#is 100% someone who will just find a way around that??

[papaya-twinks]

nerves - l.n - p.1

Warnings: Swearing, slight sexism, slight angst

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

College/Uni AU

A/N - Other parts, floor plan of the apartment and more is on the masterlist here

Lando groaned, finally shoving off the pillow he’d been using to muffle the sound of knuckles rapping on his door. Who the hell woke someone up so early in the morning? So early at… well, 10 a.m. It wasn’t that early, but still!

“Christ, give a man a moment!” Lando muttered, hurriedly running a hand through his hair before opening the door to reveal his landlord, Mario, standing there expectantly, not looking at all pleased at the fact that Lando had taken so long to answer.

“Do put a shirt on, Lando.” Mario rolled his eyes, gingerly taking one of the plain black T-shirts Lando had thrown aside a few days ago and holding it out to him. Lando grumbled under his breath - an impressive string of expletives - as he pulled the shirt on.

“So, can I help?” Lando asked, his tone already bored and laid-back as he leaned against the doorframe, his curls messy from sleep.

“It’s about your rent, Lando.” Mario’s hands were clasped as he looked over his tenant with piercing eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lando thought, sighing. “I paid my rent, Mario,” he said, his voice stiff as he moved to shut the door, only to be stopped by Mario’s perfectly shined leather shoe blocking it. Jeez, who even wore a suit so early in the morning?

“You were £100 short, Lando,” Mario said, his voice firm as Lando avoided eye contact, idly playing with his hands and picking at his nails - a habit he’d had since childhood.

“C’mon, Mario, I’m a student. I can’t-,” Lando started.

He sighed as Mario cut him off again. “I’m aware,” the Italian man said, clasping his hands together like some ridiculous businessman. “But this is the fourth month in a row, Lando.” Mario continued, his voice exasperated. Lando groaned in response.

“Look,” Mario said, “I don’t want to kick you out any more than you want me to, but it just isn’t fair to the other tenants who pay the full rent on time,” he emphasized the "on time" to remind Lando he was a week late last month.

“Look, dude,” Lando said, his cheeks flushing a light shade of red. “I’m trying, alright? I’m a student, though-,” he began his protest, but Mario tutted, clicking his tongue.

“Not this again.” Mario waved a hand dismissively. “Lando, you need to deliver the money, or split it.”

Split it? Oh, no, no, no. If there was one thing about Lando, it was that he valued his personal space - and what Mario was hinting at was not his definition of personal space. No, by ‘split it,’ Mario meant getting a roommate.

“I know what you’re going to say, Lando,” Mario said, hands clasped, “and yes, I doubt anyone would want to stay with you either.” He glanced at Lando’s messy bed hair and the room full of junk scattered around.

“Hey,” Lando said, holding his hands up defensively. “This is bed hair! I just woke up! It doesn’t usually look like this!”

Mario rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at Lando’s lack of understanding of his priorities - getting the rent paid.

"Lando, I’ve given you plenty of time to sort this out. I’m tired of chasing you for the money you owe me! You can’t keep avoiding this - if you don’t find a way to pay, I’m renting the place out to someone else.”

Lando groaned, rolling his eyes at the stupidly formal tone in which his landlord spoke, the attitude grating on his nerves. “And if I don’t?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“You’re leaving, then,” Mario said, his eyes locking with Lando’s.

As much as Lando wanted to refuse and slam the door in Mario’s face, he couldn’t. It had taken him damn near a year to find a place to stay, let alone this one, for his university years, and all the other apartments around campus were full of other students.

Lando sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of ways to pay for his place. Maybe ask his parents or family? No, they’d already paid enough of his debt so far… he really didn’t have a choice, did he?

“I’ll get the fucking- damn roommate,” Lando muttered, correcting himself quickly as Mario nodded in satisfaction.

“Get this cleaned up,” Mario said. “She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

Lando’s eyes widened as he gaped at the shorter man. “Sorry?” he spluttered. “She-?! And what- fifteen minutes?!”

But by the time he’d settled down and stopped having a mini freak-out in his head, Mario had already turned on his heel and was heading down the hallway.

Lando muttered every curse word he knew as he stormed back into his room, trying to ignore the rush of panic now flooding his veins. Fifteen minutes?

His eyes scanned the disaster area of his room - the laundry that had been piling up for weeks, the empty pizza boxes, a rogue sneaker half-hidden under his bed. Great. Fantastic. He had fifteen minutes to somehow turn this dump into something that resembled a human habitat.

This was going to be a disaster.

Lando began shoving the clothes off the bed, his movements jerky and exaggerated as he muttered under his breath. "How the hell does Mario expect me to have this place spotless in-?” he glanced at the clock, his eyes widening as it ticked down to 13 minutes.

The scent of stale coffee and something vaguely like fast food clung to the air, and Lando gagged. He grabbed a sweatshirt off the floor, unceremoniously tossing it into a laundry basket, before tossing it to the side in favor of grabbing a handful of empty cans from the desk.

“Should’ve definitely thrown these out yesterday… or the day before... or the day before that.” He growled in frustration as the can crushed with a satisfying noise, but the task seemed endless, like some cruel game he hadn’t signed up for.

With a deep breath, Lando ran his hands over his face, steeling himself. It was bad. No, it was horrific.

But somehow, he was going to make it work. He’d just have to hope that the woman didn’t take one good look at the room and run for the hills.

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But finally, after what felt like the hardest fifteen minutes of his life, he managed to get the room…somewhat bearable looking. He’d thrown on a random green sweater, some baggy jeans and some sneakers, looking decent.

He threw a few socks into the wash basket, shutting the doors as he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.

And just in time for Mario’s same, sharp knock against the door, as Lando gave his hair one last look, before opening it.

As soon as he opened the door, his eyes fell onto your figure, tracing over the small crop top and the shorts you were wearing. The first thing he noticed was you were pretty - but he was still pissed about having to stay with a girl.

You’d probably be some high maintenance chick who insisted on making a mess and stinking the house of nail polish or whatever - and he’d not let your looks get you anywhere in this place, if you wanted to stay, you’d do your share of chores.

“Hi,” you said, a smile on your face as Mario wheeled your suitcases past Lando, ignoring how he bristled, his jaw clenched.

“Hey,” he said, not giving a care for how tense and forced his voice sounded as he stepped aside.

You ignored the firm voice of his, stepping inside as he closed the door, your eyes falling to the…somewhat half-made bed.

“So…” you said, attempting to start a conversation as you walked in front of Lando to your new room, connecting to his with an en-suite bathroom, “how lol have you been here?”.

Lando cleared his throat, momentarily distracted by the way the afternoon sun caught the light in your eyes. Damn, should we’re pretty. But no. He wasn’t going to let his mind wander there. This was a roommate situation, not some- whatever else his brain was trying to suggest.

“A bit,” he said dryly, not caring to make any conversation with you. In his mind, he’d planned it out - you’d stay well out of you way and he’d ‘split’ the chores between the pair of you (though in reality he’d make you do all of them).

“That’s cool,” you said, a little weak at carrying the whole ass conversation.

Lando just nodded, not quite able to hide the irritation in his expression. “Yeah, well... make yourself comfortable. Don’t expect me to clean up after you, though,” he added, his tone biting.

“Yeah, I can clean up after myself, don’t worry about me,” you said, your voice still maintaining its sweet demeanour, rivalling his clearly annoyed tone. God, the way you were so…nice really pissed him off.

Lando clenched his fists at his sides, feeling his frustration build. Don’t worry about me. He didn’t want to worry about you. He didn’t want to worry about anyone. This was supposed to be his space. His sanctuary. Not some shared dorm room.

“Look,” he said, his voice sharper now, “I’m not exactly thrilled about this either, but Mario’s got it all figured out. We’ll split rent, we’ll keep it quiet, and-,” he hesitated, thinking about how much of a disaster this was already shaping up to be, “-I won’t cause trouble, if you don’t.”

“I didn’t come here to mess up whatever…sanctuary you have going on, Lando,” you said, still somehow maintaining a calm and sweet tone as you looked over the sofa, littered were some wrappers - he must’ve missed that.

Lando almost snarled at the way you said his name, like you weren’t in the least bit intimidated. It rubbed him the wrong way.

Flushing, he grabbed the wrapper, stuffing it into his pocket. “Fine,” he bit out, taking a step back. “Welcome to my peaceful existence,” he added sarcastically, voice dripping with distaste.

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Once you’d dropped your bag in the room Mario had shown you and started sorting through your things, Lando thought he might finally get a break. He plopped himself onto the couch, grabbed the controller, and immediately dove into a game.

Something about the mind-numbing, pixelated violence helped him forget that his whole world had just been turned upside down by you.

He wasn’t sure why he was still so angry. He wasn’t a guy who hated everyone, but there was something about you that set him on edge. Maybe it was how effortlessly you just walked in and acted like you belonged here - like you didn’t need to ask for permission.

Maybe it was how you didn’t seem phased by anything. Either way, Lando couldn’t shake the feeling that you were going to make his life a whole lot more complicated.

It wasn’t that you were some annoying, high-pitched bimbo or whatever. He just hated the way you were so relaxed and willing to…cooperate! He didn’t like it. It was…weird.

He lost the next round, swearing under his breath as his character was blown to bits. Of course, he was distracted by thoughts of the damn roommate.

What if you were one of those people who hogged the bathroom for hours, or played music all night, or left food out and made the whole place smell like... whatever it was you ate? Probably sushi or whatever high maintenance girls ate. He hated sushi.

As stupid as his frustrations were…he was almost describing himself. He spent ages in the bathroom fixing his hair, he played music all night and he always had wrappers about.

Great, Lando thought. He was already in a bad mood.

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Lando didn’t even look up. He was too busy trying to beat the next level.

Then, the sound of your voice broke through the focus of the game, sharp and clear.

“Hey, Lando?” your stupidly perfect voice came from the hallway. He groaned inwardly, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. “What?” he grumbled, refusing to shift his gaze.

“Uh, quick question,” you continued, your voice soft but insistent, “Do you have any... bathroom schedule thing, or should I just... wing it?”. Lando froze. His character got shot in the head. He cursed under his breath and paused the game, finally looking at you.

“You want to know about bathroom schedules?” His voice was incredulous, as if you were asking about something ridiculous.

You didn’t seem to care about his tone, standing there with one hand on the doorframe, looking genuinely curious. “Yeah, like, is there a time you prefer to have the bathroom to yourself, or do we just, you know, work it out?”

Lando blinked. He didn’t think you were asking this seriously. “You mean... like, are we going to schedule bathroom time, like some sort of military operation?”

You shrugged. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s a small place. I don’t want to be in there when you need to use it, and vice versa.”

‘Why does she say vice versa? That’s so weird,’ Lando thought to himself as he turned to staring at the floor once more, his gaze showing his annoyance.

Lando sat up straight, eyes narrowing - he had a bad feeling about this. She probably takes forever in there, he thought. He could already picture it—an hour-long shower, shampoo bottles everywhere, the door locked.

And he’d be left waiting, pacing around, trying to figure out if he could use the bathroom without interrupting your “process.”

“Look,” he said, rubbing his forehead like he already had a headache, “I’m not a bathroom scheduler. I just need to know if I’ve got a window, you know? So I can not get locked out when I need to take a piss.” he waved his hands dismissively, more annoyed by the conversation than he should have been.

You raised an eyebrow, unbothered by his attitude. “Right, but, like, we’re sharing the space. I don’t wanna be stuck in there while you’re waiting to use it. So maybe you could tell me if you usually go in the morning or, I don’t know, at night or something.”

Lando sighed, slumping back against the couch in frustration. “I don’t have a schedule. It’s just when I need it.”

But that wasn’t what annoyed him. What annoyed him was the assumption that you’d need the bathroom for ages, and the fact that now, in his mind, the whole situation felt like a contest over who could take longer in there.

He could already picture it: You’d probably stay in the shower for an hour, do whatever you did with your hair, and leave him standing there, waiting. Meanwhile, he’d just want to brush his teeth and get out.

