#but! these two are incapable of serving | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

versupital · 4 months ago

Text

wanna see what your insides look like.ᐟ

JJKHALLOWEEN! chosoxreader

to sum it up. you got tickets to a live Scream experience, where you’ll be chased by the infamous Ghostface through a dark wood. but the idea of being alone with the character arouses you more than it scares you. lucky for you, though, Ghostface is totally on board.

CONTENT (MDNI): friends to lovers, smut, switch!choso, afab!reader, prop knife, fake blood, masochism kindaaa, overstim, 86’d the sorcery (modern au), breeding, exhibitionism

word count. 7k

soundtrack 💿: RUNRUNRUN - dutch melrose

divider @saradika

“Please come, Cho. I need you to come.”

An exasperated breath comes from the other end of the phone. You’re sure your best friend is shaking his head, trying to come up with a way to let you down gently, because he’s incapable of being mean.

“I wanna,” he says honestly. “I know that Scream is our thing… but I’ve gotta take this shift for the extra money. I promise to make it up to you, kay? How about a movie night when I get off?”

You huff. You know this is reasonable collateral, but your heart still aches because you’ll be missing out on the Scream experience with your best friend in the entire world; the only person who truly understands the place the movie series holds in your heart.

“A movie night with face masks,” you correct him.

He grins from the other line. “Deal. Have fun tonight. Tell Satoru to not be a little bitch.”

You grin back. “Level: impossible. But will do. Love you, Cho.”

He pauses for a minute before replying. “I love you too. Later.”

The phone hangs up and you are unable to shake the pressure in your chest. You really shouldn’t be this sad; you’ll be with the rest of your friends. But they aren’t Cho.

You sigh and begin to get dressed; a blood-red low cut tank top, black plaited skirt, ‘nets, and thick running boots. Red lipstick tied everything together, as well as your hair in two ponytails with ribbons.

Hours pass and soon, night falls. Your friends arrive to collect you, and you all make it to the sight of the attraction in no time, both fear and excitement bubbling within you.

You ride down a long, long driveway, nothing but trees surrounding the acre of attractions, stalls and decorations. At the end, there is a large arch with an inflatable ghostface, connected to a giant curtain that serves as an entrance to the woods where the experience takes place.

According to reviews, there are multiple ghostface actors, increasing difficulty for everyone else - but it increases the thrill for you. If you make it to the exit without getting caught, you get your money back and a Ghostface collectible. So as far as you’re concerned, you have no choice but to make it though.

“Quick, shoot it back!"

You gasp as your friend is shoving a tiny liquor bottle into your palm, before reaching into her purse to pass one out to every member of your group. You’re in line now, almost halfway to the start.

Your friend’s insignificant other, Toji, grins wickedly as he takes back three or four of them. You're still nervously holding onto just the one, feeling your mouth water as you imagine the nasty liquor sliding down your throat.

"Ah, look at 'er," Toji clowns, gripping your friend by the waist. "If she's afraid to take a simple shot, she ain't gonna last in there."

"Piss off, Fushiguro," Geto - another member of your group - grits. "Not all of us are hopeless alcoholics like you are."

"And 'm not afraid," you butt in, glaring at Toji. "A bitch can't hesitate?"

“Just drink it, girl,” Toji replies, his tone bored.

You roll your eyes at him before you turn away from the group and quickly take the shot, knowing you're going to need it inside. Because, no thanks to Choso, you’re going to be all alone. Geto is paired with your other friend, Satoru, and your girlfriend has Toji. Geto had offered to ditch Satoru for you, but you like the idea of being by yourself.

So, in short, you'll need a lot of liquid courage to make it through, even though Ghostface is your favorite Halloween character - and you can hardly contain your excitement.

"Alright!" Toji and your friend clap after you turn back around with a grimace.

The line moves forward. Your group is going to start being escorted inside, pair by pair, and you’ll be the last of everyone to enter. You snatch another shot from your friend and take it back, the sinking feeling in your stomach setting in, knowing how close you are to a dream come true.

But what outweighs your fear is your fantasy. Ghostface is hardly scary as he turns you on, like a pervert in heat. You had never built up the courage to ask your exes to wear the mask in bed or anything, but the fact that it had even crossed your mind makes you feel like some kind of freak.

"Step right up, step right up!" A voice booms from the man leading people in through the curtain, pulling you away from your thoughts.

He holds up an imaginary microphone to Toji and your friend.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" he asks with a grin.

Their answers conveniently match, which is cute, but not the answer the man was looking for; his face drops.

Then, the man pulls back the curtain to allow them to step through. Now you are alone with Geto and Satoru.

"You better have your arms ready," Satoru says with a nudge to Geto. "The minute anything pops out at me, I’m jumping on you.”

Geto huffs, "Absolutely not. We're not paying fifty bucks a pop for you to cower the whole time." He pauses to glance at you. "Besides, Y/N is literally going in by herself."

"Yeah, 'cause she'd rather die of fright than partner with you," Satoru teases, and Geto simply rolls his eyes.

You are zoning out of their conversation slowly, your heart thumping rapidly in your ears as time draws nearer for you to go inside.

The same routine happens with Satoru and Geto several minutes later; the bouncer asks them for their favorite scary movie before shoving them inside.

You shift your weight nervously, all alone now, your fingers fiddling with the trim of your skirt.

A few minutes pass by, shrieks coming from the other side, making you giggle at just how squeaky Satoru had gotten. Then, after another eternity, the bouncer turns to you.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" he questions, red eye contacts sliding down your body.

"Uh, I don't know," you reply with an innocent shrug.

"Oh come on, you have to have a favorite,” he grins, his face lighting up because someone finally catches his reference. “What comes to mind?"

"Um, Halloween, you know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters," you continue, unable to help smiling back at him.

He nods approvingly and pulls back the curtain, flashing lights on the other side greeting you. You swallow nervously as fog rolls over the floor, a red light at the end of a long walkway.

You carefully walk down, your buzz weighing down on you, but unfortunately not enough to get rid of your fear entirely. You look at the edge of every wall, waiting for something to jump out at you, but it never does.

Nothing happens except for cool air blowing in your face as you walk, hugging your arms, gooseflesh rising on the back of your neck. You begin to feel that this isn’t so bad, but right as you think you've made it out safely, you hear a footstep.

You turn in a flash, but there's nothing there. You know you heard it though.

You shake it off and turn back around, only to see him - standing all but a grave's length away from you.

You jump and shriek a bit as he just stands there, menacingly, in all his Ghostface glory.

You gulp thickly, alcohol lingering in your saliva. You try to come up with a fast plan; you couldn’t go down this easily.

You take a step to the side. He mirrors your actions.

You bring your hands up in defense now, feeling your stomach sink at the thought of what he could possibly do next. He cocks his masked head at an angle, slowly holding up his knife...

As he does this, you bolt right past him. He stands there for a second, possibly stunned, before you hear the crunching of him sprinting after you.

He's hot on your heels. You've exited the safe cushion of the hallway and are now in the middle of darkness, only trees and tall labyrinth-like bushes surrounding you. It’s scary, but it’s exactly what you came for. You’re living an absolute dream.

You dare to glance over your shoulder as your chest becomes tight, your oxygen feeling as though it's being choked out of you.

He's not there.

Your body shakes in fear. It's so exhilarating. You smile sadistically to yourself, deciding to give yourself a break from running.

You run around a tall bush and squat down. You glance from side to side and listen for his footsteps. They're nearby, but there’s lots of bushes around. No way will he be able to pick the exact one you’re squatting behind.

You smirk and stay where you are, on your hands and knees. His footsteps get closer, and you hold your breath.

You can see him now through the branches in the bush, his shoulders bucked as he is equally on guard as you are. He stops to look around, listening for you.

You lose your balance and take a step back, crack!

His head whips in your direction, the permanent scream etched into the mask giving your cunt its own pulse.

You let out a deep breath and back up, still crouching, as he starts to come around the bush.

You make a run for it.

Trees seem to taunt you as you zigzag through the darkness, your boots crunching twigs and dead leaves.

You realize too late that you are lost.

You can’t keep running. Your breath is slowly disappearing.

You think you may have a moment of sanctuary, so you find a bush, a tall bush that has no visibility - but that also fortunately means you cannot see if he’s near.

You squat low to the ground and pant as quietly as you can. You’re enjoying yourself, but unfortunately without a partner, you have no way to discuss strategy. You don’t know what to do next.

But that’s when you hear it.

Crunch!

Someone is nearby, but you can’t see how nearby.

You figure you may have time to run again; the issue is that you still can hardly breathe.

But, another part of you writhes in the idea of being caught. You know realistically, though, that they aren’t allowed to touch you, but God do you wish for the opposite.

You swallow down the burn in your throat from running. You need to move.

You turn your back for a split second to look for a new hiding spot - your eyes land on a gap in foliage nearby. You turn back to stand straight, but to your horror a new Ghostface is there, standing tall over you; bare, toned abs covered in blood glistening under the moonlight. You feel your breath hitch and you yelp again.

"Surprise, Sidney," he beams, his voice a little raspy and - dare you say, familiar.

You swallow again before ripping an exaggerate shriek, scrambling to stand up, backing away as you do so, before thump! your spine hits the bark of a tree you swore wasn’t there a second ago. You’re trapped between bushes and trees.

Your chest heaves as you try to back up farther against the tree, but to no avail, and the half-naked Ghostface creeps closer. His hand with the fake knife is raising slowly, which you know is for dramatic effect. But on account that you know he can’t really stab you, you wonder what his plan is once he reaches you.

You whine, shaking your head with a quivering lip, wondering if you can fight, or run. But instead you become distracted as you take another look at him.

God, his stomach is carved into perfect shapes of abdominal muscle. You're so enticed by such art that you don't even notice him putting a hand right behind your head.

Your lips part in surprise once you register the closeness, and your back arches against the tree, as if that would move you farther away from him.

He takes his knife and presses the tip to your chin - using force to point your face towards him, and you make eye contact with the two soulless pits he has for eyes.

"What do you suppose I ought to do with you now, hmm?" he questions lowly, tilting his head to the side.

You swallow thickly, hands scrambling behind you against the bark of the tree. The next group should be arriving soon - right? You wonder how long you will be alone with him. You don't think you'll make it if he keeps you pinned to the tree like this.

"Let me go," you suggest, voice hoarse from fright, and lust.

"Well sheesh, Y/N, that's lame," the voice suddenly raises a few octaves and is much more playful than before. "I mean - goddamnit."

"You-” you cut yourself on in astonishment. “How do you…?”

"I fucking ruined it," he growls. "I'm so stupid."

Suddenly, he's breaking away from you, his knife falling from your face. You watch in actual horror as he uses his free hand to lift up his mask - revealing the angelic face of your best friend. Choso.

"Cho, what the fuck?" you gasp, your fright immediately dissolving into... embarrassment, but masking it in the form of annoyance. "You dick, what are you doing here?"

"I told you that I had to work," he says meekly, "I thought it would be fun to play Ghostface, but I mostly thought you’d enjoy it.”

You feel a little bad after that, he’s entirely too sweet. But you can't help but wonder what he’s implying.

"I... do enjoy seeing you as Ghostface," you admit, but you're embarrassed because you know he saw you ogling the fuck out of his abs. "But... you went through all this trouble for me?"

"Mhmm," Choso nods proudly, his hair falling boyishly over his forehead. "What, you don't like it?"

"No, I-I..." you taper off, unsure of what you want to say next. "It’s just, why are you shirtless? You did that for me too?”

As his face heats, his cheeks turn apple red. “Maybe.”

Oh, he’s terrible. This new knowledge does not help the tingling at the meeting of your thighs.

His embarrassed face changes to a grin after seeing the expression on your face, and he takes a step closer to you again. "So, you forgive me for bailing on you then, yeah?”

“Mm, not quite,” you frown. “You think you can just flash your sexy pecs and toned stomach at me and I’ll forget that you left me here all alone?”

You see each word hit Choso, but you try to look past it, as you’re only speaking to him like this to rile him up. Because now, your nerves are on fire, lust filling up your body. He’s so close, why is he standing so close? You can smell him; a heavenly mix of wood, musk, and corn syrup.

He smelled like your Choso, who’s body fit perfectly against yours when you cuddled, who’s silky hair slid through your fingers when you played with it, who’s laugh is extremely contagious. You try not to make it obvious that you’re inhaling deeply, breathing him in for what felt like the first time.

Damned the alcohol, you think to yourself. Making you look at your friend with such feelings you’ve been swallowing for months. But you just can’t help it…

“You think my pecs are sexy?” Choso asks, but he’s not grinning. He looks genuinely shocked.

You don’t reply and instead smile at his innocence. “And not to mention, did you not even see how scared I was?”

“I did, but,” Choso admits, “I… I’m probably some kind of sick freak, because-“

“Because you liked it?” you finish for him, and his moon-colored face somehow grows whiter.

He nods carefully.

“I feel the same way,” you reply, taking a shaking hand and planting it right over his heart. You feel the pec flex as he responds to your touch. “Why haven’t you dressed up f’me before?”

Choso’s Adam’s Apple bobs harshly in his throat. “I…I thought you’d be weirded out.”

“No,” you said softly, “it’s amazing, Choso. That you enjoy my interests enough to go out of your way like this.”

“Well, of course,” he scoffs, shaking his hair from his eyes. “I would do anything to make you happy.”

“Like what?” you coo, tilting your head to the side, sliding your hand across his chest to grip his thick arm.

“Y/N,” Choso breathes, his eyes fluttering shut. “You h-have to stop touching me like that.”

“Not till you answer my question,” you say.

“Whatever you want,” he whispers, leaning towards you more, as if he wants to put his head on your shoulder. “I am a man of little words. I don’t know what it is that women like.”

“Well, I promise I’m not that complicated,” you reply, sliding your hand up the side of his neck to rest on his jaw. He nuzzles his cheek into your touch.

“No, but you might not want what it is that I really want to do to you,” Choso spits out suddenly, his words coming fast and nervously.

“To me?” you ask, astonished.

He grunts and shifts his weight uncomfortably. “For you. I-I meant for you.”

“No, you didn’t,” you tug your bottom lip with your top teeth - his words traveling straight to your cunt. You couldn’t take much more of this. “How do you know I don’t want it unless you try?”

“Because,” Choso grits suddenly, jerking his head away from your face. “All the guys say you’d never go for someone like me. They say I wouldn’t know what to do with you.” He pauses to sigh. “They may be right but, nonetheless, I wanna see you scream and run like you did a second ago. It just got me so…”

He grunts uncomfortably, and you try to pretend you don’t notice the freakishly long bulge in his costume pants.

“You know everything about me,” you frown, dropping your hand. “You shouldn’t have listened to them.”

“Well, we are just friends,” he replies nervously. “Didn’t want to do anything you don’t want.”

You scoff, “What could you possibly wanna do? You know my limits.”

Choso bites his lip. “But I want to… to push the limits really hard. Especially since,” he pauses and glances around. “We are alone.”

“Push them, then,” you say, and you swear Choso’s eyes are going to pop free from their sockets. “Let’s say I run and hide again. If you can find me…” you pause to smile. “All limits are off.”

You blink up at him innocently, wanting to run your hand over his bulge just as a tease - but you refrain. You had plenty of tricks ready for him.

Choso’s eyes flash and he looks down at the ground for a second. When his head lifts again, desire has overcome his pupils, and he’s smirking.

“Better run then, Sidney. I will not be merciful.”

You take a deep breath before peeling yourself off of the tree and beginning a sprint. Your stomach is knotted with excitement. You have no idea what’s going to happen, but you can’t believe Choso’s down for… whatever it is.

You must have been dreaming. This would change things between you and Choso forever, but maybe that was for the better. Maybe the two of you needed to do this to break the friendzone, even if it was in the form of some kind of sick game of chase in the middle of a forest.

You run and run. You run until you can’t even see the actual attraction anymore; where there had previously been signs to let you know you were still in the bounds of the game, there’s none now.

You may very well be lost but you’re also away from possibly being seen by anyone. Totally not intentional.

You smirk as you find a new spot, and plant yourself there. You should have a few minutes before Choso catches up.

You take your phone out of your pocket. Barely any signal, but enough to see that the group chat is on fire.

Toji

There’s absolutely no reason I should hear Gojo screaming like a bitch from out here 😂

Satoru

ok, im hiding rn, and there’s people everywhere.

besides suguru left me ☹️

Geto

Yes because you were compromising my hiding place with your fuck ass breathing. 👍🏼

Y/F/N

Well, Suguru just made it, so now where are you?

And Y/N?

Satoru

there’s literally nothing but trees ????

but i think i see the lights at the exit

Toji

mentioned you in the chat: You got ma girl here worrying bout you , are u alive???

Satoru

Y/N wya so you can help me out of here 😭🙏🏼

You

im trying to stay off my phone, take notes

Satoru

nah hell nah. i need my phone out in case i need to call 911.

