#Like he might make a comment or be annoying

[chleem]

Rest of my life

One shot: bf drew x gf yn

Summary: babysitting drew’s niece leads to the realization that you’re the one for him.  

Genre: established relationship, fluff

Warnings: so sweet u get cavities

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Which girl did you knock up?” 

Is the first thing you say upon entering Drew’s apartment, your eyes landing on Drew, who has a baby securely strapped against his stomach in a white carrier, the baby looking over at you with doe eyes. 

Drew freezes for a second, then shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he sets a large bag down on the kitchen table. "Oh, y’know, some girl I met on set."

There’s a reason why you and Drew are perfect for each other; the playful banter comes so naturally between you two that it feels like breathing, like there’s no awkwardness in this situation; finding Drew with a baby you’ve never seen before. 

Although, this baby looks oddly familiar. 

“Remember Lils?” Drew asks, as you walk over to him, setting your own bag on the table as well. 

Your eyes light up at the name, recalling the times Drew would show you pictures of his niece. “Oh hi,” you immediately pitch your voice higher, making it soft and playful. The baby, with her big, curious eyes, reaches out her tiny hand, and before you even know it, she’s grabbing onto your finger. 

Her little grip is surprisingly strong, and you can’t help but smile at how adorable she is. “She grew so big,” you comment, looking up at Drew. 

He’s got a soft smile on his lips. “I’know, and I got her for the whole day.”

Your raise an eyebrow playfully at him, “I thought we’re going to the beach today.”

“Yeah, we are,” he emphasizes on that word, his eyes bouncing back between him and Lil. 

Lil lets go of your hand, so you cross your arms at Drew. You roll your eyes, yet the grin on your face gives away your amusement. “Fine. I won’t rob you of your uncle-niece time.”

A chuckle escapes Drew’s lips, and he brings you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. “Lil says it’s okay for you to be there,” his voice, low and playful, as he plants a kiss on your jaw. “Third wheel, you okay with that?”

“Delightful,” you try to sound annoyed at that idea, but really, you looked forward to it. 

Originally, it was a beach date with Drew, but his sister must’ve had some emergency, leading to the sudden babysit. You had no idea that it was going to turn out like this, but you don’t mind. 

Besides, it gives you a chance to see what uncle Drew is like. 

“Aww, don’t be jealous,” he teases, rubbing your elbow, a habit he’s grown into since knowing you. 

“I could never compete with this girl,” you smile down at Lil, whose lips slowly forms an O. You coo at her, playing with her little adorable fingers.

Drew glances down at his watch, snapping you out of the little world you’ve absorbed yourself with Lil in only a few seconds. “Hotdog stand might close. Let’s go.”

“I’m trying the taco one!” You happily chirp, remembering how the last time you went there, a long argument between the two of you resulted in you getting the pizza flavored hot dog. 

“Alright, alright,” Drew assures, taking both of the bags off the table. 

You make an attempt to grab at least one bag from him, but he declines, carrying it all the way to the car himself. 

——

Unknowingly, the whole day at the beach has passed. 

Drew had been so focused on spending time with his niece, he didn’t even notice the way the sky changed. One moment, they were splashing in the shallow waves, building sandcastles, the next, the sun was dipping low.

He walks back to the beach with hotdogs in his hands; buying the snacks now since the crowd has disappeared. 

He replays scenes of today in his mind, thinking about how easy it’s been today. How effortless it felt, spending time with you and Lil. He’d watched you interact with his niece all afternoon—how you encouraged her to explore the sand, showing her the little crabs skittering along the shoreline etc. 

And now, as he makes his way back, he can’t shake the image of you laughing with Lil, your face lighting up when the baby made a funny sound or reached out for you.

He reaches the blanket that the two of you had spread out earlier on the sand, and he glances over your shoulder, expecting to see you playing with Lil. 

Instead, he freezes. 

There you are, holding his niece in your arms. Lil’s fast asleep, her little body relaxed against your chest. 

Drew’s first thought is how cute his niece is. 

His eyes then drift over to you; And that’s when it hits him.

The realization of this moment, the quiet way you’re holding his baby niece, strikes him. His heart skips a beat as he watches you, a quiet warmth flooding his chest. 

The sight of you with her, so natural, so right, feels more profound than anything he expected.

What is this feeling? He thinks.

He tries to shake it off. It’s not just about Lil. It’s about you, the way you make everything feel so simple, so easy. He never expected to see you like this, to see you so gentle, so present.

Is this what love feels like? He doesn’t know. But in that moment, staring at the two of you, something in him clicks. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it’s there—this pull, this feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything he thought he wanted was right here in front of him.

“Drew?” 

Your voice is gentle and soft as you call out for him, afraid to wake the baby up. 

Your gaze meets his, and for a second, the world feels smaller. His heart skips again, mind racing around as he scrambles for words in his mind. 

“Hey,” he manages to breathe out, sitting down beside you. He’s careful with his movements, even when handing you your hotdog to your free hand. His lips curl into a soft smile,  almost shy, “she’s out cold, huh?”

He watches as you completely ignore his words, biting down on the hotdog you’ve been waiting for for the whole day. His smile grows; his mind reminded of how easy it is to be around you. It’s not that you’ve said much or done anything extraordinary—just the way you seem to savor the simple things, like food, time spent together—it draws him in every time.

“Good?” Drew asks, teasing hinted in his voice, yet his eyes soften as he waits for your answer. 

“Strange. The pizza flavor’s better,” you comment through chews. 

Laughter erupts in his chest, making you look confusingly at him. You swallow, looking at him with doe eyes. “Let me take her,” he says, his hands reaching for his niece. 

You let him, mainly because of how hungry you are. The exchange is smooth; he now holds Lil in his arms, and you hold onto the two hotdogs, eating away one of them. 

“Y/n?”

You quickly finish the bite, humming at Drew continue talking. He’s looking at you with a soft gaze, almost smitten. He calls for your name, but doesn’t say anything. 

“You want a bite?” You ask, filling in the silence. 

Drew chuckles, and with his free hand, he pulls you by the back of your neck closer to him. He kisses you, slow and soft. You relax under his touch, letting the warm and bubbly feeling flow through you. 

You eventually pull away, needing to catch your breath. Drew’s lips are apart as he stares at you; the look in his eyes making it hard to steady your heartbeat. 

For seconds that felt like minutes, silence lingers between you two, eyes locked into each others’ as if any move, would disturb the calmness of this moment. 

Well, the moment is disturbed, because the smell of poop enters the air, as well as the sound of crying. 

Lil's awake, and in a stinky emergency.

You’re the first to pull away, chuckling as you glance down at Lil. “Shit.”

“Yup,” he purses his lips. You get ready to put the hotdogs down, wanting to help change her diapers, when Drew stops you. “I’ll do it.”

“Do I even have the appetite anymore?” You joke, the smile reappearing on Drew’s lips after hearing that. 

“When do you not?” He comments, setting Lil down and reaching for the diaper bag. 

You hit his arm playfully again, laughter coming out of you. You turn and look out onto the ocean waves, putting the hotdogs down to the side.

This moment right here? You want to remember it always. Remember this beach, this adorable little baby, this hotdog (just important as everything else), and this man, that you’ve found yourself to rely on more than you should. 

You hope Drew feels the same way too; that this moment right now, will forever be engraved in your heart. 

Little did you know; it's already engraved in his, as the moment he fell in love with you. 

The moment he realized, that you’re who he wants for the rest of his life. 

-------------------------------

word count: 1.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: my first time writing something of pure fluff...hope you enjoyed reading! i was in the mode for something sweet, craving a bf real bad T_T

and yes, im a creep that stalked his sister's ig to find the name of his niece. im sorry im sorry im sorry

[fatherbrat]

every bone in your body knows you shouldn’t invite him in.

it’s a good thing you’re thinking with your clit!

kuroo is smirking when you open your front door, that smug all-knowing expression sitting pretty on his face. you barely even manage to get him inside before you’re all over each other. 

“missed me?” he breathes between kisses, but you don’t respond, too preoccupied with getting him to your bedroom without losing skin-to-skin contact or bumping into any furniture.

your shirt’s already been discarded somewhere between the living room and the laundry room. his hands are making quick work of unzipping your shorts, and somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder why you bothered wearing clothes anyways. you both know there’s only one reason you’d invite him over after dark.

when you sit on the edge of your bed you’re annoyed to find him wearing a belt. you pause briefly, silently questioning why he chose to forgo the typical sweats. reading your mind, kuroo explains. “i came straight here from work.” it isn’t until then you notice the black button-up he’s also wearing—the mandated uniform you both share.

it’s the perfect reality check. isn’t this exactly why you had to leave your last serving job? it’s never a good idea to fuck your coworkers. you pull back, resting your hands in your lap.

“this isn’t a good idea. you should go home. i’m sorry i texted.” you glance up at him, only to be surprised at the pitying look he’s giving you.

he kneels in front of you, his unbuckled belt clinking at the movement. all of his previous smugness has been washed away, replaced with a specific kind of anguish. you don’t bother thinking about whether it’s genuine or not. does it matter? his hands find your knees, rubbing gentle circles with each thumb.

“but you texted me for a reason right?” his voice is soft. imploring. desperate.

he’s looking up at you like a starving man, begging for a morsel. he pushes your knees apart gently, stopping halfway and catching your eyes again, a silent plea.

you only hesitate for a moment before nodding. you already fucked this particular coworker. would be a shame to stop now!

he wastes no time, fingers hooking the waistband of your shorts and your underwear almost immediately.

“lift your hips for me, baby.” you obey, and are rewarded with a lingering kiss to your inner thigh.

“i promise i’ll do all the work from here.” another kiss. “just relax, okay?” kiss. “i’m gonna take my time.”

you gasp when his mouth finds your clit, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles. you can feel him smiling against your skin at your reaction, but he doesn’t say anything, just continues his painfully slow ministrations. 

you have half a mind to dig your fingers into his hair and yank his face closer. but you don’t, not in the mood for whatever snarky comment he might throw your way in response.

kuroo can sense your impatience before you say anything anyway. your fingertips pressing into his scalp speak volumes. he slips two of his fingers inside you, curling them up against your g-spot. 

the sensation has your back arching up off the bed. kuroo doesn’t miss a beat, laying his free hand on your stomach and lowering you back down onto the bed. 

his mouth never leaves your cunt, licking and sucking and slurping until that familiar tautness takes over your muscles.

“fuck,” you hiss. “tetsu, i think i’m gonna—“

he already knows. his fingers brush your g-spot one more time before he pulls them out of you and replaces them with his tongue, his nose nudging your clit. 

you scream his name as you come, pulling him deeper into your cunt as a stream of fluid erupts from you. you’re all tingly by the time you let him come up for air. 

kuroo’s beaming at you when he pulls away, the bottom half his face wet and glistening. 

“i love when you do that,” he says, licking his lips as he tugs his pants down. 

you roll your eyes as you scoot up the bed, but the action seems tamer than usual post-orgasm. kuroo only smiles wider, shifting his attention to unbuttoning his shirt before he climbs onto the bed with you. 

he’s already hard, tapping his tip on your sticky clit. “let’s make a bet.”

you tilt your head to the side and raise an eyebrow. “what kind of bet?”