“I just don’t wanna get stuck behind you if you decide to take a two-hour shower,” Lando muttered under his breath, even though he knew he was being dramatic.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going to take two hours, Lando. Just don’t make a scene when I’m in there, okay?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. We’ll just... we’ll figure it out. You’ll be in there all day, and I’ll just wait my turn.”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin, turning to leave. “Glad we’ve got that settled.”

As you walked away, Lando just shook his head, muttering curses under his breath. The idea of having to share the bathroom with someone else was bad enough. But now, you—whoever you were—had turned it into some ridiculous negotiation. And for the first time in a while, Lando seriously regretted not looking for a studio apartment.

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It was already 5 p.m., and after what felt like hours of unpacking and trying to make your new room feel at least a little like home, you were staring blankly at your phone. You’d organised your books, set up your desk, and even made your bed - what to do now?

Now, all you had to do was, well, do something. Anything. It felt like the longest, most boring afternoon ever, and you hadn’t made a single friend yet.

The idea of sitting alone in the silence was unappealing, so you turned to the only other person in the flat - Lando.

You walked down the short hall and walked into the living room, watching as he clicked rapidly on the controller, his attention solely focused on the game in front of him.

“Lando?” you said, leaning against the frame. “You wanna watch a film or something? I’m kind of bored.”

The sound of video game bullets and a string of curses spilled out from inside the room before he finally grumbled, “You’re asking me if I wanna watch a film? What is this, a sleepover?” he scoffed, his voice nearly a snap.

You frowned slightly but pushed on. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I could use some company, and you look like you’re about to lose your mind in that game anyway.”

Lando didn’t even look up from the TV, his fingers moving furiously over the controller. “I’m good, thanks,” he muttered, his voice flat. “Not really in the mood.”

You blinked, your shoulders sinking a little at his rejection. You stood there for a beat, wondering if maybe you’d misread the situation. You’d only just moved in, and maybe he just needed some time to warm up to the idea of having a new roommate.

Still, it stung a little. You tried again, forcing a small smile. “Okay, but I’m not letting you sit here alone all night. You need to take a break from that game.”

Lando shot you a look over his shoulder - his face deadpan, eyes dark with frustration. “I’m fine, alright? Go find something else to do, paint your nails or whatever,” he said, raising a voice to a high pitched tone, mocking a bimbo-like voice.

He went back to the screen, clearly signalling that the conversation was over. “You’re so rude,” you said, crossing your arms and refusing to budge as he groaned.

“Yeah? Maybe I am,” he said, “will that make you leave me alone or d’you need more?”. You scoffed, standing up straight. “Whatever! But I’m not a bimbo,” you said, glaring at Lando.

He chuckled darkly - you looked more cute than feisty. “Sure you ain’t sweetheart,” he said, “you just happen to be a well-pampered, pretty little thing but ain’t no bimbo,”.

Your heart sank. You weren’t sure what it was, but Lando’s blatant disinterest was starting to make you feel... unwanted. You hated the way he made it seem like you were some kind of nuisance just for trying to talk to him.

As you walked down the hallway, your heart was pounding in your chest. That was the last time you’d try to make nice with him. Who the hell did he think he was, treating you like that?

You practically slammed your door behind you, breathing hard as you leaned against it, trying to calm down. You hated how his words had gotten under your skin. You didn’t even know him, but somehow, he’d managed to get to you.

You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to be treated like some shallow girl who only cared about her nails or whatever other stupid thing he thought about you.

You glanced around your room, suddenly feeling even more alone than before. The reality of being stuck in a flat with someone like him hit you harder than expected. You weren’t looking for a friendship, but a little respect wouldn’t hurt.

Sighing, you sank into your desk, staring at your hands, eyes trailing to your nails. You weren’t really paying attention to what you were doing, rather thinking over your last reaction.

You’d been nothing but nice, and Lando was treating you like a burden. A burden. Maybe that was what you were. Maybe you were a bimbo and you didn’t realise you were one.

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Clenching your fists, you dragged yourself from your bed, leaving your phone on your cabinet and making your way to the en-suite bathroom. It was a nice room, with pretty white furniture and a nice, golden-like light. Great for pictures, you thought.

But just as those words entered your mind - you froze. That was such a…bimbo thing to think, you told yourself. You were starting to question yourself… was Lando right?

Whatever.

You wriggled out your outfit, locking both doors connecting to the bathroom as you turned the water on. Sighing, you stepped into shower, your muscles immediately relaxing under the hot water.

You ran both your hands down your hair, slowly massaging your scalp as your teeth sank into your lower lip.

You’d be able to deal with Lando if it meant having hot showers like these every day. Just as your mind slowly fogged up, nothing but the soothing feeling of the water on your body enveloping your naked body-

“Oi bimbo!” Lando called from outside the door as you audibly groaned, turning the water off. “What!?” you exclaimed, clearly annoyed.

“Whatchu doin’ in there? I need my stuff!” Lando said, and god did he sound like a stupid little bratty kid. “Too bad, I’m having a shower,” you said, reaching for the knob to turn the water back on.

“Dude what the hell?!” he groaned, thumping his fist on the door, “It’s not your turn!”.

You blinked, too stunned to fully process what he was saying. "What? You’re seriously mad that I’m in the shower?" you said, almost in disbelief.

"Yeah, I am," he snapped, his voice muffled through the door as he spoke. “It’s not your turn!”

You froze. What the hell was he talking about?

“Turn?” You raised an eyebrow, confusion taking over. “What turn? We didn’t even make a schedule, Lando. It’s just a bathroom,” you said sarcastically through the door, mimicking him.

Lando’s jaw tightened. "Yeah, but I’m the one who needs to use it now. You suggested we get on a schedule, remember? So it’s my turn!" His tone was dripping with frustration, clearly more annoyed at the fact that you’d suggested this schedule idea in the first place.

You couldn’t believe this. Of all things, this was what he was going to complain about?

“I suggested a schedule,” you said, your voice growing more incredulous, “because we’re sharing the space! I didn’t know you’d turn it into some competition about whose turn it is in the shower, Lando!”

“Even if it was a competition, I’d beat you in anything!” Lando scoffed, still twisting and rattling the handle from his side of the room.

Big-headed jerk.

“You said we needed to avoid all this awkwardness,” he huffed, “but now you’re in there, taking your sweet time when you know I need to use it next. You’re being selfish.”

“Selfish?!” you couldn't help but laugh bitterly. “You’re the one who’s making this a problem! I’m just taking a shower!”

Lando was still glaring at the doorframe, his jaw tense as he listened to your argument.

He didn’t get it. None of this had ever been about scheduling bathroom time, or competing over who needed it most. It was about giving each other some space. But Lando, stubborn as ever, didn’t seem to get the bigger picture.

"Whatever, fine," you muttered, your own temper flaring. "I’ll just- I'll be out in a minute." You finished your shower as quickly as you could, the warm water doing little to calm the growing frustration that churned in your gut.

You pulled out your favourite comfy nightdress - a simple, soft fabric in pale pink, perfect for winding down after a long, frustrating day. You walked over to your bed, moving as quietly as you could, trying to ignore the residual tension in the air between you and Lando.

You slipped into the dress, feeling the fabric against your skin. It was soothing, and for a moment, it felt like maybe everything would be okay. Maybe the awkwardness with Lando would settle after a little time.

But you had no idea how long that would take.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring out the window at the fading daylight. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to try to make things work with your new roommate—it was just that everything felt so much more difficult than it needed to be.

And for now, all you could do was wait for things to calm down.

[pombeom]

dear diary,

went to my best friends house and ended up with him fucking me so hard his dad yelled at us the next day. (its not my fault kais too big for me to stay quiet ;-;)

not my fault | kai fic (nsfw)

pairings: bsf! kai x reader, dom! kai x sub! reader warnings: slight exhibitionism?? (parents are in the house), blowjob, hard rough sex, name calling (he calls her a bitch once), nicknames, big dick kai, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), creampie, loud moaning, angsty ending a/n: i’m so so sorry to the anon who requested this literal months ago! but better late than never right?? this was meant for my 100 bash but that never actually happened because i only received 2 requests :( but i loved this idea so much i still wanted to write it and only managed to do it now.

Dear Diary, 

I said my final goodbye to my best friend today. We let ourselves get carried away in the heat of the moment and now we’re both paying the consequences. 

Kai, my best friend of 5 years, has been with me through thick and thin. From the day we met as flatmates at university, we’ve spent almost every waking hour together. I’m always at him place or he’s always at mine. On this particular occasion, I went over to Kai’s family home for our weekly movie-dinner night. Being the film fanatics we are, each week was one to look forward to. Usually, we’d be at Kai’s apartment but he’s visiting his family for the week and so instead of skipping movie night, he suggested I meet him at his parents’ place instead. Whilst I had met his parents before, we were never particularly close and so you can imagine how nervous I was to be meeting him there. 

I threw on a pair of pyjama shorts and and a T-shirt before heading over to Kai’s. Considering how I usually ended up sleeping over, I’d stopped bothering packing extra pyjamas and always went wearing my night clothes, to which Kai always accommodated to by also wearing his. 

I shake off any nerves and walk up to the front door of his house. It was much larger than I expected but the building was painted a modest cream with the door being a rich navy blue contrasting the lightness off the walls.  I could tell his parents valued interior decor. I knock on the door, awaiting someone to open the door. That someone ended up being his dad who welcomed me in with a gentle smile which I felt had stern undertones. I shook of that feeling upon seeing Kai peer out from the top of the stairs. 

He instantly gave me him usual hug and dragged me upstairs to his room, out of his dad’s disconcerting sight. His childhood bedroom, in contrast to the rest of his house, was exactly like how I’d imagined it to be. With a mixture of greyish blues, white and pops of orange, the style of the room matched his personality. I’m guessing he hasn’t really changed much since he was a kid, which I find really fascinating. 

I take my time to observe each and every detail of his room, scanning my eyes past his bookshelf filled with music books and manga. His drum set took up a significant sector of the space whilst his double bed is pushed against the wall in the corner.

After spending some time catching up, we get to the task at hand and head down to his living room to pick out a movie. I only had to beg for about 5 minutes before Kai gave in and let me pick “The Notebook” as our film for the week. It was either that or his choice “No one gets out” which I definitely wasn’t feeling up to. 

The next bit, I’m going to try and describe as best as I can but the moment was so fuzzy I might end up missing bits out. 

I’ve been infatuated by Kai for about a year now and my skittish feelings for him only grow with the more time we spend together. The way his presence just fills the room was all consuming. I loved having him around and I especially loved his witty comments during our movie nights. Most importantly, would always be moments when I’d catch him staring at me instead of the TV or our fingers and knees would occasionally brush causing little fizzles of electricity. But tonight something was different about him. He seemed to be a little bit more held back than he usually was. I’d assumed that being in his family home meant he was a little more reserved with his actions towards me. 

The movie progressed and I was intently watching Ally and Noah’s relationship grow. Toxic but desperate. Deep yet somehow shallow. Then came the awaited sex scene. Well not awaited exactly but you know what I mean… 

That scene got us both fidgeting. We tended to avoid any movies with such explicit content but this almost seemed to come out of nowhere and having not watched it before, we did not know what to expect. Kai grew even quieter, his words seeming to get stuck. The awkwardness stiffened the air so in order to resolve it, I decided to speak up. 

“So…how are you liking the movie so far?” I questioned, turning my head to face him completely. 

“Yeah, it’s good so far…Just wasn’t expecting to be watching a sex scene with you…” 

He was almost too honest because I’m pretty sure I turned red immediately. 

“Me neither.” I respond quickly, trying not to show my embarrassment. 

“I guess this sort of thing should be normal between friend though, right?” 

“Yeah I guess. Why would it not be?” 

At this point, we’d both drowned out the sound from the TV and we were almost lost in each other’s gaze. 

“Well if you want it to be normal, we can make it happen.” 

“Huh? What!” He reacted to my exclamation with a raised eyebrow, showing confusion at my extreme surprise. 

“What? Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, I just misunderstood what you meant… It was my fault.” 

“Misunderstand? What did you think K meant?” 

“It doesn’t matter. Leave it.” I try brushing it off but he was very obviously curious and once Kai was curious, there was no stopping him. 

“No, tell me. I want to know.” He kept pushing for an answer as he inched closer to me. 