Toji

The cops can’t do shit for u 😭

Y/F/N

mentioned you in the chat: Are you lost?

Choso

Guys did you leave her alone?! Wtf

Nanami

Yeah, you guys are sick.

Satoru

im not hearing shit from the two mfs who decided not to come.

Geto

I offered to go with her -.-

You

i can see the exit guys. im fine you lie.

Satoru

i can see the exit too. i don’t see u. sure ur in the right place?

Geto

I can see your hair, Satoru.

Satoru

FUCK HE FOUND ME

Geto

As could anyone with eyes -.-

Y/F/N

Satoru just came out screaming so loud he woke up a baby. Now they’re crying together 😭

Choso

Guys focus. What did you do to Y/N

You

im fine cho <3

Satoru

AWWWW

Toji

Brotha eughhhh

Y/F/N

Okay, we’re going to play some of the games. Call us when you make it to the exit or if we haven’t heard from you, we’re coming in bitch!

Nanami

Good. At least you all have a plan.

Your phone continues to buzz, but you don’t reply. You sigh, silently thanking Choso for playing along with you in the chat.

“Seems like your friends are looking for you,” a voice suddenly breathes, muffled from the mask.

Your breath hitches as you lock your phone and it falls to the forest floor.

“You found me so fast,” you say with a gulp, turning to face him.

“Didn’t wanna waste precious time,” he says with a chuckle. “Now, what’s that you said? All limits are off? I can do whatever I want?”

You smirk as you turn to face him. “Does widdle Cho even know what he wants?” you mock.

You can’t see his face under the mask, but his body responds to you: his shoulders tense and his head leans forward.

“You,” he says quietly. “On my cock.”

You bite your lip, “Oh? How?”

He grunts and steps forward, before taking your throat between his fingers. His squeeze is soft, not enough to take your breath but enough to force your head still.

“Need your pretty lips on it,” he replies. “Wanna smear your lipstick. Always love when you get dolled up, but too bad y’gonna look a mess when I’m finished.”

You whine a bit in response and hold his wrist, looking directly at the eyes of the mask. “Where’s this side been hiding?”

“Told you already,” he grunts, “didn’t wanna scare you off with the twisted things I think about doing to you.”

You groan at the way his words are flooding straight to your panties. You thank your past self for wearing a skirt, it’s going to be so ridiculously easy to slide out of it.

“You think some head is twisted?” you grin. “Maybe they were right when they said you couldn’t handle me.”

This earns you a deep growl as he uses his grip on your throat to force you to slide down, until your knees hit the hard earth. You hiss in pain but ultimately don’t care, as he releases your throat and uses his knife to tip your face up towards him.

At this angle, he’s delicious. Solid stomach stares at you from just inches away and the mask on his shoulders makes your thighs quench with desire.

“I mean face fucking you until you’re gasping for air,” he grits, “‘Choso, no’ you’d say, but I can’t understand you with a mouth full of dick, hmm?”

You blink up at him, too stunned to reply. Your lips part in expectancy, and your hands shoot out to lay flat against the top of Choso’s thighs.

He’s doing such a fantastic job of catering to your disgusting fantasy that you can’t help but slither your hands up to the top of his waistband before he can say another word. You want to please him so bad, wanna be good for your Choso.

He stands and watches, still as air. His chest rises and falls as he breathes, the mask still staring down at you, but it makes things hotter knowing that on the other side of the mask is Choso’s stare.

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of the black pants.

Choso lets out a small noise. “I-I’m supposed to be the one in control, not fair.”

You grin but do not halt your movements. Your fingers begin tugging, tugging, tugging down the pants - along with his boxers.

You watch as his length slowly gets revealed until it inevitably pops out - slapping against his stomach before hanging erect in alignment with your face.

You take in a deep breath, and Choso appears to be holding his own. You examine his cock, just to make him nervous. He’s got a very thin amount of hair that leads from the trail on his stomach, the length itself being veiny and darker than him; skinny at the base, but fat and terrifying at the pink tip.

“I knew it’d would be this pretty,” you hum, “pretty cock on a pretty boy.”

Choso’s hips shift as he knocks himself forward so that the tip grazes your chin, leaving a faint residue of his sticky precum. Your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

“Th-Thank you,” he whimpers, “need your throat.”

He leans down to take one of your pigtails into each hand. He is not gentle now, his grip being harsh enough to make you yelp; when you do, he stuffs his dick right between your red lips.

Your eyes flutter closed immediately at the feeling of a full mouth. You carefully wrap your lips around him as he slowly shoves his hips forward until he’s barely halfway in, and his tip kisses the back of your throat.

You stick your tongue out so that it can glide against the sensitive underside of his cock. He notices and his head tilts back.

“S-So warm,” he moans out, sitting stagnant for a minute, before looking down at you.

You hum a bit, knowing the vibrations feel good against his tip, and he thanks you by sliding his cock back out of your mouth and ramming it back in.

You gag and your mouth gets watery, drool leaking out of the corners and covering every inch of him that you are able to take. His thrusts start getting faster, smearing your lipstick all along the length of him, his grip on your hair never loosening.

His little moans are so delicious; soft whines as he uses your face for his pleasure.

“Doin’ s-so much better than I imagined,” he mutters out, and though you love looking up and seeing the mask, you desperately want to see his innocent face twisted up as he experiences this ungodly amount of pleasure.

“Mmh-” you moan around him.

You’re still in awe that this is happening. You’d had plenty of opportunities to do things like this with him, but you’d never been sure he would go for it. You guess you can’t blame him for feeling the same way, because how were either one of you going to ask for a face fuck?

All that doesn’t matter anymore because everything in this moment is perfect, including him. Your Choso.

You take your hand and wrap it around the base at the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth. You take him out of your mouth to plop a pool of spit there and slide your hand up and down for a minute, giving your jaw a break.

“Take off the mask for a second,” you say to him, now that you can speak.

He obeys immediately. The mask is gone, hanging from the hand that doesn’t have a fist full of your hair.

Your lips part at seeing his perfect face, fucked out, twisted in astonishment.

“Back in,” he demands softly, tugging your pigtail.

You blink as you obey and slide your mouth back over his length. You keep your face angled upwards to look at him, and he’s staring down at you like you’re both the most amazing thing he’s ever seen and the best thing he’s ever felt.

You lather up your saliva as you continue trying to go down as far as you can, taking his cock down your throat, which unlocks a new noise from Choso that gets your cunt pounding harder.

You twist your hand over the base and hollow your mouth out to squeeze your cheeks around his sensitive skin. By now your face is covered in drool, spit bubbles all around his tip, saliva dripping onto the earth below you.

Choso loses it and leans forward, releasing your hair and dropping his mask, placing his hands on the trunk of the tree. Now his hips are thrusting, hard - the bottom of his stomach kissing the tip of your nose as he fucks your face.

“Hah - oh,” he whines as he uses your mouth. “Th-Think ‘mgonna cum already.” He sounds sad, and you smile on his dick.

You don’t say anything back but you grumble deep in your throat again, knowing it’s going to drive him insane.

But he quickly pulls his cock back out of your mouth with a deep breath as if his head had been underwater.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Not till I get to make you feel good, too.”

“I did feel good,” you say hoarsely, wiping saliva and lipstick from your face. “Liked pleasing you.”

Choso groans and shakes his head, his chest heaving rapidly. “Stand up for me,” he says gently.

You miss rough Choso already.

You obey though, standing back tall, almost eye level to him in your thick boots.

He doesn’t waste any time; in a flash he’s latched himself onto you, hands pressing into your thighs and he slides them up slowly towards your hips. He tilts his head to the side as you find your back hitting the tree - again, this time, circumstances much different.

“Can’t believe my pretty best friend wants me to fuck her,” he speaks, voice sultry with lust. “Sounds too good to be true.” He leans forward again and lets his nose brush yours, and you shiver with a deep sigh.

“I want you so much,” you say pathetically, bringing your arms over his shoulders and digging your fingertips into the hair behind his head.

His brows furrow in pleasure and you keep speaking.

“In different ways,” you say, “not just to fuck me. But right now… that’s all I want. Please, I need it. Need you.”

“Such a good girl when you beg,” Choso’s voice is soft, but firm, “you never have to beg with me, but I love hearing it. Keep going.”

“Please.”

“Yes?”

“Please, Choso.”

“Choso what?”

“Mmh - god, I hate you.”

“Love you most.”

You go to fire back, but he shuts you up with a harsh crash of his mouth against yours. His warm, wet lips mold right into yours, sliding effortlessly together. Your hands shoot out to his shoulders and he keeps his hands on your hips, gripping them like you’re going to disappear if he doesn’t maintain his hold on you.

Your name leaves his lips in soft little pants as he tilts his head to the side, forcing your lips apart with his tongue before he slides the wet muscle inside so deep that you can feel it on the back of your throat.

You suck on his tongue and he grunts thanks into your mouth. Your hands are running wildly over each other, as if you could crawl inside one another’s skin, two souls joining as one.

He breaks away and gasps, and you grab him by his hair and force his head to an angle. He allows you to then leave sloppy, red kisses all over his neck. His eyes flutter closed as you pleasure him, knowing your innocent baby must feel so good.

You pull back and blink at the mess on his neck.

“Cho, it left stains, I…”

“Don’t care,” he hisses, “brand me all you want. Want everyone to know, that in some way, you own me.”

His big hands whip you around suddenly, like you’re nothing but a ragdoll; now your cheek is planted against the tree and your hands are digging into the bark for stability.

Choso rips up your skirt, and presses his bare, wet cock right to your backside.

“Always fuck my pillow while I moan for you, y’know,” he grunts, reaching his arm around the front of your waist, tugging the thin material that are your panties to the side. “Then you come over and lay your pretty head all in my cum, leaving your scent, and I do it again. Can’t get enough, just love you so much.”

You gasp as he talks, the quake of desire making your legs tremble as Choso’s fingers start circling your clit. Your best friend - so sweet and cute - knew exactly where to find it. You cry out.

You want to pretend you’re disgusted at him making you sleep on his cum, but you really don’t care. You find the thought exhilarating, wondering how many times he’d done that, while smiling innocently next to you.

“Y-You’re so - mmh,” a moan cuts you off as he applies more pressure to your clit. “You fuck yourself to me? My good boy.”

Choso whines before he begins panting against the back of your neck, pathetically rubbing himself against your fishnets, leaving slimy trails of his precum and your saliva all over your ass. He’s keeping the same rhythm with his hips as his fingers on your bundle of nerves, and just when you think nothing can feel any better, he starts to push his dick between your thighs.

You feel his cock slide over your clothed pussy over and over, meeting his fingers at your clit as he swirls them expertly.

Your eyes roll back as you try desperately to reach your high, but you need him to stop teasing you. And fast.

“Choso, please,” you cry, pushing your hips back against him, the sound of your skin meeting his pelvis cracking like the twigs under your feet.

“What is it, my love?” he coos hotly in your ear. “What do you want? Anything, you got it.”

“Ngh - you, goddamnit,” you growl now, frustration overcoming your softness for your best friend. “Who taught you to tease like this?”

Choso chuckles in your ear, “My dear, you did.”

You gasp as he pulls his hands and his cock away from you suddenly. “H-How did I-”

“Mmh, did you think I wasn’t listening to you whenever you’d come over and tell me about your hookups?” he questions softly, taking a step back and you realize he’s going to collect his mask. “It hurt, believe me, but I’ve been taking notes. Wanted to ensure I could make you happier than those other losers.”

You realize this means Choso’s been thinking of fucking you for way longer than you can comprehend. You can hardly blame him; though it came later, you’d had the same awful thoughts of him, but you were able to control it. You’d talked yourself out of it, that is, until tonight - with the liquor in your system.

“You make me happier without fucking me, y’know,” you grin, as his presence returns behind you.

“Oh,” his voice drops, “s-so you don’t wanna do this anymore?”

You gasp and shake your head. Now isn’t the time to be second guessing things, you were deep in heat and Choso would be traumatized if you had to stand here any longer, your cunt dripping uncontrollably down your thighs.

“I want to, mmh,” you hiss, “‘m just saying, you make me happy in general. But… I wouldn’t know if you can fuck me as good as the others, would I?”

Choso growls at this. His fingertips find the edge of your panties and he pulls them over once again - your body jerks at the reunion of his hands on your skin.

“Not as good,” he corrects, “better.”

His dick finds your folds again, thigh fucking you for several moments to lubricate himself in your warm juices. You end up standing on your toes at the shiver that ensues from this, your back arching against him.

He takes a deep breath, and finally, pressure hits your hole as his pretty tip pushes through the threshold.

The first thing either of you says is a dramatic “fuck,” as Choso pauses with just the tip in.

“Why y’stopping?” you panic.

“Hah - the guys said if it’s really tight, you’re not ready f’me,” Choso says sadly.

He almost goes to move his hips back out when you shove yours against him, sliding yourself down several inches of cock.

“Just gotta give me a sec to adjust, Cho,” you say, growing angrier at a second mention of the cockblockers. “Y’so big.”

“Not big, you’re just tight like this,” he groans. “M-Might not last long.”

“‘s okay,” you say, biting your lip, knowing you’ve been brewing a devilish plan in your head the entire time - so if he cums fast, that has nothing to do with you. “Fill me up, please.”

Choso wastes no time bowing to your request. He takes his arms and wraps them around your body, planting his hands on your stomach, where he hikes up your shirt and your breasts fly out of their restraint - your bra.

“Mmh, mmh,” Choso’s mumbling behind you as he thrusts his entire length up into your cervix, dragging himself back out as slowly as he wants, before shoving his cock back in hastily.

His fingers are gently twisting your nipples now, this combined with the cold breeze from the woods has goosebumps rising all over you.

You whine a pathetic “Choso. My Choso,” as his pace quickens; his sheer amount of girth perfectly passing over the sensitive ridges in your canal. At the angle, his dick is curving up into your g-spot, making your cunt wetter; inflaming the urge to squirt all over him.

Choso is grunting like it’s his first time feeling a real pussy. He digs his fingers into the soft skin of your breasts for leverage and continues drilling his hip bones into your ass.

You decide to look back at him. The mask is on his face, which makes your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. One of his hands leaves your breast and finds your pigtail - yanking your head so that you’re forced to keep looking at him. You thank him by meeting the wrecking force of his hips with your own.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, his head falling back. “Fuck this cock, s’all yours. Doing so good-“ he cuts himself off with a whine. “Been in love with you for years, but now I know you got this good ass-” a grunt cuts him off, “ngh - fuck, and we’re just friends? I’m supposed to share this with other people?”

You laugh at him before your smugness is cut off with a moan. “N-Not anymore,” you answer, “I’m yours now, Choso.”

“All mine?” he echoes, driving an extra deep thrust into you for emphasis.

“Yours,” you repeat, “how do you feel about that?”

Choso growls and leans his torso forward, the delicate curve in your back sliding perfectly against his stomach and chest. “Like this.”

Fwip! Fwip! Fwip!

His pace grows quicker, harder. You can’t believe you’re still standing with the amount of pleasure he’s inflicting on your poor insides. Each time his tip hits the opening to your uterus, you sulk out a pathetic cry, but he’s not showing mercy. Your sweet best friend could care less how bad it hurts - and you love it.

“Need you to be meaner,” you groan, “more often. Fuck. Needed this so bad.”

“Yeah? Y’like that?” Choso buzzes, pulling your head towards him even harder. “Like me tearing up your guts?”

“S’much,” you are barely able to moan, let alone speak as white spots appear in your vision. “Wanna c-cum.”

“Mmh - not yet,” Choso purrs, hand falling from your hair, then leaning his head over your shoulder so that you can see a glimpse of the creepy Ghostface mask out of the corner of your eye. “Already gonna cum? Thought you were stronger than this.”

“Ngh - usually,” you whine pathetically, “but you - you feel so good.”

“I know,” Choso grins, slamming himself into you several times in a row before slowing his strokes to an agonizing pace.

You’re still convinced this is a dream you have yet to wake from. To think, he was afraid to even make the first move. Now you’re bent over, middle of the darkness, crying out his name as he fucks your brain against your skull. You can’t think, can’t feel anything besides your needy hole being filled and then some.

“O-Oh,” Choso grunts, “‘kay, maybe you can cum, ‘cause I don’t think ‘mma make it.”

“Oh, really?” you taunt, giggling, now using force from the tree to throw your whole body back against his.

“Y-Y/N, no,” he complains, his hands flying to your hips as if they’re reigns he needs to hang onto.

You ignore him, using all the strength in your legs to fuck back onto him, your pace fast - till you feel the twitch in his cock and his moans become louder than yours.

“No!” Choso shouts fakely, before trying to pull himself out of you, but you follow him with your hips and he lets his spurts of cum splash uncontrolled all over your walls.