“if i can make you squirt again tonight, you have to work my shift tomorrow night.”

it takes everything in you not to laugh. “and if you can’t?”

kuroo shrugs. “i’ll work your next shift. and i’ll give you all the tips i make that night. it’ll be like pto.”

he stops tapping, just letting his cock rest against you. the two of you share a look when you twitch. you both know you’re going to lose. 

“deal.”

[sturnswrites]

the couples menu

bsf!chris x fem!reader

⤳ fluff

⤳ you and chris have been best friends for forever, but after an unexpected comment at your favorite diner, you both start to question how you really feel for each other.

---------------------------------------------

The diner buzzed with its usual evening crowd, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation creating a comforting background noise. You and Chris had been coming here for years, ever since high school. There was something safe about this place—the worn vinyl booths, the sticky tabletops, the flickering neon sign outside that read “Best Pie in Town.”

Chris sat across from you, lazily stirring his Pepsi with his straw, his head tilted as he listened to you recount the latest chaos from your day.

“And then,” you said, waving your hands for emphasis, “he just walked away! Like he didn’t just spill an entire coffee on me. No apology, no offer to help. Just gone.”

Chris leaned back in the booth, shaking his head. “That’s wild. Honestly, I think you scare people sometimes. Maybe he thought you were gonna yell at him.”

“I do not scare people,” you protested, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh, you definitely do.” He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Chris!”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve got that whole fiery thing going on. It’s intimidating.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you as they twitched upward.

“Anyway,” he said, leaning forward, “did you at least get a new coffee?”

“Of course. I wasn’t about to let him ruin my day and deprive me of caffeine.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your heart stuttered at the casual endearment, but you quickly brushed it off. Chris had always been like this—teasing, affectionate, comfortable. You had been best friends for, well, forever. It didn’t mean anything… right? 

Before you could spiral too much, the waitress appeared at your table with a laminated menu. She was probably in her forties, with kind eyes and a warm smile that felt like an invitation to trust her.

“You two are just the cutest,” she said, placing the menu between you.

You blinked, glancing at Chris, who looked equally confused. “Uh, thanks?”

“I thought you might like to see our Couples Special,” she continued, gesturing to the menu. “It’s perfect for lovebirds like you.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Couple,” Chris finished quickly, holding up his hands. “We’re not a couple.”

The waitress looked between the two of you, clearly unconvinced, but she just smiled knowingly. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

She walked away, leaving you both sitting there in stunned silence.

Chris was the first to break it, a laugh escaping his lips. “Well, that was… something.”

“She thought we were a couple,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Can you blame her? We’re here all the time, we’re laughing, having a great time. We probably do look like a couple.”

You stared at him, your heart doing that annoying flutter thing it had been doing lately whenever he was around. “You’re not seriously saying we should just go along with it.”

“I’m saying,” he said, picking up the menu, “ten bucks off dessert isn’t a bad deal.”

“Chris!”

“What? It’s practical. Plus, free dessert.”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help laughing. He always had a way of making things light, even when your stomach was doing anxious flips.

The rest of the meal went on mostly as usual, though you couldn’t shake the lingering tension from the waitress’s assumption. Every so often, Chris would catch your eye, a small smile tugging at his lips, like he was amused by the whole situation.

When the bill came, the waitress gave you another warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hope you two have a lovely night.”

Chris thanked her, his voice smooth and easy, but you felt like your face might catch fire.

Outside, the evening air was cool against your flushed skin. You walked side by side toward Chris’s car, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping just short of the car.

You turned to face him, your pulse quickening at the serious look on his face. “What’s up?”

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his gaze flicking to the ground before meeting yours. “Can we talk about tonight? The whole ‘couple menu’ thing?”

Your stomach twisted, heart beating faster and faster. “What about it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “It just… it got me thinking. About us.”

Your heart was pounding now, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “What about us?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, don’t you think it’s weird? Like, why does everyone always assume we’re together?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I guess we spend a lot of time together. People just assume.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I think it’s more than that,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s the way we are around each other. We laugh, we tease, we’re comfortable. I don’t blame people for thinking we’re a couple because… sometimes, I think about it too.”

You froze, his words hitting you like a tidal wave. Your voice came down to a whisper from the shock you were feeling. “You… what?” 

He sighed, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Y/N, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Years actually. And tonight just made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

Your breath caught, your heart hammering in your chest. “Chris…”

“I get it if you don’t feel the same way,” he rushed on, his voice tinged with nervousness. “I just… I had to tell you. Even if it messes things up, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I can’t keep moving on wondering what could be between us.”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a confusing mess of shock, joy, and fear. Finally, you took a shaky step forward. “Chris, I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I feel the same way. I think I’ve been in love with you for years, and I was just too scared to admit it. I’ve tried so hard to move past it because I never wanted it to be the reason that I… lost you.” as you swallowed hard unsure of what he was going to say next. 

His eyes widened, hope flickering across his face. “You mean that?”

You nodded, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah. I mean that.”

Relief washed over him, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like he never wanted to let go.

“I was so scared I’d ruin everything,” he murmured into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “If anything, you made it better.”

He smiled, his eyes shining as he leaned his forehead against yours. “So… are we a couple now?”

You grinned, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I guess we are.”

“Good,” he said, his voice steady. “Because I don’t think I could ever let you go.”

And just like that, everything between you and Chris fell into place, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.

---------------------------------------------

still don’t really know what I’m doing but this was fun to write 😛

⭒ margot

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

Would love to read something about Johnny or price grovelling to the missus after an argument or something and her making him work for it

Omgg this is Johnny coded (though I might redo this one and do Price instead because like... Yeah :) )

Warnings: mentions of smut, but other than that it's good :)

AN: I'm sick rn, but I was less lethargic while writing this!

"Bonnie.." he whines out, head resting on your stomach, "c'mon.. gimme a break.."

Johnny acts like this every *single* time you both argue. His fault or yours, he always gets those stupid(ly adorable) puppy dog eyes and huffs and pouts until he gets his way -straight inside you.-

"I said 'm sorrae, lovie... I meant it," Johnny mumbles out, reaching up and out to grab your breasts.

You let out a scoff, "John." He's immediately deterred, pulling his hand away and letting it waver in the air.

"Bonnie."

"What are you trying to do here, hm?" You ask, crossing your arms. He sits up beside your figure, resting his hands awkwardly in his lap.

"Bonnie.." he tries again, a slight whine to his voice, "C'mon.. y'know I wan'it, an' you're wantin' too, your panties are probably sopping."

You flush at the comment, he wasn't necessarily wrong, but it annoyed you.

"No, Johnny. You can't sleep your way into being forgiven," you say, trying your damnedest to hold out and not be spread out over your bed in about five minutes. He pouts a little harder, this time leaning in.

"Bonnie.." he whines, closing the distance and softly kissing you. You let him do this, kissing back with no ferver or fire. He groans in annoyance and pulls back, grabbing your jaw and turning your face, "Don' be a sourpuss, bonnie.." he grumbles, causing you to chuckle.

He leans in again and kisses you, it's romantic and nice and perfect--just like Johnny. This time you kiss back, your lips a soft embrace over his own. He cups your cheeks, climbing on top of you when you break away.

"You cheeky devil.." you mumble, arms going around Johnny's neck, shaking your head.

"I know I am, you love i', bonnie," he responds, straddling your hips and leaning in to kiss you again. His hands cradle you, holding you like you're special and need to be loved. He pulls back after a small peck, looking into your eyes, almost expectantly.

You let out a heavy sigh, "I always cave," you grumble, rolling your eyes before saying, "Yes, you're forgiven."

He leans in eagerly, kissing you with all the passion he can muster. His tongue is running along your bottom lip, his hands holding you against him.

Needless to say he's forgiven.

[wrathofrats]

Seeing Blind (you’re too good to be all mine)

Chapter 5. Mature, 2.4k. Read under cut or on Ao3

(Part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

As always thank you to @divine-misfortune for writing this with me <3

Rain whipped around. Confused to see Dew running up to him from the side field, brushing debris off of his overalls. They had never spoken before, at least not directly like this. Small quips and comments when he finds himself at Swiss’ side that sound like they’re meant to be digs directed at him despite the fact Dew barely acknowledged his presence.

“I’m sorry?”

“I think we should have a talk“

It’s Rain’s turn to barely sleep in Swiss’ arms. His head swimming with a tirade of thought. Was he not good enough? Did he do something wrong? Go too fast? Maybe Swiss just didn’t want him in the same way he did?

He could feel how hard he was against his back for a good portion of the night. Rationally, most of that couldn’t possibly be true. Why would Swiss assume he wasn’t ready for it? None of it made sense and it left a strange, conflicted feeling in him. Not quite dejected but certainly confused.

At least he could finally sleep comfortably beside him, in a bed, like real people who like each other do.

When the sun threatens to crest the horizon, Swiss is shifting behind him. Moving carefully. Thoughtfully trying not to jostle Rain awake, no reason for him to have to adhere to the ungodly early schedule Swiss kept. It’s a hopeless effort but it was the thought that counted. Rain stirred as the arm beneath his head began to retreat, making a soft sound he could only describe as a chirp. His eyes fight to open, drooping despite himself, as Swiss slipped from the cozy little cocoon they’d made.

“Shh tadpole��Go back to sleep”

Cute. Rain looked beyond adorable and Swiss suddenly understood the meaning of ‘cuteness aggression’. The messy hair and blush coloring his cheeks the loveliest shade of pink was entirely unfair, but the way he managed to bat those pretty eyelashes was playing dirty.

“Just’a couple more minutes Swiss, ‘lease” Rain mumbled his way right into a yawn, tugging at Swiss’ shirt like he might just drag him back into bed like this.

“I’ve gotta go, I can’t be late. But come see me on my break, ‘kay?”

Swiss smoothed the hair from his forehead, dipping down to kiss the little crease between his brows before Rain’s head dropped back to the pillow with a small whine that he gives up on committing to when the comforters pulled back over him. Hard not to snuggle back in, harder not to bury his face in the other pillow to inhale the comfortable lingering scent like he might just pretend Swiss was still beside him.

Didn’t stop him from pouting though.

Leaving Rain was a real test of his will but dutifully Swiss dragged himself away. It was safer for him to duck out as early as this, less of a chance of being caught by the wrong person. He woefully stuffed his feet back into his muddy boots abandoned by the front door and trudged outside towards his truck.

He prayed it was too early for anyone else to be lurking about, and if it had to be anyone, let it be Mountain.

But God had a sense of humor, apparently.

Dew and cirrus were waiting for him with wolfish grins near the tractor, immediately trying to prod him for answers.

"Well well well, smooth talked your way right into his bed huh?" Dew laughed

"Didn't take him for easy.” Cirrus folds her arms looking over his sorry, disheveled state.