“I just thought you said something about sex becoming normal between us…but then I realised the context and realised you meant us watching sex scenes in movies,” I whispered not wanting to be heard. But from his smirk, I knew he did. 

“I see. Well, do you want sex to be normal between us?” 

“What? Did I hear you right?”

“You heard me.” His suddenly emerged sense of confidence threw me off a little but Kai has such a dynamic personality, you never really know what to expect with him. 

“Umm…” 

“You’re hesitating? So does that means you’re considering it?”

“No! I was just thinking about how to answer your question.”

“It’s a simple question. Do you want sex to be normal between us? Yes. Or, no?” 

Mentally, I had thoughts racing through my head. I thought back on all the times of our lingering accidental touches or his gaze that falls upon me when he thinks I don’t notice. I wanted him then and I want him now. Definitely in a more than friends way. 

“Is it wrong that I want to say yes…” I barely finished the sentence before he cages me in between his arms and the couch, his breath now hitting my face. 

“So you wanna fuck me?” 

“Kai… I-“ 

His lips came crashing down onto mine as his hand pulls my face closer to his, deepening the kiss. It was filled with lust from the start. Not a pure innocent intention in sight. He devoured me and I let him. His tongue slid in and out as his other hand appears in my waist, squeezing it with his huge hands. 

When he pulls away, his sultry eyes settle on mine. I had never seen this side of him before. It was so new, but I liked it. 

“Let’s go upstairs or my parents will catch us. There’s still so much more I want to do with you.” 

His hand grabbed my wrist as he pulls me up to his room, pushing me against the door, as he closes it behind us. 

He interlocked his lips with mine once again, pressing me against the door whilst lifting my leg around his waist. The mere inches between us closed as I felt his body against me, his lower region in particular. 

I slid my hands up his white shirt, feeling his skin and muscles. Soon enough, I pull his shirt over his head as he follows and does the same with me. 

He pulled me over to his bed, pushing me down at the end of his bed whilst he towered over me ensuring I made eye contact his clothed crotch. I untied his plaid pyjama bottoms, pulling them down with his boxers  in one move, as his hard dick sprung onto his bare stomach. I’m certain I started drooling at the sight. He was long and extremely thick, the veins on his dick leading up to his swollen pink tip. 

“Wanna suck me off?” 

My head nodded automatically, all sense of shyness thrown out the window. I needed to taste him and that was all that mattered. 

I began by licking the slit on his tip, tasting his oozing pre-cum. 

“Fuck, stop reading and suck me off you bitch.” It was a name he only ever called me jokingly when we mess around but hearing him say it now had the slick dripping from in between my legs. 

Holding the base of his cock, I take his length in my mouth. He was too big to fit, hence my hands stroking him up and down to stimulate him more. 

“Mhm yes. That’s a good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

His hands wrapped around my hair, fisting it into a ponytale, using it to guide my mouth faster along his girthy dick. 

“Fuck yes! I’m gonna cum if you keep going like that.” 

I felt his cock twitch in my mouth and I prepare to take his load on my tongue, but instead he pulled out, depriving himself of his release. 

“I wanna feel inside you. Now pull your tiny ass shorts down and spread your legs open.”

I obeyed his words exactly, stripping myself of my shorts and opening my legs for him. My panties were absolutely soaked and the slick had ended up dripping down my leg. Before I could even finish processing this, I heard a sharp rip as a bolt of cold air hits my needy clit. He held up my ripped panties, dangling them in front of me as if it were his prize. 

He soon started moving his dick along my folds, collecting the wetness before slamming into me, hitting my g-spot immediately. I had to physically stop myself from letting out a moan by covering my mouth with my own hand. 

“Look at you. Scared you’re gonna wake up my parents with your slutty little moans?” 

“Kai please. Keep going.”

“Someone’s not as scared as she makes out to be then.” He teased, but he listened. 

Pounding into me as if he were some dog in a rut, each push had my eyes rolling into the back of my head. 

Somewhere down the line, I gave up on my attempts at silencing my moans, screaming as he thrusted sharply into my throbbing core. It’s not my fault he was too big for me.

“Your pussy is so tight. You’re taking me so well.” 

“Kai- fuck! You’re so big!” 

It must have boosted his ego because he began pounding into me as my moan escaped freely, my nails clawing at his back for some sense of relief from the overwhelming pleasure. My back arched moving me closer to his body and gave his better access for hitting even deeper. 

“Kai, I’m gonna cum! Please- keep going.” 

“Cum with me angel. 3, 2, 1, cum.”

I let go of my release, as  my orgasm rippled through my body as I shook vigorously. Our mixed cum leaked out from my pussy onto his sheets, making an even bigger mess. 

“Fuck. Kai. That was the best sex I’ve ever had. I don’t think I can give myself to anyone else but you,” my words came out amidst the huffing and puffing. 

“I’m guessing the sex is gonna become normal between us then. Just like you wanted it to.” 

“Pretty sure you wanted it to. Or else this wouldn’t have happened.” I said pointing to the mess in between my legs. 

Without any notice, he stuck his fingers between my pussy lips, gathering up our cum, bringing it up to my lips and he shoves them into my mouth. The sweet taste had me moaning against his fingers. I wanted him to have a taste too so I use my own fingers to get some cum, presenting it in front of him. He hand held mine, and he brought it closer to his mouth before taking my fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 

He then cleaned up and changed the sheets. I felt a little guilty that I wasn’t much help but my legs were so shaky that I could barely suffice to stand properly. Once his bed was clean, we both hopped in, cuddling each other to sleep. 

The screech of his bedroom door awakened the both of us, my fuzzy vision taking time to adjust to the brightness of the room. I could see clearly again but I wish I didn’t. His dad stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed as his face burnt with fury. Fuck. We were screwed. 

“How dare you! I am disgusted by the both of you! Do you really think fucking a girl in the same house as your parents was the wisest move Kai Kamal Huening?! That is fucking disrespectful and utterly disgusting behaviour from both of you! If I ever see you two hanging out again, I may have to take more extreme measures. I will not have my son fucking around with a girl especially when I am in the house! Do you understand?! Now leave!” His yelling echoed throughout the room, only enhancing the effects of his anger. 

His dad turns around, expecting my indecency as I get out of bed, wearing only Kai’s T-shirt. I abandoned my ripped panties and go commando by putting on my shorts and grabbing my own top. I looked back at Kai’s face once last time before grabbing my phone and basically sprinted out the house. I was embarrassed and felt as though I had been tormented by my worst nightmares. But, I knew Kai had it worst. I should have tried harder to stay quiet. I shouldn’t even started the conversation about the sex scene in the first place. And I definitely shouldn’t have encouraged him to make a move on me. I got in my car and raced home so I could go cry in the comfort of my own bed. 

Diary, whatever am I supposed to do now. I’d had the most incredible sex with Kai, but now it seems like all of it was pointless. Why did his dad have to hear us and call us out? Why did he choose to punish us like this? Have I really lost Kai because I chose to let my emotions control me? 

I’m so lost and confused. But at the same time, I keep replaying moments of last night. I can’t get over it. I can’t get over him. It was as if he was made for me and I, him. 

Maybe his dad will choose to forgive us. I’m going to hope. I won’t lose Kai forever. I’m going to find a way to make things right again. 

That’s all for now. I will write again if anything changes (for the better, hopefully).

-Xoxo, Y/n

[isa-ghost]

I think my final stance on the cQuackity finale is:

Should it have been done? Eeh. But is it valid to want to revamp what was previously done because the time period the prev happened in kinda sucked? Absolutely. As an artist, writer, and veteran roleplayer with 13+ years experience, I 100% understand why Q redid it and I respect that. He also has every right to close off the chapter of his mcrp journey that involved those shit people, especially Mr. Racist Ringleader, the way he did.

And with that in mind, the finale we got was the best it could be given... *stares at how, again, half the ccs involved with cQ's story suck.* Quackity shouldn't have to sit unhappy with something he did just bc he can't conclude it to the full extent it could've/should've been. I would've loved for him to be able to unpack everything he should've been able to. It just isn't possible bc people suck. At least Q cares enough to want to redo it in the first place, even if the redo maybe isn't better or whatever. Caring enough to redo it at all is more than could be said for quite a few ex dsmp members. :/

It 100% fit the character and people are being way too pearl clutchy about how not every character gets a happy ending. Listen man, I'm sick of mcrp stories ending with "and then I killed myself" too (/gen), but in cQ's case at least it's fitting. I haven't seen a single person that's mad about the ending suggest a better "happy" alternative that fits cQ as a character or is a choice cQ would Actually make. I'm not gonna write another whole analysis about why the ending makes sense again, go find that post. I could say more over there if it matters that much to someone, but I'm not gonna argue about it.

Also this might shock some people: *gasp* Quackity can do what he fucking wants with his characters. That doesn't mean you have to like it. What the fuck ever happened to "don't like it? Don't interact"?? I'm so tired.

I liked the finale and I think it fit cQ. It's not perfect by any means, but of the finales we've gotten after the tension of dsmp's fallout died down, it's a decent one.

People need to chill the fucking hell out, they have been WAY too hostile about the finale. I've seen people call Q a garbage writer, wishing he'd go broke, that he doesn't care about any of this (despite the fact that he was NEARLY IN TEARS because of how much these stories mean to him, especially cQ), that it was a ruse to plug merch, etc. Absolutely ice cold heartless garbage takes about Quackity. And some of them are from blogs who are supposedly fans of his bc their entire BLOG is decorated with him!!! Those are fucking nuts things to say about a guy you supposedly like!!!! You don't know someone's OC better than they do. Period. Fuck you, cope. I can't fucking stand people who feel entitled like that.

Anyway if you start shit on this post or with me I'm just blocking you. I'm not here to argue about this shit man, I'm just sick of people being so black&white and overly critical of shit so I wanted to air out the thoughts buzzing around in my mind so they stop driving me crazy.

Shout out to everyone who's actually capable of being nuanced and fairly critical of things they like without being a total fucking asshole that blows shit out of proportion and takes every little thing in bad faith to the furthest extreme.

[lena-thinks-too-much]

Some post death Jason things that fanon gets wrong

1. Talia kidnaps a catatonic Jason from the hospital (or in some versions his dead body)

While generally speaking this isn't that big of a difference, I recently read Red Hood: Lost Days and the way Jason ends up with Talia is actually really interesting.

Jason claws his way out of his grave, which is public and unmarked and wanders out of the grave yard. He's catatonic due to the brain damage from what joker did and kinda just wanders along the highway trying to make it back home. Meanwhile whoever's security at the cemetery find Jason's grave, assume it was caused by grave robbers and decide that they'd rather cover it up instead of get in trouble for letting it happen. While this is happening Jason get's hit by a car on the road and police are called. Because he's legally dead he they fail to id him and he's admitted to a hospital as a John Doe. He's in a coma for some time and once he wakes up, he promptly runs away and begins living on the streets in crime alley. At some point some big guy tries to pick a fight with Jason and his training kicks in. Jason does a flip and someone recognizes the move as Robin. This leads to Talia finding out that Jason is alive and that's how she ends up taking him to the league of assassins.

2. Ra's was involved with Jason's training

Ra's wasn't really for doing anything with Jason. Even less so when they realized he was catatonic. He kinda let Talia do whatever she felt like but after a few months of no improvement from Jason, he insisted she called the whole thing off because it was a waste of league resources. This is what spurs Talia into shoving Jason into a lazarus pit. Which just pisses off Ra's.

3. Jason's revenge plan was due to Talia's manipulation

While Talia did tell jason that he "remains unavenged" she also told him to "not seek him out". I've always assumed the antecedent to "him" was Bruce.

In fact Jason's little revenge arc is something Talia was super against. He does the whole bomb under the batmobile thing soon after getting out of the pit but he fails to actually go through with it. Because Talia doesn't actually want Bruce dead she decides to distract Jason by sending him to specialists around the world.

I'm not 100% sure why she later shows him the pictures of Tim. Because that's the point where she sleeps with Jason (which is already a weird choice), leaves him the helmet, and seems to know Jason's going to go back to Gotham with this information.

