#party hard if u enjoy that!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
elfcollector · 2 years ago
Note
Did you like TWC Book 3? I've put off playing because I've seen some people saying that the pacing is off and that sort of thing.
i really liked it! i'm also admittedly like....probably not engaging with it the way the folks who are critiquing the pacing are, though, so i may be the wrong person to ask. if i'm totally honest, i do think it's a bit silly to go into the amateur project that's overtly designed to be tropey and melodramatic and etc and take a super critical lens to it. not that it's wrong to do it, but it does feel a little bit like reading...i dunno, twilight, and being like "damn, the lore here is kinda flimsy." like who on god's green earth is reading twilight for the lore and not the shoddily written but very fun romance
this is all to say that i do agree that the pacing isn't always solid and there are plenty issues with the writing, but i'm just too old to find reasons to dislike things that are fun, even if the fun thing has flaws, if that makes sense? there are bigger discussions that are absolutely worth having about mishandling of race and things like that, of course, but in terms of writing quality i'm not engaging with twc expecting it to give me the experience of reading lord of the flies. i'm expecting it to give me melodrama and overwrought romance and boy is it delivering.
anyway, i liked book 3 a lot and think it delivers on what it's trying to do quite well! if you engage with it as a fun tropey melodrama written by somebody who's got a lot of passion but is not a professional, then i imagine you'll enjoy it as well! if you're expecting more than that then i can see the writing flaws being disappointing.
4 notes · View notes
seiwas · 1 month ago
Note
for writing game, iwaizumi + assistance <3
hope this sparks some inspo and thank you in advancee
hi there!! thanks for sending in a prompt 🫶
contains: friends to lovers (ish), halloween parties, reader is dressed as catwoman, expletives, iwaizumi is thiiiiis 🤏 close to murdering seijoh4 (jk)
iwaizumi + assistance
this is a set-up.
iwaizumi knows he shouldn't have fucking believed anything the boys "promised" him back when they assigned him this costume.
the suit is fucking tight, spandex digging into his groins and all other crevices that definitely should be aired out after after a few hours. he's had to constantly readjust his stance almost every few minutes, the black fabric compressing his thighs and torso, significantly constricting the range of motion his shoulders and arms are typically used to. if anything else, it could double up as a back brace from how rigidly straight it's kept his posture all night.
he'll give it to makki though; he did outdo himself sourcing this year's costumes―this batman set looks pretty damn legit.
except for one tiny problem.
there's no fucking pee hole. it's a zip-up, zip-down one-piece situation. and that normally wouldn't be a problem, except that oikawa "accidentally" knocked over a cocktail straight into his pants, the sickeningly sweet liquid now seeping straight into the fabric and past his boxers―cold and sticky as it touches his skin.
and so, the problem: his pants are wet, it makes him want to fucking pee, and coincidentally, the only vacant bathroom is across the hall, at your apartment.
this is why he believes this is a set up. that, and the fact that you're dressed in an outfit strikingly similar―just with cat ears.
he's been asked five times in this party if you're in matching couple outfits.
it catches him off guard, flusters him because of how badly he wants to say yes. but, you're just friends, and he doesn't even think you like him that way (despite mattsun and oikawa practically begging him to confess. makki tells him he thinks you're going to do it first).
so he politely smiles and says no, but you look good, your costume clinging to you in all the right places. thank fucking god he has a cape because he's pretty sure he spent the first 30 minutes in the party hiding his boner.
"hajime, it's fine, i swear," you stand beside him in front of the conveniently locked bathroom in oikawa's apartment. from the other side of the door, he's pretty sure he hears mattsun and his girlfriend mumbling. maybe fucking? who knows. "you can just use the bathroom in my apartment."
he glances at you before closing his eyes, contemplating, before finally agreeing to you.
"okay."
if he's being honest with himself, friends is definitely an incomplete label to what you are. as oikawa's neighbor, you are conveniently around all the time; and oikawa being oikawa, the ever-social butterfly, he's somehow managed to carve a space for you in the friend group.
(never mind the fact that oikawa's sniffed him out from the moment he first introduced you.)
you were a crush, then a friend, and now you're someone he picks up from work and drives back home three times a week, because he "has to train oikawa." you don't question it, even when you both know he stays over for dinner way past the gym's open hours.
"you know where it is," you open your apartment and urge him in.
"sorry again," he turns to face you.