You grin greedily because you’re not finished with him. You reach next to you and rip off his mask, wanting to see your plan unfold in his facial features.

Your hips don’t stop, even as Choso’s cock twitches and shakes inside of you, and his hands are leaving bloody nail-shaped crescents on your hips by now from the amount of pressure he’s putting on them.

“Hah - hah - ngh, mmm, n-noooo,” he whines, his head falling limp on your shoulder as you continue to swirl your hips on his cum-covered dick, using him to get your orgasm.

“Such a good boy, Cho,” you purr in his ear, “letting me use your cock however I want? Dressing up to get my attention? Fucking me exactly how I asked? S-So good.”

“Th-then why are you punishing me,” he stutters, his teeth sinking into your bare shoulder as overstimulation floods him.

“‘M not, Cho baby,” you say softly, “I need to cum too. Not fair only you get to finish, is it?”

“I-I was gonna help you,” he says, his voice muffled from his face buried in your shoulder.

He drives his point home by reaching up to your clit, using his fingers to rotate little devilish circles over the spot. You feel your stomach light itself on fire.

“Agh - can’t take it,” Choso groans. “‘m gonna cum again.”

You can barely hear him, because you’re so cockdrunk that your senses are gone. All that exists in your mind’s eye is Choso’s hand and his cock, both pleasuring you in different ways.

“‘M cumming!” you chant together, full body compulsions overcoming you both as you clench around him - milking every last drop of his second orgasm out as your own ripples through your veins.

You hear squelching as Choso gasps, and you’re vaguely aware of your pussy gushing, but you can’t find it in you to care as you’re still trying to stop grunting and shaking.

“Oh god,” you manage to rasp, your limp body falling towards the tree as Choso lets go of you.

He collapses against the tree next to you and slowly lifts up his pants as his chest heaves; the world silent around you, save for both of your breathing.

Moments pass and nothing is said, just a silent agreement in the air that the two of you need to gently float off back to the ground.

But then, Choso’s curious voice pierces the bubble.

“I-Is it bad that I…” Choso gestures to you. “Finished in you like that? N-never done that before, but it felt so nice.”

“No,” you answer, your voice ringing in your ears. “Nothing bad will happen, I take a pill to prevent that. Don’t worry. You can do that as much as you want and whenever you want.”

Choso nods, “Can’t even think about doing it again right now.”

He’s so fucked. You are too, feeling like you can’t get your brain to speak to your bones. You can’t move. All you can do is blink away your high and catch your breath, stars still dancing along your vision.

But after a while, you’re able to pry yourself off of the tree, and the two of you clean each other up as best as you can - Choso wipes his bloody hand print off of your throat, but when you try to get your lipstick off of his neck, he fights you.

“No,” he says sharply, “leave it.”

You feel your face heat. “Choso, everyone’s gonna know.”

“That we made out and you kissed my neck,” he grins, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your nose.

And just like that, your best friend, the person you love more than anything else has you wrapped around his finger and ready to obey his commands. His softness has returned for good.

The two of you find yourselves walking hand in hand through the woods, ecstasy surrounding you in your own little bubble.

You pull out your phone and alert your friends that you’re approaching; and when you two reach the gate, the whole group is standing there - Satoru munching on orange and black popcorn, Toji holding a stuffed panda with blood stains, Geto examining his nails, and Y/F/N slurping a giant purple drink.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Toji bursts out, almost immediately after seeing you two approach.

“I know you’re fucking lying,” Y/F/N adds, almost dropping her drink.

“You motherfuckers were in there FUCKING?” Satoru shouts, popcorn flying from his fingers in disbelief.

Choso turns beet red. “N-No, what?”

“Yep,” you nod, contradicting him. “Nasty, rough, raw sex.”

“RAW IS CRAZY!”

“Oh my GOD-”

“Hot.”

Everyone turns to look at Geto in disbelief.

“What? You mean to tell me you guys didn’t consider fucking in the woods?” he questions Toji.

“Well, I asked,” Toji says, scratching the back of his neck. “She said we’d get caught.”

Your friend kicks him in the leg.

“They didn’t,” Satoru points out. “You freaks. Choso, we didn’t even know you were here.”

“Right,” Choso nods. “That was the point.”

Satoru bursts into laughter which prompts the rest of the group to giggle.

“Also, we were wrong,” Toji admits suddenly. “We always tell him he can’t do shit with Y/N… but he managed to tame the beast. Well done, soldier.”

Choso rolls his eyes. “I-It’s not… I didn’t… she-”

“Well, anyways, I’m feeling rather… sobered now,” you cut him off, adjusting your shirt, unaware everyone can see the red marks Choso left on your sides, as well as the giant hole in your fishnets. “Say we grab some drinks?”

“Sounds nice,” Choso confirms.

“Oh I’m sure it does,” Toji snickers. “Gonna get her drunk again for round two?”

“Toji!”

“Ewww!”

“Nobody wanted to hear that!”

You giggle quietly next to Choso before you look up at him, only to see he’s already smiling down at you, disheveled hair and all.

“I love you, Sidney,” he coos.

“I love you more, Cho.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #choso kamo #jjk choso #ghostface #scream #ghostface smut #ghostface scream #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso my beloved

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gilverrwrites · 5 months ago

Text

Thinking about clit slapping again, per 2.5 asks, ya’ll make some great observations. Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, & Roy.

Bruce

Thinking about Bruce who loves to tease you with a straight face. Who tells you to “be patient”, who’s helping you build on your self-restraint by touching every inch of you with those big, thick hands except the one place you keep begging him for.

Bruce who keeps you on edge until it’s unbearable, until on a whim you decide if he’s not going to do anything about it, you will.

Bruce who grumbles in your ear, low and restrained; “What did I tell you?”

Bruce who opens your slick folds, in a controlled, slow motion which only serves to make you needier until he comes down on your sensitive clit with his other hand. The obscene smack that rings through his chambers is almost drowned out by your anguish, desperate cry.

Dick

Dick with his long, dexterous fingers who loves to explore every crevice of your body. Who would do anything to keep hearing you make those pretty noises for him.

Dick who knows the key to keeping you sex dazed is working your clit until it’s dark and swollen and you’re incapable of following a thought. So he rubs and grinds against it, swirls his tongue around it, and laps until his jaw is soaked in his own saliva and your juices.

And then one day, with no forethought, Dick flicks it with the back of his middle finger and the resulting sob was so delicious he had to eat up more.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” Dick purrs between sloppy kisses and strikes of growing intensity. “Do it again, baby. Come on, just for me pretty girl.”

Jason

And Jason, who is big and tough, and rough around the edges but would do anything you want to hear you praise him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” He asks you over and over again, basking and melting just a little bit more every time you reply with “Fuck, yes Jason! Feels so good baby.”

“Who? Who makes you feel good?” He begs for more. “You Jason, you!”

So when you ask Jason to try slapping your clit, he doesn’t hesitate. He slaps it once, savouring the way your body tremors under the force of his brawny hand. Twice, and he can’t believe how lucky he is to have found someone so beautiful and shameless as you. Three times, with no end in sight.

Tim

Tim read about it in an cosmopolitan article and can’t wait for the chance to experiment with you, and he knows if he plays his cards just right you’ll always cave.

“Spread your legs.” He murmurs in a voice that’s assertive but so soft. The tips of his long hair tickle your soft skin as he kisses his way down your torso. Tim’s warm, calloused hands guiding your thighs apart as he slinks between them. “That’s it hon, just like that.”

He intends to warm you up, to rub your pretty little clit beneath his thumb until you’re pleading for more, to spell T-I-M on it with his tongue over and over but; “I’ve barely touched you and you’re this wet already?”

Before you can answer Tim used two fingers to spread your slick folds apart and delivers a sharp slap right where you’re most sensitive, blue eyes unblinking, soaking in your reaction.

Despite knowing from the way your back arches and your eyes roll back, Tim asks; “Did you like that baby, do you want more?”

Roy

Your body is like target practice to Roy, which is to say; he never misses.

Roy has every inch of you ingrained in his mind. Teasing, and touching, and getting you off is as easy to him as firing his bow, its muscle memory.

Not once does Roy need to break away from your needy, heated kisses as he undresses you. There’s not a thought in his head other than how hot you look when you’re dishevelled and riled up as he unhooks your bra or curls his fingers on your core.

Roy brags that he could find your clit, one-handed and blindfolded, and sometimes he likes to put that into practice. He tells you to “Lay back, Princess.” Then he closes his eyes, makes a show of spinning around or pretending to sniff you out and then he spanks your clit with the kind of powerful precision only he could possess.

Taglist: @wandalfnation

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nicksolemnlyswears · 6 months ago

Text

STAY WITH US

this oneshot can be read as a standalone.

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME (PT. 2 HELAENA'S TURN)

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen! reader x helaena targaryen

word count: ~2.7k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of death of a child, mentions of blood, light cursing

a/n: so i lied, so sorry, my apologies, remember how i said i wanted this part to be smut? well it didn't happen. in the end it didn't seem right because these oneshots originated form a place of care and comfort [not horniness like usual]

that being said i am open to doing a series of small oneshots based on their relationship that are more spicy because regardless it lives rent free on my brain and i'd love to share the pervertedness they'd get up to. also i've never written a threesome and that seems like a good writing exercise.

hope you like this oneshot. it's really sweet and when i was thinking of what else to do with them it simply clicked. my only wish is for it to have the same comfort provoking feeling as the other two. while this little series was written as a way for me to feel better about these characters it makes me happy to know it served the same purpose for a lot of you guys. also this was my first time writing for HoTD and you're all so nice ;) THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE.

enjoy!

Without Jaehaerys by her side, his twin sister Jaehaera must adjust to being alone. Her lifelong playmate is gone, and now she ought to find her place as an only child.

The silver-haired girl restlessly jumps through different activities, searching for the one that will entertain her long enough without company. It is difficult because each time she successfully gets distracted, she turns to catch her brother's attention, only to find he's no longer there.

Queen Helaena watches her as she stitches together a new embroidery piece for a dress. The Queen spent her days with both her children, but now that one of them is gone, she spends nearly every waking moment with her daughter. Observing. Protecting. Alert.

"The three-headed dragon shall rise once more," Helaena mumbles under her breath. The maids ignore her mumblings. The Queen's words don't make sense half the time.

A squeal of delight from her daughter prompts the needle to pierce Helaena's finger and a bead of blood forms at the pad of it. Looking up, she finds you picking up Jaehaera and kissing her chubby cheeks. The girl is enamored by her cousin and the attention you provide.

"Good morrow, 'Laena," you brightly greet her, setting down Jaehaera and sitting by her on the floor. "Have you broken fast yet?"

Helaena places a hand in yours as a greeting and nods kindly, assuring you she's been eating all her meals. At times, her appetite turns into nausea as glimpses of her dead son invade her senses, but she tries fighting through it.

She closes her eyes and thinks of anything else—primarily you. You who distract her and treat her with such care without judgment of her eccentricities. It's odd how she's caught herself multiple times seeking your approval.

As Helaena returns to her stitching, Jaehaera bounces over and falls into your arms. "I wish for my hair to be like yours."

"Allow me, Princess," Jaehaera's nursemaid intervenes. She does not wish to be seen as lazy and incapable of her job to care for the children.

The small Princess holds tightly onto you, hiding her face on your chest as she settles on your lap. "No, I want my cousin to do it. She's a Princess, and I want Princess's hair."

You giggle at her words and gesture to the nursemaid that it's alright. "Come on, sweet girl, sit," you coo, positioning her in front of you.

One of the maids hands you a hairbrush, and you begin your work. As a Princess, your hair is mostly styled by your maids, but every lady should know how to style it appropriately.

"You're such a pretty girl, Jaehaera. Did you know that?" You talk to distract her from squirming too much. She's an impatient little thing, like her father.

Jaehaera giggles sound throughout the room. She hasn't laughed like that since her brother died. It brings a sad smile to Helaena's lips.

"You're prettier," Jaehaera whispers bashfully, her cheeks a healthy hue of pink.

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're much more beautiful. Do you know why?"

Jaehaera shakes her head, causing you to hold tightly onto the intricate plaits you're weaving in her hair. You inadvertently smile at her benightedness.

"Because you look just like your mummy, and she's very beautiful, and she's a Queen," you gasp lightly, creating a tone of excitement in your voice.

Although she's kept her nose down while stitching, Helaena's cheeks burn just as brightly as her daughters. Your words continue to flatter her. You have a way with words that can make even the most ordinary of townsfolk feel special.

With a small, excited gasp, Jaehaera asks, "Will I be Queen one day?"

"There's always a possibility," you hum, pining the remaining plait into her hair. It is hard to explain the complexities of succession and legacy to a child when there is a current war debating that same subject. "All done, go over to the mirror."

"She adores you," Helaena sighs as she watches her daughter fawn over her new hairstyle.

"And I, her. She's the sweetest girl ever."

Helaena turns to look at you and sees the soft smile gracing your lips. Your eyes then catch hers, and your smile broadens. It makes her wonder what her life would be like if you were not around. How would she have dealt with her emotions?

"I must go, but can you come to my bedchambers tonight? There is a matter I must discuss with you," Helaena says timidly, casting aside her embroidery.

"As you wish, my Queen." You can't fault her for preferring to speak in the depth of the night when the castle sleeps, and there are no wandering eyes to pass judgment.

It gives Helaena whiplash when you effortlessly switch from calling her name to calling her 'my Queen.' She rather enjoys both terms, especially when you call her yours.

Helaena bids you farewell with a kiss on the cheek, blissfully unaware of its effect on you. Such displays of affection are not rare in court, but lately, their significance has changed for you, as Helaena has never been one to indulge in court etiquette when it involves physical touch.

When the sun has disappeared over the horizon, and the castle has quieted down, you make your way to the Queen's bed chambers.

You have always been inclined to stay in the shadows, where it's safe. You are a sheep amongst a den of wolves, and if you draw too much attention to yourself, danger will follow.

You have failed so far, considering you enjoy the company of the King and Queen. Grief unexpectedly brought you together and made your bond steadfast, but wherever Aegon and Helaena go, watchful gazes follow, thus making you part of the spectacle as well.

Otto and Alicent Hightower are taking the reins of this unnecessary war, but you feel safe under Aegon's and Helaena's careful watch. You believe they will protect you from any danger coming from within the castle walls, at the very least.

You're doing your mother a great disservice as you strengthen the bond of the King and Queen. The ache of losing a child will forever remain in their hearts, and waves of pain continue to crash, but that thick fog of grief that was cast upon them has slowly started to lift, thanks to you.

Pushing open the door to Helaena's bedchambers, you step into the room. It's well into the night, and the candlelight illuminates the room. You stumble over your steps when you notice Aegon and Helaena standing close together as if they were about to kiss.

"My apologies, your graces. I believed the Queen to be alone," you bow your head, red painting your cheeks. It's a gesture that originates from embarrassment rather than submissiveness.

"Do not apologize. We wished to speak to you," Aegon speaks, beckoning you deeper into the room.

He offers you a goblet of wine, which you accept gracefully to alleviate the dizzying wave of nerves you're feeling. You've never been alone with Aegon and Helaena. People have always been around, and up to a fortnight ago, they barely spoke to one another.

The ruling couple sought your counsel regarding their marriage, recognizing you as an intermediary. You offered your advice to the best of your abilities, considering you have yet to marry.

With time and encouragement, they reached out to each other for comfort. Piece by piece, they were able to speak and share the emotions that troubled them. Nonetheless, they kept you closer than ever.

You're the calm amidst the storm.

You take a drink of the sweet wine to busy yourself. Helaena and Aegon stand side by side, his hand on the small of her back as Helaena plays with her fingers. They're backlit by the fire burning by the fireplace. It casts a warm glow over their figures, making the situation seem much more intimate. You're certainly intruding.

"We wish to thank you for everything you've done for us recently," Helaena breaks the creeping silence. She's just as nervous as you are, if not more.

"Helaena and I have been thinking about how to repay you for your generosity," Aegon continues, staring intently back at you to gauge your reaction to his words. He's afraid of reading you wrong and fucking things up—like he usually does.

You instantly shake your head, "As I said before, there is no need-"

Helaena's following words cause silence to befall as you stare back at them in surprise. A sort of surprise they cannot read. "We wish to wed you," Helaena blurts nervously, her fingers twisting together.

This is not a moment to speak in riddles. Helaena is fully aware of the situation before her and wishes nothing more than for you to stay by their side, no matter the cost.

For once in her life, she hasn't felt lonely in the castle. She has an ally she can trust and confide in.

You've been the subject of Aegon and Helaena's conversations for numerous nights. At first, it was difficult to understand that they both held deep affection towards you while caring for each other. They debated for a long time about what to do about it and they agreed on one thing wholeheartedly—you only deserved the best.

Then, it came to Aegon.