But generally Talia was trying to keep Jason away from Bruce until he calmed down - which, considering dude kept killing his teachers was definitely going to be a bit.

4. Jason and Damian met in the league

Okay I'll start this one off by saying I love the fics that do this, but there seem to be a lot of people who genuinely believe this happened. Sorry to burst your bubble guys, but outside of the young justice universe, it's quite literally impossible.

Jason was being sent to instructors around the world after coming out of the pit. In fact he was technically being hunted by Ra's for daring to use the pit. Talia herself barely interacted with Jason. Damian certainly didn't.

The argument could be made that Damian and Jason met before the pit but Jason clearly has memories from when he was catatonic and from what I know, he doesn't recognize damian when he meets him later on.

5. Pit madness

Look, there's nothing quite as tasty as a Titan's Tower AU where Jason's stalking through the tower hopped up on pit rage with glowing green eyes only to fully lose his anger at seeing Tim Drake being a disaster of a human. Literally my favorite trope of all time. I highly doubt there's a fic under this tag that I haven't read yet.

That being said pit rage or pit madness quite literally doesn't exist. The closest thing we get in the comics is a temporary burst of madness immediately following exposure to the lazarus pit. But it doesn't last. Definitely not as long as some people seem to believe.

Jason isn't the only person to use the pits in the comics. The Al Ghul's obviously but also bruce takes his own swim later on. But Jason's the only one people think have pit madness (and also Ra's Al Ghul but he doesn't count because there's no way you survive 7 centuries without going insane). The closest thing we see to pit madness in the comics is when Nyssa tortures Talia with her personal lazarus pit (that she experimented on) by repeatedly kiled and revived her until she quite literally breaks Talia's mind.

The pit madness that people attribute to Jason, however, most closely resembles the kind of bloodlust and animalistic behavior we see from people who use the lazarus pits in the Arrowverse, and no one is ever going to accuse that of being canon. So yeah these are just some things that while I actually quite enjoy reading in fanfics, they aren't actually true and it genuinely astounds me, how many people think it's canon and not fanon.

let me know if I missed any or got something wrong because I'm mostly working off my memorie for the red hood lost days references.

disclaimer: I'm fully aware that fanon ≠ canon. However these are things that I see a lot of fans treating as fact and that just generally irks me. Like I'm all for cherry picking the timelines and details that you like and adding your headcanons into the mix. It's the best part of fandom. But also I think it's important to at least be aware of what's canonical (although with DC that does generally turns into a mess)

[superkooku]

Look, this is us filling the Asclepius tag with ramblings :

Irl I'm super giddy right now !!

Honestly I was hoping this post would eventually reach someone else who wanted to ramble about Asclepius 🤣. Because oh boy ! These past few months I realized that he's actually very interesting but I couldn't find the opportunity to really start a discussion about him :3

Don't worry about the initial context, this post contains most of it. @kill-me-with-a-spoon and I began this in a comment section of this post :

I need a "read more" section because this is gonna be a long one.

First of all, calling Asclepius a crimebag is hilariously fitting. Not only did this man resurrect people and got punished for it, he casually does it again to a random woman. Not Coronis, not someone he knows, just a chick that the doctors decapitated to get some worm out and he was so exasperated by their stupid mistake that he just brought her back to life.

He's a criminal AND a recidivist. And Zeus just gave up at this point I think, because he was only punished once. He reminds me of Robin Hood in a way, an unrepentant criminal who helps people around him against an oppressive system.

Another figure he reminds me of is Prometheus. Seriously, I feel like Asclepius and Prometheus would be very good friends if they met, because they share a very similar philosophy of wanting to help mortals, being punished for it and still wanting to do it despite the risks, to push the limit and ultimately bring a wonderful gift to humanity, being heating and medicine. THAT and issues with Zeus 😂. He punished both of them for kinda the same reason. Maybe his grandson reminded him of Prometheus.

Now I'll try coming back to your points because there's so many things to say. I'll try respecting the order to hopefully make it easier.

You mentioned his birth and honestly it's so fascinating. Because, from the get-go, Asclepius cheats death, he runs away from it, he was supposed to die but thanks to Apollo's dad radar, he got saved.

Ok I know those are his ordinary god powers, but to me Apollo 100% has a sixth sense specifically warning him when his kids are in danger. I mean, look at what he said in the picture you sent !! It's clearly his fatherly instinct that drove him to do that, to save his innocent offspring from Coronis' punishment. And yeah, if he hesitated any longer, he would've lost one of humanity's biggest helpers, but most importantly his own son. And I feel like he would've hated himself for it.

This kinda reminds me of Zeus saving baby Dionysus once Semele died, also burnt, but because of his real godly form. It's a powerful way to connect Zeus and Apollo too.

Tying this unusual birth to his future activities is definitely a clever approach. Asclepius seems to fear death, even more than the average Greek. But, contrary so Sisyphus, he doesn't selfishly try to cheat his own way out of the Underworld. Or to extend his youth. Quite the contrary. He uses it to help his fellow mortals, exposing himself directly.

I'll jump to the end of your post to talk about his altruism but I'll come back to previous points. Asclepius committed a very unique kind of hubris. It's not a "I'm better than the gods" thing but a "I'm more helpful than the gods". He saw that none of them, including his own father, went out of their way to undo death. So he did it. And again, he didn't just go and resurrect Coronis or Phlegyas or any family member. I feel like he was given missions, given how random the people on the list are. And he dutifully accepted them. Like a god being prayed to, even by an Olympian deity like Artemis ! And THAT pushed another limit.

The random woman myth is so important because it shows that Asclepius doesn't only resurrect kings and princes, but also regular people. He didn't seek glory or anything, he just did his best to achieve his goals of helping those around him.

You worded everything about the Apollonian family line and the egregious pursuit of curing death so well !!

Even if it wasn't explicitly said, it would still be so blatant that Asclepius was raised by his father, because they have similar tendencies. They have this same stubborn drive to act on their principles, even if it involves disobeying other gods.

There's also this negative relationship with death, wanting to preserve the life around them and grieving when they can't (except Asclepius didn't accept this last part and went on to undo it).

Plus some gremlin energy and the staff from uncle Hermes 😂. Hermes was also said to help Apollo save him and since he collects human souls, he'd 100% be there in his birth to have Coronis AND in Asclepius' death.

Speaking of gods, yes he had godly support, through Athena and Artemis. Heck, even what you said about Zeus tolerating occasional resurrections fits because otherwise, Asclepius would be dead before even trying.

That whole thing about oppression and death is spot on. Coming back to Hippolytus, his demise was very unfair. A result of Aphrodite's spite in front of his indifference, Phaedra's maddening love and Theseus being Theseus. Asclepius seized the opportunity to restore his life and stolen youth. Hippolytus doesn't die again afterwards, at least not from some extraordinary reason. He probably passed from natural causes at a natural age.

But then comes the money thing. It's so interesting because it brings another nuance to his character. The desire and need for money is purely human, gods don't need it. He's only a mortal and this is a proof of it. Why was he "enthralled" by money ? He doesn't seem specially greedy. Maybe it's because he needed it to maintain equipment, buy more resources so he can do his job even better. Maybe it's because he isn't said to be paid anything for helping people, and even if he's a prince, he didn't live with Phlegyas (Coronis' dad) but in the fields with Chiron. So maybe he wanted better life conditions. Or maybe money to pass on. Idk, honestly.

There's so much more stuff to say but I'll let you with this. You're welcome (and encouraged) to answer any time you want. I'll probably post more about Asclepius in the future, so tell me if you want to be tagged.

Who did Asclepius resurrect ?

A couple days ago, I discussed the idea of mortals defeating gods with @kill-me-with-a-spoon on a comment section of my "thoughts on Epic" post.

We talked about Diomedes and Perseus briefly, but then a third example came in : Asclepius.

And I find this specific mention interesting because I didn't think about it but it kinda makes sense 😂

He didn't defeat any god like the two former heroes, that being physically overwhelming them. Instead, he simply "cures" death, thus Thanatos' doing. Not only his, but the Fates' too considering they cut the thread of life. And he meddled with Hades' realm, something that he hated and we know how that ended.

(Hades hating doctors will never not be funny)

I made some research on him for personal projects and so I want to use it right now for personal ramblings about who exactly Asclepius resurrected.

@kill-me-with-a-spoon was pointing out that if, by technicality, he didn't interfere with Hades' domain if souls he resurrected didn't cross the Styx. And I've got to say, I think he did.

Also, I completely agree with the fact that they're still killable. They won't die from the same cause since Asclepius heals their injuries but he doesn't deify anyone.

If we look up different sources, here's the list of people he resurrected.

Hippolytus (according to Pausanias and latin sources like Pseudo-Hyginus or Ovid)

What makes this particularly interesting is that Artemis is the one who has this idea. It shows that portraying her as a man hater is completely wrong since she asks her male nephew to resurrect her male friend/devotee. It shows her bond with Hippolytus (his death was very unfair, so I get it) and with Apollo too, since she trusted her brother's son completely.

Then, it's just funny but in-character that Theseus isn't the one who has the idea to resurrect his son, because of course he wouldn't think about it 😂. It's even funnier if we take late sources stating that Asclepius was among the Argonauts. Because Theseus was too, so they knew each other personally and yet Theseus couldn't think about it.

Another detail : Hippolytus seems to forgive Theseus in Euripides' play, but NOT after coming back to life in Pausanias' version. Different versions, I know, but if we mix the two, then we could interpret that maybe all this time in the Underworld gave him the opportunity to think about it, or maybe, with a new chance to live, he doesn't want to stay with his father.

I get you, Hippolytus. Go have fun.

Capaneus (according to Stesichorus)

What's interesting here is how Capaneus died : he participated in Polynice's siege against Thebes but was killed... by Zeus. He was struck by lightning because of hubris.

And then Asclepius comes and resurrects this guy. All the more reasons for Zeus to be angered. That means he came in and decided to undo divine punishment, the same one that will be his own doom in the future. It's pretty chilling for me.

Lycurgus

So, there are a lot of Lycurguses in mythology.

In the beginning, I thought it was Lycurgus of Thrace, which would've been hilarious because if this guy comes back to life, he'll come back traumatized and insane (also, any grapevine would be the source of PTSD flashbacks). And again, that would've mean undoing divine punishments.

BUT it seems to be a separate Lycurgus that was resurrected. Not the one who offended Dionysus.

It's also not Admetus' brother of the same name, though the logical link would've been easy to make (because of Apollo's servitude and Admetus also being an Argonaut according to some sources).

Honestly, Wikipedia is the only place where the Lycurgus that Asclepius resurrected is distinguished. Even then, the article speaks of a probable case and lists Apollodorus as a source. So not even researchers are completely sure of which Lycurgus it was.

Hymen/Hymenaios : yeah, according to the Orphics, he resurrected some guy named Hymen, even though the only figure with this name is a god... it would've been very interesting to analyze if I had more details about it. Unfortunately, there aren't really.

Tyndareus

Glaucus : It's funny how Asclepius resurrects both Theseus AND Minos' son. Though that exploit is more often attributed to the prophet and healer Polyidos. I wonder if there was some untold teacher-student relationship between the two, since Asclepius is one of the inventors of medicine (with Chiron)

And then there's this woman :

This cracks me up, because this little story alone states that Asclepius as a GOD still resurrects the dead even though he was punished for it. Tbf, he probably had to explain this to Zeus, that he had to compensate his partners' mistake. Still, that's hilarious that not even divine might stopped him.

Don't tell me he didn't know what he was doing. He's a smart guy and his father is literally mr. God of prophecy. I like his audacity.

So, coming back to the initial subject, with the sheer number of mentioned names, I do think they had the time to be buried and cross the Styx (except Capaneus, who was probably turned into ashes lol).

Asclepius definetly meddled with Hades' domain, thus angering the god of the dead and he 100% provoked Zeus.

But, not all the gods were agaisnt him. If we take the version where he resurrects people with gorgon blood, then Athena, who gave it to him, was in favor of his operations.

Then, there is Artemis who asked him to bring back Hippolytus and finally, quite obviously, his n°1 supporter is his own father Apollo (oh god, I could make a whole new post rambling just about Apollo and Asclepius).

