#if not the entire cup thrown at their head

[vialae]

Do you think when Gortash goes to drink something, Durge will push the cup up just a little bit more so that he tips it on himself?

[hoshigray]

Hellooo, I have a requesttt. Bully!Geto & bully!gojo x reader please!!

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: didn't know how to tackle this, but I think I got it >:3

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting; satosugu + you are juniors - sex in shared space; college dorm - fingering (f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play - oral (m! receiving) - facials - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - Eiffel Tower/spit-roasting position - slight degradation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, good girl, plaything, pretty girl, sweetheart) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside, tho) - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

“—Gaaahh!! N-Noo, shtop! No more, no mo—Oooh!”

“Aww, don’t go cryin’ on us yet; let’s see how much this pussy can cum!”

“Satoru, keep playing with their nipples; they keep gripping my fingers like crazy…”

Being bullied seems to be an everyday thing for a wimp like you—especially in the hands of Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto.

What kind of person lets two of the hottest guys in the school bully them? You’re practically nearly a full-ass grown adult; you shouldn’t be letting people push you around like it’s middle school! And yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to stand for yourself, too meek and reserved to step up the ladder of confrontation, even if it’s from people who’ve tormented you most of your life.

Gojo and Geto have been your bullies for nearly your entire academic life, starting from first grade. To say that your life was hell on Earth was just the surface, coming home in tears and wishing to disappear every single day. The emotional toil was too much to bear, so much so that you did everything in your power to make sure you didn’t end up in the same high school as the two, a task that you’re proud to act on as making friends and getting through the final four years of your primary education became easier to accomplish. 

However, this fulfillment was thrown out the window when you walked on campus grounds and discovered that after two years, your bullies had transferred to the same college as you! Not only in the same place but in the same dorm section and sharing the same class—had the world gone mad?! Just when you have accepted this new chapter in your life to start anew and fresh, these two spin back and the pool of anxiety swallows you back up and pulverizes your heart. There was no way for this situation to be envisaged.

“Ohaaa!! Shtooop, t’ooo fasst!!”  

And now, they have new methods to diminish your dignity.

Against your comfort, you and the two were assigned a spreadsheet to work on and have it done by Thursday, so you three were supposed to be working in the living room of their dorm apartment. Nevertheless, you don’t think lying on the couch with your back to Gojo and Geto between your legs has anything to do with the assignment…

You were squirming, Gojo’s slender hands cupping and fondling your chest, tips of his fingers tweaking your nipples roughly so that you whine helplessly. Legs spread open for your panties and bare cunt to be exposed when you were stripped from your leggings, and Geto toys your private part with his fingers. The sensation of his middle digit inside you was hard to believe, like the howl from curling onto the upper wall of your vagina.

“Uuuwww, ohmyGoooood…!” You throw your head back to the shoulder of the white-haired one whose forefingers circle the buds of your mounds. “W-We can’t be—hic—doing this…”

“Ehhh, c’mon, baby,” hearing Gojo talk to your ear so close has to be something out of a dream or nightmare. “Who says we can’t play with our favorite person, huh?”

You gulp at the lick of your earlobe. “Because…we have work to d—Aaahh!”

“Don’t think about that assignment when I’m busy shoving my fingers in you,” Geto reminds you, the pace of his digit increasing and the scrape of his fingertip having your toes curl. “Doesn’t the pretty girl wanna play us like old times?”

A hand grabs his wrist, yet that does little to hinder the raven-haired one’s diligence within your leaking chasm. “B-But…We can’t!” Jesus, it’s tough to think adequately the more Geto pushes and pulls his finger, brushing it up against your texture. Tears welled up in your eyes, your body sore from their constant touches.

“God, still cryin’ from being teased, huh, crybaby?” Gojo chuckles while cupping your cheeks. “Still a cutie, though…”

No way, there’s absolutely no way! You had to be dreaming because there is no way you’re awake to see the day Gojo is kissing you! Biting your bottom lip and shoving his tongue inside, your brain practically explodes as you moan in his mouth, and your slit contracts the rub of Geto’s finger. Did you just cum from a kiss?!

“Oh wow, they’re spasming like crazy,” Geto chortles at the sight of your legs trembling and your genitalia fluttering around the digit. “Cumming from a kiss, huh? Heh, so easy to mess with.”

Your response was deterred to that of imperceptible wails, crying into Gojo’s pillowy lips as he sucked on your tongues to hear you sob more. This was so unfair; this situation was not in your favor once you were dragged into their apartment.

Not even in the next phase of this meet-up.

Your clothes are discarded from your body to the living room floor, mounting on the couch on all fours, Geto to your front and Gojo to your back. The three of you are too far gone to think about the damn assignment—your frame too occupied by their cocks to evade them so.

Soapy lips suck on the dick of the dark-haired other, puffy cheeks making room for the limb burrowing inside your mouth. He fucks you orally with vigor, snapping his hips to your lips as your head pounds with every jab to the back of your throat. You’re not left with a second to breathe calmly, his girth overwhelming.

“Fuuuhhck, Jesus Christ,” he curses, grinding his pelvis and moaning at the feel of your tight throat. “Such a good girl, sucking me so well; got the mouth of a great cumslut.”

“Has the pussy of one, too!”

The words burn your ears, coming from behind as the guy with snowy hair plunges his length into your vagina. His hands are situated on your waist to keep you on him, the curve of his cock scratching your sweet spots too accurately that you’re forced to scream on the other’s shaft.

Gojo throws his head back with a sigh, “Fuckin’ shiiiit, this pussy…clamping on me so hard, you wanna milk me dry?” He bends down to your ear, “Want my load so bad like a little whore?” Squeezing on him was inevitable, making him hiss. “Fuck! Don’t do that…”

“Damn this throat, man,” you peer up to Geto. Your eyes have already released the tears stricken down your face, the lower part of your face all hot from the frequent hits. He chortles, “You look so good all messy like that, sweetheart…Holy shit, you looked so fucked out.” 

Of course you were; they’ve been toying with your body for ten minutes with no rest! Your frame was aching so bad, sobbing because of the cock busying your throat and the dick grazing your G-spot. It was too much to catch up with, especially when Gojo sneaks a hand to your clit to rub and swipe. Your eyes roll to the ceiling, and a scream is muffled, your figure submitting to the pinches on your sensitive pearl.

“Wanna cum?” Silver brows trench together at the clamp of your walls. “Do it, cum on my dick, you nasty crybaby.” 

More tweaks to your clitoris coincide with the erratic pistons of Gojo’s thighs, and you have no choice but to climax once more. Your cunt tightens around his cock with every hit of your orgasm, and he makes sure to get his raw cock out of you to ejaculate his milky fluid onto your back, painting your skin with his load.

The same goes for Geto as well, who grabs your head and roughly pulls himself off to paint your face with his essence. You whimper with every quiver and addition of his sperm, spurting to your forehead and decorating your cheeks to slide down your chin. You never felt so dirty in your life, your tongue accidentally tasting it from licking your lips. “Good girl,” he compliments with a teasing pinch to your cheek.

Gojo rubs his length on the cusp of your butt. “Man, cutie, you keep driving me crazy.” His fingers aimlessly play with your clit. “Now I really can’t leave you alone…”

Dread weighs your bones at his words, and you can only question how you can survive these upcoming semesters with these harassers. And now that they’re hooked on you, this fresh new start has become much more suffocating…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[forlix]

𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞・b.c.

— incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

words・2.8k pairing・frat president!chris x gn!reader genres・fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, college!au, fuckboy!chris, boys being boys, kissing, implied sex so mdni warnings・substance use, talk of past heartbreak

a/n・here is "nobody believes you're dating" w/chan, requested by none other than my @rachalixie for my 2k event !! anny, i hope u love this fic as much as i love u; thank you for allowing me to write something so self-indulgent <3

In the deafening throes of one of Phi Mu Alpha’s spring kickbacks, Minho finds Jeongin and Seungmin standing in motionless silence by the kitchen counter. Both boys are gaping at something with an intensity that dips egregiously into the realm of creepy. He moves to pour himself a shot.

“What the fuck are you people looking at?”

Seungmin prods a pointer finger in the relevant direction. It takes a few seconds of scanning the scene for Minho to find what he’s referring to. He digs a knuckle into his eye, instantly confused by what he’s seeing. Maybe the gaping is justified.

The windows and doors have all been thrown open to invite the balmy April weather into the foyer of the frathouse. There’s a large crowd of people huddled around a long, foldable table stationed before the stairs; Jaehyun clutches a ping-pong ball between his fingers, singular eye squinted shut as he takes aim. The number of remaining solo cups dwindles rapidly, as does the players’ sobriety.

Something—someone—is missing.

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Well, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

That is, aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder. 

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus as he pores over his production homework. You can hear music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He startles as if coming out of a trance, then begins to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers, but only after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. You brush a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly that you barely remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Always,” you say. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum.

“Says you,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

Your lips find each other’s again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity. Some time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to whisper for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing; you’re hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds. 

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes. 

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too. 

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh. 

“It’s you,” you breathe. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode. 

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear.

Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes—but happiness looks better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[satorena]

❛ # MÉNAGE À TROIS ! ❜

ᡣ𐭩 featuring. g. satoru x reader x g. suguru

☆ warnings. explicit content. foul language. thrēēsome (mmf). getting caught in the act. ceo!satoru and secretary!reader make a comeback. jealous gojo. ceo!suguru but he’s a pervert. crēāmpie. fīngerīng. oral (f+m). backshots. afab!reader. feminine descriptions used.

ᡣ𐭩 serena's note. can be read as a stand-alone but it’s basically a continuing to unprofessionalism !

“are you—mmph, insane?!” you’re hoping your words are convincing enough to draw him back to his senses, despite them jumbling out your mouth and right into his. pressed up against the door of the empty bathroom, your legs are spread apart in favour to be supported by a strong thigh. big hands slide from your lower back to your ass, and squeeze, forcing a moan out of you. “we’re in public— we’ll get caught!”

when gojo does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects from his bottom lip to yours. he pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red as the corner of his mouth tugs into a sadistic smile, “yeah but don’t that make it more excitin’ though?”

you blink at him, the thought having already crossed your mind. you weren’t in any position to oppose as you’d even gone commando to a formal business dinner all due to your perverted boss’ orders. but a lot would be at stake here— you both could lose your jobs if caught, and you’d most likely be labelled a whore for the rest of your career. naturally, that was the last thing you wanted, and yet—

“quit overthinkin’ sweets,” you’re pulled out of your train of thought when his bulge grinds against your core. you gasp, eye lids fluttering shut as a rush of heat spreads in your gut. you feel his hands grip your waist and drag your hips forward, angling your body at a perfect position enough to force a whine out of you.

he leans forward to seal his lips with yours yet again, and you foolishly kiss him back. gojo pulls away too quickly for your liking, though his lips trail from the corner of your mouth to trail hot kisses at your jaw, to the slope of your neck. “promise we’ll be quick, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“b-but,” you stammer, head thrown back against the cold surface of the door as your fingernails claw to the fabric of his expensive blazer. you try to recollect your thoughts, perfectly aware of how risky this entire situation could be. you do not get wetter because of the idea of getting caught—no way, you’d rather blame it on the stimulation of your clit rubbing against muscly thighs. “i could lose my job! or worse, we could lose our jobs—”

“‘m not gonna let that happen.” gojo cuts you off sternly, hand leaving the dip in your waist in favour of cupping your jaw. his index raises your chin, enforcing eye contact between you both to ensure his certainty. there isn’t a shred of doubt in those cerulean orbs, gaze intensely strong as opposed to your shyer one.

the arm at your hips snake around the perimeter of your lower back to hug you snugly against him. you’re entirely at his disposition— body trapped between the door and his much larger frame towering over you, and you hate the way your chest tightens at the unreadable look on his face.

“ever.” he repeats more firmly, before planting a short kiss onto your lips. you’re taken aback from the intimacy behind the kiss, as if he really were trying to reassure you you had nothing to worry about it. he might’ve been reckless and utterly stupid, but when it mattered, he really could be reliable. “do ya trust me?”

“yes.” you answer honestly, and the grin he offers at your response confirms every shred of doubt you’d had in mind. of course you’d do this— you were as much unprofessional as he was.

“that’s my girl.” you jolt at the firm blow landed on your ass. when your lips fall into an annoyed pout, he’s quick to kiss it away, beaming at you like a child on their way to a candy store. “now go face the mirror f’me— needa apologize for not properly treating you right the last time.”

you’re sure he’s referring to your last encounter in his office when he’d decided to punish you for bad mouthing him by skipping oral, if the way he hiked your dress up to your hips, kneeled on the floor and spread your pussy lips apart said anything. you shiver from the cool air he breathes at your aching cunt, fingers gripping the ceramic sink before you.

