or run.”

“I-I-”

“Promise me, b- um, you. I can’t let you get hurt.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- Yes, I promise, I’m going to- I’ll go, thank you, thank you-”

“Wait, no!” He shouts, rubbing his temples - or at least, you’d imagine he was but he’s just rubbing the mask in frustration. You watch as he bounds over to the window, kicking it open, and the students outside turn to the classroom in awe. You’re rooted in place, as if vines are circling your ankles and securing you to the floor, mouth agape. You wait for him to give you further directions, and you gasp when he runs back over to you, picking you up and carrying you over to the window. You feel light as a feather, and all you can think is how he’s even carrying this amount of strength in that small body. “Too risky. Outside.”

“O-Outside?” You stammer, cheeks bright red, and he nods. He leans to place you out of the window, delicately placing you on your feet, and then he speeds off, shouting a quick “see you later!”.

You blink. You can hear the noises of walls breaking and windows shattering as Spiderman fights, and Felix runs up to you from the crowd outside and slings an arm over your shoulder. You’re still staring inside the classroom as if you can see through walls and watch the fight. What did see you later mean?

What’s the likelihood, honestly? You knew he was the friendly neighbourhood guy, and all that, but why not Bang Chan, in his sleek nanotech suit? This was a big fight. You find yourself getting worried, biting your nails in concern for the man you don’t even know. You have to remind yourself of that. He saved you because you’re any other citizen, not for any other specialty - you don’t know this guy.

“C’mon, over here,” Felix ushers you over, tone soft. When you’re with him, Seungmin and Jeongin, he sighs, rubbing your back. “Crazy, right? At least you can say you met Spiderman now.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung is safe, thank god. You kind of feel guilty for not worrying about him at the moment, but he’d text you shortly after, saying he’d left just before it all kicked off because he felt a little under the weather. He wanted to make sure you were okay, though, so he texted you as soon as he could. You’d never admit the blush that rose to your cheeks when you read it.

It’s quiet in your room. Your parents had sprinted to you as soon as you’d come through the door, having seen the situation on the news, and you’d reassured them that Spiderman had saved you. It definitely changed your dad’s perspective of him, and now you lie on your bed feeling more than relieved.

Your fingers tap on your tummy in thought, though. He was making his voice deeper, that much you could tell, but why? How was he there so quickly? There’s no fucking way he was a student. Still, that body in the tight suit… you’d definitely been looking. You’re a woman, of course you were going to look. He had a figure enviable to every man. Broad shoulders, abs just slightly visible, strong legs that carried you over to the window…

In your dreamlike fantasy, you’re considering something you previously never would’ve thought of. What if Jisung was underneath that suit? Now, that would be perfect. Both of your crushes being one being, Jisung pulling that suit up his lithe thighs and letting it settle over his broad pecs.

Before you know it, your hand is dipping under the hem of your pyjama pants, unable to feel guilty for thinking about your best friend in this way. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time, with many of your nights spent whimpering into your pillow and coming apart on your own fingers wishing they were his. He had such nice hands��� What if it was him who had grabbed you from underneath that table? Your hand trails down to find your folds, slick and ready for whatever you had in store, but you focus on your clit, swollen and aching between your bottom lips. Would he finger you in the gloves if you asked, let you ride his abs in the suit until completion? Would he kiss you upside down, hanging from the-

A tap on your window makes you jump. The room is dark, save for your bedside lamp, and you turn rapidly to see a faceless figure just about popping in from the corner. You yank your hand out of your bottoms, squeaking, and then you squint to try and see the figure closer.

Holy shit. Spiderman is at your bedroom window.

Your cotton tank top is revealing, so you turn immediately to reach for your dressing gown and tie it around your figure. You pad over to the window in your socks, still wide-eyed and completely baffled, and then you turn the handle to allow him access. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” You blurt, toes curling against your floor. Spiderman swings inside instead of responding, walking around your room like he’s been there a million times before. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”

He turns to you, shrugging. “I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

You blanch. He did say that, yes, but that still doesn’t explain the million questions you have right now. “Well, yeah, but- how do you know where I live?”

“I- uh, found it in the school office,” He hops up onto your bed, sitting cross legged. His mask hides his face, but he hums in pleasure at the feeling of the bedsheets on him. “After the fight, I went in there. Glad you’re okay, by the way.”

He’s still making his voice deeper, and you blink, nodding in response. “I’m great. Can I- can I ask why you’re here?”

He shrugs again, fiddling with a loose thread on your duvet. “No reason. Got bored. I was swinging around and remembered I saw your address on the computer.”

“Right,” You shake your head, still baffled. Instead of questioning him further, you jump onto the bed in front of him and copy his position, cross legged. “Don’t you have, like, recovering to do? I heard you got beat pretty bad.”

“Nah, no way,” He scoffs, rolling his neck. You suppress a smile. Cocky. “Spider venom, y’know? It repairs everything super quick.”

You were right. You can’t suppress a smile at his response, clicking your fingers at his masked face. “I fucking knew it! I guessed it was the venom.”

He stops fiddling with the duvet, turning to you and tilting his head in question. “You’re smart, aren’t you? Hey, are you the one that’s friends with that kid?”

You narrow your eyes. Jisung’s a liar. If Spiderman knows who he is, that means they’ve met more than once, and Jisung lied. You reach for your phone, ready to bitch him out via text, but Spiderman knocks your phone out of your hand. You turn to him, confused.

“Talk to me,” He whines. “I told you I was bored!”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, damn. Yes, I’m friends with Jisung. Why?”

“No reason,” He wiggles forward on your bed, grabbing your hand. You’re confused, but then he launches you into an intense thumb war, one that you were never going to win. Everytime you go to move your thumb in response to his, he’s got you pinned, and before he speaks again you’re five rounds down. “He’s pretty cool, right?”

“Who?” You ask, still focusing on the thumb war.

“Jisung,” He clarifies, clearing his throat. Making his voice that deep must be taking its toll on his vocal chords. “He’s kinda cool. Super smart, I thought.”

“He definitely is,” You laugh when he pins your thumb down again, swatting at his wrist to get him off of you. “He’s smarter than me.”

“And, uh,” He clears his throat again, leaning back on your bed. Leaning back like that, you have a full view of his body in his suit, and you have to stare at the posters on your wall to avoid looking at him. He puts his hands behind his head, the full picture of relaxation, and you wished he’d stop throwing you this random curveball behaviour. “Is that all you think of him? Just smart?”

You blush, finally reverting your eyes to him. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean… Do you have a crush on him, or?”

“Who wants to know?” You bristle, playing with your hands in your lap. You look down at your chipped nail polish, awkwardly shifting on the bed in your pyjamas. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“No one knows who I am,” He responds easily. “I want to know. Tell me. Do you have a crush on him?”

“I’m not telling you that-”

“I’m bored!” He whines again, sitting up. You let him grab your hand again, pulling your pinky finger into a promise. You swear you see the mask smile. “Tell me!”

“Okay, damn,” You sigh, exasperated. Was he on molly or something? Are you dreaming? “I guess so. I guess I always have, yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think he’d ever like me like that.”

He coos at that, taking your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting. “Why not?”

“He’s- well, I don’t think I’m good enough for someone like him,” You admit, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s awkward. He’s my best friend. It would ruin things, and I guess I’ve never let myself think about it like that.”

“You should,” He hums. You blink, staring at him. What the hell is he on about? “I just mean you should. Maybe he likes you too, y’know? I like my best friend. I’d love to know if she likes me back.”

“You do?” You wiggle closer, eager to know more. “You like your best friend? What’s she like?”

“Well,” He strokes your hand again before pulling away, leaning his chin on his hand. “She’s super pretty. Smart, too. I’ve known her since like, forev- for a few years, I think, in total.”

“It’s kind of the same with me and Jisung,” You sigh again, pouting. “I’ve known him for my whole life, basically. I’m just scared it’ll ruin things, but I think about him a lot when I’m on my own.”

He snickers. “Really? Like when you’re doing what you were doing when I got here?”

You swat at his shoulder, blushing bright red. “Shut up, oh my god! I thought you- shut up. Just don’t.”