So yeah, I really like this myth for many reasons and this is one of them : how it's tied to many other stories, how different figures behave and react to Asclepius' antics, how it puts the system of life and death into questions, etc...

Anyways, if you have anything to comment on about this myth, don't hesitate. I'd love to discuss it more !

My main source about all of this was Theoi.

[karofsky]

I'm almost positive I made a post about it recently but I will be genuinely upset if they roll back on Guillermo wanting to be a vampire 😩

[adustoflove]

Waking up at a brisk 6 am with bpd is like wow another beautiful day. I HOPE today is finally the day I die. I need to disappear. I am UNLOVED I am UNWANTED and I would be better off dead. Thank you, BPD who would I be without her

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[t4tdanvis]

so ur telling me a gay coded this guy?

[cryoweaving]

if hyv won't validate xiao's fear of causing harm with his karmic debt, i will. his karmic debt would absolutely harm caiying if she wasn't a vision holder.

[gingerbreadmonsters]

ginger, cracking an eyelid and thinking about opening requests for a little bit? its more likely than you think 👀👀

[littlepetbee]

not to sound like a judgy bitch but i literally have no idea how people go around not liking or getting pissed at/bothered by normal ass people all the time

[prettylittlcresources]

Hi! Quick question for y'all because I wasn't planning on sliding in with a gif pack til I'm on winter break, but I do have this one laying around right now:

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

fuckfest. the slytherins — groupsome / drunk sex.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: malfoy manor is a great place for drinks, laughs, and…. orgys?

warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUTTTTTT, porn with negative 100 plot, literally just sex and mentions of alcohol, group of uni students that love to consensually gangbang when they have the chance (sorry i’m cackling at that), pansy and reader kiss a few times, multiple orgasms from some of the boys, anal sex, fingering, oral.

Habits are simple, predictable things, slipping into your life without much thought. Some are reckless, some harmless. And some, well—some come with the taste of someone else's lips.

You're not sure when kissing Pansy Parkinson became one of them. What started as a drunken dare, a little more fun than you'd planned for, has now undoubtedly turned into something else—something almost close to ritual. With every night that stretches long, every round of drinks that comes too fast, it's inevitable that your lips will find hers at one point or another, like clockwork.

And a habit is just a habit, but this one—this one you never feel like breaking.

"You ever try body shots with tequila?" Pansy whispers, breath warm against your lips as her smirk hooks you, the same way it always does.

"Plenty of times." You grin back, your mouth barely brushing hers. "What, you want me to lay back for you, Parkinson? Shirt pulled down—or off?"

Theo whistles, and Pansy giggles. They've seen this before, watched it unfold in countless variations, yet it's still equally as entertaining every single time.

"Pull it down, take it off, whatever gets me there faster." She's already moving, grabbing lime and salt with hands that are too steady for how much you've all been drinking. "You know I won't complain either way."

You pour her a shot, liquid gold catching the dim light in the room. You feel the weight of every inebriated gaze on you—Draco, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, Theo—all of them watching, same way they always do when you and Pansy put on a show.

You blink and she’s back in front of you, lime and salt in hand. You feel bold, drunk on the moment as you hook your fingers under the hem of your shirt, leaning into her kiss only to break it as you pull the fabric over your head. The boys shift around you—more whistles—and Pansy's hands find your face, greedy and gentle all at once, barely giving you a moment to toss the shirt aside before she nudges you onto your back.

"You're so fucking hot," she purrs, slinking between you and the boys who are seated around the table, grinning. "Tilt your head, that's it—here—"

She nestles the cool shot glass between your tits while sprinkling the salt on your neck—then, the lime slice is between your teeth before you can even register it, and now you're staring straight at Blaise—his dark eyes roving over you like a feast, lips parted just enough that you can imagine the feel of them pressed against your own.

Your thighs tense, heat pooling low in your stomach.

"The boys wanted a show," Pansy whispers as she pulls off her own shirt. "They'll get one."

You hum in agreement and she works like she's done this a hundred times— shot glass disappearing between her lips, tossing the tequila back before she sets it aside— warm tongue dragging along the line of salt on your skin, moving up to suck juice from the lime between your lips. She meets your eyes for what feels like a split second before the lime is yanked free and her mouth is on yours, lips tasting like tequila and salt and something wild—

You close your eyes against the flood of sensation—the alcohol, the heat, the spinning of the room—and kiss her back with equal fervour. Her lips crush yours, sloppy and wild, a thousand impulses spinning through your mind and inevitably, you're too weak to fight them, tugging her closer as a result.

Pansy huffs, fingers curling into your hair as she crawls on top of you—straddling your hips on top of the table as one hand slips down to your chest. The boys are muttering things that you can't hear as the kiss is frantic now, teeth grazing, tongues tangled, the taste of lime and tequila lingering in each exhale.

"Gods, Pansy," you gasp into her mouth, hands sliding down her waist, digging into the fabric of her skirt. "You're insatiable."

She pulls back just enough to smirk, breathless, her dark eyes glinting. "I could say the same about you, babe."

You feel the tension in her greedy fingers as they curl against your scalp, her weight pressing you down into the table, and suddenly—all the teasing, all the playing at flirting feels too far away—you need her closer, need to take control back, need to feel her beneath you instead of towering over you—

"Pans—" your hands find her hips, gripping tight as you push against her, trying to flip her onto her back—but in your haste, you misjudge the edge of the table and before you can stop her she's tumbling forward, off the side, straight into Draco's lap. "Oh—shit—"

Everyone gasps, the room pausing for a moment and you're vaguely aware of Blaise's hands clutching your waist, pulling you steady into his lap as you teeter off the table too, the tequila making your head spin. Pansy is sprawled over Draco on the floor, skirt hitched high enough to give the rest of you a perfect view of her ass—to which everyone in the room is admiring. Shamelessly.

It's a spectacle—and the boys have always loved a fucking spectacle.

"Merlin's sake—" Draco grunts as Pansy slumps over him, straddling his waist. You catch the way his hands grip her thighs, fingers flexing like they don't quite know what to do with themselves. "Always the bloody dramatics with you two.”

"I'm not even sorry." Pansy grins, unrepentant as ever as she leans into Draco's neck, teasing like nothing's even happened, like she's perfectly content to remain there, straddling his lap. "You make a good seat."

Draco scoffs, and Theo snickers from across the table.

"You're a menace." The words from Draco's lips sound a lot like praise, and something about the way his eyes flutter shut when Pansy's tongue finds the sensitive skin at his throat makes your mouth go dry. "You're alright, though?"

"Fine," she murmurs, though her tone suggests she's thinking of anything but her well-being. "Totally fine." Her fingers brush over his chest, tracing the buttons of his shirt. "Are...are you fine?"

"I'm—" his voice catches when her fingers undo the first button. "I'm fine."

"You are," she agrees, voice a little hoarse, as she undoes the second, then the third. "Very, very fine."

Draco's face flushes, and there's a sheepish edge to his smile as his hands—almost without thought—begin to slide higher, fingers trailing under the hem of her skirt, pulling it just a little further up her hips. Her eyes flutter closed for just a second as he settles over the curve of her ass, and there's a spark, a shiver of something between them—

Your gaze flicks to Blaise, feeling his presence at your back—solid, grounding, the warmth of his chest pressed against you as you lean into him. You don't have to see him to know he's watching, though you find the confirmation anyways, his dark eyes tracing every movement, every shift between the two heated Slytherins on the floor.

When you glance back, you see the boys are all watching, too—Theo, Enzo, Mattheo—all glued to the sight, silent in their anticipation.

Pansy grinds down, and Draco's head tips back, eyes closed, hands clinging to her hips, her ass, anywhere he can find—

"They don't waste any time, do they?" Blaise murmurs, words a tickle at your pulse, the sound of his voice pulling you back into your own body, your own skin.

You shiver as his fingers trail lightly up your ribs, teasing the edge of your black lace bra—you tilt your head and you catch Theo's gaze sliding over you, flicking back and forth between Pansy's legs and the way Blaise's hands have begun their slow exploration along your sides. You grin as you meet Enzo's eyes next, his lip pulled between his teeth, fingers tracing the rim of his cup—

"You could take notes, Zabini," you murmur, the words catching in your throat as his lips graze your shoulder—so close, too close.

"Me? Take notes?" He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the spot just below your ear. "I've already got it down to a science, baby.”

"Yeah?" You hum, lost in the feel of his mouth on your skin, the way his fingers are edging dangerously close to your breasts. You can feel Mattheo's gaze, burning into you from across the table, but you don't dare look, you'd crack if you did. "You sure about that?"

"Quiz me if you'd like." As if to prove his point, he pushes past the fabric of your bra, long fingers finding a nipple, and your hips twitch of their own accord, a gasp leaving your lips.  "I'll pass any test you give me."

"Cocky." There's a slight edge to your voice as you roll your hips, meeting his heat with your own—just to distract him, of course. "You're gonna' make the others jealous."

"They'll have their fun," his finger toys with the clasp of your bra, now. You feel him undo it. "I want you first."

"Oh," you gasp at the sensation of cool air against bare skin as he yanks it off your arms, exposing your tits to everyone at the table. "Cocky and greedy."

"You'd expect nothing less, baby." He practically growls.

You choke on a moan. "Blaise-"

"That's my name," he's groping, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to make you squeak. "I know you're real familiar with it."

Pansy's moans, soft and breathy, fill the space as Draco works her out of her skirt, mouth moving between her thighs. You clench—seeing them—her fingers in his hair, her gasps growing louder and more frantic—your pulse quickens—

"Jealous?" Blaise's taunts, having caught you staring.

You shake your head, but—Merlin, how could you not be? You'd give just about anything to relieve the heat between your thighs. To feel the heat of all the eyes watching you right now against your skin. Mattheo, Theo, Enzo—

"Not jealous." Even you can hear how breathless you sound. "Just impatient."

"Patience is a virtue," Blaise says, all mock-virtuousness, squeezing your tits again, as if to punish you for being impatient. "One I'm happy to reward—"

Mattheo is the first to snap, shoving the half-empty bottle of alcohol aside and standing up, chair scraping across the floor. Theo considers doing the same, you can tell, eyes still glued to your half-naked body as he drains his cup in one gulp. Your eyes flick to Enzo, who's merely staring, his lip still being bitten to death between his teeth.

Merlin help you.

Mattheo strolls around the table—eyes roaming as he moves, stopping just behind where you sit on Blaise's lap, breath warm on the back of your neck as he murmurs in your ear—

"I've been patient." You think it's to Blaise. "Where's my reward."

Blaise snorts, and then Theo stands up.

"We've been patient." He's looking at Blaise, lips just starting to grin. "Real, real patient."

Enzo laughs as he rises, too—all three of them forming a loose semi-circle around you and Blaise. You can almost taste the testosterone—hot and eager and hungry—as their eyes rake over you.

Blaise tugs you closer, his hands sliding down to your hips. "I'm feeling outnumbered."

"You're outnumbered," Theo agrees, smirk growing as his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you off Blaise's lap and to your feet. "You're also outvoted. You think we're going to just sit around and watch?"

"Not a chance in hell," Mattheo growls as he moves behind you, calloused hand running up your thigh.

Blaise grunts from where he's still seated, watching you with molten eyes, "you lot are animals, you know that?"

You almost laugh at that, considering he had your bra off in minutes.

"We're just—eager." Theo whispers, leaning in just enough to breathe against your neck, kissing a path up your jaw while Mattheo's hands work at undoing your skirt. You're so turned on you're not sure how you're not dripping down your thighs. "I wanted to be inside you three fucking hours ago."

You whimper at his words, the thick air of the room suddenly too much as Mattheo's hands push your skirt down your legs.

"Three hours is generous." Enzo's moving now, but he isn't looking at you—his eyes are locked on Pansy as Draco slams into her—the two of them locked in a trance. "My head's been filled with filth since this afternoon."

"Filth?" Blaise cocks an eyebrow. "Is that what you're calling it now?"

"Filth," Mattheo husks, and his hand comes up to wrap around your throat—lips pressed to your ear. "All I've been able to think about for the past week."

