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touchme-teezme · 1 day ago

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hi mimi! idk if u take requests but last pick was everything to me like i lovedddd the book that inspired you 😭🥹 can i PLEASE get a san version with the “did you want to watch me burn” poem? just destroy me. my heart is yourssss

This Time.

PAIRING | collegeboy!san x fab!reader

TAGS | arguments, smut with a plot, kissing, oral, angsty unprotected breakup sex, san has great pull out game, and a (sort of?) cliffhanger… again? idk i suck at writing tags and proper endings lolololol

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors pls DNI/if it makes u uncomfortable don’t read it)

SONGS | No One Noticed - The Marías, Not You Too- Dr*ke & Been Like This - Doja Cat

SUMMARY | The breakup for this couple was on the horizon. One of them was in denial, and it’s not you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you all for showing Last Pick a lot of love & anon for enjoying it. since a san version was requested, here ya go :) lmk which member should be next if you'd want me to actually make this into an angsty atz smut series. kinda like the idea they’re all connected?¿ like a smutiverse… im a little tipsy rn writing this part. also if u catch mistakes, no u didn’t. kk bye love uou

inspired by a quote from Save Me An Orange by Hayley Grace: what more did you want from me? i gave you my heart my soul my body i let you build a home inside of me but you still went to the store and bought a lighter just to set me on fire did you want to watch me burn?

You’re usually an optimist but it wasn’t until San smashed the vase you bought and painted together at that one arts and crafts store that you realized optimism could only take you so far.

A screaming match broke out immediately. Words bounced off the walls, echoing in your small apartment as fingers were being pointed. He followed you around the entire house as you tried to walk away from the conversation, pinging in your ear like a fly.

San gets emotional when he cares. It was the first thing you liked about him when you first started to talk. How nice would it be to be with someone so well in-tune with their emotions that they don’t why away from it?

If only you’d known it would result in this.

The relationship was done for. It had been for a while. He had been far too busy juggling classes, work, and his new friends who seemed to suddenly fill all the time he used to spend with you. You’d barely even seen him in weeks, and when you did, it was like you were fighting for scraps of his attention.

San’s voice cracked as he shouted behind your head. “You think I don’t know I’ve been busy? I’ve been juggling everything, trying to keep it all together, and you—you—think I don’t feel guilty? You want me to just drop everything? Stop hanging out with my friends? Quit school? What do you want from me?”

He was following you now, not letting you get a moment of peace. You forced yourself to focus on the task of cleaning up the shards, trying to block out his words as you looked for the broom around your house.

“Do you think I want this? You think I want to feel like this? You think I want to hurt you? But you keep demanding more from me, and I can’t do it anymore! I can’t just stop living my life to fix yours!”

“Oh fuck off!” You barked back, finally finding the broom that was in an odd spot in your wardrobe (probably because San had placed it there the last time he used it). You were now growing more annoyed.

“Don’t curse at me! Listen to me for goodness sake!”

Your hands trembled around the broom handle, but you marched towards the vase shards and started sweeping, trying not to hear the poison dripping from his mouth. You had given up on fighting—there was no point anymore. He was too far gone, wrapped up in his own world that was so difficult for him to show up.

“You’re too much, alright?” he spat, his voice cracking with frustration. “I can’t breathe, I can’t think. Every time I try to focus on something else, you’re right there, needing something from me. I can’t fix this. I can’t keep being suffocated—“

You dropped the broom.

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time, and in that moment, you never felt like this about him before.

“Do you hear yourself?” Your voice was shaking, but it was steady, sharp. “In that whole rant you just forced me to hear, not once did you mention us—not once did you mention me like i’m not in this fucking relationship with you! Not once did you mention all i’ve done for you, and the only time you did was to insult me!”

San opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just stood there, eyes wide, lips trembling.

You stepped forward as if to challenge his speechlessness, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck are you still doing here then?!”

The room fell silent.

And then, out of nowhere, he tried to reach for you.

It was a movement fuelled by panic if he was truly honest, it was a final desperate attempt to fix things without actually knowing how.

He just knew that he had to have you in his arms and you’d melt. His hand caught yours, pulling you closer, but you yanked it away.

He stepped closer, his breath ragged, reaching for you again with a look in his eyes that was pure guilt you knew all too well.

Your stern face broke when he managed to get you in his large strong arms that wrapped around you.

You stood there, shaking, breathing hard, barely able to hold back the tears.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your cracking voice was muffled against his hard chest.

And then, in his painful silence, he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.

You did not stop him.

In fact, you couldn’t.

His next kiss was more desperate and frantic than the last, like he was trying to compensate for all the times he had utterly let you down.

When he finally found the self control to pull back, both of you were panting, faces flushed, hearts racing. He looked at you with a mix of fear, guilt, and longing in his eyes. He wiped your damp cheeks, cupping the sides of your face.

"I don’t mean to," He whispered. “I-I swear, everything I said, I-“

You shook your head in denial, wanting to just shut him up with more kisses knowing if you both talked, you’d eventually argue.

For once, you didn’t want to fight. If the relationship was crashing and burning right now, might as well get one last lick out of it, right?

Metaphorically, and quite literally.

San groaned softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and snake to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

"You drive me insane," He breathed against her lips, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.

It was true, you always had, in the best and worst ways possible. The feeling was mutual as you stared back at him.

He couldn't resist your pull, the way you were in the moment consumed him entirely. His hands roamed your curves, and reached down to grip your ass firmly as he walked you backwards towards the couch.

You let out a soft gasp, your fingers digging into his waist as you let yourself get sat down with him positioned above you. His knee perched up right between your slightly parted legs.

The friction his knee brushing between your legs sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. He could feel your pulse quickening, and your breath hitching as he sucked and kissed the sides of your neck.

Your hands slipped beneath his black shirt, seeking for skin. With a slight eager tug, he took it off without any argument, revealing his lean muscled torso that you did not hesitate to touch and admire knowing it was going to be the last time.

Instead of letting that knowledge crush you or him, with a low moan, he just leaned into your touch.

“Tell me to stop��” He breathed out, hands on your shoulders to steady himself. He struggled to maintain control as his arousal throbbed against the inside of his zipper.

“Keep going.” You replied in a husky whisper.

With a groan, he gave in to the temptation. His tongue met yours, as his hands slid down to your chest to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, having to bite back a smirk when your back arched into his technique.

Your nimble fingers freed him from his jeans. Unbuttoning, and then zipping down before massaging his hard on through the fabric of his underwear. A breath of relief escaped his lips when his throbbing cock was finally freed.

He helped you out of your top, watching you stroke his impressive length in your hands from above. His hands glided down your back and unclasped your bra, letting your breast sit in all its glory.

He was going to take care of you first until your mouth engulfed him without missing a beat.

“O-oh my god.” His hips bucked involuntarily forward as your skilled hand continued to stroke, the dual sensations of her and her fingers wrapped around his member threatening to overwhelm him.

San’s eyes rolled back as you took him entirely into your mouth. His body weight leaning on his forearms that were on either sides of your head, holding onto the back of the couch for dear life.

Your skilled tongue and throat working in tandem to bring him to the brink of madness. The wet heat blanketing his aching cock was almost too much to bear, each bob of her head sent him more and more over the edge.

"Oh f-fuck!” His mouth hung open as he fisted your hair and fought the urge to thrust deeper.

A part of him couldn’t make sense why this was happening now of all times. He could’ve just taken your desperation to touch him for granted but something about it didn’t feel right.

With effort and a hell lot of focus, San gently stopped you before he could cum. He stroked the side of your face when you looked up at him confused. He shot one of the sweetest dimpled smiles at you.

Seeing that dimpled smile light up your face.

With a hand behind your head, he laid you back on the couch gently. Your hands politely stayed on your own chest, cupping them as you watched his next move.

In one swift motion, he tugged down your underwear with your pyjama shorts and tossed them away.

One of your legs get thrown over his shoulder, and he used his other hand to part your leg wider. His head moved down to your glistening sex and his tongue licked a strip up your folds.

Air got caught in your throat. You let out a shaking deep breath through your lips. His hand on your thigh moved up to your chest, intertwining his fingers with your fingers against your racing heartbeat.

You gripped onto his fingers every time he’d do something that sent shockwaves through your body either with his lips, tongue or his nose. He kissed your sensitive clit, alternating his tongue between that and pounding into your entrance.

“San,” You whined, which only encouraged him to keep going. You tilted your chin upwards, facing the ceiling as tears began welling in your eyes. Unclear if it was the pleasure or the sinking feeling in the out of your stomach.

Then you felt that body shock again, jolting you as you let out a loud moan.

You met his eyes. Those cat-like eyes staring back at you between your legs with laser focus before lazily shutting when he turned his head to the side to lap up your slick arousal from the inner part of your thighs.

He got up and took off his underwear before hovering on-top of you, centring his hard shaft just past your entrance as he supported himself up by the armrest behind your head.

His chain necklace to drop down and dangle in your face.

He gazed into your eyes, reaching down to rub your slick folds once more. He leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips as he readjusted his hard dick between your legs. Your hands wrapped themselves in the dip of his waist as your knees pressed against his hips.

“We can’t keep fighting forever,” You told him in a faint whisper.

Leaning down, he distracted you by capturing your lips into a tender loving kiss to slowly pushed in. He felt your teeth on his lip as your walls adjusted to him.

“I know.” Was all he could murmur against your face as a hand cupped one side of your face.

He kept having your lips in between his as he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm designed to slowly ease into you. Small gasps escaped your lips and you clutched onto his biceps for support while your neck stretched upwards.

“Baby, you feel incredible.” He picked up the pace slightly, his thrusts growing deeper, and more insistent, as he chased the intense feeling coursing through him.

The way your body clenched around his length, the soft gasps falling from your lips.

With your moans of approval, he seized the opportunity to go even deeper and quicken the pace in your wet welcoming heat. He pulled in your mouth for intoxicating searing kisses he couldn’t get enough of.

“I miss you,” You whimpered out the truth between the kisses. “S-so much.”

He snapped forward with new determination accentuated by the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other.

He let go of your mouth to focus on your chest. "I'm right here baby." He mumbled over your breasts as he cupped one in his large hands, brushing over your nipples before reaching down to lick.

He alternates between wet kisses and whirling his tongue, aimed to only give you pleasure. In his defence, he hasn't had the opportunity to do this in a while.

You grabbed a side of his face to look into his lustful eyes. “I really did love you.” You breathed out.

“I love you too.” He replied, too entranced by the moment to catch that single word in your sentence.

You crashed your lips against his. The technique of his kissing made you moan loudly into his mouth, and then against his jaw with your eyes shut when he was hitting the perfect spot over and over.

Your body was tensing up tighter and tighter as the pressure of the inside you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

“I’m close,” San panted. “Come for me. Come first.”

As a result of his husky words, your walls clench around him, and your climax comes crashing in. One passionate thrust as he buried himself inside your convulsing sex, the intense orgasm shook your entire body violently.

While your final convulsions faded, you slumped against the couch, panting heavily. Meanwhile, San rode off your enjoyment only to abruptly slip out of you before blowing a load inside you without a condom on.

He released himself from your legs that were wrapped around him and hurried to your nearby bathroom, his hard-on in his hands.

You lay there in a daze, trying to make sense of everything, feeling a mix of confusion and shame. You covered your face with your hands, desperate to hide from the reality of the situation.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up from the leather couch to sit up, its surface sticking a little to your sweaty skin, before you reached for your underwear lying forgotten at your feet.

You managed to get most of your clothes back on when he returned. The sight of him—his broad athletic build and that confident stride—distracted you just long enough for him to lean down and kiss you, his hands gently resting on the side of your neck.

You instinctively covered his hand with your own, locking eyes with him.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft.

You stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question sinking in.

He kissed you again, his lips warm and insistent, and for a moment, the thoughts swirling in your head began to fade.

Before you knew it, he lowered himself down onto the floor across from you, wanting to pull you on top of him to straddle him.

“Stop. No more.” you murmured, pushing him away gently.

Your heart pounding as your knees pressed against the hardwood floors when you realised you were already sitting on his thighs.

San sharply sighed, a little disappointed, but he didn’t fight it. He let go of his grip on your waist, and you slowly kicked yourself off him.

The two of you lay on the floor, side by side, your breaths finally slowing after whatever that was. The silence between you wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

He reached for his underwear with his feet, slipping it on slowly, his eyes never leaving you. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was going on.

You turned your head to look at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling, his expression unreadable, distant even though he was right there.

“San,” you began softly, your voice breaking the stillness. “I think we—”

His phone buzzed, cutting through the tension, and he glanced at it with another sigh. You felt the moment slip away as he got up and fumbled for his phone left in his pants by the couch.

“It’s Mingi,” he muttered.

“San,” you tried again, your tone heavier this time, begging for his attention. But he’d already answered the call.

You stayed on the floor, your chest tightening as fragments of their conversation reached your ears.

“Dude, what? I’m in the middle of… Huh? No, I haven’t heard from her,” San said, his tone sharp but tinged with concern. “She’s been dodging everyone since that night at Yeosang’s when you wouldn’t shut up about your conquests.”

Your frown deepened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. His brows furrowed, his full attention on the call like you weren’t even there.

“Well, maybe you should go check on her then,” San said, leaning back against the couch. “What, come over? Her place or yours?”

A pause, then his expression shifted—confusion, followed by clear exasperation.

San ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll come over later.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the floor like it had personally wronged him.

“Mingi needs help with something,” he said it like that was enough explanation.

You stared at him, baffled and angry, “So you’re going?”

He turned to you, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes before he looked away. “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The words hit you like a slap, but what was worse than the sting was the inevitability that this was always how it would be. You, waiting for scraps of his time, his attention. Him, running off to play hero for everyone but you.

“San,” you said, your voice trembling. “You always have a choice. You just never choose me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back. “You couldn’t even let me finish breaking up with you before answering his call.”

“What? It’s not like that. This is serious to him—he really likes her—”

“Save it,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “Since you’re always serious about everyone else, just go.”

He hesitated, his hand hovering near his phone. “You’re being—”

“Go,” you repeated firmly, tears welling in your eyes but your tone unwavering. “And don’t ever come back this time.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to defend himself, or to stay, but then he stood up. He pulled the rest of his clothes back on, grabbed his phone, and shoved it into his back pocket without a word.

He glanced at you on his way out, his gaze searching for something, anything, to make this easier. He convinced himself he’d call you tomorrow, that this wasn’t really goodbye like the other times you both have tried to end it. He didn’t realize how serious you were this time.

He walked past the shards and the broom and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

#ateez #choi san smut #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #choi san #ateez oneshot #atz smut #san x reader #atz x reader #ateez fic

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daddysfangirls-marvel · 3 days ago

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Polyamorous: Inexperience pt.3

*Bonus*

Steve rogers x female! reader x Bucky Barnes/ Stucky x female!Reader

Warning: fluff, smut

"He's doing much better. He should be right as rain by morning." Bucky said as he placed leaned against the counter next to (y/n) as she did the dishes.

Steve had fallen ill Bucky, (Y/n), and Mrs. Rogers have been doing their best to take care of him. Mrs. Rogers had switched to the night shift temporary so she could be with Steve during the day and Bucky and (y/n) would be with him at night after work. It had been two weeks and his fever was finally letting up.

"Aunt Sarah will love to hear that. She hates night shift."

"I hear her night shifts are quiet"

"yeah, but there are no doctors on ward meaning if something happens they have to call one in and none of them live close. There is only so much nurses can do."

Bucky kissed her shoulder" She'll be alright." and picked up a towel helping her dry. "Aunt Sarah is strong and so is Steve. They'll be just fine."

"I know, doesn't mean I can't worry." They finished cleaning the kitchen in silence.

Bucky watched as (Y/n) pulled out extra blankets and pillows getting the couch ready. They would sleep on the couch as to not catch Steve's illness.

"you're staring" (Y/n) said not even looking at him. She could feel his eyes on her backside, nothing new. He came up behind her wrapping his arms around her and kissing her shoulder and back of her neck.

"I'm going to change into my nightgown." She said pushing him away. " How about you make some tea? I'll be back"

When she came back in her night gown she found Bucky sitting on the couch legs spread in nothing but his pants and beer in his hand.

"I said tea"

He just smiled and waved her over. She came over sitting on his lap straddling him she took the beer from his hand took a swig and made a disgusted face he took it back. " Still don't like beer."

"Sorry," He said " we'll find something for you doll. Like that wine you liked." She wrapped her arms around his neck. Kissing his cheek.

"I don't need alcohol." (y/n) said running her fingers through his hair. He put the beer out the coffee table and put his hands on her hips. "We need to go to sleep"

"I know" he said as he started kissing and nibbling on her neck.

"you've got work tomorrow" he pulled her hips closer. Putting her on his growing bulge.

"I Know" he groaned. Pulling up her night gown and found no underwear.

"I've got school tomorrow" she moans as she rocks her hips. He slips his hands under her gown and grasping her breast. " We need to sleep."

"do you really want to sleep?" he asked pulling his hands from under her dress.

She sighed leaning her forehead against his " No," she said.

Bucky bit her bottom lip. "You sure?" he asked smirked.

"yeah,"

And in one fell swoop her nightgown was gone leaving her naked and in Bucky's lap. This was not what she was expecting and he could see that on her face.

"Sorry, should have asked." He moved to put her gown back on but she stopped him.

"Can we deem the lights?" she asked. He nodded letting her off his lap and moving to turn off the lights, leaving only a lamp. When he comes back she has wrapped a blanket around herself looking down the hallway towards Steve's room.

"we can stop here. We can go to sleep." she looked to him and shakes her head. He leans down kissing her forehead.

"I can be quiet" she whispers sitting up on her knees. He kissed letting his tongue slip into her mouth, tasting her. He picks her up letting her wrap her legs around him. She moaned as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. And flinched as she felt his fingers touched her other lips.

"Fuck" she cursed as she felt him insert his fingers. She hissed as he started to pump his fingers. As he stood in the middle of the room he was the only things she could hold on to. So, she pulled his hair and clawed his back. And he groaned all the while.

She whimpered biting into his neck as she climbed to her climax but before she could reach it. He pulled away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom.

"Aren't you an Aces. Planned all of this."

"No, but always prepared."

She giggled as he dropped her onto the couch. (y/n) watched as he shimmed off his pants. He was bigger than Stevie. Watched as he slipped on the condom with the skillset of someone who has done it many times before. Bucky leans over her, grabbing the back of the couch. Pulling her legs around his waist.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah," she said, lifting her hips toward him.

He didn't waste any time after that. She bit her lip as he pushed in the tip. He reached down, grabbing her hip as he pushed in further. As she began to moan loudly, he pulled her into a kiss to silence her. She moans into the kiss as he bottoms out. He pulls away and asks

"Are you okay?" She just nods and pulls him closer. " You gotta say something, doll."

She moans, " Good, good."

"Good?" he spoke as he slowly began to thrust into her.

"So good." she whimpered.

(Y/n) gasps as he changes their position, putting her on her back and a leg on his shoulder. She moans as he goes in deeper, leaning over her.

Bucky groaned as her walls tightened around him. He leans down, kissing her as he starts to thrust inside of her. With his mouth covering hers the only sound heard the sound of skin slapping the wet sound of him pounding into her. It echos through out the room. (Y/n) is sure the neighbors could hear.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss putting his head into her shoulder his thrust soon became slobby and started to slow down. He cursed as her walls clenched down on him. He could now understand why Steve had cum so quickly, Her pussy was fucking fantastic, He was trying his best not to follow the example of the smaller man trying to last longer give her pleasure first.

Reaching in between them he found her clit and began to rub it gently. (Y/n) bite her lip trying her best to hide her moans.

"Let me hear you, come on make noise for me." and she did moaning out breathlessly. As she dug her nails into his back arching into his touch. "Go on cum for me love, please cum for me."

"B-Bucky, oh Bucky" she moaned out as she felt her self reach that edge.She cried out as cum shaking underneath him. Bucky was quick to follow filling his condom.

As they caught their breathes Bucky put her leg down and flipped them over so she was on his chest.

"I love you" she mumbled into his chest.

"I love you too."

#fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #stucky x reader smut #stucky fanfiction #stucky x reader #stucky smut #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x steve rogers

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kyistell · 9 months ago

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I just cannot wait for the day Lindy Ruff is fired.

I am tired of having the tiny hope I have be taken away every damn game.

I am tired of seeing the players, who are clearly just dun not in the sense that they aren't trying but in the sense that they have gotten used to the disappointment that is this season, be exhausted every game, especially when players like Daws, L. Hughes and literally anyone else who is showing signs of stress clearly aren't playing in tiptop shape.

I am tired of Lindy sounded disappointed any time he is on screen, no matter if we do well or not that game, it's consistent disappointment and disinterest when I hear him talk and it sucks.

I am tired of New Jersey somehow finding a way to be a joke even in the sports world with our ONLY major professional, this team is many people only knowledge of Jersey and yet we are STILL a joke or something to just not be respected.

I am tired of every game where everyone is sure this just HAS to be Lindy's last game and yet somehow he is still there the next time we play, that somehow someway he probably won't be fired till the end of the season and EVEN THEN who knows if he actually will me.

I am tired and over it but I'll still be watching the games, I'll still be there when we lose once again, I'll still be there talking to Sky saying shit about how much I hate Lindy and how he is running this team into the ground, I'll still be complaining about Ruff to my parents because they have to know everything wrong going on.

I'll still be here because just because a team is doing shit doesn't mean you should drop it just because of that, that just shows you weren't actually a fan in my opinion.

I have far too much state pride for my own good because I genuinely love this state and love this team, so I'll stick through the good and the bad, continue to be slightly angry with myself for not being able to get into hockey last year when we were badass.

And I'll still be watching and eventually buy more stuff for the Devils because let's be real, the second that sales drop and the Devs aren't as popular the club isn't stay in Jersey, so might as well support the bastards ya know?

And hey, who knows, maybe one day we shall see Lindy gone and this team flourishing, but until then I'll just keep being sorta upset that we aren't doing as well as we can and drinking my problems away (this is a joke and I promise it's just water, Liquid Death specifically).

