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azsazz · 6 months ago

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Over Ice

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I think we could really have fun with the different courts and Illyrian values on a thematic basis but ALSO if the reader is in something very artsy and hasn’t really been into sports and then she’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!! She decides to wear Cass’ jersey to make him mad and when he finally gets a hold of her after the game: *cue innocent shrug* he asked me to!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 3032

Notes: While I work on a plot for an azzy hockey x figure skater au, please enjoy a rhys hockey au 🤪

This was originally an Az idea but I thought it fit better for Rhys bby so here we are. I feel like I've forgotten how to write and this is shit (dont judge me im going thru smthin rn)

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A giant FU stares up at you.

Well, actually, it’s only an F, but it may as well be the former with the way it’s circled in thick, red ink.

Three. Fucking. Times.

Tears sting the back of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. It never feels good, failing, and even if you’d gotten a C+ like you hoped, you would’ve still beaten yourself up over the grade because plain and simple: that’s who you are.

Two months ago, at the beginning of the semester, psychology had seemed like a breeze. The lectures were easy to listen to and intriguing, and you had no trouble following along with the professors’ slideshows as you took detailed notes of everything on the screen. Your assigned readings were completed in a similar state, though they weren’t graded but included important information you’d find on the tests.

Somewhere along the line, your grade slipped, and you don’t remember if it had been between studying for Biology or reveling in your newfound freedom away from your parents, partying and enjoying a true college experience with your roommates.

Whatever happened, the repercussions are hitting you right in the face, the taunting letter you have never seen before on any of your assignments throughout all your years of learning.

If your parents saw this, they would bring the entire house down with their scolding.

It’s not like you didn’t try. You studied, even if the word is a loose term for what material you used. Things started piling up this month, with it being a new semester and all. You didn’t schedule out the time to focus on psychology when the classes you were really interested in—Introduction to Nutrition and Kinesiology—took first and second place for your attention. Plus, with the number of social events your best friends—who are also conveniently your roommates—invited you too, it was almost impossible to say no. Friends are a vital part of the college experience and you were in desperate need of some fun after having spent the summer lounging at home with your parents.

You found a psych support group that met at the library once a week to study together. It wasn’t anything like you thought it would be, a bunch of clueless students with grades similar to yours. All they seemed to want to do with your precious time was bitch and moan about the professor instead of actually trying to conquer the areas of study for the upcoming test.

And now the consequences of your actions have made themselves known.

Grumbling, you shove the test into your binder before shutting it with a snap that does nothing to ease your frustration. A few students still trail from the room, though most bolted right after being released. Some linger at the bottom of the lecture hall where the professor sits, answering their questions.

You have about a million-and-one of your own but you’re too worked up about your grade to go down there and hash it out with Mr. Hybern. His peppery colored hair is perfectly coiffed on this terrible day, his beard trimmed close to his jowls. His gleaming, golden skin makes you think that maybe he’d spent his weekend grading tests out in the sun, and you have half a mind to stomp your way down the stairs and demand a second review of your test.

It wouldn’t solve your irritation, and it would certainly be embarrassing if in fact your F is correct.

Placing your binder, notebook, and pens back into your bag, you zip it, sling it over your shoulder, and make your way to the exit, holding your chin high because if there’s one thing you’re not going to do, is cry over your terrible, awful grade in public.

The waterworks will just have to wait until you’re locked in your private bedroom in your shared dorm.

There is good news. It’s Friday, which means you can snag the pint of your favorite ice cream that your roommates won’t dare touch because ‘no ice cream that’s worth it should have fruit in it, that’s like asking for a steak on your spaghetti.’ You have no idea what Mor—one of your roommates—was on about when she brought up the awful comparison, and in reply all you’d done is scooped out a chunk of cherries embedded into the creamy, pink goodness and stuffed it into your mouth.

With it being the weekend, you can also wallow well into the night without having to worry about hiding your puffy eyes in the morning. You’ll have all day tomorrow to figure out a plan of action, once you allow yourself the time to properly grieve and process…and maybe have a drink or two.

You shoulder through the heavy lecture hall door with your head down, hiding the red stain to your cheeks. So, maybe you’re not going to hold you head high as you trail back to your dorm, but you will not cry.

The door swings open and you barely catch the noise of surprise before you’re barreling into something that’s akin to a brick wall. Your breath leaves your body in a whoosh and your balance slips out from under you, arms flailing as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never comes.

Slowly, mortified because you know exactly what’s cushioned your fall, you peek your eyes open, carefully meeting a sapphire gaze that surely would take your breath away should you have any left.

This close, you can see the perfection of his angular features: a long, straight nose, high cheekbones under the dusting of pink that caresses his own face. His lashes are dark as charcoal, the same color of his hair that looks as soft as silk.

Whatever it is that has you entranced by his beauty, the sentiment seems to be mutual. Those bright eyes trace across your features, carefully drinking you in. You don’t know if you’re thankful that your face is already as red as the marker on your test or if you want him to see the way your cheeks go molten.

There’s a warmth against your hips that you don’t notice until he speaks, his hands that have a solid grip around you, keeping you steady to his chest. His whispered breath brushes across your lips. “By all means,” he teases softly, “Take your time.”

“Oh, my Gods, I am so sorry,” you squeak, rolling off his chest. You can hear his chuckling as you scramble to climb to your feet, but your knees are so weak at the sight—and touch—of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lifting gracefully to his feet, holding a hand down to help you up.

You try not to notice just how big his hand is in yours, and for the second time today, you fail.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, displaying an easy grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. The door opens with a loud click and the both of you startle. His hand comes down warmly on your spine, ushering you out of the way of the student that’s beaming grin falters into apology at the idea of almost running you down, already on the phone with someone and gushing over their test result.

It��s hard to reign in your glare.

The student’s conversation seems to jolt the man out of his stupor. He blinks, shaking his head as if to rid him of a spell you might have cast on him, or maybe he’s testing to see if he has a concussion from the fall.

When he returns his attention to you, it takes everything in your power not to melt into a puddle beneath that gaze.

“Is Mr. H still passing out tests?” he asks, and you swallow the sourness that accompanies the name of your professor. You and he are not on good terms right now, not that this boy knows that.

“Yeah,” you answer, remembering you saw him sitting on his throne (desk chair) with his loyal citizens (students) kissing his feet (talking through their tests). “I think so.” Then, because you’re pretty sure you would remember a face like his if he were in your lecture, you ask, “Are you in this class?”

“No,” he answers with a scoff that tells you he breezed by this class. “I took Psych 101 freshman year, but I have Professor Hybern again for Cognitive Psychology and I need to turn in my paper early.”

Turning in a paper early? What is he, some kind of genius?

“Oh,” you answer lamely, “Cool.”

His answering grin cracks open the casing of the butterflies you didn’t know were living in your stomach, taking off in a flurry of emotion.

He shrugs like he couldn’t really care less about any of it, but to you, the fact that he’s managed to pass Psych 101 at all is an impressive feat, though you don’t know why he’d sign up for even more torture. “Sure. Look, I’ve got to run, but are you sure you’re okay?”

It’s nice of him to ask if you’re okay when he’s the one who had his back painted to the floor only moments ago. “Yeah, I’m fine, but I should be the one asking you that. Are you okay?”

His laughter is rich and warm, and you want to melt into it. Before you have the chance to make even more a fool of yourself in front of this handsome stranger, he answers. “I’ve been checked harder, darling. You have a nice day now.”

“Thanks, you too,” your words trail off as he catches the door on its next outswing, ducking inside without waiting for your response.

Jeeze, he must really be in a rush, then.

It’s when you exit the doors to the psychology building that you curse yourself. You should’ve gotten his number, his name at least. You could’ve invited him over for something more distracting and yummier than the ice cream you’d planned on demolishing.

At least you have something better to think about tonight than your test.

With a heavy sigh, you allow your backpack to fall off your shoulder. Now that you’ve arrived back to your dorm, you’re suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever.

The walk home from class had been nice, your time spent thinking about the boy you’d run into. The broadness of his shoulders you didn’t seem to notice until he turned away, stretching wide beneath his tight t-shirt. The bulge of his biceps beneath said t-shirt, flexing as he pulled the door open for himself. The shape of his ass in those snug jeans.

The sight of that is what had your eyes nearly popping from your head. What’s he doing that gives him such a bubblicious ass? Squats? Lunges? You can do those. You choose not to, but if there’s a guarantee that you’d have an ass like that, you’d start right this second.

Tucking your lip into your mouth in concentration, you plant your hands on your hips, making your way to the refrigerator that your ice cream is housed in, lunging your way there.

It’s not that far, the communal space in your shared dorm is small, but your heartrate is elevated by the time you’re two lunges away from your prize: your ice cream.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Mother!” You shout as the voice of your roommate breaks your concentration. Your knees wobble and your thighs shake, unable to hold you up from the burst of exertion you used. You clearly need to get into the gym more, another thing to add to your already busy schedule. “You scared me!”

Mor rolls her chocolate-brown eyes, sliding into one of the stools at your counter. It’s not built for it, the laminate countertop doesn’t hang over the island far enough for your legs to fit, but you and your roommates thought they were cute, nonetheless. You can suffer having to hunch over your knees to reach your cereal bowls in the mornings in favor of having more space for company to sit.

When you haul yourself off the ground, you take in your roommate. She’s wearing some kind of jersey, one you’ve never even seen in her wardrobe before, and you probably spend more time in there than her because she has every item of clothing you could ever imagine. The top she’s wearing now totally clashes with everything that screams Mor: silk scarves, tight bodice tops, leather pants, and what she has on now isn’t even red, a color that’s a staple in her closet.

“Well, if you were paying attention,” she scolds playfully, flipping open the compact in her hand, checking her makeup in the tiny mirror. She makes a few faces that would make you chuckle if you didn’t notice how she looks like she’s ready to go out, and that means she’s going to try to drag you with. “You would’ve heard me walk into the room. I am wearing heels, you know.”

Of course you know. Mor doesn’t do sneakers, only when it’s five in the morning and the sun is still sleeping, the perfect time for working out where nobody will catch her. Maybe I should join her, you think, mind wandering back to that boy’s butt.

“Why are your cheeks all red?” She asks, planting her palms on the counter and leaning towards you, eyes narrowed in inquisition.

“Nothing,” you wave her off, reaching for the door to the freezer. It’s the last thing between you and the cherry chunk ice cream calling your name.

Before you can open it more than an inch, it slams closed, Mor’s sharp, bright red fingernails splayed out to stop you.

Damnit, how does she move so silently?

“What do you think you’re doing?” You question each other at the same time, biting back your smiles at the mistake.

She answers first. “Why do you look like you’re about to get the ice cream, put your pajamas on, and wallow in bed all night?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” you cross your arms over your chest defiantly. “So, if you’ll excuse me…” You trail off, hoping she’ll step away and leave you to your peace.

She doesn’t. That’s not Mor.

“I had a rough day!”

“You say that every day,” she whines, stomping her heel-clad foot. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m inviting you to tonight?”

“From the look of your clothes, no, I don’t want to know what you’re doing tonight, Mor, and no, I don’t want to join you, either.”

Your roommate scrunches her nose, tipping it towards the ceiling. “I’ll have you know that this outfit is cute.”

“Yeah, if the definition of cute changed to ‘not pleasing or appealing to look at.’”

“You take that back,” Mor shouts, full naming you.

As your lips part in apology, because that was rude of you, your other roommate pads out of her room. Her reading glasses are perched up on her nose, blue eyes round and wide, and it always looks like she’s looking around the room in wonder. She has a blanket thrown over her shoulders and looks every bit of cozy you wish you were.

“Gwyn,” you sigh in relief at the sight of her. “Please, help.”

“I already said no,” she offers you a sympathetic wince. “I don’t think there’s any getting you out of the hockey game, sorry babe.”

Now it’s your jaw that falls to the floor. No, it falls through the floor and about five more floors down, hitting the lobby with a crack that echoes through the building.

You whirl on Mor. “Hockey game? Since when have you been interested in hockey?”

“Since my cousin got named team captain this year,” she says smugly, and you don’t know why she’s acting vain, it just means that he’s captain of the douchebags now, even you know that. Mor turns, showing off the back of her jersey. The number one stands out like a beacon, and you brush her blonde hair over her shoulder to read the smaller patches spelling out what is in fact, her family name.

Cunningham.

“Think of all the parties we’ll get into,” she says over her shoulder, and she does have a point there. The athletes at your college are a group of students that you don’t ever interact with, nor do you care. Mor is all about connections though, and if she wants to go to the hockey game, then it looks like you’re going with her.

You wonder what excuse Gwyn used to get out of it. She looks mighty comfy right now, slinking over the plop down on the couch and turn on a movie.

“Why do we have to go to the game? Can’t we just go to the parties?” You ask, grasping for anything to get out of this. You don’t want to go sit in the cold arena and watch a bunch of guys wearing full-body padding slide up and down the ice. Why couldn’t her cousin have been on the baseball team? They have nice, tight uniforms.

“Because,” Mor emphasizes with a glare, spinning to face you once more to give you the full effect of her irritation. “I’m a good cousin, and if we don’t attend the games, we’re going to be blacklisted from the parties,” she grumbles, the fight leaving her a little bit. “I’ve already argued about it with Rhys, I don’t want to have to argue with you too.”

It’s with your sigh that Mor brightens. “Fine. I’ll come with you, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And don’t expect me to cheer.”

Her squeal pierces the sound barrier. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Mor grabs your hand, dragging you towards the empty single room that’s left in your dorm. She uses it as an extension of her closet until someone else gets placed with you. So far, you’ve been lucky, living here since freshman year, just the three of you. “Great! I got you a shirt!”