Your hips twitch at the pressure against your throat—and you moan louder than Pansy. "Gods—if one of you doesn't fuck me in the next minute—"

"Told you," Blaise chuckles, watching Mattheo's hand around your throat like a hawk. "Animal."

"Then what?" Mattheo ignores him—fingers pressing against your pulse just a little harder as he pulls you flush against him, teeth finding your ear, and you feel Theo's fingers trail down your front, teasing your slit. "What're you gonna do?"

"Fuck," you mutter, breathless, hips jerking toward the touch. "I'll die—"

"Oh, that's not good." Enzo's looking now, circling around to stand on your free side, his gaze traveling from your face, down your body, to where Theo's fingers are centimetres from pushing into your soaked cunt. "Is it our responsibility to prevent that?"

"Probably. It's only the right thing to do." Mattheo's cooes against your neck. "Can't have you dying on us, now can we?"

"Mm. Not the only," Theo murmurs, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes a finger inside you. "I can think of a dozen things to do right now."

"A dozen?" Blaise scoffs. You're starting to hate the sound of his teasing fucking tone. "Only a dozen?"

You can't even reply—any words you possess are swallowed by another moan as a second, then a third, of Theo's fingers push deep into you. Even his fingers are long, you think. You forgot just how big—

"Merlin, Theo—fuck—"

"That's the idea," he grins against your lips—you moan again when his fingers curl deep.

"You like that?" Mattheos hands are all over you—your tits, your ass, the press of his chest against your bare back—and you think that you need to see his face, need to see his eyes. "You need more?"

"Yes." You're not sure if you're speaking to Mattheo, or Theo, or Enzo or Blaise, or all of them. "Yes, please—please—"

"Oh good," Blaise muses. "She's polite."

"Of course she is," Theo groans as your cunt clenches around his digits—your slick sounds filling the space between you, mingling with the sound of skin smacking from a few feet away. "So good for us."

"Mm," Mattheo adds, teeth scraping over your shoulder, squeezing your ass to make you gasp. "Very."

"A real angel," Enzo purrs, still circling like a fucking shark, eyes flitting over to Pansy and Draco again as her moans grow louder, more insistent. "Especially when she's begging."

It's all too much—Theo's fingers pumping deep, his thumb swirling your clit, the sounds of Draco and Pansy and the feel of hands and lips and intoxicated eyes everywhere—

Your head falls back against Mattheo’s shoulder. "Oh, please—fuck—please—"

"What're you begging for, Bellissima?" Theo murmurs, drawing your eyes back to his. "Wanna use your words?"

You gasp as his fingers move faster, deeper, as if he's trying to pull the words out of your throat. "Need—"

Blaise snickers. "Yes?"

"Need to cum—" you cry out, hysterical as Mattheo pinches your nipples, groans against your neck. "Need to be—fucked—"

"And I'm the greedy one." That's Blaise again, insufferable as ever.

"We like greedy," Theo grins against your mouth, fingers crooking, and your knees buckle. "Right, boys?"

"We do," Mattheo growls.

"We like it a lot," Enzo agrees, his eyes finally meeting yours. "We love it."

"Then what're you waiting for," you gasp, unable to take much more of the heat building, twisting, every point of contact sending a new wave of need through your body. "Give it to me—"

"Give you what?" It's Blaise again—God, he's driving you fucking insane tonight. "You gotta be more specific, babygirl."

"Give—ohh—" your orgasm is right there. Right. Fucking. There. "Give me your fucking dick, Zabini—fuck—you called first—"

"Oh I did, didn't I?" Blaise still hasn't moved from his seat, but you can see the way his trousers are straining. "Guess it's my lucky day."

Theo lets loose a groan, and you can feel his hips jerking in rhythm with his fingers. "Thank Merlin for small favours."

"Lucky for all of us, really." The corner of Blaise's mouth twitches, almost with the suggestion of a smile. "Don't you think, Enzo?"

Before you can even comprehend Enzo's response, Theo curls his fingers just right, thumb rubbing your clit just right, Mattheo groping your chest and kissing your neck just fucking right—and then you're there—climax charging you, release spilling all over Theo's fingers—

"Oh, fuck—yesyesyes—"

You cry out and shudder forward, only being held up by Theo and Mattheos hands, and you're barely back on earth before you feel Blaise's fingers under your thighs—urging you back and laying you out across the table as if you're a fucking feast for him—

"Patience," Blaise grins down at you, hands finding your thighs, squeezing hard enough to drag you back to reality and realize he's got his trousers undone. "Is really such a virtue."

"Right," you mumble, still breathless as you look up at him. "Too bad I'm fresh out."

Blaise chuckles at that. "I can tell."

Fuck this—

"Blaise—if you don't fuck me right now—" you push up from the table, urging him back into the chair he was sitting in. "I will let everyone else fuck me first and make goddamn sure you watch."

There's a flicker of surprise in Blaise's eyes as he slumps back in the chair—Mattheo snorts behind you and for a second you wonder if you may have just gone too far—

"Not a chance," he smiles, his words coming out in a growl that's all heat and lust and something just a little dangerous. "We'll have none of that."

And then, he's on his feet again. But this time, when he touches you, it’s firm and fast and not at all gentle. He directs you around the table before bending you over it, and you hear someone—Theo, you think?—groan like they're in pain, the sound swallowed by a desperate moan that you know for certain is Pansy's.

Your eyes flutter when you hear it—you just don't know where to look—

"No, look up. Up." Blaise's hand is in your hair, forcing you to look up from the table, and you realize where the sound came from. "I want you to watch."

Your head's spinning in a way you're sure is not entirely from the alcohol, and it only intensifies when your eyes focus on the scene just across the room—Draco and Pansy sprawled on the couch, now, Pansy riding him while stroking Enzo's insistent dick, his glossed eyes glued to yours, watching, just watching—

Blaise's hand is still in your hair. "That's it. Watch."

Enzo smiles at you, cheeky and fucking taunting before Pansy tightens her grip while jerking him off and his head tips back—

"Gonna' be good for me," Blaise murmurs against your back—his tip pressing against your dripping entrance. "Gonna' take it all for me?"

"Yes," you gasp, catching a glimpse of Mattheo and Theo just off to the side of you, sharing a smoke. "Fuck yes—"

"That's it, baby. Just relax," he cooes, and then he's pushing into you. "Relax and enjoy it—"

There's a sting as he stretches you, and keeps stretching you until he's bottoming out far fucking deeper than you'd remembered—there's a moan from you that gets tangled between your teeth, a gasp from infront you, a moan from someone else, and—gods, if Blaise doesn't start moving—

"Blaise—oh, fuck—"

Blaise gives a low moan as your walls flutter around him, a swear under his breath that's punctuated with a hard squeeze of your hip. "Good—god—Merlin—"

He pulls out just enough to make you cry out, shameless—and it melds with Pansy's from across the room.

"Shh," Mattheo steps infront of you, blocking your view of Pansy and Draco and Enzo. "Let Blaise feel you—"

—and suddenly, Mattheo's hand is on your jaw, forcing your head back, coaxing your eyes to his. His other hand disappears, down past his belt, and you moan again—wet walls squeezing Blaise as he slowly starts to rock into you.

"I wanna' fuck your throat," Mattheo murmurs, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. "Badly."

"So needy," your words are a breathless moan, but Mattheo doesn't seem to mind—he just grins as he unbuttons his trousers. "Can't even watch for five minutes without—"

"I know, I can't," he interrupts, and his hand's back at your jaw, gripping hard. "You've got me too fucking hard."

You're about to reply with another smartass comment, but Theo saddles up next to his fellow Slytherin and before you can blink his hand is on the back of your head, tangling in your hair, angling your lips toward Mattheo's now-exposed cock—

"Don't worry about the smart mouth," Theo leans down close to you, every intention of cutting off your reply. "We have other uses for it."

You'd probably roll your eyes at the phrase if it wasn't for Mattheo's dick pushing past your teeth and hitting the back of your throat so quick you gag— eyes squeezed shut as Blaise bottoms out, again and again.

"That's one of them." he adds with a smirk, watching you choke on his best friends dick.

You can't even think. Every thought that enters your head is immediately replaced with another moan, another sensation, another need, another—

"Draco! Fuck!" You hear Pansy cry out from the couch.

"Keep going, Pans," Enzo grunts, his voice sounding choked. "Just like that."

"She taking you good, Blaise?" The question comes out in a moan of his own—you think it's Draco—and you wonder idly who's doing what over there now. "Tight as I remember?"

“Tight and wet and—fuck—" Blaise's voice has taken on a new level of strangled, desperate, need that's almost too raw to hear it, and— "she's—good. She's good."

"That's it," Draco grunts again, like he's pleased to hear it. "She's an—oh, yes, Pansy, fuck—"

The noise from the couch is too much—you're not able to think past the fullness—the desperate, overwhelming heat that's consumed you, and that's when you feel a pair of lips at your ear—

"Does it feel good?" Theo's words are barely louder than a whisper, your gagging sounds almost drowning them out. He grabs your hand, slowly bringing it to his crotch. "Having us like this?"

Your fingers are clumsy, shaky as they wrap around him and try to push his trousers down—it's hard to see past the water in your eyes but once you do you're rewarded with a gasp and a low swear under his breath that sounds so damn good you want to hear it a million times more.

"Mmmfff." You moan around Mattheo as Blaise's fingers find your clit, coaxing you towards a high you're not sure you can handle—

"That's it," Theo whispers, moving your hand just the way he likes it. His fingers are tangled with yours while his free hand finds your hair again, shoving you closer to Mattheo. "Fuck. That's it."

Everything is spinning and whirling in the best way, the best possible way, and you know you're there, so close, but it's so hard to think, so hard to do anything—when—

"You gonna' cum for us, baby?" Another pair of lips at your ear, not Theo's voice, but Blaise's—ragged with his deep thrusts. "Gonna' cum for us good and hard?"

Your response, which most likely would have been something along the lines of: "yes" or "please" or "gods yes fucking please," is completely smothered by Mattheo—his hand at the back of your head alongside Theo's, fingers tangled in your hair, cockhead slamming the back of your throat over and over and over—

"Then do it," Blaise knows your answer anyways. His fingers rub quicker, his hips piston faster. "Now."

And it's in this moment where you lose yourself completely—the world narrows down to your body, every sensation flooding through you, and the fucking sounds—Pansy's moans, Theo's groans, Blaise's pants, Mattheo's swearing, Draco's whimpers and Enzo's fucking grunting—where you can't do a goddamn thing to stop it, not that you even wanted to. You do what Blaise told you, cumming so hard you see stars behind your eyes, and for one blissful, everlasting second—you feel nothing but pure unadulterated pleasure, until it all comes rushing back with force.

You think you hear Theo say "good girl" as your body tenses—shaking, trembling, clenching around Blaise so hard his pace falters and his hips slow and his thrusts turn erratic—and then you feel it—the result of his pent up passion as he slows to to an absolute standstill—spilling his cum deep into your cunt while he shudders against you, gasping out a curse that might have been your name.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, slowly—carefully—and you feel him pull out of you just as Mattheo moans, hands tightening in your hair, spilling his own release down your throat. "Oh, sweet Merlin."

It takes a moment for reality to filter back in, and you try to catch your breath in a way that's probably not very dignified. You're not quite sure what to do with yourself—and quite frankly, you're not given the chance to figure it out as Mattheo pulls out too and Theo slips up behind you—

"Come here, Bella," he murmurs, his lips at your ear again—he sounds like he's trying to catch his breath, too. Through the fog you remember that at one point you were jerking him off—and you feel the confirmation of his need still hard against your ass as he pulls you up against him. "There we go. Easy now."

You try to speak—you're not sure what you would even say—but your voice is as shaky as the rest of you, and all that comes out is a soft moan.

"She's—" Blaise's still trying to steady his breath as he slumps into his prior chair, trousers still half undone. "—she's on mars."

"I've a feeling we all are," Theo mutters, holding you against him. His fingers skim down your stomach, almost like he's mapping out the aftershocks. "Some more than others."

You can almost feel the way his eyes flick across the room with that—noting the way Draco's splayed out on the couch next to Pansy who's now riding Enzo and jerking a still half-hard Mattheo—

"Oh, relax," Draco scoffs, eyes shut and head tipped toward the ceiling. "I'll rejoin the land of the living in a moment."