#new jersey devils #nj devils #i never thought i would do a long ass post about the devs #but hey #first time for everything #besides im tired of nj getting shit on by other teams fans #like we get it #the devs arent the best #whatever #you cant say anything if you haven't won in the 21st century #*cough* rangers *cough*#anyway #i have a lot of pride for my state and my team #maybe too much #but when you grow up not even hearing much news about the place you live unless its super duper bad or good #you tend to take anything you can #i really wish we got to know more about how the team is with lindy #cause i get the idea that theres a lot we dont know #we the people and the media #jersey is really weird about news #cause unless it could make msnbc or something #it just isnt really worth publishing #because chances are no one is going to see it #considering a lot of people dont watch new 12 nj #is this just me ranting about how i love this team but hate the man running it #yes #absolutely #and im damn proud of it too #quite the masterpiece if i do say so myself #which i do

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nezuscribe · 21 days ago

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(previous part)

it's been a week since you've spoken to arranged!gojo, and he feels like he's about to start going crazy.

you don't speak during your meals, not even when he addresses you in a question. sometimes you spare him a glance, but he'd still rather see your icy glare than see nothing at all.

and he knows he fucked up. he knows that you seeing him alone with anya was perhaps the worst possible place you could’ve caught him, but he's been almost begging you to listen to him, to hear his side. but every time he goes to explain you leave abruptly, leaving him alone, feeling the looks of pity from those around the two of you.

and you know you're being petty. after all, the two of you are only bound by words, nothing else. if anything, the two of you were just becoming friends, so this shouldn't hurt you as much as it does.

but you hear the whispers of the ladies, hear of their secret proposals of how gojo would surely bed them if they just asked. how miserable he must be trapped with you, how this marriage is ruining his life. and you know anya, know about her history with him. before you were his wife you were the higher echelon wallflower, listening to all the gossip, observing from afar.

you've gathered some ideas in your head as to why he might want to speak with you. perhaps he wants to gently break the news that he's found a mistress, one that he actually loves. or that maybe he's already had one and now you know why he's been so secretive.

so the more he tries to talk to you, the more you pull away. you don't know why he cares so much, why this even matters to him. if anything, you feel like he should be content with your silence.

but he's not, and gojo grows more restless by the hour.

he decides he can't live like this anymore. tonight he's going to make you listen to him, even if you want nothing to do with him.

you're holed up in your room, talking with alina as she dabs lavender oil on your neck before you go to sleep. you know she knows about your silence with gojo, but ever friend, she does nothing to bring it up.

well, she wouldn't have to if he didn't come knocking feverishly at your door.

you watch in your mirror as she peeks her head out, her gasp of surprise causing a sinking pit to form in your stomach. you can hear how she scrambles with the titles of my lord, how she explains that you're nearly about to go to sleep.

it's late, the only light is the flickering of the candles on your nightstand. he should be asleep by now.

gods, you wonder for the millionth time this week, why does he care so much?

alina finishes up, closing the door slightly as she turns to you, her eyes finding yours in the mirror.

"i'm sorry my lady," she bows her head almost apologetically, "but my lord wants to talk to you. he's requested me to leave...if you'll excuse me," she bows, quickly leaving, not giving you any time to actually excuse her. you know she can't stay any longer, but you do wish she put up more of a fight. you watch her skirt bustle away, the door being left slightly ajar.

you try to act nonchalant, continuing to dab the oil onto your wrists as you look down, even when you hear the door click shut, even when you can feel his presence several feet behind you.

you sigh through your nose, heat rising to your cheeks.

"what?" you bite out, your own voice shocking you. you want to get this over with, not too desperate to hear about how he's ready to take on a mistress and shun you away.

you can hear him take in a deep breath, your eyes briefly looking up in the mirror to catch his, the same ones that make your knees weak, and avert your gaze.

"you haven't spoken to me in over a week," he says after a beat of silence.

you shrug indifferently, despite the fact that he could probably ask you the specific amount of hours it's been since the two of you had talked and you'd give an accurate number.

"i've been busy," you murmur, taking your earrings off as you place them gently in the little glass bowl to the side.

he doesn't say anything about your blatant lie, just nods slowly, as if he understands.

"i missed hearing you talk," gojo tells you quietly, almost as if his voice had been stuck in his throat, and you wonder if any man before him had ever tried to sweet talk his wife before he told her about his new mistress.

you don't say anything, still refusing to look at him as you stand up from your seat, turning off one of the candles near you as you smooth out some of the wrinkles of your nightgown.

"is this what you really want to tell me gojo?" you say bluntly, looking to the side momentarily, getting a longer look at his bulky figure, how he tries to make himself seem smaller, "that you miss my stupid jokes and dull stories?"

"they're not stupid," he quickly cuts in, his voice a little stronger, brows furrowed, "and i like your stories."

you roll your eyes, moving around the bed, to the side where he's not, and fluff your pillows. you've never found this useful, but it gives you something to do with your hands other than fidgeting with them.

truth be told, you're reflecting. you're scared of what it is he has to say, and so you try to appear stronger, and less caring, despite the fact that it's tearing you apart.

you try not to feel self-conscious of the fact that this is his first time ever seeing your room, or the fact that it's so bland. you didn't come to this estate with many things, and so you've tried to spruce up the space as much as you can, but aside from the few flowers and paintings on the wall, you fear it looks bland compared to everything else he's seen.

"and no," gojo adds, running a hand through his already tousled white hair as his arms crossed over his chest, and you finally allow yourself to stare at him, "that's not all i wanted to say."

he paused for a second.

"i don't know why i followed her out, or why i even stayed to hear her speak, but she kept saying these things about..." he trails off, gnawing on his lips as your eyes narrow slightly.

"me?" you finish for him, and his eyes dart to yours.

gojo nods a little bit, arms bulging a little bit as if remembering what she had said.

"i'm used to people staring at me, i lived with it my entire life. but with you, people..." he struggles to find words, "people stare longer. and i don't know why."

you raise a brow.

"do you want me to explain?" you say and he looks at you briefly, almost in a brazen way.

he shakes his head as if he had steered off track.

"that's beside the point. what i wanted to tell you is that she...she was saying some nonsense and i was about to leave until she offered for me to stay at the hostelry she was at." his blue eyes are wavering, his finger itching to get closer to you. this stupid bed is in the middle of you two and he wishes it were gone.

your breathing hitches a little bit, and you hope he doesn't see the sad tilt on your lips.

"so i banished her. or, well, i guess you saw her and then i banished her, but i would've done it regardless," he explains hurriedly, "look, i'm sorry...really sorry. if you want me to-"

"you banished her?" you cut him off, voice raised slightly in confusion.

his mouth gapes open for a second, and then blinks slowly, nodding.

"of...course," he tilts his head, his gorgeous head, slightly "you know that i am married, right? to you? she was offering to-"

"i thought you were going to tell me that you slept with her. o-or i don't know! that you were going to make her your mistress or something!" you spew out, your voice raised as you pace around the floor, moving a little bit closer to him as his eyes widen.

"why would you ever think that?" gojo says in a panicked tone, nothing like the man who commanded the northern army, but more like somebody who was watching his world burn in front of him.

"why?" you exclaim, shocked, "why? are you daft? every single woman wants to sleep with you! every single time we host those dinners, o-or we go to those parties, they look at you and they look at me and they pity you. i hear the whispers of the ladies, how they wouldn't mind being the other woman."

gojo hears the way your voice wavers, how your lips tremble, and the way you try not to let your bottom lip quiver. he sees the way you try to stay strong, to keep your image unbridled, but right now he feels like he's watching you break and he doesn't know what to do.

"so? what makes you think i'd do anything with them?" gojo argues, his voice raised a little bit, not in shouting, but in genuine disbelief.

you take a moment to step back and observe his behavior, and a nagging voice in your head tells you that he's telling you the truth. that he's concerned and worried, that maybe all he came to tell you tonight was an apology.

but that can't be correct.

so you sigh, your arms crossed over your chest protectively.

"i...i don't know," you murmur, "you sleep in another wing, you're always away. i thought...maybe..." you can't meet his eyes, fidgeting with the ring on your finger.

gojo takes a step forward, lips parted, cheeks rosy and flushed.

the two of you don't say anything for a minute, his chest heaving up and down. you feel like there's a weight both removed and added onto your shoulder.

"why didn't you say anything?" he whispers, "did you think...did you think i was...?" he can't finish the sentence, the words themselves too gruesome.

he doesn't say anything as he takes another tentative step closer.

you watch him, your eyes mirroring one another.

"i made a vow to you," his voice is heavy, traveling across the spanning stone walls, going deep into your bones, "and even if you prefer me to be your friend, i'll keep to that vow till the day i die."

your eyes gloss over, lips trembling.

you don't say anything, taking a couple steps forward as you smash against his chest, face crumpling against the stone wall of his torso as you hug him tightly, hoping that he can't feel the tears that seep through his nightshirt.

never in your life has somebody made a promise to you. and never in your life has somebody kept to that promise.

"thank you," you murmur, your voice muffled as his arms wrap around your body, steady and strong.

"and anyways, i'd prefer to be married to you than those miserable women any day," he mumbles into your hair and you laugh wetly, squeezing your arms tighter.

"really?" you say, tears blurring your vision.

"really," he hums, not able to say anything because he fears what you'd say if he told you that he'd rather be your husband and your friend. but he'd keep that inside, respecting your wishes.

if only he knew you wished the same.

#gojo x reader #gojo x reader angst #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x you #gojo drabble #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk drabble #arranged!gojo

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bi-writes · 4 months ago

Note

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon thoughts #order up

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hausofwoo · 4 months ago

Text

handy | choi san

pairing: choi san x afab reader

word count: 5K

summary: you move into a shitty apartment with a long list of maintenance issues. your landlord puts off sending someone to fix them, only making your frustrations grow. that is, until the maintenance man finally arrives and you discover that he's hot... and you find yourself making excuses for him to keep coming back.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, maintenance man!san, tenant!reader, reader is kind of a perv lol, unprotected piv (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), san is a tease, fingering, hair pulling (m receiving), cumplay, kitchen counter sex!!!, he kinda throws u around hehehe, choking, dacryphilia, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: umm.... hahaha um...... so this is lowkey based on a recent experience i had of my maintenance man coming to fix some shit in my apt and he strangely had SO much rizz and i was like wait a minute.... this could be a great fic idea LMAO thank u to @hausofmingi for being my beta-reader ily always ♡

when you signed your lease at your new apartment, you didn’t expect to sign up for a list of problems.

you desperately needed a new place to live, and with the measly budget you had for rent, all that was left available were slim pickings. so when you finally found a small 1 bedroom apartment that wasn’t double your desired price, you jumped at the opportunity. you applied for the place on the spot and were approved the same day. you didn’t really think anything of it, but when you finally got settled in and actually gave a good look at your newfound home… you were in for a fucking nightmare.

for starters, the window unit in the bedroom wouldn’t blow cool air. it’s right in the heat of the summer, so coming home after a long day only to sweat all night long was not cutting it for you. you put in a maintenance request through your tenant portal app the first day when you realized this.

another annoyance was the dishwasher. one of your biggest must-haves was to have an actual working one. maybe you were asking a bit much with your budget, but with the amount that you work, it was imperative. you were thrilled to see the dishwasher during the viewing, only to find a few days worth of dirty dishes later, that said dishwasher was rusty and moldy. literally unusable. so you put in another maintenance request.

last one, and maybe now you’re just getting picky because you’re pissed, but your shower water pressure sucked, and by the time you would finish a shower, the water would take forever to drain. another request sent.

all these maintenance requests and not a single one fixed. you started to wonder if the tenant portal app even worked, so you called your landlord, only to grapple with them on finding a time for them to fix it while you’re still home. you might want these things fixed asap, but you’re not willing to let a stranger in your space when you’re not there.

you started to fucking lose it. a few weeks with no cold air, shitty water pressure, and dishes piling up your sink, and not one thing being done about it. you call your landlord one more time, urging them to finally fix these issues, arguing that they should’ve been fixed before you even moved in. and with that last push, they finally caved and did their fucking job. they said they’re sending someone there first thing tomorrow.

so when you finally wake up and go about your day-off routine, you’re constantly watching the clock. when they said “first thing tomorrow,” did they mean “first thing tomorrow once the maintenance man feels like it”? because it’s already pushing noon and you’re getting impatient. it’s obnoxious; you’re not able to run any errands (let alone actually go out and enjoy your day off) and you’re just waiting around for some dude to actually do the job you’ve been asking for for weeks.

just as you find yourself dialing the landlord’s number, you hear a knock at your door. fucking FINALLY. you jump off your couch, mind spewing profanities out of frustration. you walk towards the door, ready to give this stupid maintenance man a piece of your mind. you swing open the door, and your heart drops.

the maintenance man stands before you, with a tight black tank that hugged his muscular build and dirty worn jeans. he has a tool belt strapped to his (surprisingly small?) waist and a heavy tool box gripped in his hand. he’s a little dirty, and his chest is shiny with sweat due to the humid outside air. his rugged exterior is a huge juxtaposition to his face, however, with sharp yet kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“you need some maintenance done?” he asks.

“oh, uh, yes,” you stumble, suddenly at a loss for words. “come on in.” you hold the door open, allowing him to walk through to your living room.

“so you’re having issues with your water pressure?” he says, looking around the apartment.

“yeah, that and a few other things,” you reply. “but the biggest thing is the window unit in my room. it doesn’t blow any cold air.”

“i can fix that,” he looks at you with a grin. “which one’s the bedroom?”

you walk him to your room, thanking god he can’t see the blush forming on your face. he walks in and places his tool box down, promptly inspecting the window unit.

“i’ll just let you do your thing,” you say, twiddling your thumbs. “i’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

he nods, and you go back to sit on your couch. you mindlessly scroll through your phone, all while spiraling in your head. did your landlord hire this guy from a fucking modeling agency? he has the build for handyman work, that is certain. however, his face is what’s really getting to you. he could be on the cover of vogue and you wouldn’t bat an eye. but there he is, working on a shitty a/c window unit in your room.

you suddenly become hyper aware of the appearance of your bedroom. what does he think about your decor? is he cringing at the plushies sat on your bed? what if you left a pair of underwear out? oh my god, did you leave your nightstand drawer open, with your vibrator out for the whole world to see?

“it looks like you’ll need a whole new window unit,” he says from your room, interrupting your swarming thoughts. “this one doesn’t even have heat, and you’ll need that for winter.”

“oh, yeah,” you say, getting up and standing in your bedroom doorway. “how long will it take to get a new one? this heat has been brutal.”

“i should be able to bring one tomorrow, if you’re available,” he says, turning back to look at you as he closes up the tool box.

“i’m available,” you say all too quick. dude. be cool. “i mean, yeah, i can try to get off work a little earlier, maybe at like 3?”

“works for me,” he smiles, standing up. “can i get your number?”

you can’t hide your blush this time, nodding at the insinuation, but knowing it was just to iron out arrangements. “here,” you say, opening your phone messages so he can send himself a text.

he types away and hands your phone back. “you need a new dishwasher too, right?”

“i do,” you confirm.

“i can try and get you one by tomorrow too,” he says. “i’m off duty by like 5, so hopefully i’ll have enough time. now the shower?”

you nod and lead him to your bathroom. he examines the shower head, and you watch your cat approach him from behind.

“oh my god,” he says, startled at your cat rubbing against his leg. “this little dude came out of nowhere!” he reaches down to pet him, all while he’s purring up a storm.

“wow, he really likes you,” you stand shocked. your cat is always so standoffish to strangers, usually hiding under your bed or couch. but he’s rubbing against your maintenance man’s legs like he’s best friends with him.

“cats tend to really like me, i don’t know why,” he chuckles, scratching at your cat’s head. “what’s his name?”

“leo,” you say.

“like the zodiac sign?” he looks up at you while still petting him.

“yeah, i wanted to name him after his own sign but he’s a cancer, soooo…” you trail off, awkwardly fiddling with your hands.

“i’m a cancer!” he lights up, looking back down at leo. “no wonder we get along.”

you smile, and then realize you’re staring again. “i’ll go back in here so you can work.”

after distracting yourself with your phone again for a bit, you look up and see the man starting to walk out the bathroom doorway, already with his things together.

“okay, it should be good now, but let me know tomorrow if there’s any issues,” he says. you nod to him and lead him to the front door. you open the door and he walks out, but turns to you before he leaves. “so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” he has a smile on his face, with a hint of something behind it that you can’t quite read.

“yeah, tomorrow,” you say.

after locking the door behind him, you slump onto the couch with a big sigh. that was somehow the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever experienced. you remember he texted himself on your phone, so you open your messages and see the unsaved number.

sent 12:28 pm this is san :)

you can feel heat rising to your cheeks. even a stupid smiley face in a text has got you kicking your feet. you text him back, telling him your name and a quick thank you.

dear lord. this man didn’t even do anything, but he will be the death of you.

you come home early the next day, even earlier than you mentioned. partly because you wanted to clean up your place a bit, but the other part to mentally prepare yourself for a hot man in your apartment again. you clean up your room, tidying up so it looks a tad better than it did the day prior. once you’re done, you find yourself fixing up your makeup, realizing you’re putting way too much effort into seeing a fucking handyman fix your a/c.

are you really doing this? intentionally getting dolled up for this?? haha never! right….?

you hear a knock at your door and jump up. you check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the gloss on your lips. you go to open the door to reveal san, standing in front of you again with a familiar sweet smile on his face. you smile back too eagerly.

“i got your window unit!” he says, nodding down to the large box in his hands.

“oh, come in, that must be heavy!” you say, ushering him into your living room.

“mind if i go in your room?” he asks.

“of course, please,” you say, opening your bedroom door and letting him set the box down. you attempt to subtly watch his arms flex as he drops it. oh my god he is so hot.

you retreat to the living room as usual, allowing him to work in peace. you work on some things on your laptop to pass the time, but the thought of this man working on your a/c, muscles protruding, sweat glistening… it’s all too much of a distraction. you decide to put your ear buds in, trying to drown out your own perverse thoughts. you finally are able to hone in on your work, catching up on the things you couldn’t finish during your shift today since you left early.

you don’t realize that san finished installing the window unit until you feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

“oh!” you stammer, pulling an ear bud out. “sorry, what’s up?”

san has a smile creeping on his face. “my bad, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to let you know i finished putting in the unit.”

“that’s great, thank you so much,” you say, standing up. “did you get the dishwasher today too?”

“yeah i did,” he says, but then he checks his phone for the time. you realize it’s about to hit 5 pm, and he said he’s off by that time.

“you’re almost off, i forgot,” you say apologetically. “you can just come back another day?”

he checks his phone again, contemplating. “well… i mean i already have it in my truck, so i don’t mind working a little bit over my time.”

“you really don’t have to, san,” you plead.

“it’s okay,” he says. “i’ll be right back with it!”

he exits your apartment, giving you a moment to kick yourself. having a dishwasher that works would be so great right now, but you feel guilty for having him work past his time. another part of you wants him to go anyway, if it meant he would come back again.

you hear a loud noise outside your front door, so you open it to see san with the new dishwasher on a dolly. you hold the door open for him, allowing him to enter your apartment and bee-line to the kitchen. he props the dolly down to drop the box.

“i should be able to finish this in about an hour, is that okay?” he asks, already unboxing it.

“as long as you’re okay with working this late,” you shrug.

“i don’t mind at all,” he smiles, looking up at you.

“okay, i’ll just be in here,” you point behind you, gesturing to the living room.

“alright, dishwasher is done,” san says, walking into the living room with a broken down empty box in one hand and dolly in the other.

“thank you so much,” you smile.

“is there anything else you need then?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.

a moment of silence washes over the room momentarily, with you wracking your brain trying to find a reason for him to stay longer. but you push that away, knowing he’s been working way too long past his scheduled time.

“no, i think that will do it,” you sigh, unintentionally sounding disappointed.

“well,” he mumbles, toying with the box in his hand. “well you have my number, so if you need anything, feel free to shoot me a text.”

you walk him to the door, thanking him. he stands out in the hallway, you looking at him out your front door.

“really though,” he insists. “if you need anything.” with one last sweet smile, he leaves.

so what does he mean by that? “anything.” maybe you’re delusional for thinking there’s a hidden meaning behind that statement. as in, you can text him if you want him to fuck your brains out, “anything?” definitely not, but your mind wanders at the thought of it; that he’d drop everything and book it back to your apartment, heaving and sweaty, ready to take what’s his. you’re actually fucking crazy.

and to make yourself even crazier, the next few days you find yourself itching to get another reason to have him come back. you check your kitchen sink’s water pressure, it’s fine. you test out the stove for the first time and it cooked your food perfectly, no gas smell. then you find something. one of your kitchen drawers won’t close completely. it’s something small, but enough to put in a maintenance request. for the first time since you moved in, you feel grateful you live in a shitty apartment.

you swing the door open, happy to see the cute grin san always gives you the moment he sees you.

“sooo… a drawer, huh?” he quips with a hint of a teasing tone.

“y-yeah, i tried to fix it but i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” you defend, rubbing the back of your neck.

“i can fix that,” he says, passing into the kitchen, tool box in hand. you’re ready to retreat to your living room as usual, but san stops you. “you know, you don’t have to wait around in your living room for me to finish. i like having company.”

“oh,” you mumble, turning around. “i thought you might want privacy while you work.”

“no, it’s okay,” he says, opening his tool box to grab a few items. “if you wanted, you can hang around. i like learning about the tenants i’m working for.”

“okay,” you murmur. you open a kitchen cabinet to grab two mugs. “do you want some tea?”

“i would love some tea,” he says.

you put the kettle on the stove, heating up some water. you chat with san about work, how many units he has to visit in a day, about the interesting tenants he meets, how long he’s been doing this. once the kettle starts whistling, san is already finished fixing the drawer, placing it back into it’s assigned slot. you can’t help but feel disappointed that your time with him is almost up. you put the tea bags in the mugs of hot water, offering one to san.

“i know you’re done, but if you still want it,” you say, and he accepts the drink with a grin. you both sit at your kitchen table, continuing to chat. your cat leo enters the kitchen, going to straight to san’s legs to rub against him.

“there’s my boy,” san coos, scratching leo’s head.

“i still can’t get over how much he likes you,” you laugh. “he’s never this friendly, he’s only like this with me.”

“he seems friendly to me,” san says. “maybe he just has good taste in people.”

you chuckle, wondering in the back of your mind if he meant that about you too.

san checks his phone, realizing the time. he sets down his tea and stands. “i should probably get out of here, there’s another tenant waiting for me.”

“i didn’t mean to keep you—”

“no no,” san interrupts. “it’s okay. i really liked this. not a lot of people are this welcoming.”

“of course,” you reply, standing up with him. “i—i really liked this too.”

san smiles, biting a bit at his lip. you look at each other for a moment, feeling an intriguing tension in the air. he finally shakes head, going to grab his things to go. you walk him to your front door. you say another thank you, about to close the door.

“like i said,” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “anything.”

you hadn’t seen san in over a week. it was driving you mad. you became addicted to his energy, to his warm greeting at your front door, to the lingering gazes you shared. you didn’t have any reason to see him again, and you needed to find another. so you did something you’re not entirely proud of… something that an actual crazy person would do. you loosened a bolt on a pipe under your kitchen sink, allowing water to trickle the smallest amount in the lower cabinet.

listen. you know it’s bizarre at this point, but you had to see him again. it’s not like anything would happen; he’d probably just fix it up, have another nice chat with you, and be on his way. is it so bad that you meddled with your sink just to see him?

when san arrives, he has that all-knowing grin on his face the moment you open the door.

“the sink now, hm?” he asks.