"yeah, yeah, just pee!" you laugh, shoving him towards the bathroom door.
getting out of the suit is manageable, and he's able to wipe off a bit of the cocktail that's leaked to the suit and his boxers just to make sure it isn't gross and sticky when he gets home later. peeing is a big relief once he gets it over with, but it's when he has to suit up again that things become difficult.
stretching out the spandex one body part at a time is a workout in itself―the hardest task being when he has to pull it over his shoulders, adjusting it to fit properly over his arms and chest.
but then the zipper breaks.
and he truly thinks makki has fucked him over.
iwaizumi contemplates what to do next for a good, good while. he tries calling oikawa, only to no success every time; no way in hell is he calling mattsun in the middle of having sex. and calling makki isn't even an option; he'd never hear the end of it.
then you knock on the door, your voice soft and concerned as you ask, "hajime? you good in there?" you hit it spot on, too, "do you need help with your suit?"
iwaizumi presses his palms to his eyes. he's a rational man, straightforward and logical in thinking. there is literally no other option for him right now but to ask help from you. again.
fuck.
.
it's 30 minutes later when oikawa barges in your door, and the sight that greets him is iwaizumi in nothing but a hoodie (the hoodie you borrowed some time ago) and his boxers, with his hands on your waist as you hover your hairdryer over the crotch of his batman costume―cat headpiece off and all.
"you finally got together?!"
#iwaizumi x reader#hq!! x reader#shotorus.workbook#omg i hope u enjoyed this!! i had fun thinking it up ehehe and writing it#in my mind this is set in the same universe as the halloween one i did for mattsun―actually its the same party HABFHBSF#some stuff about the fic: iwaizumi is hot in that costume i spared the details bc i was going to combust MYSELF#but it clings to his muscles REAAAAAAL good and there's really not a lot of padding in the costume itself#bc makki believes in iwaizumi's anatomy enough to deliver#what happened in between iwaizumi asking for help and oikawa barging in??? we may never know 🤷‍♀️ kidding !#i just didnt write it in bc it would be too long but#if anyone is curious maybe i'll write it as a separate thing!#other stuff abt the fic: reader became good friends with oikawa first bc neighbors but then oikawa admittedly wanted to play matchmaker#so he invited reader a ton to their group things so he could introduce em to iwaizumi HAHA and iwaizumi crushed hard#they become close pretty quickly too hence why reader calls him hajime HAHAH and they hang out even outside of the group#theres definitely something like they text a lot and stuff but neither of them are sure of how the other feels so they arent admitting#reader has borrowed a hoodie from him tho#(aka the one he's wearing in the blurb bc it's the only article of clothing that fits him in reader's apt)#also they figured they'd just kill time by drying iwaizumi's costume bc for sure they couldn't chuck it in the dryer so the next best thing#was to just use a dryer and spot dry it#makki did source most of the costumes! except mattsun's and his gf's#uhhh they go back to the party afterwards but reader literally had to makeshift lock iwaizumi's costume with safety pins HAHA#i guess his muscles just be too popping 🤷‍♀️#fvntybomb#ask#rep#ask game answered
106 notes · View notes
kiwibongos · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
love how after ibuki's performance at fuyuhikos recovery party everyone was like panicking and bawling and throwing up, shocked and chilled by what they just heard, meanwhile i imagine fuyuhiko is just like. grinning like omg.. for me? :))
361 notes · View notes
elftwink · 7 months ago
Text
been learning to play ironsworn (gritty fantasy ttrpg which you can play with a gm but is mostly suited for solo or small group co-op gmless play) after having the rulebook pdf for several years (stars finally aligned to remove invisible thing blocking me from reading it idk) because i'm on another solo ttrpg kick & i don't know what took me so long to get around to this game because it genuinely is exactly what i was looking for. years ago when i was playing through solo 5e modules i should have just been playing ironsworn (believe it or not, 5e isn't very suited to solo play and is extremely clunky when you try lol).
also though i have dabbled in some other solo ttrpgs, a considerable amount of them are journaling games which is fun but imo considerably more work (usually by the time i'm a quarter of the way through the journal entry, i know how to entire scene played out and i want to move on to the next gameplay thing, so i get frustrated and bored quickly. it feels like when you solve a level in a video game but don't have the coordination to pull off the necessary move so you have to spend 20 extra minutes doing something you already figured out), so i really appreciate like not needing to write something for the game to progress (ive been taking notes for my own record since im playing solo and thus am not really out loud roleplaying the way you do in a group, but i definitely could do that instead and not take notes and the game would still function perfectly)
& ive been playing by myself but also in the past ive played a lot of ttrpgs in very small groups which has been other games but is mostly dnd and like. we also should have been playing ironsworn so that having a gm was not necessary. have definitely played games where we had to adapt the rules soooo much to do something that is just base game included in ironsworn. plus it's rules-light enough to do pretty complex moves that pose difficulties in bulkier games (ever introduced someone to dnd and they tell you they want to do a sick backflip and catch something and then attack and you have to tell them that will require several different consecutive rolls and some creative liberties with how the rules are 'supposed' to let you move? you can just Do That in ironsworn. use the strike move and describe it. done!)