"Sure, Draco," Mattheo huffs, and you can practically hear the roll of his eyes from here. "We'll be here when you do."

"Mm—fuck, Pansy—"

Enzo's moan cuts through their bantering and it's at that moment where Theo finally decides he's waited long enough—he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the table, directing you to the couch where he slumps down and drags you into his lap, your thighs on either side of his—throbbing, leaking cock pressing against your cum soaked cunt.

You moan, and Pansy moans beside you.

"I think," Theo murmurs into your neck, his words as thick and as needy as his hardness, "I could get used to this."

"S'that right?" You try to keep your words cool, to be as unaffected as you'd like, but—there's no hiding the way your breath hitches, the way you move your hips just the slightest in his lap. "I can't say the same about your size."

"Take me at your own pace." He husks, a smirk you're sure is attached to the words. "I'm halfway there already from that handjob."

You'd laugh at that if you weren't still so breathless and shaky from before, so instead the laugh comes out as a needy moan as you slide forward, shifting in his lap until you feel his tip brush up against your already sensitive clit—

"Gods," you breathe out the word, bracing your hands on his shoulders. "Such a gentleman."

"Always," he replies, completely sincere just before his hands grab your hips and in one quick motion—he's guiding you down onto him. "Always for you."

You'd reply—you'd probably even say something that might be sweet, if you could, if the rest of the world didn't fade into a sort of pleasurable blankness as you sink down—down until the moan that leaves you is so unbridled that it should have been embarrassing if the whole fucking lot of you weren't so far passed embarrassment—because just the head of him is so thick and you're suddenly thankful Blaise stretched you out so deliciously because otherwise you think it'd be too much, too quick and—fuck.

You're still sensitive, and you know he can tell—

"Oh, she's tight." Theo's voice is low in your ear, his lips tracing your jawline. "Too much?"

"Never," you gasp out, offering some weak shake of your head. "Never too much."

He grins against your pulse, teeth scraping across your skin—

"Good."

He punctuates the word by sinking you down a bit more, the stretch of his shaft drawing out a moan from deep in your chest—

"And when it is?"

—he pauses, tightening his grip on your hips to pull you up slightly before sliding you back down—

"Tell me."

You're only half able to form the thought at this point—the other half of you is so preoccupied with the feeling of his hands holding you, his lips against your skin, his voice in your ear—you nod, anyway, and there's another moan from somewhere in the room—Enzo again, and it's more of a whimper than anything else.

"That’s it, Pansy, so good—"

"Feels good, Enzy?" Her response comes through gasps. "You like it like that?"

Blaise answers for them both—you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, slumped back in his chair with a new drink in hand. "Keep that up and he'll never leave that couch again."

"He's not the only one." Theo's words vibrate through you, and while you're not sure if it's the meaning behind them or the way they're sent deep into your neck with a hint of teeth, either way you have to swallow a moan before you can respond.

"Is that so?" You reply, doing your goddamn best to keep your voice steady as Theo's hips roll up into you again.

"It is so," he murmurs. "You think you can handle staying on this couch all summer?"

Summer. Hardly a week away. You think of the days and nights you're going to spend in this manor, in this room—in this room on this fucking couch—

His hands slip to your ass, guiding you up and down. "You think you could last another hour?"

"Mmm," you manage to get the sound out before he rolls up again, the perfect angle to hit that sensitive spot somewhere deep inside you and that's all you have to say before all other higher level thinking goes out the window. "Oh, Theo, you’re fucking deep—"

"I know," he replies, his breath harsh against your throat, his words lost between the moans you can't seem to keep from slipping out. "I know, bella, I know—"

Cocky bastard.

You lean down, pulling his head against your chest with hands in his hair and he follows. You'd think he'd try to pull back, just to say something witty with a smirk on his face—but instead he groans, his tongue flicking over your nipple and that's when you hear Mattheo grunt from somewhere beside you—

"Fuck me." His voice comes out as a gasp that he's struggling to keep from sounding strangled. Pansy's still lazily stroking him, multitasking while riding Enzo. "I'm so fucking hard again."

If you could manage a proper response, you might have said that was the idea—you'd probably have said something very clever about how you wouldn't mind letting him down your throat again.

You can still think, but the thought is a struggle, so all you manage is a breathless—

"Matt—“

"Mmm?" Hardly a hum—and for some reason it's so much more attractive than it probably should be. "Yes, princess?"

The way you shiver at the pet name is something you're going to have to examine at some point—not now, though, because if you have to put any more thought into any single thing you're going to explode.

"You—you—"

Theo interrupts before you can finish the sentence. "Fuck her, Riddle."

If Mattheo's surprise at Theo's apparent order is evident, it's masked by the moan he lets out as Pansy does something that must have felt especially good.

"I, fuck—I already fucked her throat, Nott. If you'd finish gatekeeping her—"

"She's got another hole, Riddle," Theo replies, with that self-assured tone that's too goddamn cocky to be legal and you wonder absently if he knows what it does to you as he gives a sharp, deliberate roll of his hips. "She can handle it, can't you, bella?"

You try to moan out an answer—you're sure there's a sound there—anything to let him know that yes, you not only can but that you're not sure there's anything you'd rather do—yet the words die before you can get them out as Mattheo is already moving—rough hands finding your ass, spreading your cheeks as he leans down to press a kiss to the dimples on your lower back. The sensation catches you off guard but you don't have time to think about that before you feel something wet—his saliva, you think—slick between your cheeks and then his fingers are there, rubbing and massaging against your tight hole—

And then, he's pressing a finger into you. "Oh—"

You're not even sure if your gasp is a reaction to Theo's movement or Mattheo's—all you know is that for a moment it all just combines into a whirlwind that seems to just drown all the oxygen out of your lungs completely—

"I know," Theo's breath is as laboured and rough as yours—the rumble of his words vibrating against your chest, your collarbone. "God, I know—"

"Jesus," another moan, strangled and needy, and it's not from you or Theo or even Enzo—it's from Mattheo. "Oh, this ass is tight—"

That's not something you're going to be able to get over—hearing that coming from him. "Oh fuck, Matt—"

"Mmm?" There's a smile in his voice—and you'd see it on his face if you were facing him, if all of his focus weren't so decidedly somewhere else. "You want me to fuck this perfect ass, don’t you?"

With that he pushes another finger into you while Theo wraps his arms around your waist to hold you steady to his chest. His hips cant up into you, and you swear you're on fire—Mattheo chuckles.

The sensation is so much you’re crying out again, his teasing turning infuriating. "You're a goddamn—ah—bastard—"

"Maybe so," he replies, with a smack to one of your asscheeks. "But a bastard that's going to—"

He stretches you out, pumping and scissoring slow, just as deliberate as everything else he does—and the moan you let out is enough to drown out whatever witty, dirty words you're sure he was going to follow that with—

"Fuck—fuck," the word is all you can manage as you brace your hands against Theo's shoulders, nails digging into his skin— "oh, fuck—"

Mattheo groans against your back and you swear it's intentional because he has to know what all of this is doing to you—what it's doing to Theo by association.

"Fuck, she likes that—" Theo's gasp hits you like a punch in the gut. "I should have—"

It's like there's a whole sentence, some snarky, perfectly articulate statement he had in mind, but whatever words it was comprised of are lost in the way he shivers—in the way his hips jerk more erratically due to how tight you're squeezing him—due to the way your walls spasm as Mattheos fingers keep pumping, stretching—

"Should have what?" It's a miracle you manage the words, and you're feeling particularly proud about the way it's more of a challenge than a question, even if it's half mumbled.

Whatever it is, he can't say it, and whatever retort you had for that is interrupted by the sound of a grunt—Enzo. His face is screwed up in pleasure, his breath is coming in ragged, uneven pants and there's a look in his eyes that looks distinctly broken.

Mattheo groans and pulls his fingers free. You feel the tip of his dick replacing them. "Can’t fucking wait any longer."

Enzo's eyes meet yours, then, and they're absolutely wrecked. "I'm going to—"

Pansy grins and moans out her reply. "Yeah, you are."

There's little else you can say—not that you'd have the words even if you weren't as lost as the rest of them. You just have a flash of thought about how you've never seen Enzo look like that before, open and vulnerable and completely at the mercy of whatever bliss he's riding right now, but then there's another feral moan escaping your lips—

"Oh, Gods, Mattheo!—"

Theo groans into your neck as Mattheo presses in and it takes merely two seconds before your eyes roll back—the way he sinks into your ass is a level of fullness you weren't sure you could reach, and even that's a thought that's too complex for you to process as your head drops, forehead pressed to Theo's shoulder.

There's a hiss from his lips, another muttered curse that you half catch as he bites at your collarbone, his hands moving back to squeeze your hips—

"Fuck, yes," Mattheo's voice sounds more strained than you've ever heard it. "Jesus Christ, that feels good—"

"Don't think the saviour would like you taking his name in vain," Blaise says, from somewhere in the room. "Not in this scenario at least."

No, he wouldn't, you think, but there's no way you've got the wherewithal to speak now—any focus you had is lost now that you're impaled on not one, but two cocks and it's like your entire nervous system's been turned over to the sensation of being so fucking full, so surrounded—of not being able to do anything except try to remember how to breathe.

It's not working very well.

"Mm," Theo's moans, fucking up into you nice and slow. "I think he'd understand."

"I think that's a rather blasphemous stance to take," Blaise replies. "Then again, given the scenario, perhaps that's not the most shocking revelation I've had of you all today."

"Blaise," Enzo groans, his tone somewhere between pleading and demanding. "Are you really going to try and have a conversation right now?"

"Just making an observation," Blaise says casually, and you swear that part of your brain that still functions can see the smirk plastered on his face in your mind. "Merely commenting about the depravity on display."

"Your commentary is duly noted," Mattheo breathes, his words punctuated by a low moan as he smacks your ass. "And dismissed."

There's a grumble of agreement through the room at that, including one from you, but all your words come out as a gasp—

Theo loves you like this. You can tell he's fucking savouring it. "That's it, bella. You don't need to do more than that."

Part of you wants to protest the statement, wants to argue that you have it in you to contribute more, but no matter how hard you try—and you do try—all that comes out around the moans is an inarticulate mess.

"Yeah, that's it," Mattheo groans, and you'd be embarrassed about how utterly ruined by all of this you are if you could focus on anything other than the two dicks pumping you in rhythm. "Just let me and Nott take care of your—mmf—tight fuckin' holes."

There's a whine that worms its way out of your chest and through your lips at that, and you don't know what it's begging for—just that it's begging, and all your mind cares about right now is that Theo and Mattheo understand that.

Theo's response is a moan of his own and a hand finding the back of your neck, his fingers wrapping around your hair. "So fucking wet—tight—"

"And taking us so goddamn well," Mattheo adds as one of his hands grab your ass again, spreading you open. "Fucking hell—I'm so close—"

"So are we," Theo responds for you, and the words are harsh and desperate and make your whole body shudder. "So—ah—so are we—"

The realization that he can feel how close you are makes you clench—walls fluttering around the both of them as they fuck you tempered—it’s only a few more seconds before you're seeing stars so bright you hardly register the sounds of Enzo and Pansy reaching their climaxes next to you—the feeling of Pansy crashing her lips to yours as she cums and moans into your mouth propelling you further over the edge, into your own ecstasy—

And if there were a way to describe it, you're sure you'd think of it later, but right now it's all just fire and lightning—pleasure wracking your body until you're certain you're not going to come down for hours. You can't really hear anything—just the rushing of your own blood pulsing in your ears—but as it starts to subside, your vision returns and the sound follows—your lips still pressed to Pansy's as Theo moans underneath you, spilling his release into your cunt while Mattheo is still thrusting slow—

"Oh my god," you gasp as you break the kiss, all of you breathing so hard you're sure it's going to take a while for the oxygen levels in the room to return to normal. "Oh my god, oh my god—"

"Mmm," is about all Theo seems to be capable of currently.

It’s a rare thing for him to be rendered speechless—and you'd grin at the knowledge if it weren't for Mattheo still thrusting deep in your ass—leaving Theo trapped inside your cunt, his length still twitching and throbbing within your walls.