“yeah,” you chuckle anxiously. “the sink.”

he goes to the kitchen and inspects the pipes under the sink. you lean against the counter, hoping to god he doesn’t notice that the pipe didn’t magically get loose.

“ah i see,” he laughs to himself. “it’s just a loose bolt. easy fix.” he tightens it with his tools, quickly finishing.

“oh, haha,” you say, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “i guess i could’ve done that.”

“you know, it’s so interesting…” he trails off, standing up to face you, running a hand through his hair.

“what?” you ask.

“i’ve never had to do so much maintenance work for one tenant before,” he says, sly grin across his face. fuck. do you think he knows?

“and i swear, that bolt kinda looked like it was loosened by a wrench…” he trails off again, stepping closer to you. HE KNOWS.

“n-no, i would never,” you defend, feeling backed against the counter.

your eyes are locked on san, wandering over his built frame, over his sharp features. he’s inching closer and closer, and you feel your breath hitch. he catches your trailing eyes as if to ask for permission, and leans in to kiss you.

finally, the thing you’ve been wanting so bad from him, to feel his lips against yours. he cups your cheek with one hand, letting you melt into his touch. your lips part to allow his tongue to slide in, deepening the kiss with fervor. his form pushes against yours, pressing you against the kitchen counter. his hands begin to wander, grazing from the side of your face down to your waist. he holds you in a tight grip, pulling your hips forward to meet his. you can feel him harden in his jeans as he lets out a groan against your lips.

“you did this on purpose, hm?” san says, separating from your lips. he lifts you up and places you to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. he kneels to the floor, grabbing at the waist of your pants. “just to see me?”

you nod emphatically, watching as he pulls down your pants and underwear. the cold air hits your core and you try to close your legs, but san pushes them back open to admire you. putting your legs over his shoulders, he runs his fingers against your folds, eyes drinking in the sight of you. you shudder at the feeling, knowing all too well that he’s already got you soaked.

“you like seeing me like this?” he whispers, looking up at you. “i bet you imagined me like this, between your legs.” when his fingertips graze over your clit, your body lets out a shake, and he knows he found what he wanted.

he attaches his mouth to your core and places a firm hold on your outer thighs. licking stripes up to your clit, each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven. he dips down to your hole, dragging your slick upwards. he moans at the taste of you, devouring at you with more passion. your hands grasp at his hair, relishing the stimulation.

he tugs his head back, looking as pussy-drunk as ever. “i imagined you like this too,” he moans, lips still hovering over you. you unintentionally tug at his hair, yearning for his mouth back on you. “i wanted you so bad the moment i saw you.”

he releases a hand off your thigh and snakes it back between your legs, teasing at your hole as he goes back to circle his tongue around your clit. he looks up at you as he slides his middle finger in, watching you crumble at the feeling. once he can tell you’re comfortable, he slides in another, slowly starting to pump them into you. you whimper at the feeling, walls contracting around his fingers.

your moans are uncontrollable, and he matches them, letting the vibrations enhance the stimulation. he curls his fingers into you, hitting that perfect spot. he can feel your core clenching more erratically, causing him to pick up the pace, but maintaining a steady rhythm. his tongue flicks at your clit just right, making you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten the grip on his hair.

“s-san,” you let out. “i’m gonna cum.”

he detaches from you briefly, still finger fucking you. “cum for me, baby, i want to taste you.” he immediately latches back onto you, eating you like his life depends on it.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, feeling like chills. you’re shaking now, unable to control the sheer amount of bliss your body is experiencing. you moan out to san, coming undone on his tongue. he continues to work at you, allowing you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm.

he finally disconnects from you, pulling out his fingers coated in your essence. he licks them clean, looking up at you with the same look of desire. he stands up, promptly placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. you can taste yourself on his fucked-out lips, and it makes it that much hotter. you can hear him fumbling with his belt, and your hands reach down to help. you place your palm over his bulge, it twitching at the contact.

san separates from you, letting out a heavy sigh. he pulls himself out from his underwear, rubbing the tip at your spent pussy. he looks down and lets a string of his spit hit his throbbing cock, spreading it around the expanse of it with his hand. he angles himself into you, and slowly starts pushing in. you gasp at the size, him stretching you out much more than his fingers initially did. he takes it slow, acknowledging the whimpers leaving your lips.

once he’s fully inside, he groans. “god, you’re so fucking tight.”

he watches himself enter you as he starts rolling his hips into you. he places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you towards him for a messy kiss. he starts to pick up his pace, earning a sharp hiss on his lips in between kisses.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs to you. “i knew you would feel good.”

you moan in response, completely unable to form any words. all you know is that the stretch of his cock is deliciously painful, and the sweet kisses he’s peppering over your neck gives you goosebumps all over. you can’t even believe this is happening right now, that your fantasy of fucking your maintenance man is coming true, and it feels even better than you imagined.

“you wanted this so bad,” san teases, continuing to piston into you. “for me to fuck you like this. you probably imagined it, touching yourself the moment i left.”

and he’s right, you found yourself needy and horny after every visit he made. you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your vibrator and pretending he was the one fucking you, not yourself. but the feeling of the real thing was much different, much more euphoric. to have his chest heaving in front of you, sweat beading on his temple, desperate energy emanating from his body, saying i want to have all of you.

suddenly, he lifts you from the kitchen counter, holding your thighs firmly with his cock still in you. something about the fact that he can completely hold you up, still bouncing you on him even… you feel like his little play toy that he’s throwing around. he takes you to the bedroom, dropping you down on your bed and landing on top of you.

he wastes no time in sliding back into you, desperate to continue feeling your tight walls around him. his body is hovering over yours, your legs tangled as he thrusts into you. he pecks around your neck, hand ghosting over your throat as if seeking permission. you place your hand over his, allowing him to choke you until you’re lost in a euphoric haze.

his thrusts become more intense and forceful, each stroke sending chills down your spine as his length reaches deeper inside you. you swear you’re shaking the whole bed, the headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall. you’re so clouded by pleasure that you barely even notice he’s fucking you so hard that he’s pushing a dent into the wall from your bed frame.

“i can fix that,” san whispers with a smile, not even bothering to stop.

you let out a chuckle, then press a soft kiss to his lips. his hips begin to slow, as though he’s really taking his time to melt into you, to feel every part of you. he then lifts up to hit a new angle inside you, gripping your waist and slamming your hips into his with powerful, deliberate motions. you move your hand to your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. your vision blurs, tears starting to well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me?” san asks, sensing the irregular pulsing of your core. you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between your teeth. “cum on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”

your orgasm builds to a peak and then cascades over you, sending you into a state of pure bliss. san is still fucking into you, extending your orgasm while still chasing his own. it’s not until his hips begin to falter that you feel him shoot ropes of his cum into you, filling you completely. his moans echo yours, his hips gradually slowing until he finally comes to a stop.

he pulls out of you, falling next to you on the bed. the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as it gradually returns to a normal pace. you look at each other, smiling with a shared understanding of the unexpected moment you just experienced. he wraps his arm around you, drawing your head to his chest to where you can hear his heartbeat.

“sooo…” you chuckle softly, pointing at the dent in your wall. “you’re gonna fix that, right?”

san grins, pulling you closer. “i mean, i can, but then i’d have no reason to come back tomorrow.”

“now that i think of it,” you say, chuckling. “i think there’s probably a few more things that could be fixed…”

“anything you need,” he says. “anything.”

a/n: guys this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoyed it too!! something about san lately oml... plz leave feeback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

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eccentricwritingbaby · 5 months ago

Text

baby finn series, the godfather

lando norris x wife!mom!reader

series masterlist

summary - a collection of max fewtrell's importance to your son as his favorite godfather.

masterlist

the big question

“y’know i’ve been thinking,” lando mumbles into your stomach, the comfortable home of baby finn as he grows at just four months, “we should figure out godparents,” your husband suggests.

“oh yeah,” you sigh, continuing your motions of combing lando’s hair with your fingers as his head rests on your chest in order to have his nightly conversation with the baby, “we’ve been so wrapped up in names, i haven’t even thought about godparents,”

“i know,” lando shrugs, moving his hand gently up and down your bump, “should we do siblings or friends?”

“hmm,” you think to yourself before voicing your opinion, “i think friends,” you feel your husband nod his head in agreement, “i mean our siblings already have a place in our baby’s life, we should involve our friends in a more meaningful manner,”

“i agree,” lando nods again, “do you mind if i pick the godfather, and then you could pick the godmother?”

“already itching to ask max, huh?” you giggle as your husband joins in with your laughter.

“how’d you know?” he asks sarcastically as you continue your laughs.

“do you wanna ask him tomorrow when he comes over to stream?” with that question, lando’s ears perk up in excitement as he moves his head off your chest in order to meet your eyes.

“yes!” he exclaims, “who are you gonna ask?” he questions, leaning in quickly to peck your lips as you think for a moment, “y/b/f/n?”

“yeah, that’s what i was thinking, she’s really been there for me with the pregnancy and we’ve been best friends forever,”

“invite her over tomorrow,” lando suggests, “her and max get on well, we can all have dinner after max and i stream and we’ll ask them,” you nod at his request, beginning to pull out your phone to text her and invite her over tomorrow. she replies quickly that she’s free and would love to come. you show lando the text as you smile together in triumph and excitement.

the next day, max had come around four in the afternoon in order to stream for a few hours. you could hear the boys yelling and laughing while live as you moved around the nursery, sorting through different items. a few moments later, the knock on your door brings butterflies to your stomach, nerves rattling you about your question later.

“hi!!” you giggle as your best friend greets you with a hug after opening the door, “i’m just getting some stuff together in the nursery before i start dinner, wanna help?”

“of course!” she cries out, “i can’t wait to see all the new stuff you got since i’ve been here last,”

“oh my gosh, so much,” you smile, “lando’s mom stopped by a few days ago with a bunch of things, that’s what i’m mainly sorting now,”

“ugh, that’s so sweet,” she holds a hand over her heart as you begin to walk back towards the nursery, “are they live in there?”

“i think so,”

“is it just fewtrell and lando?”

“yeah,”

“i’m gonna pop in really quick to say hi,”

“okay, just meet me in the nursery,”

after a plethora of clothes and toys sorted, two different video games conquered, you head to the kitchen in order to prepare dinner.

“oh how i’ve missed your cooking, y/n,” max sighs out, rubbing his stomach as him and lando enter the kitchen. he hops onto the barstool at the counter next to your best friend as lando makes his way towards you, placing a gentle kiss to your neck.

“and i’ve missed you eating all our food, fewtrell,” you bite back quickly, pointing your spoon at him jokingly.

“need any help, baby?” lando quietly asks you, a hand coming up to run over your stomach.

“i think i’m fine, it’s almost ready,” you turn a bit, kissing his cheek in appreciation, “you wanna get them drinks?”

“what are you guys drinking?” lando directs to your friends.

“i’m drinking double for miss momma over there,” your best friend laughs, waving a finger at you.

“i think that’s my job,” lando jokes along with her, “if i have to put up with the hormones, i get to drink double,”

“hey!” you exclaim with a small hit to your husband’s stomach, “i haven’t been that bad,” you look up from the food and find three pairs of eyes staring back at you with raised eyebrows, “what?”

“oh honey…” your best friend trails off, “lando’s a saint,”

“wow,” you sigh out, “i’m rethinking my decision right now,”

“what decision?” max asks, cracking three beers open and passing them around.

“well,” you pause and glance at lando, him giving you a slight nod to keep going, “we had ulterior motives in inviting you both here tonight,”

“a foursome?” your best friend jokes, “listen, guys, you’re great but i don’t see you like that-”

“shut up,” you cut her off with a laugh, “we were hoping you’d be baby norris’ godparents,” you and lando look at them, hope buzzing around you that they’d accept.

“oh my god…” fewtrell trails off, a hand coming to cover his mouth in disbelief.

“yes! a thousand times yes!” your best friend cries out beside him.

“what she said!” max joins in, both of them sliding off the barstools and running around the counter to hug the both of you.

their first meeting

“hey mate, yeah she did great,” you hear lando mumbling into his phone as you continue to coo at the little baby boy in your arms, “why don’t you drop by? i’m sure she’ll be okay with it,” with that new sentence, you tear your eyes away from finn and meet lando’s gaze. he mouths a quick ‘max’ and you nod in approval to his visitation, “alright, we’ll see you soon,”

“max fewtrell, right?” you ask once your husband gets off the phone. he nods at your question, moving to be right back by your side, adoring his baby boy and his gorgeous wife.

“i don’t think verstappen is itching to see him like fewtrell is,” lando giggles as his hand comes up to brush some hair out of your eyes, “you did so good, love,” after the praise, he leans in for a kiss, happily reciprocated by you.

“thank you, lan,” you breath out, “when will max be here?”

“about an hour,” he answers quietly, still adoring the little baby in front of him, “do you want to nap?”

“you read my mind, love,” relief lacing your tired voice as you begin to hand finn off to his father, “just wake me a few minutes before max arrives, please,”

“of course, get some rest, baby,” he holds finn in his arm with one hand as his other comes to pull the blankets higher onto your body. leaning over slightly, careful of the newborn in his arms, he pecks your lips lightly before you fall asleep.

forty-five minutes later, you’re gently being shaken awake, finn safely in his hospital-given bassinet, “baby,” lando quietly speaks, careful not to startle you or wake the baby.

“is max almost here?” you groggily ask, beginning to rub the sleep from your eye.

“yes, love, in about ten minutes,” he assures you.

“okay, is finn alright?”

“sleeping happily beside you,”

“thank you, does he need to be fed?”

“the nurse said that your next feeding would be in another hour,”

“okay,” you let out a breath, “will you help me up? i want to change before he comes,”

“oh baby, you don’t have to change for him, just relax,” lando pushes, but you just look down at your shirt and up at him.

“lan, i appreciate that, i really do,” you start, “but my tits leaked milk in my sleep, i’m soaked,”

“oh,” lando laughs, you joining him, “okay let me get you a new shirt,”

after you had changed into your clean and dry shirt, you scooped up your baby boy just as max begins to walk into the room. he’s holding a large bottle of champagne in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

“hiii,” he whispers out into the room, “congratulations,” you keep quiet, letting your husband share this moment with his best friend.

“thanks for coming, mate,” lando walks over to him, pulling him into a brief hug.

“are you kidding? i wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he laughs, “these are for you,” he waves the flowers around before setting them down on the table next to you, “and this is for you too,” he waves the bottle of champagne as well, “for the sleepless nights,” he finishes with a wink.

“that is so sweet, max, you didn’t have to do that,” you reply to his thoughtful gesture.

“of course i did,”

“no i mean the champagne,” you nod in its direction on your bedside table, “that won’t be opened for months, i’m breastfeeding,”

“oh,” he retracts a bit before picking it up and moving towards your husband, “this is for you-”

“shut up,” lando laughs, grabbing the bottle and setting it down, “do you want to meet him?”

“yes,” he whispers out, eyes turning back to you and the bundle of joy in your arms.

“c’mere,” you usher him over, moving the baby into his arms as he begins to melt at the sight.

“he’s adorable,” max croaks out, emotions overflowing as he stares down at his godson, “thank god he takes after you, y/n,” you and lando share a laugh, and you eye your husband, urging him to tell his best friend the news.

“um,” lando starts, moving to sit next to you on your bed, “do you want to know his name?”

“yes,” max replies quickly, his eyes never leaving the newborn in his arms.

“its uh,” lando coughs, clearing his throat from nerves, “finn maxwell norris,”

“what?” fewtrell stares at your husband in disbelief, tears beginning to form in his waterline.

“you heard me, mate,” lando nods his head, emotions clouding his face as well.

“oh my go- oh my god,” max stutters out, eyes now moving back down to finn, “you are named after such a great guy,” he jokes, causing erupted laughter throughout the hospital room.

babysitting

“okay, you’ve got the list right there with his schedule,” you point out to max, finn running around in circles with lando chasing right behind him, “and you’ve got everyone's numbers that you need,”

“i think so,” max nods, “i think i still have your mom’s from last time,”

“okay good,” you nod, “if there’s a real emergency and we can’t be reached call lando’s dad first, he’s closest,”

“got it,” max states, “you know i’ve done this a lot, y/n. i’ve been babysitting him since he was a newborn, now he’s three,”

“so you know i’m a paranoid first time mother,” you laugh at him, “i have to go through the motions,”

“i know, but he’ll be fine,” max laughs, pulling you into a hug, “i haven’t killed him yet,”

“very true,”

“and i’m more responsible than your husband over there,” fewtrell nods his head in the direction of lando and finn, running around like madmen in the living room, cackling with each other at their antics.

“you are so right,” you laugh at the scene in front of you, “alright norris!” you call out, both your boys whipping their heads in your direction, “the big one,” you clarify, “we’ve got to go,”

“right, right,” he agrees, bending down to give finn the talk about behavior. after a few ‘yes dada’s’ and giggles shared between the two, your husband is walking over to your place at the door, “ready?”

“yes, love,” you give him a quick peck to the cheek, “finn?”

“momma?” he asks from his spot in between max’s legs.

“best behavior?”

“yes, momma,” he nods, gripping onto max as you just smile at him, “alright, we’ll be back late, max the guest room is all set up for you,”

“i know the drill, y/n,” he laughs at you.

“paranoid mother, remember?” you direct back.

“yes, i will check in on the hour if i have to,”

“much appreciated, mate,” lando finishes the conversation, pushing you out the door, “we’ll see you tonight,”

the door shuts behind you and lando, max now bending over to meet the little blue eyes staring back up at him.

“are we playing monster tonight?” he asks the little boy.

“MONSTA!” finn screeches in excitement, running towards the living room and away from max as he starts chasing him.

“i’m gonna get you!” fewtrell screams out as he chases finn, “monsters coming!”

“NOO!” your baby cries out, laughter evident in the home as the two boys continue the chase.

that night, you and lando arrive back to a dark home, holding each other up a bit as you were both carrying a slight alcohol buzz. you giggle into lando’s lips as they continue their attack on your own.

“lan,” you laugh into his mouth, “mmph, save it for the bedroom,”

“i can’t help it my wife looks so so good tonight,” he replies, voice in a dropped octave, his hands grabbing your ass with no shame.

“mm,” you hum again into his mouth, “and my husband looks fantastic every night,”

“that’s not fair,” he laughs, one hand moving to grab your chest as his other hand stays on your bum, “i think you look good every night too, you one upped my compliment,”

“well, i’m sorry,” you feign innocence, “why don’t you just show me how beautiful i am every night,”

“oh baby, i plan on it,”

“c’mon let’s go to our room,” you begin to drag him down the hall, but not without halting your movements due to the slightly ajar door to your right. lando, still kind of tipsy, runs right into your back as you’re stopped.

“what, y/n?”

“look,” you nod your head into the room, lando following your gaze, his glossed over eyes softening at the sight.

“they’re so cute,” he laughs from behind you. you both take another moment, staring into your guest room at max and finn passed out in the bed together. max was pushed onto the left side with finn’s little body sprawled across him, “should i move finn into his room?”

“no, let them sleep,” you turn your attention towards your husband again, “you owe me some compliments in the bedroom,” you grab lando’s hand and start your way to the bedroom once again.

“i like the sound of that, love,” he whispers in giggles, you both a tipsy mess, running to your room.

running away

“FINN!” you yell at your four year old, “i told you to pick up and put away your toys two hours ago, what is this?”

“i don’t wannnaa,” he whines, stomping his foot down.

“i don’t care,” you firmly push, “put away your toys now. otherwise your father will hear about this when he gets back,”

“i’m not gonna,” he huffs out, crossing his arms over his little chest, challenging you to break.

“fine,” you turn away from him and to the mess littered across your entire apartment, taking in a deep breath before you did snap, “wait until your father gets home,” finn doesn’t like the sound of this, beginning to cry and run away to his room, “DON’T SLAM THAT DOOR!” you shout down the hall. bang. it slammed. you breathe one more time, and wait for lando to walk through the door and handle his mini-me.

you were five months pregnant, and too exhausted to deal with his temper tantrum. finn was always a good kid, and the tantrums were never often. but when they came, they came in hard. it was usually after not enough sleep, or not enough food, but only a few times a year, thankfully. you and lando always joked that all the built up little tantrums he didn’t have morph into a few gigantic ones a year.

finally after an hour you hear the front door open, heaving yourself up and off the couch, you make your way into lando’s arms.

“hey, baby,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around you as you just sink further into him, “what’s wrong?”

“finn, he’s having a tantrum day,” you sigh, waving one of your arms not wrapped around your husband to the mess that was your home, “he wouldn’t pick up his toys, he screamed, cried, slammed the door,” you breathe out, letting your emotions finally wash over you since your rock was finally home. lando wraps his arms around you tighter, letting you finally calm down a little. he sways you a bit as he hears you fight the tears back, rubbing your shoulder.

“i’m sorry, love,” he tries to calm you, “i’ll talk to him, okay?” you nod your head in his chest, “are you alright?”

“better now that you’re here,” you mumble, “i’m sorry i had to welcome you home like this-”

“hey, hey,” he stops you quickly, “don’t apologize, i’m gonna talk to him,” lando leads you back over to the couch, propping your feet up and then moving towards his son’s room.

knocking twice on the door, he hears a quiet, but stern, ‘come in’.

“hey, bubs,” lando greets the four year old, “i heard about today,” your husband tries to talk to finn, but he won’t look away from the coloring book he’s using, sprawled across the floor, “finn,” lando puts sharper, but finn just keeps coloring.

lando rolls his eyes quickly, moving towards his son and grabbing the coloring book from him.

“HEY!” finn shouts at his dad.

“now i’ve got your attention?” lando asks him, “i should’ve had your attention when i called your name the first time- actually, your mother should have had your attention when she asked you to complete a simple task!” your husband begins to raise his voice at finn, not shouting, but definitely not coddling the boy.

“but dada-” he begins to whine.

“no finn, no ‘buts’. you have been very bad today and you owe your mother an apology,” lando stands in front of him, hands on hips, and finn just continues to whine on the floor, “get up, finn, go apologize and clean up your toys,” he watches as his son doesn’t move an inch, “NOW!” he shouts, but the young four year old is unbothered.

“no, i go live with uncle max!” he shouts back, now getting up to grab his small suitcase.

“finn maxwell norris,” lando gives his warning tone to the boy, the one that usually scares the shit out of him, but he just keeps packing, “fine, go live with him,” he attempts to call his sons bluff, moving out of the room and back to his wife on the couch.

“what happened? i heard you yelling,” you ask lando as he sits down with a sigh, wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer.

“i hate yelling at him, i do, it’s just when he gets like this-”

“i know, lan,” you reassure him, “i think we got blessed with such a sweet boy on most days that his hard days are worse than normal,”

“he says he’s moving in with max,” lando chuckles, “i’d love to see him go one night without our goodnight cuddles to him,”

you laugh along with your husband before adding on, “or he’ll come out of his tantrum fog and realize he misses his parents that he loves so much,”

“for sure,” he giggles with you, just as your son stomps out of his room and towards the door.