the one thing is that although it's rules-light enough to theoretically play any setting or genre (some with more difficulty than others), ive found so far that like... the grittiness and sense of threat is very built into the mechanics so that would be sort of difficult to work around or change (but i think it's great from a game design perspective). what i mean is like, okay: you start with 5 max hp. there isn't really a way to raise this max hp, you just slowly gain abilities (assets) that make you less likely to have to lose the hp in the first place, or that make it easier to recover. when you encounter foes, you rank them on a scale of 1 -5, and enemies on the lowest side of this scale do one harm to you, while enemies on the highest side do five harm to you. so even though encountering an epic enemy won't always be deadly due to the assets you have, they are ALWAYS capable of taking you down to 0 hp with one good hit. so the feeling of threat is much more present compared to games where your character starts to be able to just tank and push through a failure or huge threat.
admittedly also i'm playing solo, im still learning how to balance combat, and also i built a character who has NO combat talents and iron (the close quarters fighting stat) is one of my lowest stats so i personally am under much more threat than if you built a character who knew how to fight or who could do deadly harm. but also the other thing about combat is it's extremely difficult to maintain control of the fight; you have to score a strong hit to do it on basically all moves, and there's a really limited pool of moves available when you don't have the initiative, and obviously none of them really favour you. i don't know that this makes combat genuinely more difficult, but it does make you feel like the fight is always about to spiral out of your control. every second you let it drag without decisive action feels like it brings you closer to dying. like i said, this is a feature of the game design and not a problem in any way. just thinking about it because when i was initially learning i was going to try to supplant it into a homebrew fantasy world of my own but the tone just wouldn't be right. and that it is somewhat difficult to replicate the kind of worlds that i typically play or run for dnd, which tend to lean somewhat sillier and definitely much higher fantasy
but i like to try new things and tbh especially in dnd i find that i very rarely feel that sense of threat and when i do feel it, it has nothing at all to do with the actual mechanics and reality of the combat and everything to do with how well the dm sells it to me and makes it sound and feel scary and dangerous. which is a testament to what a good gm can do for you but i do appreciate the threat feeling more built-in and also being actually real.
#good idea generator#kas plays ironsworn#am giving it a tag because i will continue to talk about this. its my blog#idk i just find in dnd like. players often FEEL threatened WAY before they actually are threatened#which makes it really hard to balance combat because players treat evenly matched fights like hopeless death traps#so instead they do underleveled combat that feels boring for some hard to pin down reason#but like. the reason is even though you're nervous about the dm's description and the things the monsters can do#there is no real threat. especially in bigger parties where the players DOMINATE action economy. they are always in control#so of course it gets boring. it drags out so everyone can take their turn but it never forces you to make difficult choices#or to totally exhaust all your abilities. after awhile the combats start to feel same-y#because even if the monster is different. you never have to do anything different to defeat it#ofc this is a subjective assessment and also if youre reading this and we play dnd together this is not a gripe abt our table i love u#i think it's really easy to get trapped doing this esp in tables which like rp more than combat#because its also like. once you're used to a certain balance of combat if your dm suddenly threw you a big one#you assume that this is a uniquely large threat in the narrative as well (rather than a rebalancing attempt)#and treat it accordingly. which is to say with way too much caution because it isnt actually that big of a threat#so then as a dm when you have to maintain the feeling of threat and the mechanical threat#(especially when sometimes the mechanical line between 'cakewalk' and 'tpk' is razor thin#and is more about the initiative order and luck than anything else)#you start to prioritize the feeling of threat. which is imo the right call always#but its just after awhile when you feel the threat but nothing ever happens to anybody. the dissonance starts to affect the table#also balancing dnd combat as a dm is really hard and often requires a LOT of on the fly adaptation#because sometimes the CR is useless and you don't know how it's gonna do until the dice are on the table already#anyway. my point is that im enjoying how ironsworn handles this problem
13 notes · View notes
muzzlemouths · 2 years ago
Note
I noticed you made a new DnD character.
If you tell me about your favorite character build I’ll tell you mine 😁
Oh man I love making builds I probably couldn't pick just one...
The build of my most recent character (Althos "Lucky Snout" Marfras) is a halfling dragonborn, and follows the Luckiest Man Alive trope because I just had to have a character that gets through life on charisma and coincidence alone.
His background/race/class all combine to give him just stupid amounts of luck. Which is great because he has -1 Strength and a tendency of running headfirst into danger.
Tumblr media
I haven't gotten a chance to use him in a campaign yet but I'm really really excited to.
If I had to pick a build that's already been used in a campaign, it'd be my favorite d&d character, Nikaia! A paladin Aasimar with a knack for healing and a patience without end (but which is constantly tested by their party members lol)
Tumblr media
Their art is done by the wonderful @71eh
Unfortunately they never ran over Lvl 2 because they're kiiiiinda a stick-in-the-mud and the party they were a part of leans more towards silly times and memery so they didn't really fit in. They're still my favorite though <3 I'll find another campaign to put them in one of these days.