"Still with us, princess?" Mattheo's chuckle is somewhat strangled, and the hand he's not gripping your ass with finds your hair again, tugging your head back to expose your neck. "You aren't done already, are you?"

If he expects—or even wants—an actual answer to that question, he's going to be very disappointed because all you can manage is a strangled half-moan that's a decent representation to how you're feeling right now—

"I think she's lost her words," Mattheo murmurs—and then it's like he realizes something. "Maybe we should test that."

"Wha—"

It's not a proper word, but you don't even have the chance to fully get it out before his hand in your hair is pulling your head back even further and you realize that at some point Pansy had gotten off of Enzo and he's now kneeling on the couch in front of you with his cum covered cock aimed directly at your lips—

"Clean me off."

It's another demand you'd probably be inclined to respond to with a snarky reply if you were at all confident in your ability to do anything other than open your mouth and let him press the tip to your tongue—

"Good girl," Enzo says, and the praise is delivered with that voice that sounds like it came from some dark place inside him, the one that's only ever really appeared in the privacy of these walls and with this group of people. "Taste your bestfriend on me, hm? You like that?"

It's a question you'd probably deny a few months ago, but that's not the case anymore—and you know that the answer would be obvious regardless, given how you've just proven you're more than happy to share them with her. So instead you give an answer that's a better representation of how you feel without having to admit it, and it only comes out as a hum of agreement as you taste her.

"I know you do," Enzo replies, and he's got that same smirk he usually has when he's got the upper hand, the one that usually makes you feel at least mildly put out—now it just makes you shiver. "Little slut."

Theo, who's still trapped underneath you and still half hard inside you, moans at that.

"Mmmm-" yes, you want to say, but you can't and the noise you manage instead, around the taste of your bestfriend on your tongue, comes out more like a whimper that has absolutely no business doing as much to you as it does.

Mattheo growls with a deep thrust into your ass, and the whimper turns into a whine as Pansy moves closer to you.

"You look pretty," she murmurs, her mouth pressed against your hair as Enzo pushes his dick deeper down your throat. "You look so fucking pretty right now."

There's something about that, the way her voice caresses the words, that makes something warm rush through you, wrapping around the bliss and squeezing until you're almost overwhelmed again.

Your eyes water, as you gag. "Mmgh—"

"Mhmm," her lips move down your cheek, next to your mouth where Enzo is still slowly fucking it, and it's like the action is deliberate—a way to show, without saying it outright, just how wrecked you are. "And you say I'm insatiable."

That's fair, because right now you're fairly certain you've never wanted something to continue forever quite as much as you do this, regardless of the fact that you know it's not practical.

"Ah, fuck—" Mattheo grunts with a messy thrust. “Oh, fuck—"

He's not the most loquacious person in the world but even he is having a hard time getting words out—and you're not much better, with the only sounds you're capable of making completely indecipherable even for you, let alone the rest of the room.

"Fuck—" with a final curse, he spills his release deep into your ass and Theo groans from under you as you clench as a result. "—yes."

The feeling of him twitching and spilling inside you makes you moan around Enzo, and he groans too—one hand tangled in your hair and the other tangled in Pansy's to keep her close—

"Mm, yes," Enzo moans now, jerking his hips toward your face. "Feels good—so good—“

—and close is an apt word because they're all close to you, all surrounding you—even Blaise and Draco's exhausted presence are felt in the background.

"I'm pretty sure she's gonna be sore for days after this," Pansy says, the words whispered. "I hope you all know—"

"I think she'll be thanking us for that," Theo replies before anyone else can. "In a day or two at least."

Pansy giggles, a sound that's soft and familiar and comforting even in this current state of being surrounded and overwhelmed, and her cheek brushes up against yours as the two of you peer up at Enzo—

"You're probably right." She whispers.

Enzo grunts, pulling his cock from your mouth and offering it to Pansy who greedily takes it in her own—

"Selfless generosity," Theo murmurs from directly under your chin having just witnessed that, and his tone suggests he's got his signature smirk in place. "How noble of us."

"Very selfless," Blaise says, from somewhere in the room again—and even as you're lost in pleasure you know that statement borders on sarcastic. "Absolutely nothing in it for any of you."

"Nothing at all," Theo replies, the same amount of sarcasm in his voice as Blaise's. "It's all self-sacrifice."

"Mm," Mattheo murmurs against your shoulder, before he pushes himself off you and finally pulls out. "Not even a shred of personal satisfaction."

You're still collapsed on top of Theo, as boneless as a human being can be, and a quiet whine escapes your lips at the loss before you can stop it.

"See," Theo murmurs, a hand coming up to run through your hair. "We've practically made a martyr of ourselves here. Selflessness at its finest."

"So humble," Blaise says, and you swear you hear the eyeroll that's almost certainly included. "I think this calls for medals and a parade through the streets. A holiday, maybe. Selfless Slytherin Day."

Enzo huffs—you can tell he's considering telling Blaise to shut up before he ruins his orgasm but as Pansy drags her tongue along the underside of his shaft, he seems to forget about it—

"Absolutely," Mattheo says—and if you had the strength to lift your head and look at him there'd likely be a smug smirk on his face. "I'd volunteer to be parade marshall, personally."

Enzo pulls out of Pansy's mouth with a gasp—and it's all but two seconds before he sprays sticky jets of cum all over your face and hers, his head tipping back as he does—

"I'm sure you would," Blaise says dryly, his voice coming from closer now than before. "I'm sure you would also volunteer to accept the medal, and then offer a speech about how humble you are."

"Mhm,” Mattheo sounds unbothered. You know he is. "Obviously. Someone's got to make sure the truth is told."

Pansy giggles against your face, then, before her tongue drags across your cheek, collecting some of Enzo's release. "Well, it's no good if you all are going to keep doing a poor job at the selflessness part.”

"I think we're well past the point of pretending we're doing this selflessly," Theo mutters dryly as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. "If we were capable of that level of pretending, we'd all be in Ravenclaw."

Your hands find Pansy's hair, holding her close to you as you lick Enzo's cum off her chin and jaw.

"You're welcome to switch houses if you'd like," Blaise responds dryly. "Some of us were sorted to our houses for reasons other than self-satisfaction—"

"Oh, shove it, Zabini," Enzo says as his breath comes back. "You're acting like a bloody dad."

Blaise opens his mouth, presumably to offer some kind of sharp retort, but before they have a chance, Pansy cuts in. "If you're all quite finished with the pissing contest—“

"We've been done for minutes," Theo replies quickly, hand now stroking through your hair. "Now we're just bickering for the sake of it, as usual."

"Which means we've got at least another half an hour to go," Blaise mutters—before apparently giving up all attempt at sounding cool and collected and flopping down on the nearest open section of sofa.

"At least," Mattheo agrees. "Maybe an hour, if we're lucky."

Next to you, Enzo grunts out a laugh as he starts trying to fix himself back to modesty. "Lucky is one word for it—"

"I think lucky is an excellent term for the current state of things," Theo replies, his voice all smooth and silky and perfectly at fucking ease. "In fact, I'd be hard pressed to think of anything more lucky than getting to experience this."

Everyone is in agreement, at that.

[a-bready-music-blog]

As someone with like 80 playlists, I wish you could make folders in Spotify

[chobunz]

── “ something new ” ( lhs ) 📌

๑ You and your boyfriend try face riding for the first time ever, his new #favorite position from now on.

pair: jock!heeseung ㅊ thick gf!reader | warnings: smut, dry grinding, face sitting, shaking, spanking, praise, quick death jokes, heeseung admiring you to the core, trying new things, worried reader, thirsty heeseung ftw, use of safe word | words: 918

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“fuck..” heeseung groaned, feeling your core grind on top of his clothed erect. ‘netflix and chill’, yeah it's cliché and all but it gets the sex drive going. the two of you were watching *** (show/movie name) cuddled up in bed together. you finally had the day off and what better way to spend it than with your precious, handsome boyfriend? always 100% a good time. guaranteed.

“mmh.. ‘m so wet baby.” you moaned against his mouth, if anything, after you finished you wanted his lips to be bruised, you wanted everyone to know that he had more than what he needed, you knew your worth. “you make me so wet…”

watching you ride him always struck a line in him. he was always wanting to try new things with you in the bedroom. you two have been through a series of ‘never do agains’ ‘once in a whiles’ and ‘fucking greats’, position wise. though, you were always a riding type of girl, you loved how you could feel every inch of him and even have control of him when you’re on top.

“wan’ you to ride my face this time, princess.” he breathed out as you pull away, gently caressing your skin. his hands travelled the curves of your body, all the way down to the hem of your shorts. tugging them down past your thighs.

you tip off of him to take your shorts off fully, feeling him smack your ass as in indicator to do so. “ride your face ?..” you questioned. you weren’t really sure how to ride someone’s face as you’ve never tried it before, sitting back down on his waist.

he hummed at your shyness, pulling your bottom up to his chest. “you don’ want to ?” “we don’ gotta...” he lazily spoke, not wanting you to feel pressured at all.

“no, no. i mean.. i’m definitely down. i just don’t wanna kill you..” you couldn’t help but worry, you worried about if he’d be able to breathe properly while you sat on his pretty face.

“no baby, i’d live just to die from this pussy. kill me.” he joked kissing your thigh. “wan’ you to suffocate me..” his eyes found yours biting his lip. his sight dripped from your eyes, to your lips, then your boobs, and all the way down to your wetness. he could feel the heat from your core on his bare skin.

you felt so lucky to have someone who constantly praised and worshipped you. he made you feel like a queen, which he so rightfully believed you were one. maybe even a lost princess, ready to claim the throne as yours.

and let’s not lie, you certainly did find one. which looked something like heeseung’s lap— and his face pretty soon.

๑ ๑ ๑

“heeseu.. heeseung !” your hands tugged at the strands of his hair as he licked your slate clean. you were constantly whining. your moans singing a beautiful song to heeseung’s ears.

everytime you found yourself lifting up from his mouth you felt him forcefully pulling you back down. devouring you like a lion to it’s prey. hearing him groan an ‘uhnuhn’ whenever you’d try and lighten the weight you put on his head.

his tongue entered you from time to time, stroking the side of your walls with perfection. “baby, kiwi..” you cried, patting the top of his head. when the safe word slid out of your mouth he immediately stopped.

“did i do something wrong ?” he rubbed your thighs as you shifted on top of him. the bit of worry leaving him once you hovered back over his thirsty mouth.

“mhm.. jus’ wanted to turn around..” you shakily exhaled, feeling him tighten his grip on your ass before he dove back into you.

“taste so good baby..” his hot breath fanned against your sopping core.

you brushed your fingers along his abdomen, pulling his designer briefs down far enough for his bulge to fling out. your hips rotating at just the sight alone.

“hm, no baby, just relax pretty.” he groaned, nibbling on your bud.

“please, hee..” you pleaded, rubbing his length gently.

“no, sit the fuck up.” he pulled your waist, causing you to lean up straight. a pout adorning your lips.

“but, you’re so hard baby..” “looks so good..” you grinded against his mouth once his tongue found your insides again. moaning at your neediness for him.

you felt yourself shaking just at the feel of him kissing your dewy cunt. it was so sloppy and passionate. he kissed your pussy like he loved it. and he did. he could do it for hours without complaining.

“shit.. gonna come..” you breathlessly whined.

“you’re gonna come, hmm? mama ?” he smirked against you licking through each fold. he didn’t wanna waste a single drop of you.

“yeah..” eyes closing shut at the feeling, ready to burst any minute.

“then do it.” he teased your clit, spelling out his name on the tip of your swollen bud. giggling as he could hear you falling apart above him.

“come for me baby.”

he continued praising you, cheering you on every step of the way. your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

“ugh, i’m coming.. right now..” you struggled to even speak, a last stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. “fuck !”

your body ‘laxed on his. you were breathing heavier than ever. and even felt slight embarrassment for yourself.

“shit princess, you just squirted..” he caressed your shivering ass; licking his cumstache with a ‘good girl.’

“hmmm...”

ヾ(≧▽≦)o

want to read more ?? click here for a part 2 !!