“Maybe he thinks about you then too, I don’t know,” He shrugs nonchalantly, and then he’s getting up and pacing around. You watch him fiddle with a few photo frames on your desk, humming at ones of you and Jisung when you were younger and even fiddling with a few of your academic medals and prizes. “I won’t tell him, by the way.”

“You see him often?” You ask, voice soft. “He said-”

“Nah, I’ve only seen him once or twice,” He stretches his arms above his head, still staring at your desk full of trinkets. “He doesn’t know who I am.”

“Can I know?”

He turns to you. “Know what?”

“I want to know who you are,” Your voice is confident, but you feel anything but, teeth chewing your bottom lip nervously. “You saved me, and now you’re in my bedroom. I feel that I deserve to know.”

He sighs loudly this time, walking towards the window. “When we get to know eachother better, maybe.”

“Wait, hang on,” You watch him sling a foot out of the window, exasperated. He can’t leave! “Where are you going? I thought you said you were bored-”

“Things to do, baby,” He replies quickly. You blink. That ‘baby’ sounds awfully familiar, and you stand up quickly to walk towards the window, but he’s already webbing away. “Bye!”

You stand there, shocked and confused. He’s swinging from building to building away from you, and you’re just standing there like an idiot. You were interrupted before you could even start touching yourself, forced into a thumb war and coerced into admitting your deepest, darkest secret, and then he just… leaves? Just like that?

Your life is proving to be a little more interesting than you thought, but your dreams were filled with familiar round cheeks beneath a red and blue mask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Baby, is there a reason why your eyes are burning holes into the side of my head?”

You’re convinced your best friend is Spiderman. There, sitting beside you with his glasses sliding down his nose and comfortable in a grey hoodie and pink Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms on, it’s hard to believe. But you’re not stupid.

First of all, since he started that internship with Mr Bang, he’s been weird about letting you inside his room. This is the same person that you had many sleepovers with growing up, and as recently as a few months ago you’d been cuddling in bed together watching Howl’s Moving Castle. He has something to hide, but you’d been let down when you’d arrived at his house earlier and shouldered past him to find literally nothing of suspicion inside his room, other than an anime girl mouse pad with the boobs to rest your wrist on. You knew that existed though, ever since his birthday last year when Felix had gifted it to him, so what gives?

Secondly, Sohee is more stressed out than ever. You’d caught sight of her flitting around the kitchen when you arrived for your homework friend-date, scrubs on and ready to head to the hospital but still panicking about something. Jisung said multiple times that he’d been helping her out more and that’s why he’s been so busy lately. She shouldn’t still be panicking.

Thirdly, Spiderman wouldn’t make his voice deeper to you unless you knew him. He wouldn’t need to, or you wouldn’t recognise his voice - unless it’s a habit he’s picked up, perhaps. That doesn’t change that the way he called you baby last night sounded a little bit too familiar, too comfortable. It came out of his mouth like second nature.

Still, it makes no sense. Surely Jisung would have told you? You’re his best friend, he said so, so he’d tell you. Or would he? Maybe Felix knows. You’re also hoping deep down that it isn’t true, because if it is, you told your crush last night that you liked him.

You can’t even be mad at Jisung for it. He’s still staring at you, and you’re staring blankly back while shoving snacks into your mouth. There’s crumbs all over your homework.

“Jisung,” You begin, and he hums in response. “Would you tell me your deepest, most serious secret if I worked it out?”

He chokes on his energy drink, spluttering neon blue liquid all over his bed. You want to giggle, to make fun of him, but you’re sure you’ve gotten somewhere here. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and turns back to you. His hands are shaky where they clutch his textbook, and his eyes are almost blurry through the glasses. “I tell you everything anyway.”

“I don’t think you do,” You respond, quick as a beat. He blinks, lips parting. “Not by that reaction, Jisung. I think you’re hiding something from me.”

He scratches his nose with the end of his pen, looking down at the textbook again. You raise an eyebrow. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Okay,” You hum. He sighs, scribbling something on the paper. It’s so quiet in the room that you can hear his pen scribbling, but you’re speaking again before you can even think. “Did I tell you Spiderman came to my room last night?”

He gulps audibly. “Nope.”

“Yeah, it was kinda weird,” You take a sip from your energy drink, still staring at him vacantly. Jisung’s eyes flit up to you, and then back down to the textbook. Oh, he knows. He knows that you know. He knows that you know that he knows. “He saved me in school, when that alien thing was there, and then he came to my room and asked me about you.”

“He, uh- really? Did he?”

“Mhm,” Your gaze is steely. “Jisung, I know you’re Spiderman.”

Jisung bursts out laughing. It would be believable, but you’ve known him since you were four years old and it’s a fake laugh. He’s cackling, loud as brass, and he lets out a little “ooh” afterwards as if he can’t believe you. “Baby, that’s the craziest theory you’ve ever come up with.”

“Is it?” You question, head tilting to the side. Then, in the smartest moment you’ve ever had, you pick up Jisung’s energy drink from the floor. He’s still looking at you, a fake smile on his lips, and you take a sip from it casually. Sharing drinks isn’t new for you. You glug back the artificial blue raspberry flavour, and then keeping eye contact with him, you let go.

Before the can is able to fall and spill the rest of its contents over your own textbook, and inevitably Jisung’s One Piece bed sheets, he reaches out and grabs it, hand wrapping around the can, quick as a flash. It all happens in about a second, and you gasp. Jisung gasps. His hand tightens around the can and it crinkles, an impossible show of strength, and then he’s blinking at you. You raise an eyebrow.

“I knew it.”

He puts the can safely on the bedside table, and then he’s slamming his textbook shut. You watch in confusion as he paces back and forth on his bedroom floor, running his hands through his hair over and over.

“Okay!” He points at you, victorious. “That was a reflex. I knew you were going to do that, I’m smart, duh! I knew you were going to drop the can to prove something, and-”

“Jisung,” You say, voice soft. He stops pacing, sock clad feet rooted on the carpet to stare at you. You’re going to get him. You’re going to get him good. “Do you not want me to know? Is that what this is?”

He immediately falls to the floor, head resting on your knee as he looks up at you. You can’t even feel sorry for him, because your plan is working perfectly. His eyes are round and vulnerable, and then he clenches them shut in distress. You think he’s probably a second away from crying. “Baby, it’s not that. I wanted to protect you. It would be dangerous if the bad guys knew who you were, knew that you knew, and I know I shouldn’t have come to your room, that was wrong of me, and-”

You giggle. Jisung furrows his eyebrows, eyes opening. “I knew I was right.” He gasps, pointing at you again.

“Judas! You’re a judas!” He’s shocked, leaning back on his haunches and staring at you. “I can’t- I can’t believe you, that was so-”

“Sneaky? Good? Smart?” You list, leaning back on his twin bed. He stands up, hands on his hips. You’re ready for him to bitch you out, but you don’t care - you knew that you had to know, had to have it confirmed. He taps his foot, and then you see a smile break out on his lips.

“Okay, yeah, that was pretty good,” He hums, returning to the bed. You let him shut your own textbook and sprawl across you, head in your lap. “I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve told you.”

You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “That’s okay, Ji. It’s fine. I’m just a little embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why?” Jisung asks, his eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of your nails on his scalp. You want to scoff. Embarrassed for two major reasons - one, because you’ve been gushing about how cool Spiderman is for weeks, maybe even months, and two because you told Spiderman last night that you liked Jisung. Spiderman and Jisung are the same person. Sure, it makes things easier. You no longer have a crush on two people, only one, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jisung knows and is yet to say anything.

“I’ve been talking to you about Spiderman for weeks,” You blush, pushing his hair off of his forehead. He whines, thrashing his feet and shaking his head like a dog to hide his forehead again. He’s so dramatic. You like him so bad. “And- and you- it was you, then. You came to my room last night.”

“Yeah, that was risky,” He responds, exasperated. “I just had to, baby. I don’t know, you always seemed so interested in Spiderman and not me. I needed to know if you saw me like you saw him.”

You pause your movements on his head, blinking at the wall in front of you. When you turn back to him, he’s blushing, teeth gnawing his bottom lip. His eyes are conveniently staring at the window, away from you.

“Jisung,” You start, hesitant. “What do you mean?”

He sits up sharply. “Wanna go on the roof?”