ANYWAY. I love making d&d characters lol. What's YOUR favorite? :D
16 notes · View notes
tyrianlynch · 1 year ago
Text
I started watching Suits today and have been playing the sims nonstop and have been reading nothing but fanfiction about gay firefighters and articles about how the CIA started a domino effect that created al qaeda and the taliban so yes I’m doing super well mentally
4 notes · View notes
fushitoru · 10 days ago
Text
infect me with your love
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader
summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City?
warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, SMUT, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, basically the holy trinity, reader works at Starbucks (BOYCOTT tho), set in NYC, both reader and gojo are physics majors, mentions of SA, attempt at SA on reader but nothing too graphic, some violence, gojo swings reader across NYC so might trigger fear of heights?. SPIDER-MAN KISS SPIDERMAN KISS, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied
playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics
a/n thank you for @avaults my POOKIE for beta reading this. this has been a journey and my first longfic and i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it it's my baby:')
if u don’t wanna read the smut just skip the part after they make up, it’s not necessary to the story and is the ending scene. but just to be clear, minors dni.
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
Tumblr media
fun fact: starbucks opens at 5am.
of course, that depends on your local hours and where you live, but in the campus starbucks you worked at, your manager fortunately didn’t really care if you showed up to your opening shift a bit late. after all, no professor or undergrad is waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a fuckin coffee; if they really needed a pick me up, they’d go to get the free alcohol at one of the frats that was still partying. 
matter of fact, your manager didn’t really give a fuck what you did as long as you didn’t get the shop blown up or the matcha spilled (it was expensive). this meant you could leisurely wake up at 4:45am and set up the display muffins and cake pops when you arrived in the shop at 5:20am. really, the manager ought to reduce the hours because all you do is finish your readings for your gen ed history classes on the canvas app on your phone. so, really you get paid for doing your homework on your shifts—not that you’re complaining or anything.
that is, until gojo satoru.
first, let’s get the record straight about who gojo is. gojo is a physics second-year—same as you–who is the bane of your existence. up until a few months ago, you never saw gojo satoru outside of classes (where he was dozing off) unless you happened to show up at a frat party, which was only a few occurrences when you got peer pressured by your friends. clearly, he was a “work hard, party hard” type person because he frequents the frats more than the library while having the grades to make up for it because he’s a prodigy. he’s charismatic and smart as fuck; right out of middle school he was studying manifolds and abstract algebra while the rest of the high school freshmen were learning the quadratic equation and the concept of variables. he probably learned what gravity was at age of two and was doing research in quantum field theory by the time he got into college. 
take the last time you saw him outside of class, at office hours with professor yaga.
the air in professor yaga’s office is thick with the scent of old textbooks, the hum of the overhead lights adding to the familiar quiet. you’ve been waiting all week for this chance, and you’re armed with a question that’s supposed to signal i’ve done my homework. you lean forward, trying to project confidence as you ask, “i read in your last paper that you’re working on optimizing error correction in quantum computing systems. is there a reason you prioritized stabilizer codes over surface codes?”
professor yaga’s brow lifts, impressed, and you can feel the warmth of his approval starting to settle around you. “ah,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised, “you’ve actually read it. that’s... a complicated question.” he leans back, launching into an explanation, and for a second, you think this might actually be it—the moment he notices you for your dedication, your depth of knowledge.
but then, the door creaks open behind you.
you tense, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach even before you turn around. of course, it’s gojo satoru, strolling in like he owns the place. his bag is slung over one shoulder, and he’s flashing that easy grin that never seems to falter. he spares you the briefest glance before zeroing in on professor yaga.
professor yaga’s face shifts instantly, a mixture of annoyance and resignation flashing in his eyes as he sighs, “gojo. nice of you to join us.”
“hey, i was just passing by,” gojo says casually, though he’s clearly anything but. he doesn’t pass by anywhere without making an entrance. “thought i’d check in on how everyone’s doing.”
the glint in yaga’s eyes sharpens, and he fixes gojo with a look. “when’s that last problem set coming in, satoru? i’ve had enough late assignments from you for one semester.”
at this, another professor at a nearby desk chuckles, casting an amused glance at gojo. “don’t push him too hard, yaga,” he says as if gojo’s delinquency is something charming, a shared inside joke. “kid’s already got the department’s highest scores without trying.”
oh, for god’s fucking sake. you force yourself not to roll your eyes, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag as you sink back in your chair. of course, all it takes is for him to show up and somehow you’re rendered invisible. just minutes ago, professor yaga was engaging with you, treating you as if you might actually belong in this room with your carefully constructed question. now, he’s utterly distracted, entirely absorbed by whatever pseudo-flattering insults he’s throwing at gojo. and, for the record, that stupid, balding professor is wrong. you have the same fucking scores as gojo, so you’re equals.