“where ya going, finn?” you ask in innocence, already knowing the answer.

“to live with uncle max,” he huffs out. even in his terrible mood, you can’t help but find him just a bit adorable.

“okay,” your husband speaks to him, both of you beginning to get up and walk towards the door, “have fun,” lando opens the door, watching your son walk one door down the hall and knock. the door creaks open, max looking down at the little boy and his suitcase.

“was there a sleepover i didn’t know about?” he asks you and lando as you watch from your doorway.

“oh no,” your husband laughs, “finn tell him,”

“i move in with you,” he grunts out, making his way towards max.

“i’m sorry, what?” fewtrell looks at the both of you again, searching for some sort of answer.

“oh yeah,” you nod, “he wants to live with you now,”

“um,” max starts, letting the little boy walk through his legs and into his apartment, “okay?”

“don’t worry, mate,” lando laughs, “he’ll be back tomorrow,”

“i’m sure,” max agrees, “the kid hates the food in my house,”

“that’s because you have no food in your house, fewtrell,” you laugh.

“and that’s why i alway eat dinner at your house, y/l/n,”

“and that’s why i don’t feel bad about my kid crashing with you tonight,” you jab back. you all say your goodnights and head back into your respective apartments, you and lando heading straight to bed after the long day.

three in the morning and the pounding on your door is not from your dream. you and lando shuffle out of bed and towards the door, already knowing who is on the other side. your husband swings the door open, coming face to face with his teary-eyed son. max is standing there, clearly half asleep, and holding the boy up by his waist.

“this belongs to you,” he mumbles out, pushing finn into lando’s arms and tossing his suitcase past you both and into your home. you both are too tired to even say goodnight, choosing instead to shut the door and head directly back to your bedroom.

“tomorrow morning finn,” you start as you all climb into bed together, “you’re cleaning and apologizing,”

“i know, momma. i sowwy,” he curls up beside lando, your husbands arm instinctively wrapping around his son.

“we’ll worry about that tomorrow, baby,” lando kisses his and your forehead’s, falling back into his sleep as quick as he was brought out of it.

“uncle max had no food momma,” finn quietly admits, causing you to let out a few giggles.

“goodnight, finn, dada and i are happy you’re back home,”

“me too, momma,”

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sailortongue · 5 months ago

Text

Unexpected Consequences

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: a temporary lapse in judgment results in a drunken one-night stand with unexpected consequences

wc: 2.1k

cw: accidental pregnancy, implied sex. if there's anything you think should be added lmk!

navi | k.s. mlist | series mlist

----------

“You’re out!” Shouted the umpire. It was the visiting team's third player to strike out, signaling the end of the last inning of the championship game and a massive win for the Giants.

The locker room was alive with the sounds of laughter and celebration from the players. They did it. They had won the title. “We should go out tonight,” suggested the pitcher. Some of the players declined, citing that they were beat after the game. But Kenji was on a high from the win, his ego thriving like never before (and that was saying something).

“Got a place in mind?” Kenji asked. And that was how he found himself sitting on a barstool with a handful of his teammates, mostly the younger ones. He felt like he was on top of the world. He was young, successful, good looking, and one of the greatest living baseball players. And now, he had a shiny new title to brag about. Life couldn’t possibly be any better.

Except, maybe, if the pretty girl across the bar would give him her attention. He could see you from where he was sitting, and he found himself frequently glancing in your direction. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. His teammate Shiroki leaned over to see what, or rather who, had so completely captured the attention of their star player. He clapped Kenji on the shoulder, laughing. “Should’ve known it was a pretty girl that’s got you ignoring us!”

“I wasn’t ignoring you!” Kenji protested, his face growing red after he’d been called out for all ears in the establishment to hear. Including yours. When he glanced once more in your direction, you were looking back. You gave him a small, polite smile before returning your attention to the cellphone in your hand. Your expression was one of dejectedness as you sighed and placed your phone face down on the bar top.

Amidst the teasing of his teammates (that truthfully he was ignoring in favor of you), he took a swig of his drink and decided to bite the bullet. If not now then never. He hopped off of his stool and walked over to you. “Is this seat taken?” He asked, gesturing to the empty stool next to you.

“You tell me since you’ve been watching since I sat down,” you said with a playful twinkle in your eyes.

Kenji cringed. So you had noticed even before Shiroki practically shouted it to the entire bar. He scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly, head hung low in shame and embarrassment as he struggled to find the words to redeem himself. He settled for a simple “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You seemed taken aback by his words, not having expected him to own up to his actions and be respectful. “Thank you,” you said. He was handsome—that much was obvious. But it was this that really caught your attention. “So, are you going to sit or not?” You asked.

Kenji grinned and took the place next to you, angling his body towards yours rather than the countertop. He stuck his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Kenji.”

“I’m Yn,” you responded, taking his offer for a handshake to find that his hand completely engulfed yours.

The two of you ended up talking on and on, having drink after drink and gradually getting to know each other. You learned that he was an athlete celebrating a win with his team and that he’d only moved back to Japan a few months ago. Kenji learned that the reason you were here alone is because you were supposed to be meeting someone but they never showed up. “His loss,” Kenji had said. “Any man to stand up a woman as pretty as you is a fool.”

He complimented you continuously throughout the night, his honeyed words sending heat to both your face and your core. As the night wore on, his teammates came up to him to wish him a good night and inform him that they were leaving for the night. It was getting late, but neither of you were ready to leave each other's company.

“Do you wanna go back to my place?” Kenji asked, his hand on your thigh leaving no room for doubt as to what he was offering.

The alcohol in your system had long since excised your inhibitions, including any form of higher thinking. All you could focus on was Kenji’s hand on your thigh and how much you wanted it somewhere else. Somewhere higher. You accepted his offer with no hesitation.

A short cab ride later and you were stumbling into his bedroom with his lips firmly on yours and his hands impatiently pulling at your dress. You reached behind your back to tug at the zipper, and he took the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head, revealing the toned muscle beneath.

You all but gawked at him and your body seemed to have the same effect on him. His eyes raked up and down your figure, pleased to find you hadn’t been wearing a bra. You sat at the edge of his bed as you watched him strip the remainder of his clothes. The second he was bare he was on you, wanting—needing—to feel you under him. He was everywhere all at once, eager to make you feel good and to feel good himself. Little sleep was had that night.

-❀-

You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache and no memory of the night before, but you could make a pretty good guess based on your lack of clothes and the pair of arms wrapped around you. You sat up slowly so as not to wake the man sleeping soundly next to you. It was Kenji, from the night before at the bar. You’d actually gone home with him. One night stands weren’t something you made a habit of but you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret this one.

You carefully removed his arm from where it had fallen limply across your lap and rose from the bed to collect your clothes, still being as quiet as possible. You wracked your brain for any shred of a memory but came up blank. You couldn’t believe you’d slept with the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and couldn’t even remember it. Your attention was drawn to a mirror hung on the wall and you saw that your neck was littered with blue and purple splotches. An attentive lover. Drunk-you must have had fun. Meanwhile, sober-you was calling a cab and hoping the driver didn’t say anything about what was so obviously the walk of shame.

Weeks went by and the days were normal. Ish. You’d been sick every morning for the past week and were struggling to hold food down. You’d brushed it off as a stomach bug that would clear up on its own, but your friend wasn’t as naïve as you.

The day you confided in her about what you’d been struggling with, she dropped by your apartment after work to bring a pregnancy test. “Here,” she said, thrusting the bag into your hands. “And I'm not leaving until you take it.”

You nodded, accepting the very real possibility that she was right. Why didn’t you think to get plan B the next morning? God, you were so stupid. So there you were, sitting on the bathroom floor with your knees pulled to your chest, waiting on the timer to finish as Ami sat next to you, doing her best to ease your anxiety.

When the timer went off, you remained in your seated position. “Do you want me to check instead?” Ami offered. You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steel your nerves. You extended your arm above your head and took the test into your hands. Two solid lines. A positive result. Your friend looked over your shoulder to see for herself. “. . . Are you okay?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied, voice weak and trembling. You looked at her with wide, worried eyes. “What do I do?”

“Make an OBGYN appointment just to be sure. Do you know who the father is?”

There was only one man you had slept with any time recently. “Uh, he said his name was Kenji. Don’t know his last name though. Oh! And he’s a baseball player.”

She inhaled sharply and pulled her phone from her pocket and typed furiously into the search bar. She turned the screen for you to see. “Him?!” She exclaimed.

You looked at the image she pulled up. “Yeah, that’s him,” you gasped, shocked she’d found him so quickly. You took the phone from her and scrolled through the article she’d pulled up. Kenji Sato, as you’d learned his last name to be, wasn’t just any baseball player. He was in the professional league and a rising household name.

“Can you contact him?” She asked. You shook your head no. Ami pursed her lips before resigning herself to whatever it was she was considering. She gestured for her phone back. You gave it to her and she opened her contacts, scrolling until she found the name she was looking for. “You know him?” You asked incredulously.

She nodded. “I’ve interviewed him before.” She called his number before you could refuse and put the phone on speaker, allowing the dial tone to ring throughout the small bathroom. He picked up on the third ring, answering with a simple hello.

“Hi, Mr. Sato. This is—“

“I remember who you are,” Kenji laughed. “Is there something you need?”

Ami hesitated, seeing you aggressively shaking your head to not outright tell him. She tried to hold the phone out to you to speak but you point blank refused. You had both been so drunk you weren’t sure if he remembered you at all. A drawn out “hello” called out from the phone and Ami sighed. “I think it would be best to speak in person. It’s very important.”

“Um, okay. I’ll have to check my schedule to see when I’m free, but I’ll get back to—“

“No, Mr. Sato, it can’t wait indefinitely. Please, I need you to trust me and make just a little bit of time.” Kenji was taken aback by how firm Ami’s voice was. What was happening on her end that needed his immediate attention? Curiosity won him over and he suggested a cafe that stayed open late to meet at.

You put the address into your phone and thanked Ami for her help. Sure, this wasn’t the best way to go about things, but it’s not like you had ever been in this position before. You and Ami walked out to your cars together, hugging each other goodbye before going on your separate ways—her to her mother and daughter, and you to inform your baby daddy that he is, in fact, a baby daddy now.

Upon arriving, you saw that it was a cute cafe along the main road. The building was well lit within, allowing you to see that Kenji had already arrived. If you waited any longer you’d chicken out, so you took a deep breath and marched inside. Kenji looked up at the door as the bell chimed, his face changing from one of disinterest to shock and recognition.

You approached the table he was at and pulled out a chair, sitting across from him. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but I’m supposed to be meeting a friend here,” he said apologetically.

The best you could muster up was an awkward smile, your nerves eating you alive from the inside out. “I know. Ami Wakita, right? She’s a friend of mine as well. She actually called on my behalf.”

A grin spread across his face. “Did you miss me so much you just had to see me tonight?” You felt his foot brush against your ankle under the table.

Your face burned with heat at his insinuation. “It's not like that!”

He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “No? Because I was hoping to see you again but you were gone when I woke up.”

You averted your gaze sheepishly. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t usually . . .” you trailed off.

He gave you an understanding look. “It’s alright. For the record, I don’t either. That night was . . .”

It seemed he didn’t have the words either, unable to express that he wished it hadn’t been just a one-night thing. “So,“ he abruptly changed the topic. “Why did you need to see me so badly?”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line, contemplating how best to say it. No use beating around the bush. “I’m pregnant.”

His jaw dropped open and his eyes were the size of dinner plates. And so were those of the reporter at a nearby table.

#ken sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #ultraman rising #ultraman rising x reader

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alastorss · 6 months ago

Text

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor comes home to silence.

It's strange considering how much of a night owl you've become since meeting him. The quietness is almost eerie—the long stretch of hall between the staircase and your shared bedroom seeming daunting despite the fact that he's walked it a million times before.

The rest of the hotel is dark, like it's been devoid of life all this time. Even Husk has retired for the night, the bar closed and wiped down.

He wonders if he accidentally waltzed into an alternate dimension.

Shaking his head, Alastor creeps down the hall as to not disturb the other guests between him and the bedroom. The door creaks at the hinges as he slowly pushes it open, not wanting to spook you in case you were awake.

He can't explain it, but warmth fills him from the tips of his ears all the way down to his toes when he finally lays eyes on you.

You've fallen asleep at the desk, head buried in your arms to hide your face from the light of the lamp. Your shoulders rise and fall gently with each soft snore, the blanket sloppily thrown over your shoulders cascading down to the floor to make you look like royalty.

The demon feels his grin shrink into a small smile as he slips behind you to peer at what you were doing before you passed out. Dozens of polaroid photos are lazily scattered around the desk, each one dated in the corner and signed with your name and a heart.

His eyes scan the sprawling expanse of photos, dating all the way back to just before you'd introduced yourselves to each other.

He carefully plucks the sharpie from your fingers and caps it before slipping an arm under your knees and the other behind your back. Hoisting you up and using his hip to slide the chair back into place under the desk, he watches as you stir in his arms for a moment.

Alastor carries you to bed, laying you down and re-fluffing your blanket so that you can cozy into it. He sweeps your hair from your eyes and leans down to kiss your forehead.

"Sleep well, Cher," he whispers.

He's just about to whisk himself away to get ready to join you in bed when he happens across the photos again. Curiosity washes through him and, nosy as ever, he dares to take a peek at what your little project was all about.

The demon is careful not to nick the photos with his claws as he lightly drags them across the film, tracing each memory you captured.

Your first day at the hotel, dangling between Charlie and Vaggie as they took you in like a lost puppy. He's not in the photo, but he still remembers hearing your laughter from the lobby and thinking it was wonderful.

Your first time doing one of Charlie's ridiculous bonding activities, where you confessed that you had no recollection of your life as a human. It wasn't uncommon for new Sinners to have forgotten their lives, after all.

Your first time letting Angel dress you. He had decided to put you in something tight and revealing... that bastard.

Alastor's fingers stop atop a polaroid dated to when you first became friends.

He's distracted, looking at you with an expression he can't even recognize himself. Brows quirked and smile making his cheeks cherub—you snapped the photo in his moment of vulnerability when he normally would have vanished from it instantly.

He continues tracing your face in chronological order, your smile growing in each. And he's in every single one of them, never looking at the camera but instead distracted by you in some way.

"People told me you never like to take pictures," your voice suddenly startles him. He looks at you over his shoulder in surprise. You blink at him slowly through your bleariness, the same smile he's seen in all the photos gracing your face. "But for some reason, you've always been in mine."

Alastor turns around again to scan across all the polaroids you've taken of him, dating up until just last week when you had surprised him his favourite meal.

For a moment it dawns on him that he, a demon, should never have opened himself up so much to you. That you were his greatest flaw. That he was weak around you. The thought leaves as fast as it came when he realizes how soft his smile had gotten around you.

He can't remember ever being this happy even as a mortal walking the earth.

"Al?" You say quietly, now sitting up in bed alert and awake from his uncharacteristic silence.

He's still for another second. Then, he swipes the camera from the desk and makes his way to your side. You barely have time to register what he's doing before the light flashes and the shutter clicks.

The picture prints slow enough for you to finally realize that you had been the subject of his photo.

"What was that for?" You giggle, rubbing your eyes from the blinding light.

Alastor takes the picture and slips it into his pocket.

"I want to remember this," he tells you with a kiss to the top of your head. "A memory for me to keep, dearest."

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @nonbinaryanarchist0013 @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @cedarrthefluffylee @alastorthirsty @queermaxwooo @readergirlstuff (send an ask to be added!)

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sweetshuga · 6 days ago

Text

MS ✰ Bewitched ✧ CS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

contains ⚠︎ smut!, strong language!, suggestive remarks!, obscene descriptions!, polyamory, hint of overstimulation, p in v (unprotected, use condoms irl), threesome, oral (m! receiving), size kink, light s&m, bondage, toys & idk a bunch of kinky stuff °~° ⚠︎

sum. Switching their clothes for a video leads to new sexual discoveries.

wc. 2.1k (2,116)

note. English is not my first language!

You watched from your place on the living room couch as Matt and Chris paced back and forth between their rooms. Seemingly exchanging clothes, laughing and talking about some type of tiktok they’re gonna film. You were only partially paying attention now—the fanfiction you were reading on your phone suddenly taking an interesting turn.

"Hey, ma?" Your head shot up at the sudden interruption, your eyes widened by a fraction when you saw their attire. They had exchanged clothes, and even their jewelleries were of the other. It’s not like they don’t wear each other’s clothes, you’ve seen them share hoodies or pants, but never fully dress as one another.

"Yeah?" You breathed out, your voice coming out a bit too shaky for your liking. "Can you please go into one of our rooms while we film a tiktok? Y’know... we can’t really show you yet." Chris said apologetically, and you nodded. "Yeah, yeah, of course, tell me when you’re done." You stood up and made your way towards Matt’s room.

"Sorry about this, sweetheart, we won’t take too long ’promise," you chuckled quietly to yourself before replying with a soft "okay" and closed the door behind yourself. Immediately plopping down on Matt’s bed as you opened your phone, ready to continue reading the fanfic.

Some people might think it’s weird to read fanfictions about your boyfriend— or boyfriends in your case, but you couldn’t deny how hot it was, how much it turned you on. The suggestive part of the fanfic began and just as you got comfortable on the bed Matt walked inside the room.

You looked up from your phone, raising an eyebrow, "you done already?" He chuckled and shook his head no, "Chris is filming his video, I’ll do it after him." You nodded, and motioned for him to come sit beside you. "You should wear bracelets more often, it suits you..." Your voice trailed off as his hand landed on your thigh, giving it a small playful squeeze, and the seemingly innocent gesture sent shivers down your spine.

"Yeah? Maybe I should get a similar one–" he paused, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the Tumblr logo on your phone, the fanfiction left open and abandoned on the bed beside you. You looked at him confused before following his gaze, a small gasp escaped your lips before you quickly turned your phone off.

You sat up, flustered and embarrassed to have been caught red handed reading such a frisky fanfic about him and Chris. Stammering as you tried to find a good excuse as to why you were reading a smut fanfic in broad daylight – even if you could – but it only made it worse. "You read things like that? What was the name again?"

You looked at him for a solid minute before opening your mouth to speak, only getting out a flustered "what?" in response. The corners of Matt’s lips twitched into a small smirk, "what’s the name?" He repeated himself, his smirk threatened to grow wider with each passing second. "Simple solution," you whispered.

"Hm? And what happens in it?" You gulped softly, feeling your face heat up. "Do I have to? I mean, you can just read it yourself, I know you’ve got Tumblr on your phone." Matt laughed, the sound rich and amused, "yeah I do, but I wanna hear you tellin’ me about it, sweetheart." You couldn’t help but fidget slightly at the pet name, it was one of your faves.

"Uhm... It’s like, well," you stammered, "it’s about how much you and Chris look alike when you wear your caps backwards." You finally blurted out, biting your tongue as you waited for his reaction. "That’s... Interesting? So y’like it when we look alike huh?" He chuckled, thoroughly amused.

The bedroom door opened, and Chris peeked his head in. "I’m done," he walked fully inside the room, grinning and putting his hands on his hips in a mock attempt of display. "So, how do I look, ma?" You chuckled and sat up straight, "So fine, I’ll give you that, the kisses tee is just chefs kiss."

Chris grinned wider, "pirate girl tank or kisses tee?" Your jaw dropped, "how do you expect me to pick one? Also, why didn’t you wear the 'iconic' pirate girl tank?" You nudged Matt playfully, "we’re not recreating outfits... well, basically, but it’s more like how we dress and all—" you cut him off with a laugh, "okay, whatever you say, kid."

"Are you two done filming yet?" Nick popped his head in, looking annoyed, "’cause I’m so fucking hungry, and you keep telling me to stay in my room like what am I? One of your secret girlfriends?" Chris scoffed in faux annoyance, "we’ve only got one girl fyi, and no, Matt hasn’t filmed yet, but go ahead and eat if you’re about to starve to death."

Nick huffed, raising his eyebrows in dramatic disbelief, but didn’t say anything else as he walked away, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous everything was. Suddenly, Matt spoke—breaking the silence. "I’ll be back," he gave your thigh one last squeeze before standing up to film the short video for tiktok.

Chris smirked and sauntered over to Matt’s bed where you were – still – laying on. Sitting on the edge as his hand absentmindedly started to caress your calves, "so, real talk, how do I look?" You hummed thoughtfully, "real talk? I think you look hot, like 'makes me wet' kinda hot." He let out a surprised yet amused laugh, "bold now ain’t we?" chuckling as he leaned closer.

"Mm... 'makes you wet' kinda hot huh?" He teased, a wolfish grin on his face as his gaze raked over your body appraisingly. "So, you gon’ show me how wet it makes you or do I have to see it myself." His tone wasn’t one of questioning, more like a commanding one as if you were obligated to show him either way. You felt pleasantly surprised, the fluttering in your abdomen growing tenfold.

However, Matt walked in before you could respond. Raising his eyebrows with a small smirk as he sensed the tension in the air. The room seemed warmer, more electric. That’s when Nick opened the door again, "I’ll be out for a bit–" he paused, having sensed the tension as well.

"Well, uh... Don’t be too loud? We don’t need another noise complaint from our neighbours, that’s just borderline embarrassing." With that, he closed Matt’s bedroom door, leaving you three alone. The front door clicked shut a few minutes later. Your mouth hung agape at Nick’s words.

"Damn, kid has no filter whatsoever." Chris chuckled, taking the fanny pack off and tossing it on Matt’s gaming chair. "Hey, easy with it," Matt said as he took off his cap. Putting it on his gaming desk before turning to look at you. Sensing their eyes on you, you suddenly felt a strong heat in your lower abdomen. Their gazes were enough to make you squirm.

"So, now that Nick is out," Chris looked at Matt before looking back at you, "we’ve the house all to ourselves," Matt continued for him. You nodded subtly, shifting slightly on the bed, trying not to show how in need you were. They weren’t stupid, knowing exactly what was happening with you as their handsome faces lit up with amused grins.

You squirmed, a muffled moan exiting your gagged mouth as your hips bucked and jerked when Chris pressed a button on the small remote, making the vibe in between your legs buzz louder. The intense sensation of the vibe, bound to stay precisely on your clit, was enough to make your eyes roll back.

Your ankles were bound as well as your wrists, making you unable to move much as the pleasure coursed through your body. You bit the gag, your back arching and hips rolling as you tried to get the vibe at least a millimeter away from your throbbing clit, but Matt held your hips down and Chris positioned the vibrator so it was exactly on your clit again.

"Aw, too much?" Matt pouted, jutting his bottom lip out in obvious mock sympathy. Your eyes glazed over as a tight knot formed in your stomach, your body trembling as you tried to fight the impending orgasm – knowing it would turn you dumb from how powerful it would be.

Just when you thought you couldn’t hold back anymore, Chris pressed the button until the vibe buzzed at max. An immediate jolt ran through your body as your eyes widened, tears of pleasure threatening to fall as you shut it back closed, loud muffled noises penetrating through the gag.