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Over Ice Taglist:

#rhys x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #acotar au #rhysand hockey au #over ice

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dwaekkicidal · 7 months ago

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Sharing is Caring [3: HyunLix]

˚ʚHyunLix x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Hyunjin and Felix take after their leader, using their way to push your body just far enough past its limit.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 4.4k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, chanlix mxm mentions before the 1st divider, ot8 x reader mentions, chris x reader fluff in the very beginning, 'baby girl' and 'princess' used (1) time each, threesome, rough sex, mentions of chan/chris x reader and filming+sharing the video, hard(?)dom hyunjin, soft dom lix, overstimulation, filming, fingering, squirting, yellow from the light system is called (1) time, p in v (be safe about it irl), oral (f and Hyun receiving), spanking, slight aftercare mentions, that should be all?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: we dont talk about how late this is lol. Also sorry if the plot parts seem rushed >< I didn’t know what else to fluff it up with but there was already so many words so i left it as is lol

Sharing is Caring Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Chris’ hands roam up and down your back as the two of you lay on the couch in his dorm, you settled between his legs and draped lazily over his torso. His chin pokes at the top of your head as he strains himself slightly to look down, eyes sparkling with nothing but admiration and love. You stare up with a similar expression, a small smile taking over your features as the TV show is long forgotten.

“I’ve missed this.” His voice comes out hushed and quiet as he tries to keep this moment private, not taking even the slightest chance to wake up his roommates. It was super late into the night, past 2 am if you had to guess, and this was the first time in weeks he had gotten alone time with you.

You smile a little wider and nod, resting your cheek near his shoulder as a hand comes up to rest on his cheek. “It has been a while. The boys have been throwing me between each other so I haven’t had any alone time with you. Let alone one on one time with the others-'' He laughs before quieting himself again, “Yeah… They really have.”

A comfortable silence fills between you two for a while after that until you notice that Chris is making a weird face, a cute one though. It’s the face he makes when he’s thinking about something really hard so you poke him a few times, tickling him in an attempt to get an explanation out of him. He smiles at you again and thinks to himself as if he is trying to find the right words. “How do you think I should go about trying to sleep with one of the other boys?” The question makes you perk up and you stare at him with wide eyes.

“Sleep as in… have sex with?” You laugh lightly before laying back down against his chest. “Is this about Han?” He bites his lip and looks up at the ceiling. “Yes and no? Uh… basically that first night we opened up the relationship, Han told me that he messes around with Felix sometimes. I’ve always been interested in Lix, but it's gotten worse lately. I just don’t know how to go about it…”

You massage his ear as you get lost in thought, tenderly rubbing the area there in an attempt to calm his nerves. “I mean… realistically, you could just be honest with him. I mean, this is Felix we’re talking about. I don’t think you could offend him or cross a line with him even if you tried.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“If it would make you feel better, I can tell him that you want to talk about something and get the two of you some alone time. I can even distract the boys for you if you need it.” You both laugh and he nods in agreement.

He deems it bedtime not long after that, helping you to your feet before joining you on the short journey to his bedroom. Already being in your pajamas, you just throw yourself on his mattress and groan when he throws himself on top of you. Some giggles are exchanged before he normally lays on his back and pulls you into his chest, smiling to himself as you nod off.

“Good night, baby girl. I love you.”

It was around noon the next day when you woke up. You were used to the feeling of the bed being empty thanks to Chris’ tendency to leave early and head to the studio with the other two producers. However, today was a little different thanks to an unknown figure who throws themself on the bed behind you, wrapping their arms around you and whispering a deep “Good morning.”

Hyunjin walks into your vision and smiles sweetly, laying down in front of you and snuggling close to you. He shoves his face into your neck and places tickling kisses there as you come to your senses. Felix pokes his head out from behind you and pulls you to lay on your back before assaulting your face with kisses, causing you to smile and wiggle between the two of them.

After a while of cuddling and sleepy kisses, the three of you eventually get up in order to get some food in your stomachs. As you all ate, Felix explained that everybody else was busy doing their own things and he was lonely in the other dorm, so he came over to spend some time with you and Hyunjin. Then, once everybody ate, Hyunjin dragged you out to the living room to hang out with them despite your pleas to go back to bed and nap, which is how you all ended up cuddling on the couch watching Felix play Tekken (and losing miserably).

The boys sometimes snuck you kisses between rounds, conversing with each other and updating you about the newest songs or choreos as well as any promotions you were unaware of. You could tell something else was on their minds though. Between matches Felix would nervously bite his lip and try to sneak his hand to his neck, checking the pulse while he and Hyunjin exchanged weird faces at each other. You ignored it at first, but once Hyunjin started fidgeting from his spot beside you, you finally made them spit it out.

Now… Both men were aware of how you could squirt. Hell, the whole group was! They all witnessed it themselves when a 3-minute video was sent to the group chat a week ago: the video containing your lower half with Chris’ fingers shoved deep into your cunt that spewed a waterfall towards him and his phone’s lens. They all admitted how insanely hot it was, but ultimately moved on from it and hadn’t brought it up again. These two, however, just could not get it out of their heads. More so, they wondered if they could get you to that point and wanted to experiment.

And that is unfortunately how you found yourself in your current situation. An hour later with both men on each end of you; Felix sitting up on his knees with your head in his lap and Hyunjin between your legs, holding them open as he ate you out like it was the last meal he would get his hands on. They had spent the first 30 minutes or so minutes on foreplay, riling you up in all your favorite ways before you were even given the chance to undress. And since then, they managed to pull multiple orgasms from your body in this same position. They insisted on making you squirt their way instead of Chris’; meaning they slowly relaxed you and your body with foreplay for as long as they desired before using meticulous movements to overwhelm you.

“You can do it, love. You gotta make a mess for us so we can fuck you.” The deep voice in your ear pulls you back down to earth and you shiver in his hold when his fingers return to your nipples like they had before your last orgasm hit. You can only nuzzle your cheek further into his thigh, letting out pathetic moans as the onslaught between your legs continues. Hyunjin never once pulled away from you, instead mumbling his response against your clit while his fingers hooked themselves inside of you.

They could tell you were close again and they worked harder, desperately wanting to see you squirt with their own eyes, not through the pixels of their phones. You knew yourself that you were almost to that point, you could feel it in your bones, but you also weren’t used to the gentleness of things. Chris always bullied his fingers in you aggressively, though extremely pleasurable at the same time, so you needed a little something else to push you over the edge. And, somehow, the younger of the two was already way ahead of you.

One of his hands was removed from your chest and in the corner of your blurry eyes, you could see him reach for a thin black object. The sudden bell-like sound of a recording beginning was played right next to your ear. You blinked away the blurriness in your eyes and watched as Felix panned his phone down to Hyunjin’s face, zoning in on the tongue licking shapes into your clit. He then moved the phone right under your face and zoomed in, letting you get an enhanced sight of the boy between your thighs and making you moan loudly.

Your eyelids tried to flutter shut but you held them open, desperate to watch the enhanced image of your beautiful boyfriend’s face that was glistening from your juices. Hyunjin caught on fast and tried to rile you up more, teasingly staring straight into the camera lens and licking a long and rough line along your clit. You even got a short glimpse of his tongue literally dripping from your cum as he pulled away to reposition his tongue inside of you.

Felix takes the chance to remove his free hand from your chest and reach forward, rubbing his fingers messily around your clit. It was all too much. Felix’s phone pointing at you as he humps the air by your head and occasionally pinches your clit mixed with Hyunjin’s long fingers bullying against your g-spot all while his tongue curves at the very entrance of your cunt and while he stares up at you intensely has you overwhelmed in all the right ways.

Your head is thrown back as you moan pathetically at the feeling of you gushing. Your legs desperately try to close around Hyunjin’s head, but Felix removes the hand on your clit and drops the phone on the bed to wrap his hands around the underside of your knees, holding them to your chest and giving Hyunjin the freedom to continue bullying your cunt.

With your head thrown back against Felix’s thigh, you don’t get to watch as Hyunjin backs away slightly, moving the hand that was resting on your thigh to rub roughly against your clit in order to pull more from you as his shirt gets completely soaked. While he does this, his long fingers continue to curve upwards and dig into your G-spot.

"F-Fuck! Wait!!" You moan out a cry and shoot your arms down to push his hands away, only for his now-soaked hand to come up and take hold of both of your wrists. They hold you tightly like this, keeping you in place as they push your body’s limits. What feels like hours of begging passes before you genuinely feel like you’re gonna pass out. The amount of wetness that falls from you has lessened more and more as they continue, but it hasn’t completely stopped so you knew they would have kept going.

“O-Okay, okay! No more, p-please- Yellow!" In an instant, Hyunjin’s hands stop their movements and Felix loosens his hold on your legs, finally allowing them to slam shut as the aftershocks take over your body. Felix’s hands move up to your head, where he strokes your cheeks and coos at you. He lays down beside you and kisses your forehead, whispering sweet nothings in your ears as you come down.

“Haha.. you okay, pretty?” Hyunjin’s hands rest on your calves, soothingly rubbing the area there as he waits patiently for an answer.

“You… You guys are fucking d-demons…” you gasp out with shaky breaths. “Even Chris didn’t try to push it for that long.” Felix giggles, pulling away from your ear to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. “We gotta prepare you, baby. I know Seungmin really liked seeing you squirt. ‘Said he was gonna learn from Channie how to do it fast so he can do it to you himself.”

Hyunjin leans forward and places soft kisses on your calves, “It’s better that we got to you before he did. You know how he is.” Instantly images of your past experiences with the boy in question flood your mind, and you clench at the thought of his mean-ass in Hyunjin’s place.

“Fuck.. Don’t tell me that... That’s so hot.” They both chuckle and continue to dote on you, even long after your body has calmed down and your breaths returned.

“You gonna let us fuck you now, baby?” Your eyes snap open at the deep whisper in your ear. You glance down and watch as Hyunjin silently studies your lower half, now shirtless and taking in every little detail as if he wanted to paint you. Hell. He probably is going to. Felix’s hands rub up and down your tummy as a silent reminder that he asked a question. “Mhm.”

“Gonna let me take care of you?” Hyunjin’s damp fingers draw shapes into your thigh with your release, trailing some of it to your hole where he dips a finger in experimentally. You whine in agreement and allow Hyunjin to flip you over, landing you on your knees as he pulls you up against his chest. You smile and lean back, relishing in the warmth he gives off. His hand reaches up and tilts your head sideways, allowing him to lock lips with you. He smiles into the kiss and his hands roam all over your body, occasionally stopping at your hips to give your ass a good squeeze.

He pulls away slightly and speaks while his lips ghost yours, “Ready, Princess?” You whine out an “mhm” and he slides his dick through your folds, pushing in after the 3rd swipe. Moans fill the room from both of you at the feeling of him pushing in and stretching your walls farther than their fingers. He pushes his lips against yours again, pushing a few more inches in before stopping to let you adjust. It doesn’t take long, thanks to their onslaught earlier, and he easily finds a comfortable pace to start with.

Though, that one is quickly thrown out the window when your walls start to wrap around his dick tightly. Out of nowhere his right hand pushes against your back, shoving you forward so you’re on your hands and knees as he speeds up. Your arms wobble as he continues to fuck you, and you end up completely missing the dip in the bed in front of you. It’s not until Hyunjin’s big hand wraps into your hair and angles your head backward that you notice the pretty boy sitting in front of you.

It’s an uncomfortable angle, but Felix quickly distracts you by pushing his lips against yours. His right hand lovingly settles on your cheek as Hyunjin fucks into you, getting rougher with each passing second. Eventually, Felix pulls away, settling against the headboard again as he strokes himself sluggishly to the sight of you getting fucked.

Once he’s sat, Hyunjin takes the chance to go even deeper, now pushing your face into the sheets as he pounds into you roughly. Your hands clench the sheets and try to push your torso back up only for him to grab your arms and hold you down. His hands position on your upper arms and he uses some of his body weight to hold you down, keeping you still for him as he continues to fuck you open.

He goes deeper at this angle, faintly pushing against your cervix while simultaneously ramming into your G-spot. And when he’s fucking you this good, barely giving you time to think, your orgasm sneaks up on you all too easily. Tears fall from your eyes against the sheets and your legs shake as he drags another orgasm through your body. Your moans become choked as he continues to hold you down. He feels you cum around him and, thankfully for you, the clenching around him was all he needed to finish.

Your tight walls milk him dry as he rides his own orgasm, using you like a fleshlight while he does so. He moans loudly and thrusts sharply a few more times before slowly pulling out. Your body reacts with an aggressive shiver and he giggles, placing a kiss on your ass as his fingers try to soothe your arm in case he was too rough.

You’re thankful for it and it feels great, though it leaves your mind soon after due to how watery your brain has become. All the orgasms have started to catch up to you and your whole body feels like mush. You’re nothing more than a blob melted into the sheets as your boyfriends’ hands run all over your body. The only slightly grounding thing that pulls your mind back to earth is the deep voice that rings in your ears.

“How are you, baby? Talk to me.” You look up to see Felix hovering over you, face scrunched in concern. You chuckle at the sight of your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into you and placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “‘M good, I promise. My body jus’ feels like putty right now.” You giggle again and he finally relaxes, leaning forward to place kisses along the tear streaks on your cheeks.