you’re not even sure gojo realizes he’s doing it—that he has this magnetic, obnoxious effect on everyone in a room. but that’s exactly what grates on you the most. he pulls all eyes to him, like he’s some cosmic force everyone’s compelled to admire. and you? you’re just… there. not that it’s any different than the usual experiences you’ve had as a woman in stem, always feeling like you have to prove yourself five times over. but somehow, gojo makes it worse.
and he does it all effortlessly, like physics is some sort of playground where he can breeze through research and exams, sprinkling charisma wherever he goes. he’s probably off writing his own theories on manifolds while everyone else is struggling to keep up with quantum mechanics. meanwhile, here you are, clawing for every shred of recognition, only to watch it fizzle as soon as he steps into the room.
he flashes a grin at professor yaga. “i’ll get it in,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “i’m just, you know, prioritizing. some of us have… extracurriculars.” he doesn’t wink, but he might as well.
you resist the urge to scoff, sinking deeper into your seat as the frustration bubbles up, sharp and hot. it’s not like you’re jealous. you’d rather endure anything than admit that. but watching gojo waltz in and immediately siphon off any attention you’d managed to earn feels like a slap. if he could just stop showing up, or better yet, stop pretending to be so casually brilliant, maybe—just maybe—you’d have a chance at something other than this routine invisibility.
you let out a huff, pretending to check the time, imagining you had somewhere better to be. you have brilliant, observant blue eyes following you out the door, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself together until you reach your dorm, where you ugly cry it out.
which, of course, brings you to mornings like this one, where you actually do have to be somewhere. namely, behind the counter at the campus starbucks, opening up shop while most of the world is still asleep. you catch sight of the green mermaid logo ahead, just visible through the dim haze of a 5:07 a.m. chill.
and right beneath it, there’s a familiar head of silver hair.
your eyes have to double take on the man who seems to be looking a bit slouched, tired and leaning against the light pole while tapping his foot. the muscular yet tall stature and white hair are unmistakable; it’s the same ones you’ve dreamed about throttling. but you’re so confused as to why he’s there that you just decide to wordlessly walk towards the store and open up, ignoring his presence until his voice cuts through the morning silence.
“doesn’t this store open up at 5?” his voice sounds tired and groggy, you notice. 
“uh, yea,” you answer tentatively, shrugging. “but, um, no one comes until 7 so i show up late.”
his eyes narrow and somewhat playfully (well, as playful as he can sound at the ass crack of dawn anyways), he asks, “don’t you know time is of the essence? seems pretty irresponsible to me that you’re not showing up on time.”
you just stare at him for a bit because, after all, this is the guy you’ve been having the murderous equivalent of wet dreams about for the past year talking to you in a friendly, joking, familiar way. needless to say, you’re at a loss of words in your slightly flustered state, so all that comes out is a short “sorry” before you’re walking in, getting ready to put on your apron and setting the oven on to heat up the croissants. 
gojo follows in after you, choosing to sit at the table closest to the counter. he sets the backpack he had on his back down, rummaging through and whipping out his laptop and plugging it in. it’s a heavy old thing, and gojo’s biceps strain as he pulls it out and you almost snort when looking at it in its entirety. a gaming laptop.
 but you don’t do that, because laughing at someone who’s a stranger to you would be mean, no matter how much you hate him, so you resort to setting up the counter and getting some powders out. bending over, you get the newly shipped box of cake pops, deigning to put them out on display until you’re interrupted with a cough.
you turn, looking inquisitively at gojo until he points down to the counter, indicating that he wants to order. you mumble, “just a second!” before you continue hauling the box to put it on the top counter where you can easily unpack it and brush your hands, walking up to gojo and getting the system ready to take his order. 
and your fingers are poised on the buttons until you realize that no order is coming out of his mouth. you blink, and he blinks, keeping a stoic face that nevertheless poorly conceals an amused expression.
“…what can i get you?” 
at that, he pouts. “no good morning? no chirpy hello?”
you just stare at him for a good second. what the fuck?
“what?” gojo frowns. “shouldn’t you do that to every customer?” you realize belatedly you’ve said it out loud in your shock, but shake it off nonetheless. 
the silence lingers after gojo’s teasing comment, making you acutely aware of the odd situation: you’re standing there in your work apron, face-to-face with the man you’ve imagined taking down in your head a thousand times, and yet here he is, tired but playfully trying to chat you up. you should hate this—he’s getting under your skin, but for some reason, you just feel unsettled, disturbed that he’s so human.
you don’t trust your voice to not crack while making eye contact with him, so, instead, you focus on your screen. you settle on a simple, flat, “morning,” without a hint of cheerfulness, staring down at the register like it’s your lifeline.
gojo’s eyebrow quirks at your half-hearted greeting, but he says nothing, opting instead to study you with an amused glint. you can feel his gaze, like a weight on your skin, and it almost makes you shiver. he leans forward a little, propping his elbows on the counter, his posture loose but expectant. his playful energy is barely masking something beneath it, something harder.
gojo's grin is wide, almost boyish, and it makes your stomach churn more than it should.