"So how was he? Did he even know what he was doing? Was it embarrassingly bad? That why you're doing the walk of shame before the suns even up?" Dew gasped at the promise of scandal, hanging off of Cirrus’ arm with a smirk like he was pleased with himself.

Swiss couldn’t tell if he wanted them to die or if he'd like a stampede of cattle to take him out then and there. Honestly, didn't know if they even deserved a response. Probably shouldn’t. All their senseless prodding, he shouldn’t dignify it but God Dew was too fucking annoying to ignore at times.

“We didn’t do anything” Swiss pushed past them to make the hike back to his truck so he could at least change. Boss might give him weird looks for showing up in yesterday's wrinkled clothes.

“Oh, sure. Totally. So, tell me, he invites you in and you spend the night doing what exactly? A kiss on the cheek before turning off the lights at nine on the dot so you can sleep on opposite sides of the bed with both hands above the covers?” Dew questions incredulously, with an oddly specific example. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever fucking met, Swiss!”

Swiss winced at the volume of his voice, nervously eyeing the farmhouse standing silently as he gestured aggressively for him to shut the fuck up. Rain would be mortified if he knew the others were talking about him in this fashion.

“Love that Swiss thinks he can lie his way out of shit like this, as if you of all people don’t know what he looks like after a long night.” Cirrus snickers behind her hand and Dew suddenly looks appalled.

“Oh my fucking god it was one time!”

“It was a couple times actually-“

Like a thief in the night, Swiss uses their endless bickering as an excuse to slip away from their interrogation. He climbed into the backseat of his truck and rummaged under the passenger seat - working a job like this, he learned early on to keep a change of clothes on hand. It was awkward to say the least. He was not a dainty man and the back of his truck was far from spacious but he managed to climb out only having smashed his elbow into the window twice. Seemingly just in time. The crunch of gravel and the sharp squeaks of a poor suspension announced their arrival before the truck branded with an all too familiar logo rounded the bend.

His head snapped around alarmingly fast, met with mischievous grins from the both of them. He bristled. “Not a fucking word or I’m telling him to drug test you two.” Swiss hissed, both warning and threatening. Dew made a face, opening his mouth to retort but Cirrus was faster. Sticking out her tongue in his direction before grabbing him by the arm and leading him away to where they would pretend to work for the next two hours.

As they left him standing beside his truck, Swiss watched Rain’s father get out of the truck with clearly stiffened limbs. His throat felt tight as he looked his way, fearing that just maybe he knew but the man just regarded him with a curt nod and a gruff good morning, then headed inside.

Swiss wanted to close his head in the door of his truck, multiple times.

It was going to be a long fucking day.

Rain slipped out the back door an hour or so after lunch. Wearing exhaustion and semi untamed curls, a brand of disheveled he’d never sported before. He was off the schedule they’d taken to over the last few weeks. Swiss’ lunch break was a little before two, and it was currently well past. Swiss could sigh and huff all he liked about him sleeping in and shirking his fruit picking responsibilities, as well as what he’d woefully described as ‘kiss withdrawls’, but Rain truly couldn’t be faulted for sleeping in. His sheets smelled like warm tobacco and aftershave, a little bit like hay and whatever it was truly encompassed Swiss. It was hard for rain to leave in the morning, silently hoping it would linger until he got back that night.

“Rain! I’ve been looking for you!”

Rain whipped around. Confused to see Dew running up to him from the side field, brushing debris off of his overalls. They had never spoken before, at least not directly like this. Small quips and comments when he finds himself at Swiss’ side that sound like they’re meant to be digs directed at him despite the fact Dew barely acknowledged his presence.

“I’m sorry?”

“I think we should have a talk, can you come here for a minute?” Dew kicked some rocks and pursed his lips at rain who looked more than confused. He looked around for Swiss, to see if this was one of his shenanigans or could at least save him from whatever was happening.

Dew knew their routine. Knew exactly how to intersect Rain’s path before he could go attach himself to Swiss like an overgrown leech. It was almost too easy for him to find and stop him. If Rain had any more confidence in himself he would’ve told Dew to leave him alone, return the same disdain Dew had regarded him with from the start, but he was alarmingly forward. Grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him with surprising ease towards the tractor for a bit more privacy. Less of a chance they’d be interrupted.

Dew, and the other workers by extension were far from fond of him. Swiss was the outlier. Rain knew fighting him on this would cause nothing but trouble.

“Where are you going by the way? Thought you didn’t have to do your small share of work till later.” Whatever over sweetness he’d greeted him with dropped from his tone, borderline sneering at him instead.

“Dad asked me to check on one of the cows, said she looked in bad shape this morning.” Rain readjusted the bag on his shoulder, eyes flitting towards the field with a silent prayer that Swiss might just happen to pop up. Save him from whatever he’d walked into.

“Bullshit,” Dew barely stopped himself from laughing at his lie. “He would’ve mentioned it to us, not you.” Dew crossed his arms, leaning on the tractor. Casually and subtly blocking off Rain’s easy exit back to the yard.

“Ok…Then what do you think I’m doing?” Rain scoffed and rolled his eyes. This was dumb, they both had better things to be doing.

“Considering that brown paper sack in your hands, and the little birdie that talks about you in the barn, I’d say you’re bringing Swiss a snack for his break” it’s the slight flick of his eyes that answers the silent accusation.

“I don’t see how what I do with my time is any of your business” Rain's voice was almost entirely confident, almost. The faintest waver under his incredulous stare. It was hard to hold steady when someone as intense as Dew was interrogating him like he was caught about to do something downright sinister.

“Well I just think it’s funny how much time you spend with him. All of your breaks, sneaking out to go to the bonfire, spending the night?” He practically hissed his last point. “Thought your dad didn’t like you spending too much time with people like us. Weird, huh?”

“I’m not like that, I’m not my father.” Rain felt almost guilty as dew continued to stare at him like he was disgusted. Had he really been that bad? He didn’t think he was that much of a priss before Swiss came around.

“Oh you aren’t? Rain, all you do is sit on your throne and occasionally feed the animals or pick fruit for daddy’s approval. I’ve heard what he’s said, what you’ve said.”

His face, with whatever increasingly anxious expression he’d been sporting, fell instantly. Comments from his father over the years rooted in overworked frustration when profits didn’t balance out costs, when equipment turned up broken, when the work wasn't done to his standards. Blindly throwing blame on his workers. And Rain, a teenager vying for his parent’s approval, stupidly echoed the sentiment more than once and turned his nose up at them and the work they did. Even went out of his way to avoid the lot of them at the behest of his father.

“Dew, I’m sorry…I never-“

“All I’m saying is don’t fuck around and break Swiss’ heart just because you’ve decided to enjoy the attention from the peasants” Dew spat. His tone growing increasingly more frustrated as the months or years of indignation began to finally bubble to the surface.

“That’s not-“ A finger is held up before he can begin to explain himself, effectively shutting him up before he could stammer any further.

“Save it princess, I don’t want to hear it! I’m warning you to stop fucking around with him - Swiss doesn’t deserve to be some passing fancy till you’re able to go back to that prestigious university of yours.”

Rain opened his mouth and quickly closed it when he couldn’t manage any sound. Dread filled his stomach and began clawing its way up his throat. Choking him.

Is that really what they all thought of him? Is that what Swiss thought all of this was?

“You’re a smart guy, yeah? You should be smart enough to know not to cross this clear line in the sand that you and your dad drew a long time ago. Go back to your fucking tower and stay there.”

And as quickly as his tirade began, it ended with Dew turning on his heel and storming off with his fists clenched at his sides. He’d said more than enough for Rain to get the message; none of them wanted anything to do with him, Swiss just didn’t know it yet. They all harbored a level of resentment Rain hadn’t quite comprehended apparently.

Rain didn’t walk after him. Stays rooted in place watching Dew stalk off towards the fields until the vague shape of him becomes blurry. Tears burned in his eyes. All he could do was shrink into himself and return to the house where he promptly shoved the paper bag to the bottom of the trash can. At least there, he could pretend he’d never made it to begin with.

Was he stupid? He felt like an idiot for ever thinking he could really have something as genuine as this.

Heat radiated within his chest and made itself known in the form of blotchy redness in his cheeks. He retreated to his room, bag dropped steps in front of his door in order to throw himself onto his bed like a teenage girl with a broken heart. They weren’t anything and yet it felt like his rib cage was caving in. Guilt, shame, and humiliation danced inside him. Mingled into a single sensation that made his throat painfully tight.

Rain hiccuped over a half sob, shoving both pillows off the bed and onto the floor. He didn’t need the reminder. With both pillows out of the way, he was met with the cotton candy blue shark he’d stuffed into hiding the night before. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and pulled the plush against himself. Childish comforts.

Dew was right, telling him the things he was too selfish to acknowledge. None of them wanted him around, and maybe Swiss didn’t really either. Did Swiss only humor him because he was the boss’ son? Placate ‘the princess’ to keep his job. Dew was right. He didn’t deserve Swiss.

[deathfavor]

so I was approved to Friday off, and so i figured I'd use my floating holiday since it doesn't roll over like PTO and idk when else I'll use it this year. But Friday is also Hanma's birthday so he's sitting here all smug like a holiday huh

[moeblob]

So, lore?

Lo'en is a half elf and across the world there are designated elven kingdoms. One of them! Where she was born and her mother (elf) still lives, is frigid and in the north. Humans still have an odd tradition for Santa and so she hides her slightly pointed ears so that she doesn't have to sit through ANOTHER "Saint Nick" story that the northern elf king refuses to be offended by. His name is Niklava and he rather LIKES the association of how giving the cold can be! Lo'en could easily live without hearing another comment about ol' Saint Nick and his elves though.

Hold, while technically human/mortal, is cursed to live life over and over. And he has plant/green powers. He gets a lot of the "oh you'll grow up to be fine one of these days!" "you're still a sprout in this life time" "you still have time to bloom then!" and he also hates it.

Because Hold has to continue living even after he dies (though his body regresses to a child like age as he "recovers from death") he's absolutely enamored with Lo'en who just continues to exist. Her life span is way longer than a humans, longer than his /should/ be. And he admires her a lot and is really grateful to have her around for so many of his lives lived. Lo'en is relieved to have someone she gets along with who won't die and leave her forever. He dies, sure, but he gets better.

Lo'en meets Hold first while during one of his sister's dead phases so that's why the two are much closer than Lo'en is to Hold's sister. The two girls do help keep Hold safe when he's dead but they aren't super best friends or anything.