Your mind blanked when you felt the knot snap, the orgasm so powerful that you wondered if you could stay conscious. Noticing the slight overstimulation, Chris turned the vibe to a low buzz. The sensation bordered on overstimulating in your oversensitized post-orgasmic state – even if it was barely there. Matt chuckled as he took the remote from Chris and turned the vibe off, your body immediately limping into the mattress as the sensations stopped.

Chris gently untied your ankles from the bounds, but kept your wrists tied over your head. His fingers working deftly to remove the bounds from your pelvic area and tossed the vibe somewhere on the bed. Seeing your inner thighs quivering, covered in your juices, and your swollen, glistening folds on display made their cocks twitch.

They were already naked, not seeing the point in having clothes on, but kept the bracelet and rings on per your request. The tips of their hefty lengths were already dripping with precum from how aroused they were, swollen and taut with unfulfilled desires. Matt suddenly stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet while Chris took off the gag.

A few seconds later, Matt was back on the bed, now beside you as he helped you into a sitting position. Your gaze fell down to his hand that held a red silk blindfold before taking it back up to his face, your eyebrows raised. "Where did you even get that?" You asked with a small hint of amusement.

Matt just grinned, "bought it a while ago, been contemplating whether to use it or not, but I think now’s the best time to use it." Chris chuckled, "dude, I can’t believe y’had all this stuff in your closet, laying ’round like that." Matt chuckled and scooted closer to you, his erection bobbing obscenely as he moved. "C’mon, sweetheart, lemme blindfold you." You eagerly closed your eyes, not denying how much you liked this.

The blindfold cut off any source of light, making you feel a shudder of excitement. It was designed for plays like this so it wasn't a surprise that you couldn't see anything. The inability to see only heightened your other senses, every graze and touch of their hands on you seemed to make your body tremble and jolt.

𓆩♡𓆪

Your mind was a haze as Matt pounded into you with hard, deep strokes, and the slight difficulty breathing from Chris’ length down your throat added to the haze. Your mind fogging with pure unadulterated pleasure as they used your holes. Matt held your bound wrists, keeping you from moving as his other hand gripped your hip with bruising strength.

The obscene sounds of squelching from your sopping pussy being filled over and over again by Matt and the slurping sounds of your mouth working Chris filled the room along with the bed creaking underneath you. The position you were having intercourse in was a new one neither you, Matt or Chris had tried before.

Your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, but your head hung down it—allowing Chris to use your mouth. Matt’s pace quickened as he felt himself growing close with each spasm of your inner walls from your previous orgasms, the aftershocks still coursing through you.

Chris moaned as he felt the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each thrust down your throat, the sight of the bulge he was creating with his cock on your throat proving to be too much. You felt them twitch in your holes, their paces quickening and you knew they were close.

With guttural moans they came, one after the other. After a few seconds of shuddering over you, they finally pulled out, leaving you filled with their releases, but you knew better than to think it was over. Your suspicions were proven right when they coaxed you into a different position, but you weren’t complaining. After all, who could resist? They seemed to have you under their spell—bewitching indeed.

𓆩♡𓆪

ps. The fic mentioned in the beginning is actually one of my chratt fics. I know, I know, sneaky mf, but here's the link in case you wanna check it out<3 «Simple Solution»

Also, the beginning part of the actual smut was inspired by this «p link»

Chratt taglist: @bells-sturn @h3arts4nat @zombiesturniolo @urfavnickgirl @cwistofurr @goingtojohnkramershouseee @blahblahblahm @shoo-00 @ariana2saucyy @ksturnz @sturniolos4life16 @strnlslut @babysturniolo @ashleighpray23 @bl1ssfulbunn1e @ijustbelurkingmymen

♡ If you wanna be tagged on my future Chratt fics click «here» and interact with the post ♡

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sanakimohara · 2 months ago

Note

just wondering if there will be Hyunjin links as well, following the Chan, Minho and Changbin ones? 👀

Now that you mention it….dating Hyunjin has so many perks! … p*rn links!

explicit content ahead + master lists > OT8 list >

- You two have the cutest hobbies together! Everyday is something new for you when you’re with Hyunjin. He enjoys the thrill of trying new things and expanding his talents with you all the time!

- You get a first hand look at his skills in dancing coming to life. He teaches new things about your body, how it can move, and how every inch of you fits against every piece of him!

- You may or may not get an addiction to kissing him! Sometimes it’s all you can think about around him! His lips are just so perfect, so sweet, and feel so right when they’re pressed against yours. Hyunjin finds your random greediness for kisses adorable but he never lets you get away with just a quick peck. If you want them so bad he’s gonna give you the very best kind every time!

- You travel with him quite a bit. Going to new places and seeing new sights when he has the time. There’s nights and days you just cuddle up close to him in his hotel room, wanting nothing more than to just help him relax after a long day of photoshoots and social appearances. Even a muse of millions needs a little break sometimes.

- You get the opportunity to mark him up as much as you want! Hyunjin loves the nibbles and kisses you pepper across his skin, how small they are at first, but eventually darken and grow the more you bite at him. You don’t have to worry about covering them up either. He insists people see them in private and knows more than a few tips and tricks on how to cover them in public! So mark him up all you want.

- You’re admired by him in every way. Pictures, videos, sketches! Hyunjin has all sorts of depictions of you. He adores watching all the wholesome videos you two make together, admiring the faces you make, and the lovely little sounds he forces out of you! God, you’re just so pretty to him in every way!

- You get video calls from him often. Sometimes it’s just talk and help one another fall asleep better when he’s away. Other times he’s begging to hear you talk, help him get his mind off things with soft words. You’ve always got something new or neat to show him too and Hyunjin absolutely loves watching you through the screen.

- You’d never feel less than with him. Getting what you want with a simple pleading look or pout. Hyunjin spoils you often, persistent with his appreciation through the smallest gestures and sweetest words. You’re a little selfish with his love but he truly doesn’t mind!

- You’re his muse in every way he can think of. A living and breathing piece of art he can show off to anyone with pride.

MY INBOX IS CRYING RNNNN. I still have requests I haven’t answered since February?!?? 😭 send helppppp

I’m sorry I keep using Artemis’ songs but they’re so goooooooddd

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strawberrymatchawhore · 8 months ago

Text

away

toxic bf! rafe cameron x reader

"running away is easy, its the leaving thats hard."

summary- the camerons are in charge of the annual new years party this year, you along other kooks as well as the camerons distant family are invited to the estate to celebrate. you unknowingly strike up a conversation with one of rafes cousins whom he has always been in competition with since childhood, eventually having to deal with the consequences of your jealous boyfriend

warning/s- abusive relationship, slapping, degrading, choking, toxic ass relationship, mean rafe, reader is a crybaby, nutting inside as punishment, barely any aftercare, NON/DUBCON (reader lets him fuck to make him less pissed off) IF ANY OF THIS MAKES U UNCOMFY PLS DONT READ <3, etc.. im backkk pls enjoy and comment as well as repost apologies for being gone for so long lolsies 🙁

3 years ago you never would have pictured yourself where you are today, living in one of the finest estates of the island and dating one of the most popular and sought after members of this community. nor have you ever pictured yourself being in a a relationship where everyday was like stepping on eggshells and yet you never felt the urge to leave. you loved him too much to do so.

putting on silver dangly earrings as the final touch to your new years look, you turn to your boyfriend for approval. only to be met with a disgusted look on his face.

"why are you dressed like that"

"i thought you liked it? you bought it for me last week." you argued, folding your arms.

"yeah but i didn't think you'd wear it to a family event, i mean come on baby you look like a hooker." he pointed at the figure forming dress, your eyebrows furrowed. the dress was a maxi dress and the only thing revealing was the slight cleavage.

"never mind i'll just change" you exhale and quickly turn away to avoid starting an argument, but he grabs your arm and ushers for you to stay.

"you know what, lets go. we're already late." he leaves the room and you silently follow behind him.

.....

you and rafe walk through the door with your arm around his bicep, immediately you felt out of place. no one you knew were here and it was just random rich people. you felt your breathing begin to hitch and it continues to grow as you continue your walk into the kitchen to get drinks.

"i'll be back, stay right here." rafe orders and grabs a beer, leaving you to your thoughts.

"hey" a voice interrupted. you look up and see a tall brunette, someone you've never seen in this small island.

"uhm.. hi" you awkwardly respond back, giving a small smile which he returns.

"sorry did i interrupt? i saw you were by yourself so i thought maybe i should come and chat with you for a bit.. not that im calling you lonely. i mea- shit. im adrian by the way." he rambles and you cant help but laugh and slyly look around for your boyfriend. you know know how he gets when you talk to guys, and this guy seemed awfully familiar.

"no no, youre good. please. i was hoping someone would talk to me, everyones so intimidating here." you took another sip of your drink and lean against the marbled counter. who was this guy?

"i know right?! i thought my cousin was going to show up and greet me to everybody but i guess he's too good for that." he joked

"wow he seems like a handfu-" barely getting the response out, you instantly feel someone luring over you and harshly put their hand on your shoulder.

"what are you doing" you hear your boyfriends harsh voice whisper in your ear.

"oh hey man whats up" adrian says, they dap each other up but you could feel the tention behind it.

"i see youve met my girlfriend." rafes hand grabs your waist, massaging it. his fingers dig into your waist.

"i did, shes been a great chat." adrian responded, your jaw clenches and you bite your tongue. you feel your anxiety come back as you know youre about to dig your own grave.

"yeah she is huh. its getting kinda late though. i think we're gonna head out." before even hearing what adrian was going to say, rafe grabs your hand and starts to drag you outside.

"rafe what are you doing??? we just got here." you struggle to catch up with his long angry strides.

"do you think i give a fuck." you release yourself from his grip but he ends up pushing you up against his truck.

"i don-" his hand squeezes your throat, blocking your airways. it was 11 pm and everybody was inside, no one was seeing this.

"tell me. does it look like it?" he seethes, pushing you harder into the truck. you felt your tears start to form when his yelling is followed by his intense eye contact with you.

"no right? so get the fuck in the car." he opens the passenger seat and shoved you inside, slamming the door. rafe then gets into his seat and speeds off. you could tell by the silence and the way he was gripping the steering wheel that you were fucked.

......

rafe pulls up to the driveway and practically drags you inside, you were too scared to speak up. frightened at how much worst that would make his next moves be. pushing you into the guest bedroom he starts to speak up.

"why are you such a slut, i cant even leave you alone for 5 minutes without you trying to hop on my cousins dick." he scolds you, your body sits at the end of the bed in shame. hunching to make yourself smaller, mentally preparing yourself when you see him taking off his clothes.

"take this shit off." he grabs you and tugs on your dress. but you didnt hear him, you were too busy disassociating yourself away from him and this suffocating ass room.

"what'd i fucking say?" rafe slaps you and instead of giving you the time to take off the dress, he rips it and pins you by the wrists to the bed. he glares down at you before leaning down your neck and inhaling your scent and leaving dark bruises behind.

"i was thinking about fucking you real nice and slow tonight. but after you decided to act like a whore, i'm gonna treat you like one. how's that sound baby." he mocks you and caresses you clothed pussy before pulling them off your legs.

"rafe.." you whine when he uses his buff arms to spread your legs as much as they could go. you start to hyperventilate from his threat, and cover your face so you don't have to watch him violate you. his thumb rubs at your clit, and the other hand starts to stroke his cock. the tip showing how angry he truly was.

without a warning your boyfriend slams into your pussy, barley wet and prepped. you weren't adjusted to the size of him.

"ow fuck!" you squealed and immediately tried to seek comfort by grabbing onto rafe's bicep, this only seemed to piss him off more and he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

"you're not allowed to touch me. just lay there and be a good fuck toy for me to use." he gives your ass a hard before forcing his way back into you, the burn and lack of proper lubrication makes you shoot up again but he didn't let you move an inch. this sort of roughness was familiar, yet every time it never fails to terrify you.

"stay the fuck down." his large hand pushes down on the middle of your back, naturally putting you into a face down ass up position. just the way he liked it. your body shakes and trembles in fear when your boyfriends thrusts get harder.

"rafe please it hurts so bad i cant take it" you sobs getting louder, rafe lowers himself closer to you and grabs your throat cutting off your breathing.

"your pussys sucking me right in angel, i think you can." he sneered, your crying and begging seemed to anticipate him even further as he loses all his restraint. you knew you couldn't stop him. its just the way your relationship worked.

he would get mad and then take his anger out on you, and youd let him. why? because you know what he's capable of, the holes displayed throughout your guys bedroom were everyday reminders to not push him too far. but in a way, it made you feel safe and wanted. rafe would do anything to protect you and keep you away from the dangers of the outside world.

"you're starting to get wet shitttt" rafe moaned and releases your throat, both his hands grab onto your hips for leverage as he speeds up his pace hitting the good spots deep inside you. not caring about how there was going to be fingermark bruises later. you hiccup as you try to control the sounds of your crying, using a pillow as comfort while he ruins you from behind.

inevitably your stomach starts to tighten and you feel yourself about to cum, your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your hair and tugs on it. resulting in a moan from you, the other hand moves down to your clit and rubs circles.

"you gonna cum baby? cum on my dick." he orders, he was fucking you so hard and greedily that the sounds of his thrusts and skin colliding were echoing in the room. your body caved into the sensations and you felt yourself fall apart on him.

"thats it squirt all over it, make a fucking mess for me. god you're such a little slut." he coos. the overstimulation of his cock hitting your cervix over and over again made you fucked out to the point of of passing out.

"so fucking tight" his vulgar words fill your ears, he gives your pussy rough slaps and you push against him. you yelped in surprise, eyes widening when you notice that rafes thrusts started to get sloppier.

"no.. no rafe! rafe you cant, we cant!" you protested in between moans, he only laughed in response. trying to push yourself away from him but he easily overpowered you. grabbing both of your arms and pinning them behind your back.

"dont tell me what to do, you did this to yourself." he breathes heavily as he filled you to the brim with him cum, he stayed there for a moment fucking it in as deep as he could before pulling out. enjoying the view of your pretty pussy sucking him right in. your eyes squinted in disgust when you felt his seed slide down your thighs.

rafe got up to clean himself but left you lying on the bed, you definitely werent walk right now and you were so overwhelmed with everything that happened. your conscious couldnt take anymore and your eyes starting tearing up.

"why are you crying." he sat on the edge of the bed and examined your state cluelessly. he scooted closer to you and opened the drawer next to the bed and grabbed a towel, cleaning you with it. you both sat in silence until rafe decided to pick you up and make his way to your actual bedroom.

"youre so mean to me.. you know that." you sniffle into his hard chest and draw circles on it with your finger. he doesn't respond but you know he heard it because he gave you a light squeeze before laying you down on the large bed. he takes his place next to you and turns away from you.

you sigh and turn to face his back, engulfing him in a hug. rafe initially tenses up but then relaxed in your arms. slowly you begin to knock out but before you do, you were sure you heard a brief

"im sorry" from rafe.

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donutz · 10 months ago

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Yandere Dogday x smiling critters cat reader

A/N|| I kind of.. Completely forgot that Dogday was supposed to be a yandere, but he really wouldn't do much as one so... I think it's okay! ^_^

Request from Wattpad—! Here you go Shaymi999 ☆

Your ‘name’ was SleepyMew. Not so good is it? Well stick with it, it’s what they named you. You had some resemblance to Catnap, you both were about sleeping, and you two were cats.

So when you arrived, the other critters were all over you, saying that you were similar to Catnap. While Catnap stared from the shadows.

It wasn’t impossible to see him up there, cats do have night vision after all.

While almost every critter was surrounding you, Dogday stayed behind. Getting a gooood look at you. You noticed that too.

Dogday snapped out of his trance and told the other critters to not crowd you, especially since you’re new.

He asked for your name and you said, “SleepyMew, though I don’t like the name…” You rubbed your eye, because you were just sooo sleepy!

One unique thing about you is that you didn’t have a permanent smile, you could actually move your mouth. Even with your cool feature, nobody was jealous. They found it amazing!!

“Well I like the name!” Dogday exclaimed, causing the other critters to look at each other. Not curious, noooo, they think somethin new is goin on with Dogday.

“He has a crush on Mew.” KickinChicken whispered to Hoppy Hopscotch, and since dog’s have excellent hearing Dogday heard every bit of Kickin’s claim, “Hey! I do not!”

Kickin realized he was caught and said, “What? I never said that?? Man who said that…” Causing the other critters to giggle.

“... Anyways! Would you like to be shown around the place?” Dogday questioned you, still suspicious of what Kickin said.

“Uhh, yeah sure.”

“Great! Come this way!” He softly grabbed your wrist and led you towards areas of playcare.

Even Catnap was a little bit suspicious of Dogday’s feelings.

After Dogday gave you a tour around the place, you settled in and started doing what you were made for. Calming down the kids. There were a few 5-6 year olds that were too excited, and the kids needed to be more chill for the activity.

You lazily walked over to them, asking their names. The kids stated them, and you dealt with their ecstatic energy. Meanwhile, Dogday was watching you deal with them, feeling both proud and impressed at your work.

His feelings growing bigger.

After a few months of working at playcare you and Dogday were together.

You two were sitting on the couch, while Dogday was right next to you, his leg over your lap. He has his arms lightly wrapping around your neck, his head laying on your shoulder. Obviously his tail was wagging.

“Hey… You know how people get rings on their finger in shows…” Dogday said.

“Yea, but how do you know that?”

“I saw it on a show once. Anyways, do you want that to be us?” He looked to your eyes.

You looked back at him, “Yea.”

After a few days you guys actually had this marriage. You didn’t expect it to happen but that was okay.

Cutely, you guys had these little toy rings, KickinChicken was the marriage officiant, “And you may now hug each other not just the bride.”

Then you two had a big hug, with a big smile on your face. Now that was rare.

Years later, all was hell, hundreds of dreaded screams filled even the smallest cracks of Playtime co.

All critters were trying to find a way to live, except one, Catnap.

Dogday was trying his best to get people to safety, while simultaneously worrying about you. “Where’s Catnap?!”

“Catnap is one of the murderers Dogday, we need to go.”

His eyes went wide, he never knew Catnap was doing this.

“WHAT?! How do you—”

“I saw it. I saw him violently kick away the children just so he can have his fill. Catnap isn’t going to leave with us, in fact, he’s following the Prototype.”

This was so sudden for Dogday, his best friend was the cause of all of this?!

“I know a spot where we can—” Your fur stood up, your hairs itching at your toy skin. Your irises went smaller and smaller, you slowly turned your head towards him. Towards Catnap.

The much bigger Catnap.

Knowing you were in danger, you started growling(you are a cat after all), but Dogday was… surprised. What you said was true, it’s not like he didn’t believe you, it’s just he didn’t expect to see it before his eyes.

“Dogday, run.” This was a fight between two cats, it’s better not to try to stop it. It can get quite bloody.

“WHAT?! NO I CAN’T—”

“GO.”

Reluctantly, Dogday sped away.

“THE PROTOTYPE WILL SAVE US.”

“...”

Then, the cat fight started.

Dogday was helping out others get to safety, as the nice dog he is… He was waiting for you. Hoping you’d make it out alive.

An hour later, he was looking for you. He found you! And you weren’t dead! You were very bloodied up, laying on the ground.

Dogday hurried over to you, happy you’re still alive. You wanted to yell out, tell him to not come over, but he is listening. So you shook your head really hard, something you did before this all happened. Why? Because that's how you indicated to not do it, to do anything(you did it when you didn’t want to talk).

Thankfully, Dogday was watching you and not just doing actions. So he stopped. Catnap was right there, he could strike at any moment. You didn’t want that to happen to your precious Dogday.

Even if Dogday didn’t come out of the hallway he was in, Catnap still attacked. Well tried to. Dogday dodged in time and ran over to you, picking you up and high tailing it outta there.

You two managed to get to a somewhat safe area, and Dogday had time to be alone with you. There’s some bandages and rags in the area so he could heal you up, just a little bit.

Dogday was trying to calm down, but couldn’t. As the smiling critter who’s supposed to help relax others, you took action.

“It’s okay Dogday. I won’t die.”

“...” He looked up at you, with sincerity, “I should’ve never ran away…”

You cracked a small smile, “Hey, at least I got like… 5 scratches in?” Dogday furrowed his eyebrows a little, “Mew don’t joke around right now.”

“Sorry…”

After all this time, you wondered where Dogday was. Alive, hopefully. Apparently an angel entered the building, and was able to get by all the chances of death.

You don’t know where they are now, but you hope they could save Dogday.

“Hey.. It’s… Okay it’s not alright, but try to think about the positive things..” Poppy comforted(tried to).

“I am, but it doesn’t help at all unless I know that he’s safe.” You were shivering, hoping the positive scenarios you thought of were true.

Few hours later, Poppy and Kissy found a safe place where the player, or Dogday, could be.

Though you didn’t know Dogday was going to be there.

So once you saw him, you sped over to where he was and picked him up(you were in your larger form like Dogday).

You were crying, that’s the first time you’ve cried, even when Catnap was nearly killing you.

“I miss you so much love..” … Love? That’s a new one.

“Since when did you start calling me love?” You said with a smirk.

Dogday got a little flustered, “Uhm, I remembered that you didn’t really like your name, so I just thought of it…”

“Mhm.” You looked down and saw that he had no lower half. “Oh, that’s also new. Is that why you were so light?”

“... Yes.”

“Hm, player, do you know how to put together his body?”

They nodded and they immediately started working on putting his body back together.

After an hour, he finally had his legs back, he was still shorter than you though. “Hah! I’m tallerrrr!!” You bragged.

“... Really…?” He wasn’t annoyed, in fact he was happy, that he gets to see your smile again.

Player suddenly remembered that they found a ring while ‘adventuring’.

They mentioned it and asked if that’s anyone’s ring. Yours and Dogday’s eyes went wide. “Dogday is that your—”

“MY RING!!”

The player unknowingly just caused the biggest reaction from you two, just because they wanted to search around a little more.

“Angel, where did you find this?!”

They said it was in this area with a big paw pillow in the room.

“Catnap was keeping your ring?” You questioned.

It went silent, not for too long as your cat growls slowly filled the area.

“I’m killing that stupid cat.”

“Love, don't say that!”

He was secretly hoping you’d actually do it.

#poppy playtime #poppy platime fanfic #poppy playtime x reader #smiling critters #catnap #dogday #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #gn reader #dogday x reader #fluff relationship #poppy #kissy missy #kickinchicken #hoppy hopscotch #dogday x smiling critter reader #dogday x smiling critter cat reader

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nouearth · 4 months ago

Text

“'TILL WE SEE STARS”

zane phillips, nico greetham, drew starkey, taylor zakhar perez, tom holland, and oliver stark x male reader.