“see? was that so hard?” he says, leaning forward on his elbows like he’s settling in for a chat. his tone is too friendly for someone who’s never exchanged more than a glance with you in class—someone you’ve been actively avoiding whenever possible.
you scowl, moving to the register to finally punch in his order. “what would you like?”
“hmm...” he taps his chin, dragging out the silence. he’s enjoying this, that much is obvious. “surprise me.”
you blink, fingers still poised over the buttons. “surprise you?”
“yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “you work here. you know what’s good.”
you want to throttle him. really, truly throttle him. there’s no way this is real—no way the gojo satoru is sitting in front of you at 5:07 in the morning, asking you to surprise him with a starbucks order like he’s some quirky regular.
and yet, here you are.
“fine,” you mutter, punching in the order for the sweetest, most ridiculous concoction you can think of. caramel drizzle, extra whipped cream, a pump of every syrup in the back room—you’re not going easy on him. “that’ll be eight dollars.”
he doesn’t blink at the ridiculous price. of course, he doesn’t.
pulling out his phone, he taps it against the card reader and flashes you another grin. “thanks, i’m sure it’ll be great.”
you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. “uh-huh.”
as you move to make the drink, the silence between you stretches uncomfortably. you’ve spent so much time thinking about gojo, despising him, that now that he’s here, right in front of you, you don’t know how to act. and the worst part? he seems perfectly at ease, completely unfazed by the fact that you’ve spent the better part of a year dreaming of his downfall. he’s back to looking at his stupid heavy ahh gaming laptop, and as you move over to put in copious amounts of caramel pumps, you notice that he’s on cool math games playing fireboy and watergirl and almost snort out loud. he’s locked in on his game, his legs moving up and down anxiously, reminiscent of an ipad kid.
after a few minutes of assembling his monstrosity of a drink, you slide it across the counter. “here,” you say, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.
gojo raises an eyebrow at the drink, the sheer volume of whipped cream threatening to spill over the lid. “wow,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed. “you really went all out.”
“you said to surprise you.”
“i did,” he admits, grabbing the cup and taking a slow, deliberate sip. his eyes widen slightly at the overly sweet taste, and for a brief moment, you think you’ve won.
but then he smiles again, that same irritatingly carefree smile, and you know you haven’t. 
“so,” gojo begins, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a long conversation. “what’s a genius like you doing working the early shift at starbucks?”
your hands freeze mid-clean, and you glance at him sharply. genius?
you can’t tell if he’s being sincere or mocking you—probably the latter, considering who he is—but the word still lingers in the air between you, unsettling.
you scoff, trying to brush it off. “gotta pay the bills somehow,” you mutter, going back to wiping down the counter. but gojo’s gaze is heavy on you, and you can tell he’s not letting it go.
you glance up at him. “look, i like having time to think in the mornings. it’s quiet. besides, no one’s lining up for coffee before 7, so it’s not like i’m missing anything.”
gojo chuckles softly, but there’s something off about it. “thinking time, huh?” he repeats your words, but there’s a strange edge to them, like he’s mulling them over. in fact, you think you just realize that he’s been acting oddly this entire morning, restlessness evident in his figure. he taps his fingers on the table, his eyes flickering to the window, watching the gray morning light spill into the shop.
“doesn’t it ever feel like…” he trails off, brow furrowing slightly. “i don’t know… like you should be doing something else? like… something more?”
his question hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken, but you get the feeling he’s not talking about you. there’s something in his voice, something that sounds like he’s grappling with his own thoughts, with his own place in the world.
for a moment, you’re tempted to brush him off. to tell him he’s overthinking things, that he’s gojo satoru and he already has everything laid out for him. but something stops you. maybe it’s the way he looks—his usual confidence slightly cracked at the edges, his playful tone masking something else. something deeper.
you shrug, turning back to the counter. “i mean… it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”
there’s a pause, and you can feel the weight of your words sinking in. gojo goes quiet, really quiet, and when you glance back at him, his usual smirk is gone. he’s just… staring at you, eyes narrowed slightly like he’s trying to figure you out.
“just… showing up, huh?” he repeats softly, almost like he’s testing the words. his fingers stop tapping, and he leans back in his chair, his gaze unfocused, like he’s somewhere else entirely. somewhere in his own head.
you don’t say anything else. you’ve said your piece, and somehow, you know it hit deeper than either of you expected. there’s a strange silence between you now, not uncomfortable, but heavy with understanding.
gojo stands up after a long pause, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. he looks at you, his usual grin slipping back into place, but it’s softer now. less cocky. more real.