[steakout-05]

medic tf2 doodles?!?!?? in this economy!???!?!? (art from yesterday)

most gentle and sweet middle aged german man in the whole entire world smile vs planning to swap all of your organs with a series of interconnected frogs smile

a doodle i did of Medic and Archimedes.... he looks too round in this drawing, not smug and evil enough..... also Mitzi from the RAE appearance :D

i LOVE the voicelines Medic has with Haunted Archimedes, he's not disturbed or even slightly put off by the fact that his zombified dove is 1. talking and 2. has a violent and constant craving for brains. he's just like. being a slightly irritated pet owner about it. he's just like "ugh yes archimedes vants all zhe brains doesn't he. now shut up". also i think this is the most on-model medic drawing i've ever done wtf

[tiktaaliker]

ok actually it kinda sucks that veilguard only lets you input veryyyy basic shit about events of dragon age inquisition (ie you can edit the inquisitor, choose who you romanced, and choose what happened to the inquisition itself at the end of the dlc). fucking EXTREME downgrade. like are we just going to pretend that the first and second games dont exist. just like. mannnn in inquisition i thought it was SO cool that you could ask varric about hawke and he would talk about My Hawke and My Choices. and then theres just random moments in both 2 and inquisition where something happens and you realize OH SHIT THATS BECAUSE OF A CHOICE I MADE IN THE PREVIOUS GAME!!!! like werewolves showing up in a quest in 2 because i helped the werewolves in origins! AND WHAT ABOUT KIERAN!!!!!!! i was wondering how veilguard was going to handle kieran and so far it looks like the answer is not at all

[thedevotionaltour]

i havent even read enough gl to justify the feelings and emotions i have about kyle i just have the lovers heart and also something wrong with me. and my projection. in my mind he's just like me. and he would have loved college vending machine frozen cheeseburger and heating it up in the microwave at 1 in the morning because he was bored and didn't want to work on a drawing assignment on 20" x 30" paper that was due tomorrow in his freshman year. he would have loved going to the club to push off finals work that's creating the worst stress known to man in his brain. and he would love to annoy the fuck out of his roommate when high and avoiding homework on a saturday.

[aflawedfashion]

I hope Doug gets a win in the finale because this season really decided to destroy everything he loves and he needs a come back

[darabeatha]

ㅤㅤㅤOh he's going to kill you one of these days Ozymandias....

[softquietsteadylove]

I really like the Thenamesh Actor prompts so I have a request!

Gil always makes sure that Thena is comfortable in interviews . So what if on their new movie both of them and Eros are in a interview and throughout Eros, out of jealousy and frustration of their incredible chemistry (and because he can’t get closer to Thena) he says something humiliating disguised as jokes about Gil. Gil being polite just laughs about it but Thena can clearly see how uncomfortable his jokes/humiliations makes him and how awfully quiet he slowly gets and Thena (you know the goddes of war clearly) protects him!

"Gil!" Thena chastised, although she was laughing a bit hard for it to sound like she meant it. "Stop it!"

The whole panel had been like this. They were doing one of the first interviews with all of them assembled as a cast, but Gil and Thena had been thus far dominating the interview. It wasn't odd - they were technically the leads of the film - but it was hard to get answers between their whispering things to each other and joking and laughing.

Eros couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"What?" Gil chuckled along with her, nudging her next to him. "It's true! I was a huge fan of yours before we met!"

"Speak for yourself," she smiled at him, leaning her head against her hand. "I've stated plenty of times that I've seen a good number of your films."

"Have you seen all of them?"

"I think it would be quite impossible to see all of them," she shook her head, pulling her attention back to the audience of press interviewing them. "But I was shown some of his early work and I suppose I was hooked from there."

"Likewise," Gil jumped in next, wiggling his thumb between them, although it brushed against her forearm, their chairs being so close that their armrests were actually touching. "I've always thought about what it might be like to work with her."

"Eros, this is actually your first time working with both of them, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, sitting forward in his seat, finally with some opportunity to speak. "I've never worked with Gil before, and I've only ever worked on the same project as Thena once or twice. I've never had the immense privilege to work opposite her."

The audience was obliging in his flattery. Eros looked down the long table's white cloth, only to find he wasn't actually being listened to--at least not by a certain leading lady.

Gil was listening, looking down the line at Eros. But from his viewpoint, Eros could see very clearly, that Thena wasn't looking at him. She was looking at Gilgamesh.

Eros cleared his throat, "he really is great to work with, stunt-wise."

Gil waved off Eros' kindness with a bashful smile, toying with his microphone in his hands. Thena poked him, urging him to accept the well-deserved compliment. He caught her poking index finger with his pinky. "I'm not union or anything. But I've been doing my own stunts long enough that I guess I like to offer my advice when I can."

"Right, I heard about a rather nasty spill," Eros tilted his head down at the older actor. "You know, there's no shame in needing a double as time goes on."

He said it lightly--with enough of a laugh in his voice for it to appear friendly. The audience chuckled obligingly.

Thena was not laughing. "That was a very serious incident."

Gil caught onto the tone in her voice immediately and smiled, "i-it wasn't that bad, really-"

"And it was an equipment malfunction," she added with even more of a bite to it. The tone in the room shifted quickly, of course at Thena's protest and not at the original joke cracked at Gil's expense. But she glared at the head of the table. "Gil does his own stunts when it makes more sense to for the filming process. He's just that sweet and considerate of people."

"Of course!" the original asker of the question jumped in, hoping to save the atmosphere of the interview as a whole. "His fans were quite distressed to learn of his injury."

"Not your first, right?" Eros asked, his thin veil of asking out of kindness growing thinner and thinner.

"Well, yeah, it happens," Gil shrugged, either not catching onto Eros' attacks or choosing to let them roll off him. "Can't always avoid little accidents here and there. The fans who have followed my career know this is far from my first set injury, and far from the worst, too."

"I've heard about them," Thena added vaguely, always vigilant about not giving the press too much exposure to Sprite. "And he's always back to work as soon as possible--far too dedicated to his work."

Gil was immediately looking at Thena again, smiling and chatting with her as if they were the only ones in the room (and just happened to be holding microphones). "As if she didn't learn flawless Russian for her summer action blockbuster from a few years ago?"

"Gil," she gave him that little headshake again, like a wife scolding her husband for embarrassing her.

"I mean flawless," Gil insisted, though, grinning as the praise for her spewed from him like a fountain. "I'm no expert, but I've seen accent coaches and other actors react to it, and they all say it's perfect--just like her."

The audience gasped and 'ooh'ed and giggled like children.

Thena blushed, "far too sweet."

"I remember that film, it was," Eros paused, leaning over further to give Thena a look that she was sure his hordes of fangirls loved. He raised a brow at her, "magnificent."

"Thena, have you followed any of Eros' work?"

"I can't say I have," she answered a little too quickly and eagerly.

"Well, you have a younger sister, right? What about-"

"No," she snapped, and was joined by Gil in glaring at the interviewer who either hadn't been informed that she didn't answer questions about her sister or had ignored it.

Eros ran a hand through his very famous hair, leaning back in his chair.

"But," Thena smiled again, her eyes drifting beside her (what a surprise). "She is a fan of Gil's."

[fappellmoan]

anyway. i am going to be SO incredibly livid and angry and throwing an absolute tantrum on thursday if i dont get good feedback on my script.

[nomairuins]

i unlocked a new voice earlier btw but i cant do it that much bc it requires me to be nervously laughing and breathing very heavily and it had me gasping for breath for like 30 minutes

[chosok-amo]

I F☆CK HATE EMO BOYS s. geto & k. choso

☆ sum. you hate emo boys, you hate how they pretend to be all dark and mysterious, you also hate how they wear nothing but black. there are two emo boys in your class and they seem to notice the hate inside your body— if they d☆ck you down sooo good, are still going to hate emo boys?

warning. college au, dōuble-penetration, manhandling, ōral ( m receiving ), fingēring, semi-public space, anāl, unprotected sēx, geto is annoying,

you hate emo boys.

you sit cross-legged on the floor of the cramped music room, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glare daggers at the two so-called emo boys sitting on the stage with you. it’s your final project for the semester, and of course, you got stuck with them—choso and geto. you’re already mentally drained by their whole “dark and brooding” shtick, and the fact that they’re in the same art and music major only ensures you’re forced to endure it day after day.

choso is hunched over his electric guitar, strumming out a tune that sounds suspiciously similar to every other broody song he’s ever played. his face is painted with that classic distant, “nobody gets me” expression that makes you want to roll your eyes so far back they might get stuck. meanwhile, geto, who is supposed to be helping with the composition, is lounging on the stage like he owns the place, cigarette dangling from his lips, blowing smoke rings as if he’s above it all.

your patience is wearing thin.

“you know,” you say, voice laced with sarcasm, “sitting around and looking like a dark cloud doesn’t exactly count as helping.”

geto tilts his head, smirking as he blows another lazy ring of smoke, seemingly unfazed by your irritation. his long black hair falls in messy strands around his face, half-tied up in some kind of “effortlessly cool” way that, unfortunately, does suit him. but god, it’s infuriating. the urge to yank that stupid ponytail and force him to actually do something is almost unbearable.

“i am helping,” he drawls, voice dripping with boredom as he stretches out, reclining back on his elbows. “just by being here, i’m setting the mood.”

choso stifles a laugh, not even bothering to hide his amusement at your irritation. you shoot him a glare that could freeze fire, and he just shrugs, clearly used to geto’s antics. “yeah,” choso chimes in, plucking a single, somber note, “besides, nobody asked you to be here either.”

“unfortunately, the professor did,” you mutter under your breath. you’re practically boiling with annoyance, fists clenching. “and we’re supposed to be collaborating, not indulging in whatever dark poet wannabe persona you’re both putting on.”

geto smirks wider, taking another drag of his cigarette as he looks you up and down. “oh, you mean you don’t appreciate my brooding, enigmatic aura? i’m just trying to channel my inner tortured artist,” he responds with mock sincerity. “we’re not all about sunshine and rainbows like you, princess. some of us have a deeper connection to music.”

choso is still snickering as he strums out another note, the two emo boys clearly enjoying your irritation. choso meets geto’s eye with a playful look, as though they’re both in on some secret joke, but you can’t decipher the silent communication between them. he grins, clearly enjoying how easy it is to rile you up. “yeah, it’s not our fault you have the musical taste of a high school pep rally.” his comment earns a snort from geto, who chuckles under his breath.

you scoff, rolling your eyes so dramatically that it’s a miracle they don’t roll right out of your head. their mocking expressions, geto’s cigarette-smoke smile, and choso’s silent snickers grate on you, pushing every button they seem to know so well.