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓— fic [ 14.7k ] 〳 part one

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒—male reader〳make sure to read part one!〳established relationship 〳 collage!au 〳jealous!zane 〳 sexual content: everyone is a top, bottom!reader, cum dumpster!reader, double penetration, gang bang, rough!sex, kissing, spitting, breeding, cumplay, bukkake, blowjobs, handjobs, praising, body worshipping, lots and lots of filthy sex!

You didn’t notice right away.

In your defense, Zane had always been exceptionally distracting, and that would only become harder to refute since you’d been something to him.

Rephrase that—someone.

Someone special, someone of importance, someone that meant something.

You’ve had doubts. Who wouldn’t when even your own friends looked at you with such bewilderment upon introducing him to the small group. Nerds and Jocks don’t mix; a childish verity you and your friends held with high regard since being hit in the face with a ball happened one too many times to brush those instances off as mere coincidences. That, and your snickering high school classmates would since provide you a whole new perspective on that matter.

But you went on to prove your friends wrong, prove that your doubts were meager tricks that only persisted to keep you from exploring out of your comfort zone—from living life to its fullest possibilities. The house that had once shielded you from all cruelties the world and its inhabitants brought with them began to crumble from its residence on a clifftop. Parts that made up the foundation sacrificed themselves in pursuit to bring you home. Wood, stone, red bricks; they catapulted into the ocean, swam on the surface, floated for air, and dived in the deep sea. Farther and farther, they searched for you, hopeful for any signs of life that signaled for your immediate rescue.

Instead, what they found was baffling.

It was you, but it wasn’t you at the same time. Something changed—this growing assurance in your disposition, holding onto a man, large and more than capable to protect, a threat to the house that had kept you safe since birth.

Betrayal, what happened to my son? My boy? My sweet boy?

You could hear the rage in their authoritative voice, but you’ve grown to realize their awful cadence had only been a tactic for you to come back—come back to them—to scare you into being the perfect boy they’ve raised you to be.

Every kiss from the man ignited a fire within you. He forged you with strength, with fortification, with affection—and you uttered a strong defiance, then watched the foundation disintegrate before your very eyes, piece by piece.

***

There was always so much care in Zane’s palms, yet he’d proven you to be exceptionally attentive when he was upset. Like he was trying to persuade you from deviating too far into his worries.

It was embarrassing to admit how long it took for you to piece it altogether—why he was often in a mood, or why he was adamant in making you stay the night at his apartment. You never pondered about it for too long as it never amounted to much. All it took was a night in his bed, watching his favorite shows, kissing and fondling to take his mind off of what was festering inside, and everything returned back to normal. A stressful day at work or practice, you’d reckon as you watched him sleep on your chest, his gentle snores beckoning you to your slumber.

But you began noticing a pattern. It happened every Thursday and Friday. You’d come to his place after tutoring, and he would greet you by the entrance with the most fulfilling kiss. Grappled by his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest, and your lips raptured by his.

“Well, greetings to you too! I brought dinner.”

“That can wait… I missed you,” he would say before swooping you off your feet and fleeing with you into his bedroom.

At the least provocation, he’d proven all too willing to lick into your mouth and shove his greedy hands beneath your shirt. It was a growing tendency that you weren’t inclined to draw to a close because frankly—there was nothing to complain about, other than the cold takeout.

As observant as you usually were, you blamed yourself for not puzzling Zane’s growing possessiveness to your tutoring sooner.

Or maybe you were turning a blind eye, because you anticipated the magnificent nights he’d bestow on you. On those nights, Zane was especially keen to make you take all of him—every inch, every seed, every feeling.

“Swallow it all. I don’t want to see a drop left, baby.” “M-mmfngh—“

All in all, it was beginning to become clear that those days were bothering him. You could feel the tension in the air, the heaviness in your gut as Zane swelled inside of you for the second time of the night, two days in a row.

It was beyond the fact that you tutored—he was fine with that.

It was who you were tutoring.

On Thursdays, you could feel his delusional need to investigate who’d been in your mouth. Tom? Oliver? Taylor? He would suckle on your tongue until you reeled back for a breath, and even then, he wouldn’t stop licking into your mouth.

On Fridays, his hands wouldn’t leave your body. They covertly searched high and low, back to front, squeezing, pulling, roaming, pushing, for any marks, for any evidence of Nico’s presence, of Drew’s marks—but the only blemishes were Zane’s from the day before. A love bite to your neck, and another one to the left of your hip bone.

No one.

You both knew it was the truth—your loyalty to him, but Zane was a madman who was being fed with delusions beyond your control, and in turn, it gifted you the most passionate lover only you could’ve fantasized in novels.

“Oh, g-god. Right there. Don’t go faster, Zane. Don’t slow down. Just like that—“ “Yeah? You like my cock wrecking your pretty hole? Just. Like. That?”

***

“Would it make you feel better if you were with me?” you mentioned out of the blue, the show you two had been watching finally rolled the credits.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Zane averted his gaze toward you, blindly reaching for the remote and switching the TV off. Then, he pulled you closer into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His nose buzzed with delight at the scent of your shampoo.

“Well…” he watched you ponder—your gaze avoidant and wandering unlike the abrupt tension he felt in your body. He opened his arm out of concern, allowing you to properly gather yourself with the newfound space. You sat up and resumed explaining carefully, “I know you don’t like it when I’m… with your friends—alone. Embarrassingly enough, it just hit me—and… well, you seem off these days. And I think it’s because of that.”

It was like being caught in a lie. Not one of those major ones that Zane knew he would commit from beginning to end, but a white lie—a vaulted truth to spare your feelings, even if it meant that it was festering and poisoning him on the inside.

It was an unspoken promise. A natural response. A firm conviction that he should bear your troubles and worries in solitude.

After all, he was your boyfriend, your protector.

“What? Babe—no, what? Have I been acting different? I don’t know. I guess work’s gotten busier, so I guess that could explain…” He was teetering on the edge of revelation or secrecy, stammering until he was one step away from falling.

Zane was never a great liar.

“Come on. You can be honest. Is it because you don’t trust me? Because we study at the library and—“

“No, I absolutely trust you. Don’t say that.”

“I mean, it’s probably weird for me to be hanging out with them—in a way. It makes sense that you’d want to be there, so I get it if you feel hurt or disappointed or—“

“Babe, it’s not—“

“They’re your friends, not mine. I mean, I don’t think they see me as a friend anyway? I’m their tutor, and that’s how it should be…”

“(M/N), wait a second—“

Your hands were theatrical. Grandiose. If you had a symphony playing with you, they’d be performing with fervor, sweating until the grasp on their instruments had slipped at the nearing crescendo, and the audience would gasp altogether to fill the void of abrupt silence.

“I promise, Zane. All I do is give them assignments, like I did with you—well, not like I did with you. We were a little different, weren’t we… but with them? I-it’s like how I tutor everyone else and…!“

You suddenly stood up from the couch, clearly exasperated by the lack of words that could properly support your claims.

“Hey, hey…” he quelled you with a gentle tug to your hand, silently urging you back to his side with a consoling grin. You huffed, sucking in what he could presume to be more self-destructing words, and dramatically let the tension on your shoulders push your body onto his lap.

It wasn’t the right moment to notice, but would you kill him if he felt more inclined to annoy you in the future if this was how charming you always looked? The answer would probably be no. You had a tendency to forgive—a little too easily.

“Then what’s wrong? Is it my fault? Over-cooked your chicken? Ate your protein bar without asking? Got a stain on your hoodie, but I think I washed it out…?” Frowning, you stared back up at him through your eyelashes, chin sunken to your chest, and completely hopeless.

For a moment, he was speechless. It always took one glance from you for Zane to lose his train of thought. Even when you felt all kinds of emotions, there was still that glint in your eyes that never failed to make his heart feel like it was about to burst.

“Kinda is your fault. I mean, if you hadn’t been born with that handsome face of yours, or been blessed with brains and kindness, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Be serious!” Zane felt your body tense up again. You were about to pull yourself off his lap before he rested a hand to your chest and gently pushed you back. “So, there is a problem…”

“It’s my problem, (M/N),” he began soothing your chest in small circles. The cotton soft in his palm before it was inevitably delighted with the firmness of your chest when he slipped a hand under your shirt, resuming his caress.

“I might not have a lot of experience in dating, but I’ve watched a lot of films to know that partners help each other when either one of them have a problem.”

Guilt was quickly catching up to him. Zane could feel its presence looming over his head. Like smog, heavy and thick, and even if it had waned into thin air—completely obliterated to the back of his mind—Zane was confident he would be suffering from the ramifications of it in the future.

“God… what am I going to do with you,” he dipped forward and buried his head into your body, using your shirt to muffle his conflicted groans.

It was those eyes of yours again. He couldn’t bear to face you with the secrets he’d been withholding, but he was already in this predicament. Ignoring it, even after being called out on his behavior, would just make things worse than if he would just tell you the truth.

He waited for seconds. Then seconds turned into minutes. Then those remaining minutes were spent sighing at the softest strokes you brushed through his hair, to occupy the silence, or to break the tension between you two. Either way, his heart felt heavier despite your comforting attempts.

With a mutter, Zane turned his head towards you and looked truthfully into your eyes, “Yeah, I’m jealous.”

You immediately perked up to join him at his side again, taking his hand into yours, “Zane, I promise—nothing happens…”

“No, I know, (M/N). I trust you. I mean, what can I say? I miss you. Our schedule isn’t aligning like I thought it would, and it feels like I’m seeing you less since you’ve taken Tom, Drew, Taylor… all of them for tutoring.”

“I can cut back? Maybe arrange the meetings to fit your schedule, and that way we can—“

“No, absolutely not. I’m not going to be that type of boyfriend.”

“Well, I can’t just sit here and watch you suffer.” Zane watched you play with his fingers, clamping your hand to his, then unclasping as his thoughts prolonged another silence.

“You have no idea, (M/N). I… God, it’s all fucked up.” He rubbed his face to comfort himself, groaning into his palms before taking your hands into his again.

Nothing calmed him more than simply holding you.

“What? It’s just about us not spending enough time together, right? Maybe I’m too optimistic, but that seems like something that can be easily resolved…”

“No—I mean, yes. That’s the problem, but it isn’t the main problem…”

“Then… what is?”

From the corner of his eye, he watched you physically brace yourself, straightening your posture like the suspense had been literally killing you and your insides. You took one deep exhale, preparing yourself for the worst while Zane fished for his phone, and scrolled through his messages.

He began explaining.

Taking tutoring lessons was the last thing on the team’s mind. For Zane and Nico, it was a simple affair. Their grades were dropping like flies, and their coach didn’t like the sight of that, or the consequences that would follow. If they didn’t take their grades seriously, how could Coach trust them to lead the team? How can they lead the team with discipline—if they severely lacked it themselves? Zane was warned of this predicament for multiple semesters, and it was only recently when he began taking it seriously.

He’d never received a letter from his coach before, and as laughably traditional as it was, he’ll forever remember the sinking feeling in his chest when he read the last paragraph of his coach’s handwriting:

Fix your grades by the end of the semester, or you’re out. No more second chances. You’re great, but not that great for me to put your future in jeopardy. Sorry, I should’ve been harder on you.

Without much arguing, he did as he was told. Week by week, month by month, Zane and Nico’s grades improved tremendously, and the threat of being kicked off the wrestling team was delayed for another semester. However, as much as the guys were impressed by their success, Zane couldn’t owe the credit to solely himself. You were a major part of his triumphant journey, and the team would since become greatly fond of you and your saving contributions to the group.

Maybe it was inspiring to watch Zane and Nico dig themselves out of a rut, an underdog story that everyone loved rooting for in the movies. Or maybe it was some kind of unspoken brotherhood, where if one was struggling, then the other would join them in their agony to establish some type of rapport. Because soon after, Zane’s teammates found themselves in an awfully similar situation to him and solicited your service.

But Zane knew his teammates.

Zane knew that this decision was completely out of left field. Taylor, Tom, Drew, Oliver; it was strange to see all of them suddenly feel the need to seek out a tutor—specifically you out of all the available people—to help them with their studies.

It was odd to listen to them complain that their grades had been dropping, apparently lower and lower with every passing week.

And again, Zane knew his teammates.

He spent every waking second with them since they’d met each other as freshmen; aligned every course with the guys so he’d come into class knowing at least one person; visited each other’s house on semester breaks because why the hell not—it was on the drive home. For god’s sake, all of their parents knew the team by government name, siblings if they had any, and even their own aspirations in life.

They were teammates, but they were also best friends.

So, Zane had every right to call this entire arrangement as bullshit.

They weren’t struggling with their grades. Tom and Taylor were honor students. Oliver was a teaching assistant. Drew was interning for a marketing firm that made Zane’s eyes hurt when he snooped through Drew’s emails, and looked at the qualifications for the rather imposing position.

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

They were fucking with him.

Or to better clarify—trying to fuck with you.

Trying to fuck you.

It was Zane’s fault. He wasn’t clear that he was actually serious about his relationship with you, and that unlike his previous relations, there was no sharing with the team. All hands were off—should be off—and the only ones you’d be holding were Zane’s.

No.

That didn’t sound right.

It was their fault. It had to be their fault. They were the ones talking about you like they had never seen a pretty boy in their life, like they had never seen a man sharing this dreadful place we call Earth. A man with those pretty eyes, smiling with that pretty mouth, frowning with those pretty cheeks, typing with those pretty hands—the team would practically brand you as theirs with every session they’d return from studying with you, and they boasted about it all to Zane’s face.

Maybe it was his fault after all.

Zane loved bragging about you. It wasn’t something he often did with his previous partners, but something about you changed him. Zane loved showing your selfies off to his friends. One day he’d marvel how soft your lips were, the next he’d go on a tangent about what an incredibly kind person you were for finding someone’s lost dog. It was all arbitrary. As long as it was framed around you, the topics bounced from your looks to your body to your personality, and to his surprise, his friends would chime in too.

Increasingly more, as they would get to know you following every meeting.

The worst part was that Zane allowed it to happen and found himself encouraging this behavior he was scrutinizing. The group chat was complete evidence of his participation, and with every message, he could physically feel the jury slipping out of his favor.

Drew: I shouldn’t have doubted you, Zane. There’s something about your boy’s eyes…

Tom: Oh god. Does he always look at you like that, Zane? I don’t know how you can handle it. I have to physically hold my crotch to keep myself from coming in my pants.

Taylor: Can we talk about his lips, though? They’re so plump. I couldn’t help but stare at them. He does that cute thing where he chews on his lip when he’s grading.

Oliver: I wonder what he does when his mouth is filled. Zane? Care to give us a hint, please? Or shall we give him a visit and demo for ourselves…?

Zane: Hm, I’ll just say that… (M/N)’s learning very quickly on how to breathe through his nose and relax his throat. Though, that doesn’t stop the noises from coming out of his mouth.

Nico: Always had a thing for nerds… He suck you off with his glasses on or no?

Zane: On.

Drew: Oh, c’mon…

Taylor: Shit. I’m getting hard.

Tom: Fuck. Me too.

Nico: Lucky bastard… It should’ve been me!

Oliver: Never mind. This is so much better than what I could’ve imagined.

Zane laid it all out onto the table for you. His phone was a bar of gold in your hand as you scrolled and read through the messages pertaining you between him and his friends. The more recent the texts were, the more explicit and brazen.

Taylor talked about a dream that he had of you, where you allowed him to kiss you wherever he pleased if he got a question right. This was as innocent it would get. His hand would be shoved into your pants while he would kiss at your neck, licking into your whimpers.

Tom texted about the random hard-ons he’d sport when he was with you. Something as simple as watching you lick your lips was enough to get him off for the night.

Drew daydreamed about you giving him a hand job in the library. The rush of being nearly caught, and the flood of embarrassment blooming on your neck and face resulted him coming within your fist. You’d hover your free hand beneath his cock, to catch the flood of cum, because you were a kind person who didn’t want to make a public mess. And because you were such a kind person, you’d slurp his cum off your palm, right then and there, before Drew’s very eyes.

Nico was the most yearning. Perhaps it was because he always played second fiddle to Zane’s leadership, and that reflected onto his fantasies, but he missed hearing your praises. Praises that consisted of how good he was at solving this problem; how proud you were when he went out of his way to do more problems than what was assigned to him; how nice he felt when he pushed his warm cock inside of you for the first time. You’d overwhelm him with so many compliments, so many kind words, that it wouldn’t take much for him to come inside of you.

Oliver was a brazen man. He spoke without thought, without a filter, and if it came to Zane’s decision, he would want to publish a book full of Oliver’s lewd fantasies about you. He wanted to fuck you. Point blank period. It wasn’t up for debate. He would make you take him in the car if he could. Bent over the backseat, while he pounded into you out in the parking lot, or maybe in the woods if you preferred seclusion. And when he was done with you, he’d leave you there dripping, inhaling another smoke to work up another appetite, as if the image of his cum leaking out of you and down your legs hadn’t strung up his cock like a puppet with every passing second.

“It’s a lot, I know,” Zane��s voice broke you from the spell that was his friends’ fantasies. You blinked rapidly to ward off the explicit images festering. He was reading them with you, the illusions silently feeding you and him simultaneously. “Listen, if you want to call it quits, I understand. But I just—I love… seeing them talk about you like that. It makes me… so proud. Powerful—knowing that they can’t ever lay their hands on you, as long as I’m in the picture.”

“But… you said you were jealous? I don’t understand—” You fidgeted uncomfortably against him. Zane took no mind to it, especially since you seem to be taking the information better than he’d thought, but your constant squirming was beginning to be a cause of concern. He blindly opened his arm for you, allowing you to snuggle into his side.

“Yeah, well… I guess riling your friends up and feeding into their fantasies has some consequences. I like it when they talk about you to me, but… I don’t know, I guess I imagine what they would do to you if you were alone with them and it makes me worried, yet aroused? It’s… confusing, I know. I don’t get it either—Babe, are you okay? You keep moving.“

“No, continue—it’s just—“ you groaned, pressing closer to his side and crossing your legs. “Is that why you’ve been extra affectionate? I mean, you always have been, but I swear, I think we have sex almost every day—or is that normal? Not that I don’t love it. I don’t want you to get tired of me or something.”

“First off, never going to happen. I could never get tired of you. And… it might be normal depending on who you’re asking… Might be our new normal, if I’m being honest. I can’t help that you’re so irresistible—okay, what’s going on—” For a couple more seconds, Zane endured you fiddling with the blanket on your lap before suddenly tugging it off and freeing you of your agony, or whatever was the reason of your constant writhing.

He glanced down at your lap, and your reflex was quick to hide it—whatever was near your pelvis. It was hard seeing you in the dark with the TV and his phone switched off. The moonlight filtered through the blinds on his windows, but it was only enough to highlight parts of your face, not enough to illuminate the entire living room.

Without a warning, Zane reached in between your thighs and frisked whatever that had come into contact with his palm. He raised an eyebrow at the sudden hitch of your breath, feeling nothing but the leather of the couch in his palm—until he moved it higher, toward your lack of an attempt at shielding, and pushed your hand aside.

“Oh,” it didn’t take long to guess what was in the palm of his hand. He could trace the shape of it in his sleep if he was asked to. Write the exact measurements as he recalled numerous nights with you if he was quizzed on it, even if majority of his calculations relied on his grip.

Zane knew you very well, and he especially knew what he was squeezing—gently kneading until those familiar sounds poured out of you like freshly squeezed orange juice.

Ah, there it was.

It was his boy’s cock.

“Don’t get mad—“ you warned, pausing Zane’s kneads with a gentle grasp, but he persisted, only challenging the tightness in your shorts in the end.

“Why would I be mad? You’re not mad?” his voice traveled ticklishly to your ear. He’d pulled you closer, whispering while his hand was all synonyms of tantalizing.

“Is it wrong to say that I’m not? Is this was what you felt like…? I’m confused and horny, and it’s all a mess, Zane…” you groaned when his hand into the leg opening, eagerly reaching for your stiff arousal.

“God, sorry—let’s just… talk about this later. Fuck, come on.”

“Y-yeah, good idea.”

***

“They never heard yours.”

It was cool and lulling—the baby wipe Zane was cleaning you down with. Just when you thought Zane couldn’t have gotten more attractive, the concentrated look on his face while he wiped the sweat and sticky residue off your torso made your flaccid cock twitch, his biceps bulging like they were still strenuous from holding you against the wall a few minutes prior.

Zane raised a curious brow at your vagueness and your renewed arousal altogether before chucking the wipes in a bin and tucking himself to your side. “What do you mean?”

At the advance of his arms around your waist, you turned in your position to face him, pulling him close by the hips. “Your fantasy. They all told you about theirs, but you never did. Just makes me curious… on what yours is?”

Zane pondered, his thumb pondering with him as it chased after an internal beat, a rhythm over your lower back. In the meantime, you surveyed his face, like you always did post-sex. His moles were attractive, his eyebrows and lips deliciously full, and his eyes—beautiful windows to his beautiful soul.

You were the luckiest man on earth.

“You can’t judge me, all right?”

He jolted you back from your studying, an uncertain air emanating from his disposition.

You took his cheek in your hand and squeezed him with assertion. “I would never!”

Your constant kneading made him loosen up. He exhaled deep, looking dubious, but compiled trust into your eyes in the end—because it was just a fantasy, right?

One.

BIg.

Fucking.

Dream.

Finally, Zane confessed.

“Gangbang…”

“Oh…!”

***

Zane didn’t know what to expect. He had to admit that you looked uneasy when he brought up the topic of having a safe word. As basic as it was, the traffic light system was ideal as vanilla as it was, especially for something as daunting as someone’s first gangbang.

Plus, you were getting a little too creative with the safe words.

“What about… peanut butter cup..?” “Eh… think that’s a little too long, babe.” “Ghost!” “You might freak Tom out. He apparently had an ‘apparition’ back at his grandma’s house.” “Sheep?” “Sounds like ‘shit,’ which can be misconstrued as “shit, keep fucking me!"” “Hm… pickle?” “Gross! You know I hate pickles!” “You don’t eat words, Zane!”

As hopeful and convincing Zane could be, the last thing he would’ve thought was you agreeing to this—without much hesitation too, might he add.

“Can you move okay?” Zane stepped aside for you to walk from one end of his bedroom to the other. It wasn’t much distance, but it wasn’t like you needed an ample amount of space to begin with.

You took the open floor to demonstrate your ability to walk. It seemed simple enough. You did it every day. One foot after the other, step by step, leisurely and calmly and—

“Oh—“ you stiffened after the first step and froze in place. One leg methodically moved back and forth to gauge the restrictive mobility. “It feels a little… tight?”

“We can go a size smaller, but it should be a little uncomfortable. Plus, you’re not going to be walking much? Hopefully…” Zane calmly reasoned, maneuvering you like a mannequin. His hand was searching high and low for any physical indications that a butt plug was lodged inside of you—pressing when the flange toy protruded a centimeter more than he had liked.

Your breath hitched and then you shook your head, deciding the size was adequate adequate enough, and resumed walking normally. One couldn’t have noticed any oddities, as long as they ignored the rigidness of your posture.