“maybe you’re right,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing in his voice. “sometimes it’s enough just to show up.”
and with that, he gives you a small nod, turning and heading out into the cold morning. the door swings shut behind him, and for a second, you just stand there, staring after him.
something’s shifted. you don’t know what it is, but it feels like the start of something. something bigger than just a rivalry.
you shake your head, turning back to the counter. it’s too early for this shit.
“you know, i didn’t get your name.”
gojo’s voice cuts through the low hum of the espresso machine as he leans against the counter, that same insufferable grin plastered across his face. he’s here again, of course, only this time it’s during your closing shift. the place is quiet, almost deserted except for the occasional customer who swings by for a quick coffee before heading back out into the cold.
you look up from the equipment you were cleaning, already annoyed. “i’m pretty sure we’ve shared at least one class every semester.”
you weren’t trying to hide the pettiness. gojo, for all his academic genius, clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember you—a recurring face in his orbit. it’s not like you were expecting him to remember you, especially among the sea of faces in lecture halls, but something about the way he strolled in, acting like this was just some cute, quirky meet-cute, got under your skin.
gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling as if searching the recesses of his mind for your name—only to come up empty. “are you a grad student?”
you flash him an exasperated look. “just for that, i’m not telling you.”
grabbing a towel to wipe your hands, you step out from behind the barista counter, heading towards the trash can just behind him to restock the straws. as you make your way to the supply room, you can feel his eyes following your every move. to your surprise, gojo starts walking toward you, his presence looming as you dump the straws into the container.
it isn’t until you turn around that you realize he’s standing right next to you, bent comically at the waist and squinting at something on your chest. heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks as you realize his proximity and move to take a step back. 
he wasn’t ogling you (thank god), but instead, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron.
"ah," he says, straightening up with a triumphant grin. “there it is. y/n, huh?” the way his mouth rolls over your name slowly makes you feel a bit weird, because after all, this is the guy you’ve shit talked about in your diary finally acknowledging you existed, but before you can reflect on the feeling, you bristle again in annoyance. 
“really? you had to get that close just to read my name?”
gojo doesn’t seem fazed by your annoyance, in fact, it only seems to amuse him further. “hey, i was just trying to be thorough. gotta make sure i get it right, you know?” his grin widens, and you swear he’s enjoying this way too much.
“thorough. sure.” you turn away, trying to busy yourself with the straws again, but the heat still lingers on your face. his proximity had been… unexpected. and a little too close for comfort.
when you’re done with the straws, you steel the courage to turn your body so you’re facing him, making an indication with your hands for him to move out of your way. instead of him giving you space to leave the cramped corner, he leans against the counter now like he practically owns the place. in doing so, he effectively pins you against the corner of the coffee shop, leaving you no option but to fiddle with the straws while pointedly avoiding his gaze, but not before you see the pout on his face. “you’re not going to ask me for my name?”
“i know it. it’s gojo.” you immediately curse yourself for letting your lips loose.
fuck. he squints his eyes in what you perceive as suspicion. “how do you know my name?”
“i saw it on your credit card information.” you couldn’t exactly tell him how you’ve stalked him (as well as how inefficient you found a function in his 6th grade robotics code), so that would be a plausible enough reason. 
but gojo, of course, doesn’t let up. “so, y/n,” he starts. “you going to the party next week? you know, for halloweekend?”
ah, halloweekend. the ultimate weekend for getting excuses to dress slutilly, excessively drink, and get laid. at your college, it was an even bigger deal, with people partying for all three days of the week’s end as well as the weekend before and after halloween. you shook your head. “i don’t think so.” that phys 321 assignment was not going to finish itself, nor were parties really your scene.
“what?” he immediately crosses his arms across his chest, frowning and leaning closer to you to squint at you. “why?”
you sigh inwardly, awkward at the prospect of him bugging you further about your life. “i’m bu—”
you’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening and instinctively move to get behind the counter to take the new customer’s order; at first, you thank the heavens that you got a distraction from gojo, that you’re not alone anymore, but seeing who the customer was, the hope extinguishes like a candle face with wind.
you both see a man swagger in, the same guy you’ve noticed hanging around far too often lately. his eyes immediately lock onto you, and a slow, sleazy grin spreads across his face.
“hey, look who’s still here,” the man says, sauntering over to the counter like he owns the place. “my favorite barista.”
you tense, forcing a smile. “what can i get you?”
he doesn’t answer right away, his gaze sliding down your body in a way that makes your skin crawl. “i was thinking…” he drawls, leaning in closer than necessary, “you and i should hang out. you’re always here, and i’m always here, so it’s like fate or something, right?”
your stomach churns, and you take a small step back, maintaining your composure. “i’m good, thanks.”
but he doesn’t let up, leaning further across the counter. “come on, don’t be like that. just one drink. you deserve it after a long day.”