“T-The roof? Jisung, how are we gonna- oh. Oh.”

Jisung jumps up from the bed, toeing his sliders onto his feet and pushing the window open. It gives you deja vu - that same figure was pushing the window open just like this to place you safely outside in school yesterday, and then he was coming through your window to see you late at night. It’s hard to believe that they’re the same person, the man you admired so much and your best friend who’s standing by the window expectantly waiting for you to join him.

You hesitantly stand up, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your joggers and looking at Jisung. He smiles, a soft, reassuring smile, and then he’s scooping you up from the floor and wrapping your legs around his waist. It’s slender, the plush flesh of your thighs almost obscuring it, and you squeak in surprise at being in the air.

“I- Jisung?!”

“You have to hold on tight,” He says. His face is inches away from yours, plush lips looking more than appealing and his glasses making him look so endearing. “I need my hands for this, so hold onto my shoulders.”

You nod, face blushing crimson at the realisation of just how close you are. Would he have you like this if he fucked you? Legs around his waist, hands on his shoulders, his face so close to yours as he pants and whines and moans-

You squeak again when he slides out of the window, and then you see him in action. His hands stick to the outside of the apartment building, feet kicking up against the concrete wall. Your heart is racing so badly it feels as though it could burst out of your chest, but you’re not sure if it’s because of the height or because you’re tightly pressed against Jisung.

When he swings you both over the side ledge on the roof, you notice the sun’s set already. Time always goes by quickly with Jisung, but the stars are already out, and the air is crisp and biting against your limbs despite the layers. Once he’s safely stood on the roof, he places his hands underneath your thighs and detaches you from his firm body, placing you on your feet.

You’re disorientated, shocked at the sheer height of the building and at the way Jisung seems to be swinging you around like it’s nothing, but he’s simply staring at you. A wide smile stretches from ear to ear, and he blinks when you don’t say anything. “It’s cool, right?”

“Y-Yeah, super cool,” You admit, chest heaving. “Really high up, but cool. Jisung, why are we on the roof?”

He’s wrangling you, hands on your arms and pushing you to the floor. It feels firm, but with what you now know about him, you know he’s holding back. He plops down next to you, eyes wide and expectant.

“I wanted to do it properly,” He begins. He pauses for a moment, licks his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose, and then he’s speaking again. “I like you, so that’s why I asked. Is it romantic up here? It feels romantic, but I’m not too sure-“

He stands up and begins pacing around the roof before you realise he’s even moved. You raise an eyebrow. “Jisung?”

“I wanted to do this right, y’know?” He pauses, hands on his hips. He looks comical, trying to assert dominance over you like that in those Hello Kitty pyjama trousers. “I- I wanted to swing by and like, grab you, or something? But then you worked it out, and now I’m just standing here with you on a roof…”

He continues mumbling like a mad scientist, eyes focused on a spot next to your head. You stand up, making your way towards him, and he still refuses to look at you. He likes you back. He likes you back, and he’s still your best friend - he’s still Jisung, but he’s also Spiderman, and you’re okay with that. You don’t have to like two people. You only like one, and it’s your goofy best friend.

“Is this even romantic? You know, we could just forget about it and-“

You press your lips to his. He doesn’t make any form of surprised noise, only cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you close to him. His glasses bump against your face, his lips pouty against yours and plush and maybe a bit too wet for a first kiss, but you’d always figured he’d take it too far. That’s what you like about him. Jisung never does anything by halves.

It’s brief, too brief for your liking, but then he’s pulling away with a satisfied grin on his face. You blink. Wait.

“Wait, your stupid- your stupid spidey things. Did you know I was going to kiss you?” You pout, and he giggles. “No, seriously! Could you like- I don’t know, feel it coming?”

“Not until you were like, a few inches from my face,” Jisung admits, and his teeth gleam in the brilliance of the evening. “I had a feeling you might.”

You sigh. “So why didn’t you stop talking?”

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “I couldn’t stop once I started.”

The statement is so true to Jisung, so in character for your best friend that you can do nothing but accept it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s easy to fall into a different routine with Jisung.

He never asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re pretty sure you’re fine with that, though - things have had a natural manner of progressing, and now your best friend slash boyfriend slash superhero turns up at your window every night after he’s been on his neighbourhood patrol. Sometimes he’s a little bruised, and sometimes he’s just looking for consolation kisses.

It’s a normal night for you when it happens. Jisung’s halfway out of your bedroom window on his way to perform perfect justice, pulling his mask down over his annoyingly beautiful face. You’re standing a few feet away grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll see you later, my baby,” You can see his grin through the mask. The eyes on his mask form beautiful crescent moons with his happiness. He falters, legs swinging on your windowsill. “Wait. I am coming back here, yeah?”

“Of course,” You giggle. He sends you two fingers in a mock salute, and you watch him begin his journey up the wall to your roof. A beat passes and you’re still standing there, smiling, hands on your hips, and then the masked head of your best friend pops back down into your window, upside down, tilting to the side in confusion. You blink, confused. “What is it, Sungie?”

“Well, where’s my goodbye kiss? Damn,” He huffs, and you roll your eyes playfully. You make your way to the window, sock-clad feet padding on your carpet, and you pull his mask down to his eyes with two fingers. It miraculously stays on his head, and his lips form a teasing grin.

Despite him being upside down, you place a chaste kiss to his lips, and you watch in amusement as he swings away afterwards. You can still hear him giggling with glee from a few buildings away.

It’s a few hours later when he comes back. You’re flicking through a book for English, scrawling notes and highlighting words on sticky notes. It’s started to rain, and the city lights only look brighter in the dusk with the pattering of water on your window. You left it open, of course, for your superhero, but the cold air bites at your arms even through the fluffy blanket you’ve got wrapped around yourself.

Just as you’re beginning to contemplate closing it, a louder, more prominent tap hits the glass. When you turn to the window, Jisung is slouched against your windowsill, chest heaving beneath red lycra and forehead pressed against the glass. He’s got his mask between his teeth, and his hair is dishevelled, floppy brown locks obscuring his eyes. You can still catch sight of the bruising on his cheekbones and you gasp, rushing towards the window.

You drop your blanket in shock, but you swing the window open, pulling Jisung inside with one hand. He stumbles through, disoriented and confused, and you lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Got hurt,” He explains, huffing out a breath. The mask drops from his teeth unceremoniously, with a wet plop to your carpeted floor, but you don’t care. You rush to sit next to him, fingers gripping his chin to pull him to face you. His eyes are round, sincere, and he gives you a soft smile. “It’ll heal before long, baby, don’t panic.”

“I am panicking,” You say, resolute, because you really are. Bruising is scattered across his cheekbones, fading into green on the plush of his cheeks and his lip looks like it had been burst, but is already healing. “Will it- will it take long? Do you need me to get the first aid kit, or-“

“Baby,” He shakes his head, grabbing your hands. You watch with parted lips as he leans forward, both of you cross legged on the end of your bed. It reminds you of when Spiderman first visited you, when you weren’t quite sure of his identity. Jisung presses his forehead against yours, and you let him look into your eyes. It’s like he’s demanding everything that’s ever gone through your head to be vocalised. You’d tell him if he asked. “I’m really okay. I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine. Most of it is on my ribs from falling, to be honest.”

“Your ribs?!” You shriek. “Show me. Let me see, I need to help you-“

You’re already trying to wrangle Jisung out of his suit, and he giggles, clearly thinking this is all just some game. He holds his arms up pliantly, though, and you don’t have the thought processing ability within you to realise that Jisung’s suit is an all-in-one and you’re currently stripping him down to his boxers.

The suit is wet too when you drop it to the floor, and before long you’re blinking at your best friend in his plain black boxers and he’s grinning at you as if this is any other day. There’s no bruising on his ribs. You’re staring at his abs, regardless, so you’re not sure you would’ve even noticed.

“You look fine.”

“I told you it heals quickly, baby,” He grins. You blink when he wriggles on your bed, laying on his back and stretching his arms above his head again, this time to get comfortable. His legs stretch out too, and you avoid looking anywhere below his waist.

His body is a spectacle. You can’t stop looking. Broad shoulders taper off into an extremely defined chest and a tight, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers down his honey toned skin.