Despite the sweet moment you share with your boyfriend, your worn-out body craves for more. One of your hands unwraps from his neck and rakes down his back, digging your nails into the skin there playfully. Then, the hand still around his neck wraps into his hair and tugs it lightly. He moans into the kiss and unintentionally bucks his hips against yours, growling as he pulls away. “Baby…”

You hold back a laugh and peck his lips, pushing him over and flipping your positions so that you’re straddling his hips. His still-hard cock is sitting directly under your crotch and you teasingly grind against it. He sighs happily and his eyes flutter shut for a moment and his hands reach out to grab your hips tightly.

“Can I ride you, Lixie?” His eyes snap open and he nods desperately. He dives a hand between you and grabs his base, angling himself upwards as you lift your hips. His other hand rests on your hip tightly and, once his tip pokes at your entrance, he pulls you back down into him. The slide makes you whine, still overly sensitive. But you’ll be damned if you’re not getting both men tonight.

Both of his hands rest on your hips, drawing circles into your skin there as you take deep breaths. You sit there for a while it seems because before you have time to adjust fully, a harsh slap is sent to your ass. You were caught off guard, not expecting such a powerful hit from the boy below you who tended to be softer with you. But then, you’re reminded that your other boyfriend was still in the room. The older man lands another smack, unhappy with your still unmoving form.

“What happened to wanting to ride him, Princess?” He wraps a hand around your torso, angling it up to wrap around your neck as his other rests just above Felix’s on your hip. He uses the grip there to start moving you, bouncing you up and down, albeit slowly at first. But you both know Felix doesn’t mind. Especially not when he has such a big smirk painted on his face.

Hyunjin continues fucking you up and down on top of Felix, occasionally squeezing your neck until you start to move on your own. Then he lets you go completely, causing you to fall forward and just barely catch yourself with your hands on either side of Felix’s head. You lose your rhythm for a moment, only for Felix to thrust up into you roughly as if to remind you what you should be doing.

His hands move down to your ass as you begin to ride him again, this time desperately chasing his orgasm as yours builds up fast again. You purposefully clench around him from time to time, thriving off the way he moans loudly and twitches at the feeling. Before you realize it, Hyunjin is kneeling beside you, pumping himself and looking at you with the sexiest smile ever.

However, you only get to admire it for a moment before his hand creates a makeshift ponytail in your hair and pulls you towards him. The new angle forces you to stretch a little and causes your hips to stop moving. They’ve pushed your body through so much in the last couple of hours, so you can’t help but lose focus all too easily. You can’t multitask and take care of them as much as you wish you could. So, you instead focus on sucking Hyunjin off and only grind your hips slowly against the man below you.

Felix whines, sighing loudly before lifting your hips a few inches. You’re not given any time to react before he plants his feet in the bed and starts to fuck up into you roughly. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your jaw manages to drop further. Hyunjin laughs, the push and pull between the two men becoming more entertaining for him than anything else. He decides it’s his turn now and tightens the grip on your hair, thrusting his hips slightly each time he shoves you down, making you deepthroat him and choke around his dick.

You sit still, pliant even, as you let both men use you as they wish. You’re so close and you trail a hand between your legs, amidst all the bullying your cunt is receiving, and rub your clit back and forth. You moan loudly around Hyunjin as you cum, your orgasm crashing down on you just as intensely as the other ones. Felix’s hips falter due to your persistent clenching catching him off guard. His hips slow to a complete stop as he revels in the feeling of your walls fluttering around his dick.

And, thankfully for you, Hyunjin finishes soon after you do., the vibrations from your moans sending him over the edge. He watches with furrowed eyebrows and parted lips as you swallow around him and his teeth catch his lip as he pulls you off, whimpering slightly at the way you suck harshly to get every last drop. His legs twitch when you especially suck his tip hard, and he huffs out a laugh.

“Can’t go one day without being a troublemaker, huh?” He laughs and places a kiss on your forehead before backing away, allowing the younger to chase his own orgasm. He disappears after that and, had you been paying close enough attention, you would have noticed the sound of the bathroom door opening.

But you can’t be bothered by that. Not when Felix is pulling out and flipping the two of you again. He shoves you onto your back, pushing your legs up and to the side. One arm rests on his forearm by your head as the other positions his dick again. Your eyes lock with his as he pushes in again, moans falling from both of your lips as he sets a fast pace right away.

The eye contact is held as he pummels into you. His eyes break away from yours for a moment as he leans forward and pushes his chest against yours. Messy kisses are placed along your jaw as his thrusts become sloppy.

You thought the previous orgasm was your last, but when Felix drags so nicely against your walls and shoves his tip so meanly into your already bruised G-Spot, another one sneaks up on you. Your eyes snap closed and your legs try to close around his torso as you squirt again, this time soaking your other boyfriend’s stomach.

The sheer pressure coming from your cunt forces him out of you and he only laughs, pulling away from you as he watches you gush. He holds one of your legs open as he jerks himself off, using the new wetness as a lubricant. He finishes on your stomach soon after, voice jumping back and forth between deep groans and high-pitched moans as he milks himself dry at the sight of you.

You both sit there, chests heaving and heavy breaths filling the room. His eyes rake up and down your body as he catches his breath, his hands mindlessly rubbing up and down your sides as he tries to help you calm down. Your eyes meet and he smiles widely, eyes crinkling at the corners as he giggles at you.

“You did so well, baby. I can’t believe you did it a second time…” He giggles and crawls over you, hovering over you as he pushes his lips onto yours. “Lixie…” You whine against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck. He pulls away and pushes his lips against your jaw once more, “No more, Honey. Time to clean up, okay?”

Hyunjin’s voice suddenly comes from the bathroom, in a very dramatic ‘over the intercom’ voice. “Baby 1 and Baby 2, if you could please make your way to the shower so I can give you some lovin?” You and Felix laugh at the same time and you continue to lay in your spot, even after Felix has stood on his feet. He drags you by your ankle to the edge of the bed and, despite your groans and whines, pulls you to stand with him.

The two of you wobble over to the bathroom where Hyunjin is standing in the shower. He smiles and curls his finger, gesturing to both of you to join him under the steaming water. Felix taps your ass playfully, sending you stumbling forward. Both men laugh as you stick your tongue out at the younger and speed-walk your way to Hyunjin.

The three of you squeezed into the shower and, thanks to the newer dorms, the shower is big enough to comfortably accommodate you all. They take turns washing you off and you help them wash each other off while some soft kisses and tender caresses are exchanged in the cooling water.

Your body is still shaky by the time you’re fully dressed and tangled in the new sheets with both your lovers. You’re sandwiched between them, covered by the fluffy comforter, and basking in the warmth of their bodies that are tangled with yours. Hyunjin is the first to fall asleep, cheek squished against your chest as you lay on your side facing him. Felix is behind you, one arm holding his head up and the other rubbing your shoulder softly, easing you into a slumber. Right before you give in to your exhaustion you’re reminded of your earlier conversation with Chris.

“Ah- Lixie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Channie said he wanted to talk with you about something.” You smile and wiggle your eyebrows before sleep finally takes over you, leaving a very confused Felix who just shakes his head at you mid-laugh.

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@baby-stay92

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amoristt · 18 days ago

Text

closer

「 ✦ thanos / reader / nam-gyu ✦ 」 tags: smut MDNI // afab! reader, DP, mild drxg use, like super mild, no plot lol, light coercion but reader is into it

a/n: when is it my turn im barkingggg i want them so bad theyre gonna have to burn me off w a lighter the way im biting word count: 9.5

・❥・Never in your life had you felt so grateful for something as simple as lukewarm water. Fuck, any water at all that wasn’t ice cold felt like a luxury- your palms collecting the clear liquid before tossing it up to your face. The splashes only offer so much, it’s awkward to bend over the sink to wash yourself, but it’s better than nothing given there don’t seem to be any readily available showers.

Paper towels make shitty loofahs. The hand soap isn’t exactly your favorite fragrance ever. Your tracksuit and t-shirt are slung over a stalls door, and you’re craning your entire spine forward just to wash your upper half. The last game had been so strenuous- you were sure you absolutely reeked.

Man, you miss your shower. If you make it home, you’re going to spend most of the rest of your life under as hot of water as you could get, you think. The ultimate pick-me-up.

Speaking of pick-me-up’s, you wonder if Thanos's would be a kind enough soul to let you bum off some more of this muscle relaxants. You had no idea what the things were, but holy shit, did it knock you off your ass the last time. It was like being made entirely of lead. Every time you shifted positions, you fell into an even comfier spot, the thin mattresses offered to you suddenly about as comfortable as a kings.

You could use some good sleep right about now. Sore, exhausted, and more high-strung than you cared to admit. Thanos and Nam-gyu were always entertaining enough to take some of the edge off. Even when your lives were on the line, they made it hard to take anything too serious at all at all. Or maybe that was the drugs- either way, you were appreciative of their company. Who better to hang around with than friends, right? Long before the games, before you all became a trio of sorts, you’d met them both a handful of times, only when your friend groups would clash because a few people knew a few people who knew a few people.

Thanos was always the center of attention, but he was never outright unkind to you. Notably, he was always particularly focused on you when you were in a giggly mood. You would laugh at all his jokes, even the shitty ones, with a drink in hand. He ate it up- worked overtime to keep you around- you made him feel like he was the funniest man alive.

Nam-gyu worked at the club you both frequented at and he came to be as equally as interested in your friend. He hung around your table, they chatted endlessly on about some online currency thing most times, and you’d zone out all too easily. Other times, your favorite times, Nam-gyu would sneak you all into a private lounge and share some of his spoils he’d come across. They took drugs like water, you always chose the bottle, instead.

Friday’s would blur into sunday evenings before you could even really get a grapple on what was going on. You’d wake up in hotel rooms with them both strewn about, sleeping in all sorts of positions. It was fun. It was really fun, in a wreckless, manic type of way. You never understood why they kept you around, but you didn’t question it, either. Why question when you could just enjoy. Why question when you could just enjoy?

When you’d found them among the crowd on day one, it was like the planets had realigned. Actually, you hadn’t even been the first to notice. You just heard your name shouted over the crowd and suddenly someone was slamming into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs. A blur of purple hair and green tracksuits.

You aren’t sure you’d have made it as far as you had if not for your buddies. You try not to think about it too much- you’d hate to ruin your own vibe as lives come to end all around you. It was the first time you’d ever taken something from Thanos- a muscle relaxant that really took the anxieties away.

Dipping your head into the sink and rinsing your face once more, you don’t bother looking up when you hear the door push open and then click shut. You’re too focused on how the water is warm enough, and you don’t stink to the high heavens any longer.

A man’s voice cuts through the silence, echoes off the tile walls.

“Woah.”

You rip your head from the sink so fast it almost nails the faucet on your way up, alarm flashing through you, arms coming to cover your chest only clad in your bra. When you manage to process the not only one, but two men standing before you, you feel anger bubbling in your chest.

Low and behold, speak of the devils.

“What the fuck!” You hiss, tightening your arms around your chest.

Thanos’s hands are tucked into his pockets casually, and he looks around the bathroom with his brows raised, like he wasn’t sure what to expect out of the women's bathroom. Nam-gyu tails him but passes by after offering you a snarky grin. In your relief that you knew the two souls invading your space, you almost forgot the fact that you were naked from the waist up.

“You seriously scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” Thanos hummed, putting his hands up to his chest mockingly. He moves like he’s light on air, but his eyes never leave you.

You turn on your heel and grab your shirt from its spot over the stall door, throwing it on quickly. In the mirror, you don’t miss the way Thanos’s eyes drink you in, but you do miss the way Nam-gyu is almost seeming to scout the girls room, checking under the doors and pushing stalls open.

“What are you guys doing in here? Aren’t you worried about getting in trouble.”

Thanos scoffs. “Trouble. It was crazy boring out there.”

Nam-gyu sighs dramatically, snaking up beside the taller male. “And you’ve been in here forever. We thought maybe something happened to our buddy.”

You actually laugh at that. He’s said that before- and this isn’t the first time your friends have barged into the women's bathroom in search of you. Usually at clubs, they’d be pushed and shoved out by other women, but right now there’s no one to chastise them for being irritants.

“My heroes. I’m definitely doing fine. Buuut…” You trail off in a hum, eyeing your purple haired friend. He raises a brow again. “You got more of what you had me take? Not the crazy shit, obviously, whatever the white one was from the other night.”

“Why? You stressed?” He rocks back and forth on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets. You can’t help but stare at him, incredulous.

“Yeah, I’m stressed. All this game shit is starting to get under my skin.”

“Yo, you’re not voting no are you?” Gam-gyu is already touching you. So clingy, all the time, thin fingers petting and pressing on your shoulders any chance he could get. At any point it seemed like he was tugging on you from somewhere.

“No, I’m just saying I could use some relief.”

He slips behind you, hands on your shoulders. Your friends are trading looks that you can’t quite place, this unspoken vibe that you’re clearly not tuned into. Something thicker settles between all three of you, as does your confusion. They were up to something- you knew it. You knew them like the back of your hand.

Thanos is jostling the necklace around to sort through all the colors. Eventually he settles on one and he hands it over. The entire time he’s searching for it, Nam-gyu is still standing along your back, the heat of him palpable. Consistent. He’s always exuded heat like a furnace.

Thanos pulls his necklace from his shirt and pops the cross shaped case open. Plucking out a small white pill, he eyes it before flashing it in your vision. You brighten up at the sight, but he’s quick to take a step back when you reach out.

“What is it?”

“Hm… I’m just thinking. You know, I give you a couple of these, but what do I get in return?”

That stops you, your eyes narrowing just enough to notice, subtle suspicion settling over your features.

“Uh… What do you want, I guess…?”

Thanos eyes glance around the room as he thinks, before they settle on you. They’re different. A bit darker, a flame of mischievousness to those irises. Not a look you’ve never seen before, but certainly not a look you expected to be directed at you of all people.