“shitttt,” you moan, head lolling forward when you feel his tongue swipe from your clit all the way near your rear end. gojo latches his lips onto yours, and feasts like a starved man. he rotates his tongue into motions he knows will have your knees buckle the way it does, flicks it at your a swollen leaking clit, and fucks it in and out of your clenching hole. “f-fuck, satoru, oh my goddd!”

he groans loudly into your cunt, big hands gripping an asscheek each as he divulges into your core. you’re a slippery mess, and you can’t imagine how soaked his face must be by how sloppy he tugs and nibbles onto your labia, drinking up any fluid you have to offer him. he makes it nearly impossible to keep alert of any upcoming visitors— any time you attempt to regard the door, just a peek over you shoulder, he plunges his canines into the flesh of your ass and spanks at your cunt. it’s as if he wants you to completely trust and rely on his word.

“nah uh princess.” you feel the impact of the coolness of his rings against your warm folds, mixture of saliva and your juices splurting as he spanks you. you feel your thighs trembling as you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull from the pleasurable pain. “you’re offendin’ me over here. focus on me—not that damn door.” if you didn’t know any better, he was definitely pouting with a mouth full of your cunt.

how ridiculous.

“‘m just tryna w-watch out for the doo—ooohh!” his tongue finds its way to your clit and you officially give up. completely surrendering yourself to his disposition, you let your guard down and allow him to ravish you whole.

it’s proven difficult to keep your eyes on yourself as you watch your reflection through low lidded eyes— gloss smeared on your swollen lips as fat tears build at your lower lash line. your neck and chest littered in love bites, areas that are incredibly visible to the public. and under any other circumstance, you would’ve made a big fuss about it, but you simply couldn’t care with gojo’s index and middle finger pumping in and out of your sopping pussy.

you’re irresponsible and foolish, and admittedly shameful as you feel the infamous knot of arousal in your core tightening. your knees feel wobbly, and you’re moans tune into a higher pitch as you claw the marble sink. gojo reads your body language well, his pace steady as he simultaneously finger fucks your cunt while lapping at your bundle of nerves.

you shoot him a look behind your shoulders, the sight of your boss on his knees aiming to please you admittedly quickening the process, “s-satoru, fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum!” you whimper, bottom lip tugged into your teeth. you remove your death claw grip on the sink in favour of carding your fingers through a set of fluffy hair.

he cocks a brow behind snowy locks, cerulean eyes peering at you with sheer intensity. he knows you’re close, could’ve guessed from how tightly you clamped down on his tongue, and he’s aiming to give you the best damn orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life because you deserve it.

it takes one, two, three jabs of his fingers at that spongy spot against your muscles for the dam to break. and it all happens too damn quickly to register—your eyelids beginning to shut close as your cunt squirts onto gojo’s face with the addition of an indifferent suguru geto at the bathroom door—

wait. wait wait wait.

your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as you’re quickly drawn back into reality, “oh shittttt— shit! w-wait, toru, hol’on a second ‘m— he’s right there— fuckin’ hell!”

it’s like he’s doing it to fuck with you, deliberately ignoring your pleas as he swirls his tongue deeper into your high. it takes a forceful grab of your fingers at his scalp to remove him away from your cunt, and even that makes him moan.

his skin is botched red and glistening wet in your arousal, a childish pout resting on his shiny lips. he looks like a child who you’ve confiscated his jar of cookies for overeating, “what’s the rush, princess? y’re kinda killin’ me here, ‘m not done with you just yet.”

“so is she the girl?” geto shuts the door behind him, back resting against the flat surface. he cocks his head to the side and presents his infamous smile— the one you’ve seen briefly in the hallways as you passed by him, on your way out of your boss’ office.

“hmm?” gojo tilts his head to the intruding voice, and when his eyes fall onto his colleague, he lazily shrugs his shoulders, as if his appearance had been the most natural thing. “oh, suguru—what’re you doin’ here?”

“they’ve sent me to come find you both as the closing speech is soon commencing,” geto pushes himself off the door and takes long strides towards you both. “though i did have my suspicions— turns out i was right. satoru, you fuckin’ whore.”

your heart beat wildly against your chest. your mind raced a mile a minute, thoughts in turmoil as you fought between the fear that settled im your gut from being caught by another worker but simultaneously feeling your cunt ache at getting caught by another worker.

“heyyy, that’s fuckin’ rude,” gojo squints his eyes at his friend, a firm hand raising to spank your ass. you jolt from the impact as you squeal, your face heating in embarrassment at the situation. “she isn’t the girl, she’s my girl. there’s a difference and you oughta learn it.”

geto waves a hand around as if to dismiss his complaints. “yeah yeah, sure.” the ravenette stops before you, and for the first time you notice just how much tall he is too. a large frame sitting in an expensive tuxedo towering over your bent form, leaning forward to sit at an eye-level with you.

your lips part, as if to weakly defend yourself from the shameful situation you’ve found yourself in, but before words can escape your throat, you feel his knuckles grazing along the slope of your jawline. the gentle touch begins at your jaw and trails down to your chin, where the pad of his thumb then fondles at the corner of your mouth.

there’s a hypnotic look in his eyes— a seductive gaze stuck in the endless pools of purple as he stares you down. despite still being clothed, you feel naked beneath his gaze, and yet you can’t find yourself looking away, even when he hooks his thumb into your mouth.

“hi beautiful. mind tellin’ me your name?” geto asks, the melody of his voice so honeyed that you can’t help the automatic response you give him. he chuckles, pulling his thumb out of your lips and swiping the wet digit against your bottom lip.

“gorgeous name for a gorgeous beholder,” you’ve heard that line before, most likely from your boss, and if it ever came out corny then, then it certainly didn’t feel corny now. “tell me y/n, has satoru taken care of you properly?”

gojo interrupts, taken aback by the nerve of his friend’s assumption of him. “what— of course i have! who do you take me for?” you can hear the whine through his words, though you were still entirely stuck in a trance by the man before you. “baby, tell ‘im i took good care of ya!”

“mind if i take a look?” geto cocks his head to the side, the tip of his nose grazing yours. blinking, you suddenly realized the proximity of the man before you, warm breath fanning above the dip of your cupid’s bow. “promise i won’t take too long. feel free to say no.”

and rationally speaking, you should’ve said no. you should’ve taken the outing and tell him it was unprofessional and entirely risky since you’d already gotten caught by him, and had it been any other worker, you would’ve surely been black balled for the rest of your career days. and yet, the way his touches felt comforting and safe, fleeting from the back of your neck down to your arms and chest, another around your torso—

oh fuck it. “yeah, g-go ahead.” you nod instead, your mind telling you one thing but your pussy telling you another.

“whaaaaat?! y/n!” gojo complains, but geto’s quick to smile at you, going as far as calling you a ‘good girl’ before quickly shoving gojo out of the way. he crouches down as gojo rises to his full height, one hand holding onto your cheek and spreading it as the other grips onto the back of your thigh.

you suddenly feel very aware of the situation at hand, and lower your head in shame, teeth nibbling onto your bottom lip. you feel like a slut— your pussy casually being inspected by another high figure at your workplace, meanwhile your boss leans against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown on his face.

“not bad satoru.” geto teasingly praises his friend, the grip on your cheek spreading the flesh further apart, as your sticky cunt squelches in result. your lips then follow suit as they spread, and geto abandons the hold on your thigh in favour of swiping his thumb to collect all of your juices, before popping it in his mouth. “mmhm, she’s all wet and sweet too. can’t believe you were holdin’ out on me man. i feel betrayed.”

“ever considered the fact i don’t want to share her with anyone? much less you?” gojo retaliates, pushing himself off the wall to stand beside you. your brows furrow at his words, eyes following his steps before he plants himself at your side.

geto chuckles, an sleek eyebrow raising up, “oh?”

gojo ignores his friend in favour of directing his attention towards you, pushing your hair away from your face and behind your ear. you blink at him through thick lashes, tilting your head into the warmth of his palm at your cheek, “if you don’t want this at any time, just lemme know and i’ll kick his ass, yeah?”

“wait.” you hold onto the wrist near your face, and his blue eyes follow the point of contact before returning to your eyes. you suddenly feel bashful as he stares at you as if you were the only girl in the world. “wanna suck you off too. . . y’know, as a payment for earlier.”

“yeah?” his smirk returns to his face, fiddling with a piece of your hair between his fingers. you roll your eyes despite the smile that crept at your own lips. “i dunno sweets, it’s startin’ to sound like you’re in love with me or somethin’.”

“not even in your wildest dreams, satoru.” you scoff, grabbing the hand that played with your hair to rest it above the mounds of your chest. the fleeting touch of his fingers against your perky buds through the thin material of your dress has you humming in pleasure. you watch as his eyes light up like a child on christmas day, the smirk on his lips stretched even wider as he cups onto your sensitive flesh.

gojo pushes the material of your dress aside to free your tits, watching the recoil as your bud comes to contact with cooler air and instantly stiffens. “oh come on—you can admit it princess, y’know i won’t hold it against you.”

you lick your lips, “give me a break toru— hngh, fuck!”

“oops, my hand slipped.” geto comments, running his fingers up and down the entrance of your folds. you can tell by the sound of his voice that it was definitely not an accident, as he dips his fingers in and out of your cunt, drawing out moans from you.

you fail to see how gojo frowns, a bitter look on his face as his best friend snatches your attention away from him. it’s soon replaced by admiration when your face contorts into that beautiful look you make whenever you’re completely over washed with pleasure— and even if it isn’t him offering you that euphoric feeling, he feels his cock twitch in his slacks regardless.

“toruuuu,” you call out his name, your gaze unfocused as you stare him up with doe eyes. you watch as he gulps, completely enamoured by you. “whip it out already, need it in my mouth.”

you giggle as he wastes no time, fumbling with the belt at his slacks before dropping them to his knees. he pulls out his cock from his dampened briefs, dick standing tall in arousal. veins decorated the sensitive skin all over, his mushroom tip a raging red as it dribbled pre cum. you could feel your mouth salivate at the look of his dick alone, balls hanging heavily full of cum.

he tightens his fist around the perimeter of his cock, dragging it down from the base all the way up to his tip, a guttural moan heaving from deep in his chest. he’s taunting you, and you shamefully feel your cunt dampen at his wanton sounds, “ngh, you ready baby?”

from behind you, you hear geto’s slacks also fall down to his ankles as he pumps his own hardness right against the cleft of your reddened cheek. he taps the tip of his dick against your soft flesh, watching the recoil of your ass bouncing on his cock, panting heavily as his words come out breathily, “you—shit, good to go, y/n?”

you nod eagerly, legs spreading for stability as you bend your upper body forward. your hands grip around the firm muscle of gojo’s thighs, and your nose nuzzles in the bush of snowy pubes, his musk clouding over your senses in a familiar way. your tongue lolls out as it rolls over the sensitive skin of his ballsack and sucks, and gojo whines, hand immediately flying to the back of your head to grip at your hair tightly.

you can feel the tip of geto’s dick pushing past your first ring of muscle, and you attempt to relax the muscles of your body at the intense intrusion of his penetration. he’s fucking girthy— much thicker than gojo, though not as lengthier. he’s stretching you out in ways that has your limbs liquify in heat, fingernails clawing deeper into gojo’s pale skin.

“fuck, shit, you gotta loosen up f’me baby— you’re too tight,” geto grunts, hands gripping tightly at your waist as he lurches forward. your stomach tightens in lust as your thighs tremble, the intrusion of his cock balls deep in your cunt melting your brain. he’d just bottom out, and you already felt on cloud nine.

“feel s’good, ngh fuckkk—mmph!” your mouth is suddenly full, the familiar taste of saltiness resting on the pallets of your tongue. you hear gojo above you moan pathetically, hips already rutting desperately into the warmth cave of your mouth.

you’ve sucked him off plenty before and so you know just how he likes it— sloppy and tight. you hollow your cheeks and stay mindful of your teeth, as you relax your throat muscles and let him work his magic.

“there’s my good girl, fuck yeah— y’know jus’ how i love it, dontcha?” gojo smiles down at you, thumb grazing at the dent in your cheek. he drags his thumb over the outline of his cock against your face, “what a fuckin’ beauty, shit, keep doin’ great for me, hnghhh, ‘m gonna bust soon.”