He's named after Aegon' The Conqueror' Targaryen. The King took over the seven kingdoms with his sister wives by his side.

A simple Valyrian tradition would solve their dilemma while strengthening his claim to the throne. It's poetic, a part of history being re-enacted.

"Pardon?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. You stare back at them with wide eyes as they jump from Aegon to Helaena and back to Aegon.

The goblet in your hand lightly shakes along with your hand. You place it on a nearby table, afraid of spilling it. Surely, you misheard.

"Our affection grows greater day by day. More than we ever thought possible," Helaena confesses, desperately reaching for your hand.

Your gaze falls on Aegon to seek his opinion, and he nods in agreement. There is not much to say. You have proved yourself valuable to them in a way that is much too important. You serve to keep them sane and emotionally stable. A feat no one has cared to accomplish before.

You do not use Aegon as a puppet or manipulate him to achieve sinister goals on behalf of his name, much like the rest of the court does. Those people only care for power, even if they break Aegon piece by piece. They destroy him while you take the time to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

"Such drastic actions must not be taken. I merely offered you comfort when you needed it because I care for you both," you stutter, pressing a hand to your forehead. All of a sudden, the room is warm, and a layer of perspiration forms on the back of your neck.

Aegon grunts and approaches you, cupping your face in his palms, "That is precisely why we wish to do this. You have cared for us like no one has before, including ourselves. You planted yourself in our souls, and now we cannot let you go lest we go insane. If you do not feel the same, say it, but do not lie to us."

His tone is firm, yet he cannot disguise the pleading behind it. He's never wanted something as much as he wants you.

"I-" Your palms ghost over the top of his.

It is all too much. The prospect of being wed looms over your head like a threat. Otto Hightower will have no qualms about using your lack of a husband as a war strategy. It should not be his decision in the first place, but it is out of your hands as you're considered a prisoner to him.

You would be a liar if you said you did not reciprocate their feelings. They've been present for a while now, it is why comforting them comes so easily to you. Seeing them hurt only pains you.

With this new opportunity, you will no longer be used. You will not be sold to some old lord in the countryside for the gain of a few hundred men. You would be protected.

Most importantly, you will marry a man and a woman who love you. Yes, they are broken, but with you by their side, they will thrive and rise to the occasion.

Aegon's lilac eyes beg you to accept their proposal. "I feel emotions I thought impossible. They are confusing and overwhelming, but they are real," you admit.

Relief floods over Aegon, and he can't help but release a sigh of relief. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a silent thank you to the old gods and the new.

"Will you become our wife? Our lifelong companion?" Helaena asks, coming up behind you. You feel her breath on your neck as she leans her head on your shoulder.

One word is enough to respond. One simple word will change your life. For good or bad is to be determined.

"Yes," you breathe, reaching for her hand. The smile on Aegon's lips and Helaena's giggles in your ear make it all worth it.

Aegon needed to do things right so no one could argue against your union. He contacted the Septon himself, and only a day later, after his proposal, the Valyrian ceremony took place.

He clearly instructed his guard and the Septon that they must not tell anyone, or there would be consequences.

The ceremony is quick and private amongst the gardens of the Red Keep. You wear the traditional red and gold robes and headpieces that match Aegon's.

A red dragon decorates the front of your garb, matching Helaena's golden one on her dress. She stands to the side with a faint smile, Jaehaera clinging to her dress.

Aegon carefully cuts your lip with the dragon glass. As blood surges to the surface, he presses his thumb to the cut and later spreads it across your skin. You repeat the same on his lips, staring apologetically back at him, yet the burning pain does not compare to the pain he's felt before. It's almost pleasurable as he takes in the symbolism of the gesture.

Cutting your palms, you let the blood that will bind you together for eternity fall onto the goblet. You lock eyes with Aegon as you take a drink from it, passing it to him a moment later.

He was not raised surrounded by Targaryen customs, but he has a new deep appreciation for them. The ceremony is deeply intimate as they share the blood that will mark them as one.

With a couple of final words, the Septon concludes the ceremony and with the knowledge that you are entirely theirs, Aegon crashes his lips against yours.

Aegon stayed firm in his words. He did not wish to sully your name, so he waited until the moment was right. The reward is much too sweet.

It is the first time you've shared a kiss with Aegon, and it is unlike anything you've felt before. In the past, you've snuck kisses in dark corners of the Red Keep, but none have ever kissed you with the intensity Aegon has to offer.

Helaena approaches your tangled embrace, and as you resurface for a breath, she presses her much more delicate lips on yours. The kiss is so different yet the same simultaneously. The intent behind it is identical while the pace is slower and sultrier.

Yours and Aegon’s blood coats her lips and it’s as if she also partook on the ceremony. Your heart beats intensely inside your chest but you’re happy.

Finally, you three are bonded, destined to stay together for eternity.

Jaehaerys will forever be missed. His life has become a mystery; Aegon and Helaena will never see it fulfilled. But in this tragedy, the gods were kind to Aegon and Helaena and provided a new person to love, cherish, and join their family.

were you expecting a good old throuple situation? eh, eh (pretend i'm wiggling my eyebrows and nudging your side with my elbow). im just saying she's perfect for their little dysfunctional family and the drama it will create with the Hightowers and Targaryens? immaculate.

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept keyboard smashes, emojis, words of encouragement, praise, virtual hugs and gushing about hel and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

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avelera · 26 days ago

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Arcane's Jayce & Viktor: A Tech Industry Perspective

I've been wrestling with whether to make a short and sweet post about these points or to just have another long-winded meta and clearly since I'm incapable of being brief, I guess we'll just dive in.

I work in tech. What I see in this industry colors a lot of how I see Jayce and Viktor in Arcane. I'll try to be brief about a few of the things that stand out to me the most and that I think are intentional.

1 ) Jayce and Viktor are references to Alfred Nobel - This is a historical reference so direct I genuinely don't know how people grasp Jayce and Viktor's characters if you don't know about it.

Alfred Nobel is known for two things: inventing dynamite and bequeathing his subsequent fortune to founding the Nobel Peace Prize. These things are very much related.

Nobel was brilliant but socially naive. When he invented dynamite, he intended it to make life easier and safer for working in mines. Sound familiar? That is literally what the Atlas Gauntlets and Hex Claw Jayce and Viktor invented with Hextech was posed to be. It is a direct reference to Alfred Nobel and dynamite, there is no question about it in my mind whatsoever that they pose the benefit to society as specifically being useful to miners.

Nobel also believed that the awesome destructive power of dynamite would mean the end of warfare. Literally. He thought it was so disgusting and unthinkable that people would use explosives on each other that it would grind violence to a halt. He was very, very wrong about this. So wrong, in fact, that he spent the rest of his life in horror and remorse at how explosives were being used to kill people and created the Nobel Peace Prize to promote innovations aimed at peace, a prize which annually recognizes those who "conferred the greatest benefit to humankind".

Likewise with Jayce and Viktor, they are both horrified to imagine Hextech used for warfare and we think they're incredibly socially naive for thinking this, because they are. Maybe in another universe, there'd be the Talis Peace Prize to try to make up for what they unleashed on the world. Which brings me to my next point:

2 ) Jayce and Viktor have typical engineer blindspots to society's ills - As I've discussed in-depth in another meta, Jayce and Viktor both desperately needed some non-STEM or scientific classes in their life because their worldview is so naive and stunted as a result that it's the source of a dizzying number of their problems. Neither of them could even consider that Hextech, like dynamite, would be weaponized immediately. But they have other huge gaps too as a result of their narrow focus on science, and I do believe this is intentional by the writers as a commentary on engineers and tech people in general.

Short version, Jayce desperately needs some understanding of history and of rhetoric. When Ambessa asks him if his school teaches military history, he doesn't even know if they offer it. She was testing him with that question and as a canny manipulator and general, she clearly takes that to mean she can run circles around him, and she is right. Because with incredibly simplistic plays to his male ego, like calling his leadership "impotent", Ambessa immediately gets Jayce riled up and not thinking clearly. She blindfolds him, spins him around, and shoves him headlong into taking violent military action in exactly the direction she wanted him to go in to kick the nest and set off a war.

Jayce is also easily manipulated by Mel for more benevolent but still self-serving reasons with appeals to his life's work with flattery, his male ego with sex, and his dreams for a better world to make him fall quickly into step with the city's corruption with only a little nudging because he has no strong civic understanding of his own to fall back on. As Cait notes, he's never taken an interest in the Council or politics before until he becomes a Councilor himself.

Short version for Viktor, he wants to make the world a better place but he's never actually had to think through human nature before. He's literally never bothered. We know this because of his blindspot towards Hextech weaponry where he truly believed they could avoid it being used for warfare, and the fact that later in his cult, he's somehow shocked to learn that people will do bad things for the ones they love and won't just slice pieces of their own nature and personality off to fit into his little Utopian commune.

Literally cracking any kind of history or sociology book or heck, a Pratchett Discworld book, would have told him that there's a straight fucking line between deciding people are the problem when it comes to fixing society's ills and eugenics. He falls headlong into that trap and it requires his older, wiser self to beat him over the head with the truth of the horrors of his own simplistic worldview would lead to before he literally annihilates all life in his home city in his attempt to save it.

Which brings me to my next point:

3 ) Jayce and Viktor as oblivious tech nerds who have never cracked a book open but suddenly thinking that because they're great engineers, they have the solution to all of life's problems.

This is a somewhat shorter point, but I think in modern society we all know about the proverbial tech bro who keeps reinventing things like public transportation and taxes because they've never read a book in their life that doesn't have equations in it.

To be clear, they aren't bad people! I'd even hazard to say that young tech bros trying to make public good-based startups with a laughable lack of social awareness aren't bad people either! If anything, the education system has failed them, and they're pouring their intellect and earnest, human desire to help others into endeavors with the narrowest possible world perspective, which happens to be their field of expertise and thus it makes sense they'd see that as the greatest value that can offer, it's just too limited a view so they end up reinventing things that already exist or making worse, more dangerous versions of things that already exist. Tragically, their naive but well-meaning worldview often leads to:

4 ) Viktor and Jayce, but mostly Jayce, as tech bros being beholden to billionaire interests to make their dream come true:

Like Jayce, we see how these tech bros have their vision co-opted by people with a broader vision and understanding of the world, by billionaire investors who turn their inventions into making a quick buck for themselves, to warmongers and dictators who turn the creations of their mind into surveillance state horror stories. Some of that is a lack of wisdom on their parts when it comes to building in safeguards, sure, but part of that is there is a class divide too between the powerful and bright-eyed young inventors who just want to improve the world. As Singed notes, no one in power is ever innocent. And those in power have the capital to make a young inventor's dream come true and thus, tie them to their demands and interests. As Jayce said, they built the Hexgates, "Like [the Councilors] asked." Specifically this indicates that their vision has already been co-opted to serve financial interests. It also, again, makes it almost laughable how naive they are that they didn't realize warfare was next after trade.

Like many tech bros with billionaire investors, Jayce relied on the Kirammans, who were one of the wealthiest people in the city and literally on the Council that represents the State, and on Mel who is also part of the State, who is the wealthiest woman in Piltover, and who comes from a family of world-conquering warmongers, to make his dream come true from the very start.

From the beginning, Jayce was at a losing disadvantage when it came to keeping his dream ideologically pure and free of the influence of the wealthy and powerful.

And finally, just to point out that I'm not making this up, that these parallels are in fact intentional and built into the story:

4 ) Jayce and Viktor as parallels to Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak, founders of Apple. Christian Linke, co-creator of Arcane, specifically noted them as inspirations for Jayce and Viktor's relationship, with Jayce (Jobs) as the face of the company and Viktor (Woz) as the real brains behind the invention.

This caused a lot of sturm and drang on Twitter with people misinterpreting that he means Jayce isn't the actual inventor of Hextech, which I think is an overreaction. Jobs, unlike many tech bros who have earned society's ire lately like Musk, was actually an engineer too. It's completely common in tech spaces for partnerships to be made up of one partner who is able to handle being the public face of the company, and one introverted and socially awkward genius who prefers to sit in a dark room and actually tinker with the problem and who would literally rather set themselves on fire than talk to a non-technical human being. I know because I've been in such partnerships before myself as the public face.

Where Jayce and Viktor rather charmingly buck the stereotypes of that relationship and so in turn actually make it more like what I've seen in the real world, is the fact there isn't resentment between the two as a result. Viktor is glad that Jayce is willing to be the public face and doesn't want to get in the way. This is actually very common with the engineers I know! It's not seen as glory stealing, it's seen as sparing them awful, painful work they don't want to do, like networking.

Yes it means Jayce needs to sacrifice some time in the lab, but it's a simple division of labor that he's happy to do, especially if it frees Viktor from the responsibility so he can focus on what he loves, because Jayce loves him. And you'll note that Jayce is very above-board academically speaking on this front, he always cites Viktor as his partner and is scrupulous in giving Viktor credit, in conversation at least, even if he doesn't forcibly drag Viktor on stage to take credit there.

Anyway, when I write meta or even fic for these two, this sort of background is always on my mind, and I thought it might be valuable for others who maybe aren't as familiar with the tech space as I am.

#jayvik #arcane #arcane meta #jayce talis #viktor arcane #ambessa medarda #a tech perspective

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otkuhotgirl · 3 months ago

Text

─── 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 .

# with black-leg sanji and roronoa zoro.

you are unable to choose between the two men who had fallen in love with you. their solution presents itself in the form of sexual competition.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day eight. smut (mdni!). threesome. sensory deprivation. double penetration. anal. fingering (reader!receiving). blindfold. bdsm. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.5k

zoro and sanji were as similar to one another as the moon was to the sun; the tides were to the flames. one did not suppose there yet existed a single topic with which the pair could agree with. their fighting styles were nothing if not divergent. their taste in alcohol might as well have inspired the water-and-oil analogy. personalities; most favored tastes and colors; fashion sense — or the lack thereof, in zoro’s case; the conception of what was deemed attractive. the two were incapable of meeting a common ground, and those around them had all but quit to witness the instance in which they would share a similar opinion. when one was, too, to consider the amount of women sanji flirted with — the same ones zoro did not felt the urge to spare a miserable second-glance at — not a soul expected their lines to overlap in the romantic field.

which all but made their harbored feelings for you far more surprising. not to misplace the root to such astonishment, for you were neither unattractive nor dull. rather despairing to learn that the only subject of agreeableness between the two also happened to be the one they were willing to compete twice as much for.

whenever sanji strived to serve you heart-shaped pastries, zoro would attempt to counter-attack by lifting weights without a shirt on, in front of you. if you were to comment on a favorite color, sanji was soon to match his ties to it — whereas zoro was soon to throw them out when given the chance. the ensued chaos sure was the worst during re-stocking hours, for if you decided to stroll around the town, the two would bicker and follow. sanji would, naturally, have the upper hand throughout the initial hours — the swordsman had a broken compass for a center, and it was not hard to have him lost within the minute — however, for some obnoxious motive, zoro somewhat had never once failed to reencounter the pair of you, which meant that he would then glue to your side until the late hour of night, striving to make up for the lost time. those specific situations were so stressful on itself that you resorted to chopper to serve as company; the reindeer’s presence and excitement serving as brief reprieve from their constant bickering.

the two-year interval between the crew had been one of hope. distance sure would see fit to resolve the matters of your heart and ensue in a decision. zoro and sanji were prone to be at eternal odds, yet they were not disrespectful whatsoever. the non-chosen one would not hesitate to retreat if your love was to be poured into another. it would be a devastating vision, a never-ending pain and non-healing wound, yet one both were willing to withstand for the sake of your happiness.

the problem was that, as wonderful and selfless as that behavior sounded, you, in fact, had not been able to choose during the time apart. the longing proved itself to be equal, you did not miss one more than the other, so much as you did not prioritize your breathing over your heartbeat. both were important pieces that built themselves a solage in the fissure of your once maimed heart. sanji was warmth and professed love, external affection and sweet-coated sentences; the soothing embrace of spring with a trail of divergent petals. zoro was the mountain whose surface no force could maim. he was the much needed instance of shared silence in the aftermath of a tiring day, the reassurance of a lingering hand. love explicit through protection and care, the guarantee of a fierce guardian even in slumber.

zoro was the steel that sliced those who had dared to maim you, while sanji was the hand that patched your wounds. whereas sanji was the breeze to sway on your kite, zoro was the rock underneath to stop you from soaring far away. but you would never dare voice said thoughts, fearing the negative repercussions. regardless, the postponement in your decision all but started to cause unrecoverable commotion.