“How about… a kiss.”

There you go, laughing again. Now that was certainly a first. When you have your little giggle and straighten back up, you see that Thanos doesn’t find his request even slightly as funny as you do. He’s staring at you with his expression of expectancy, so much so that it makes you raise a brow.

“For real?”

He jingles his necklace, the pills rattling around audibly. There’s no way he’s serious. But he looks serious. He was a flirt to his very core, you knew that a fact to be true, but ever since you’d left the ‘cutie in his friend group’ category and slipped into the boundaries of being his genuine friend, he hadn’t made any advances.

Maybe this was some sort of test, because he’s still not budging. If he is serious, well… You can’t exactly say you’d mind a little peck. He was handsome- they both were. With cool, untouchable attitudes to match. Fun, fun, fun, and the rare times they had to look out for you, they were as reliable as concrete.

If you hadn’t developed such a bond with them- not quite something like siblings, but not of lesser importance either, you’d have been all over the idea. Now you have to put thought into it, tread more carefully than you’d like.

You decide, though, fuck it. If he’s to be the fisher, then suppose you’ll be the fish that bites.

“Sure. Why not.”

They both trade looks again. Quick, only in a flash, but you catch it. Nam-gyu’s thumbs rub circles into your skin through the thin fabric of your t-shirt and for some reason it makes your breath catch in your chest. There’s a strange energy about them. Something charged, determined. Every move is calculated with some end goal in their minds.

“Here.”

A strange pang of disappointment rings through you, though, when Thanos plants the little pill in your palm- you had kinda hoped he’d kiss you, after all. But oh well. You knew he was just clowning around- he always was. You always had turned his meaningless flirts down, maybe he was trying to see what you’d do in the name of drugs, or something like that. You feel prickly heat on your cheeks- embarrassment.

You wish you had turned him down now, too, kind of feeling like an idiot.

The pill is just as bitter on your tongue now as it had been the first time, a grimace playing over your lips as the texture bursts into a gritty chalk-like powder dancing over your tastebuds. You had about five minutes before it’d start kicking in.

“Jesus, that taste is so fucking na-”

You’re cut off by Thanos pressing his lips firmly against your own. It’s sudden, it’s intrusive. His hand is firmly cupping your jaw and the other is resting on the pulse of your neck. It pushes you back against Nam-gyu roughly, and his hands come to grasp at your forearms from behind you, continuing to rub circles into your skin. Your own hands come up instinctively, planting on Thanos’s shoulders.

There’s heat flooding your cheeks, heat flooding down to your chest and out to your ears. Worsened, a flame so fiery hot it scorches, when Thanos tilts his head to deepen the kiss even further, his hands keeping you flush against him. Nam-gyu’s sliding his hands from your arms down to the curve of your waist, feeling the shape of you through your t-shirt. You shiver, electricity rippling up and down your spine in body shivering shudders.

When Thanos splits from you, your mind reeling, there’s fingers replacing his grip on your jaw almost immediately, making you face over your shoulder. Another set of lips overtake yours, tongue lapping into your parted lips, pushy and demanding. Thanos’s kiss wasn't especially apprehensive, but it wasn’t like this. Nam-gyu kisses you like he owns you, fervent and sloppy and noisy.

There’s a string of spit bridging you when he pulls away, watches you gape at him, breathless and flushed. You’re stammering, unsure of what to say next.

“What- what the fuck-”

“You are so beautiful.” Thanos interrupts again you by running a hand through your hair, nails gently scratching along your scalp. It’s not the first time he’s ever said it, but there’s something different now. Passionate. Like he really means it this time, and not some off-handed flirt that was easy to swat away.

You’re blushing a raging red, your heart pounding in your chest- you don’t know what to do with your hands anymore. He takes them for you in his own, long fingers stroking over your knuckles before he dragged your right hand up to his lips and places kisses along your knuckles. Over the top, up your wrist. Up to your forearm and then only stopping when your t-shirt blocked away your smooth skin. Nam-gyu brushes hair from your neck and buries his face into the cradle of you, breathes you in, his hands still squeezing gently on your hips.

“What’s going on…?” You chirp, eyes falling half lidded.

“You tell us.” Nam-gyu murmurs against you, hot breath ghosting over your skin, and you shiver in, you realize, pure delight. You feel a weight start to settle in your cheeks, your head starting to feel just a little bit heavier than before to hold up on your neck.

The drugs are kicking in just in time, your shoulders slumping, a content sigh leaving your lips. Opening yourself up to them, head lolling to the side to give Nam-gyu more of your collar. He takes, greedy, excited, and presses a smile into your jugular.

This was calculated. This was planned. And fuck, it’s working.

“I don’t know.” You say. But you do know. And you know you’re clearly enjoying it- already wet between your legs and feeling the roll of anticipation settle in your belly.

The anxieties start to ebb away, and Thanos is watching your every micro expression with blown pupils. You watch him from under your thick lashes, lips swollen, your breath leaving you in shallow pants. It beckons him, draws him in for another kiss.

Thanos is the one who finally decides to stop beating around the bush. He breaks your second kiss to touch your face, one hand caressing down your cheeks, the other brushing stray strands of hair away from your eyes. He’s beautiful- he’s always been beautiful.

“You want more?”

You swallow. “Drugs? Or…”

He traces his thumb over your lower lip. “...Or.”

Yes, you do. Fuck yes. But for some reason you can’t say it outloud- this weird, nagging feeling that surely comes from some insecurities buried among the skeletons in your closet, that this is all some cruel prank. That if you say yes, really give in to them, they’ll leave you high and dry, laughing all the way back to their beds outside. You’d never live it down. It would change everything.

“...Are you being serious…?” You have to ask, even if you’re so wet it’s uncomfortable, clenching on nothing when strikes of need course through you.

There is no laughter. Just excited, aroused breathing all around in the silence. Nam-gyu squeezes you once more, fingers pressing into your skin through your clothes that are suddenly much, much too warm to be under.

“Seriously.” Thanos murmurs, and then he finds your lips again. Kisses exhilaration into you like a drug of its very own. You let him in, lean forward and hum a sweet little sound into his mouth. He pulls back again, and there’s those expectant eyes again. He’s being genuine, they both are, their hands and their eyes and their mouths unable to leave you for even a moment.

“Let’s have some fun, yeah?” Nam-gyu breathes, and you shiver. His fingers dip below the thin fabric of your t-shirt, barely brushing his calloused fingers over your skin, and it’s enough to light you up with goosebumps and desire. You can feel your heartbeat throughout your entire body now, from your head all the way down to your aching cunt.

Yeah. Let’s have some fun.

The moment you nod, it’s the green light they’d been waiting for- hoping for.

Your shirt is gone in a matter of seconds, Thanos making quick work to pull it over your head and toss it over the wall of the nearest stall. Before you even get the chance to cover yourself, exposed in the bathroom before them all over again, you’re being walked backwards, pushed gently by the front when Thanos kisses you fervently- like he can’t get enough of you. Like everytime he breaks away he’s just waiting for his chance to find your lips again. You’re sore with him, kiss-drunk and willing. The world disappears behind the stall, and all else disappears except for them.

Nam-gyu backs up to the wall, keeps you in front of him, sandwiched between their bodies. His hand slips under your bra and he kneads your breast with one hand, the other wrapping around your waist, keeping you pinned against his warm, warm body. When his thumb flicks over your nipple, you jump with a sharp gasp. Thanos groans an equally as delighted sound against you, doesn’t let up, doesn’t give you the chance to have second thoughts.

Gentle pinches and tugs make you whimper, forced to break Thanos’s kiss when you’re overwhelmed with the need for air. You suck in greedy breaths, a sound that raises into a high keen when there’s suddenly pressure flattened right where you needed it between your legs. Thanos’s palm is grinding against your sex through your sweats, your hands clutching against his jacket in need of purchase.

“I knew you’d sound cute.” Nam-gyu harps, grinning into your hair.

You wonder when they’d planned this. Initially you had figured it was a fuck it, why not scenario- after all, tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. But the little comments like that, like this was something they’d thought about before, tells you otherwise. It makes you even hotter. Fuck, if you had known, you would have been on it. Especially if it felt like this.

Your head tips back, resting against Nam-gyu’s shoulder, and he makes quick work of nipping at your throat. Thanos is all kisses, but you’re finding the other male is mostly teeth, biting and grazing along the sensitive flesh of your neck. Thanos adds just a bit of pressure, just enough to make you moan again, the sound like music to their waiting ears. You’re quickly dissolving into a squirming mess of sultry cries and ember-hot skin.

Your bra is next up on the chopping block. It’s actually shocking it’s taken this long, Nam-gyu growing impatient with the idea of touching, but not seeing. When it’s pulled away, the cold air meets you, makes you shiver, exposed. Now it’s getting real- you’re entirely bare from the waist up, panting in front of them like a present begging to be unwrapped.

“So fucking hot,” Thanos coos, feeling you, bouncing between catching your sensitive nipples in his fingers and easing his palm against your sex. You need more- you’re so wet you’re sure he can feel it through your clothes, now, hips rocking, begging for more. He drops to his knees in front of you.

“Woah-” You clam up, tensing, and Nam-gyu lifts his head so he could see what your sudden fuss was about. Thanos freezes, his fingers caught and hooking over your sweats. You swallow hard and squirm. “I mean- You don’t have to do that.”

“You don’t… Want me to?” He’s actually taken aback that you’re stopping him, clearly worried about cold feet coming into the picture. You stammer again.

“Well-, Not like, I don’t want you to, but that’s… I don’t know.”

He leans back on his heels, tilting his head. “So you do want me to.”

You’re under the spotlight, frozen, floundering. They’re exchanging glances from over your shoulder. Fuck- you don’t want this to stop but you’re nervous at the thought of him eating you out. You force out, “I-I just- I’m embarrassed.”

Thanos gapes at you. “Embarrassed?”

You can’t bear to look at him in the eyes anymore, nerves getting the better of you.

Fuck, you want more drugs. Anything to get away from this random bout of insecurities that seemed to jump you out of the blue. Or maybe it was the sobering reality that was your good, good friend about to be face to face with your cunt.

Nam-gyu drags his hands along your sides, makes you shiver, before they settle on your breasts again. He grasps you, rolls your sensitive buds between his fingers. He’s trying to break you out of your funk, you know it, and it’s starting to work. Reminding you how good this feels, how they’ve been all over you like drooling hounds to scent from the moment you’d invited them into yourself.

“Don’t be shy, c’mon.” He whispers in your ear. You’re inclined to listen, even if it takes a few extra beats of silence.

“Okay.”

Thanos’s eyes light up. He leans forward. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He’s quick to drag your pants down, takes great care to bring your underwear with them, into a pool around your ankles before tugging them away all together. When you lift your left leg to step out, he catches you by the thigh and hikes it over his shoulder, your other leg supporting your weight. You’re spread open and he’s eyeing your sex like a wolf eyes a cornered rabbit. Hungry, primal. He doesn't let you develop those worries this time, wastes no time before butting his tongue up against your slit and licking a broad, deep stripe.

A high, blissful sound escapes your lips. Something like a mewl, but from somewhere deep in your chest. It’s lewd, it’s downright pornographic, and it’s making Nam-gyu groan into your neck while Thanos’s eyes slip shut. Every lick makes you jump, every prod of his tongue against your lonely clit a cause for squirming. If Nam-gyu’s arm wasn’t wrapped around your waist, crushing you against him, you would have crumbled into a heaping mess.

“God, you’re such a fucking babe.” He murmurs in your ear, a taunt to his tone. “You’ve wanted this bad, huh?”

You did want it. You wanted it so bad that you’re already dripping with your own slick, Thanos devours you like the finest of fruit. He’s ravenous, hungry, sucking on your clit and spreading you open with his fingers until all you can do is wheeze out sharp cries. You can’t do anything to slow him down, urge him deeper, stuck in place and expected to do nothing else but let them have you.

“Look at that,” Nam-gyu’s voice again in your ear, you can hear his grin. “You're soaking his face already.”

It’s too much. You can’t lock eyes with him- you can barely even stand the sight of him buried between your legs on its own, let alone locking eyes when he's making all these obscene, salacious sounds, drunk on your slick. But then the male behind you grabs your chin and he makes you look and he whispers dirty, downright bawdy things in your ear that make you shake in his unrelenting grip.

When Thanos’s eyes flick up to find yours, you whine and bury your hand in his hair. He moans against you, letting his eyes fall shut again, reveling in the way you tugged and clawed. You’re covered by them, covered by hands and kisses, losing any and all sense of prudence. These wanton, needy sounds are slipping past your lips and you can’t seem to stop them. It’s all so good, pleasure from every angle.

Your orgasm is quiet, but it rocks you to your very core. This rippling, climbing tantamount of pleasure that bursts into fiery roars of euphoria fluttering under your skin. Head tossed back against Nam-gyu’s shoulder, scrabbling for purchase on his arm around your waist, you cum and cum and cum until it feels like you’re never going to find your way back down.

If you’d been soaked before, you were downright drenched now, and Thanos couldn’t have been happier. He’s greedy, clutches your twitching hips so you can’t jump away from his mouth when he drinks you in until you’re writhing to get away from it. When he finally pulls away, he laps another wet kiss onto your clit for good measure, and then another for the road. And then one more, one more just for good luck.

“Holy shit,” Nam-gyu chuckles against your hair. “Fuck, that was so hot.”

Thanos kisses up from your thighs to your abdomen, up to your breasts, where he finds his mouth busy once more latching onto a nipple and earning another bout of whimpers. You lurch back, wiggly and restless, but you can’t go anywhere else. You’re trapped, cornered. It’s perfect.