“already?” geto teases, thrusts languid as they match the pace of his friend’s. his hips meet the curve of your ass in hypnotic bounces as your ass ripples off his pelvis, and gojo’s quick to roll his eyes.

“fuck you,” it’s meant to come off as an insult but when you take him even further down, a gag tightening around the length of his cock, it trails off into a desperate moan.

“no thanks, ‘ve got your pretty little secretary here.” geto hisses when your pussy clamps down on his cock. he feels sweat begin to collect at his hairline, and focuses on the grip of your folds latching at his dick desperately.

you feel a firm blow at your ass cheeks, your muffled whines echoing in the room at the stinging pleasure. you attempt to run away from the impaling dick in your stomach, but you feel geto’s hands grab at your hips, stabilizing your limp body before a hand rises up and pushes your back into a curve.

“and where do you think y’re goin’?” geto tuts, hips angling at a new position, one that draws a broken mewl from your sore throat. every moan resonates against the dick stuffed in your mouth, and the sounds travel from gojo’s tip all the way to his stomach, as he feels his balls tighten.

“oh god baby, y’can’t do that to me!” gojo mewls, matted locks glued to his forehead from excessive sweat. you feel his droplets trickle down to your forehead, dribbling down your face and combining in the mixture of fluids leaking from your lips.

you feel his dick twitching in your mouth, a telltale that he’s bound to bust his load in no time. you release a hold from his thigh to cup at his balls, gently fondling with the sack as you bob your head forward to match his pace. saliva pools from the corner of your mouth and dribbles down your chin to the floor.

geto leans forward, chest pressed against the arch of your back. his breath is warm and tickles at the column of your hickey-littered neck, and the stretch of his girthy cock spreading the tight muscles of your rim has your stomach knotting in foreign pleasure.

his hand creeps in between your thighs, fingers toying with your aching clit as his lips graze at the shell of your ear, “love havin’ this clit of yours played with?” he purrs in your ear, lips ghosting over the goosebumps of your skin, and despite being gagged, you nod your head frantically in response. he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside your cunt, grinding his hips and rubbing his cock into areas you had yet to explore. “such a good slut f’me, ain’t that right?”

“for me– ngh, me too!” gojo argues childishly, quivery pink lips falling into a pout. he runs the pad of his thumb against your cheek, hooking his fingertip at the corner of your lips, thus painfully widening the hole of your mouth.

tears quickly build up at your lash line, vision blurring when you feel geto pull back up, landing blow after blow on the planes of your ass. the harsh impacts and rough thrusts has your backside ricochetting against his pelvis, your pussy clenching uncontrollably. the sensation was one that left you speechless– besides gojo’s lengthy cock occupying your throat. it was most definitely an uncomfortable stretch, but every now and then, when you’d feel the coolness of geto’s rings trailing down your inner thighs and the pad of his fingers soothing the ache at your clit, it easily subsided into pleasure.

“shitttt, just wan’ stay in your mouth forever,” gojo whines loudly, head thrown back with his brows cinched. he’s completely forgotten about your own comfort, fucking into your mouth for the sake of his own pleasure. you watch as his abs contract, chest heaving deeply, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

another gag rips out of your mouth when gojo abruptly plows into your mouth, your nose all the way to his snowy white pubic hairs. he moans all prettily, hand clutching tightly at your hair at the back of your head, before pulling away and repeating the same motions, “hell yeah baby– just like that, fuck.”

with tears now streaking down your cheeks, your mouth salivates uncontrollably as you clamp down on suguru’s cock, balls heavy with cum as they slap against your clit.

“shit—fuck, hold on,” geto hisses, thrown off by gojo’s sudden pace. purple orbs trail at the curve of your back all the way up to your bobbing head, when he’s hit with an idea. you fail to see it, but the smirk he shoots at his best friend is enough to telltale. you can only realise they’re up to no good too late, when gojo mirrors the smirk before him.

“match my rhythm and watch how quick she’ll cum.”

and embarrassingly enough, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten when you’re pounded into roughly from behind. their pace now much quicker and rougher, your broken moans turn into gargles around gojo’s shaft, and in an attempt to run away from the overwhelmingly thrusts stretching at your pussy, you instinctively move forward, only to choke around a twitching dick. you then realise their plan, when you try to pull away from the mushroom tip stroking at your uvula and wind up back into geto’s possession, balls deep in your cunt.

well shit.

they treat your body as if it were a fleshlight– a mere toy for their own pleasure, and you couldn’t deny the objectification of your body at their dispense had your body tense in straight arousal. the bulge in your throat and musky scent of gojo’s bush overwhelming your senses, and the thickness of geto’s shaft tearing your hole apart had you coming undone quicker than you’d like to admit.

“oh yeahhh,” geto whistles, never letting up his pounding as you leak through your pussy like a faucet. “look at that pussy go– clenchin’ down on me like a whore. y’fuckin’ love it when we slut you out like this, hm? our very own cumdump– shit, gonna fill you up nice ‘n good.”

“that’s my pretty baby— mmhm, swallow every last drop, mkay?” you feel your mouth being filled with warm spurts of cum, thick ropes shooting down your throat as gojo groans. “s’good for princesses like you, fuckkk, better open wide.”

✧.*

“i’m. . . gonna get goin’ now. you two stay back.” you tug at your dress, fixing your appearance with a nod before exiting the bathroom.

the two friends are left in the space as they run water against the heat of the skin, cleaning up any trace of mess they’ve left behind. the silence is incredibly loud, despite the faucet leaking water into the sink.

“she’s cute. i see why you like her.” geto comments, rolling his sleeves up before pumping his hands full of soap. he clicks his tongue against his teeth, “definitely piques interest.”

“suguru.” gojo deadpans, staring him down through the reflection of the mirror. geto looks up and returns the stare, though the crease of his cheeks through his smile sets gojo off wrongly. he can tell what his friend is thinking, and he doesn’t want to play this game— not with you.

“don’t. . . please. just don’t.” gojo breathes out, chest rising up and down. he doesn’t realize his fists are balled tight, nor that there’s a frown on his face. “she’s different, and i really like her. if you consider yourself my friend, you won’t.”

geto eyes him through slanted eyes, washing off the suds of soap on his palms before turning off the tap. every second passes by agonizingly slow for gojo as he watches his friend move. his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his chest uncharacteristically tight.

he walks to the paper towel dispenser, before drying his hands and shoving the paper down the garbage. gojo’s eyes trail his every move yet again.

finally, purple eyes meet his and they curve into that infamous smile— one that could send chills down your spine if not on his good side.

“yeah, i got you.”

thank you @nantoji for beta reading 🙂‍↕️.

[propertyofwicked]

YOU OWE ME - LN

warnings: none, just fluff (inspired by that one CL stream). this is so short pls forgive me

(also, anyone else seen the pics of lando in aus? FERAL for that man.)

“tier 1 sub - max can you tell lando to get off his computer and let me in the flat please im freezing” max reads out, bursting into laughter, “youre in trouble mate.”

max hears a travelling shout of swearing, getting quieter as lando’s headset is thrown to the desk and his entire body hurtling towards the front door.

“shit shit shit shit,” lando shouts, his fingers struggling with the keys left on the inside of the door. finally he manages to unlock the door and pull it open to see his girlfriend, rosy cheeked and a less than impressed expression.

“lando, how many times have i said to take the keys out of the door if you lock it and im not home - especially if youre not going to answer your phone.”

“im sorry baby, im sorry i know - i forgot,” he mumbles, his hands taking yours and bringing them to his face. he flinches slightly at the sheer coldness of your fingers, “do you want a drink? hot chocolate? tea? coffee? it’ll warm you up”

“i’d love a cup of tea,” you smile sadly, shrugging your horribly thin jacket off. honestly, with the typical english winter, your jacket was almost useless in combatting the cold winds anyways. you move to follow lando into the kitchen, watching him fill the kettle and move to grab a mug from the cupboard.

“come here,” you say, opening your arms slightly for lando to move into. he moves to you instantly.

“you’re not angry at me?”

“no, i am. youre just warm” you say, looking up to smile at him. his hands fall to your waist, gripping your hips and hoisting you up to sit on the counter, but he doesn’t move back into your embrace. instead, his arms move to take his hoodie off himself, and pull it over your head.

“better?”

“slightly,” you're still smiling at him as you adjust the hoodie - lando can tell you're not angry at him, just slightly irritated.

“the heating’s on, my office is warm - you wanna go sit in there whilst i finish your tea, angel?” he asks, his hand stroking your cheek, “max is on call if you wanna talk to him for a bit? he’s streaming but you already know that,” he grins, his tongue sticking into the side of his cheek.

“i think max’s chat deserve to know how bad of a boyfriend you are,” you joke, hoisting yourself off the counter, ready to march on in and complain to the stream. lando’s hand catches your arm, spinning you back into his chest. his hand comes back to your cheek, and tilts your head back.

“im sorry baby, you know i am,” he frowns slightly - you reassure him that he is forgiven by pressing a small kiss to his lips. once again you go to move, but he pulls you back in, kissing you again - repeatedly pecking kisses all over your face and eventually your lips. his tongue swipes your bottom lip, begging for more. you pull your head back slightly, desperate to go and rat him out to max but his teeth nip down on your bottom lip again to prolong the connection.

“i don’t think so, lan,” you giggle, smiling up at him again. lando groans and swears you almost skip your way to his office, excited to tell max as he prepares for a night of grovelling.

“max. you’ll never believe this man,” you sigh, after popping lando’s headset on your own head.

“y/n! how are you?”

“freezing, max. and £10 poorer now i’ve had to sub to your twitch to be let into my own flat.”

“oh yeah, thanks for the sub,” max laughs out, looking at the chat, “it’s ok, chat reckon you should invoice lando for the inconvenience.”

“i think i might have to you know, although he’s making me a cup of tea right now and i might be able to pout my way into a takeaway tonight.”

“y/n that man is so whipped i don’t think you need to pout your way into him doing anything for you,” he responds, his emphasis on anything making you grin slightly.

minutes later, lando comes into the room, using his foot to kick the door open in front of him, his hands full with your mug and your lip balm. hang on, lip balm?

“here you go baby,” he says, placing the mug down on the coaster on his desk, “i put honey in it for your throat, and i brought your lip balm ‘cos your lips are dry,” he grins as he hands you the lip balm.

“my lips wouldn’t be dry if you’d answered the phone the first time i rang you,” you say, the eye roll evident in your voice, even to max who couldn’t see your face.

“hang on, y/n, how does he know your lips are dry?” max interrupts, his laugh travelling through the headset.

“because max, when two people love each other very muc-”

“ew stop it,” lando interjects, as he sets up a second set of headphones to join in the chat.

“he’s trying to regain my love with physical affection.”

“i can tell from your tone that it’s not working.”

“well, after that ‘ew’ i think i may have to revoke all physical affection.”

“you wouldn’t,” lando gasps, his hands dramatically clutching his chest.

“order dominoes and ill reconsider. you owe me.”

“yeah lando, and send her £10 to cover the cost of the twitch sub,” max shouts, siding with you, “chat also think you should, as a courtesy.”

you don’t say anything, but turn to look at him, puppy dog eyes and a pout to complete the look.

“fine! fine,” he laughs again, holding his hands up in surrender, “i was going to offer anyways.”

“sure you were,” you and max manage to say simultaneously.

-

an hour later, your food had arrived and your saying goodbye to max and his chat, as lando goes to the door. however, by the time you shuffle into the living room, lando has began setting up netflix, sat next to a mound of blankets he’d brought in from your bedroom.

“hey you, come ‘ere,” he says, leaning his back against the arm of the sofa and tapping the space between his legs. once you were settled, your back resting on his chest, he leans to grab the pizza box on the coffee table in front of you - it went down quickly.

“funny how hungry you get when you’re left shivering in the freezing cold for hours," you think out loud.

“it wasn’t hours and i didn’t do it on purpose y/n,” lando whines, scoffing slightly at the time embellishment, absentmindedly playing with your fingers as he did.

“i know baby, i’m sorry. you’re forgiven,” you start to feel bad for him. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before manoeuvring you both further down the sofa until he’s laying completely flat, and you roll over so that your head can lay on his chest. the two of you lay in silence for a few moments, the tv still playing quietly in the background, and you feel his chest moving with every breath.

lando's hands wander underneath his your hoodie, and begin to trace small shapes on your skin, making you shiver slightly. then, a thought hits you.