“Why-“ You cough, clearing your throat. Jisung raises an eyebrow. He’s grinning from ear to ear, teeth gleaming. “Why did you let me strip you if you’re literally fine?”

The bruising on his cheek is already fading. He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge with the movement and you think you might choke on your own spit. “You seemed pretty determined, so I just allowed it. You wanted to see me naked, I assumed, so-“

“Jisung!” You wail, slapping his shoulder. He groans in pain, catching your hand, and he grits his teeth with a hiss.

“My shoulder! Fuck, that hurt, ouch, baby! What was that for?!”

You gasp. He clutches his shoulder, letting out little pants of hurt sounding noises. You let your head fall to his chest, engulfing him with a hug. “Jisung, I’m so sorry-“

“Hehe,” He giggles. When you look at him, he’s sticking his tongue out, completely fine. You groan, annoyed you fell for it, and then he’s grabbing your forearms and pulling you upwards on top of him.

Your breasts press against his chest like this, due to your lack of bra in your sleep shirt, and his eyes widen when he feels it. Instead of letting you go, his hands move to your back, encompassing you in his strong hold.

You gasp, wiggling in his grip, and he licks his lips. His eyes go to your lips, and then back up to your eyes, as if he’s hesitant.

“I-“ He begins, faltering. “Are you my girlfriend?”

You scoff out a laugh. “I don’t know, am I?”

“I hope so,” Jisung admits, his facial expression vulnerable. His eyes dart to something behind you, as if he’s not sure, almost shy. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him shy. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask, but I want you to be, if you want to be.”

“I want to be,” You nod. He nods in response, and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips again. It’s silent for a moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss is more charged than usual. Before now, you’re used to chaste, fleeting kisses from your superhero, but now he lets his tongue tease against the seam of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, and his eyelashes brush against your skin where he does the same. You let your lips part, and Jisung’s quick to grip your back harder, tongue darting inside your mouth with impatience.

You’ve made out with someone before. You’d never had sex with someone before, but you had made out with someone. It was only once at a party when you were a little bit younger but it had felt like a good idea at the time. You’re sure Jisung’s lost his virginity though, but when he whimpers against your lips and his hips squirm a little you’re not too sure.

You pull away from the kiss, lips a little wet, and Jisung’s mouth goes to your neck. You allow him to suck a mark into the expanse of skin just underneath your jaw, his fingers grabbing impatiently at your back. “Sungie, are you a virgin?”

Jisung pulls away, licking his lips. You feel something hard pressing against your thigh where you lay on top of him. You’re thanking every entity ever that your parents are out for a work dinner. “Yeah, I am. I would have told you if I wasn’t,” He confirms, a little breathless. His hips wiggle again. “Is that- is that okay, baby?”

“Yeah, of course,” You smile, comforting. You peck his lips again and he grins back at you. “I am too.”

“I know,” He responds, quick as a flash. You blush. That’s embarrassing. “No, I just mean- you also would’ve told me, y’know?”

“That’s true,” You shrug. You’re feeling a little overconfident, and you move in his hold, having felt it gone a little lax with your kissing. You let your thighs spread over his hips, his hard shaft pressing against your core through your pyjama bottoms and his boxers. You still feel it, though, and it makes your pussy gush a little. “Is- is this okay?”

He’s blushing. His lips part, and he nods, perhaps too eagerly because he clutches his neck afterwards like he’s got whiplash. “Baby, you’re- I have a pretty girl in my lap. This is so okay. Like, so okay, I might have a heart attack and die, probably.”

You shift, and he winces. “Sorry,” You say. It’s a fake apology. You want to swallow his cock down your throat until he cries, and you don’t even know how to. You’d try your best though. “If I lost my virginity, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Damn,” Jisung whistles, eyebrows raised. “Let me hit?”

You giggle, tilting your head to the side. “I’ll let you hit right now, Jisung.”

Jisung shoots upwards into a seated position. His eyes are wide. “Right now?”

“Right now,” You confirm. You go from straddling his lap to laying on your back on your bed in a flash, and Jisung looms over you, all tight, toned muscles and broad shoulders.

“I’ll make it so good, baby, I promise,” He says, and then he’s kissing you again. It’s even messier this time, lips pressing against yours over and over and his tongue adding a collection of spit to the mix. You let your thighs fall apart, his hips quick to fill the space and press his cock against you. His hands go to your waist as he kisses you, sucking and biting on your lips until you’re whining with it, but he doesn’t let up. He’s desperate, messy, and it’s only making your pussy drool even more.

The rain hits the window still, cooling off a little but still providing a calming effect to your room when combined with the orange-pink of your lamp. He inches his palms up your shirt, the softness of his hands surprising you, and then he’s pulling away from your mouth to yank the fabric over your head.

You’re left in just your pyjama bottoms, lips kiss bitten and nipples pebbled against the cool air of your bedroom. You never had shut your window, after all.

“Oh,” Jisung says, exasperated. You finally open your eyes to see him staring at your tits, and you think he might be drooling. “Oh, yeah, my baby. They are so fucking good.”

You almost laugh, but you’re cut off by your own strangled moan when his pouty lips engulf your right nipple. He sucks on it, hard, and when your back arches he lets it slip out of his mouth with a wet popping noise. It’s only a brief moment of reprieve before he’s letting his teeth skim along the bud, and you keen, fingers moving upwards from his shoulders to grip onto the pillow behind your head.

“Oh, that’s so- Sungie, baby, that feels good,” You whine, and he hums against your breast. When he moves to the other one, he tweaks your wet nipple between two fingers. It’s experimental, but the whole thing is, and you buck your hips up impatiently.

His hands move to your ass, scooping underneath you and making you grind slightly against him. The movement makes him moan, your nipple leaving his mouth. A string of drool attaches to his lips and his tongue lolls out lazily, and before you can process it, he’s grinding his cock into your clothed centre.

“Oh- oh, fuck,” He whines, eyes clenching shut. You whimper in response, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Baby- baby, baby. Baby, I’ve thought about this so much, I- fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

His words are so crude that they make you keen, nodding enthusiastically. “I thought about it too. I- I touched myself thinking about it, Sungie, did you?”

He gasps sharply, and there’s a fumbling between your legs. He rocks backwards on his haunches, and you see him gripping his cock impatiently underneath his boxers, fingers wrapped tight around the base.

“I will literally cum if I imagine that,” He huffs, breathless. “But yes. I did, many times, and- and- baby, can I see your pussy?”

It’s so bold that you can’t say no. You never would have dreamed of saying no anyway, and you nod, wiggling your bottoms down your legs. You never wear a bra or panties underneath your pyjamas, and your pussy is revealed to him in all its drooly glory, folds sticking together with your arousal.

Jisung’s jaw goes slack. You watch him jerk his cock, eyes fixated on your wet hole, and you shift impatiently.

“I showed you mine, Sungie,” You huff. “Show me yours.”

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. Your clit is swollen with arousal, some wetness stuck onto it, and you reach down to trace your fingertips over it absentmindedly while he pushes his boxers down. His cock slaps up against the bottom of his tummy, cockhead leaking beneath his foreskin, precum slicking the smattering of hair at his base. His balls look heavy, shaft swollen and fat between lithe thighs, and you can’t help but go a little googly eyed at the thought of him stretching you out.

He grabs it, pumps his cock a few times while you rub your fingers over your clit. “Is- is it okay, baby?” He gasps, cock leaking steadily in his fist.

“You’re so sexy, Sungie, ‘s so big. I- oh,” You whine, spreading your arousal over your folds. You prop your feet up, letting your legs fall wide, and the movement must expose your soppy hole to Jisung because his eyes widen even further. “I want you inside of me so bad. I’ve wanted it for so long, I just- shit, Jisung, what are you-“

You’re cut off by him diving between your legs. His cock is forgotten, his hands looping around your ass again to spread you wide, and his tongue presses against your core. He moans at the taste, and you whimper out loud, head rolling against your pillow. It’s messy and you can tell he’s inexperienced, but when he sucks your clit between his lips you can’t find it in you to care.

“Oh, oh- baby, baby! You’re good at that, so good at that, baby,” You babble, trying your best not to grind up into his mouth. His mouth is just as wet as your pussy, his lips drooling all over you. You’re cut short when he flattens his tongue against your core, moaning out loud, and his hands move your ass just a bit. “I- you- Sungie-?”