You’re suddenly hoisted into the air, hands gripping into your thighs and ass. Your back presses weight against Nam-gyu’s front, and instinctively, you wrap your legs around Thanos’s waist for support. They’ve got you sandwiched in between their bodies even more now, your weight entirely supported by their grasps, the soft fabric of their tracksuits brushing against you with every shift. Occasionally, there’s a sharp chill of cold along your back, the zipper brushing against your heated skin.

There’s a quiet, rustling of fabric that reaches your ears over the incessant pounding of your heart rate, and when you look, you feel your stomach roll. Thanos is shimmying his pants down to his mid thighs, and you watch with eager eyes as his cock springs free from its confines. His tip is red and angry with need, precum glistening under the overhead light. It makes you clench of nothing, suddenly realizing how empty you feel, how he could fill you up so perfectly.

When he settles between your legs again, he tests the waters, drags his tip along your slit, knocking it against your clit. You jerk your hips against him, trying to urge him in without outright telling him. He’s a good listener- doesn't make you wait and agonize, doesn't even make you beg for it. Just lines his shaft up with your entrance and lets out a shaky, eager breath. He doesn’t wait for an okay. He doesn’t need one. Not when you’re driving your heel into his lower back and biting at your lip in anticipation.

You’re so drenched that he’s inside of you all the way to the hilt in one move. You go from uncomfortably empty to suddenly bracing the impalement, your walls fluttering and sucking him in, drawing these deep guttural groans from both of your throats. His hands are squeezing your ass, nails barely catching the skin. He certainly feels thicker than he looks, snug inside of your gummy walls.

“Damn,” English meets your ears, low and sultry as you wrap your arms around his neck. “So fucking wet.”

“Take her.” Nam-gyu says, and before you know it, your weight has shifted onto Thanos almost entirely. The arm wrapped tightly around your abdomen slithers away, and then you feel it. The unmistakable, undeniable feeling of Nam-gyu’s erection pressing flush to your occupied slit. He’s so hard it must hurt, breathing heavy against your neck, a fever growing within him. And he’s bigger- you can tell, thicker. Thanos’s cock twitched inside of you, reminds you that you already feel full. You still, the sudden dawning realization that they’re both going to take you temporarily yanking you from your haze of euphoria.

“You gonna be able to take it?” Thanos can sense the change in you. He always does, his eyes seem to never leave you.

You can’t bring yourself to answer, because quite honestly, you don’t know. You don’t know if you could house both of their swollen cocks within the confines of your cunt. You’re trying to even your breathing, to relax around him, but it’s hard when Nam-gyu knocks his length along your sex once again. He’s trying to wait- but patience has never been one of his virtues. But he does it for you, does it because he wants this more than anything in his entire life. And he wants it done right.

Thanos rocks himself into you, sets you alight once more, lighting little sparks behind your eyelids. Reminding you, again, that they’re going to take care of you. Chirping, mewling little sounds pass your lips every time he does, spurs them both on, especially Nam-gyu, who butts his cock up against your slit one more time before he presses inside with a hiss.

It’s an impossibly tight fit. Your chest heaves, your body tenses, your heart is beating so rapidly you’re afraid it may burst any time now. There’s hands all over you, soothing you, toying with you, rubbing circles into your clit and catching your nipples between the pads of their fingers. The first inch of Nam-gyu manages a path inside your pussy. You tense with every fiber of your being, this searing, rippling burn forcing you to toss your head back with a dying yelp on your lips. It hurts- it hurts more than you thought it would, and you knew with certainty you’d be struggling. He won’t fit- he can’t fit, there’s no way the size of you could accommodate them both. But he continues anyway, forces another inch inside of you.

The stretch is unbelievable. You can’t cope

There’s hands petting down your hair, lips on your cheek, trying to kiss and lick and sooth you.

“Quiet, it’s okay.” Your ears are swimming, you can barely hear Thanos’s voice over the crashing waves beating along your eardrums. You whimper a pitiful noise- one that makes him shift your weight onto Nam-gyu’s iron grip. Your eyes are screwed shut so tight you’re unsure if they'll ever open again. Something pokes against your lips- fingers, you realize, slipping inside your warm mouth and dragging along your tongue. You’re so lost, swirling, you just let them explore you.

“You’re so pretty, baby, let me help you.” He hums, and that reaches you just fine. Another wave of red hot blush creeps over your cheeks as if having both of their cocks jointed in the cavern of your cunt wasn’t enough before. Chest swelling, leaning into his fingers collecting your drool and prying your mouth open for him, like an obedient dog.

A bitter, sharp taste explodes over your tongue.

Try as you might to rip your head back, retching, Nam-gyu’s holding you up so Thanos’s other hand has got you by the back of your head and he’s shoving that terrible taste to the very back of your throat until you're gagging it down. His voice is so sweet in your ears, sickly so, faux honey tipped words that reach you in cooing there you go’s.

“How much-” You gag with the taste of the pill still drifting down into your stomach. “How much was that?”

“Don’t worry about it. I got you.” And his broad hands are back onto your body, supporting and dragging you against him, burying his face in your neck, lapping the smooth skin there.

You trust him. You trust both of them, even when they give you every reason not to. And so, let them handle it all for you. To take care of you. In return they ravage you, take and pull anything they can get their hands on, stuck somewhere between treating you like the finest of china

whilst simultaneously brutalizing you at every turn. This precious, pliable, breakable, but oh so usable thing at their very fingertips.

At the very least, Nam-gyu hasn’t continued trying to bulldoze his swollen cock into you, not yet. He’s giving you the chance to relax, to let him have you.

This round of drugs takes as quick of effect as the first, and you can feel it starting in your back before all else, this overtaking, tranquilizing sooth that works to pacify your tense muscles. It spreads to your face, your arms, your thighs and your legs, like a flood slowly rising until you’re soggy and heavy in their arms. Your head lolls forward on your shoulders, your brain grows foggier by the second. Their heartbeats are in tandem- or perhaps, it’s just your own, pulsating through every nerve in your being.

The drugs are helping, you think, or you really are starting to enjoy the way you’re being lanced in two. It’s hard to think at all anymore, all you can really do is feel and pant and try not to cry anymore than you already have. As the seconds tick by, you’re still lucid enough to know a glaring fact- they’re going to gut you with this. But you’re starting to lose the ability to care and you aren’t sure if that’s entirely a good thing or not.

In that moment, however, it was bliss. Painful and scorching, but all euphoric consuming bliss.

There isn’t enough space for them between your legs, but they carve it out anyways, shape and mold you around their cocks. Nam-gyu pushes in again, and you wrench around them, gasping out high noises in the back of your throat. He stills- there isn’t enough room like this. Even being so soaked that there’s this audible, obscene wentess to your cunt as he makes his way inside, there’s simply not enough room. Not with Thanos already buried so tightly inside of you, snug and occupying. Your fingers grip anywhere they can get- their arms, their shoulders, desperate for something to cling to in your woes.

“I don’t think she can-” Nam-gyu groans when you squeeze around them mid sentence, and even with just half of his length sheathed inside of you, it’s fucking tight. He can’t even move, letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “M’ not gonna fit.”

Your weight is tossed back to Nam-gyu, your head tipping back, and he kisses your cheek again, breathes hot pants against your trembling skin. Thanos shifts inside of you, just enough to draw out urgent moans from all three of your throats. He’s so snug inside of you that it’s almost seamless, you can’t tell where he begins, where you end. That felt fucking good, whatever he had done. Your walls flutter around them, clenching, sucking them both in despite your qualms. Thanos resettles his grip, the weight redistributed.

“Just-” His voice is strained, coming out in quick huffs. “Just do it.” Thanos ducks his head to find your eyeline, this pseudo, eager concern on his knit brows and pleading eyes. “You can take it, right?”

All you can do is nod, even though you’re still sure that this will kill you.

Nam-gyu jumps you just a bit, hoists you up just an inch or so higher so he could get a better grip on around your waist while his other arm snakes up your face so he could touch your face. Small tears are biting at your waterlines, you’re weightless and heavy all at once, on fire from the very core of your being, terrorizing you from the inside out. He kisses your cheek again before his palm finds your chin.

“Don’t scream, don’t scream.” He covers your mouth, stifles all your frantic little noises, in preparation for what came next.

In one single thrust, he bottoms out inside of you. You do scream- a high wail against his palm that still echoes off the stall walls even muffled. Fire spears you, you’re wrenching around them as if it’s going to help ease the flame. You go nowhere. You can do nothing except cry into his hand and accommodate them. There’s no other choice.

Buried to the very base of his cock, Nam-gyu’s groaning against the back of your head, a hiss dying on his lips every time you squirm and vice around them. Thanos mirrors him, grunting at the friction, the unbelievable feeling of being stuffed into something so warm and so soft. You’re so full- you’re too full, filled to the very brim, wall to wall, crevice to crevice. Stuffed so deeply you can feel them in your fucking throat.

“It’s okay, you’re alright.” Frantic english meets you but you can barely register it. Nam-gyu’s hand leaves your lips, and the moment cool air meets your lips, you’re choking out sobs somewhere between erotic pleasure in its rawest form and the genuine pain of feeling as though you were being ripped in two. You’re struggling, tensing in all the wrong places. They’re heavy inside of you, both of their intrusive beings splitting you in half. Taking you, ruining you. All the while your walls are putting in the work, clamping down, rolling waves of squeezes that have them struggling to focus. A vice so wet and plush that it truly does seem like you were built for this- built to take them, painfully for not.

Thanos is trying to keep you at bay, trying to pet down your face and ease those lines in your expression brought on agonizing, brutal pleasure.

“Fucking- so fucking tight,” Nam-gyu, however, isn’t trying. Not at all. “Holy shit, baby, can’t even breathe-“

Since the very beginning he’s been desperate to have you on his cock, waiting for the moment he could sink into your heat long before you’d let them kiss and lick and bite you, corner you, feel your soft skin underneath all those dreadful clothes. Long before he followed Thanos into the women's room, and long before the games were even a thought at all. And now that he’s finally got you, he’s out of his mind with it. He’s ramrod straight and terribly hard, damn near pulsating inside of you, crushing you against his chest. The hand that was once stifling you is now gripping marks into the flesh of your under thigh- but you’re slipping, just barely. Just enough for him to have to jump his hips to have you properly held in his grip. It rips a cry from you, the burn clawing and tearing from within all over again.

There’s not enough space. They’re killing you.

“Take it easy, this is a lot.” Thanos’s brows are knit, he adjusts himself and slips in just a little further. Such a small action but it sends riveting electricity up and down your spine. It’s enough to draw yet another whimper from your sore lips, and he coo’s at you, at least tries to act like he isn’t getting off on your pathetic noises.

Their lust dark, greedy beasts, drooling and starved with prey backed into a corner fit for the taking.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” Nam-gyu tries to sound like he’s apologetic but it falls flat in comparison. Mostly because you can feel him grinning, feel him tighten his grip. His breath is a quick ghost over the shell of your ear. “Taking it so well, though, fuck.”

“Oh god.” You’re crying again- not entirely out of pain. It’s overwhelming, they're all over you, their voices are swimming around the fishbowl of you skull and they sound so sweet but they’re devouring you whole and tearing you into bits. There’s another nudge inside of you that's making your stomach roll- you still can’t decide if this hurts too bad or it’s so fucking good that it’s almost blinding. The noise that leaves you certainly sounds pleased, however, and Nam-gyu groans in response, an instinctive carnal reply.

“That’s it, that’s it. Feels good, right?” You can hear his smile in his words, your face is red hot with all the attention, and the tears, and the mind numbing rapture of it all.

“We’ll take care of you baby, just-” Thanos hisses, struggling to get the words out. “Just say the word.”

You’ve got them teetering on the fine line of wanting and waiting, craving the slick and lushious feel of your walls writhing against their cocks, ready to take you and break you and fuck you. Thanos tries to be patient, or at least act like he’s patient, but you can see how he’s grappling with it. You’re stuck, held fast in the chains of their arms and strong hands, and he knows he could just take you like this and you couldn’t stop him. But he wants to wait, he wants to hear you sing, and he wants to hear you cry and cum for him, and forcing you wasn’t the road to that destination.

Something urged you to wrap your arms around his neck and drag him down for a kiss he’s all too eager for, clashing teeth and pressing into your mouth so intensely he’s pushing your head back against his friend's shoulder with the force of it. And while you’re distracted, scrambling to keep up with the ferocity of him, Nam-gyu decides to take a gamble. He rocks his hips just enough for you to feel that tight, tight pressure against your cervix where he lays. Pleasure lights up within you like a spark that soars from the very depths of your cunt all the way to the behinds of your eyes, and you constrict around them.

This longing, aching keen leaves you and plants itself against Thanos’s lips, he's quick to grasp your jaw in his fingers and swallow the sound like fine wine. You hadn’t expected it to feel this good already, this glorious thrum of heaven that makes you arch and press into the feeling for more. Your walls are clutching, dragging them in, your brain is choosing to ignore the burn in favor of the racing pleasure vibrating through your core.

Thanos breaks away from your kiss to lick up your neck, and you finally get the chance to whimper, please.

The beasts close in on their prey, snarling and snapping, catching its little body between their teeth.

Thanos, with his face buried in your neck and his hands shaking as they clutchy you, draws back just far enough to kiss your stretched slit with the tip of his swollen head before he’s driving himself back inside of you. Fuck, you could scream all over again at the spread, but instead all that escapes you is hoarse cries. Nam-gyu presses his forehead against the back of your hair and breathes you in, readies himself. You don’t even get the full length of a second to prepare before you’re ravaged.