“someone needs to make a compilation of F1 drivers accidentally locking their girlfriends out because they’re streaming,” he laughs as you say it, your whole body shaking from the shuddering of his laughing, "it seems to happen more than you'd think."

“hey! i wasn’t streaming - max was, i was just there. AND! i paid you back, charles never paid his girlfriend back for the sub.”

“oh, aren’t you generous.”

[euaphora]

she got a tattoo right by her bikini that say “eat me!” | ft. Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru

warnings: smut, threesome, face- fucking, oral sex, size kink, voyeurisum, jealousy issues, breeding kink, dom!pervy!gojo, sub!bratty!reader, dom!pervy!geto, cum eating.

Gojo and Geto were your college dorm roommates who loved tag teaming on you since the day you got there, always making fun of you by hiding stuff under the couch, already, so you would bend over with your ass up, giving them a perfect view of your pink lace panties.

“Not funny guys, I need these bottles for my skincare…” you said, already pissed off after having to find them under the couch. You would be on all fours—your hand trying to reach for mini bottles under the couch— both hovering over you, watching you fall for their trap.

They loved making fun of your height, you were always the monkey in the middle when they would throw around your lingerie. “Give it back already, guys!” you plead, running back and forth in-between them. All they did was laugh at you, teasing you. “You gonna show this off to your new boyfriend?”

When they would bring over girls, they always made sure you can hear every single sound they would make, the feminine moans slipping out of her mouth made your blood boil a little bit. Why were they being so loud, god?

The mornings after never phased you anymore, getting so used to different girls coming over. “Sleep good, sweetheart?” Gojo asks, coming up from behind you while grabbing a cup from the cabinet in front of you both, making you slightly feel his bulge.

“No, could you please a little quiet..next time?” You say, moaning at the feeling from his now hard member in his pants, ready to be let out and inside you already. “What was that?” Geto interrupts you both, you look over your other shoulder, seeing him lean against the counter with a mug in his hand.

“Yeah, ‘seemed like you were having trouble there.” Gojo laughs out and smiles, towering over you when you turn around. “I wouldn’t have had any trouble if you weren’t trying to get off with my ass..” you clap back, making them look at each other then back to you.

“Don’t be talking to me like that, princess. I get that your a little mad but-”

“You can’t keep being these girls over and expect for me to be okay, I live here too!” You explain, frustration taking over. He puts his hands out to try and reason things out but your pull away, “don’t fucking touch me, Satoru!”

“Get on your knees.” Gojo says while slipping his cock out of his briefs while maintaining eye contact.

“W-what?! I’m not gonna do whatever you ask your other hoes to-” you get cut off while he roughly pushes you onto your knees and shoved his cock inside your mouth, “You wanna talk now, mmhm?” He laughs out, watching tears slip out of your eyes and chin covered with his pre-cum.

“Too big for you, baby?” He told you, watching you take him all in your mouth, “pretty little slut with a big mouth..”

You feel his hips stuttering, feeling ropes of his white seed pop into your mouth while the rest falls off onto your breast. You get up and walk towards Geto, who already has his own already out, pumping his fist.

You lean your hands against the counter, wiggling your ass as a hint for him to invite himself inside, making him give you a smile.

He starts off slow, eventually ramming his dick inside after the first few thrust—making you let out a loud moan—quickly covering your mouth with his two hands while he keeps going, you arch your back so he can get a deeper angle inside you.

“Does that feel good enough for you to shut up?” Geto questions, removing one of his hands from your face to lift your leg to reach your g-spot. You nod your head and look over to Gojo, who was smiling the entire time.

“So much attitude just to be thrown out once we give attention, such a jealous baby…” He says while watching you fuck yourself onto Geto. You couldn’t hold it any longer, “s-shit! I’m gonna come!”

“Let go for me, baby…” he whispers into your ear while putting some of your hair that got in the way being your ear, rocking his hips deeper into you. You feel a tight knot on your stomach, melting into his touch and pulling him in for a kiss.

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: drinking, Gojo's overbearing

gn reader

Thinking about a pushy Gojo who incessantly flirts with his shy underclassmen.

He thinks your reluctance is the most adorable thing ever – never respecting when you cutely shake your head no, ignoring the hand you put on his chest to keep him at a distance when his lips seek out yours at every turn. 

Whining his name, “Gojo-Senpai~ stop~” all meekly while hiding your face from his searing blue leer when he slinks his arms around your smaller body, tugging you tightly to him – brazenly telling all the other underclassmen that “This Kohai belongs to me~”

He thinks he can lure you into giving him a kiss after a couple of drinks. And you’ve been playing drinking game after drinking game in his dorm room for the past three hours, and everyone was relatively wasted by the time Gojo suggested they switch to truth or dare – sitting with the card up his sleeve during the entire game while waiting his turn.

You silly little Kohai~ biting off a little more than you can chew, choosing dare – only to blanch when he tapped his lips and told you to come closer and give him tongue. 

You refused, of course, hands thrown up in a protective x in front of you – wide eyes hoping everyone would tell him he was crossing a line – but between Suguru having been made to wear Gojo’s blindfold while slurping a body shot out of Shoko’s belly button, who had been made to forfeit her bra over to a poor Nanami, who sat there in the pretty B-cup – everyone but Haibara, who gave you a sympathetic smile, agreed that it was high time you did something you didn’t want to do too.

“Either you kiss me for a whole minute or sit on my lap the rest of the game.”

It wasn’t really like you could say no either – someone had the idea that you all make a binding vow to make things more interesting.

“Here-” Shoko handed you the remaining spirits of the two-liter bottle the six of you had passed around all night – and you grimaced with a sigh, knowing there was no getting out of it. 

Swigging the last two gulps, you crawled over to the white-haired upperclassmen.

But as he leaned forward to finally catch your pretty drunken pout with his own puckered lips, you turned around.

“What are you doing?” He shook his head incredulously – like a baffled cartoon character.

You smacked your lips, saying, “I’m not giving you my first kiss.”  while shimmying back to plant yourself on his lap.

Nanami sighed, shaking his head at you. “Only you would think sitting on his lap is any better…”

Your brows furled. “What does that mean?”

But before you could get your answer, Gojo was slinking his arms around your front and nuzzling his chin into your neck. “It means you’re the cutest~” He murmured against your ear – pulling you snugly against his chest. His nose nudged itself against your hairline. “And you smell so good~”

“Ew, Gojo-Senpai – don’t smell me.” You cringe, but he just squeezes you tighter.

Pouting, “You’re so mean~” with his wet lips ghosting your throat. “Kohai are supposed to respect their seniors...”

The room rolls its eyes, and Nanami blanks a stare – even when sitting in Shoko's black bralette, he still holds higher ground than the shameless senior. “Not much about you calls for respect, senpai.”

[buckyalpine]

Mob Bucky likes his innocent date ft smut

Sigh. I wanted this to be wholesome but it’s horny instead I’m sorry. Might delete tbh. Imagine devilishly gorgeous mob Bucky getting joy out of making his shy date flustered til she’s tripping on her words and unable to speak. He got Steve to find him a date for an event in the evening, uninterested in having to actually find one for himself. He just wants a pretty thing on his arm that he could maybe fuck at the end of the night. Between busy schedules and mob work, Steve doesn’t find anyone so he scrambles to the last person he can think of.

His sisters best friend.

You’re not at all what he was expecting.

He walks down the long staircase in his all black suit, beard trimmed, his cologne intoxicating, coking an eyebrow when he sees the shy thing waiting for him that he’s supposed to go with.

You nearly squeak when he stands before you, too nervous to say anything, your heart running a million miles a minute, knowing exactly who the very James Barnes was. You had no business being here, you were doing this for Steve.

“Hi” you whisper, and Bucky can’t help but smirk at the way you keep tugging at your dress, not meeting his eyes, tipping your chin up to meet his wolfish expression.

“You must be Y/n” he doesn’t let go of your face, noting the goosebumps that now cover your exposed skin from your plunging dress. He doesn’t say much else, letting you squirm, quite enjoying himself.

You want to tell him he looks good, be the confident woman he probably expected to have, exuding grace and poise but you bite your lip instead, nearly whining when he lets go of your chin.

“Y-you um. You look b-beautiful” you finally stutter out, your face burning under his amused gaze.

“Is that so Bambi?” He smirks, cocking his head while you fidget with your fingers. “Hmmm. No one’s called me that before” he chuckles, taking your arm in his and leading you to the limo parked outside.

Your skin is so soft, you smell so sweet and for the first time ever, he doesn’t want to ravage his date to bits. Not when you’re such a soft precious thing.

The night goes well as you grow more and more comfortable with him. He dotes on you the entire time, not letting you lift a finger. He can’t help but take care of you, not letting anyone else near his precious little Bambi.

By the end, he wants to take you home safely like a gentleman but he wants more. And he knows you do too. He can see it in the way you look at him with such longing, nuzzling into his side further and further in the back of the limo.

You’re practically on his lap now, desperately wishing he’d just have his way with you without toy having to say anything but he’d never let that happen.

“What is it Bambi” he whisperers when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding you face in his neck. Your hand trails from his tie to his belt buckle, too embarrassed to go any lower.

“Oh you poor thing” he coos, bringing and pressing your hand on top of his erection, your shaky hands rubbing his bulge like a needy kitten, “do you want my cock baby, s’that it? My Bambi needs her cock?”

“Mhm” you whine, clinging onto him when the limo pulls up to his house, his thick arms wrapping you up and taking you right to his room with no second guesses.

When he gets you into bed, all his animalistic tendencies go out the window, holding back how badly he wants to pounce on you and ravish you like the cute little bunny you are, trapped in the wolfs den. Your gown has been thrown off, lingerie ripped to bits, laying on his bed as he crawls on top of you, his thick, leaky cock bobbing between his legs.

“Are you sure you want this Angel” he checks in with you first, cupping your cheek and swiping his thumb across your pouty lip.

“W-want you” you whisper, shakily reaching down to grasp his cock, swallowing nervously. “I just- I don’t-“

“You don’t have to be scared bunny” he kisses your cheek, placing his hand on top of yours, guiding your strokes. “I’ll teach you how to play with my cock baby”

You tighten your grip, tugging him to where you need him most and he can’t hold back much longer, he’s trying to hard but you makes it impossible.

“Fuck Bambi” he groaned feeling his tip run against your soaked cunt, holding back frok shoving himself in you “keep doing that and I’ll lose control baby”

“Lose control Bucky” you tug at him again and he shakes his head with a strained chuckle.

“I’ll hurt you bunny” he said warns again but you need him to take you apart till you cant walk.

“Please?”

“Bunny…” he warns one last time but you want anymore.

“Daddy” you whine in his ear and something inside him snaps. He doesn’t give you any warning, slamming his cock into you with one stroke, your pleasured cry music to his ears.

“What did you just call me?!” He pulls out to flip you over, spanking your ass while his balls slap your clit, loving the way you go dumb over his cock.

“Such an innocent little baby with a filthy mouth, huh doll, my bunny wants her daddy’s cock”

He grips onto the headboard, delivering powerful snaps with his hips, alternating between pounding you against the pillows and grinding his cock in you without pulling out.

“Such a tight pussy squeezing daddy’s cock, my naughty little bunny, you want daddy’s cream too baby? You want daddy to give you his fresh cum, hm? Breed this needy little pussy?”

“B-breed me daddy!!” You squeal, his words driving you towards your climax, crying into his sheets and arching your back more as his movements grow sloppy.

“Get ready for daddy’s cum baby- gonna breed this pretty pussy till your fuckin’ round n’swollen n’leaking with milk” he gritted out, grabbing your hips with slam back and meet his thrusts. “Together Bambi, cum with daddy, c’mon, be a good girl n’cum with daddy”

The most salacious and primal sounds fill the room as he pumps ropes of his cum into toy, your greedy pussy milking him for all he’s worth. He can’t believe such a quiet little bunny could turn out to be a minx on the inside but he’s never letting you go.

“You’re dangerous Bambi” he whispers, keeping his softening cock in you, having never felt so satisfied afterwards, practically floating in the clouds with you. “M’never pulling my cock out, you feel too good around my dick baby”

You giggle as he kisses your glistening skin, gathering your into his arms, your eyes growing wide when he doesn’t kick you out of his bed.

“You’re mine now Bambi” he says with a soft growl, holding you closer to his chest before pulling the sheets over you both.

Anyway. Wholesome version coming later.

[gilbertscurls]

Kiss It Better ➵ Chris Sturniolo

You laughed as Chris tossed a handful of popcorn at you, aiming for your face but hitting your shoulder instead. You’ve been watching a movie in his living room, but neither of you had been paying much attention. Chris had been cracking jokes every few minutes, making you laugh so hard you could barely focus on the screen.