“oh, please,” you say, voice thick with sarcasm as you fling your pen, first at geto and then at choso. it clatters harmlessly beside them, but the message is clear. “i have a deep connection with music too, you know.” your eyes lock onto geto’s, a challenge blazing in your gaze. “just because i don’t act like i’ve lived through a hundred lifetimes of despair doesn’t mean i can’t understand depth.”

geto’s smirk doesn’t falter; if anything, it grows. he leans back, tilting his head slightly, the cigarette dangling between his fingers as he studies you with feigned curiosity. “is that so?” he drawls, looking entirely unconvinced.

you ignore him, turning to choso, who’s still grinning like he’s just heard the best joke of his life. “and by the way, my music taste is nothing like a high school pep rally. just because i don’t sit around and strum sad songs doesn’t mean i don’t know good music when i hear it.”

choso chuckles, shrugging one shoulder as he casually strums another lazy chord on his guitar. “right. suuuure, princess,” he says, the endearment clearly meant to rile you up more.

you take a breath, hands curling into fists at your sides. “if anyone here is all talk, it’s the two of you. maybe if you actually spent half as much time doing the work instead of pretending to be these misunderstood, tragic geniuses, we’d actually finish this project.”

geto and choso share another amused look, enjoying how easily they can get under your skin. geto takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke as he smirks at your fiery response. “cute speech,” he drawls, his voice dripping with condescension. “but forgive me if i don’t quite believe it. you think you understand depth just because you listen to some shallow pop songs and think they’re deep?”

choso chuckles again, clearly enjoying the spectacle, and continues to idly play his guitar with his signature smirk.

geto lets out a low chuckle, leaning forward with an exaggerated sigh. he leans back on one elbow, cigarette balanced between his fingers. “you’ve got us all figured out, don’t you? we’re just two dark, brooding souls living tragically deep, tortured lives. and you’re just… what? some bright ray of sunshine, here to bring us out of our musical abyss?”

choso chuckles again, still plucking at his guitar as he shares another amused glance with geto. “yeah, how lucky we are. our very own little guardian angel, here to save us from our emo ways,” he responds, clearly finding the situation amusing.

geto nods, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing a perfect smoke ring into the air. he studies you intently, his gaze almost calculating as he watches for your reaction. “your enthusiasm is endearing,” he smirks, “but let’s not pretend that you’re anything more than a naive, hopelessly optimistic girl in a class full of brooding, misunderstood artists.”

you glare at geto, feeling the heat of frustration bubbling beneath your skin as his smirk widens with every word he says. the sight of him leaning back, exhaling another plume of smoke as if he owns the world and everyone in it, makes your blood boil. that condescending drawl, that cocky look—god, you hate emo boys.

without thinking, you reach down, grab his bag, and hurl it straight at him. it smacks him square in the chest, and he blinks in surprise, momentarily caught off guard as he catches it before it hits the ground.

“you’re an asshole, suguru,” you snap, voice sharp as you stand up, glaring at both of them. “i hate you and your stupid, tortured artist act. enjoy your ‘depth’ without me.” you turn to leave, gripping your things, determined to escape this room filled with cigarette smoke and smug grins.

geto rolls his eyes, his smirk never faltering as he watches you storm toward the door, clearly amused by your outburst. with a sigh, he stands up, taking his time before following you to the door. “don’t be sooo thin-skinned, sunshine,” he drawls, reaching out to catch your hand, which is already on the doorknob.

you yank your hand back, but he’s faster, his grip firm as he gently pulls your hand away from the door. and before you even realize what’s happening, he twists the lock, the soft click filling the air.

you narrow your eyes at him, frustration flaring again as he stands behind you, his presence way too close. he still has that damn smirk, looking down at you with a mix of challenge and amusement. his hands move to rest on your upper arms, a touch that’s surprisingly gentle but keeps you in place. you tense under his grip, but he’s already nudging you backward, guiding you away from the door, back toward the center of the room where choso is still sitting, half-watching the scene unfold as he idly strums his guitar.

“you know,” geto murmurs, that hint of laughter still in his tone, “maybe you’re taking all of this a bit too personally. it’s not like we don’t appreciate your presence or anything.” he’s leaning in, close enough that his words are more of a soft murmur against your ear.

you huff, rolling your eyes. “oh, sure. you just like having me here to entertain you with my ‘shallow’ music taste, right?”

geto chuckles, his breath ghosting over your ear in a way that sends a slight shiver down your spine. but you push the feeling away, refusing to let his subtle touch affect you. “hmm, something like that,” he replies, his voice a low murmur. “and your little temper tantrums are so cute.”

you slowly turning your head over your shoulder to give him a glare that could melt steel. the audacity. you arch an eyebrow, letting out a huff. “you’re a dog, you know that, right?”

but geto’s smirk only deepens, clearly unfazed. he leans in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “woof woof,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with a mock sultriness that sends a shiver down your spine despite yourself. he’s so close that you can almost feel his smile in that smug tone, knowing full well the effect he’s having on you.

you clench your jaw, trying to ignore the strange flutter that rises in your chest. why did he have to turn everything into a game, a challenge that he somehow always managed to win? your fingers tighten around your things, grounding yourself as you try to shake off the flush threatening to rise to your cheeks.

“ugh, seriously?” you mutter, yanking yourself out of his grasp as you step away, putting some much-needed space between you. “can you be any more insufferable?”

geto just chuckles, taking pleasure in your reaction. he’s clearly enjoying the game of cat and mouse, loving every moment of your frustration. and as you try to step away, his hand snatches the back of your shirt, yanking you back toward him, preventing your escape. he pulls you closer with a fluid motion, bringing you within inches of his smug face.

he leans in, his voice is low and laced with that same hint of mockery. “i can actually be significantly worse. i’m just holding back, princess. you should be grateful.”

choso snickers from his spot on the stage, watching the spectacle with a knowing smirk. he’s seen this song and dance between you and geto countless times, and yet he never gets tired of it. after all, the sight of you and geto at each other’s throats is always a thrilling one.

geto takes a minu step closer, closing the distance between you two. his grip tightens on the back of your shirt, keeping you in place. “so, what are you going to do now, sunshine? keep huffing and puffing, or are you going to give in?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “maybe i should start carrying a spray bottle for you two,” you snap back, though the playful edge in your voice betrays your amusement.

choso laughs outright, a sharp bark of laughter, while geto chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. “oh, a spray bottle? how original, princess,” geto teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “go ahead. i could use a good misting.” he takes another step closer, the heat of his body nearly close enough to touch yours. his grip on your shirt is still firm, but you can feel his fingers tracing small circles on the fabric, a subtle display of possessiveness.

choso chuckles as he strums out another chord on his guitar. “yeah, we’re not kittens you can just spray with water,” he remarks. “but we might respond to treats.” you roll your eyes, scoffing at choso’s words. “as if i’d give you two anything resembling a treat. you don’t do anything that deserves one,” you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm.

geto smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction, and inches even closer, closing the already narrow space between you two. you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your hands, which you’ve instinctively placed on his chest to push him back, but he doesn’t seem inclined to give you the space you need. instead, he just leans in further, his gaze unwavering and challenging as his fingers continue to lightly trace along the hem of your shirt, a subtle, infuriating reminder that he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

choso’s smirk deepens as he lifts his hand, extending his middle and ring fingers in a subtle, teasing wiggle that makes your cheeks burn instantly. “oh, i can do plenty that deserves a treat,” he murmurs, his voice carrying just the right mix of mischief and challenge, the playful gleam in his eyes only adding to his boldness.

your face flushes as you glare at him, momentarily stunned by his audacity. “pervert,” you snap, rolling your eyes in an attempt to cover up the blush creeping up your face. geto chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction, and leans even closer, his breath warm against your skin as he adds, “oh, i think we hit a nerve there, didn’t we, sunshine?”

you turn your glare back at him, trying to shake off the heat that’s already spreading across your face. “maybe if you two idiots put half as much effort into this project as you do into annoying me, we’d actually be done by now.”

geto snickers, unfazed by your insults. “oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that?” he retorts, his voice dripping with mockery. “and honestly, annoying you might be more enjoyable than your whole music taste.”

choso chuckles from his spot on the stage, clearly enjoying the back and forth as he idly strums out a lazy chord on his guitar. “come on, admit it. you love the attention,” he teases with a knowing smirk. “how else would we keep you from fleeing the room?”

geto’s eyes glint with a devilish spark as he draws out the word, “but…” letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you tense up in anticipation. before you can even fully register his intentions, he wraps an arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off your feet, his strength catching you off guard. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist to steady yourself, a surprised gasp escaping your lips.

“if you’re so eager for us to work on this project,” he murmurs, that familiar teasing tone laced with something deeper, “then i suppose we should oblige you.”

choso watches with a smirk, setting his guitar aside and leaning back on his hands, clearly entertained. he shifts slightly as geto carries you over to him, his gaze lazily tracing the scene as though it’s all some amusing game.

before you know it, geto lays you down, your head coming to rest on choso’s thigh, his fingers instantly playing with a strand of your hair while he looks down at you with a knowing grin. geto settles between your legs, his eyes alight with mischief as he leans closer, his weight pressing against you just enough to pin you there.

your eyes widen, heart pounding as you squirm, trying to push him away and hit his shoulder. “suguru, get off!” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended, but he only chuckles, entirely unfazed.

geto’s smirk only widens, clearly enjoying your flustered attempt to escape. as you try to push him away, he effortlessly catches your wrists, pinning them above your head, his body still pressed against yours, effectively trapping you.

he leans in, his breath hot against you as he speaks, his voice a low, amused murmur. “easy, princess. we’re just working on the project, remember?” choso chuckles from above, his fingers still idly toying with your hair as he looks down at you, clearly enjoying this moment. “yeah, relax. we’re actually going to be productive for once,” he teases, a smirk on his lips.

geto’s grip tightens on your wrists as he shifts his weight, settling himself more comfortably into the space between your legs. he’s so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of cigarettes and something more distinctly him filling your senses. he leans in closer, his lips hovering just above your ear, his voice a low murmur. “or are you finally starting to enjoy this?”

your cheeks flush a deep red, the warmth spreading down your neck as you try to keep your composure. you look away, biting your lip as you feel your heart pounding in your chest, the sound of it almost deafening in your ears. taking a steadying breath, you clear your throat, desperately trying to suppress any hint of nervousness.

“this… this is not the project,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, but you don’t pull away. instead, you muster up the courage to meet geto’s gaze, your eyes locking onto his with a mix of defiance and something else—something you’re not quite ready to name.

geto’s smirk deepens at your whispered protest. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin, igniting a shiver down your spine. “sure it is,” he counters, his voice a low rumble, his eyes locked onto yours. “we’re getting acquainted with each other’s… skills, let’s say. it’s an essential part of the creative process.” choso snickers from above, his fingers still moving lazily through your hair. “yeah, consider it a team-building exercise,” he adds, his voice dripping with amusement.

your gaze locks onto geto’s, the challenge in your eyes unmistakable. you tilt your head slightly, defiant and intrigued all at once, a smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah?” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “and just what kind of skills are we talking about?”

geto’s smirk widens, clearly delighted by your question. he leans even closer, his lips ghosting over yours, almost but not quite touching. “well,” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing murmur that sends a shiver down your spine, “the kind of skills that… require hands-on experience.”

choso chuckles softly above you, his hand in your hair, fingers curling lightly around a strand. “you’re in good hands, don’t worry,” he teases, his tone both playful and reassuring. “we’re professionals, after all.” you roll your eyes at the both of them, your heart racing despite your best efforts to stay composed. “oh? you do?” you mutter, though the way your voice wavers slightly betrays your flustered state.

geto’s smirk turns almost devilish as he notices the slight waver in your voice, feeling your resistance beginning to crumble. he shifts his body, pressing himself even closer against you, his hands still holding your wrists captive above your head.