He moves quick- hard, with the hiss of fuck on his lips. He’s been waiting and waiting and waiting and you’re so soaked around his cock that it’s dripping onto his legs, how could he ever stop himself from gripping you in his mighty claws and fucking you like an animal. He’s drawing himself to the tip and forcing his way back inside at a speed you can’t keep up with, and he’s making all these guttural lewd grunts into your ear that make you even wetter, somehow, even slicker. You’re sucking them in and constricting around their lengths like you’re trying to keep them buried within the confines of your body forever.

“Oh my god,” Thanos is chirping out mixtures of english and korean, all words lost on you, his eyes slipping shut as he takes his time properly fucking you. He’s slower than Nam-gyu for sure, but the way he rocks his hips against you is making you squirm, toes curling, fingers grabbing hard into his tracksuit for some sort of desperate need of release. His cock is mapping you out, becoming familiar with every ridge and valley of your softness, seeking out the entirety of you and the perfect curve of his dick is hitting spots that have you barking out yips of ecstasy.

Nan-gyu changes his angle and you can’t take it. There isn’t a slow thing about him. He fucks you like he’s been dying for it, like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, savage and wild, so fervent and profound that it’s making you see stars. He’s a little longer than Thanos- but only just a little, just enough for him to pound away at your cervix while you’re stuck folded and taut in his iron grip, damn near bouncing on his length. Wet squelches and the undeniable slap of skin on skin thicken the humidity between your bodies until it’s hard to breathe between the thickness and the rapid beat of pleasures sweeping through you in pulses.

You’re crying out broken little sounds that either die in your throat or find their way lost in all the hazy noise and he’s echoing you, telling you dirty, dirty things in your flushed ears, how you’re so fucking tight, how perfect and wet you are for him.

Someone- you can’t even figure out who anymore, finds your lonely clit under their fingers, rubbing quick and slick circles into the sensitive nub. Your thighs clamp down around Thanos’s waist but he’s too broad to offer any reprieve, your eyes slipping shut, head tossed back. It’s escapable- they’re inescapable, and their uneven tempos are making you see blank- a sheet of veneer white sparks you can feel with every pop. There’s no air left in your lungs, there’s so much pressure between your legs that you fear you may burst.

There’s a certain moment when you’re right on the edge. This perfect moment when you’re right there and then you’re rolling through it in convulsing waves. All the stars align, the inferno stoking within you suddenly becomes this roaring wildfire swallowing you whole. You’re at that peak, focused on nothing but the endless stream of slurred words and the feeling of being stuffed to the very brim, no singular spot of your leaking pussy left abandoned.

“You gonna’ cum?” Nam-gyu’s voice barely even registers with you when you first hear it. He’s still got you taking him in pistoning jerks of his hips, bullying himself into your poor, swollen sex. You don’t exactly try to nod, but the way you’re being pounded is making it all too easy to. Just a little more…

It’s not Nam-gyu pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit- no, his free hand is right back to grasping at your face, roughly flattening your hair back out of your face and keeping your expression on full display. Not quite pulling, but ensuring your head doesn’t leave its spot pressed against his shoulder.

“That’s it, fuck, lemme’ see you cum.” You’re twisting in his grip, drooling and babbling please, please, please, and the fucker is laughing at you between carnal grunts. He’s hissing and groaning against your cheek like you’ve made him feral.

“Come on, baby.” There’s another voice- Thanos’s, it’s reaching through the fog of lust and sultry cries, fishing you out of your own head and lulls you into a messy, heated kiss. You’ve gotten familiar with these lips now, familiar with the taste and the feel of his tongue slipping past your lips until you’re panting breathy cries against his taste buds. His fingers, you’ve realized, speed up their assault on your clit.

Anything anyone says after that point is lost on you.

If not for his lips on your own, you’d have outright screamed when you finally tipped over that edge. It’s everything, it’s everywhere. It’s in your eyes and your mouth, it’s in your toes and fingertips, it’s racing in colliding atoms up and down the length of your spine.

The sheer shove and weight of their cocks pushing and grinding raw friction into you, impossibly deep, their grips holding you in place, you’re in a damn chokehold. Can see nothing, can hear nothing. Can only feel, and feel, and feel that pressure having snapped and unfurled into blooming pleasure that takes root within the very core of your being.

You’re squeezing them, a torrent of slurry drenching and spilling around their shafts. Pulling, dragging, you’re clamping around them in pendulum pulses. It’s knocking the wind from their lungs, drawing out all the air in a slew of chest rumbling groans and teeth-whistling hisses. You’re delicious on it- blissed out and fucked and still being fucked with reckless abandon.

Nam-gyu bites and licks red into your neck, little specks turned into welts just above where your tracksuit collar reaches, the asshole. But he’s lucky- you’re so spent and raw and limp in their arms that you aren’t even registering it. That’s a problem for later, right now you’re too focused on how they’re both so damn heavy inside you, swollen intrusions that twitch for release everytime they drag along your plushy walls.

“Shit.” Thanos is gripping wounds into your thighs, hips stuttering, fighting his own release. You’re too warm, too perfect and tight around him, he doesn’t want this to end- not yet. Not when he’s got you just where he wants you. His head is falling on his shoulders, chest shaking with his stuttering breaths. “Slow down, slow down. Make it last.”

Nam-gyu listens. Kind of. For good measure he bucks up and slams himself as far as he’ll reach before he finally settles and breathes heavy pants against your collarbone.

“Slow down, man, fuck.”

“Can't help it, feels so good.” Tongue lapping over your jaw, cruel laughter grazing your skin in huffs. “Look at you. You feel good, baby? Hm?”

You’re still reeling from your orgasm, still riding out the aftershocks. Some strangled whimper-like sound leaves you, he’s laughing at you again, finds everything you do something worth a reaction. He kisses the marks he’s littered on your throat. Shivering and trembling, you’re blitzing on the borderline of over and under stimulation while they’re suspended inside of you. There’s a sense within you, something filthy and needy, that’s so insatiable, unsatisfied until they’ve had their fill with you. Or, perhaps, until you’ve been properly filled with them.

Thanos presses his forehead against yours. “See? I said we’d take care of you.”

“Feels- I’m-...” You’re breathing so hard it hurts. “I’m so full.”

Nam-gyu groans against your jaw. Your voice has this gravitational pull to him, like he leans on every word, or feels the primal need to meet you at the end of every noise you make. That same primal need also crosses him when you suddenly grind into him, feels the urge to find you halfway and kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick in a sharp buck. It rips a shrill sound from your throat, his tongue tasting the vibrations on your skin. Wet kisses dot your chin before they’re on the corner of your mouth, and then taking over your lips entirely.

Nimble fingers pinch and knead your clit, sliding through your swollen folds before showering the sensitive nub with attention. Thanos doesn’t wait for any sort of confirmation from you, barely even waits to collect himself before it’s been entirely too long since he’s felt you moving against him. You run your fingers through his hair, feel him sigh against your collarbone, and then he’s dipping down to bite marks into your chest. It’s that same rhythm that drives you insane, nerves buzzing back to life following your earth-shattering orgasm.

Nam-gyu is still by choice for the first time since he’d entered you, something about the way your lips are moving against him keeping him locked in this trance. One of your hands finds it’s way from Thanos’s hair and into Nam-gyus, having to reach over your shoulder to clutch at the back of his black strands. It beckons him, draws him in deeper into the feeling. When he finally does start to move again, it’s different. Different pace, different angle, different sounds, even. Sensual and smooth, a slow drag inch by inch until he’s just buried by the tip, then rocking his hips until he’s pressing hard against your cervix all over again.

You’re trying to be still, trying to not heave out breathless sobs but Thanos is still rubbing you and it’s too much to take- Nam-gyu eats every sound funneled into his lips, tongue tangled with yours, unwilling to let you catch your breath.

You don’t get even a second of reprieve, their rhythms mismatched but also perfectly timed, never a moment you aren’t full, wrecked with jolting twitches and shaking legs. At this point you’re just along for the ride, nothing but flesh and warmth and slick. A pound of meat masticated and devoured between them.

Teeth find your left nipple, Thanos’s excited hum meeting your ears when you writhe in response. He speeds up, both his thrusts and his fingers, grunts against your breast and you start to feel it- that deep, deep simmer between your legs. A crescendo up, and up, and up within your belly that mounts alongside the seconds. You’re so messy and wet that you’re feeling it run along the underside of your thighs, each movement accompanied by slapping skin and trilling moans.

Up, and up. The pressure building until you’re arching your back and trying to squeal into Nam-gyu’s mouth that you’re right there, you’re gonna-

You seize up around them and wail. It rips through you, spears you like a lance, you aren’t sure how anything in this life could ever feel so good. How anything will ever feel this delicious again.

Heaven is on earth, and it’s in your shaking hands and leaking pussy and shoved up inside you with their cocks. Surging pleasure washing through you and scrubbing you of everything else except the rut of their hips into yours.

Nam-gyu cums first, manages to fuck you through you through your own, but no longer than that, growling into your mouth and biting your lips and your biting your jaw when he wrenches himself out of your cunt and paints the underside of your thigh with thick, pearly ropes of his cum. He’s shaking hard, and you’re sure you’re shaking harder, more akin to a leaf in a raging storm than a fellow human being.

Thanos bites your shoulder. You’re absolutely covered in bites, in drool, in their sweet words lashing into your skin. He’s so close- you can feel him twitching inside of you, his cock pulsating before you feel the spread of his cum coating your walls. It’s thick, it’s red hot, and there’s so much of it that before he even pulls himself out of you it’s already dripping around him and onto the floor. Your head tips back, eyes half lidded, unfocused on the ceiling.

You’re hollow. You're so empty that it's uncomfortable, carved out and built into their perfect mold.

“Fucking dick. I pulled out.” Nam-gyu pants, irritated, but not on your behalf. No, irritated because he would have loved to see his own seed seep from your spent pussy and down your trembling thighs.

When you’re set back down, you forget how to stand. Your knees buckle underneath you in an instant and you plummet, only stopped by Thanos’s arms suddenly hoisting you up from underneath your shoulders. He pulls you to him, your face rubbing drool into the chest of his tracksuit. The ‘O’ patch scratches your face but you can’t be damned to care. You’re too focused on wondering how the hell you’re supposed to walk at all after this- fucked out and completely drunk on sex. Useless and sore and swollen.

You’re sticky, you’re sweaty, you’re fucking exhausted and barely managing to stay awake now that you’ve settled and the drugs are still in effect. Pretty soon now, when you’re able to stand upright without having someone supporting most of your weight, they’ll have to sneak back out of the room and saunter away to their beds. You’ll have to wash yourself off, again, and figure out how you’re going to get back to your little corner of the dormitory without limping.

But for now, you just hum out a sound dripping in satisfaction. Your eyes are shutting, all the tensions and the nerves slipping away in the white noise.

“I have to ask,” You slur. “How long have you guys been planning this.”

Thanos’s chest rumbles with his reply. “You don’t want to know.”

“You should have done it earlier. That was…” You start to laugh. It’s a drained, weary sound, but a laugh nonetheless. “Fuck. That was nice. I’ve wanted that.”

You can practically hear it when Nam-gyu shoots a wide-eyed glare at his friend.

“I told you!”

#nam-gyu #nam-gyu x reader #thanos #thanos x reader #thanos x reader x nam-gyu #squid game #smut #imagine #player 230 #player 124 #namgyu x reader #thanos x reader x namgyu

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zutarawasrobbed · 1 year ago

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ALTA Live Action Season 1 Initial Thoughts (Spoilers)

I just finished the season, and holy shit!

Quick things that need to be addressed/debunked:

“Sokka is no longer sexist”

I dont know what people were talking about when they talked about Sokka’s “sexism” being removed. It’s still there! But not in the overly exaggerated comical way it was in the original.

In fact, it’s more in line with ancient practices of indigenous tribes where men are seen as protectors and providers while women are expected to nurture. It’s not the same “boys are better than girls” narrative in the original.

Additionally, Suki still beats the fuck out of Sokka and humbled him really quick. They’re super cute by the way. And I love Suki’s “I like my men a little stupid” vibe. She’s great.

“Aang doesn’t run away like the original!”

That is not true. He does run away, but not because he’s trying to get away from the temple but instead to get some air because he feels overwhelmed. He’s more like taking a quick break and planning to come back. It’s not exactly the same, but almost. It also is done in a way where his guilt feels more justified.

“Katara doesn’t talk about her mom anymore like the original”

This is true… BECAUSE THEY SHOW INSTEAD OF TELL. I was honestly not prepared to see the death Kya in such graphic detail and how Katara was in the room hiding when it happened. It’s honestly really sad and more heartbreaking.

Plot:

The timeline seems to be ambiguous compared to the original series where it was “end of current year.” In fact, they repeat “three years” a few times, which makes me think if the series get greenlit for more seasons, it would be over a three year period.

Jet is still villainized but given more nuance and not a simple "good v bad" way like the original.

Zuko’s story about how he got his scar has additional lore that makes him come across as even more selfless and compassionate. The additional context of the platoon he advocated for in the war meeting, becoming his current crew, really added to the story.

Eradicated the nepotism baby plot point with Pakku only training Katara when he finds out he used to date her grandma. Instead, Katara proves herself and ends up teaching the other male fighters the techniques she learned from watching other benders use their elements and mimics them.

This season doesn’t have Aang learning any waterbending, but rather facing his trauma and the consequences of his actions. He get roasted by all his past lives. Which is an interesting choice, but I think it works well in how they executed it.