“Grind on my face, baby, c’mon,” He murmurs, muffled by your folds, and you oblige. Your hand goes to his hair, yanking on the dark brown strands, and you hold him in place while you grind your pussy senseless on his tongue. Your boy is good with his mouth, you realise - he’s pliant, letting you make yourself cum on his tongue and lips, and after only a few grinds you’re sure you’re going to fall apart for him.

“Ah! Ah, oh, baby, your mouth is- Sungie, Sungie,” You whine, feet kicking on the bed. Your legs go flat, but as the pleasure builds up in your core, your thighs tighten around his ears. He likes this, moaning loud to the point the vibrations make you jolt. It’s all so wet, your pussy dripping with arousal and his saliva, dripping down to your asshole. It has you wondering if Jisung would eat your ass further down the line, and your eyes flicker to his - would he let you eat his? He probably would, with how submissive he’s being.

His hips buck downwards on the bed and he keens into your pussy, and you realise he’s humping your mattress. He’s so desperate for you that he just can’t help himself, and you moan, loud and unabashed. The sight has you hurtling towards your orgasm.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, baby,” You warn, and he finally lets up, pulling back to suck on your clit. His hand moves over to the top of your pussy, pulling your mound backwards, and the exposure of your clit directly to his lips is your downfall. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth, and you can hear yourself talking and moaning but you’re not sure what you’re saying, only able to feel your hole gushing into Jisung’s mouth over and over.

Jisung licks over your clit a few times comfortingly, and then he’s on top of you again, face looming over yours. His right hand holds him up steadily and the other stays downwards, hooked on your thigh to keep you open.

“You taste delicious, baby,” He grins, mouth wet. When he presses his lips to yours he’s desperate, tongue darting into your mouth to let you taste your own cum. You let your hands fall to his chest, fingernails digging into the muscles. The filthiness of it all has you wriggling around impatiently again, and Jisung’s cockhead slips against your clit, making you whine into his mouth. He pulls away, gasping for air with the sensation, and you kiss the beauty spot on his cheek for good measure. “Baby. M-my baby, shit, can- can I fuck you now? Have you got a condom, I- shit, I need to fuck you?”

He’s breathless, giggling at his own desperation, and you nod eagerly. You’re on the pill, and realistically you’d want nothing more than him to creampie you, but you have a shred of logic still left in your brain. “No condom. I- I don’t have any, can you pull out? I know it’s not-“

“Don’t care,” He huffs, legs moving to prop himself up more securely. His knees dig into your bed, and he pulls your thigh further apart, letting his eyes fall down to your pussy. His face is more than pornographic when he sees the visual of his cockhead sliding through your folds, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted. He lets his eyes flutter shut, a small profanity leaving his mouth. “You’re sure I can fuck you raw? I- please, p-please, baby. I need to be inside.”

“Jisung,” You whine. He lets his tip bump against your clit again, and you grow too desperate, reaching down yourself to grab his cock. The feeling makes him whimper, his fingers ripping into the pillow beside your head with his superhuman strength, but you’re too out of it to care. You position his cock by your hole, soppy and wet with your own cum, and he can’t hold himself back - he pushes in, all of it at once, a long, anguished noise leaving his mouth. “Oh. Oh- Oh, Jisung, that’s-“

“Is it okay? Are you okay?” Jisung asks, breathless. “Does it hurt? I- baby, baby-“

He’s still completely stationary, but he can’t stop talking, chest heaving and flushed pink. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt. You’re wet enough that he glided in so easy, stretching your pussy in the most pleasurable, delicious way. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good, but you’re sure it’s because it’s Jisung.

“God, is it- does it feel good?” He questions you, and you nod eagerly, hands moving to rest on his biceps. He repositions you both so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his arms holding himself up over you, and the movement has him sliding deeper, making you whimper. “Can I-“

“Fucking hell, Jisung, can you just move?” You huff, annoyed, and he giggles. He shakes his head fondly, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow but steady.

“Oh, that’s good,” He slurs, eyes rolling back into his head. “That pussy’s good. Jesus, you’re- you’re tight on my cock, baby, like a fuckin’ vice.”

“Your cock is so good,” You whine, trying to fuck yourself back on him. Your pussy is so wet that every thrust makes an audible noise, ringing throughout your room. If anyone walked past now they’d hear the debauchery, and you’re not sure you’d even care. “Fuck, Jisung- Jisung, you’re big. Please, please, more, I need more!”

“Okay, okay,” He moans, and then his hips speed up. His balls slap against your asshole with every thrust, his cock pistoning into you at a pace that has you wailing. The headboard slams against the wall. “Oh, fuckin’- baby, this puusssy.”

“It feels so good. Your cock is stretching me out so good, baby-“

“Fuck, wait,” He whines, pulling out sharply. When you look down between his legs his cock is painfully hard, and his pubic hair is drenched with you. The sight makes you even more eager to get him back inside of you, but Jisung grabs the base of his cock tightly, his chest heaving. “I- I’ll cum if you talk like that. Fuck, this is so embarrassing!”

“I want you to cum,” You insist, leaning up on your elbows. Your pussy is still leaking steadily onto your bedsheets, and you make grabby hands at your boy to try and get him back inside of you. “You made me cum so good in your mouth, Sungie, c’mon. Make yourself cum with my pussy.”

“Oh my God,” He moans, eyes half lidded, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re dirty. My fucking dream, holy shit.”

He leans over you once more, pushing his cock inside of you. It slides back in easily with another wet noise, and you moan, smiling with delight. “Mm, fuck this pussy, baby, c’mon.”

“I- fuck, okay,” He keens, nodding. His teeth bite into his lower lip almost painfully, and you kiss his neck while he starts to fuck into you again. With a quick reposition you let your thighs fall apart and further back, and his cock starts to hit your g-spot incessantly. He pulls away from you, head lolling into your neck. His breaths fan over your skin, hot and heavy. “You’re so wet, why are you- how are you so wet, baby? This pussy, fucking- I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, I’m so close, please-“

The shred of logic has left your brain. His cock feels so good, thick and pressing inside of you. You have to let him do it. “Baby. Baby, do y’wanna- I’m on the pill, baby,” You say, breathless. His pace stops, hips halting, and he makes a confused noise. “Cum inside. Creampie this hole, Sungie, I know you want to.”

“Oh my fucking- baby? My baby, can I?” He wails, head pulling up to look at you. You catch sight of tears brewing in his eyes, glassy and unshed. “Baby, please, I’m gonna cum, please, where-? Baby?”

“Inside of me, Sungie,” You wrap your legs around him, pulling him inside of you, deep. You know he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hips starting to pick up inside of you again. It’s fast, desperate and he keens, nodding. “You gonna fill me up, yeah?”

“Yeah. Y-yeah, yes, oh- I’m gonna fill you up,” Jisung’s words are slurred, quiet, and you let him fuck into you over and over. With a sharp noise, his hips slow once more, and you feel a rush of additional wetness inside of you. It’s warm, and you run your fingers through his hair while he fucks his cum inside of you. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so good to me, so good. Lettin’ me breed your cunt, and- and- oh. I’m still-“

He’s still cumming. It floods out of his cock and into your pussy steadily, and you giggle, feeling sated. Your delighted state of mind only lasts a second, because he pulls out sharply and wiggles down on the bed, attaching his mouth to your cunt. He’s eating his own cum out of you.

“Oh! Oh, Jisung, you’re- you’re dirty, Sungie, ah-“ You whine, fingers moving to his hair again. He licks you over and over until you’re wailing with it, your own tears brimming in your eyes from the overstimulation. Your hole feels stretched, a feeling you’re sure you could get used to, and you shake through a second orgasm.

Jisung’s quick to lean over you again, and then his thumb moves to your chin. He opens your mouth firmly, spitting your combined release into your mouth, and you moan, letting him press his tongue between your lips afterwards.

It’s messy and you let him kiss you for a bit, slow, languid, passionate kisses that have your core almost throbbing for more, if you weren’t so satisfied. Jisung’s soft cock presses against your tummy, wet with your combined arousal, and then he flops down next to you with a huff.