“Your aim is terrible,” you teased, throwing a piece of popcorn back at him.

Chris smirked, lounging back against the couch with his arm thrown lazily over the backrest. “You think you can do better?”

You grinned, popping another piece of popcorn into your mouth as you rolled your eyes. “Please, I’m way more skilled.”

Chris leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

You took the challenge, grabbing another handful and launching it at him. Most of it missed, but a few pieces landed in his lap. “See? Skilled.”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Impressive.”

As you went to grab another piece for yourself, you felt a sharp pinch of pain. “Ow!” you yelped, your hand flying to your mouth. You pulled your fingers back and winced. “I bit my lip.”

Chris’s teasing expression softened with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It just stings a little.” You pouted dramatically, looking up at him with wide, playful eyes. “Kiss it to make it better?”

Chris’s eyebrows shot up, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “Oh, you want me to kiss it better?”

You flushed a little but didn’t back down, meeting his gaze with a smirk of your own. “You heard me.”

For a second, it seemed like the room got quieter, the playful tension between you shifting into something else. Chris shifted closer on the couch, his eyes flickering to your lips and back to your eyes. “Well, if that’s what you want,” he said softly, his voice suddenly more serious.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you swallowed nervously. The teasing atmosphere between you had changed in an instant, and now there was something electric in the air. “I mean… Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Chris leaned in slowly, his face inches from yours. He hesitated for a moment, searching your eyes for any sign of uncertainty. When he didn’t find any, he closed the gap between you, brushing his lips softly against the spot where you’d bitten yourself.

The touch was gentle, tender, but it sent a jolt through your entire body. You hadn’t expected it to feel like this—like every nerve in your body was suddenly aware of him in a way it hadn’t been before. When he pulled back, his eyes lingered on yours, and the playful smirk from earlier was replaced with something more intense.

“Better?” Chris asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Yeah… Better,” you replied, your voice shaky.

Neither of you moved for a long moment. It was like you were both processing what had just happened, the shift in the dynamic between you. Chris’s gaze dropped to your lips again, and before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned in and kissed you for real this time.

The kiss was soft at first, testing the waters, but when you responded—kissing him back with the same intensity—it deepened. His hand came up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as your playful banter melted away, replaced by something much more real.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other’s.

“So… Popcorn and a kiss. Not a bad night,” Chris joked, though his voice was still thick with emotion.

You laughed softly, your heart still racing. “Not bad at all.”

You stayed close, the movie forgotten, and as you sat there in the quiet of the living room, you realized that maybe this was something you’d been waiting for all along. Something that had been building between you for a while, hidden beneath their easy banter and friendship.

“Guess I should bite my lip more often,” you teased, a grin tugging at your lips.

Chris laughed, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “You won’t have to. I’ll kiss you anyway.”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

[yawnderu]

MORE!! NEET!READER!! I’m obsessed with this it’s so silly and cute <33 I love your writing I can scroll through your page for hours 🍒

“Y'wanna what?” Simon almost chokes on his water at the request, looking down at you with raised eyebrows. He's always been an expressive man, even more so underneath the heavy layers of his balaclava— even more so with his best friend.

“Wank you.” You repeat quietly, slightly nervous hands fidgeting with the edge of your notebook while your head rests on Simon's meaty thigh, shamelessly resting on your knees in front of him the same way you used to do when you were much younger.

Simon's fingers drum against the plastic of his water bottle, eyes narrowing slightly as he tries his best not to laugh at the blunt request, not a single social cue in that little head of yours.

“An' what do I get in return?” Your scrunched up face makes it almost impossible to hold back his laugh, forcing Simon to take a deep breath before his rough, calloused hand goes to caress the length of your hair, subtly pulling you in closer.

“Well, you get wanked...” Simon's hand drifts down to your face, gently cupping your cheek and forcing you to make eye contact, your fingers running along the length of the notebook in your hands as you look up at him expectantly.

Simon's stare isn't half as intimidating when you know how much of a cry baby he used to be as a kid. The corners of your lips tilt up into a small smile as you think about a much younger and innocent version of him— only for the bastard to take the chance to sneak two of his fingers into your mouth, making you recoil back out of pure instinct.

“Tosser.” You try to slap his hand away only for him to grab your wrist out of reflex, shooting a cheeky smirk your way when you look up at him with disbelief. For someone as big as Simon, he's surprisingly gentle, giving you time to protest as he makes your hand run up his thigh, slowly inching towards his already hard cock.

“Go on, then. Give me a proper wank.” Seeing how you don't pull away, Simon wastes no time on lowering the band of his sweatpants, hooking it under his balls to keep in place. You scramble for the notepad on your lap with your free hand, finding a blank page to write about his body's reactions, much to his amusement. Simon doesn't mind being used as an experiment— not when his best friend keeps making him cum.

Your soft hand wraps around his length, feeling it throb beneath your palm as you take notes with your free hand. Simon's dick is as pretty as they come; 21 centimeters of thick meat, green veins running along the shaft, the head of it always seeming to be leaking like a pathetic, broken faucet.

Simon groans the moment your hand starts to move up and down agonizingly slow, a small grin pulling at the corners of your lips the moment his legs part, giving you more room to do whatever you want to him. Your hand goes up to the tip of his cock, rubbing it with your fingers and palm, gathering the precum leaking down only to use it as lube to be able to jerk him off better.

“Fuck.” Simon's head is thrown back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down the moment your now sticky hand goes back to his shaft, muffled deep grunts and moans leaving his lips. Discipline, precision, and control are what Simon built his entire life on, all broken down by you the moment he can feel your warm breath hitting his cock, your flat tongue licking his tip with curiosity that, if it wasn't for how pent-up Simon is, he wouldn't have minded.

Simon's hand joins yours, guiding the rhythm of the handjob to something he needs— hard and fast, your soft digits caressing the thickening veins every once in a while until he can't take it anymore. Without a warning, Simon shoots ropes of thick, hot cum all over your face and tongue, making you let out a surprised yelp at the sensation and taste, already busy taking new notes as you absentmindedly make him ride off his orgasm, feeling new ropes of more watery cum fill your mouth and overwhelm your senses.

Half-lidded brown eyes focus on what you're writing, resisting the urge to roll his eyes despite his intense orgasm, his hand now softly caressing your cheek, making sure to spread his warm cum all over your cheek.

Slightly salty and too thick, doesn't taste that bad.

[captain-hawks]

osamu miya x f!reader

“my mom asked me to return thi—” you cut yourself off abruptly as you’re met with the sudden, unexpected surprise of a familiar pair of gray eyes when the front door of the miya residence swings open. 

gray eyes that certainly don’t belong to the woman you intended to return the pie pan currently clutched in your hands to.

“osamu?” your voice comes out small, uncertain, a little fragile around the edges.

the corner of his mouth curves upward in a smile as he leans against the doorframe. “long time no see.”

–

the porch swing out back is as welcoming as it ever was, though the real estate to be found across its faded yellow cushions has waned as the two of you have grown. it was enormous to two seven-year-olds who spent long summer evenings on their backs across it, shoulder to shoulder with their little feet kicked up along the arm rests in opposite directions as they gazed up into the sky beyond the porch watching the fireflies come to life.

you can only imagine how ridiculous the two of you look now, heads parallel instead for lack of space and your legs thrown entirely over either edge at the knee, the swing shuddering with a precarious creak with each of your frequent outbursts of laughter.

for all that’s changed in the years since you graduated from inarizaki high and packed your bags—the new general store in town, your dad’s fancy electric car, the bright color of the shutters that adorn the front of the miya household, the dark shade of osamu’s hair, his muscles that have since generously filled out—

for all that’s changed, this still feels wholly the same: this easy rhythm the two of you slip into, the way it feels as natural as breathing to tell osamu everything—all the good and the bad and the wonderful and the terribly shitty things in your life that have happened between now and then.

(then, when you were eighteen standing outside of your mom’s old sedan on a sticky july morning, the trunk packed full with everything you held dear. everything but the gray-haired boy standing in front of you hugging you tightly goodbye.)

(then, when quietly realizing that you were in love with your best friend was the most terrifying feeling in the world.)

(now, with four years of university, two wasted years at a soulless corporate job, and the aftermath of a terrible relationship kicking up dust in the rearview.)

(now, when you know that for all the miles and the minutes, all this endless space that you’ve created—your heart will always be the steady pulse of a firefly cupped in osamu’s hands.)

–

it’s late beneath the glow of moonlight that pours across the porch when you finally ask, “how’s your girlfriend?”

osamu laughs, and you feel warm despite the cool night air that’s begun to nip at your bare legs. “don’t have one. tsumu’s probably got enough of ‘em for the both of us.”

it’s embarrassing, the thread of hope that slips between the careful grip of your fingers and begins to unspool in the defenseless gaps of your ribcage. “you mean to tell me there’s no mistress of onigiri miya? i find that hard to believe.”

he snorts this time, and a frog croaks somewhere off in the distance. “be nice, maybe i’ve got a broken heart over here.”

you shouldn’t be jealous, and yet—

“someone let you go? what was she thinking?”

osamu sighs, wistful. “never had her.”

your heart thumps as you turn your head, expecting to be met with osamu’s upside down side profile but instead finding yourself nose to nose with him.

“why not?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“didn’t think that was what she wanted.”

the sound of osamu’s breathing and the trembling in your chest drowns out the steady hum of the katydids that echoes across the backyard.

“and what if you were wrong?”

you’re met with a sharp, careful intake of breath that mirrors the tightness in your throat.

“s’a shame i’m not a time traveler then, i guess.”

this time, it’s your turn to laugh. “i hear she’s back in town.”

“yeah?” he says, a little breathless, a lot hopeful. 

“there’s still nobody else i’d rather count fireflies with, osamu,” you whisper.

and as osamu tilts your chin with a gentle hand to tentatively brush his mouth against yours—

as you find yourself on top of him, fingers tangled in his hair as he cups the back of your head and kisses you until you can hardly breathe—

as you begin to forget where you end and he begins—

(you’ve both changed and you’ve grown, but faint yellow lights still wink in and out of existence in the sky above, the southern breeze still carries the faint chill of the lake beyond the woods, and osamu still feels more like home than anything ever has.)

—the porch swing sways, and you can feel osamu's smile in every kiss—

you fit perfectly here atop these old cushions now, in a tangle of limbs and lips and patient hearts.

[mapis-putellas]

Flu shots

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 2100

Warnings: needles

Summary: Alexia Putellas; two time Ballon D’Or winner and le reina of football was not scared of anything. Not the dark. Bugs. Clowns. Heights. Not even spiders. Or well, that’s what you thought. It was only when the barça squad have to get their flu shots do you realise there is something she’s scared of after all.

Notes: I might have to start writing every other day because this took like four hours bro.

[prompts]

Alexia Putellas; two time Ballon D'Or winner and le reina of football was not scared of anything. Not the dark. Bugs. Clowns. Heights. Not even spiders. Or well, that's what you thought considering she'd told you no different. It was only on a random Thursday during the month of October when the team were told they all had to get their flu shots the next day do you realise that maybe that wasn't the case after all.

Though her face remains as stoic as ever upon being told, you see the way her jaw tenses; the way her hands tighten around the edge of her seat. Your immediate response was to reach for her. To pull her into a hug or take her hand, but neither you or Alexia were fond of any sort of PDA outside your home so you were forced to simply watch her try and pretend nothing was wrong.

When you had gotten into the car, a part of you had admittedly wanted to question her. To ask if it was needles that she was afraid of or something else entirely. Not in a way that would make her uncomfortable, but to simply understand just what was going on through her head so you could do your best to reassure her.

You choose to remain silent however, because Alexia was notorious for denying any and all negative feelings she had and the last thing you wanted was for her to lie to you.

Instead, you simply reach over the console and take her hand in your own, feeling the way she squeezes tightly before settling on trailing the pad of her thumb over the back of your hand. The drive home was silent, and not much was spoken from beyond that point either. You did, however, make sure you were the big spoon that night, holding her as tightly as you could.

Alexia was definitely much stronger than you, but there was only a few inches between your heights allowing you to hold her throughout the entirety of the night without getting uncomfortable. Surprisingly, she was still in your arms when you wake up the next morning, although now she was facing you and curled up against your chest.

Her face was half buried against your chest, her leg thrown over your hip as her hands cling to the material of your shirt. Her breathing was soft, her quiet exhales seeping through the material of your shirt and hitting your bare skin. 