the separation led them both to overcompensate — and clash — in order to be given a fraction of your time. yet, surprisingly enough, the discussions weren’t the most obnoxious aspect, for the crew had grown accustomed to them. no. the unbearable lied on the sexual tension, almost palpable enough to be sliced and with its aftermath painful to those with ears. lustful glances shared and caught; zoro’s tendencies on leaving the crow’s nest door unlocked whenever he decided to masturbate; sanji’s barely contained moans when he bathed; your own restlessness and mood-shifts born from the unattended desire. characters such as franky and luffy, chopper and robin, had not a care in the world — the latter going as far as finding it amusing. usopp and nami, however, had enough, and were successful in their plan of setting the three of you in the sunny while the rest of the crew ventured through the newest found island. the ship was large enough for temporary avoidance, yet an eventual clash was inevitable, and the coward duo all but hoped that would serve as an enough motivator to resolve things.

unbeknownst to them, sanji and zoro had agreed on certain terms beforehand, sharing a thorough — oftentimes heated — discussion over relationship schedules and dynamics were you to agree with their solution. sharing altogether was not the sweetest fruit to the palate; yet, was the initial plan to fail, it’d have to be enough.

it started with sanji’s usual pampering. a dessert with a purposefully exacerbated amount of cream; a cold beverage served with a holed-straw, forcing the liquid to drip down your chin and covered breasts. when you retrieved from the deck in search of a change of clothes, zoro had been the one to cage you halfway, sweat-covered chest bumping into your sticky one — with sanji following thereafter, your back pressed against his front. their proposition was quite simple: a shared fuck with a blindfold, for without the aid of sight, you would be unable to assign faces to touches. that who pleased you more would be the chosen one; loser forced to retreat. it was a fair trade — and on god, you’d not be the one to complain.

they had argued; from which room to guide you, to which position would be the most suitable. zoro wanted to use his bandana, whereas sanji wanted to use one of his ties, meaning you ended up blindfolded and with your hands tied behind your back, bare and vulnerable; blind to the external world. although all was to be expected, considering the amount of repressed desire, you were surprised to learn that they planned on being agonizingly slow.

a gloved hand wrapped itself around your throat, for without the absence or presence of calluses, caught-on through touch, you would be unable to guess whose fingers were those. you were sat on a muscular lap — yet another no indicator, for neither lacked in that department. the pair seemed to agree on not speaking at all as well, but you were quite sure their identities would eventually be denounced by their grunts and moans.

the deprivation of sight had enhanced the rest of your senses. your hearing grew more attuned; your skin, twice as sensitive. the rough pattern of the glove left a trail of goosebumps in its wake, fingers guiding themselves down to your glistening core, dripping on the thigh underneath. the sudden contact with an ice cube had you gasping, your head resting on the shoulder of the unknown man. melting-cold water surrounded your pert nipples as that who lingered in front of you teased your breasts; the gloved finger drew languid circles on your clit, eliciting a sudden moan in response. you felt the stiffening of both figures, struggling to contain their reaction.

the man underneath had clenched the muscles of his thigh, gripping the flesh of your waist as the testing roll of your hips ignited your arousal, your cunt all but leaking at the stimulation. ice traveled from your chest to your belly button; above your ribs. your back arched at those mixed sensations, the coldness from above and the heat from below. your nipples were flicked, wet and freezing, before the buds were teased with the brief, tickling touch of a feather. the other shifted ever-so-slightly, the sudden movement causing his thigh to brush harder against your swollen clit; a lascivious moan clawing its way through your throat.

a hiss — zoro. a whimper — sanji. mingled and sudden sounds, hastily muted, with directions unknown. a sudden object, leather-made, was roughly wrapped around your thigh, tight enough to interrupt the blood influx altogether. somewhere, sanji choked, as if disapprovingly, yet the teasing hand lingered; the gloved finger toying with the straps. the fingers to your intimacy made their return, index and middle rubbing against your inner lips; tongue swirling around your earlobe, threatening to penetrate it, wet and loud sucking in pair with the sudden insertion of a finger in your throbbing cunt. you gasped, figure moving yet halting, for the belt constricting your thigh made it all far more painful. the sudden release of pressure had you mewling, all but for the bind to return, constricting the current of your own blood.

yet another ice cube drew patterns on one of your breasts, your nostrils catching on the aroma of a scented candle. the sound of a lighter; the sudden approach of heat. while a set of fingers busied themselves with press of melting ice on your flesh, teasing a hardened nipple with the freezing texture, the other part of your chest fell prey to a gentle rain of candle wax, heated and immediate, the sensation divergence enough to ensue a cascate of broken moans.

earmuffs had been placed, depriving you, too, of sound. the sudden jolt of a thigh had you bouncing; reacting due to mere instinct. when you whimpered, chasing the touch of the finger within your core; leg trembling due to the absence of blood influx, a choir of muffled and unrecognizable grunting and whimpering followed-in-suit. sharp canines dug on the juncture between neck and shoulder at the same time that a nipple was twisted by a foreign finger, coated in hot wax. goosebumps surged without second-thought; heavy breathing fanning above your ear.

the two men were mingling, a converging set in which you were to become the one caught in the middle. ice teased your parted lips, prying them open, the freezing water replaced with the warmth of another’s mouth; a sweet, brief, kiss, all but altered once you attempted to chase it. your lips were then stolen, steel-made grip maintained in your chin. the one underneath did not seem to like that in the slightest, for the pace of a swirling thumb around your clit made itself fast and demanding, your mewls swallowed by the other’s famished mouth — him, too, a moaning mess.

the gloved hand wrapped itself around a nipple, tugging at it before groping your breast. the kiss was broken then, a choir of unheard complaints falling from said man while your back was forced against the chest of the other; your cunt dripping and close to one’s erection. you tried grinding against it, yet the belt at your other thigh made each movement far more painful than it should have been. besides, it seemed as though zoro and sanji had agreed on which holes belonged to who beforehand, and the one underneath did not seem to have his cock meant to your pussy. instead, his mouth latched itself onto your neck, biting and sucking as he had your hips raised ever-so-slightly, allowing his tip to tease the folds of your ass. it traveled in between, coating the flesh with his pre-cum; briefly pressing itself against your entrance before immediate retreat.

you caught on a sudden shuffle, the pressure of the man standing vanishing all of the sudden. instead, he knelt in order to correct the angle of your figure on the other’s lap, his fingers trailing down your butthole. he collected your essence upon the fingering of your then neglected cunt, and the ice made its return; cold water mingled with heated pre-cum. he applied pressure on the tight entrance, his index sliding inside until the knuckle, pumping itself in-and-out, stretching your hole properly before the addition of his middle-finger. the man blew a gust of air against your clit, seeming to drown in your scent, yet not daring to dart his tongue and have a taste — as it seemed, the right to oral had not been a consensus. your butthole was scissored while the flesh of your shoulder was assaulted by bruising kisses, the gloved hand groping your right breast with maiming strength.

at last, yet another sudden shift had a tip pressed against the entrance where the other’s fingers were previously buried inside. the correction, too, had granted one the desired access to your dripping, throbbing cunt, his own tip teasing your folds. you trembled in anticipation, fingers struggling against the fabric of the tie that deprived you from reciprocating said touches.

a heartbeat of silence, all but too brief, before you were filled at once. the cock shoved inside your butthole was larger; the veins were more prominent. that, who stretched your cunt, was larger, the curved tip reaching a further length, finding your g-spot on its first attempt. you howlered, your throat burning at the expense of your sounds of pleasure. their paces were erratic; much too different for a common ground to be found. the one to fuck your ass was harsher; steadier. his balls were a constant against your flesh as he all but forced himself inside, his tongue and teeth licking and biting at whichever inch of bare skin he could find. that man had you stretched and vulnerable; aching and begging.

the one at your cunt was sloppier, far more desperate. he had parted your legs open, tore the belt off your thigh and threw it somewhere you could not see — the sudden absence of pressure all but enhancing the pleasure. the grip on your raised calves were what kept him tethered to that realm, his chest threatening to press itself against your own whenever his shaft was buried inside until the base. he was faster, too, and more eager. whereas the man at your butthole removed all but half of his member to shove yet again with devastating force, the pussy-drunk one retrieved himself entirely, until the tip threatened to spill off your entrance, before lunging his tip back into your g-spot.

it was overwhelming; maddening. it was the most pleasurable experience you had ever experienced. your words became babbles; saliva dripped down your chin at the failed attempts of letting them know you were close. it was unimportant whatsoever, for your high came as though a flood: abundant, never-stopping. you creamed the cock that remained deep inside your walls while the sound of your pleasure mingled with those from the men around you.

your cunt was vacant seconds thereafter, the tip of one’s shaft pressed against your abdomen as a stream of cum smeared your skin clear-white. the other kept plunging into you, the brief overstimulation causing you to squirm and whine before he, too, released himself — only that he had done so inside —, riding his own high and emptying the contents of his balls, the cum enough to slip past the folds of your ass and drip down his own thighs.

you fell limply on said man’s back, breathing heavily, your skin coated in sweat and cum; water and wax. the earmuffs slipped, and you had half-the-mind to decode the ongoing discussion at hand.

“YOU CAME INSIDE!”

“WELL, SHITTY-COOK, IF YOU WANTED IT AS WELL SO BADLY, YOU SHOULD’VE TAKEN DIBS ON THE ASS!”

“RELEASE HER, YOU BRUTE—”

well, at least that served you as a tool to assign faces to sensations.

— 🐈‍⬛ : late but never forgotten! if you’re here from the kinktober masterlist, wondering “where the fuck are the other days?!”, i feel the need to apologize yet again! i’m still a bit sick and hadn’t had the strength to re-read the previous stories, correct minor errors and post them in time. that being said, ace, kid and robin will be posted on the vacant, third week! super SUUUUUUPER sorry!

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bunny-jpeg · 6 months ago

Note

Omg I am GREEDY could I please request for max banana bread and a croissant with a side of coffee hard lemonade?! Just imagining max getting jealous with a rival Mercedes driver who is Toto’s daughter or something when he sees her flirting with someone else 😌😌😌 spicy please sir 🙏

the bakery menu

still many sweet treats on the menu and orders are still available! feel free to place an order! also to the anon who requested this, i love your beautiful mind for this! i was somewhat expecting someone to request the reader be either horner or toto's daughter, but combined with the other prompts, i rather enjoy your devilish mind! please enjoy!

in addition, this will probably be the largest bakery request, this sort of got away from me!

banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served to you by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, driver!max, rough sex, degrading language, rivals au, hate fucking, teasing, max & reader hate each other and their fathers, possessive behaviour/jealousy, mentions of marriage and kids

you were good, and that pissed max off. it wasn't because you were a woman, that didn't matter. anyone of any gender who was better than him left a chill down his back.

you were good, so therefore he had to be better.

"are you upset that you lost, princess."

the hateful nickname people gave you in formula one, you were the daughter of toto wolff and drove for the team he basically owned. your father was technically your boss and most thought that you were incapable of being good. that everything was handed to you by your father.

your jaw tensed, you were number two in the season. marginally behind max verstappen who was looking at you with a smugness.

"so what will be your reward, oh dear lord verstappen. how can i a humble peasant in the world of formula one be so thankful that you beat me." your tone was laced with poison.

"motor home at the end of the lot. the one right beside the one your father's team owns." he was almost cocky and it made you want to go at his throat.

but rules were rules and as much as you wanted to whip your helmet at him. this sick little cat and mouse would just have to continue, except this time max was the cat.

you were pressed up against the door of the motor-home hours later after interviews, max had you by the shoulders as he pulled you into a searing kiss. he had taken home the trophy and you were a seething little rabbit.

being rivals sometimes meant ending up in compromising positions. and you and max made quite a pair. you heard the conversations online about the idea of you two being a couple.

a few photos from your early days of racing had made the rounds off of a private facebook page that a former friend had and onto the likes of instagram and tiktok.

you thought that the photos were before the "arrangement" you had but you could see in the shit quality of the photo the prominent hicket on max's hip in one of the photos where he had his arms raised above his head and the t-shirt he wore had rolled up.

the most incriminating was one that was a tad blurrier than the others. it was you and max at a club somewhere in either mexico or brazil and max had his arm slung around you, and your nose was in the crook of his shoulder and you looked like you were half asleep. max looked drunk as hell. but it wasn't the position you were in, but rather the trail of deep red lipstick across his cheek and down his neck. you were both out of it, very drunk but it was obvious that you were kissing all over the other driver's neck. you tried to explain online that it was just a wicked bruise on his face! but when was the last time a bruise looked like lips?

if those were bad enough, if someone found the both of you in the position you were in now, the media would latch onto it for the next decade. until you two eventually got married and had the next heir to the verstappen racing legacy.

he pulled at your racing shirt, the logo of mercedes was starting to piss him off. he didn't want to see it stretched around your tits, he'd rather have the flesh in his lands and covering it in dark hickies.

his hat was on the ground soon after and you two kept a close distance as you made your way through the motor home, trailing clothes behind. until you got to the upstairs portion where if left you in just your mismatched socks and him in his tight briefs and red bull polo shirt.

"you look good."

"you act like you've never seen me naked before." you approached him and pressed yourself up against him and linked fingers with him, "we've been doing this since what, 2016?"

he looked down at you, "and yes you only get more beautiful, i keep wondering why you can never find a boyfriend. are they scared?"

you clenched his hand and said, "max verstappen, anytime a man with any kind of clout follows me on instagram, they always seem to unfollow me right after. i have my guesses on why that is happening, but i feel like you'd have a better idea." then flashed him a smile before you pushed him onto the bed.

max looked up and smiled at you. not the one who put on for the cameras, but rather a true genuine smile. he responded as he took his shirt off, "princess, i honestly don't know. could be your overbearing father for all you know. he would only want the best for you after all."

you straddled his clothed cock and placed your hands across his chest, "well, then i guess it wouldn't bother you if i said that two weekends ago i had a little post-race rendezvous with leclerc."

max's attention piqued. the green-eyed monster that lived in the driver reared its ugly head. he said, "you went somewhere with charles?"

you nodded and cupped his face. you smiled and replied, "oh yeah. nice big boat, lots of wine. he let me put the ferrari hat on when i rode him. but you're not bothered by that, right?"

max grabbed you by the back of the head and pulled you into a hot kiss. you could feel the tension in his body, the jealousy taking root. when you pulled away, he looked sternly into your eyes, he held your head and said, "you're a little liar. how would you father feel if he found out that you were a dirty fucking liar."

a sick little game. this what this all was. losing your career and favour with your father was not worth it, so the games continued until you both got bored. but it's been almost ten years and there was very little boredom.

"really, go ask him next time." you pushed further. you could feel his clothed erection up against your pussy. fucking freak.

max replied, "yeah, yeah. i'll ask him, and then i'll invite him over next time. he doesn't live that far away, princess. and i will show him how to actually fuck you. because i know if you did sleep with him, you were faking your orgasms."

you nodded a little and said, "yeah, verstappen. why don't we bring up the time you called me because you thought you got some girl in italy pregnant." you pressed your forehead against his. the sharp words were replaced with hot kisses.

max's briefs were soon off, followed by your socks. you two hated each other, it was a sickening affair. fueled by lust, hate and wanting some kind of release. you were your fathers' pet projects, a mutually assured destruction was the only way out of it. and it took the form and max's hands gripping your hips as he wrestled you onto your elbows and knees.

"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said, "maybe if you're lucky, it'll be your name in a few years." he rubbed his cock up against your slick pussy.

you wanted to reach behind you and hit him, but instead your muttered out, "yeah well your son will have the wolff last name then."

he yanked your hair and said, "not if i have anything to do about it. i'd rather our sons have strong a last name and good dutch first names." his voice was honey in your ear, you hated how that strong of words soaked your to your core. he chuckled in your ear as he slid in his cock into you. with both hands on your hips, "we can invite your father to our wedding, i think it would be a little rude for me not to. watch him hand over his only daughter."

"i'm going to kill you verstappen." you snapped and he pushed your face further into the bed. the light streamed through the large windows, asshole didn't even close the curtains. who knew what paparazzi was lingering around still.

"don't be mad, princess, it's not a bad thing that the only way you'll ever be close to the championship is to have my last name."

"i'm going to win this entire thing and i'm going to ruin you, max."

"not if i ruin you first." he rocked you against his cock. he hand you by the hips and drilled his cock into you.

you hated that you loved it, you hated how easily it was for him to get you into his bad. you hated that he was your biggest rival and the other fucker on the grid who could make you finish. you've heard the horror stories from former girlfriends.

max on the other hand took a sick pleasure in making your cum over and over and over again, until your voice was raw from the amount of times you said his name like worship.

you wanted him dead, but you also wanted him between your legs.

the sex between you two was hot, it was like touching a hot handle on the stove. you clawed at the soft white covers and let max thrust into you. you knew he was going to finish in you, after you told him you were on the pill, he took full advantage of that.

you thought it was a weird ownership over you. the thought of it made you frown against the covers. max kept you pinned as he fucked you.

the tumble of pleasure in the motor-home coursed through you. you felt hot all over, his breath in your ear and the weight of him on top of you. he kept you pinned between him and the bed.