“oh, we do,” he affirms, a note of confidence edging into his voice. “we’ve got plenty of… relevant experience.” choso chuckles softly, his fingers continuing to toy idly with your hair. “and we’re more than happy to give you a… hands-on demonstration,” he adds, his tone teasing.

a rush of heat floods your cheeks, but you don’t dare look away, meeting geto’s gaze head-on, even with your heart pounding so fiercely that he can feel the pulse beneath his fingers. you swallow, your defiance giving way to something more vulnerable, more curious.

“like what?” you whisper, barely audible, but he catches every word. the smirk on his face shifts, deepening into something darker, a spark of satisfaction flaring in his eyes at your words, the smirk on his face turns almost predatory.

choso’s hand continues to toy idly with your hair, watching the scene unfold. a soft chuckle escapes his lips as he witnesses the undeniable tension between the two of you, clearly enjoying the show.

geto leans in even closer, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes locking onto yours as you speak. “like this.” he moves suddenly, pressing his lips against yours in a firm, possessive kiss, his grip on your wrists tightening just enough to make you gasp against his mouth.

the kiss is demanding, almost possessive, like he’s staking his claim on you at that very moment. his tongue brushes lightly over your bottom lip, a silent request for entry, but doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his tongue pushes into your mouth, claiming it.

as geto kisses you, his lips move against yours with a mixture of rough possessiveness and subtle tenderness, the contrast making your head spin. he doesn’t give you any room to pull away, his body still pinning you firmly in place, his hands still holding your wrists captive above your head. it’s dominant, overwhelming, and you find yourself melting into the kiss without even realizing it.

when he eventually breaks away for air, his eyes scan your face, taking note of your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. he smirks, noticing the way you’ve already lost some of your resistance.

you stare up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, struggling to steady your racing heart as you feel the lingering warmth of his lips on yours. your cheeks are flushed, and the remnants of the kiss—soft, glistening traces of shared heat—cling to your lips, a tangible reminder of the closeness that had just taken place.

geto’s smirk only widens as he takes in your expression, clearly pleased with the effect he’s had on you. he shifts, letting one of his hands trail down, grazing your cheek in a teasing, feather-light touch. “what’s the matter?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “cat got your tongue?”

you open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat, leaving you speechless. all you can do is glare at him, though the intensity is softened by the dazed look in your eyes.

geto’s smirk only deepens at your lack of response, clearly enjoying the power he has over you in that moment. he leans in closer, his hand tracing a path down your neck, his touch light and tantalizing. “tsk, tsk,” he murmurs between chuckles. “no cutting remarks? no snarky comeback?”

he leans down, his lips hovering just above your ear as he murmurs, “or are you just too distracted by my… skills?”

“n-no,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying the mess of emotions tumbling around inside you. your gaze flickers from geto’s amused smirk to choso’s lazy, knowing grin, and you quickly lick your lower lip, still tasting the faint remnants of geto’s kiss.

choso leans over you, a sly grin on his lips, clearly amused by how flustered you’ve become. “seems like we’ve finally managed to render her speechless,” he teases, his voice laced with amusement. you swallow, trying to regain even a fraction of your composure, but the feeling of geto’s lips lingering on yours keeps replaying in your mind, muddling every sharp retort you want to throw at him.

“i don’t—” you start, desperately trying to sound defiant, but the slight quiver in your voice gives you away. “i don’t...” the words come out weaker than you intended, and even you can feel the doubt behind them.

you hate emo boys, right?

choso chuckles, clearly amused at your feeble attempt to hold onto your usual defiant attitude. he continues to toy with your hair, his fingers gently twirling strands around them as he leans back against the stage.

geto, on the other hand, takes your attempt as a challenge, his smirk widening into a sly grin. he tightens his grip on your wrists, pinning you even more firmly against his body. “oh, really?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mockery. “you don’t what, princess?”

you frown, finally managing to push geto back just enough to sit up, shaking your wrists free from his hold. “you’re so damn annoying,” you mutter, trying to sound resolute, though your heart is still racing, and your cheeks are still warm.

but before you can even think of standing, choso’s hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you backward with a gentle yet firm pull. you lose your balance, falling back into his lap, your back pressing against his chest as his arms settle around you, keeping you securely in place.

“now, now,” he whispers, his voice low and smooth, right next to your ear, “we haven’t finished with the hands-on learning session.” his fingers trace slow, lazy circles on your arm, and you can feel the rumble of his chuckle against your back.

geto watches with a pleased smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leans back, clearly entertained by the shift in control. “see, princess? you keep acting all tough, but you’re right where we want you,” he teases, folding his arms and tilting his head as he watches you, enjoying every flustered reaction.

your face burns, but despite the urge to throw out a sharp comeback, your mind goes blank with the feeling of choso’s closeness, his steady presence both soothing and entirely overwhelming.

your breath catches as choso’s arm slides around your waist, pulling you even closer against his chest. his touch is gentle yet firm, grounding you in place, and there’s no escaping the warmth of his body pressed against yours. when his chin settles on your shoulder, you can feel the soft scrape of his stubble against your skin, a contrast to the smoothness of his voice as he whispers.

“you keep resisting,” he murmurs, his voice teasing and warm against your ear, “but maybe that’s because we haven’t given you a proper, hands-on demonstration yet.”

his other hand glides over yours, fingers lacing together as he leans in, his breath tickling the sensitive skin along your jawline before running his fingers over your clothed breast, feeling the lace material over your shirt. geto, watching your reaction with that same devilish smirk, steps in closer, his presence filling any space left, his gaze sharp and intense.

with you pinned between the two of them, there’s no escaping their touch or their relentless teasing. choso’s hand, so maddeningly close to bare skin, moves confidently over your shirt, while geto leans in even closer, his smirk growing wider as he takes in the flushed look on your face.

he reaches up, lazily trailing his fingers down your cheek, his touch sending tingles down your spine. “or maybe,” he murmurs, “you’re just not ready to admit how much you’re enjoying this.”

“shut up,“ you mumble, squirming uncomfortably under their combined gazes. your cheeks burn hotter than ever, and it’s hard to focus on anything other than the sensation of choso’s fingers dancing dangerously close and geto’s intoxicating proximity.

you try to pull away, to put some distance between yourself and the two men who seem intent on breaking down your walls, but choso only tighten his hold, making escape nearly impossible. “let me go,” you demand, your voice shaky, but whether from anger or arousal, you’re not sure.

“what fun would that be?” geto retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. his smirk doesn’t falter, and if anything, it grows more pronounced as he watches you struggle in vain against choso’s grip.

choso, meanwhile, seems content to let geto handle most of the verbal sparring, focusing instead on the task at hand. his fingers continue their tortuous path over the fabric of your shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts through the thin material. his touch is light, teasing, but the effect is undeniable.

the room may be empty, but it feels like the walls are closing in, the heat between the three of you nearly palpable. you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your composure as choso’s fingers brush tantalizingly close to your nipples. you bite your lip, a soft whimper escaping your throat as geto’s smirk deepens.

“we should do our project instead... instead of this,” you stammer, trying to muster some semblance of defiance, even though your body betrays you with each passing second. your heart pounds in your chest, your breaths coming quicker as the tension in the room rises.

geto scoffs, rolling his eyes at your suggestion. “who said anything about stopping?” he drawls, shifting slightly in his seat to give himself a better view of your predicament. his dark eyes sparkle with mischief, and his grin widens even further, revealing his white teeth.

choso chuckles softly, leaning in until his lips brush against your ear. “this is a part of our project, no?” he purrs, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. his fingers finally dip beneath your shirt, finding your hardened nipple through your bra and pinching it gently, eliciting a gasp from you.

geto watches, his smirking eyes never leaving yours as choso continues his torment, his own hands moving freely now that you’re effectively trapped between them. with nowhere else to turn, you grit your teeth and glare at geto, even as choso’s fingers continue their wicked exploration. “i swear,” you seethe, “if you don’t stop—”

“and what would you do?” geto interrupts, raising an eyebrow in challenge. he leans in closer, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin as he gets a whiff of your scent. “because i’m not seeing much resistance here.”

before you can come up with a retort, choso’s hand snakes its way around your waist, his thumb brushing against your belly button. he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “relax, princess,” he coos, his voice dropping to a low purr. “it’s just sex.”

you wince as choso’s thumb brushes against your exposed flesh, a shudder running through your body at his words. you clench your fists, biting your lip to keep from moaning aloud. “t-that’s not true!” you protest weakly, though your body tells a different story. your cheeks flush darker, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as the heat between the three of you intensifies. god, you hate emo boys so much!

geto barks out a laugh at your weak protests, shaking his head in amusement. “oh please, spare us the indignation act. we all know you’re loving every second of this.” choso hums in agreement, his fingers trailing lower, dipping teasingly below the waistband of your skirt. “your body is far more honest than your mouth,” he murmurs, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

geto shifts closer, one hand coming up to cup your jaw, forcing you to meet his heated gaze. “why fight it? we both know where this is heading. might as well enjoy the ride, hmm?” his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, a clear invitation. behind you, choso presses closer, the evidence of his arousal evident against your backside as his hands roam your curves possessively.

geto merely laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “denial isn’t a very attractive trait, love,” he teases, reaching out to run a finger along your arm. the sensation sends sparks shooting up your skin, and you can’t help but flinch.

choso grins devilishly, taking advantage of your reaction. he slips his hand lower, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping beneath the hem of your skirt. his touch is feather-light, teasing, yet filled with promise. his hand slides lower to tease the edge of your panties. his fingers ghost along the delicate fabric, making you jump in surprise. “so tense,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with false sympathy. “let us help you relax. this is a part of the project, we promise. gonna show you how to used your fingers for guitar.”

geto chuckles darkly, his eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “that’s right, princess. we’re just giving you a private lesson,” he purrs, his voice low and seductive. “all part of the creative process.” he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “but i think we can teach you something far more... practical.”

choso hums in agreement, his fingers still teasing along the edge of your panties. “indeed. music theory is important, but sometimes...” his hand suddenly cups your mound, applying firm pressure. “...hands-on experience is necessary for real growth.”

geto smirks, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “what do you say, love? ready to expand your horizons and learn a new instrument?” his other hand trails down your side, fingertips grazing the side of your breast.

whimpers and squirms, you inhale sharply as choso’s hand boldly cups your most intimate area, his touch sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through your body. your hips jerking involuntarily into his touch. a needy whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it, your resolve crumbling under their relentless assault. geto’s fingers in your hair and teasing caress along your breast make it hard to think straight.