Waking up before her was not a common occurrence despite very much wanting it to be, so you make an effort to be as gentle as you can as you reach your free hand out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Alexia does no more than scrunch up her nose, and you can't help but quirk your lips up into a tender smile as you place a delicate kiss to her forehead.

This, unfortunately, does cause her to start waking up, and you wince a little in regret as you watch her eyes slowly flicker open. She lets out a quiet groan at the brightness of the room, tightening her arms around your waist and completely burying her face into your chest.

You feel the way her hands creep up the back of your shirt, resting against the bare skin at the small of your back for a small second before she dips her fingertips just beneath the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

An instinctive shiver flows through you at the action as you reach your own hand up to cup the back of her head. "Good morning, baby." You greet, determined to be extra gentle with her today.

At the sound of your voice, Alexia tilts her head back, heavy lids blinking tiredly as she puckers her lips. You kiss them gently. Not once, or twice, but three times before Alexia hums in content and nuzzles her face back into your chest. You tighten your grasp around her, grazing gentle circles across the length of her back as she dozes in and out of sleep.

Eventually, however, it soon becomes time to get up and face the day. Despite the fact you usually shower together to save both time and water, Alexia requests to shower by herself today which of course you encourage her to do without question.

Whilst it wasn't rare for Alexia to shower by herself, it wasn't exactly a common occurrence either. The shower was her thinking space. The place she could let her defences down without fearing anyone would see or judge. Allowing you in there with her was exposing in both senses of the word, because not only do you see her, but you also see her. She often reverts back into old habits when she’s stressed or anxious, and getting a flu shot when you’re terrified of needles would definitely make her feel both of those emotions.

To save time, you head through to the guest bathroom to have quick body shower, forgoing washing your hair until tonight when you and Alexia would inevitably shower together. When you make it back to your shared bedroom dressed a simple jeans and T-shirt, you see Alexia sat on the edge of your bed with her head in her hands. She too was dressed, clad in a pair of black shorts along with a grey zip up hoodie.

Immediately, you were concerned, feeling that familiar tug in your chest that always seems to appear whenever you see Alexia upset. You make your way over to her, gently nudging her elbows off of her knees before easing yourself onto her lap. She avoids eye contact by immediately hiding her face in your neck, her arms looping tightly around your waist as your own settle around her shoulders.

"I think I know why you're upset," you murmur after a few moments of silence, cupping the back of her head and grazing the pad of your thumb against her scalp. Alexia immediately goes ridged beneath you, but due to your position on top of her, she was forced to remain still and not bolt. "It's okay, ale. I promise. I'll be with you the entire time."

Alexia says nothing, and you highly suspect your words had gone through one ear and out the other.

"I'll hold you through it, if that would make you feel better?" You offer a few moments later.

Alexia peeks up at you, cheeks shiny with the residue of her tears. "Qué?"

You cup her face and gently wipe them away before pressing your lips against her forehead. "On my lap, like this. No one would ever know. It'll just be between us." You offer.

Alexia looks visibly embarrassed at even the suggestion of allowing someone she doesn't know to see her in such a vulnerable state, but at this point, you don't really see any other choice. If you left to her own devices, you were pretty sure she wouldn't even leave the house.

"Amor..." she trails off unsurely, and you're quick to try and sooth her by gently resting your forehead against her own. Your hands rise to once again cup her cheeks, delicately trailing your thumbs over the warm skin.

"I know," you murmur in understanding. "It's just a suggestion, ale. I promise you the nurse is not going to care. They're there to do a job, not to ask questions." 

Alexia sniffles as another tear streams down her cheek, "I just wish...no estaba tan asustada." She whispers, and you're immediately forced to swallow the tightness in your own throat as you cup the back of her head and coax her back to your chest.

"I know, baby. I know. But it's okay to be scared. Even of something that feels as silly as this. You know I won't ever judge you. Neither will anyone else."

Deep down, Alexia knows you're right, but she just can't fathom the thought of a needle being in the same room as her let alone one being injected into her body. She finds herself shuddering at thought, skin rising with goosebumps that were thankfully hidden beneath the material of her hoodie.

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but I promise you'll be okay my love. I've got you."

"Always?"

Always."

*

"Baby, you're gonna wear a hole in the floor." You warn lightly as you watch Alexia pace back and forth, your elbows on your knees and your chin resting in the palm of your hand.

You'd been at the doctors office for not even ten minutes, seated in a private room for which you were thankful. Despite encouraging her to sit multiple times, Alexia had done everything but. In fact, you were pretty sure she was becoming dangerously close to running.

To prevent her from doing so, on her next lap of the room, you reach out and grasp a handful of her shirt before tugging backwards onto your lap. She yelps in surprise as she lands, your arms looping tightly around her waist and holding her back flush to your front. Her feet hang a few inches from the floor, and you allow her to gently kick the heels of her feet against your shins to get all that anxious energy out.

"Relax, darling. Let's take some breaths, yeah?" You murmur into her ear.

Alexia clutches the hands on her stomach as she complies, taking a big breath in through her mouth and exhaling out of her nose.

"Again." You encourage, and Alexia complies, her eyes darting nervously around the room.

"Once more," she does, her head coming to rest against your shoulder. You press your lips against her cheek as you tighten your grasp around her. "Good girl. Now relax, okay? I've got you." You whisper, and Alexia takes one last deep breath before she stills in your arms.

Well, that was until the door opens. At the sound of it, Alexia immediately tries darting out of your arms. Due to your tight grip, she was not successful and the panicked whimper that escapes her lips does not go amiss.

"Hey, hey, ale, it's okay." you attempt to sooth as the nurse greets the both of you, pushing a metal trolley that held two flu shots. You wince at the sight, but Alexia only becomes more panicked.

"No, no por favor. No quiero." Her voice cracks, hands desperately prying at your own still clasped against her stomach.

"I know, I know. It's okay." Thankful over the fact you'd gotten her to take her hoodie off whilst you were in the car, you make eye contact with the nurse before silently gesturing to one of Alexia's arms. You receive a subtle nod in response, allowing you to bring your attention back to your upset girlfriend.

As her desperation grows, you're forced to pin her arms to her chest before wrapping your own around them. She wasn’t fighting you much now, but she was clearly still very upset.

"Alexia? Alexia, hey, look at me. Look at me." You bounce her on your lap slightly to get her attention, the blonde letting out a soft sob as she throws her head back against your shoulder.

"There we go, good girl. Take a deep breath for me, my love. As deep as you can."

Alexia shakes her head, eyes stubbornly screwed shut.

"Deep breaths, baby," you kiss her wet cheek. "Remember? I've got you. I've got you." You nod to give the nurse the go ahead, her gloved hand reaching over to clean the area on Alexia's arm with an alcohol wipe.

Alexia violently startles, but before she could yank herself away, the nurse squeezes her arm and quickly  gives her the shot. It happens in less than two seconds, not giving Alexia chance to work herself up further.

"All done, baby. It's over." You release her arms, shifting her on your lap slightly so she was sat sideways before pulling her into a tight hug. She lets out a deep, body shuddering sigh of relief as she hooks her arms around your shoulders and burrows her face into your neck, the tears of relief now falling down her face hitting your skin.

The feeling of the cold wipe against your bicep suddenly reminds you that you're here for a shot too, and you make an effort of relaxing your arm slightly so it wouldn't be as painful.

"I'm so proud of you." You whisper into her ear, and Alexia presses a gentle kiss to your neck in response.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @marysfics @liloandstitchstan

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

a/n: 2.3k - boothill finds you digging around in junk and then offers you a gift he hopes you won't refuse... [plsdontflopplsdontflopplsdont-]

the heavy metal clinking of boothill's foot steps clank their way to your shop's door. an all too familiar door he'd always find himself going up to whenever he was in need of repair- big or small. the swiveling security camera you keep at your entrance blinks with red-lit life and moves to start following his movements as soon as he enters it's field of vision.

who knows if you're ever actually paying attention to the camera feed or not though. you can be careless like that. sometimes you're just out- couldn't be bothered or could care less about the remote feed linked directly to your phone. other times, you're so focused on some project you neglect it entirely.

based on the sign hanging on your shop's door he was familiar with- it seemed that this time in particular you were out.

boothill didn't need to know how to write- much less read well- to take a wild gander as to where you had wondered off to. putting his spring loaded and metal jointed hands on his slim waist, his chin dips with an amused chuckle and shake of his head. the cowboy lifts the toe of his mechanical boot and twists his body fully 'round; his spurs scrapping across the ground during his lazy about-face. with one foot in front of the other and thumbs hooked through the hollow crops of his trousers, the galaxy ranger makes his way towards the junk yard.

it would never occur to the standard person to spend their free time digging around a scrap yard filled with junk thrown out for a reason- but you were anything but standard. if you weren't tinkering around in your shop or finishing up a repair or commission, you were scrounging around the grounds for material or 'hidden treasure'... which was key for just slightly more valuable junk.

a typical haul for you would be a few pieces of scrap metal you could use for wielding, the rare unstripped screw or loose gaggle of bolts, and all sorts of wire. if it saved you a few credits by finding material instead of buying them, you weren't one to argue with free trash.

passing under the wire-metal gate leading into the fenced-off territory, his thumbs still tucked into his pant legs, his ears stay sharp. listening for any sound of you digging around in some heap while his head swivels back and forth to try and catch a glimpse of you.

"ey, sugar, you around!" boothill shouts, one of his hands detaching from his hips to cup around his mouth. he wanders further in, gets more ground, before calling out the same sentence a second time. shaking his head in bewilderment on how far in you had gone digging, he goes even further still and tries calling out a third time.

"here!" you finally answer back. your voice echoes around him, bouncing off the scrap metal and spooking the rats and other critters that call the junk yard home. his head turns in the direction of your voice, the way his body leans towards it before his feet start carrying him that way never took notice in his own mind.

eventually, he makes it to you. squat down to the ground, under the rusty remains of some poor saps long eroded escape pod from whatever solar system they crashed in from. he crosses his arms, then his ankles, leaning his metal shoulder on the ruined dome you were digging under.

the ranger had no idea how long you had been out here, but judging by the half full bag you kept on your shoulder and the grease sticking to your neck and exposed skin he could guess it's been a bit. he chuckles when you dig out a rusted, broken pipe of... something, before tossing it over your shoulder with a disappointed click of your tongue and looking up at him. your cheeks had some gunk on it too, probably from you wiping the back of your gloves on it.

"fancy diggin' around in junk?"

"it's not all junk."

"the fudge it aint," he scoffs. to him, it absolutely was all junk. "this aint called the dang junk yard for nothin, sugar."

"it's a scrap yard."

"stubborn-bottom." you move to stand up, clapping your gloved hands together before taking them off so you could use your hands more freely. "good to see ya took my advice and startin' wearing some forkin' gloves around here." he eyes around at all the rust and sharp metal. "gonna get tetanus or somethin', and we can't have that."

"im liable to get tetanus from you before anything else," you joke so straight-faced it didn't feel like a joke. his crossed arms drop along with his jaw and his stance straightens as he uncrosses his ankles.

"ey', i aint as forkin' filthy as you pretend i am, and you know it." you shrug with a half smirk that was so dismissive he was tempted to keep arguing. you push the goggles you were wearing over your eyes to avoid getting anything in them and possible irritation onto your forehead. seeing the contrast between your sweaty, grease and dirt marked skin and the clean skin that was protected under the goggles had him scoff. "yer filthier than i am, by the look of things."

you roll your eyes and move to climb out of the rusty treasure trove of junk you had deemed no longer having anything of value. reaching out, boothill offers you his hand. you take it easily as he starts pulling you up and out to stand in front of him. your hand drops from his when you stand safely in his bubble, and he isn't sure if you know how close you are or not.

your nose is always so focused in tinkering around or messing with work that you can't always... read the room so to speak. its endearing, until it gets frustrating anyway.

"so, what're you here for this time? need something fixed again- i swear if you already burned through that new servo i replaced a month ago, im going to take off your arm and you won't get it back for a week."

"well, that's awful sweet of you." you knew by his dry tone and sneered lips that exposed his sharp teeth that the word sweet was definitely supposed to be a different five-letter word starting with 's'. one that his broken beacon (which you refuse to fix out of entertainment) wouldn't allow him to say.

"seems like an appropriate consequence to me, considering i don't charge you for repairs."

"i ain't here for not goose-dud repair," he hisses. "i had planned on givin' ya somethin', but based on your sweet attitude i aint so sure about it now."