"you're a sick fuck, verstappen."

"not as much as you, wolff." he said between heavy pants.

you had trained each other for sex to be a quick thing in stranger areas. there was no time for passion and romance. you rubbed your forehead against the covers and panted heavily. you felt close to your orgasm with your heart hammering.

"i'm gonna cum." you panted, you arched your back and looked up at him. he leaned over you for a hot kiss on your lips, his pace became more sporadic, and with that it sent you over the edge.

he broke the kiss and gave it a few more hearty thrusts before he finished inside of you. orgasm gripped him tightly and he let out a hard pant as he came to a stop.

"fuck."

"shit."

"max."

"i know."

he kept one of his large hands on your lower back as you panted heavily against the bed. you reached for him and ended up tucked into his side. he held you, it was almost tender.

"verstappen."

"wolff."

it felt good being next to him, even if he was your rival. while the sex was amazing, you knew that there would be a part two to his reward for beating you.

but for a moment you let yourself come down from the intense high of climax, slightly pissed that max verstappen was the one who was able to make you feel good.

fuckin' asshole.

"this is stupid, max." you said as you tried to adjust the shirt on your body. it was a little too big, but it would stroke max's ego.

max was seated at the edge of the bed, the shirt you were wearing was once on him. he said to you with a smile, "i think that you look rather good. i think you'd be better on red bull's team."

you looked over your shoulder, "or i could make you come to mercedes? we'd know how to take care of you." you giggled before you went over to him.

the shirt on you was one of many red bull polos that max owned, it was what he wanted on top of having sex with you. you got in his lap and spread your hands across his bare chest.

"i guess i can live with wearing these terrible colours, once." you tapped him on the nose and added, "but don't get used to it, verstappen. i'll make sure to get you a pretty thong with the mercedes logo on it when i win."

he took you by the back of the neck and pulled you into a searing kiss and said, "right, right. maybe next time i win, you can go to the paddock with my cock on your breath and the red bull logo across those pretty tits of yours." he held you closer and licked his lips, "now, schat. i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you cupped his face and said, "you have twenty minutes verstappen, either you get another orgasm out of me or i'm leaving."

he laughed and cupped your breasts through your shirt. he said ina voice so painfully sweet, "of course, ms. wolff, would hate to get the best driver in all of mercedes waiting. i know you're all an impatient bunch." then was pulled into a hot kiss before you two ended up back fully on the bed. <3

#bunny writes #the bakery #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #f1 smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max smut

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fear-is-truth · 26 days ago

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how do you think patrick will react when you try to break things off with him?

breaking up with patrick bateman .ᐟ.ᐟ

tw ; mentions of drug use, homicide

a/n: apologies for the word salad.. my brain is kinda fried from my classes. also he’s such a pretty crier

𝜗ϱ ┆ denial & gaslighting

his immediate reaction would likely be disbelief. the idea of someone rejecting him, particularly someone he views as an extension of his life, would be incomprehensible to him. this disbelief would manifest as condescension and dismissal, accompanied by gaslighting.

“you’re leaving me?” he’d say with a strained smile, eyes narrowing to slits. “that’s ridiculous. you don’t mean that.”

patrick wouldn’t process the emotional weight of your decision, instead assuming that you’re acting irrationally or that something external has influenced you. his need to maintain control would drive him to undermine your perspective, likely accusing you of being under the influence of drugs.

“have you been doing too much cocaine? or maybe those diet pills? you’re not thinking clearly, darling.”

this gaslighting would be less about convincing you and more about reinforcing his own denial. patrick lives in a world where his perception is reality, and your decision to leave disrupts that. denial is his first line of defense.

𝜗ϱ ┆ manipulation & desperation

as the conversation continues, patrick would pivot to emotional manipulation. while he lacks true empathy, he is an expert at imitating emotional responses to “fit in”. he’d beg you to reconsider, framing his argument that appeals to your sense of loyalty or guilt.

“think about everything i’ve done for you. everything we’ve had together. you can’t just walk away.”

if manipulation doesn’t work, his desperation would become more overt. while patrick is typically composed, cracks in his facade could begin to show. you might see a flash of raw panic in his eyes.

“you don’t know what you’re doing. you’re making a mistake.”

𝜗ϱ ┆ begging

patrick would eventually resort to begging, and this is where the irony comes in—remember the time he dumped evelyn with an air of theatrical superiority, telling her that she’s “simply not terribly important” to him.

“you can’t do this to me. please, don’t go. we can work this out—whatever this is, we can fix it. i’ll change.”

of course, he is incapable of real change, and his promises would ring hollow. but the desperation in his voice would feel oddly genuine.

𝜗ϱ ┆“i need to return some videotapes.”

when it becomes clear that he can’t sway you, patrick would retreat, unwilling to let you witness the full extent of his unraveling. maintaining appearances is critical, even in moments of personal crisis. with a curt, almost robotic tone, he’d excuse himself with his signature non sequitur:

“i need to return some videotapes.”

this statement, bizarre and out of place, serves two purposes. first, it allows him to escape the confrontation without completely breaking down in front of you. second, it reaffirms his facade of control.

𝜗ϱ ┆ private despair

once alone, patrick would no longer be able to hold himself together. the breakup would be a complete fracturing of his identity. while he outwardly projects confidence, his inner world is fragile and deeply insecure. your rejection would strip away the validation he relies on to maintain his ego. he’d cry—silent, bitter tears of frustration and humiliation.

𝜗ϱ ┆ homicide as a coping mechanism

but patrick is incapable of processing emotions in a healthy way, so the tears wouldn’t lead to introspection or change. instead, they’d fuel a darker spiral—he’d channel his feelings of loss into compulsive, destructive behaviour. violence is often an outlet for him, and your departure could serve as a catalyst for a spree of homicidal acts. (e.g killing homeless people)

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x you #patrick bateman fanfic #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o #slasher fanfic #slasher fanfiction #christian bale x reader

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kiwi-on-ice · 3 months ago

Text

Favourite pictures of you headcannons with Ashe, Moira, Ramattra, and Lifeweaver with fem!reader

Word count: 700

Warnings: mixture of nsfw and fluff, mentions of sextapes

Notes: Surprise! A small little treat before kinktober arrives and you all get sick of me posting.

Ashe:

Lets get the horny thoughts out the way, she definitely has a few pictures of you that she keeps in the private folder of her phone.

Her favourite being a photo of you on your back against the silk sheets, hair messy and slightly sticking to your forehead. Your lingerie is half torn, bra pulled hastily down so your tits are spilling out, inner thighs parted and glistening with your arousal. But what Ashe loves the most; the red lipstick marks scattered all over your skin, painting you in beautiful salacious brushstrokes.

But she has more sfw ones too. Taped to her new motorcycle was a picture of you both, a candid shot from a bar when deadlock were celebrating a heist. Her arm was around your waist, keeping you pressed against her side. She was giving a smile to the camera, red lips illuminated, but you. Your eyes were firmly on her, gazing at her with such adoration, it gives her a fuzzy feeling in her chest whenever she sees it.

Moira:

she doesn't have a lot of photos period, she finds it unnecessary, society’s need to document everything. So the photos she does have are deemed important for her to keep.

Moira has exactly one photo of you in her lab, framed and away from any chemicals or corrosive materials. It's of the two of you at a scientific gala, her wearing a crisp suit and you wearing a form fitting dress that matched her. You’re holding on to her arm, nails gently pressing into the material of her sleeve, and she loves how relaxed your body looks against her.

You're the one who has more pictures, candids of her while she works. But when you introduced her to your polaroid camera, she's curious.

That's how she ends up with her other favourite picture, tucked away in her wallet. A polaroid of you on your back, her hand wrapped around your throat. Your neck and collarbones are littered with marks and bites, but its your eyes she loves. Despite her choking you, holding your life in her hand, your eyes are bright and excited as you gaze up past the polaroid at her.

Ramattra:

Omnics have photographic memories, incapable of forgetting something they've processed. Because of this, initially he makes fun of you humans and your petty memory cortexes, needing a physical copy to remember in detail.

It's only when you attempt to explain it, that it's not about forgetting but about remembering, of reminiscing, of the feeling the photo gives you, that he starts to understand just a little.

He demands to see your phone, to look at the many pictures you have of eachother, but one photo caught his eye. It's of you on his lap, or more specifically his thigh. The angle of the selfie only serves to exemplify the size difference, making you look so small and puny.

Printing it off, he keeps a small version of it on him at all times, gazing at it when he's alone.

Lifeweaver:

Oh this man is always taking pictures of you. Always.

His phone is always pointed at you, taking snaps of you, posed or candid. Now don't get me wrong, he's always taking pictures when you're dolled up for a date, capturing you in the best lighting to accentuate your dress and makeup. But he especially loves taking pictures of you in your pyjamas, sweatpants and a loose shirt, his hoodie underneath your messy hair. Anytime you look casual, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman on the planet.

His personal favourite of these is you watering a lily he'd bought you, wearing his hoodie that reached the middle of your thighs.

And when he actually bought a proper camera? The reels were just completely you (and the occasional flowers he likes to grow).

But god if you'd let him, he'd 100% be into recording a sextape. He just thinks you're so gorgeous, why would he not want to replay how you look in ecstasy over and over again.

Although his favourite is a teasing selfie you took while he was fucking you from behind. His hands are grasping at your tits, while you're giving a cheeky smile to the camera. He loves it so much he'd have it as is lock-screen if society didn't deem it so inappropriate.

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kunikuyu · 10 months ago

Text

Until he gets tired.

Heian Era! Ryomen Sukuna x Male! Reader

Warnings: 🕊️ DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. Dom! sukuna, sub! reader. reader is simply crazy. Size kink, cut play, mention of the term 'sex slave', dub-con, sex even when passed out, bulge in the belly, begging, abusive relationship, words written intentionally wrong, sukuna has two dicks, fainting, monster romance (for obvious reasons). DNI MINORS.

Summary: Being Sukuna's partner is something completely insane. Aside from the fact that Sukuna is incapable of loving anyone, he seems to take a twisted pleasure in hurting his partners. Every night, [Name] knows that the next day, he will wake up completely destroyed.

The climate was pleasant. Not too cold, not too hot, a gentle breeze blew through the walls and windows of Sukuna's temple. But what made everything scary and strange were the screams that came from inside.

Today was a special day. [Name] and Sukuna, the king of curses, had completed a hundred years together, as partners. Normally no one would celebrate this, since... Who would want to stand next to Sukuna? No one would be crazy enough to do that.

But, [Name] is.

"Uhm~ 'Kuna..."

The ancient sorcerer purrs. [Name] was sitting in the lap of the curse, skin completely exposed for anyone to see, but protected so no one can touch. And of course no one would touch, who would even dare to come close to the one who is so 'well taken care of' by Ryomen Sukuna. His chest was already completely red and full of small cuts, which were leaking almost invisible drops of blood. He didn't even know how he managed to stay awake anymore, it seemed simply impossible not to pass out there. Not because of the small and insignificant loss of blood, but rather for the pain in his lower parts.

[Name] couldn't move, couldn't even dare breathe wrong, if he didn't want to get slapped in the face. It seemed like an impossible task, and it really was, since Sukuna's dick wasn't just anything, or just an organ. It was big, ridiculously big, it seemed like a joke to imagine that it could fit on someone. So much so that only the cockhead managed to enter the sorcerer's body.

But Sukuna didn't care at all, of course not. He smiled when he saw his flushed face, expressing pain and clearly distorted pleasure. And instead of helping, he only makes the situation worse, squeezing hard around [Name]'s entire length so that he's unable to cum. This felt more like a punishment than a reward for staying by his side for so long.

"Such a dirty little whore... Are you that used to it? Don't you even scream in desperation for me to get out of you? I don't know if I find this interesting or pathetic." He says, with his typical arrogant and self-centered tone.

Deciding that he would take things more seriously, the King of Curses pulls [Name]'s hands close enough to him, so that the younger man is completely lying on top of Sukuna, being the perfect target for the all-out aggression the older man has in mind. He liked seeing his partner like this, but he much preferred seeing him screaming and crying because he couldn't handle his dick.

[Name] lets out a howl of pain as his severed chest is thrown hard against Sukuna's chest. It was like a thousand needles going into his skin because of the small cuts located in the area, but he still managed to find pleasure in the pain.

"Sukuna...! That hurts...!"

"I know."

Suddenly, agonizing screams of pain can be heard from far away. The screams were definitely from [Name], who was now being fucked mercilessly. He drooled against the other man's shoulder while still going through the trouble of jerking off his other cock. It was always so painful, the older man's balls aggressively slapped his ass, while his dick reached the deepest layer of his body, crushing his prostate with ease.

"Stop, please!~ Sho painf- ah!"

He doesn't even have time to complain before another of Sukuna's tricks is revealed. The two bodies completely glued together served so that the mouth on the monster-man's stomach could willingly take in [Name]'s red and swollen cock. He doesn't even know what to feel. It hurts, but he's about to cum!

And...

...To faint...

This lasts all night, and several times, [Name] even faints. It didn't end until Sukuna got tired, and he could never easily get tired of his beloved sex slave. When [Name] wakes up in the morning, a small pool of blood was formed on his bed, and next to the bed, a calm and silent Sukuna was cleaning his own body, which was dirty with fluids from both of them. When looking at his body, the sorcerer realizes that his chest was no longer the only thing that was bleeding, but his entire body. His belly was even full, certainly from Sukuna's loads of cum, which were clearly not few. He can barely stay awake for long before passing out again from exhaustion and blood loss.

#male reader #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #jjk #dead dove do not eat

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ikkyfics · 13 days ago

Text

Between Us

Dave Lizewski x reader x Todd Haynes

Summary: “I… I can’t choose.” “But… what does that mean?” he asked, leaning forward a little without even realizing it. “I mean…” You stopped, searching for the right words, even though your mind seemed unable to process anything beyond their proximity. “I mean I like both of you. In different ways, maybe, but… I can’t imagine choosing just one.”

Warnings: explicit language, mention of jealousy, mention of possession, multiple kisses, unconventional relationship dynamics, provocative language, light smut, sexual tension

A/N: I would be mentally, physically and emotionally incapable of choosing just one

my beloved @gingerteafairy, thank you for our conversations - seriously, girl, I love you <333

Masterlist

The evening was supposed to be relaxed, but Marty’s absence changed the tone of everything. You, Dave, and Todd were inseparable, and Marty, with his easygoing and carefree manner, always served as a kind of natural mediator for the other two. But now, as you walked towards Todd’s house, it was impossible to ignore the nervousness that was growing in your chest. Without Marty there to cushion the interactions, it would be just you in the middle of Dave and Todd—the two so different, yet equally irresistible. The thought already made the butterflies in your stomach dance.

The couch seemed even smaller than usual. You were squeezed between them, feeling the heat of their bodies so close. To your left, Dave, with his dark curls and blue eyes shining behind his glasses, held the bowl of popcorn with both hands, his fingers brushing against your arm with every movement. To the right, Todd, all relaxed with his messy brown hair and dimples marking his smile as he leaned casually on the couch, his knee almost touching your leg. There seemed to be not enough space for everyone, and the proximity created a palpable tension.

"Okay, let's settle this once and for all: better mentor—Batman or Superman?" Todd asked, with that challenging tone and a smile that seemed to carry a hint of provocation.

"Batman, for sure," Dave answered without hesitation, adjusting his glasses. He turned slightly towards you, as if seeking support in your answer. "He's a strategist, he has resources, he trains people. He doesn't rely on powers. It's about discipline, sacrifice."

Todd laughed, leaning forward and bringing his face even closer to yours. "Oh, right, because being a traumatized millionaire is super inspiring," he said mockingly, and the glint in his dark eyes was almost hypnotizing. "Superman, without a doubt. He's genuine, he really cares about people, and he doesn't need all that paraphernalia to be amazing."

You tried to focus on the discussion, but it was hard when the two seemed to be fighting for your attention with every sentence. Dave's gaze was steady and almost intense, while Todd's had that easygoing charm that made your heart race.

"I… I think they both have valid points," you said, trying to sound neutral, but the hesitation in your voice betrayed your nervousness.

"Oh, there's no point in avoiding the issue," Todd teased, smiling as he lightly patted your leg, his hand staying there a second longer than necessary. "C'mon, you know you're Superman."

"Don't let that get to you," Dave intervened, his voice calm but filled with a seriousness that made you stare at him for a moment. "Think about what really makes sense. It's not just about sympathy."

You tried to laugh to lighten the mood, but your mind was elsewhere. The proximity of the two of them, the looks, the small touches… It was as if each gesture was loaded with a tension that you didn't know how to deal with. For a moment, you let yourself be carried away by your daydreams — Dave holding your hand sweetly, his eyes shining behind his glasses as he whispered something that only you could hear. Or Todd, with that carefree smile, leaning his forehead against yours and making you laugh at something silly before losing yourself in his warm gaze.