The feeling came out of the blue—you wanted to impress them. After all, you were the star of the night. Zane’s confession had been simmering in your thoughts for a few days, especially one comment when he described how powerful he felt knowing his friends wanted you, but couldn’t have you.

You wanted to make Zane proud. If the humblest of all brags turned his friends into complete brutes, you couldn’t imagine how they would act when they all have had a turn to explore your body inside and out, and never again. Dogs. Monsters. Yet they’d worship every sovereign step that Zane would take like they were indebted to his graciousness, like they were his men of labor, all for one more night with you again.

You wanted more than to make Zane proud. You wanted to make him feel like a king.

Three knocks at the door, and the long-awaited fantasy was a door away from becoming a reality. You tailed stiffly after Zane, the kiss he quickly granted you before jogging to the entrance like a spell to your pursuit—like a hex to the tension Zane knew all-so-well.

Zane looked back once more, a nod of assurance padded by a bright smile, and you exhaled out the tightness in your chest.

Let the party begin.

***

“Let’s make it… easier for you, babe. Warm you up instead of abruptly starting?”

“Yeah—that sounds fine to me.”

“You’ll spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on can initiate the first step. No more than a minute. Then, you’ll spin the bottle again—second person goes, so-on and so-on. Sound good? More organized that way, right? And you can get a feel of everyone’s… vibes without it being overwhelming. Fellas? Any objections?”

“Sounds good to me, Zane.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeap.”

“Mm-hm.”

“No complaints here.”

The slower the bottle spun, the faster your heart beat. Your eyes moved from one man to the next, as if you were the empty beer bottle itself. The group formed a circle in the middle of the living room, small but enough to accommodate for seven men: You, Zane, Taylor, Oliver, Nico, Tom, and Drew; in that order of the circumference. Other than the guys catching up with you—small talk about your tutoring, their assignments, dinner, new dogs, and whatnot—conversations were kept to a minimum.

All seven of you knew why you were here altogether, and they weren’t keen on drawing it out for any longer.

“You guys just came back from the gym?” Zane asked after taking a sip of his beer. You reached for his bottle, feeling parched, and he passed it to you with a composing grin, lingering to watch your expression sour as the bubbles tickled your throat.

“Yeah—was going to hit the showers, but then we would’ve been late,” Taylor explained, and the rest of the guys nodded in between sips of their beers, comically attentive to the slowing bottle. You took a silent whiff of the heavy musk radiating off of the five men; your dick twitched.

“Oh shit, who’s it gonna be?! First stud of the night!” Tom bowed his body forward and began drumming the floor in faux suspense. You laughed and joined in on the increasing drum rolls, the others including yourself finding his anticipation infectious as laughter spread amongst the group like a virus—the seven pairs of hands drumming on the floor altogether being part of the symptom.

There was nothing to be worried about, was there?

This was going to be fun.

A blast.

A bang.

The bottle slowed, passing pairs of bare feet in its rotation. Multiple postures straightened as if they could compel gravity to direct the bottle towards them, but then Drew’s slumped when it passed him, then Taylor’s, and a domino effect of lost hope was rippled—all except for one.

A chorus of oohs broke out when it stopped on Nico—Zane’s right-hand man. It must’ve been an inside joke between all six of them because Oliver made a comment about how Nico was finally having his moment, and they all erupted into another fit of laughter, cutting the tension in the air one chuckle at a time.

“You’re up!” Zane beckoned with a nod. You took another glance at him, nothing of concern, but rather to alleviate his own worries by the way he suddenly gathered his hold on your hand, and then pecked him on the lips and cheek. He smiled, returning the peck onto your lips before whispering into your ear, “Show ‘em what a lucky man I am.”

“Whew, all right..!” Nico propped himself up with a hop.

Nico made his way towards you and pulled you to the middle of the circle. Even knowing that you read his messages, he still carried that dashing smile like it was a weapon. One that regularly caused destruction on many hearts, one that charged your own like it was a battery—you just now discovered how disruptive dimples could be.

He was a sly man. Two-faced even, and you anticipated to discover this other side of him that he’d been reluctant to show.

“Hi—again,” Nico whispered through a smile. You found it charming how he couldn’t contain his glee. Dimple to dimple, they were like two separate smiles of their own, bracketing the salient beam from widening any further.

You wanted to peek over at Zane when Nico pressed his nose to yours, taunting himself—taunting you with the suspense of his soft-looking lips. But Nico’s hand on your nape was absolute and refusing, holding you like you were a weakening star—his dying wish, and made you fix his eyes on him, as he had done for you all this time. “Sorry you had to find out this way, but… I have a crush on you.”

“No—it’s fine. It’s why we’re here, right?” You braced one hand over Nico’s lap and the other on his broad chest. Sturdy, well-defined muscles graced your palm with every caress.

“Yeah… what a way to reciprocate my feelings…”

Slowly, you felt Nico’s breath warm your lips before they were taken hostage by his pair of reds, mirroring the close of his eyes upon noticing. The room fell to a silence, watching like hawks, closing in between the two bodies for front seating of the kiss.

He started gentle; soft lips moving against softer lips, careful to avoid hitting your glasses, your gasps and his groans filling your mouth with fulfillment. One hand of Nico’s maintained on your nape while the other rested on the small of your back, to pull you closer, to feel the skin hidden beneath polycotton. His hand was warm as he roamed; big as he held at nothing but something all at once; inquisitive as his fingers would occasionally dip into the waistband of your shorts.

The longer it goes on, the harder the kiss was. Nico’s mouth was illusive, now hard and abrasive to train your mouth open, and then stay open as he licked into your mouth and explored with his curious tongue. Your ears perked at an envious comment from one of the guys, but it was quickly hushed following the sound of your moans. Nico wrapped his mouth around your tongue and sucked with ardency, mining any possible sounds out of you like they were Earth’s greatest treasure. Your tongue reeled back in growing desire to tick a kink off of Nico’s bucket list, smooching a few more times on the lips, holding his cheek, and then whispering into his warm mouth with a bated breath as his hand halted its lone venture up the opening of your shorts.

“You’re a great kisser, Nico…”

“Time!”

A timer sang from your side, and a web of spit tailed your lips as you pulled away, letting your gaze linger to catch Nico’s heightened arousal in his eyes before returning to your seat.

“Fuck..,” chuckles spread from man to man when Nico returned, exhaling and shaking all sorts of trembles out of his body. Oliver and Tom aided with hard smacks to Nico’s back, sharing the thrill of the kiss simultaneously.

“Was that okay?” You whispered to Zane, fixing your glasses while the rest of the guys debriefed on Nico’s fulfillment. A collection of comments such as, “I’m fucking jealous…”, “Did you see the way he looked at you? Fucking sexy…”, “God, I hope it’s me next,” made you squirm in your seat.

Your mission from all of this was to make Zane proud, but it wouldn’t hurt if you gifted yourself a slight ego-boost in the meantime, right?

“You did… fucking perfect. I think you’re riling them up—riling me up too, actually,” he muttered, briefly maneuvering your hand to demo the boner in his shorts before returning back to his duties as the host. “Okay, settle down! Babe? Next spin, please? Think the team’s getting a little antsy.”

You surveyed the room again. Nico was subtly pushing down on his crotch while Drew, Tom, and Oliver were casual about it, openly massaging themselves through their shorts, their eyes wandering towards you with repose. If you hadn’t had the decency to look away, you could’ve indulged in their thick prints for a little longer.

But duty called. You reached for the bottle and spun it, bating the men with the suspense of who was going to be next in line in warming you up.

The crown of the bottle stopped parallel to Taylor, who was slouched on his elbows like he’d been expecting it—rigged it with his mind if telekinesis was more than hypothetical. He greeted you with provocation, flashing his brows and a smug smile all at once, then a wink, before joining you in the middle. You always found him intimidating. It was probably those eyelashes of his. They were always fluttering, even when you would go over his notes—he would blink and stare once knowing it was effective enough to render you speechless. As naive as it sounded—it felt like Taylor was adept to anything and everything, including whatever he was about to do to you.

And you were absolutely correct in that hypothesis—because Taylor immediately began stripping you down. It was inevitable, but you didn’t expect all of you to be bared within the second spin.

“Seems like Taylor’s on a mission.” Oliver laughed, catching your briefs and taking a whiff at it before passing it to the group. One by one, you watched each person press their nose to the center of your briefs, and inhale. Comments on the smell of your arousal made your dick twitch again. Harder, when Drew and Oliver engrossed themselves in the fine stain of pre-cum and took multiple lingering whiffs in hounding the sweet musk again. You’d think you laced them with some kind of potion—an elixir that amplified their excitement through every vein in their body, from hands to cock.

From head to toe, your clothes came off and were tossed aside, and you let Taylor’s spirit of inquiry explored as he pleased. Sprawling your arms and legs out like he was frisking you, smacking the back of your thighs like he was a butcher examining the quality of fresh meat. You groaned when he loitered at your naked body, noticing the constellation of goosebumps on your chest to the dimples on your backside—all with a glaze of his hand. Taylor’s fingers followed every contour of your body—from spine to muscle—studying you and the smallest reactions you’d spare him with pleased eyes as he smacked, kissed, smoothed, and licked the canvas that was made of skin and bone. You were a sculpture carved by the Renaissance, and Taylor was a curator, assessing your value through the warmth of his mouth, the slick of his tongue, and the kneads of his hands.

“Oh, what do we have here?” His mouth was on your stomach, closely tending to the warm skin with kisses, while his hand was on your rump, prodding at the plug that had been confined in you for the entirety of the day. “Guys, jackpot. (M/N) came with a surprise.”

“I-it wasn’t my idea—“ Heat rose high to your neck when Taylor turned you around and showed your ass off to the ogling group of men. While he was at it, he mind as well brand you with a price tag—right on your ass cheeks, where Taylor smacked each side once, massaging them with a firm knead, and spread you open.

“Holy shit…” Tom muttered while he stood on his knees, taking in the sight of your plugged hole. You impulsively squeezed your thighs together, covering your growing erection at the marveling shared between the six men. There was a wonder in Zane’s expression, resembling the first time he undressed you before his very eyes.

“You like teasing us, don’t you?” Drew said when your glutes tensed, and the room hummed with the soft susurrus of agreement. “Pretty thick ass too, jesus—“

“Time,” Zane stopped the alarm after a ring, sighing in between kneads to his bulge.

Five of the guys collectively groaned from the cliff-hanger while Taylor gave your hard ass a smack in midst of returning to his seat. “See how considerate I can be? You’re welcome, fellas!”

You jolted, gulping at the budding sting. It was becoming a habit to seek for Zane’s approval after every turn, and fortunately you did—because unbeknownst to Taylor, Zane was staring him down, a furious and annoyed look on his face that quickly simmered when he caught your gaze.

“Spin, please.”

The next stop was Tom—Eager Tom. He’d been making comments on your body since he stepped foot inside the apartment, so it was expected that his turn would be based on personal whims. Although, you reckoned that the plug inside of you turned the tides.

Making you kneel on all fours, Tom slowly twisted the plug in and out of you while the group gathered from behind and intimately watched. You clenched at the base, stifling your groans into the back of your hand upon the group’s growing fascination with the sight of your swelling pucker.

“Fuck, look at that pretty rim…” Oliver mumbled, and Tom took it as a hint to trace the border of your hole with his finger, lone yet devious.

“If it looks that appetizing, imagine how it tastes,” Drew covertly suggested.

Tom hummed in thought while toying thoughtlessly with your hole—into your hole. “Not much of an ass-eater, maybe I should hand that task off to someone more capable… What do you think, (M/N)?”

“P-please… anyone is fine—”

As the tip neared its exit, you desperately held onto the last bit of latex that kept you from baring it all—thighs vibrating from the difficulty, toes curling as Tom screwed—but your muscles were as weak as Tom’s patience, and you naturally gave into his tortuous wrenching, clamming up him when he suddenly plunged the plug back into you, then completely bloomed—when Tom finished you off with a tyrannical yank.

“O-oh, god!” You yelped loud as you bared yourself for the group. Deep waves of heat trampled over your body and swam into every course of vein as one person after the other, from Tom to Drew to Nico to Oliver to Taylor to Zane, moaned in chorus at the sight of your budding insides.

Your chest laid flat on the floor, your glasses tossed and forgotten, your hips and ass raised high, your cock throbbed towards the floor—you suddenly buckled your hips when you felt a wad of spit launched directly at your blinking hole.

Then another, and another, and then three consecutive more, until your hole felt completely, and utterly drenched—one from every man you presumed as you laid there, writhing and dripping.

“Fuck, so pretty when it’s glistening like that,” Tom groaned. You could hear fabrics moving, see clothes coming off when you peeked from your position, and your cock throbbed at the smallest glimpse of Tom’s naked body, followed by Oliver’s, and then so on.

“Time,” Zane said again, then a second later rescinded his announcement, rubbing an affectionate hand over your back for you to look up. “Actually, fuck this—baby, you’re okay with us starting now? I don’t think we can handle it anymore… yeah?”

“Y-yeah, no—I can’t wait any longer—oh!” Suddenly, you felt something wet breach your hole. Unrelenting in its expedition as it flicked and wiggled the group’s load of spit inside of you, sliming you up from inside and out.

“Sorry, (M/N). Drew hasn’t had dinner yet—come on, up and at ‘em,” Oliver steered you back on all fours with a rough pull to your shoulders, and knelt himself before you. He pushed your hair back once, admiring the sweat beading over your hairline, the increasingly dismayed look on your face when someone—Taylor—spread and smacked your ass apart for Drew to lick and devour inside you completely. “And neither have you. Open.” You couldn’t even hesitate as Oliver worked at lighting pace. He hooked his thumb into your mouth, pulled it open, spat a thick load of spit where your tongue deftly caught it, and pushed his thick cock into your mouth—all in one neck-braking motion.

“Fuck…” Oliver moaned at the warmth of your mouth. His eyes rolled, but the sight of your lips wrapped around his veiny dick was holier than the overhead lights spotlighting you from above, so he did his best to maintain his composure, working your mouth open with the girth of his cock—slow and steady.

At least Oliver was generous enough to not shove himself down the back of your throat, but still—your throat spasmed nonetheless when he shoved himself deeper with a tug to your nape. Upon the hit to your throat, you abruptly pushed him out with your tongue and a gag, launching into a coughing fit.

“Loosen up on him, will you? He bruises easily,” Zane muttered, noticing Oliver’s fingers turning eggshell-white upon taking your name in his hand. Although, that didn’t stop Zane’s hand from fisting his cock. If anything, it pulsed merrily at the sound of your throat resisting.

“He’ll use his safe words, right? You’re fine? Tell me if you need a break,” As much as Oliver was large and imposing, his body a thick and study mass akin to Zane’s, his eyes were made of sugar. An uncanny color for those soluble carbohydrates, but it was fitting, considering your body melted from the way he looked fondly at you and petted at your cheek. “Pretty.”

“I-I’m fine…” You said with a bated breath and nodded to Oliver with assurance. Then again, when Zane’s hand pushed your hair back and remained on the crown of your head. “I’m fine. Promise.”

“I know. I trust you.” He bent down to soothe the swell of your lips with a lingering kiss before delivering a smack to your ass and pulling away with a renewed disposition. “Suck his cock like how you suck mine. Properly, this time.”

“Fuck—“ Your body propelled forward from the never-ending feast on your puckering hole. Out of curiosity, you peered over your shoulder and instantly found yourself regretting it. It was unavoidable. Your cock leaking in agony, watching Nico, Taylor, and Drew take turns at licking stripes over your hole. Hungry animals.

On Drew’s turn, he caught your gaze in midst of his licks and came to a sudden halt. He then widened his tongue over your crack and with a leaden pace, laved his tongue over your crease like he was cleaning the last bit of crumbs off his plate, smug and teasing in his scheme to make you break.

“No more distractions, yeah? That’s not the way you treat your boyfriend’s friends.” A grappling hook to your nape tore your eyes back to your front, and your mouth was instantly filled again with the heavy weight of Oliver’s musky cock. Your hands were braced on the floor, clutching at nothing but the installed security of wood panels, as Oliver rocked into your mouth. Your cheeks hallowed progressively, adapting to the stretch of your mouth when he tested the depth of your throat numerous times before finally committing and sinking his cock into the back of your mouth, into your throat, with one gratified push.

“Good boy. Hold it, hold it, don’t move. Just relax…” Zane heartened by your right side, reaching in between your legs and fondling with your cock as he’d been doing with his own. Upon the welling of tears, you clamped your eyes shut for comfort, and nearly choked back on your own spit, impulsively squeezing around Oliver’s cock.

“Oh, shit… holy fuck, guys.” Tom was marveling at your left. You peeked your eyes open and caught a glimpse of his hand spit-shining his long, veiny cock, twisting deliciously eager over his plump glans near your temple, the sticky sound of his spit loud and clear in your ear. “Jesus, Zane wasn’t lying when he said you could take dick like no other.”

Oliver’s balls were pressed flush to your chin, your mouth was stuffed into the unshaven hairs of his pubic area, your nostrils was flared from arousal at the salty scent of the dried sweat within vicinity, and your throat was plugged with a glorious amount of thick and heavy cock.

“There we go, that’s it. Good,” Oliver moaned, tenderly massaging your nape while cutting off the supply of oxygen at the same time. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Doing everything we want, huh?”

“Mmfgh!” Your moans muffled in the cramming of his swollen cock as Oliver began patting and squeezing your cheeks, tightening the suction of your mouth by curling his body overhead, and simply pushing deeper.

Swelling harder, throbbing, the longer you endured. You’d learned how to breathe through your nose when it came down to this, but you still had difficulties relaxing your tongue. It wasn’t surprising when ample amounts of saliva began leaking out of your mouth. More spilled out when Oliver pulled you back a centimeter, only for the course of action to halt with another plunge of his cock, somehow sinking deeper down your throat.

“Think he can fit another one?” Nico halfheartedly joked, the last one to crawl over and join the group in their sight-seeing. His cock was hard, veins bulging in a way that made you delirious because Oliver alone was enough to make you overwhelmed in the best way possible.

You couldn’t possibly imagine another cock lodged in.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, right, babe?” Zane tugged on your cock harder. He pulled at your balls, thumbed the piss-slit, and stroked your shaft with the pre-cum that had been dripping in solitude. “So wet, you’re so fucking wet from being used like this.”

Finally, you were graced with the precious taste of air. Oliver slowly pulled his dick from the depth of your throat, and the group moaned at the sight of your throat simultaneously deflating from its bulge.

Your throat was sore, but it was worth it. Moving your eyes from one man to another, it was finally registering what a dream this was. All of them were exceptionally fit with sweat proudly highlighting their training. All of them sported deliciously thick erections with multiple sights of pre-cum dripping like molasses to taunt you. What was more important was that all of their eyes were on you—something as minuscular as a blink would set them off, and they’d restart the non-existent staring battle between you and the group again.

They were as breathless as you were, and your heart was pumping with the sickening volume of their cocks being cordially stroked, their pecs and biceps brawny and bouncing from the exhilaration you’d been supplying them.

It was fucking worth it.

Under Zane’s conducting, the team flipped you onto your back, cushioning your body with multiple throw pillows, and surrounded themselves around you again, where you could properly watch them pleasure their cocks with the lube Zane had distributed as they kneeled over you. Then, Taylor made the decision for himself to slot his body beneath you, embracing you from behind and using his arms around you to hold your legs and hips back, positioning his freshly lubed cock near your hole.

“You smell good,” Taylor commented at the scent of your cologne, kissing madly into your neck as he found the source. You gulped, feeling him staring again through those eyelashes of his. With one hand, he turned your cheek to face him, his lips nearing and over yours, but never meeting. Lingering, breathing, gazing, indulging—you both surveyed each other’s features. Watching your soft but swollen lips, watching his sharp but pleading eyes. He pushed himself in without as much of a warning—and then watched the enlightened expression on his face, the immense rapturing of yours. For a moment, you swore you could’ve seen something other than lust in Taylor’s eyes, but he punctuated the delusions straight out of you with an unbearable thrust, and you never looked back. You gasped at the girth of his cock stretching you out, and his breath hitched at the spontaneous clenching your tight hole was bestowing him. “Fuck…”

You breathed out a whimper, and your parted mouth was immediately seized with the taste of Tom’s thick cock as he kneeled over your body and thrusted himself selfishly down your throat. Deeper, when Tom found your gags to be indecently enticing and feeding into his cock veins.

To make everything all the more dizzying, your hands were taken and wrapped around a pair of throbbing cocks; Zane and Nico’s in your left, Drew and Oliver in your right. Every contact point on your body, from Taylor’s dick pressing deep inside of you, to Tom’s succulent cock bulging your cheek, to Zane, Nico, Oliver, and Drew rubbing against their respective partner and fucking into your closed fist, burned.

“You love being full of cock, don’t you? Look at you… pleasuring the six of us at once. Come on, use your mouth. Suck Tom off, you can do it,” Taylor mouthed at your shoulder, the warmth of his breath tickling you, and then a complimentary bite to your shoulder—making your pulse run high. His grasp on the back of your raised thighs was warring as he used his core to beat his thick cock inside of you and pummel you open.

You cried around Tom’s cock, Taylor’s balls slapping your taint with every exhilarating thrust and feeding into your indulgence. Tom was noble. You already had enough on your plate; stroking two thick cocks per hand and enduring Taylor’s aggressive fucks. The intricate position you were in made it more difficult for you to suck him off, so Tom took matters into his own hands, and used your mouth as he pleased. His hands were behind his head as if they could stabilize the swimming lewd thoughts. You peeked at the utter state of bliss he was in, and your cock throbbed at the sight of his body. His chest full, his pits trimmed, his built expertly trimmed with fine and intricate muscles, especially so whenever he sunk in his stomach and flexed from the heat of your throat. You were salivating not only because the taste of Tom’s cock was so delightfully salty, but also because you were surrounded by such gorgeous men—a heaven of greek gods.

You felt reborn.

The kiss is all-consuming when Tom pulled himself out to press his lips against yours, making you sit up on Taylor’s lap. When his tongue pried your mouth open effortlessly, electricity shot down your spine, only for it to sear back up with the vicious pounding Taylor was giving you. “You taste like my dick, you like that?” Tom inhaled every ounce of breath you dispelled into his mouth. Broken sounds of whimpers and moans, a confusing yet compatible elixir that Tom drank up, and poured it back down your throat when he licked deeper into your mouth. He licked and nipped at your lips, tangled your tongue with his, and stole your breath with the eagerness of his mouth on yours that hadn’t seem to be faltering.

Heat flushed through your veins when each person took a turn to your mouth. The straddling position allowed the group to enclose themselves around you, the air thickening and weighing heavier than the swing of their cocks. Five heavy dicks surrounded your face while Taylor’s continued to swell beneath you, turning you inside and out as his hands on your hips hardened. It was an insoluble dilemma of your sexual appetite. You were starving for something to fill your mouth, but who—was the dilemma you were faced with.