“God, I could go again,” He admits, hand running through his sweat mussed hair. When you turn to him, he’s grinning from ear to ear, and you giggle. He looks at you with a satisfied expression. “You’re the best. That was literally like, the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Even more than when I win some fight against an alien, or something.”

“Alien?” You ask, and then you remember. “Oh, yeah. Kinda forgot about that.”

“You forgot about me saving your life?!” He shrieks, thrashing around on the bed in a tantrum. “Seriously, if I wasn’t in love with you I would- ah. Oh.”

You blanch, blinking at him. It’s easy to ignore that you’re both naked when he’s just dropped a bombshell on you like that, and you let out a giggle. “That was sweet. I’m in love with you too, for the record.”

You’re attacked in a flurry of kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re sure Han Jisung intrigues you just as much as his superhero alterego does, so it’s easy to accept.

[dolibeauti]

nsfw mdni

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki hates your guts (or so he says). but you always roll your eyes when he says it because you know he’s lying

you know he’s lying because when he begs you to give him a blowjob under his desk when he plays his silly games, his moans leave behind little ‘fuck, i love you’s which makes you more giddy to suck him dry. and when you try to confront him about it, he scoffs and forces your head to his crotch once more.

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki loves wearing DESPICABLE (me) shirts that make you squeal in embarrassment. like you ever seen someone wearing those gosh awful hentai shirts? i hope you haven’t but he lounges around in them at home and occasionally risks it and wear it under his baggy hoodie in public.

you know what also makes you squeal? when he forces you to cockwarm him when he’s on a call with his friends while playing multiplayer horror games. he isn’t immune to a little scare so he flinches every once in a while that forces you to jerk on his cock. his mic is right beside your head so you have to cover your mouth with a hand to stop from making a noise. don’t worry, though, he always fucks you real good if you stay silent.

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki makes you play the MOST horrifying games he can get his hands on. i’m talking ones that make you let out a blood-curdling scream.

he also asks you to watch porn with him (≧◡≦)! the type of videos he watches aren’t like crazy but they aren’t much tame either. (ex. choking kink, probs bdsm, etc.) AND LIKE I SAIDD he loves hands. especially his so he loves choking you while watching (´▽`). ++++ quirk au… he scares you - in a hot way.

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki honestly does nothing all day. he’s on his ass in baggy clothing watching tv, on his phone, or playing a game!

but he’s lowkey a sex addict so his “most productive” thing he does is | 1. eating your cunt. he eats it like there no tomorrow but he’s lazy and sloppy and he may or may not unintentionally edge you until you’re a mess and your soul is sucked out. | 2. watch tv while you give him a hand job. he loves seeing and feeling your hand squeeze his length, simple as that!

LOSER ! tomura shigaraki hates to admit it but he loves you in so many different ways.

of course, he loves you! but he also loves plunging his fat dick into your cunt until you’re screaming. absolutely drilling it into you with no end. but he also loves using you up to your sexual limits.

[emmyrosee]

Ugh, imagine modern au toji with baby megumi, you’re sitting in the mostly empty student lounge area studying and toji brings megumi to meet you there, and upon arriving, he puts megumi down and the little baby runs to you excitedly. You notice and you happily stop what your doing and open your arms to catch him falling into you and you give him so many face kisses while toji comes to give you a kiss on the head

There’s an annoying whistle that snaps you out of your reading, and when you turn to scowl at the source, your face quickly turns into one of excitement as your eyes focus on your boyfriend, then the small boy toddling over to you, trying as fast as his little legs can go. His face is focused, but in his fist is a tiny flower, one you recognize from the arrangements in front of the building.

You won’t tell anyone, of course.

“Megumi!” You coo, extending your arms open to catch him. He finally offers you a smile and leaps up into your arms, burrowing his face against you immediately, nuzzling into you like a kitten. “Aw, how’s my favorite boy?”

“Fine, thank you,” toji answers, making his way over to you. He presses a kiss on your head, “you didn’t mean me, did you?”

“You’re my favorite man,” you assure, turning your head up to him and pursing your lips out for a kiss, which he gives you. “Whistle at me again though and I’ll make Shiu help me hide your body and keep megumi all to myself.”

“I feel like you might do that anyways,” he grumbles. He plants one more kiss to your head before plopping down in the empty seat next to you, tossing an arm around you. “What’re you working on?”

“I dunno, something about marine life,” you hum, rocking yourself and megumi back and forth. Toji makes a confused noise, and you flick your gaze to him.

“Since the hell when do you study anything with marine life?” He asks.

You grin, “since tiny toji told me he likes the aquarium.”

“I like fishies,” Megumi says simply, playing with the stings of your hoodie.

Toji laughs and shakes his head, reaching over to ruffle megumi’s black locks, “he’s got you wrapped around that little finger, don’t he?”

“He does,” you sigh. Then, you kiss his head, “but it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

[xo100]

A Sparkling Christmas - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Christmas with Lando is full of love, laughter, and thoughtful surprises. But one unexpected gift turns a magical day into a moment you’ll never forget.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 885

*:･ﾟ A/N: hey loves! A quick message before you read the fic. I wanted to ask y’all if you can check out @gridprincess-04 her blog! She’s working on 12 days of Christmas! Her work is absolutely amazing.

⤷ here is the link to her post of 12 days of Christmas! Make sure to send in a request and she’ll make a masterpiece of it! Thank you in advance, love you all’

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the frosty windows, illuminating the cozy chaos of the living room. Christmas morning had arrived, and the festive spirit was palpable. Lando Norris stirred awake, his messy curls a tangle against the pillow. He blinked a few times, disoriented, until his eyes landed on the figure curled up next to him.

You were still asleep, your face nestled into the crook of his arm. The soft rise and fall of your breathing brought a smile to his face, one of those private smiles he saved only for moments like this—moments that were just his and yours.

He’d planned something special for today, and the anticipation had him wide awake now. Lando carefully slipped out of bed, mindful not to wake you. Pulling on a hoodie and some sweatpants, he padded into the kitchen to start the morning right: pancakes, coffee, and a little bit of his signature mischief.

By the time you stumbled out of the bedroom, wrapped in a blanket like a human burrito, the smell of coffee and syrup had already filled the air. Lando turned around, spatula in hand, grinning at you like the cat who got the cream.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he teased, watching as you shuffled to the counter. “I thought you were going to sleep through Christmas at this rate.”

You rolled your eyes, too groggy to respond with anything clever, but the corners of your mouth tugged upward. Lando slid a plate of pancakes in front of you and leaned over the counter, chin propped on his hand as he watched you take the first bite.

“Good?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Amazing,” you mumbled through a mouthful of food, earning a laugh from him.

The morning passed in a blur of wrapping paper, laughter, and stolen kisses. Lando had an uncanny ability to pick the perfect gifts, each one tailored to you in a way that made your heart swell. A set of vintage books you’d been eyeing, a new pair of headphones, even a handmade card that was equal parts hilarious and touching.

But the real surprise was yet to come.

As the day wore on, the two of you transitioned from the chaos of gift-opening to the quiet comfort of lounging on the couch. The Christmas tree lights cast a warm glow over the room, and soft holiday music played in the background. You stretched lazily, announcing your intention to change into something more comfortable for the night.

“Wait,” Lando said, stopping you in your tracks. He reached behind the couch and produced a final gift, neatly wrapped in festive paper. “One last present. Open it before you change.”

You raised an eyebrow but accepted the package, tearing through the paper to reveal a cozy-looking hoodie in your favorite color.

“You’re trying to convert me into one of your hoodie cultists,” you teased, holding it up. It was soft and oversized, exactly the way you liked it.

“Guilty as charged,” Lando said, smirking. “Go try it on. I think you’ll like it.”

You didn’t need much convincing. Retreating to the bedroom, you pulled the hoodie over your head, relishing the warmth. But as you adjusted it, your hand brushed against something in the pocket. Frowning, you reached in and pulled out a small velvet box.

Your heart stopped.

Carefully, you opened it to reveal a delicate golden ring, the light catching on the intricate design. For a moment, you just stared, the reality of it not quite sinking in. Then you heard a soft knock on the door, and Lando’s voice drifted through.