The sound of the movie brought you back to reality, and your face heated up as you realized the direction your thoughts had taken. You quickly looked away to the TV, but not before noticing that Dave was watching you attentively, as if trying to decipher what you were thinking.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice low and full of concern as he leaned in slightly.

"Yeah, sure," you answered hastily, but you felt Todd chuckle softly beside you.

"Yeah, but now you're blushing," Todd commented, his dimples showing off his smile. "Or did Batman make you like that?"

"It's nothing," you repeated, trying to sound more convincing, but it was useless. The tension in the air felt palpable, and Dave and Todd's close proximity made your mind race in all the wrong directions—or maybe right, depending on how you looked at it. Dave's arm behind you was a constant warm presence, and his fingers always seemed on the verge of brushing the back of your neck, sending subtle shivers that you pretended to ignore. On the other side, Todd maintained his relaxed posture, but his knee pressed lightly against your leg said something else, a small gesture that seemed much bigger in this context.

“Relax, we’re just teasing you,” Todd said, an easy smile on his lips as he reached out to grab a handful of popcorn. The movement brought your shoulder up against his, and the warmth of the contact made you hold your breath for a moment. He seemed to notice, and he glanced at you sideways, somewhere between amused and… attentive.

“It’s no big deal, you know,” Dave added, his voice a little softer. “You might like Superman better. But then… you’d be wrong.” He laughed lightly, and the sound made something in your chest tighten. He had that shy, awkward way about him, but when he spoke with confidence, it was impossible not to notice. He adjusted his glasses quickly, his eyes fixed on the screen for a few seconds before shifting to you.

You tried to focus on the movie, but his every move seemed amplified. The way Dave shifted his weight from side to side, his knee pressing into the couch and leaning slightly toward your side, or the way Todd casually rested his arm on the side of your leg, his fingers almost touching your bare thigh. It was all more intense than it should have been.

When you shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, you ended up relaxing a little and leaning back, letting your shoulders lightly brush against theirs. The closeness was inevitable, but now you could no longer ignore the way their bodies felt so close, so warm. You tried to rationalize it—they were your friends, it was just the tight couch, nothing major. But your heart had another opinion, beating faster with each small movement they made.

Todd leaned forward to reach for the remote on the coffee table, and the movement caused his arm to brush against yours with a gentleness too deliberate to be accidental. "I think the next movie has a really clichéd kissing scene," he commented casually, but there was a hint of teasing in his tone that made your skin crawl.

Dave looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously? What movie doesn't have a kissing scene?" He tried to sound nonchalant, but there was a subtle stiffness in his posture that didn't go unnoticed.

"Oh, I don't know," Todd replied, shrugging with that annoyingly charming smile. "Some people like that kind of thing. I can tell who." His gaze met yours for a moment, and you felt your face heat up, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to divert attention from yourself. "Oh, please, that's like… mandatory in any movie," you muttered, feeling the weight of both their gazes on you.

When the fateful scene finally arrived, you held your breath. On the screen, the characters exchanged intense glances before kissing, and the mood in the room seemed to change instantly. The silence that followed was so heavy that you could swear you could hear the sound of hearts beating—including your own. Todd and Dave’s gazes were fixed on the screen, but you knew they were aware of the tension, too. How could they not be? The room felt smaller, the couch tighter, and the air heavier.

Without thinking, you shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure of the moment, but ended up pushing your knee against Todd’s, who glanced at you quickly, a smile on the corner of his lips. “Enjoyed the scene, huh?” he teased, but his voice was huskier than usual.

“It’s just… well done,” you replied, swallowing hard.

Dave shifted beside you, adjusting his glasses again, his dark curls falling over his forehead as he looked down at you. “Clichés can be good sometimes,” he said, his voice low but filled with something that seemed deeper. “It depends on how they’re done.”

The silence between you felt alive, almost pulsing, as the movie scene played out, but no one was really paying attention. Your heart was pounding, and you knew it wasn’t because of the dramatic soundtrack on the screen. Every movement they made around you seemed choreographed to move you. The light brush of Todd’s arm against yours, the almost casual adjustment of Dave’s body to your side—it all felt calculated, even though you knew it probably wasn’t. Or was it?

“So…” Todd broke the silence, his tone playful but with something more underlying. He looked at you, his dark eyes shining with that carefree charm that seemed so natural to him. “If that were you on screen, who would you kiss?”

You nearly choked on the popcorn you weren’t even eating. “What?” Your nervous laugh came out more like a sob, and you tried to look away, but his face was so close, and Dave’s expression on the other side was just as intriguing.

“Between the two of us,” Todd continued, shifting slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees, the closeness creating a tension that was impossible to ignore. “Who would you kiss?”

Dave shifted beside you, clearing his throat. “Seriously, man? What kind of question is that?” He tried to sound casual, but there was something in his voice, something that gave him away. He looked at you with those clear blue eyes, like he wanted you to say something—or maybe say nothing at all.

“Oh, come on,” Todd insisted, his smile growing, but his eyes fixed on you with intensity. “It’s just a question. Friendly. We’re friends, right?”

You laughed again nervously, your hand automatically going to your hair as you tried to stall for time. “I… don’t know. That’s… weird.” But your mind was far from neutral. The idea of kissing either of them—both of them, if you were being honest with yourself—was something you had definitely considered, even if it was just a passing thought. Or not so passing.

Todd chuckled softly, but this time it sounded softer, almost like he was challenging you. “Okay, let’s make this easier. Have you ever kissed anyone?”

The question took you by surprise, and it took you a second to answer. “I have… I mean, yes. Once or twice.” Your voice came out lower than you intended, and you felt heat rise up your neck.

“Me too,” Todd replied casually, leaning back and resting his head on the couch again. “Nothing too serious, you know? Just… experimenting.”

Dave was silent for a moment, and you could tell he was nervous. His curls looked messier than usual, and he fidgeted with his glasses before speaking. "I… never, actually. Not really, anyway."

The room grew even quieter, if that was possible. Without realizing it, your eyes drifted to his lips, pink and soft, achingly inviting. He tried to hide it with an awkward shrug, his cheeks flushing as he caught your gaze. "It's never happened. Not with anyone who… mattered."

"Wait," you began before you could stop yourself, your voice sounding louder than you intended. "Never? Really?"

He nodded, and there was something so honest, so vulnerable in his expression, that it made your heart clench. You felt the words slip out before you could process them. "I could… you know. I could be your first kiss."

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Dave looked at you as if he wasn't sure he'd heard you right, his lips parted in surprise, and Todd, on the other side, sat up straighter, his smile fading for a moment.

"Would you do that?" Dave asked, his voice lower, almost hesitant.

“Sure,” you replied, trying to sound casual but feeling the words tremble on your lips. “That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”

The silence after Dave’s confession felt almost tangible, so thick you could feel it in the air around you. Todd broke the tension with a soft laugh, but unlike any previous teasing, there was no cynicism there. It was almost… curious, as if he was genuinely interested in what was coming next.

“So you’re really going to kiss him?” he asked, his eyes fixed on you, filled with something that made your breath catch. It wasn’t just curiosity; it was intensity, desire. He was watching your every move, as if he wished he were in Dave’s place.

Your face burned, and you looked away, only to be met with the restless blue of Dave’s eyes. He looked just as nervous as you, but there was something else there too: anticipation. And maybe a little newfound courage.

“If he wants to…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible, biting your lip in anticipation.

“I want to,” Dave replied immediately, surprising even himself. He took off his glasses, tossing them on the coffee table, a gesture that should have seemed awkward but only made your heart race even more. “I mean, if you want to too.”

You nodded, almost mechanically, and then came the moment of truth. The two of you began to shift, trying to adjust yourselves on the tiny couch. Todd’s arm brushed against yours as he leaned in slightly, clearly not wanting to miss anything. Knowing he would watch this made your heart skip a beat.

“Let me give you some space,” Todd said, his voice low but still filled with that intense curiosity. He leaned back, his eyes never leaving you. You felt every inch of the couch, every brush of fabric, every ragged breath.

Dave turned his body toward you, and you did the same, your knees almost touching. Your hands were shaking a little, so you rested them on the couch to hide it. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop.

You were the one who moved first, your fingers gently cupping his cheek as you moved even closer, until there was no space between you.

The first touch of his lips was shy, hesitant. You felt his softness and caution, and your heart skipped a beat. You pressed your lips more firmly against his, your tongue asking for entry to venture into his mouth. Dave seemed to relax, leaning in more, returning the kiss with a confidence you never imagined he had.

You sighed against his lips, the world around you disappearing as he held your waist firmly, pulling you closer. Your hands found his shoulders, and suddenly you were on his lap, without even realizing how it had happened. The kiss was no longer shy. It was intense, almost desperate, as if you had both been waiting for this moment without knowing it.

You moaned against his mouth as you felt his hands grip your ass, pressing you tighter against him. Shit, how could he say he’d never kissed anyone? Your fingers quickly found his curls, tugging at them until you heard a scratchy noise in his throat.

You could barely think, barely breathe, but none of that mattered. You lost yourself in the warmth of his body, in the way he seemed to hold you like he’d never let you go.

A soft sound made you open your eyes suddenly, and there was Todd, clearing his throat slightly. You pulled away from Dave, both of you still breathing heavily, and looked at Todd. He was leaning forward again, his dark eyes fixed on you, shining with something that seemed like a mix of teasing and pent-up desire. You felt overly aware of your own body, your face hot as you realized Dave’s hands were still on your ass, but you did nothing to push them away.

“So,” Todd began, his tone light but with a hint of something that made your stomach churn, he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "If you had to choose, I think Dave would be your choice, don't you?"

You remained in Dave’s lap, the feel of his hands around you almost comforting. But Todd’s words made your heart beat faster in a different way. You looked up at him, your lips still tingling from the kiss, and spoke before you could stop yourself.

“I’d kiss you too,” you said, your voice low but clear. “If you just asked.”

Todd’s eyes darkened immediately, and you saw a slow smile form on his lips, revealing those adorable dimples that always got to you. Dave was silent, but you could feel the tension in his body, as if he was processing what he had just heard.

Todd kept his gaze fixed on you, his expression filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. He tilted his head slightly to the side, as if trying to comprehend what you had just said. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice deep and lower than usual, filled with a tension that you could feel in the air.

Your heart felt like it wanted to escape your chest, but you held his gaze, even as your cheeks burned with embarrassment and anticipation. You nodded, almost imperceptibly, before blurting out, in a whisper that seemed too loud in the silence, “Ask.”

The word hung between you like a challenge, like something you couldn’t take back. Todd chuckled softly, a deep sound that reverberated through the cramped couch. “Okay,” he said, leaning forward a little. “Then kiss me.”

Your stomach knotted with anxiety and excitement as you slid off Dave’s lap, feeling slight tremors in your legs. Todd’s eyes were fixed on you, following every movement as if he were under a spell. Dave, on the other side, remained silent, but the weight of his gaze was almost tangible.

When you were finally in front of Todd, kneeling on the couch, he gripped your waist firmly, pulling you onto his lap with an ease that made your heart race. Unlike Dave, Todd didn’t hesitate. He held you as if he already knew exactly what he wanted to do, and the first touch of his lips was intense.

You sighed, still tasting Dave in your mouth as Todd kissed you. His hands quickly moved down to your hips, adjusting you on his lap until you were straddling him.

You could hardly believe what was happening. Todd’s grip was different—firmer, more possessive. His hands slid around your waist, holding you with a confidence that made your entire body respond, as if you were made to be there.

The kiss was deep, almost desperate, and the world around you disappeared in a blur. You felt the heat of his body, the way he tilted his head to intensify the contact, the way he made you writhe on his lap.

His hand slid around your waist, without hesitation before squeezing your breast. Your thin bra offered no resistance against the heat of his fingers. “Todd,” you whimpered, feeling something flare inside you when he grunted his approval.

Your mind was spinning, torn between the intensity of the moment and the disbelief that this was actually happening.

When you opened your eyes for a moment, trying to catch your breath, you saw Dave watching you. He was fascinated, his lips slightly parted. His expression was a mix of surprise and… something else.

You didn’t have much time to process. Todd took advantage of the moment to slide his other hand to your hip, pulling you even closer. You didn’t protest, returning to the kiss with redoubled intensity, your hips moving against his every now and then unconsciously. The kiss didn’t have the same softness as Dave’s. It was intense, almost rough, but in a way that made you lose yourself completely.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. All you knew was that when you finally pulled away, the silence seemed even more deafening. Todd’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his dark eyes fixed on hers, as if trying to read every thought that passed through her mind.

And then came Dave’s voice, breaking the spell. “So… him too, huh?”

You blinked, your lips still tingling from the kiss, and turned to face Dave. He didn’t look angry or hurt, but the intensity in his gaze was hard to ignore. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come out. Todd chuckled again, sliding his hands to rest on your waist.

“Let her breathe, Dave,” he said, his tone casual but still filled with something that made your skin crawl.

The silence in the room was so thick it felt like a physical presence. You could feel the heat of Todd’s hands still resting on your waist, and at the same time, Dave’s gaze burning into you. You didn’t dare look directly at him; you knew your mind was already a mess and that staring into those vibrant blue eyes would only make things worse.

Todd, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed, but the tension in his shoulders gave away that he was just as affected as you were. The way he held you, as if he was trying to memorize the moment, made your heart beat even faster.

Dave was the first to break the silence. “So… you really don’t have a favorite?” His voice was low, almost hesitant, as if he were treading unfamiliar territory.

You felt your face heat up even more. It was almost impossible to believe you were having this conversation, but after what had just happened, pretending nothing had changed seemed ridiculous.

“I… I can’t choose.” The confession came out in a whisper, and you almost wished you could swallow the words back. But it was the truth. “It’s impossible.”

Todd arched an eyebrow, a slow smile forming on his lips. “Impossible, huh?” He seemed to be enjoying seeing you so nervous, but his eyes didn’t give a lie. There was something else there, something deeper that he wasn’t willing to hide.

Dave, on the other hand, looked conflicted. He shifted on the couch, as if trying to find a comfortable position—and failing miserably. “But… what does that mean?” he asked, leaning forward a little without even realizing it.

His approach didn’t go unnoticed. You felt the space between the three of you shrink even further, the heat from your bodies almost suffocating. Todd seemed to notice it too, but he didn’t say anything, just kept his hands firmly on you, as if he was marking his territory.

“I mean…” You stopped, searching for the right words, even though your mind seemed unable to process anything beyond their proximity. “I mean I like both of you. In different ways, maybe, but… I can’t imagine choosing just one.”

The admission hung in the air like a bomb about to explode. Dave opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your throat dry.

Todd, however, laughed softly, the sound making your skin crawl. “So you’re saying we both have a chance?” He tilted his head to the side, as if challenging you.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I just know I like you. Both of you. And it confuses me, because… because I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Dave finally spoke, his voice firmer this time. “What if you didn’t have to choose?”

Your heart almost stopped. What did he mean by that? The look in his eyes left no doubt: he was serious. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your chest hurt, but also something that seemed determined, like he had already accepted the idea before you had.

Todd let out a short laugh, but it didn’t seem like he was mocking. He looked at Dave, then back at you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “That sounds like an interesting idea.”

You felt the air leave your lungs in a shaky breath. The couch felt even smaller, their bodies pressed against yours, each movement sending shocks through your body.

Dave, without realizing it, had moved even closer, until he was right next to Todd. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before landing softly on your leg, tracing lazy half circles on your thigh that made your skin crawl.

“Are you serious?” you asked, your voice thick with nervousness and disbelief.

Dave nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah. Maybe… maybe we don’t have to do this the traditional way.”

The intensity of the moment seemed to overwhelm every one of your senses. The heat of Todd’s body pressed against yours, his hands firm on your waist, and Dave’s gaze burning into your face were almost too much to bear. And yet, there was something incredibly addictive about the charged atmosphere, as if you had fallen into a fever dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

Dave seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of nervousness and determination. But you couldn’t wait any longer. Before you could regret it, you leaned toward him, one of your hands landing on his shoulder as you pulled him into a kiss, never leaving Todd’s lap.

His lips were soft, hesitant at first, as if he was still trying to figure out what was happening. But that only lasted for a moment. As soon as Dave felt the firmness of your mouth against his, he seemed to gain confidence. The kiss deepened, becoming more intense. His hand moved up to your face, his fingers tracing your jaw in a touch that sent waves of heat through your body.

And even as you lost yourself in the kiss with Dave, Todd’s presence could not be ignored. His hands on you seemed almost possessive, his thumbs making lazy circles on your skin, as if he wanted to remind you that he was there too. The contrast between the two of them was mind-blowing: Dave’s gentle touch, the almost desperate kiss, and Todd’s steady strength, keeping you anchored in the moment.