This season seems to actually be Katara focused and her journey of learning waterbending which I honestly loved because it really hits home the element of “water” being the story of an untrained waterbender learning her element. But, I do think Aang could’ve learned a little bending. It felt a little off.

Katara ends up advocating for all waterbending women and ends up leading an army of both men and women during the siege. She’s really bad ass and is given the title of master without being formally trained by Pakku. She made herself a master.

I think the timeline is a little wonky because of how much they had to fit in with the limited episodes they had.

Kuruk is given respect! I loved that.

June actually seems into Iroh which I thought was a funny but cool way to flip the script from the original.

The relationship between Zuko and Iroh is really beautifully executed. I love the depth they added with flashback scenes and their bond prior to the Agni Kai. It also wasn’t as frustrating watching Iroh and Zuko’s dynamic because Iroh communicated with Zuko in a way he could understand with straight answers rather than seeming to actively sabotage him with cryptic puns and shenanigans like the original.

They changed the love triangle with Yue Hahn and Sokka to be very healthy. They gave Yue autonomy and a choice in her relationship- which- again- is much more in line with indigenous cultures. Also, Hahn and Sokka’s relationship is really supportive and full of respect and no ill will.

They way they handled grief and the realities of war with the loss of life was very well done and really drove home the point that this is a war and these are child soldiers.

There’s a lot more but these are my initial thoughts. Will probably post more later.

Shipping:

Kataang is all but removed. Literally DOA. There is no indication of a crust on either side. It’s painted like a sibling relationship, which is like the original, but this time everyone seems to be on the same page. But, I swear the writers had to have read ZK fics because damn.

They canonized a popular Zutara theory/hc about the cave of two lovers and how the crystals would light up once it went completely dark instead of a “kiss” activating the crystal glow.

Speaking of the Cave of two lovers. They keep the Oma and Shu story with red and blue coloring. Making it come across more as foreshadowing than a direct link to the present tunnel story.

Sokka is put in Aang’s place with Katara in the tunnels and turned it into a story about the love of family and sibling bonds. Aang wasn’t even present.

Zuko and Katara share a meaningful look when they first see each other and continue to have a Katara centric scene followed by a Zuko centric scene and vice versa.

The scarf scene. I will not be elaborating further. If you know, you know.

Zuko and Katara fight scene in the North is epic. He still taunts her with almost the exact same dialogue but it’s so sassy- I love the banter.

Suki and Sokka were really cute and the actors had great chemistry. I think Yue and Sokka was really rushed and didn’t really feel anything about them, honestly. But I attribute that to lack of episodes to develop all that plot.

#zutara #katara #zuko #atla #atla live action spoilers

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months ago

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I have a really soft and cute au for Lesbian Janet that could work in any universe but I think works best in the Young Justice TV Show Universe.

See, everyone gets really confused when Tim talks about his Mom, sometimes referring to her as Mama. Tim thinks that using two different titles like that should make it Obvious that he has Two Moms but well. The Bats may be Super Geniuses but they are still Idiots. Tim is also an absolute Mama's Boy with Both his Moms. He loves them both So Much.

Oh, where is Jack you ask? He doesn't actually exist. He's the fake name and personality that Tim's Mama came up with and used Magic to disguise as so they could get Legally Married For Tax Benifits. Also to get his Mama a legal identity. Why would she need one of those? Well... as was mentioned, Tim's Mama has Magic with a Captial M. This by extension means Tim is Magic With A Capital M as well. Totally has nothing to do with Janet and his Mama sculpting him from clay and breathing life into him. Woes of pregnancy who? Not Janet that's for sure.

Also Tim does Not tell anyone that he has Magic and he doesn't show it off. The only reason the Bats found out about it is because Tim came to a meeting with Bruce and Diana went "you. Your Magic is Familure but I don't know from where." And Tim was sweating while saying, "Magic? What magic??" And after getting questioned by Diana and Bruce he Caves and tells them a half truth, "fine. I was made from Clay, like you. My Mom didn't want to go through the struggles of Childbirth but still wanted a child. Instead of adopting like any sane and rational person, she made a deal with a God or Godess. I don't know all the details but she owed them something in exchange for Me. I do know the debt has been paid already though."

The debt was simply a tea spoon of blood for the ritual and A Kiss. Janet over paid the second part by a lot.

As for how Janet met and wooed A Goddess? Well, she was on a dig in Greece when her boat she was using to get to another island was caught in a storm and washed up on a different island. The Goddess was expecting violence or anger at being stranded, perhaps even Sorrow. But no, Janet took one look at the Temple in the distance and was pushing past her saying she needed to get to the Temple because it's clearly in *amazing* condition and could bring So Many insights into Ancient Greek culture and building practice. For the first time in decades, as this Random Woman ran her hand along a pillar and started rambling about the design and what the type of collums were called, Circe felt herself blushing.

CIRCE?!?!?

FUCK YEAH.

Anyways, this is absolutely adorable. Fuck. I would love an entire fic of Janet. Here's a general plot line:

Janet hasn't ever really been interested in romance. She's tried dating a few guys in high school for appearance sake, but she usually broke the relationship off when they became too affectionate.

This is when others started referring to her as "cold." She wasn't, but few people got close enough to her to listen to her rambles about ancient civilizations, archeology, and sociality impacts of culture. She enjoyed other stuff, but nothing quite lit her up like those topics did.

In college, she did find and make a few friends with similar interests. This is where she figured out she was into women and not men. The relationships lasted longer, but she was single by the time she graduated with her bachelor's.

Her master's ends up as some sort of work study where she travels the world. She's more invested in her studies and work than relationships at this point. She enjoys learning about people's lives and cultures but doesn't seek out more than friendship.

I'm not sure if Janet has already or is working on her doctorate by the time she ends up lost on an island (or really how archeology even pays bills).

When she arrives on the island, there's a beautiful woman there as well. Janet notices this, but doesn't give a flying fuck in comparison to the architecture.

And Circe? Finds herself amused and confused by this woman who, although is into women, doesn't care about Circe's looks. Janet just keeps asking questions about Circe's life, the temple, the plants, the culture, etc. It becomes endearing watching her work late into the night with her research.

Janet is so enthralled in all that is going on that she doesn't notice Circe's continuous flirting. It's so fucking frustrating for Circe, but makes her unbearably fond as well. Janet starts to consider this drop dead gorgeous woman a close friend of hers as they "work" late into the chatting about ancient Greece, their past experiences, and their lives. Janet, who has some experience with romance but not much, even flirts back. After all, women call each other beautiful all the time and hold hands and shit. Surely Janet can platonically cuddle with her friend while Circe compares Janet's eyes to the night sky.

It's only when Janet is ready to leave that she realizes that she's willing to give up everything she's worked for, all of her findings and education, to have more time with Circe. Janet is in love with her best friend.

Also, Circe is able to get a fake ID as "Jack" due to magic and Janet's connections

#janet drake #dc au #thank you for the ask!!!!#lesbian janet drake #hc autistic janet drake

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mias-back-from-the-dead · 6 months ago

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so this was a line in a fanfic I recently read but it has me fuckign crawling up the walls and watching D&W in a new light

it's part of a larger oh/oh moment paragraph rant wade goes on but the line is:

"I would have happily gone on assuming that this Wolverine is canonically a fuck machine who only sleeps with women ever and that I could hit on him to my dick’s content and never have to worry about the possibility of real rejection"

and that last line COMPLETELY reframed half of wade's actions for me in the movie.

Cuz on the surface level there's the hee-hoo deadpool hits on every single hero joke of it all, which is probably all the writers were thinking about when those lines and directions went onto the script. They needed the throughline of wade being seriously still hung up on vanessa for plot reasons but didn't want to give up all the ridiculous flirt jokes.

From a hollywood writer's perspective, the solution is an easy 'Okay, he flirts with dudes ONLY, no prob, there's a Logan shaped comedic 'straight man' for him to do that at for 90+minutes'

But like. There's Implications to that as a Choice, when you characterize a dude that's so rejection avoidant and purpose-seeking that an avengers' dismissal kills all motivation for putting the suit on at all.

Pointing affections at literally any direction other than people who MIGHT take him seriously. Flirt on his favourite heroes, antiheroes, maybe even a TVA employee or two instead. It isn't that he's not ACTUALLY into Colossus's giant metal ass or Logan's oiled up tits, I'm sure they rev the engines like anything else, but I'm super willing to explore the idea that he's way more comfortable in throwing himself in directions where the rejections aren't 'real' to him. If the writers never thought about that implication, I'm going with concept that Wade doesn't even realize he's doing it at all unless he's in a fanfic universe with a decent oh/oh moment.

It makes me wonder what style of bluescreen he'd go through the second Logan yes-and's in a way that might be interpreted as flirting back. It makes me think of the countless number of dudes he's hit on in the comics despite most of his longer-term relationships being with women. Don't get me wrong, I KNOW the Doylist perspective is likely that most writers go down the straight relationships, gay jokes avenue but it's SO much more interesting to play it watsonian here. it's just a really good fanfic direction to lean down, this fucker is made up of exactly 50/50 emotional anguish about rejection and shitpost dick humour and I just wanna read more works where they feed into each other instead of being tackled separately

HHHHHHh I dUNNO IF I KEEP WRITING IM JUST GONNA GO IN CIRCLES JUST GO READ THE FIC ^

#long post #deadpool & wolverine #deadpool #character study #sorta?#shit i lost 2 fucking hours thinkging about this motherfucker #somethine something the queer experience of flirting without intent because it's easier than rejection

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fiapartridge · 7 months ago

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you don't go to parties | j. hughes 🎆🪩✨

“i don’t know who im looking for ‘cause you don’t go to parties anymore…” you don’t go to parties, 5 seconds of summer

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: after ending your relationship with jack, he finally plucks up the courage to attend a party—and all he can think about is you.

warning(s): cursing, smut (like they have sex but it’s more heated & slow than trying to be super smutty), angst + fluff?? (in some aspects LOL), also noticing now that there was no protection so beware lol

author’s note: i don’t write smut so this is probably the closest ill ever get to writing it LOL but it’s much more for the plot rather than it trying to be super 18+, r-rated type smut yk

wc: 4.01k

not proofread

Glitter hung in the air, every room bathed in a purple glow as Jack hung by the wall, nursing a beer he had managed to snag from the cooler outside. The air was thick with the scent of perfumes and sweat, and the music thumped in his chest, yet he felt—detached, almost alone in the scheme of things.

The party was a blur of lights and sounds, of hookups and dancing. None of it held any interest for him, but his friends had practically begged him to come. They nagged him the entire summer to leave the lakehouse, to have a drink at the bar downtown, or even to just go on a drive with them, but Jack always came up with an excuse. “Can’t. Training for next season,” or “Gotta raincheck. Something came up.”

They knew what it was. It was obvious. He was missing you. You plagued his mind every second of every minute of every day. Jack knew he had messed up. The moments leading up to the collapse of your relationship replayed in his mind like a broken record—the arguments, the tears, the things he said that he couldn’t take back. The memories of you haunted him. He could feel you throughout the whole house.

You met Jack when you were 17. He hosted a draft party at the lake house the second he got back home to Michigan. Jack, being the cocky teenager he was at the time, made it an open-invite party. Sure, it wasn’t smart on his part but he was a clueless teen. He didn’t know better, but he thanks himself everyday knowing that that one decision led him to meeting you.

Your brother—one of Jack’s school friends—had been invited and asked if you wanted to come. You were hesitant at first. You had seen Jack around school, laughing loudly with his friends or pressing a girl up against the lockers, locking themselves together with heated kisses. You had always found him obnoxious, masking his stupidity with insensitive jokes and being portrayed as a “dumb jock.” But ever the hypocrite you were, because there you were, at that obnoxious, insensitive guy’s draft party. Go you.

Entering the house, you noticed the high ceilings and swarm of strangers that knew Jack better than you; who were probably wondering why you were even there, or who you even were. To your left, a group of friends talked animatedly on a set of plush couches, their drinks spilling out of their cups with every swing of their arms, and their makeup perfectly done on their face like they had hired professionals for this specific event. You felt out of place and, to your luck, your brother had abandoned you the second you stepped through that door.

Who knew you could be surrounded by hundreds of people, yet still feel so alone?

Weaving through the crowded house, you made your way to the backyard, which was just as packed as inside the house, except there was a slight breeze and it didn’t smell as terrible. String lights criss-crossed above the partygoers, creating a canopy of twinkling stars. A fire pit crackled in one corner, Adirondack chairs lining the perimeter as guests chatted all around you. The pool was lit within, its water glowing an intoxicatingly vivid blue. You stood there, watching the stillness of the water as everyone filled around you. The music thumped in your chest, in your ears, in your bloodstream, but you watched the water, and for a moment, you felt okay.

“I always wanna jump in at parties,” a deep voice said beside you.

You hesitated before speaking. “Why don’t you? It’s your party, isn’t it?” you asked, face-to-face with the man of the hour. His chestnut hair was cut short, truly showing how young he is. You wondered how he could do this: have eyes on him at all times, have so many expectations weighing on his conscience, being judged constantly. It felt—suffocating, to say the least.

“Do you know how many hockey legends are here?” he laughed, as if the building was swarmed with secret spies.

“And yet you’re standing here. Why’s that?” you asked, looking up at the boy.

And for the first time in your life, Jack Hughes looked at you. And it wasn’t in the gross, disgusted way he looked at clumsy kids in the hallway, or the way he looked at pretty girls like they were his next meal. He looked at you in earnest, an emotion you didn’t even know he was capable of possessing.