“Everything okay in there?”

You opened the door to find him leaning casually against the frame, but his expression betrayed his nerves. He glanced at the box in your hand and then back at your face.

“So, uh,” he began, scratching the back of his neck. “I was going to do the whole get-on-one-knee thing, but honestly, I thought this felt more… us.”

You didn’t say anything, your throat too tight with emotion. Instead, you launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck. He caught you with a laugh, holding you tightly as you whispered, “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of happiness, laughter, and quiet moments shared just between the two of you. After dinner—a simple yet perfect meal you cooked together—you found yourselves back on the couch, tangled up in each other. The fire crackled softly, and the snow outside blanketed the world in a serene white.

Lando’s hand found yours, his thumb brushing against the ring on your finger. “I’ve been carrying that around for weeks, you know. Couldn’t figure out the right moment to give it to you.”

“You picked the perfect moment,” you said softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I’ll never forget today.”

He turned to press a kiss to your temple, his voice low and tender. “You make everything perfect, love.”

The two of you stayed like that for hours, wrapped up in the magic of the holiday and the quiet promise of forever. As the fire dimmed and sleep began to claim you, Lando’s voice broke through the haze.

“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Norris.”

And with a sleepy smile, you whispered back, “Merry Christmas, Lando.”

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Lift you up .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x influencer!reader

⤿ doing a tiktok trend.

The moment the TikTok trend of guys effortlessly lifting their girlfriends onto their shoulders went viral, Mina couldn’t resist teasing YN about it.

“Come on, YN, you have to do it with Bakugou! Imagine his face when you ask him,” Mina giggled, showing YN another video of a laughing couple toppling over on a couch.

YN smiled nervously. She wasn’t sure how Bakugou would react to such a request. Sure, they were dating, but Bakugou wasn’t exactly the type to jump on viral trends. Still, Mina’s words planted a seed of curiosity in her mind.

Later that evening, as they lounged in Bakugou’s dorm room, YN decided to bring it up.

“Katsuki?” she murmured, her voice soft as she rested against his side, her legs curled up on the couch.

“Hmm?” he grunted, scrolling through his phone, his other arm draped around her shoulders.

“Can we, uh… try something?” she asked, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie.

Bakugou’s crimson eyes flicked to her, his brow raising in mild suspicion. “What kind of ‘something’?”

YN hesitated before pulling out her phone and showing him one of the TikTok videos. “It’s a trend… You lift me onto your shoulders like this.”

Bakugou stared at the video, his face scrunching up in disbelief. “Why the hell would we do that?”

“I don’t know, it looks fun… and cute?” YN’s voice trailed off, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her tone.

“Tch, looks dumb,” he muttered, turning back to his phone.

“Oh,” YN said quietly, shrinking into herself.

Bakugou noticed her shift immediately. He let out a frustrated sigh, setting his phone down. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

YN’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah, but if you fall, it’s your fault,” he grumbled, standing up and stretching. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

YN couldn’t help but giggle as she set up her phone to record. Bakugou stood in the middle of the room, looking both annoyed and determined.

“Alright, how do we do this?” he asked, crouching slightly.

YN climbed onto his back, and with surprising ease, Bakugou hoisted her up onto his shoulders. He straightened up, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her steady.

“See? Told you I could lift you,” he said smugly.

YN laughed, her hands resting on his head for balance. “You’re so strong, Katsuki.”

“Damn right I am,” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Just then, the door swung open, and Kaminari and Kirishima walked in.

“Bro, what are you—” Kaminari started before bursting into laughter. “Are you guys doing that TikTok thing?!”

Bakugou’s face turned bright red. “GET OUT!” he roared, stomping toward the door with YN still on his shoulders.

Kirishima held up his hands, trying to stifle his laughter. “Alright, alright, we’re leaving!”

As the door closed, YN was giggling uncontrollably. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Shut up,” Bakugou grumbled, but the small smile on his face betrayed his words.

When YN checked the recording later, she couldn’t help but post it. The video quickly went viral, with comments flooding in about Bakugou’s strength and YN’s adorable laughter.

Bakugou pretended to be annoyed, but secretly, he was just happy to see YN smile.

[wileys-russo]

santa's biggest fan II l.williamson

part of the mila-verse and a little belated christmas fic i never finished in time santa's biggest fan II l.williamson "okay mils, time for bed bubba!" you clapped your hands together when the movie finished, the end credits rolling and your wife heaving a sigh of relief as your daughter groaned.

"another one! i'm not tired." the small blonde demanded, curling even more into leah who smiled in amusement, but that dropped the moment you gave her a hard look of warning.

"bubba if you don't go to sleep, santa won't come!" the footballer whistled with a firm nod as mila looked up to her in shock. "he only comes when everyone is sleeping." you back her up with another nod.

"okay lets all go to bed come on!" mila announced, launching herself off the lounge and sprinting off in the direction of yours and leahs room.

"mila babe, mummy and i don't go to sleep yet. remember how we talked about grown up bedtime is different to kid bedtime?" you called after her, footsteps thundering back down the hall as you were grateful you didn't still live in the tiny upstairs apartment you and leah first moved into together years before mila was even a thought.

"then why can't i stay up with you? its a special night, mummy said so! that should mean special rules." mila huffed, bottom lip jutting out into an adorable pout as she stomped her foot.

"it is already an hour past your bedtime little miss, now go on jump into bed and we'll come in and read you a special story. right?" leah chimed in, mila shaking her head and with a resoundingly stubborn no! was off and racing around the house again as you and leah shared a knowing look.

"my love i have a feeling this is going to be a long night."

and safe to say you weren't a betting woman but you were right on the money with that predication.

"is she..." you whispered to your wife as she ever so slowly tip toed back into the living room with a quick nod and you exhaled in relief. "how many stories?" you asked with a slight smile of amusement, opening your arms as the blonde sank down into them with a huff.

"the same one, over and over, seven bloody times. i might just add in the murder of that hungry hungry caterpillar the next fucking time i read it!" leah grumbled into your neck, your body vibrating beneath her with a quiet laughter.

"its not funny! god why are kids like this? first it was that awful baby shark song, then it was that awful show about fruit and friendship or whatever, now its the same awful book on repeat!" leah whined as you merely smiled, hand slipping up her hoodie to scratch your nails gently up and down her back.

"kids just like repetition baby its safe for them, they know they won't be disappointed. almost like a defender i know who has had the same pregame routine for...what is it now? ten? eleven years?" you chuckled, leahs head whipping up to scowl down at you as her taller body hovered over yours.

"that is not the same thing!" she whisper yelled defensively as your smile widened into a grin.

"is too. or should we talk about the rotation of bland beige meals you rotate? our daughter has a more adventurous palette than you, at least she can handle some seasoning and colour!" you teased, poking your tongue out in response to her offended scoff.

"i will have you know-" your hand darted up to cover her mouth with a sharp shut up at her raised tone of voice, peeking your head up to glance over your wifes shoulder, sighing in relief when mila didn't appear.

"you know my girl there is another way you could shut me up thats much more pleasant for both of us." leah smirked once you'd removed your hand, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as you tried to bite back your smile, her arms planting themselves either side of your head.

"is that mistletoe?" leah frowned looking up at the ceiling but the moment you tried to glance up her mouth connected with yours, your fingers pinching her side. "you're unbelievable." you mumbled against her lips with a slight snicker.

"unbelievably sexy? oh baby, how you flatter me." leah gasped sarcastically, once again kissing you quickly before you could reply, settling herself comfortably on top of you as your tongues fought for dominance of the kiss.

but before anyone could win there was an interruption, leah falling off of you in shock and groaning as her back met the floor with a thump.

"i'm not tired and i can't sleep!" mila repeated, stomping her foot with a scowl that was a near mirror image of your wives from where she sat on the floor muttering about her tailbone.

with a deep sigh you sat up, swinging yourself to push off the sofa and scooping up the tiny blonde, settling her on your hip. "well that's too bad mil, it is way past your bedtime!" you carried her back to her room, protests ringing out the entire time.

"story!" the girl demanded as you tucked her back into bed, sighing again and reaching for the book already sat on the bedside table, making yourself comfortable in the armchair by your daughters bed.

"in the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf..."