And it was somewhat impossible to ignore the growing bulge in his pants, pressed deliciously against your pussy.

When you finally pulled away from Dave, your breath was caught in your throat, your lips tingling with the intensity of the kiss. Your eyes met his, so blue and intense that you almost lost yourself again.

But there was no time to process anything. Before you could even catch your breath, Todd was in motion. He leaned forward, his hand rising to the base of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss of his own.

The initial shock gave way to a wave of electricity that coursed through your body. Todd’s kiss was completely different: firm, almost fierce, as if he were trying to claim something he thought was his. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t leave room for doubt. The hand on the back of your neck held you in place, while the other squeezed your breast, his thumb teasing the hardened nipple.

You couldn’t help it. A gasp escaped your throat, and you leaned even further against him, your fingers gripping Todd’s shirt as you tried to find some kind of balance. Your body felt incandescent, as if every cell was vibrating with the intensity of the moment.

And at the same time, you still felt Dave. His gaze was palpable, burning into your skin, and when you opened your eyes for a brief second, you found him watching you with something between fascination and desire. It was impossible to ignore the tension he carried too, the way his hands were clenched into fists on the couch, as if he was fighting the urge to pull you back.

Todd finally pulled away, but not completely. He rested his forehead against yours, his heavy breathing mingling with yours. “What now?” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with something that made your heart race even faster.

You had no answer. Or maybe you did, but you were lost in the heat of them, in the whirlwind of emotions that seemed too much to bear.

It was Dave who broke the silence, his voice low and filled with something that seemed to be a mix of nervousness and determination. “This isn’t just a game to me.”

You stared at him, his words piercing through the fog in your mind. He sounded so vulnerable, so sincere, that it made something inside you clench. But before he could say anything, Todd spoke, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

“Not even for me.”

The weight of their words fell on you, almost overwhelming. It was impossible to deny how attracted you were to both of them, how being between them felt… right. Even if it was insane. Even if it was something you had never imagined.

“I…” You began, but your voice faltered. You looked from one to the other, feeling the intensity of their gazes, feeling as if you were in the middle of something much bigger than you could comprehend. “I…” you began again, feeling your throat dry, the words stuck somewhere between your mind and your lips. You looked at Todd, whose hand was still firmly on yours, as if he feared you would disappear. Then at Dave, who looked so vulnerable and, at the same time, filled with an intensity that made your skin tingle.

“How… how would this work?” you finally asked, your voice low, almost a whisper, as if you didn’t want to break the moment. But the question was there, hanging in the air between you, filled with tension, anticipation and something you barely dared to name.

Todd arched an eyebrow, a slow, almost challenging smile curving his lips. "Do you really want to know?" he asked, his tone low and heavy, as his fingers traced lazy circles on your waist.

Dave swallowed hard, but nodded. "Yeah… I think we need to talk about it. If… if everyone is really thinking the same thing."

You laughed softly, almost in disbelief, tasting the kisses still fresh in your mouth. "I can't stop thinking about it. How you guys taste… how it feels… right." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and a blush quickly rose to your face.

Todd let out a low laugh, somewhere between amused and pleased. "Then we're on the same page."

Dave looked less sure, but his hand moved toward yours, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was hesitant, but full of meaning, as if he was trying to find the courage to move forward. "I just… I want to make sure this is something you want too. That we all want."

You looked from one to the other, your heart racing. "I do. But… what about you?"

Todd leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "I think my actions have made that pretty clear."

Dave shook his head, a small, almost shy smile curving his lips. "Yeah. I do. But I haven't… I've never done anything like this before."

"Me either," you admitted, a blush heating your face.

Todd let out an amused sigh. "Well, it seems I'm the only one here who's ever thought outside the box. But it doesn't have to be complicated."

As he spoke, you noticed the three of them were leaning toward each other without realizing it, as if the growing tension was pulling them closer. The heat of their bodies around you was almost suffocating, but in a good way, in a way that made your skin crawl, as if the blood in your veins had been replaced by liquid fire.

“So… what happens now?” you asked, your voice low, almost trembling with anticipation.

Todd opened his mouth to answer, but Dave was quicker. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that quickly gained intensity. You felt his hands cup your face, his touch firm but incredibly tender.

But before you could completely lose yourself in the kiss, you felt Todd move. His hands on your waist gently pushed you back onto the couch. The newly imposed distance made a complaint arise in your mind, but it was quickly replaced by a sigh as you felt him position himself behind you. In ecstasy, you realized that you were trapped between them. The couch creaked in response, but no one showed concern.

You wrapped your arms around Dave’s neck, feeling his chest crush your breasts. You were still kissing him when Todd pressed his lips against the curve of your neck. Your back pressed firmly against his chest.

The world seemed to spin. You couldn’t separate one sensation from the other—the heat of Dave’s kiss, the firmness of Todd’s touch, the two merging into a whirlwind that made your head spin. When Dave finally pulled away, panting, it was Todd who took his place, pulling you into a kiss that was completely different: firm, full of control, but equally devastating.

The moment Dave’s lips brushed Todd’s was like time had stopped. Neither of you moved, your eyes wide as surprise hung in the air. You held your breath, feeling the weight of tension triple around you. There were no words, just the muffled sound of rapid breathing and the heat of your bodies so close together.

“That… was…” Todd began, but the sentence trailed off, replaced by a low sigh. He looked disconcerted, his eyes fixed on Dave, but there was no hostility there. Only confusion and something that felt like… curiosity.

Dave, for his part, looked equally stunned, the blush rising quickly to his face. “I… didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible, full of embarrassment.

But Todd, instead of responding with words, let out a short, husky laugh, more of a whisper than an actual sound. “Relax, man. It was just an accident,” he said, but there was something about the way he looked at Dave—a mix of teasing and consideration that made him seem far more intrigued than he should have been.

You watched them, feeling trapped between them, both physically and emotionally. Their closeness was almost suffocating, but in a way that made your skin tingle. “Are you guys okay?” you asked, trying to diffuse the rising tension, but your own voice came out low and shaky, betraying what you really felt.

Todd looked at you, then back at Dave, before letting out a deep sigh. “Yeah. We’re fine.” He raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on you now. “What about you?”

“I… don’t know,” you admitted, laughing nervously, leaning against Todd’s chest as you tried to catch your breath. “This is all very… intense.”

Dave ran a hand through his hair, clearly still processing what had just happened. But instead of pulling away, he leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours. “But… well, it doesn’t feel wrong. Does it?”

You shook your head slowly, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. “No. It doesn’t.”

And, as if your words had broken some invisible barrier, Dave leaned in again, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that felt more urgent this time. His hands slid down your body, leaving a trail that seemed to burn your skin, before settling back on your ass, squeezing hard enough to make a moan bubble past your lips.

Before you could pull away, you felt Todd’s hands on your waist again, firm and warm, deliberately moving up until they cupped your soft breasts, kneading them gently through your thin blouse. The couch felt too small to hold all of you, your bodies moving together in an awkward but harmonious rhythm.

When Dave finally pulled away, panting, it was Todd who took his place, turning your face back for a kiss that was completely different—firmer, more demanding, almost as if he were trying to prove something. His hands teased your aching nipples, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

And then, before you could completely lose yourself in him, Dave was there again. The initial shock seemed to have faded, replaced by a strange, silent acceptance. They didn’t talk about what it meant, just went with the flow of the moment, the touches and kisses becoming a language of their own.

When you were too breathless, lost in the feeling of an insistent poke in your belly and another in your ass, your eyes closed for a moment. Just registering the moment, the way the heat had enveloped your body, the way you were deliciously pressed against each other.

“This is… insane,” you murmured between kisses, your voice broken by sighs as you tried to keep up with their movements.

“Maybe,” Todd replied, his voice low and husky against your ear. “But it feels right.”

Dave nodded, his fingers still firmly on your ass, adjusting it against his own growing bulge in his pants. "I never imagined… but, yes. It feels right." The three of you moved as if they were one, a tangle of hands and mouths, each touch, each kiss charged with an intensity that bordered on delirious.

You felt as if you were floating, trapped in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations that you couldn't and didn't want to control. Their tastes mixed together, their touches were a perfect blend of firmness and care, and the world around you disappeared completely. There was no room for doubt or regret—only the growing heat between you and the certainty that, somehow, it all made sense.

The insistent sound of a cell phone vibrating cut through the heavy air of kisses and panting breaths, but no one really seemed to care. Todd’s lips were on the curve of your neck, leaving kisses that sent shivers down your spine, while Dave held your face in a firm hand, his fingers brushing the line of your jaw as his lips took yours again.

You tried to focus, but the constant vibration seemed to grow louder and louder, almost like a reminder that was impossible to ignore. “My… my phone,” you managed to mumble, but your voice came out low, almost breathless, lost between the ringing and the heat radiating from both of them.

Dave let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a protest, his lips leaving yours just enough to murmur against your skin, “Ignore it.”

Still, you reached out with difficulty, trying to find the phone, while their caresses made it difficult to even breathe.

“Let it ring,” Todd suggested, his voice husky and low against your skin, as he left a soft bite on the side of your neck.

Dave let out a small laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It shouldn’t be that important,” he added, but the intensity of his lips returning to meet yours told you he clearly didn’t care.

You finally managed to pull out your phone, and the name on the screen made your stomach sink for a moment: Dad. Taking a deep breath—or at least trying to, because Todd hadn’t yet taken his lips off of you—you answered. “H-hey,” you managed to say, but the word came out in a shaky whisper, your voice cracking with the heat in your body.

“Daughter? Is everything okay? You seem out of breath,” your father said on the other end of the line, concerned.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice slurred and shaky as Todd took the moment to place another kiss on your neck, this time with a teasing bite that made you let out a small muffled sound before you could stop yourself. Dave arched an eyebrow, a lazy smile on his lips. “I’m… I’m at Todd’s,” you said quickly, trying to sound casual, but your heavy breathing gave you away.

“Are his parents there?” your father asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone.

You hesitated for a moment, but felt Todd smile against your skin before whispering, "Say yes."

"Yes," you lied, the word coming out too quickly. "They're… t-they're in the... living room," you finished, stuttering slightly as Dave ran his hand down your side, his fingers tracing a warm line on your skin.

Your father seemed to consider the answer for a moment before continuing. "I just wanted to let you know that your uncle is here. He came as a surprise and really wants to see you. Come home when you can."

"My uncle?" you asked, your mind in a haze. Todd's soft bite on your neck and Dave's lips brushing your collarbone made it impossible to fully focus. "Oh… sure. I'll… I'll come back," you said, but the words came out broken, almost like a sigh, which only seemed to heighten the interest in Todd and Dave's eyes.

"Is everything really okay, honey? You're sounding… weird," your father observed, his tone more serious now.

"Yes, I'm… tired," you replied, trying to sound convincing, but another sigh escaped when Dave pressed a firmer kiss to your shoulder, and you had to bite your lip to hold back any sound.

"Okay, then come back soon. Don't be long," he said before hanging up.

You dropped your phone on the couch with a shaky hand, trying to compose yourself as Todd tilted his face up, his eyes shining with mischief. “You lied so well,” he teased, his voice low and full of amusement.

“I could barely speak,” you admitted breathlessly, your lips still tingling from the kisses.

“Maybe because we didn’t let you,” Dave said, smiling as he tilted his head for another kiss, his fingers already firmly on your waist.

“I have to go,” you murmured, though you weren’t sure if you believed it.

“Do you really?” Todd asked, his fingers stroking the back of your neck slowly and deliberately.

You didn’t answer. Or maybe you couldn’t, because Dave pulled you closer, and soon you were lost in them again, every touch, every kiss, making it seem like the world outside that couch didn’t exist.

The knowledge that you had to go was coming back like a slow but inevitable tide. You were there, between them, each kiss and touch so captivating that the world seemed to have stopped. Still, the weight of the cell phone in your hand and your father's voice echoed in your mind, reminding you that you had to get out of that feverish paradise.

With an effort that seemed almost superhuman, you began to move away, your body hesitating with every inch lost between the three of them. Dave, who had his fingers intertwined in the curve of your waist, tried to keep them there for a moment longer, while Todd, with his lips still so close to your skin, let out a hoarse sigh of dissatisfaction. "Are you sure you have to go?" he asked, his tone low and loaded with something that made your legs threaten to give out.

You nodded, although your hands still instinctively sought their touch, almost as if they were acting on their own. "I… I do," you answered, but your voice came out shaky, as if the very act of speaking convinced you otherwise.

Before you could stand up completely, you leaned in, leaving a soft kiss on Todd's lips, enough to feel the slight roughness he had, so familiar now. He smiled against your lips, almost challenging, as if he was sure you would change your mind.

When your eyes met Dave's, something sparked between you. You moved closer, hesitant but determined, and his fingers soon rose to your face, firm and gentle, guiding you for another kiss. Unlike Todd's, his was a mix of intensity and tenderness, something that made your chest tight with conflicting emotions.

As you pulled away, panting, you saw the two exchange a brief, almost complicit look, before turning their focus back to you. The marks they left began to burn lightly on your skin as you adjusted yourself to get up, and it was only when you absently ran your hand over your neck that you realized the damage they had done.

Your face blushed violently. “You… left marks,” you murmured, your voice tinged with embarrassment and something else they probably noticed too.

Todd tilted his head, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “And you left yours too,” he replied teasingly, indicating the place where your own fingers had previously grazed his neck.

Dave laughed, a low, comfortable laugh. “Good luck explaining that,” he said, his tone laced with amusement but also something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Still dazed, you gathered your things, feeling their eyes follow your every move. When you finally reached the door, Todd was the first to stand, walking towards you with that familiar relaxed confidence. He leaned in for one last kiss, quicker this time but no less intense, as if he wanted to prolong the moment for just a second longer.

Dave approached soon after, his gaze warm and amused. “See you later,” he said, his fingers brushing your hand before he leaned in for another kiss. "See you," you replied, the word almost swallowed by the confusion of emotions dancing inside you. When you finally left, you could still feel their lips on yours and the marks, now not only on your skin, but also on your heart.

The door closed with a soft click, leaving Dave and Todd alone in the room. For a moment, silence reigned, interrupted only by the sound of their still uneven breathing. They threw themselves on the couch, their clothes slightly wrinkled and the marks of what had happened written on their faces — swollen lips, messy hair, and an unsettling glint in their eyes.

Todd was the first to break the silence, letting out a low, almost incredulous laugh. “Dude… what the fuck just happened?” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more as he looked at Dave, his eyes still filled with a mix of amusement and surprise.

Dave was still processing everything, his gaze fixed on the door as if he expected you to return at any moment. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice coming out hoarse, almost choked. He brought a hand to his face, as if he needed to make sure he was still there. “That was… completely insane.”

Todd tilted his head back, letting out a long sigh, before looking at Dave with a smile that was half teasing, half pure fascination. “You do realize we just kissed the same girl, right? Like… fuck, while she was between us. That’s better than any porn I’ve ever seen.”

Dave blushed immediately, but didn’t try to deny it. “Yeah, I noticed, Todd,” he replied, his voice louder than he intended. He ran his hands over his face, desperately trying to make sense of it. “That was… different. And you didn’t even flinch,” he added, looking at Todd with a mix of accusation and something else.

“Neither did you,” Todd replied, a smirk appearing on his face. He shrugged, as if he was more comfortable with the situation than he should have been. “But seriously… did you feel it? Like, how she seemed to be… there with us? Not between us, but… part of it?”

Dave couldn’t help but remember the way their bodies seemed to mold together, as if everything made some strange, unexpected sense. “I felt it,” he admitted, reluctantly but honestly. “And that’s what makes me so confused.”

Todd turned to face Dave directly, his smile fading as he spoke more seriously. “So… what do we do about this? Because, man, I can’t just… pretend it didn’t happen.”

Dave shook his head slowly, his eyes returning to the couch, where minutes ago everything had happened. “Me neither,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He licked his lips, as if he could still taste her. “I think we need to… talk to her about it. See what she thinks.”

Todd laughed lightly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, because this isn’t going to be weird,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. But the smile that followed was genuine. “If there’s one thing that’s clear, it’s that she’s just as lost in this as we are.”

Dave nodded slowly, his fingers drumming against his leg. “Do you think she… feels the same way? Like, that this is something that could work?”

Todd shrugged, but there was a strange confidence in the gleam in his eyes. “Only one way to find out, right? But man, if I know her well enough… I’d say she was as comfortable with us as she seemed.”

Dave stared at Todd for a long moment before finally letting out a shy smile. "This is crazy, Todd. You know that, right?"

Todd laughed, louder this time, throwing his head back. "Of course it is, man. But if we're going to do something crazy, at least it's with her."

They were silent after that, both lost in their own thoughts. But deep down, one thing was clear: whatever had started in that room, it wasn't something they were willing to abandon any time soon.

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