“i... i don’t...” you stammer, but your body betrays your true desires. your thighs tremble, pressing together as if seeking friction, and your nipples strain against the confines of your bra, begging for attention. “that— that’s not,” you protest weakly, even as your body betrays you, arching slightly into their touches. your face burns with humiliation and shameful arousal. “expand your horizon, my ass.”

geto’s fingers in your hair send tingles down your spine, and when he grazes the side of your breast, you can’t suppress the shudder that runs through you. “fuck,” you breathe, hating how weak you sound.

despite your feeble objections, you make no real effort to push them away or escape their groping hands. the heat building between your thighs grows harder to ignore with each passing second. geto grins wickedly, clearly reveling in your flustered state and half-hearted resistance.

choso chuckles darkly, his fingers continuing their maddening exploration. he hooks a finger in the side of your panties, tugging them down just slightly. “see? nothing to worry about. just sit back and enjoy the music,” he murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your neck.

geto leans in, his lips barely brushing against your ear. “unless you’d prefer to take the lead? show us what those talented fingers of yours can really do?” he suggests, his tone laced with challenge and desire.

choso grins wickedly, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties to stroke your slick folds. “my my, someone’s already so wet,” he purrs, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “and here i thought you were resisting.” geto chuckles darkly, his hand tightening slightly in your hair. “resistance is futile, princess. your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is playing catch-up.”

he leans in, his tongue darting out to trace the shell of your ear before he nibbles on the lobe. “what was that about expanding your horizons again, princess?” he taunts, his other hand boldly cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh. “seems to me like you’re already getting a crash course in advanced techniques.”

he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing any further protests. his tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as choso’s fingers begin to circle your clit with maddeningly light touches.

you moan into the kiss, your lips parting willingly as geto plunders your mouth. your tongue tangles with his, the taste of him both foreign and intoxicating. you find yourself kissing him back with growing fervor, your reservations melting away under the onslaught of sensation.

choso’s fingers work magic on your sensitive bud, circling and teasing until your hips are bucking shamelessly against his hand, chasing more of that delicious friction. wetness coats his digits as he easily glides through your slick folds, stroking along your entrance.

“ahh... fuck...” you gasp as geto breaks the kiss, leaving you panting and dizzy with need. your head falls back against choso’s shoulder, exposing the column of your throat.

geto smirks against your lips, clearly relishing your wanton response. “that’s it, princess. let go,” he encourages huskily, his hand sliding down to join choso’s between your thighs. together, they work in tandem, geto’s fingers joining choso’s to tease and explore your most intimate places.

“feel that?” choso murmurs, his fingers curling inside you, stroking along your inner walls. “this is just like playing a string instrument. you have to be precise, know exactly where to touch...” he demonstrates by finding that special spot deep inside, rubbing firmly. at the same time, geto’s thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles.

“mmm, and you’ve got to vary your rhythm,” geto adds, his voice a sinful purr.

behind you, choso takes advantage of your exposed throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. his fingers never cease their ministrations, now two digits sinking knuckle-deep inside your tight heat. he curls them just so, rubbing against that same special spot within you. “how about that, baby?” he murmurs, his voice a sinful rasp against your ear. “this is called the g-spot. it’s the key to creating the most beautiful melodies.”

a loud, shameless moan tears from your throat as choso hits that perfect spot inside you, his fingers curling just right. your back arches, pressing your breasts more fully into geto’s palm as he kneads the soft mounds.

“oh god— thaaat’s— shit!” you keen, your hips rolling shamelessly against their skilled hands. the dual stimulation of choso’s fingers pumping in and out of your dripping cunt and geto’s thumb circling your clit has you seeing stars. your inner muscles flutter and clench around the invading digits, trying to draw them deeper.

geto chuckles darkly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest pressed against your side. “listen to those pretty sounds you’re making,” he purrs, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “like a symphony of pleasure.”

“indeed,” choso agrees, his own voice thick with lust. “she’s quite the instrument.” he increases the pace of his thrusts, fingers pistoning in and out of your soaked pussy with increasing urgency. “let’s see how high she can sing.”

geto redoubles his efforts as well, his thumb working overtime on your throbbing clit while he tweaks and teases your nipples. “come on, baby girl,” he coaxes, his breath hot against your ear. “give us that sweet release. let the music move you.”

the dual assault proves too much, your climax cresting like a tidal wave. a strangled cry rips from your throat as your body seizes up, back bowing as ecstasy crashes over you. choso and geto continue to work you through it, coaxing out every last tremor and spasm.

your entire world narrows to the intense sensations coursing through your body as you come undone. waves of pleasure radiate outward from your core, leaving you quivering and gasping for air. “ahh! oh fuuuck...” you wail, your voice raw and desperate as your orgasm rips through you. your inner walls clench rhythmically around choso’s plunging fingers, milking them for all they’re worth.

choso grins wickedly, his fingers picking up speed, plunging in and out of your sopping wet cunt. “that’s it, baby. let me hear that sweet music,” he growls, his thumb coming up to rub tight circles on your clit.

through the haze of bliss, you dimly register geto’s triumphant grin against your cheek, his praise and encouragement spurring you onward. even as the aftershocks slowly ebb, choso and geto keep you suspended on that razor’s edge, prolonging your pleasure until you’re a boneless, spent mess in their arms. when the final tremors subside, you collapse against choso, panting heavily.

choso holds you close, his strong arms cradling your trembling form as you struggle to catch your breath. “exquisite,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. “a true masterpiece.”

geto, in front of you, watching you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “not bad for a beginner lesson,” he remarks, his gaze roving over your flushed, disheveled state. he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “but we’re far from finished. there are still so many notes left to play, so many melodies yet to compose.” his hand trails down your spine, tracing the curve of your lower back before settling on your hip.

choso chuckles, his fingers still buried inside you, gently stirring your sensitive insides. “let’s see how well our little protégée handles some more...advanced techniques.” he leans in, biting and sucking at your neck, determined to leave marks of possession. his free hand slides down to grip your hip, holding you steady.

without warning, geto captures your lips in a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your desperate moans. behind you, choso scissors his fingers, stretching you wider, preparing you for something bigger. “brace yourself, princess,” geto growls against your mouth, his tongue delving deep to claim yours in a ruthless kiss. his other hand snakes around to cup your breast once again, squeezing the soft flesh roughly as he bites down on your bottom lip.

choso continues to work his fingers in and out of your stretched opening, scissoring and curling to hit all the right spots. “ready for the next piece?” he asks, his voice a low, seductive purr. “we’re going to add some strings to really make her sing.”

your mind reels from the overwhelming sensations, struggling to process the torrent of pleasure coursing through your veins. the feeling of being stretched and filled by choso’s fingers is almost unbearable, your body acutely aware of every subtle shift and movement.

geto pulls back from the kiss, his chest heaving with desire. “that’s right, let’s give her a full orchestra,” he agrees, his eyes blazing with hunger. “i’m thinking a nice, thick violin for her ass...”

when geto claims your mouth in a brutal kiss, you melt into it, surrendering to the dominant passion he exudes. his hand on your breast sends jolts of electricity straight to your core, making you ache for more.

you whimper against his lips, lost in the haze of lust. the thought of geto taking you from behind, filling you with his thick cock, has you squirming in anticipation. as if reading your mind, choso withdraws his fingers with a lewd pop, leaving you empty and wanting. he smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

they help you stand, with a shared look of carnal intent, both men begin shedding their clothing, revealing lean, muscular bodies honed from years of intense training. their cocks spring free, hard and proud, already leaking precum in anticipation.

geto lean closer, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly peels away his shirt, exposing his chiseled chest and abs. “time to put that ass of yours to good use, princess,” he purrs, his cock bobbing with each step.

choso follows suit, stripping off his garments with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving your body. “we’re going to fill you up so completely, you won’t know where one of us ends and the other begins,” he promises, his voice dripping with sensual promise. together, they guide you to the couch across the music room before peeling the clothes and skirt off your body.

on the couch, geto grips your hips firmly, guiding you onto his lap so you straddle him facing forward. your bare cunt hovers inches above his rigid cock, the head nudging your slick entrance. choso steps closer, his erection jutting out proudly from his groin, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

“let’s hear that beautiful song again,” choso purrs, reaching down to run his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. he lifts your leg, placing your foot on the armrest beside geto, further exposing your sex to him.

geto’s eyes darken with primal needs as he notches the head of his dick at your entrance. “time to ride this melody, my sweet,” he rasps, his hands gripping your thighs as he starts to push upward, sinking into your heat inch by delicious inch.

a shuddering gasp escapes your lips as geto’s thick cock slowly impales you, stretching your inner walls to accommodate his impressive size. the sensation of being filled so deeply is intoxicating, your body instinctively clenching around him.

“oh shiiit! —fuck!” you manage to stammer, your head falling back on his shoulder in ecstasy as geto bottoms out inside you. the pressure is exquisite, bordering on pain, but you crave more.

choso watches intently, his own cock twitching with anticipation. “look at her take it so beautifully,” he comments, his voice laced with awe and desire. “such a perfect fit.” geto begins to thrust and you start to rock your hips, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.

choso’s cockhead brushes against your lips insistently, smearing them with his musky essence. “open wide, princess,” he coaxes, his voice husky with need. “let’s synchronize our movements and create a truly symphonic experience.” without waiting for any response, he takes advantage of your open mouth, sliding his thick length past your lips. “that’s it, wrap those pretty lips around my cock,” he encourages, one hand tangling in your hair to guide your movements. “let’s see how well you multitask.”

behind you, geto’s thrusts pick up pace, his hips snapping against your ass as he hilts himself fully inside you with each powerful stroke. the dual stimulation of his thick shaft dragging along your inner walls and choso’s hardness prodding your mouth has you dizzy with lust.

“fuuuck, she feels incredible,” geto groans, one hand sliding up your torso to palm your breast roughly. he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, sending sparks of pleasure-pain zinging through your nerves.

overwhelmed by the dual assault on your senses, you moan wantonly around choso’s cock, the vibrations adding an extra layer of sensation. your tongue swirls around his thick shaft as you bob your head, taking him deeper into your throat with each pass.

geto’s relentless thrusts are hitting that special spot inside you dead-on, stoking the fire building in your core. the combination of his cock pounding your g-spot and choso’s member filling your mouth has you teetering on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm.

your nails dig into choso’s thighs as you grind back against him, meeting geto’s thrusts with equal fervor. the obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the room, mingling with your muffled moans and the creaking of the couch beneath you.

choso grunts in pleasure as your throat constricts around him, your enthusiasm evident in the way you take him so eagerly. “that’s it, just like that,” he praises breathlessly, his grip on your hair tightening as he starts to shallowly fuck your face. “such an obedient little instrument, playing our tune perfectly.”

behind you, geto’s thrusts become erratic, his control slipping as he chases his release. one hand moves from your breast to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

geto leans in close, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he pants hotly against your skin. “listen to those slutty sounds you’re making,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly hard thrust that has your vision whiting out momentarily. “you are doing a good, sunshine, pretty sure we will get an A+ for this project.”

the dual stimulation proves too much to bear. with a keening cry muffled by choso’s cock, “gonna cum. . . hng! cum—”, your body trembles and quakes as the coil of tension in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter, poised to snap at any moment. geto’s skilled fingers on your clit combined with his relentless thrusts prove too much to bear.

with a strangled cry, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. your inner muscles clamp down on geto’s pistoning shaft, rippling along his length as you come undone. the force of your climax has you seeing stars for the second time, your entire being consumed by white-hot ecstasy.

choso groans deeply, the vibrations rumbling through his chest as he feels your throat flutter around him. “fuck yes, milk my cock just like that,” he demands, his hips stuttering as he nears his own peak.