“Do you think I don’t know you?” he eyed you, his brow raising as you broke his—hate to admit it—intimidating gaze. You watched the water before you, crossing your arms over your chest as you began to feel that unwelcome, fish-out-of-water feeling again. Moving closer to you, his voice fell almost to a whisper as you felt chills run down your spine due to the proximity. “I know you’re the obnoxious girl that thinks she knows every answer to every question, who already judged every single person at this party without ever learning their names, who doesn’t like me, yet still came. Why’s that?” he asked, repeating the same question you had asked just moments before.

You felt bare in front of him, confused as to how he knew any of that stuff about you. Surely he was too busy making out with girls and slinging a stick around to pay attention to you. So why had he just read you like a book without you having to say a single word?

You shrugged. “I wanted to see what you were about, I guess.”

“Yeah?” he smirked, his tongue poking his cheek as you dared yourself not to look up at him. “How’d I do?”

“Not sure yet.”

He bumped his shoulder with yours, butterflies bumbling around your stomach. “Not just a dumb jock, you know. That’s all Luke.”

You scoffed quietly, a small smile playing on your lips as you lessened up the need to try to fight it. You were smiling because of Jack Hughes, and to be honest, you didn’t really mind it. “He asked me the difference between a square and a rectangle once,” you joked. You had some classes with Luke, and while you two weren’t best friends, you still talked to each other once in a while.

Jack laughed, watching Luke in the corner of his eye try to talk to a girl that was way too old for him. “You’re laughing,” he smiled, noticing you cover your face and still your giggles. “See, I’m not that bad.”

You rolled your eyes before looking up at him. He watched the partygoers on the other side of the pool mingling, his jawline sharpened and his moles scattering much of the surface area of his face. You hadn’t noticed much about his appearance until then, until you finally got a good look at him, at his personality.

You two sat poolside for a while, your legs dipped in the water as you talked about anything and everything. Occasionally people would pull him away to chat, but he would always come back to you, telling you all about the boring conversations, how much he hated networking at a party that’s supposed to be fun, how he hated being treated and expected to be like an adult when he was far from it.

He didn’t notice he was talking to you for so long until the party thinned and it was just you and him in the backyard. Cups littered all around you, his mom picking them up as she not-so-subtly eavesdropped on your conversation. His brothers were inside the house, watching you two from the kitchen window, and Trevor and Cole speculated who you even were while trying not to pass out on the couch in the living room.

For the first time in a while, Jack felt, I don’t know, good about himself? Like he wasn’t praised for doing such little things, or told he’s some amazing person just because he’s good at passing a puck around. Like he was able to talk, and someone was there to listen. And for some reason, he actually kind of liked being criticized by you. It showed that you paid attention; that you were real. He hadn’t met someone real in a while.

He remembered the time you had dragged him to a New Year’s Eve party at your friend Avery's apartment a couple years later.

He was wearing “2024”-shaped sunglasses that matched yours, and a shiny, gold, plastic fedora that made you laugh every time you looked at him. His arms were wrapped around you from behind as you entered the house, his lips planting a kiss on the crown of your head as you two separated to hug the group of people that stood near the door.

You talked to your friends, catching up on everything you guys missed in each other’s lives while in college. Jack snuck up behind you, kissing your cheek before slipping off your coat and placing it on the couch by the entrance.

The party was chill, much more relaxed than any of the parties Jack was invited to that night. You had urged him to go to them, knowing he would have much more fun with his friends, singing karaoke, getting wasted, and blasting music until they can’t hear anymore, but he shook his head, saying, “Parties are only fun if you’re there,” he shrugged. “Besides, how am I supposed to get my New Year’s kiss without you?”

The two of you mingled for a while, sharing nostalgic stories about high school and the time Jack had confused “pads with wings” with pads and chicken wings. The living room was filled with soft music and the hum of conversations. Jack kept close, his hand finding yours every now and then as if to ask if you were okay, if you needed food or a refill on your drink, if you were tired and wanted to go home—you were always his first priority.

As the night progressed, the countdown to midnight drew closer. People began to gather in the living room, excitement buzzing in the air. Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve played on the television as Jack pulled you to a spot where you could both see the screen. His arm wrapped around your waist, and you leaned into him, sniffing his cologne and laughing when he caught you.

Before you knew it, the countdown began and everyone started chanting along.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

You turned to Jack, his eyes locked on yours, a charismatic smile playing on his lips. Even after dating for five years, he still managed to make you nervous. You had hoped that that feeling would never go away. You want to be nervous because of Jack Hughes every single night—forever.

“Seven, six, five…”

The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there.

“Four, three, two…”

Jack’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his palm warm and tender against your skin as you leaned into it.

“One! Happy New Year!”

Cheers erupted around you, but all you could focus on was Jack as he leaned in—not too slow, not too fast—capturing your lips in an impossibly better-than-the-last, sweet, honey kiss. Your hands were in his hair, his were glued to your hips, and it was perfect. And for a moment, it was just you and him, sharing the first kiss of the new year.

When you finally pulled away, grins were etched to your faces. You still couldn’t believe he was yours.

“Happy New Year,” Jack whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

“Happy New Year,” you echoed.

Jack’s head rested against the wall behind him, his eyes closed, the music muffling around him as he thought back to the first time he said “I love you.”

It was your 18th birthday and you were celebrating it at the lake house. Knowing Alex, Trevor, and Cole, they planned this huge rager for you, inviting nearly half the neighborhood—and then some.

After you said your hellos and knowing that the party could continue without you, you wandered upstairs, finding yourself in Jack’s room as you sat on his bed; his gray cover soft under your fingertips as you brushed over the fabric. You just needed a minute.

Before you knew Jack—like, really knew Jack—you hadn’t had a birthday party in years. It wasn’t like your family didn’t care about you, or your friends didn’t want to celebrate you. Everyone in your life meant something to you, and you meant something to them too. You just couldn’t go to parties to save your life. You would walk in, see all the girls that are prettier than you, all the guys that act like you don’t exist, you’d get in your head, get overwhelmed, and leave quickly after. This just wasn’t for you.

And because Jack knew you, he knew you would be upstairs.

The door slowly creaked open, causing your head to rise, and a sigh to fall from your lips—just Jack. He smiled at you, shutting the door softly behind him as he sat beside you on the bed. You two sat surrounded by the soft glow of dim lamps, and the distant thumping of music that had seeped through the floorboards beneath your feet.

His heart pounded in his chest. He knew you were beautiful, but sometimes he’s just so amazed by you, like you’re a new person every single day. Like there were new discoveries to be made, like he could never get bored with you. To Jack, you were everything. And who needs anything else in the world if he had everything sitting right beside him?

His hand rested on your thigh, his thumb running up and down the exposed skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You furrowed your brows. “For what?”

He shrugged. “For the party. I know you didn’t want it.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want it,” you murmured, sighing. “It’s just—I’m not Trevor, or Cole, or the number one overall draftee, Jack Hughes,” you smirked, bumping your shoulder with his.

He shook his head. “No one’s telling you to be. We could’ve watched a movie,” he suggested, grinning. “Or gone on a shopping spree, or went on a drive. You don’t have to do anything for anyone else, especially on your birthday.”

“I like parties when you’re there—and no one else is,” you laughed as Jack scoffed, a smile pulling at his lips.

“I like those parties, too.” He went silent for a minute, just the hum of music playing from the outside filling the room as you focused on his thumb on your thigh. “I know I’ve been busy with hockey and everything lately, but I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re not important to me, or that I’m not thinking about you, because I am—all the time. You’re the most important person in my life.”

Your heart swelled at his words as you squeezed his hand. “I know, J,” you nodded. “I knew what I was getting into when you asked me out,” you smiled, meeting his gaze.

He had been busy with his rookie season for the past year: being called a bust, getting injured over and over again, fans questioning if the Devils made the correct choice with him. He grew quiet during those months, more frustrated—with himself, with his game, with the people around him. You were worried for him, begging him to just talk to you about it. He shielded himself from everything and everyone. He almost lost you because of it, and he vowed to never do that shit ever again; to never get so close to losing himself that he ends up losing you.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re really fuckin’ cool, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, that smile planted on your lips never fading away. “I know.”

Laughing, he smiled, a small, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace. “I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You buried your face in Jack’s chest, breathing in the familiar scent of seasalt and ocean breeze. “Luckily for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

He kissed the top of your head, his chin resting on your hair as your cheek laid against his chest. “I love you,” he whispered, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

He felt you tense beneath him, pulling back slightly. His heart sped up. “What?”

He gulped before breathing in. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice steadier this time. “I think I’ve always been in love with you—you make it hard not to be.”

Your breath caught, a small smile encapsulating your blushy face. “I love you, too.”

Before you could say anything else, Jack closed the distance between the two of you, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. The music was gone, the thumping of your heartbeat was put to the back of your mind, every doubt and every worry you had for this relationship was dissipated immediately—nothing existed at this moment. It was jack, jack, jack, plus a hundred times more.

Jack’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You responded naturally, your fingers threading through his hair, holding him close as if afraid he might disappear, like this moment was just a figment of your imagination.

Gently, Jack guided you higher up the bed, his movements careful and deliberate. He laid you down, hovering over you, his eyes filled with adoration. “I love you so much,” he whispered against your lips before capturing them in another kiss.

Your hands roamed his back as you tugged at his shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours. Jack immediately understood, pulling away just long enough to discard his striped tee before returning to you, his kisses growing more urgent.

As you pulled him closer, your own shirt joined his on the floor, your lacy red bra standing out against your skin. Jack’s breath hitched at the sight, his hands trembling as they traced the contours of your body, committing every inch and every curve to memory. He wanted to explore every dimple and every mole, every birthmark, and every faint touch that made you squirm. He wanted to know you, as thoroughly as possible.

“Holy shit,” he murmured breathlessly, praising you to the highest level. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Jack’s lips left a trail of kisses down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He paused, his gaze meeting yours, a silent question in his eyes. He wouldn’t do anything unless you wanted to. You answered with a nod, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw before pulling him back to you.

“I love you, Jack,” you whispered against his lips. “I want this.”

Jack’s hands moved with increasing urgency, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Roaming lower, they explored the curve of your waist before slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. His fingers found their way to your core, gently exploring, teasing.

A soft moan escaped your lips, your body arching against his touch. “Jack,” you breathed.

He kissed you deeply, his fingers moving with deliberate, tender motions, drawing soft gasps and breathless moans. “I love you…so much,” he murmured against your lips.

Your breaths became ragged, his name becoming the only thing left in your vocabulary. The room grew warmer, more intoxicating. Jack felt you getting closer to your high, quickly removing his fingers before you could reach it as you whined out, breathless.

He paused, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot and heavy. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked again.

You nodded, your eyes locked with his. “I’m sure, Jack. I want you.”

With a shuddering breath, he captured your lips again, the kiss deep and all-consuming. His hands found the clasp of your bra, unhooking it, and letting it fall away. He stared at you for a moment, taking in your bare body before his lips began to trail downwards, worshiping every inch of you.

Your hands found the waistband of his pants, your hands working sloppily as you fumbled with the button. Paying no mind, he helped you, discarding his pants and boxers in one swift motion. Jack’s body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin against yours almost too much to bear. His kisses were everywhere, trailing down your neck, across your collarbone, and finally to your breasts, where he lingered, drawing soft moans from your lips.

You arched against him, your body pleading for more, for everything. "Jack, please," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

He met your eyes, his gaze soft and safe. "I love you," he said again, his voice full of emotion. "Let me show you how much."

With that, he kissed you deeply, his body aligning with yours. The moment he entered you, it was like everything else fell away, leaving only the two of you, connected in the most intimate way possible. The rhythm of your movements, the gasps and moans, all blended perfectly, like this was right where you were supposed to be—with Jack, here, and in love.

His thrusts were slow at first, measured, each one driving you closer to the edge. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was overwhelming. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeated against your lips, over and over again.

Jack’s thrust became more urgent, his breathing ragged, matching your own. His heavy grunts, as your fingers dug into his back pulling him closer, closer, impossibly closer, filled the warm room.

As your climax built, your hands weaved through his hair, needing to feel him, needing to be as close as humanly possible. Each thrust hit harder and faster than the last, bringing you closer to the edge.

“Jack,” you cried out, your body tensing as that unfamiliar feeling approached, the high almost too much to handle.

His face was buried in your neck, holding you tightly. “Y/N,” he groaned, pushing you through your high, his own release nearly there.

With a final thrust, the string you held onto so tightly, slipped from your fingers, a balloon inside you erupting at the feeling. You cried out his name once more, your body trembling with the force of your release. Jack followed, his own climax crashing over him.

You clung to each other, your bodies trembling with aftershocks. Jack held you against his chest, his breath ragged, and his heart pounding against yours.

As you laid entwined, the world slowly came back into focus. The sounds of the party were distant now, a faint reminder of where you were. But at that moment, it didn’t matter. You didn’t care about what was going on downstairs, who was missing you, or who was asking for Jack. All that mattered right now was the two of you, and it felt perfect.

“Don’t know if I said it enough, but I love you,” Jack chuckled, his arm wrapped around your small frame.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. “I love you, too, J. Always.”

Always.

Opening his eyes, Jack watched the crowd around him, his gaze instinctively searching for you. He didn’t know why he was doing it. There was no point—not anymore, not when he fucked everything up. Not when he let you slip from his fingers and leave his life entirely.

His eyes settled on a girl in the corner of the room, a red solo cup in hand, her cheeks a flushed mess, and he wondered why he was even at that party. None of these girls could hold a candle to you, not even if they tried.

Yet Jack watched the door, and willed for you to come, despite knowing you don’t go to parties anymore.

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