"you brought me something?" he nods. "from a different solar planet?" he could see the curiosity start to ignite in your eyes. he nods again. you stuff your gloves into a pouch in your pants that he swears you've sewed another pocket into, before you're marching away from him and towards the entrance he had marched from at the beginning of this search. "well come on, let's get a moving!" you shout over your shoulder.

his synthetic voice chuckles at your back. eagerly waltzing after you.

boothill soon finds himself sitting with his knees apart and comfortably lounging with his arms on the back of your worn-down, two-cushioned couch the moment you two got back to the shop. he had taken himself to your quote- reception room, as he waited for you to unload your finds from the junkyard (meaning you just took your bag, flipped it upside and let its content spill out unceremoniously onto your worktable before you would eventually sort through it at a later time).

the tapping of his metal toes against your floor echoed dully against the rug under the sofa as you soon made your way to stand in front of him, hands on your hips and an expectant look in your eyes. flicking the brim of his hat cheekily to get a better look up at you, he lifted his chin.

"my attention is yours," you dramatically sigh, hands flaring to your sides before bouncing back against your legs.

"im flattered, sugar," he jests back. still, he shifts. the small pouch he had strung to his belt that was home to his array of extra fire rounds was soon detached from him. the string of which was used to tie it to him previously, hangs lazily from his metal fingertips. with a raised, semi-skeptical brow, you carefully take it off his hands.

"if this is some sort of prank," you warn. his hands raise in the air with his elbows still resting comfortably on the back of the cushions he was leaning against, gesturing that he meant no harm.

slowly- cautiously- you pull open the bag and remove two different items that had been nestled safely inside.

tossing the now empty bag onto the couch next to boothill's leg, you took each item into one hand and looked between them. one was a small crystal that was no larger than the center of your palm. shining a swirling color of green and blue, you could only imagine that it would look even prettier properly polished and with a light shining behind it. in the other was a small box, one that could be opened with a rusty lid. giving it a small rattle revealed something to be inside. doing so revealed a small robot that had been covered in rust, missing a robotic arm and wires spilling out from under the cracked and broken screen that would most definitely have acted as it's face.

"what's all this?" you ask softly. boothill stands from his lackadaisical lounging on your sofa to come and waltz up to your side. he pointed at the robot sitting sadly in the container he had brought him in first.

"i found this lil fella and thought you'd have a gas fixin' him right up. as for that," he points to the crystal of dual-swirling shades next, "accordin' to my scanners, that there's a pretty dadgum power source." boothill takes the small crystal from your palm and hovers it just above the robot. "it suits him, don't it?" he chuckles.

in truth, the slightly dingy looking crystal shard was too magnificent compared to the busted and rusted robot. but, with a bit of work, repair and love, perhaps the color of the crystal really would look nice against polished sheet metal.

"i figure givin' you somethin' else to tinker with would be more... enriching than just your usual forkin' machines." and it could keep you company, but he didn't say that out loud.

when you would get it working like he knew you could, maybe you'd stop and think about him while he was away chasing his reality out as a galaxy ranger. if you could just spare a single thought towards him every day because of a small robot and shiny rock? he'd be tickled pink.

"he's cute," you whisper gently and boothill wonders if you know you said it out loud at all. he chuckles, bringing his hand up to cup the designed dents atop his cowboy hat. taking it off his head, he gently drops it onto yours, gaining your attention back from the gifts he had given you.

the way you lift your eyes to look at him- filled with something akin to excitement and fondness- and gently cradle the small rusty robot with his hat now shadowing your face, he could almost hear the wires in his chest running on turbo. he'd had to cool down asap before he overheated or crashed.

taking a step back- for his own sake- he leaves his hat on your head before patting your back.

"get to it," he softly tells you. you mutely nod, an excited smile breaking out over your lips as you trot towards a different room. it was a small private work space you retreated to for personal projects. boothill was one that was usually allowed inside since this room was where he would get his tune ups most times.

with boothill following your back, he watches you trot to your work bench. you gently set the robot's box down and remove it from inside. the crystal you submerged in a bowl that you soon fill with polish to let it soak. it took all of ten minutes before you're surrounded by tools and wires and equipment made for digital repairs. all the while boothill remade his comfort in a worn-down rocker you kept in the corner, content on staying put until he was forced to leave. whether it by your or by his next bounty.

he couldn't very well leave you with his hat either, even if it looked better on you than him.

the next time boothill comes into your shop after that gift drop off, it wasn't a visit but a proper repair. running out of cooling agent for his internal hardware was just waiting for a disaster to happen. his synthetic-coded laugh burst into the room jollily as when he sat down on the stool he always planted his ass in for repairs, a small, shiny robot- with the cutest digital expressions and a small blue-green swirling crystal placed in the center of its chest- was waddling across your work bench. a vile of blue cooling agent the near size of his small metal body grasped tightly in its robotic arms.

it chirped happily with a digital reverb when you thank it for bringing the coolant over.

boothill was indeed tickled as pink could get seeing you already attached to the lil fella. he wondered what you named it.

a/n: smol robot go beep-boop (i love the idea of mechanic!reader just having a cute lil guy to follow them around like a puppy :(( [big thanks to @/birinboom and my partner for letting me pick their brain on what gifts boothill ended up giving to the reader bc i had no idea lol smooches <3]

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

I love how you characterize Aaron Hotchner! Would you please write something for him along with the quote ‘keep your eyes open, sweetheart’? Completely up to you, but was definitely thinking about some heavy angst 🙃🙃

"look at me" - hotch x gn!bau!reader - 985 words

cw: injuries and depictions of violence, general angst, anxiety, hotch literally just being a hero as per freakin usual

why hello my love! thank you sm for this request <3

i don't write a lot of angst, it's certainly something i need practice with! but i really enjoyed writing this and i smooch ur lil forehead

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

People always say that in a near-death experience, your whole life flashes before your eyes. 

Not yours. 

You didn’t see your whole life, no. You saw bits and pieces - learning to ride a bike, walking at your high school graduation, pinning your FBI badge to your blazer. And then you just saw Aaron. 

The first time you met, shaking hands as a brazen formality in the middle of a case, feeling his deep, brown eyes scrutinize your every move, watching him watch you. He was testing you back then, seeing if you’d be a good fit for the team.

The first real conversation you shared with him - The Beatles, which song was his favorite? Laughing at him when he said Yellow Submarine. 

When he held your hand for the first and only time on a particularly rough case, about four months ago, and promised you that things would get better. 

When you comforted him for the first time, about three months ago, after Haley left him. You promised him that everything happens for a reason. 

Five minutes ago, when you told him you felt certain the unsubs were going to strike again. You felt it in the pits of your stomach, you told Aaron. And he just nodded and said he trusted your intuition. Then he held the door open for you, and led you out of the police station, into the dead-quiet night of the street.  

He clicked the key fob in his hand, and the SUV burst into red-hot flames and sent you both flying. You were immediately knocked unconscious, your body thrust out into the street flippantly, like someone had simply thrown a baseball. 

You come to on the concrete, your head pounding. All sound is muffled, but you see Aaron on his knees, hovering over you. His face is covered in dirt and soot and blood, and he keeps cupping his hand over his ear. 

“ - hear me?” Sound is restored in the middle of Aaron’s question. It’s abrupt, like someone changing the channel on the TV, but you can hear again. You feel dizzy and disoriented as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Stay down,” Aaron instructs, guiding you gently to lay flat on your back once again. Your entire body is throbbing. 

“Aaron,” you feel a panicked, whispered sob escape you. He grabs your hand and you feel him squeeze it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. You feel dizzy, like you might pass out again and Aaron’s grip tightens around your hand. “It hurts.” 

“Keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart. Please?” The endearment rolls off of Aaron’s tongue like he’s said it a million times before. He hasn’t. Your relationship with him has been professional-ish up until this point. You’re not sure how he feels about you, exactly, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter. 

 He doesn’t even acknowledge that he said it. “What hurts?” Aaron’s speaking loudly, like someone who has headphones in. His hand is still pressed against his ear. 

“All of it,” you murmur. “Everything.” 

You feel tears in your eyes. Your stomach is in knots and you feel like someone is sitting on your chest. You blink a few times, feeling the tears drip down your face and onto your lips, salty and full of dread. 

Aaron’s checking you over, you realize, lifting your head gently and quickly to make sure you’re not bleeding. He’s talking to you, telling you what he’s doing so you don’t panic even more. He uses feather-light touches to lift your arm, and pain shocks you, coursing through your wrist. “Shh, hey, I’m sorry,” he says, laying your arm by your side. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Your wrist is broken.” 

You blink a few tears away. 

“I’m going to pick you up, Y/N,” he tells you. He never calls you by your first name, but you’re in so much pain that you can’t even be jarred by it. “Can you move your other arm?” 

It feels laden, but you can. You nod and whimper in confirmation. 

“Can you hook it around my neck?” He asks as he slides his hands under you. The crooks of your knees and your back are cradled by Aaron’s arms and you wrap your arm around his neck. Once he determines you’re stable in his arms, he lifts you up. You hear sirens blaring as they get closer, and you see Aaron grimace. You feel his body tense up, his fingers curl around the fabric of your shirt. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him in an unfiltered mumble, sniffling as he carries you towards the nearest ambulance. 

“It’s just my ear. I’m fine, Y/N. I’ll be fine,” he promises, but you feel how labored his gait is. It’s taking everything in him to carry you to the ambulance. You want to tell him to stop, to remind him that the paramedics can bring the gurney to you. But you’re so tired, so dizzy. You think maybe if you just rest your eyes a little bit, you might feel better. Your head tilts to rest in the crook of Aaron’s neck. Your eyes flutter shut. 

“Y/N, you might have a concussion. You have to stay awake, okay?” Aaron’s voice draws you back. Your eyes are shaky when they open, and you see him looking at you with weighted concern as he sets you onto the gurney. 

The paramedics load you shakily up into the ambulance, and you reach your uninjured arm out. “You’re going to the hospital with me, right?” You ask. 

Aaron nods, climbing in after the paramedics and sitting beside you. His eyes are piercing and full of consternation as he takes your uninjured hand in both of his. He runs his fingertips over your knuckles, nodding assuredly, though you are certain he is feeling exactly the opposite.  “Yeah. Of course. I’m not going to leave you.”

[daydreams-after-dark]

Sub Reader x Bratty Han (plus Doms Lino, Chan and features ot8). Established poly ot8 relationship.

Synopsis: Bratty Han convinces you to let him go down on you without permission from Chan and Lino. They punish you both when they get home.

Word count: 2.9k approx.

Unhinged level: 🤡🤡🤡🤡

CW below the cut.

⚠️⚠️⚠️Warnings: NSFW // 18+ content // MDNI // coercion //dom chan and lino // sub reader // oral sex (f and m rec.) // creampies // unprotected vaginal and anal sex // butt plugs // spanking with a belt // restraints // sex in front of a group // everyone cums all over reader // name calling // disrespecting reader (but it’s consensual punishment) // let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Han. The fucking brat. He loves to rile up the doms and soft doms, pushing their buttons, making them snap. He likes to coerce the subs into messy situations in the hopes of getting into trouble off the doms Chan and Lino.

Han loves to get you into trouble, and for some reason you can’t resist his bratty, suggestive energy. He makes you lose the fear of consequences, or maybe it’s that he makes you forget about consequences entirely? Until, of course you are being thrown face down on the bed, your panties pulled down around your thighs as you get spanked by Chan while Lino fucks your face (although you love that kind of punishment).

You think every idea Han has is a good one. There’s just something about him that makes you want to please him. You want to please him as much as you need to please Chan and Lino. You’d honestly let him do anything he wants to you.

That’s how you ended up here. On the couch in the living room.

“Come on baby.” He whispers, kissing your neck. Your shirt is already off and he’s cupping your breast, under your bra, with one hand, and is three fingers deep inside your cunt.

He knows you are pliable right now. You’ll agree to anything. “Let me taste your sweet pussy.” He thrusts his fingers in hard making you squeal. “So fucking wet. I know you want more than just my fingers, right?”

You shake your head. “Sungie, no. We don’t have permission. What if they find out?” you say timidly.

“No one’s gonna know. Just think about how it’s gonna feel with my hot… wet…mouth,” he kisses you sloppily. “Against your…aching…dripping…pussy?” He breaks away only to lean his forehead against yours. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” he asks with a serious tone. You nod. You are. “So… can I?” he pushes.

“Yes.” You whisper. He is right. Your cunt really was aching for him. His fingers had almost taken you over the edge, but you know his skilled and quick mouth will have you seeing stars in no time.