“So big, fuck—“ You caught yourself drooling at the sight of their cocks dripping for you.

You behaved like a wanton, catching Oliver’s pre-cum with your tongue before sucking hard on Zane’s cock, then simultaneously stroking Drew and Nico over your shoulders ardently. The smell of Tom’s and Oliver’s salty cocks rubbing over your face made you vigilant and heightened your arousal to a crescendo. Eagerly, you replaced Zane’s cock with the two men, and moaned when the uncomfortable stretch they had provided made you stiffen around Taylor’s shaft.

“Shit, I’m going to—“ Taylor warned, his large hand splayed on your sweaty lower back while he wallowed in the confines of your walls, squeezing and clamping around his bristling cock.

Your mouth was stretched, saliva dripping from either corners of your lips, the crown of their dicks thick enough to shut your trap without so much as touching your throat. The wonderful sounds of their moans made the strain on your jaw well-worth the ache you were surely going to feel the effects from tomorrow onwards.

“Taking two cocks at once—never seen that before, Christ…” There was a vacant space in the middle of your mouth. Tilting your chin up, Oliver pushed a wad of spit into the opening—smug as he watched it fall into the void, somewhere in the back of your throat.

“He’s a horny little thing, isn’t he?” Tom followed in Oliver’s steps, spitting inside of your mouth. Two people were enough to set off a chain reaction as the rest of the group quickly joined. Nico, Drew, and Zane added their own shipment to the pooling spit haul, and they all watched in awe when you relaxed your tongue and let it drain into the back of your throat as one load.

The dehumanizing exploitation of your body turned sweat into goosebumps, and you were eager to be covered in welts by the time you were done.

Your entire body lit up at the attention the men were giving you. Taylor fucked you harder, his hands bruising on your body. Nico and Drew occupied the sloppy void that was your mouth when Tom pulled out to join Zane in kissing your flushed neck, and Oliver tended to your abandoned cock with his hand, stroking and twisting your knob. You choked on the two cocks as they attempted to fuck your mouth. It was a constant collision on your tongue and cheeks, where loads of spit pooled and dripped for a messy bustle, and you wouldn’t let them out of your mouth until Taylor delivered one strong thrust, and emptied himself inside of you. The sudden launch of his cum erupting inside made you pull away with a bated breath and moan, your body writhing as he flooded your insides.

“Fuck!” He shouted from behind you, clawing into your inner thighs while your ass was pumped with the warmth of his thick cum. Warm spurts continued to paint you from the inside as Taylor resumed his hips for a few more seconds, dumping every seed that he could push out deep inside of your violated hole, until his sack was emptied.

“Don’t let it leak out,” Drew hoisted you off of Taylor’s limp and recovering body, and pushed you back onto all fours, your head in between Taylor’s legs. “—and clean him up. Not a drop wasted, got it?”

“M-mm, yeah—fuck!” When you began licking at the underside of Taylor’s softening cock, your hole was back to being occupied again with the hung curve that was Drew’s dick. He didn’t waste a single second in making you squirm. With both hands tucked into your pelvis, Drew used your body as leverage while fucking madly into you.

“Fuck—look at you, you’re creaming all over my dick,” the sounds were delectable. Soft and creamy with every thrust Drew delivered to your ass—you felt some cum splatter onto your back from how hard he was fucking into you. As much as your asscheeks stung from the way his thighs clapped against your flesh, you were relishing every second of it with Taylor’s cock in your mouth, languidly swiveling your tongue and lapping up remnants of his seed until he was pristine.

The rough spanking marked you as Drew’s in the moment. You felt guilty for thinking it, but it was placed in good faith. HIs palm seared your stinging ass, reminding you to tend to the others. You do, your vision blurry and hazy, but you took whatever cock wanted to enter your mouth. Tom’s, Oliver’s, Nico’s, then Zane’s—they all tasted incredible and if you were allowed to, you could see yourself coming right then and there—simply from sucking cock—cocks.

You thrived in rough hands. Drew’s, Zane’s—anyone’s. Your skin throbbed when Zane and Nico slapped your cheeks with their cocks, and your asshole spasmed when Drew sealed himself within you, pushing every drop of seed until he slumped over the curve of your back, toppling you onto the ground with his weight. Even then, he pushed into your squirms, his cock buried deep into your ass, refusing to pull himself away from the sickening pleasure.

“Up and at ‘em, (M/N). Not done yet,” Oliver smiled and pulled you onto your feet, positioning himself behind you.

“Fuck—Zane…” You called out to him, bracing yourself on the arm of his couch as your muscles were still stirring awake from their sleep.

He approached you, quick in his steps, immediately tending to your non-existent wounds. His fingers through your hair, his hand over your cheeks. “What—you’re okay? What do you need? Too much? Fuck—Drew, I told you to go easy on—”

“N-no, no! I’m okay—fuck, I—I love this… so much… So much cum inside of me, god—” You were in a dreamlike state, drunk on the lights overhead you were mistaking for stars. Reality blurred even more when you felt Oliver take your wrists with one strong hold, holding them over your back, and pushed himself inside of you with one strong thrust. “Fuck!”

“Loosen up, dude. Your boy’s enjoying it—see? Taking our cocks like it’s a fucking olympic sport,” Oliver cruelly laughed, ignoring the twisting of Zane’s face as he focused on the absolute bliss on your face, holding you parallel to his body, to the sharp thrusts he catapulted upwards into your sloppy hole. “All the cocks that’s been inside of you, but you’re still so fucking tight. You going to loosen anytime soon? Hm? Too much of a slut to let that happen, right? I know you feel me in your guts, (M/N). You look fucking beautiful taking my dick so effortlessly.”

Drips of cum were leaking out of you. You could feel it trailing from your creamy hole, then down to the back of your slick tensed thighs as Oliver fucked you while standing.

Unlike Drew, Oliver didn’t need to brand you with hard spanks to your body. His hammering cock was enough, hollowing you with ease, the crown assaulting your sweet spot with ease—everything Oliver did was with ease, and it was further aided as you let yourself go limp. He fucked you bent over the arm of the couch, then when he had enough, you were back to being fucked standing. His arms looped around your pits, then interlocked behind your neck in support of his thrusts. His cock was ruthless in your ass, spearing and ruining your hole for anyone else to come after him. Your tender hole was brutally stretched around his swelling cock, your body burning up from the hold he was restraining your body with. Oliver whispered praises for your endurance, kisses you on the neck, then the shell of your ear for providing him a pleasure that would be the blueprint for the rest of his hook-ups. He straightened his knees, pushing himself balls deep into you, and in one long groan from his gut, spilled deep inside of you.

“Bet you feel so full, don’t you? Fuck…” Oliver grabbed his dick at the base and squeezed the remaining spurts inside of you before pulling out, flicking any remnants of cum over your bruised ass cheeks.

You moaned for him. The third load in your ass, and your heart was aching because you were another man closer to concluding the night.

It was open, dripping in cum, and then immediately seized when Nico pulled you onto his lap to join him on the couch. You felt like a rag doll—pulled, tossed, and thrown however one was pleased to treat you. As long as your hole was still functioning and remained at their disposal, neither of the men had any complaints about marking your body with a few scuffs.

Nico faced you to the group, your back planted against him. You whimpered when your tired limbs were hoisted once again as he hooked his arms under your knees, and then raised your legs up to position your dripping hole over his cock. Your hole had become a luscious swell of gape. The group marveled at the sight of your puffy rim, beautifully creamed by the pleasure of Taylor, Drew, and Oliver respectively.

“Holy shit, he’s fucking hollowed out…” Tom muttered, stroking himself to the sight of your insides blooming for everyone to see.

“Shit’s getting me horny again,” Taylor laughed, tugging on his flaccid cock, his body still recovering from the high he had inflicted upon himself moments prior.

Supporting your body with his arms, Nico raised your legs higher, bending them back until your knees hovered near your temples, and then locked his hand around your neck to hold you in place. Your mouth fell agape at the stretch of your muscles, and heat spread throughout your body as the group watched Nico’s cock breach your opening with a slow shove, pushing the leak of cum back inside of your guts.

Your hands trembled as you guarded your position on the couch upon Nico folding you back and feasting on your insides with his length. You felt Nico’s thighs tense, pushing up into you with all his might while your gaze locked with Zane’s. He gulped at the unholy sight of your hole being raptured—hungrily being excavated with Nico’s throbbing tool. Nico’s cock was covered in the recent load stuffed inside of you, an increasing sheen the more he fell into a rhythm, and rutted into you aimlessly, chasing after his fill. He slid in and out of you easily, the ample amount of cum replacing any need for to renew his dick with lube.

You and Nico panted in union. His heavy cock stretched you open, and Nico apologized with a blistering kiss to your shoulder, as if fucking you couldn’t be the apology itself. When you alternated your gaze to Tom, he looked almost predatory. Eager like he had always been, but something internal was running thin—Tom’s patience. He scooted closer, watching you take Nico’s fat cock with scalding envy. While your hole took the screwing, Tom caressed the rim of your asshole. You were loose enough for what he wanted to do to you. Carefully, Tom pressed one finger against the underside of Nico’’s cock, and you choked back on your moans, throwing your head back at the sudden tightness as Tom slipped a finger inside of you. Nico continued rocking, occasionally slowing to accommodate Tom as he worked three fingers inside of you.

“T-Tom, that’s too much—“

“But it feels good though, right? You seem to like it when it’s too much.”

Spitting on his own cock, Tom massaged the layer of lube in before lining himself with your occupied opening. Your eyes widened in stupefied anticipation—in arousing fear—yet you brought your hands over to spread your ass cheeks for him, for Tom to force his cock into your body alongside Nico’s length, and you cried with the double breach.

“M-mmfgh! Fuck…!” You cried out, your eyes rolled in the sockets, leaving only the whites of your eyeballs visible as Nico and Peter began moving in opposite rhythms.

“Fuck, Tom—your dick feels so good against mine, holy crap—“

With an animalistic groan, you pushed your ass out, greedily taking the two cocks into your gut despite the uncomfortable stretch signaling for you to stop and rethink about this decision unfolding before your very eyes.

Not long after, Nico and Tom pumped their hips in harmony, filling you over and over. Cum would trickle out from Tom joining, but he was quick to pull himself back out and scoop it back inside of you with a deep plunge that made the three of you reduce yourselves to nothing but guttural moans. You felt Nico’s body tense beneath you, coercing your own to tighten at the core.

Holding your thighs, Tom pushed into you to the hilt while Nico followed suit. They shuddered with ecstasy, growling like wild beasts from the natural impulse to clamp your sloppy hole around them. Their cocks were rubbing against one another, harder, faster, as they fucked themselves inside of you, opening you more than you had thought was imaginable at a relentless pace. You mewled, collapsing back onto Nico’s hold as your body rocked from the powerful thrusts as if you were caught in a tide.

You felt your own cock throb at this, balls tightening and stroking your cock to the sound of Nico in your ear and Tom at your lips, panting into your mouth in between messy kisses. You were wrecked, completely and utterly ruined as they rocked their shafts into you in opposite strides now. One would hit your sweet spot while the other pulled himself out to renew that fresh stretch of your rim again as they pushed with conviction. Between labored breaths, you searched for Zane over Tom’s shoulder, your heart beating faster and faster as he seemed to be mesmerized by the display of your sheer dedication in following in on your promise to make him feel like the luckiest man on Earth.

Faster. Harder. Deeper. In a matter of seconds, you all came together. Your body spasmed and writhed between their own twitching, your hole clenched around the erupting cocks, your own dick throbbed and spurted out creamy ropes onto your body. Their hips were unrelenting, frothing the thick cum sent deep into your crevices with writhing and swollen flesh, and you slumped, Nico’s released hold relieving your muscles as your body shifted back and forth from the two cocks milking themselves until their shafts softened.

At the thought of Zane—the last man that you would be taking—your position came to you unbidden. Scrolled over the arm of the couch again, you felt comforted by the ample leg room, stretching your muscles for the final act while Zane prepared himself behind you, laving his cock over your crevice, submerging himself in the wetness that your raw hole was dripping out. You were depraved of touch—Zane’s touch—you barely spent a minute with him in between stationing yourself with every men. All except him.

“They did a real number on you…” Zane muttered in your ear. His left hand caressed the tense muscles in your back before joining his right in steering you by the shoulders, his grip clutching a bruising shade into your skin. “Suddenly I don’t matter anymore, hm? You only call me over to show yourself off—showing off that dripping hole of yours.” Unsolicited moans drew out of you with the push of Zane’s hips, fitting his cum-covered cock over your crevice, as a way to soothe the swelling of your puffy rim, but also to ridicule your newfound addiction. “Showing off what was mine—that has now been ruined by five other fucking men. Fuck, I saw the way you were looking at them. All of them. You reek of them too, fucking slut.” He deliberately pressed his swollen cockhead to your ring of muscle, swirling and tracing the circumference, only to move back a centimeter and slide himself right by, pressing his shaft against you instead.

You whimpered, circling your hips back for more of Zane, to apologize to him with the warmth of your hole, to make up for your lack of attention towards him by letting him milk himself inside of you—like you’d done for the others. “I-I’m sorry—Zane, please—“ Your breath hitched when Zane wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you against his imposing chest, arching you forward.

“So, you want my cock now? Five dicks weren’t enough? You need mine to feel satisfied? Face the group. Tell them how much you love my cock,” squeezing your cheek, he forced your head to turn to his friends. They stirred in their seats, their hands back to fisting their erections again.

“I-I love Zane’s cock… I love the way he fucks me—no—the way he makes love to my hole, the way he fills me up to the brim with his thick cum, the way he milks himself and breeds me. I love that he takes his time with me, s-shows me that I’m more than just a doll for fucking,” With the way you were looking; panting from the amount of dick you had taken for the past hour, sweating from the thickened sex in the air, dripping from the loads that marked their battle claim on you; you evoked a fever that spread from one end of the circle to the other. One by one, they gathered closer, inhaling the scent of your arousal—their sex, their seed deeply embedded into your body like you had no other choice but to use them as cologne.

“I-I love that he fucks me—like he loves me,” you peeked over your shoulder to look back at him with groveling gratitude. Was it a mistake to admit this for the first time? In this moment? Where it was confessed to the public, rather than solely to Zane? Your heart raced, and Zane was well-aware as he pacified you with doting affection on your chest, roaming his free hand over the plane, tweezing your perky nipples while his other hand at your throat maintained. You brought a hand up to hold his nape, to hold you close to you because—you’d been separated from your boyfriend for far too long. You were malfunctioning, throwing yourself to every man who wanted to please you and that swollen hole of yours, and you needed Zane to ground you back to him.

And ground you he did—Zane humbled you in the process, evidently satisfied with your short monologue as the kiss he honored you with was deep and enthralling. He poured all sorts of emotion in your mouth, explored it with his tongue in midst of tucking his feelings inside of you, muttered incoherent words of affection while he was drunk on your breath feeding his lungs with life.

“I love you,” he tucked the confession into the shell of your ear and punctuated his returning feelings with one sharp charge of his thrust. The previous loads within you permeated—saturated deep into your flesh—as Zane congested your guts with his large cock, making you wail on his slow, but bellicose hips. “I. Love. You.” Zane repeated in your ear, following up with every one of his thrusts. His cock was methodical inside of you. Screwing what was loose, tightening your walls like his cock was a hammer to secure you around his girth. You felt yourself tip-toeing the floor, the thrusts catapulting your body from Zane’s strength, but there was not a second where you didn’t feel safe. His hold on you—driving into you with his cock, restricting your limbs while he showered you with the most heart-fluttering compliments—he was your sanctuary, the holiest of all places, and you felt revived.

He had his hand over your throat, vaulting your moans with a clamp, pushing you back onto your heel, but as soon as he came up again and delivered those rapturing thrusts, you returned to your natural stance on your tip-toes. You struggled to make sounds—loud mewls and whimpers that proved how absolutely fulfilling you felt in the moment. Your throat was sore and dry, and your body was exhausted and could only endure Zane for so long. You fell limp in Zane’s arms, tensing at the right moments where he penetrated your prostate. It was the unsolicited answer to your body malfunctioning.

The roll of your eyes, the spasming of your asshole, the gape of your mouth as silent moans thickened the air—you and Zane bonded as one. Your ass pushed back to meet his thrusts, creating an electrifying wave of thunderous sounds of sweaty and sticky skin clapping against each other. You felt your body ripple from Zane’s power, from his devotion to forge your hole to the shape of his cock, from his desperate need to tell you that he loved you with more than just his words. You felt every inch of him through your gut. Bent over the arm of the couch, your sweat dripped onto the leather while he fucked you against it, your skin chafing abrasively. Your knees constantly collided with the furniture, but you were too far gone, completely lost in a cycle of Zane’s affection that you didn’t realize your chin was being held up by Drew, jerking his cock over your face.

You blinked rapidly to ward off exhaustion and before you could comprehend the line forming behind him, your face was propelled with thick flying ropes of cum. Drew spilled all over you with a moan, aiming wherever, but mostly at the center. He shot at you hard, feeling himself splatter from your lips, then to your hair.

It happened rapidly, Zane’s hips seemingly quickening to sync with the group’s thunder-paced wrists. Taylor was the next person in line, pumping his hairy cock to the sight of Drew’s cum dripping off of your nose from the vigor force Zane was pummeling you from behind. With a deep grunt and a push of his hips, Taylor emptied his heavy sack, adding onto the layers of cum on your face.

You’ve seen it in the videos you’d watched. It was no good letting their hard-work go to waste. You tipped your head back and Tom helped, resting his hand at your hairline while he stroked his cock over the stains on your face. Again, he was another man to blow another thick load onto your face. Before he left, he made sure to wipe himself clean on your neck, embellishing you with his gratitude.

Then came Nico; the massive amount of loads on your face pooled as you patiently waited for his second high. Your vision was screwed, trying to peer through the cum dripping down your eyelids, but eventually you had to settle on shutting your eyes and anticipate blindly. Within seconds, you heard Nico grunt and moan, followed by another spillage onto your face. He aimed directly at your mouth, where you missed the first unforeseen shot, but quickly adapted and opened your mouth to hold his seed. The salty taste on your tongue bloomed, and whoever’s cum was trailing from the bridge of your nose, past your philtrum and into your open mouth was even saltier, making you writhe as the shudders were uncontrollable when you swallowed.

Finally, Oliver stepped up and amused himself to the heavy decoration weighing down on your face. Stroking his cock, he also played with the cum, dipping the crown of his cock into someone else’s load, scooping a white thread was dangling off your jaw and into your mouth, wiping your eyelids clean with his glans—because he wanted you to see this. He wanted you to watch him come on you with immense pride, to watch him pump the study veins in his thick cock as he indulged at the sight of your pretty eyes surrounded by the four prior men’s fulfillment. With gritted teeth, Oliver groaned from the depth of his gut and released his seed all over you. The group saved the largest load for last. Your eyes immediately clenched following one thick splatter to your lid, then the other, blurring your vision and stinging your eyes once again as Oliver targeted painting you from all corners of the face, including the ones he had helped wipe clean. He squeeze the last remaining seed, and flicked it onto your lips, groaning from the sudden sensitivity in his cock.

“Shit… you look so—” Zane groaned from behind you. He couldn’t stop marveling at it; the unholy sight of your face snowed under an ample amount of cum. The scent of the group’s sex drifted in the almost still air, and Zane ached inside of you.

You can feel the warmth emanating from his study body when he pushed his weight onto you, fucking into you harder and igniting the burn in your thighs. Peeking from one eye, your head was turned to where Zane claimed his rightful place on your lips again. His eyes flashed with hunger at the taste of someone’s cum dripping into your mouth, so he kissed harder, molding your hole to his cock and hammering into you at a breath-taking pace. There were multiple passageways the various pool of mixed semen were taking on your face. A web dangled off your cheek, a trail dripped in pursuit of the kiss, a wet clump was smushed between Zane’s nose and yours; you and Zane were a sloppy mess, and you both were baptized by the scent, the taste, and the feeling of it all.

You were gorgeous, your delicate state only adding to your appeal. One more look at you, and Zane grunted low. He reached between your thighs with his hands, so hard it hurt, and he was wild and strong, fucking into you madly while knocking your breath into a state of stasis. His hips smacked against your ass, faster and faster, and your body was up in flames. Every thrust felt punishing, like he wanted to condemn you for seducing him—for loving him—but if this was punishment, you needed to find more ways to anger him, to love him.

You whimpered into his growls, his firm hands pulled you impossibly closer by the thighs, clutching and fucking you back onto his cock, as he raptured himself into you. He stroked the inside of your mouth, his tongue feeling fat and warm, savoring the taste of salty seed on your tongue, and he groaned into you once more. He grunted and growled like an animal, powered by the group watching in awe, the ravenous noise reverberating through your guts, and you feel the eruption of cum dousing your flesh, deep in your guts, his large cock pulsating in you.

The pleasure hit you like a lightning bolt. Your thighs shook, your hole spasmed, and you rut against his swelling cock, pleasured and soothed by the warmth and thickness of his steaming cum. His release had him quivering against your back, his face tucked inside the crook of your neck while he rocked slowly, breeding you.

“So good, you’re so fucking good…” Zane muttered weakly, panting and mouthing against the back of your ear.

“So full—“ you groaned at the heavy weight of dick in you, then hissed when Zane bucked his hips once more, kissing the crown of his cock to the mouth of your prostate, as if it was a reminder for you that he owned you.

Obscene noises came from his cock plunging your ass with cum—more cum, as you struggled to contain another load, and felt it drip down to your ankles. You sighed, taking it all in—taking Zane in—and slumped over the arm of the couch, heaving a euphoric sigh of relief, relishing in the high-yielding pleasure that was Zane’s cock, dazzling by the lights above you—the stars.

“You guys okay?” laughing at the group’s sudden exhaustion, Zane refused to pull away from you. His hands curled around your hips, then carefully maneuvered himself to lie on the couch with him, still buried to the root of your hole.

“Better than a smoke,” Drew yawned, rubbing his large hand over your ankle by virtue of exceeding his expectations. Nico petted at your head, the spent look on your face charming when you turned towards him and weakly smiled. Tom and Oliver were quiet, still recovering from their orgasm. When you caught their gaze, they held up their thumb once before plummeting back onto the floor.

“Fuck, man—you were great,” Taylor slumped against the foot of the couch, limbs sprawled from the exhaust of muscles, but he joined in on the caressing of your leg, squeezing at your calf, nearly rendering you to sleep.

One by one, the group fell to a silence, a gentle slumber despite the hardwood floors forewarning a few of them of a back ache the next morning. You watched peacefully, the caressing of your body slowly coming to a halt, and then looked back at Zane, collapsed onto your back, drifting into sleep with the gentle snores near your ear.

Hopefully by morning—Zane would tell you that you fulfilled on your promise.

He was the luckiest man alive.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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