as your body convulses in the throes of your intense orgasm, geto hilts himself deep inside you as your walls spasm around him, grinding against your cervix as he rides out your intense orgasm. “shiiit—” he snarls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release.

choso buries himself to the hilt in your throat, his cock pulsing as he reaches his breaking point. with a guttural moan, he starts to unload, thick ropes of cum shooting directly down your gullet. “swallow every drop, princess,” he commands breathlessly, his hips rocking shallowly as he empties himself in your mouth.

geto continues to grind against you, drawing out your climax as long as possible. once choso pulls out, they switch position with now you sit on choso’s lap while geto kneeling on the couch behind you, ass slight in the air and back arched towards choso. “now, now, your ass need an instrument too, no?” he remarks, the tip of his cock kissing the puckered lips of your ass.

choso smirks at geto’s suggestion, his eyes gleaming with mischief and lust. “mm, i like the way you think,” he purrs, reaching around to spread your ass cheeks wider, exposing your tight rosebud to geto’s hungry gaze. “let’s give our little muse here a full symphony, shall we?”

he leans in, trailing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder as his hands roam your curves possessively. “just relax, baby,” choso murmurs against your skin, nipping lightly. “we’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

geto positions himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips possessively. the blunt head of his cock pressing insistently against your virgin hole, coated in your mixed fluids. he spits crudely into his palm, using it to slick up his shaft before rubbing the spit-slicked tip around your rim teasingly. “relax, sunshine,“ he murmurs, his thumb massaging small circles on the soft skin of your hips. “let me in nice and easy.”

with a gentle but persistent pressure, geto starts to sink into your tight heat, his girth stretching you deliciously. choso bucks up slightly, his still-harden cock sliding between your cunt as if seeking friction.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” geto groans low in his throat as he slowly sinks deeper into your tight heat, savoring the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls enveloping him inch by delicious inch. “holy shit, you’re like a vice around my cock,” he grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he hilts himself fully inside you with a final, powerful thrust.

choso watches the erotic sight with hooded eyes, his own arousal growing as he feels geto’s cock slide against his through the thin barrier of your pussy wall. he rocks up against you, creating delicious friction. “goddamn, i can feel every twitch of your greedy little holes," he purrs, his voice rough with desire.

a sharp gasp escapes your lips as you feel geto’s thick length slowly sink into your virgin hole, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. the initial burn quickly gives way to intense, toe-curling pleasure as your body adjusts to the new intrusion.

“oh god, oh fuck,” you moan brokenly, your head falling back against choso’s shoulder as he peppers your neck with hot kisses and bites. your hands scrabble for purchase on his muscular arms, nails digging into the firm flesh.

the dual sensation of choso’s hard cock rubbing against your sensitive walls and geto’s thick shaft buried deep in your ass is almost too much to handle. every movement sends shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your oversensitized body.

geto sets a steady rhythm, his hips snapping against yours as he fucks into your tight heat with increasing intensity. the lewd squelch of lube and your natural lubrication fills the room, mixing with your wanton moans and the creak of the couch beneath you.

choso takes advantage of your distracted state, his hands moving to roughly palm your breasts, tweaking and rolling your nipples between his fingers. he captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he grinds up against you harder.

“that’s it, take it just like that,” geto growls, one hand took a fistful of your hair as he pounds into you from behind while the other pushing the hard wall, looking for a balance. the added stimulation has your walls clamping down on both their cocks like a silken fist.

lost in a haze of overwhelming pleasure, your body moves on pure instinct, rocking back to meet geto’s powerful thrusts while grinding down onto choso’s hardness. incoherent moans and pleas spill from your lips, swallowed by choso’s demanding kisses, arms wrapped around his neck.

the intense dual stimulation has your mind short-circuiting, all thoughts dissolving into a sea of blissful sensation. your inner walls ripple and squeeze around the two hard shafts stretching you so deliciously, as if trying to pull them even deeper.

“just— fucking gooood!” you manage to gasp out between kisses, too far gone to care how desperate you sound. “want... want to feel you everywhere...“ your hands clutch at choso’s shoulders, nails raking down his sweat-slicked skin.

choso breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he gazes down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. “look at you, so beautiful when you’re fucked silly, completely lost in pleasure,” he rasps, his voice dripping with seduction. “keep taking what you need, baby girl.” he rolls his hips, grinding his cock against your clit with deliberate intent, sending jolts of electricity through your overstimulated nerves.

geto increases his pace, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room as he slams into your ass with abandon. the couch creaks ominously under the force of his thrusts, but neither of them seems to care about the potential damage.

the combination of geto’s brutal pace and choso’s calculated stimulation pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“fuck, your ass was made for my cock,” geto grunts, his grip on your hip tightening. “so damn tight and perfect.” he leans in close, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “i’m going to fill you up so good, sunshine.”

geto’s words send a shiver down your spine, your entire body tensing as the coil of pleasure within you winds tighter and tighter. choso senses your impending climax, his hands roaming your curves with renewed urgency as he kneads and squeezes, coaxing you higher.

“come on, princess,” choso coaxes, his voice a low, sultry purr. “give us what we want. let go and soak us with your sweet cream.” he nibbles at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing the sting with his tongue. geto’s thrusts become erratic, his control slipping as he chases his own release. “shit, shit, shiiit, i’m close,” he warns, his voice strained with effort.

overwhelmed by the relentless assault on your senses, you teeter precariously on the brink of orgasm, every nerve ending alight with electrifying pleasure. geto’s guttural warnings only heighten your anticipation, knowing that his impending climax will trigger your own.

“please,” you whimper, your voice barely audible over the ragged sounds of your own panting. “want to come... need to...” choso’s skilled touch and the tantalizing drag of his cock against your sensitive clit prove to be the final push, sending you hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. your inner walls clamp down like your life depends around both cocks, milking them for all they’re worth as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes through you.

geto lets out a hoarse roar as your tight ass squeezes him mercilessly, your spasming walls trigger his own release. his own climax barreling down on him like a freight train. with a few more powerful thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his cock pulsating as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed deep inside you, he floods your ass with jet after jet of hot cum. “oh, shit— fuck, naughty girl,” he bellows, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself deep inside you.

choso follows suit moments later, his own orgasm ripping through him with the force of a tidal wave. “’m coming!” he snarls, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grinds against you with desperate urgency. his cock twitches and spurts, painting your insides with his scorching seed.

the three of you collapse together in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving chests, the aftermath of your shared climax leaving you boneless and sated.

as the aftershocks of your orgasms fade, geto carefully pulls out of your ass, a small amount of cum leaking out and trailing down your thigh. he smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “well, that was a hell of a private lesson,” he says, giving your plump rear a gentle pat before rising to his feet.

choso, still nestled against you, lazily strokes your side, his touch warm and comforting. “we’ve definitely got a special grade now,” he muses, a note of possessiveness creeping into his tone. geto chuckles, moving to sit beside you both on the couch. “definitely,” he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a tender gesture that belies his earlier roughness.

after everything, reality hits you. you’ve always sworn up and down that you hate emo boys, yet here you are, caught in an intimate moment with the two of them. now, you’re on the other side of the music room, hurriedly putting your clothes back on, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. you refuse to meet their eyes, sulking as you keep your back to them, still stealing a glare over your shoulder every now and then.

geto and choso just exchange an amused look, clearly unbothered by your attempt to distance yourself. they’re still lazily getting dressed, each of them watching you with a smirk, fully aware of the effect they’ve had on you.

geto smirks deepen as he continues watches you from across the room, clearly amused by the icy glares you’re shooting his way. he leans casually sits on the couch armrest— arms crossed, the smug look on his face telling you he’s entirely unbothered by your attempt to ignore them. beside him, choso chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he pulls his shirt back on, clearly sharing in the satisfaction of riling you up.

“oh, come on, princess,” geto drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of it.”

choso grins, tilting his head as he watches you adjust your shirt, still refusing to look at them. “yeah, don’t be such a sore loser,” he teases, his tone light but with that familiar hint of mischief. “you’re the one who kept us in check, remember? it’s not our fault you had fun.”

you shoot them both a final glare, cheeks still hot as you mutter, “i hate emo boys,” as if trying to convince yourself more than them. but they can see through it, both of them chuckling at your attempt to regain control.

geto and choso exchange another amused glance, knowing all too well that your muttered remark was more for your own benefit than theirs. they’re amused by your stubbornness, your desperate attempts to cling to control, even after they’ve seen the flushed look in your eyes, the way your body responds to their touch.

choso tugs his shirt fully on, his eyes roving over you as he takes in your disheveled state. “sure, princess,” he teases, his voice dripping with irony. “we totally believe you.”

geto pushes himself off the armrest, sauntering closer to you with a slow, confident swagger. he comes to a stop in front of you, his smirk widening as he looks down at you in mock sympathy. “oh, you poor thing. you must be so flustered and confused.”

he reaches out, lightly tracing a finger along the edge of your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft but mocking. “it’s normal to have conflicting emotions.”

you slap his hand away, a scowl firmly set on your face. “fuck off,” you snap, voice dripping with annoyance. geto just chuckles, clearly unphased, his smirk only widening as he steps back with that same infuriating calm.

“such hostility,” he teases, mockingly clutching his chest as if wounded. “and here i thought we were bonding.” you roll your eyes and turn your back to him, muttering under your breath about how annoying he is. meanwhile, choso, still lounging nearby, watches with a grin, clearly amused by the banter.

geto’s smirk only grows wider at your scowl and sharp retort. he steps back, arms raised in a gesture of mock surrender, though his eyes are still filled with that same mocking glee. “oh, princess, you really are so spirited.”

he glances over to choso, who’s still watching with undisguised amusement. “you really do know how to pick ‘em,” he mutters, chuckling. choso grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “yep,” he agrees. “she’s definitely a handful. but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

you gasp in mock offense, turning to face geto fully. your backhand thumps against his chest, a playful but firm push, and your eyes narrow with feigned indignation. “pick me? what am i, a stray?” you ask, your voice teasing, lips curled into a pout as you look up at him with exaggerated shock.

geto simply rolls his eyes at your dramatic response, unfazed. he bends down, grabbing his bag from the floor with a lazy motion, effortlessly slinging it over one shoulder. his eyes gleam with amusement as he drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, his body warmth pressing against yours. “let’s go get you some ice cream,” he says, his voice smooth, dripping with playful sarcasm. his smirk only deepens as he adds, “maybe it’ll cool those anger issues of yours.”

you feel the weight of his arm around you, the proximity of his body stirring something familiar in you, but you don't let it show. choso, who’s been silently watching this little exchange with his usual mischievous grin, lets out a low chuckle. “yeah, ice cream’s on him for calling you a stray,” he teases, his voice light and playful as he steps up beside you, giving you a wink that makes your stomach flip.

as you start walking, you feel the tension of the earlier moments dissipate, replaced by the lighthearted banter between the three of you. despite your irritation, there’s a sense of warmth that settles in, and you can’t help but feel an odd mix of affection and frustration toward the two of them.

maybe, these emo boys aren’t as terrible as you thought.