“You’re my favourite, you know that, right? Always up for anything. Such a good girl.” He says as he makes his way down between your legs. “Spread them wider for me. Let me take a good look at you.” He pushes your legs open and bites his lip hungrily as he inspects your most intimate parts.

“Such a pretty, tight, little hole.” He watches your pussy clench around nothing as he removes his digits. He spreads your lips apart and licks a stripe up from your vagina to your clit. You cry out. Why does it always feel so good? You throw your head back and squeeze you eyes closed as Han laps up all of your arousal that’s dripping from you. Your back arches off the couch when he slips his tongue into your cunt.

“Fuck, Ji!” you cry. “I’m so close.”

And then you hear it. Your phone ringing. You know the ringtone. Han knows the ringtone. Lino is calling.

“Answer it, baby. You don’t want to get in trouble for missing a call from the boss.” Han pauses his movements.

“I… I can’t-”

“Answer it.” Han repeats himself.

And of course you do as he says.

With a shaky hand and a fuzzy brain, you answer the call. “H-hello?” you say softly.

“What the fuck took you so long, kitten?” Lino is angry. Fuck. “Um… I’m sorry, I was just…ahhhh.” You feel Han’s mouth latch onto your clit.

“You were just what? What is so important that it took you more than three rings for to answer the phone?” Lino growls.

You can barely find the words you need. Han is bringing you so close to climax that you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your chest, and you know your heavy breathing must sound suspicious. You try with everything you have to ignore Han and to focus on Lino.

“I was just….working out… yes…running.” You manage.

And then you feel Han’s fingers in your pussy again, pumping in and out of you whilst he slurps loudly against your clit. The wet, obscene sounds becoming so loud that it threatens to give you away.

“Kitten?” Lino’s voice tries to cut through the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that has taken over your body. It is so hard to concentrate on Lino. Han is too intoxicating. Han feels too good. Han is your whole world. Han is the only person that matters. Han making you come is the only thing you need right now. You would surely die without it.

“Hannie-” you choke and the tension inside you snaps, sending pulsating pleasure through your veins and your legs shaking around Han’s head.

“You have to be fucking joking.” Lino does not sound happy. “Chan and I will be home in one hour. You and Han better be ready. You are going to be so fucking sorry.” And with that Lino is gone.

You lean up on your elbows and look down at the man that just took you to the stars. He is already looking up you with the most smug look on his face. You can’t tell if he is feeling pleased with himself because he convinced you (yet again) to let him have unauthorised access to your body, or that he has managed to get the you two caught?

It is a rather odd dynamic, between you and Han. Han is a bratty little shit, but he is not the boss. Not by a long shot. He just loves stirring up trouble and making life challenging for Chan and Lino. Han thinks it’s fucking hilarious to get himself, and any of the other subs, into trouble. Why? Because punishment is always fun. What he finds the most fun of all is the bemused expressions on Chan and Lino’s face when, as always, you have gone along with some devious idea of his.

You don’t even know why you always go along with whatever Han wants. But you can’t seem to stop yourself.

Even when it leads to this situation right now.

One hour later you and Han sitting side by side on the end of the bed, awaiting punishment.

The bedroom door bursts open and Chan and Lino enter the room - followed by the rest of the members. This was different. Punishment had never involved an audience before.

It makes you wet, and you were sure it is making Han hard.

They look pissed. Lino speaks first. “Everyone take a seat, stand against the wall. Make yourself comfortable.”

Seungmin and Changbin stand against the wall, and Felix, Innie and Hyunjin take places on the bed behind you.

Chan disappears out of the room momentarily, returning with two dining chairs and placing them in front of you and Han. Chan sits himself down on one and Lino drags the other a little further away to the right side of the room.

“Han,” starts Chan, “strip, then sit on that chair.” He nods to the empty dining chair.

Han immediately removes his clothes and takes a seat as instructed. You are right, he is hard. You hear Seungmin snicker to your left. How fucking humiliating.

“Everyone listen up.” Chan addresses the room. “Lino and I have called you all in here today because there are some of you who do not know how to follow rules.” Silence and anticipation fills the room and you start to become nervous.

“Han, in particular, doesn’t think he needs permission to play with our kitten here.” Lino says as he stands in front of you, grasping your chin forcing it so you’re looking into his dark, angry eyes. “Take off your top and bra and go lay over Chan’s lap so you can receive your punishment.”

You do as he says, nervously removing your garments and walking to were Chan sits.

“Lay over me, ass away from Han.” He pulls you over his lap and slaps your ass. Your head dangles by his shoe and you can’t see any of the men in the room. Chan pulls your shorts and panties down exposing your bare pussy and ass to everyone and pulls your cheeks apart. “Look at that boys… Han thinks this is his.” He snarls and roughly prods your pussy with his fingers. You gasp. You are so vulnerable, and so turned on. “Lino, come look at her pretty little holes.”

Lino kneels down next you, and the pair start finger fucking you at the same time. They plunge two fingers each into your cunt, stretching you, opening you up, showing everyone how much of a little whore you are. You begin to moan with pleasure, which apparently is against the rules. “Felix. Come pull the rest of her clothes off.” Chan instructs. “That’s it, Felix. Now shove her panties in her mouth to shut her up.”

Felix comes around and stuffs your mouth with your panties to muffle your whimpers, and then he’s gone again.

From where Han sits, all he can see is all the other men’s reactions to what is happening to you. He is turned on as fuck, but also jealous. He wants to see what was happening to your pussy. He can hear it though. The sopping, sloppy noises of your wetness. His dick is leaking. He knows there’s a good chance he’s going to come untouched. His hand automatically grips his cock.

"Hey, he’s touching his dick!” Innie exclaims, pointing to Han.

“Hyunjin, tie him up.” Chan growls. “This is meant to be a punishment.”

Hyunjin swiftly ties Han’s hands together and someone decides it’s a good idea to tie yours together too. “Let’s tie here’s behind her back.”

All you can do is lay there and take whatever punishment you are given.

“Everyone. This is what’s gonna happen.” Lino addresses the waiting men. “Our little darling here is going to choke on Chan’s cock, while I fuck her greedy little cunt. Your job, boys, is to jerk off while you watch. When you need to cum, you will come up, ask for permission, and choose where you want to cum on her.”

Seungmin, another dom, pipes up. “Hey why do I need to ask permission? And I don’t want to cum on her - I wanna cum in her.”

Lino rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget who's in charge here! But yeah, anyone can cum anywhere on or in her. Except Han. He’s not allowed to cum at all.”

Your pussy clenches at the thought of having everyone’s cum all over you.

“Everyone, get your cocks out.” You hear zippers and belt buckles as they free their dicks. Chan and Lino continue to finger your pussy. They jiggle your ass cheeks, make noises of approval at how wet you are. You feel Lino spit on your asshole and spread it around the rim, then plunge a finger deep into your hole. You tense and clench, making the pair chuckle to themselves. “Innie, give me the butt plug.” You brace yourself as Lino presses the rather large plug into your ass. He is careful as he presses it in. He doesn't actually want to hurt you. In fact, everyone knows everyone else's limits, hard no's, safe words and gestures. Even though you're tied up and your mouth is stuffed with panties, everyone knows if you shake your head rapidly, that means you want to stop.

“Pass me your belt, Changbin.” Says Lino standing up, leaving your hole clenching around the plug.

“We must set an example, mustn’t we Chan?” And without warning you feel the belt hit your ass cheek. You can’t cry out, or grab hold of anything. Chan holds you still. The belt comes down again. A little harder. Your skin stings. Again. Tears well up in your eyes. Another smack with the belt. You squeeze your eyes tight and the tears slip out. The next hit with the belt is on your pussy. It’s not as hard, but the sting is harsh. You hear gasps from some of the onlookers.

“Ummm,” you hear a timid voice next to you. “Can I please cum?” Felix.

“Already?” Chuckles Chan. “Sure. Where you going to put it?”

“The base of her spine please.” Always so polite. The spanking pauses, and you feel ropes of hot cum land on your lower back and hear the sweet noises Felix makes when he cums.

“Good boy.” Lino says proudly. “You did so good.” Chan concurs. “You may leave if you want. Or stay and watch. What do you want to do?”

Felix hesitates. “I’d like to stay and watch.” He says quietly.

“That’s our boy.” Seungmin claps his hands.

You are repositioned so that you are kneeling on the carpet in front of Chan. He lifts up slightly so he can shimmy his sweatpants down, freeing his enormous cock. Chan has the biggest cock out of everyone, and you know you are about to gag and choke very soon. He removes the panties that were in your mouth and fists a handful of hair on the back of your head and shoves your mouth down over his cock without care, forcing you take as much as possible. Then he pushes you down even more. You splutter, gag, and make a whole host of humiliating sounds as Chan pulls your mouth up and down on his cock, hard, fast and rough. You can get out of his grasp if you really want to. But you don't. You love this.

Meanwhile, Lino positions himself behind you, lifting you up enough to push his cock into your sopping cunt. The fullness feels incredible. Lino fucks you rough from the get go, leaving you no time to adjust. With your hands tied behind your back you are 'helpless'. And it’s driving you, and the men wild.

One by one, they come up seeking permission to cum on you.

You’re pulled up off Chan’s cock so Binnie can cum on your tits. You sneak a glance at Han to who looks so fucked out, his dick red and angry. Fuck you want to relieve him of that.

Innie wants to cum in your mouth. “Swallow it, kitten.” Lino instructs. You swallow it all and then continue to suck Chan off. Hyunjin wants to cum on your stomach, so again you’re lifted upright so he can mark you. Felix comes back again, this time wanting to cum in your mouth.

Finally Seungmin is ready to give you his load. “I’m going to cum in her cunt.” He announces. Lino grumbles and pulls out of you, and you feel Seungmin at your entrance. He thrusts into you hard making you gag on Chan’s cock. He digs his fingers into the side of your body and snaps his hips three times and you feel him release himself deep inside you.

“I’m not sticking my cock back in there after you. I don’t wanna feel your jizz on my dick.” Lino sounds irritated. Seungmin laughs and leaves the room.

“You’ll have to fuck her ass then, mate.” Chan says between clenched teeth. He was close to cumming.

“Hmm, you’re right.” Lino pulls the plug from your ass and pushes his thick cock into you, grasping your neck for both leverage and to feel you choking around Chan’s cock. Your pathetic cry is too much for Chan and he cums down your throat. “Swallow it.” Lino says from behind you, pounding his cock into your ass with an unimaginable force. You swallow and open your mouth, showing Chan your empty mouth.

You can feel Seungmin’s cum dribbling down your inner thigh, Felix’s cum dried on your back, and your breast and stomach are sticky. You are a mess as Lino fucks into you, holding you up by your tied arms. He pulls you against his chest, his mouth close to your ear. “Look at him,” Lino hisses, referring to Han. “I don’t know why the fuck you let him get you into this mess. Maybe you forgot who owns your pussy, hmm? Maybe you forgot I own your ass.” He growls. He reaches a hand down to your clit. “Now cum for me.” He demands.

You’re close but you can’t quite get there. You look at Han again. His cock. Yes, you love that cock so much. Closer. His trim waist and defined torso. Yes, you love to have your legs wrapped around it. Almost there. You look up to his face. His eyes. They are locked on yours. Encouraging you to cum. Fuck!!!! You clench around Lino’s cock and he pumps into you a few more times before you feel him paint your walls.

Lino pulls out and plugs you back up. “I own your ass. Don’t forget it.” He says and stands up. He and Chan pull their pants back on. You look around the room. It’s only now you realise that the rest of the men have left.

You see that Han has cum untouched, cum plastered on his abdomen, but he is still hard as stone. Chan unties him. “Now you clean her up - with your mouth… and then fuck Seungmin and Lino’s cum back into her holes.”

You and Han are alone again. He’s at your side untying you, immediately licking the cum off your tits, then kisses you. “That was so worth getting you into trouble.” He smirks and picks you up to lay you on the bed.

He hovers over you and gazes at you tenderly. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” He whispers.

You nod.

“Then… will you let me?”

“Let you what? They’ve given you permission to fuck me.” You say.

He shakes his head. “Will you let me make love to you? Slowly?”

Typical, bratty Han, still not wanting to follow instructions.

You nod. “Yes.”

A/N: I kinda wanted to end this on a sweet note, and make Hannie still unable to follow rules, like if he’s told to fuck her, then he wants to go slow and tender. But… he is a sneaky little shit getting her into so much trouble.

@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @wolfennracha @3rachasdomesticbanana

[hyewka]

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.