~

"-then he nibbled a hole in the cocoon, pushed his way out and-" "-and he was a beautiful butterfly!" your daughter finished excitedly, clapping her hands and nowhere near close to sleep as you exhaled tiredly and snapped the book shut.

"right i've read this three times now and you're a big girl right bubba? well big girls go to sleep when they're supposed to. so you and gunner-" you paused to adjust the little dinosaur plushie held tightly in your daughters grasp.

"-are going to lay here very quietly together, until you fall asleep. or else no santa! you want santa to come visit right mils?" you ran a hand through her mess of blonde hair as she nodded eagerly.

"mama!" her hand grabbed a fistful of your hoodie as you stood and ducked down to kiss her forehead. "yes baby?" you sighed with a small smile.

"cuddles till i fall asleep? pwease?" the four year old pouted, hitting you with the puppy dog eyes she knew worked like a charm on the pair of you most of the time.

"don't do that mil, you know how to do your L's properly." you warned with a look. "please! please, please, please, please-" mila begged as you sighed, seemingly more tired than she was at this rate and knowing the later she stayed up the later you and leah had to stay up to sort out her presents.

"okay! okay okay. but just for a little while, yeah?" you gave in, gently tugging her hands off you and moving to flick the big light in her room off, leaving only the small red arsenal nightlight illuminating a pathway to her door.

"bubba no-" you tried as you laid down beside her, the four year old climbing basically on top of you, her gunnasaurus plushie squished against your cheek as you exhaled, not bothered for the argument.

one hand moving to tangle in her hair your fingers moved rhythmically against her scalp, feeling her limbs ragdoll as her body became that little bit heavier, her breathing evening out against your collarbone.

you waited a few more minutes until you were sure she was properly asleep before very very carefully moving her back into bed, wincing as you struggled to detatch her arms which seemed to be locked around your neck.

though you didn't make it two steps towards the door before she awoke again, tiredly sitting up and wiping her eyes as you exhaled with a shake of your head.

"mama no! more cuddles." "no more cuddles bubba, time to go to sleep. mama will sit by the door for five minutes until you sleep again, okay?" you bargained quietly, your daughter seeming to accept that with a nod as she sank back down in bed right as you sat down on the floor.

five minutes passed though again as you tried to leave her voice rang out for you to stay and you sank back down to the floor with a frustrated sigh, gently encouraging her to lay down and try to sleep.

ten more minutes and you managed to crawl out of the room without interruption, leaving her door open ajar and returning the living room where your wife was still sat up awake, now bundled beneath a blanket.

"come here." the defender smiled knowingly, moving the blanket and adjusting to give you some room to sit between her legs, patting the sofa encouragingly.

though your ass had barely made contact before it sounded again, now both you and leah groaning quietly.

"mama! mummy! i had a bad dream!"

~

"she's down?" you asked hopefully, now sat comfortably beneath the blanket leah once was, your wife tag teaming to go and lay down with your daughter a half an hour ago, only now emerging.

"for the count." leah confirmed with a tired nod, taking a seat beside you and wiggling beneath the blanket, grabbing your legs and moving them to rest on her lap.

"shit its nearly midnight!" leah realised with a huff, tapping her phone and seeing the time as you hummed, your head resting on her shoulder. "she's a night owl like her mummy!" you teased, patting leahs chest who flicked your ear playfully.

"god i love this movie." you hummed happily, the two of you having been watching bits and pieces of the holiday as you took turns popping in and out of your daughters bedroom to try and get her to succumb to sleep so the pair of you could play santa.

and as your movie finished and there'd been no sight of mila for at least forty minutes now, you readied yourself to do just that, the presents all neatly stacked in your bedroom as leah counted quietly to make sure everything was accounted for.

"-so the bike stays here from us, and the new predator boots go out from santa." leah rolled her eyes at that making you grin, alessia having insisted her goddaughter grew up on predators boots instead of phantoms, something which had driven leah up the wall from the very moment the topic was raised, both you and your best friend adidas athletes while she was with nike.

"i'll go check she's asleep and grab the stocking off her bed, mrs claus." you winked, stealing a kiss from the grumpy blonde whose eyes rolled.

you'd grown up doing christmas a little differently from your wife, the stocking always sat on the foot of your bed rather than hung in the living room, a tradition you'd carried on through your daughter much to leahs protests it made everything ten times harder.

and tonight unfortunately, you were about to find out she was very very right.

you ever so carefully pushed open your daughters door, sticking your head in and surveying the room. "santa?" you heard a tired voice call out groggily, quickly pulling your head back and swearing under your breath, waiting by the door for a moment to see if she'd get up.

but it would seem the small blonde was at least half asleep as no footsteps sounded, and you hurried back to the bedroom where leah was nowhere to be seen, found in the living room meticulously organising the presents beneath the tree.

"we've got a problem." you sighed as she looked up with a frown and an eyebrow raised questioningly. "she's awake still? seriously? its nearly two in the morning babe this is ridiculous!" leah whispered as your eyes rolled.

"sort of, she's not quite asleep but she's not fully awake. we could wait a little while longer?" you sighed tiredly, running a hand through your hair as leah pulled a face.

"you and i both know she's not sleeping past five in the morning babe, no matter when she falls asleep, and i need sleep to deal with our families all day!" leah whined, head thumping against the wall.

"what and i don't leah? we'll just wait ten minutes and i'll check again!" you warned, your wife too tired to protest as she nodded, joining you on the lounge a few moments later.

sure enough when you popped your head in a little while later mila appeared to be sleeping, not a peep heard as you waited a few seconds to be sure, though your breath hitched as she tossed and turned suddenly.

"she's restless, i'm worried she'll wake up." you sighed as you returned to your bedroom where leah was waiting. "you're joking yeah? it'll be fine! lets just get it over and done with." the defender scoffed bluntly, trying to stand from the bed as you pushed at her chest and sent her bouncing back down.

"leah. we are not ruining the magic of christmas for our four year old daughter who loves santa." you growled tiredly, giving her a dirty look before disappearing into the en-suite, rummaging around for something.

"well we're also not being held hostage by that four year old for another hour!" your wife growled right back as she popped up in the doorway. "correct. so, time for plan b!" you stood and leahs hardened face fell seeing what you held in your hands.

"oh absolutely the fuck not. i know what you're thinking babe and thats not happening!"

only a few minutes later, it was most definitely happening despite your wives ongoing grumbles and mumbles of protest as you carefully stuck the cotton wool balls to her face.

"this is fucking ridiculous!" leah grunted unhappily, scrunching her nose up as you finished the makeshift beard, the blonde clad in a matching red arsenal tracksuit with a couple of pillows stuffed up her jumper and a white scarf tied around her waist.

"babe i look like a bloody garden gnome not santa!" leah whined as she caught sight of herself in the mirror and winced, a red arsenal beanie with a funnel under it to create somewhat of a makeshift santa hat teetering precariously on her head.

"she won't notice in the dark if she wakes up leah. you'll just crawl in, try not to wake her, get the stocking. we fill it, you crawl in and put it very carefully back, and we're off to bed!" you recounted, shoving her out of your bedroom and toward your daughters.

"go santa go!" you whispered, hand colliding with her ass encouragingly as she jumped in surprise and turned to give you a filthy look.

"oi you better watch it, elf." the blonde pointed menacingly as your eyes rolled, hiding a smile as your wife dropped to her stomach, pushing mila's door open and very carefully commando crawling inside.

you felt as though you couldn't breathe until she returned, a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing as she crawled out again a moment later dragging the stocking with her.

"don't you dare laugh." the older girl muttered, hitting you in the face with the stocking as the air of you hurried to fill it with presents quickly as possible, your breath again stopped as leah began the crawl inside to put it back.

thankfully despite a few tired mumbles and a sleepy roll over that had leah dropping flat to the floor, her mission was successful and a very sudden burst of adrenaline filled her body as she crawled out and ever so carefully pulled the door shut with a soft click.

your own bedroom door closing you squealed as a body hurtled into yours, a few loose cotton balls falling to hit you in the head as your back hit the mattress and your wife hovered over you with a cheeky grin and an all too familiar glint in her eyes.

"now i think santa deserves a little reward for all her hard hard work tonight my darling, don't you?"