“i really can’t—”
“don’t be shy,” he interrupts, a grin spreading wider. “i’m a nice guy, i promise.”
before you can think of another polite rejection, gojo steps forward, his body language shifting entirely. the playful air around him evaporates, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. he positions himself squarely between you and the guy, effectively cutting off the man’s view of you.
“she said no,” gojo says, his voice firm, low. “so why don’t you fuck off?”
the sleazy guy blinks, clearly not expecting the sudden shift. his smile fades, and he glares at gojo, sizing him up like he’s considering pushing back. but one glance at gojo’s unwavering stare, and the guy decides it’s not worth it. with a muttered curse, he turns and leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.
you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the guy’s been bothering you routinely; part of you thinks that he’s still not going to leave you alone, but the rest of you visibly relaxes, the weight of this guy’s harassment lifting off your shoulders under gojo’s protection.
gojo turns back to you, the usual teasing smirk creeping back onto his face, though his eyes are still sharp. “you okay?”
“yeah,” you manage, though your voice is quieter than you’d like. “thanks for that.”
“don’t mention it.” he shrugs it off like it was nothing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now—something protective. “i know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, but i figured i’d speed things up a bit.”
you roll your eyes, trying to shake off the tension. “you’re such a hero, gojo.”
“always,” he replies with a wink. and just like that, the moment’s lightened again, the balance between you restored, though there’s a subtle shift in the air. something unspoken between the two of you—an understanding, maybe.
you don’t acknowledge it out loud, but as you go back to restocking, you find yourself glancing at him more than before. and for the first time in… well, ever, you don’t completely mind his presence.
fast forward a few hours, and after a bit of conversation, gojo finally leaves the fine institution that is your campus starbucks. right now, you’re alone and finishing cleaning up. you lock up, the starbucks finally closed, finishing your last task for the night. it’s quiet—too quiet, actually, with the usual streetlights casting strange shadows across the empty sidewalk. the air feels heavy, like something unseen is lingering just out of reach, watching from the dark. you shake it off, telling yourself you’re just tired and letting your nerves get to you.
as you start your walk back to your dorm, the feeling only grows. the street’s nearly empty, and with each step, the silence presses in closer. it’s fine, you tell yourself, picking up your pace. but then you hear it: the echo of footsteps, faint but unmistakable. heart pounding, you speed up, every instinct telling you to just get back. almost there. you just have to cross the alley—
“hey there,” a voice drawls, and your stomach sinks. a hand moves to grab at your shoulder, making you turn quickly. what meets your vision is the same guy from earlier, his grin widening in a way that makes your skin crawl.
you try to move out of his grip, but he grabs you harder, cutting off any escape. “aw, don’t be like that. i just wanted some company.”
your throat’s dry, but you manage, “i said no.”
he doesn’t even pretend to listen, his gaze trailing over you with that same leering interest. “no need to be so uptight. i could make this fun for you.”
your back hits the wall of the alley. trapped. he leans in, his breath warm and sour against your face, one hand reaching out as he says something sleazy that you can barely hear over the pounding in your ears—
and then a voice cuts in from above, all easy humor. “y’know, i always thought this city’s trash problem was bad, but this is something else.”
your heart leaps in your chest at the small flicker of hope, that someone has the balls to try to rescue you. but as you—and this creep—turn, you find no evidence of another party present, only his mysterious presence. 
“who’s there?” the guy snarls, his grip tightening so much that you wince. “why don’t you get lost if you know what’s good for you—”
“dude, don’t you have any rizz?” the mysterious boy retorts.the stranger has a youthful voice, someone of your age.  “the way you have to resort to sexual harassment is just sad. you guys are always sooo predictable, you’re so gonna tell me to scram or something.”
the man scowls, hand leaving your arm in an effort to search for the stranger in the dark. “why don’t you mind your own business, punk—”
and he’s interrupted, because a shiny, silver something flings out in the darkness and lands on his face, sending his arms in a frenzy to uncover what it is. the man rips the sticky, silver webbing off his face with a growl, looking around wildly, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. his eyes dart through the dark alley, searching for the source of that cocky voice, but there’s nothing—just shadows and the faint flicker of a streetlamp somewhere down the block.
“who the hell are you?” he snaps, twisting his neck as if he could scare whoever’s hiding out there into the open. “show yourself, you bastard!”
a chuckle echoes from the darkness, bouncing off the brick walls. “wow, real tough guy, huh? but you should work on those anger issues. they’re, uh…a bit unbecoming.”
the man spins around, and another burst of webbing flies out from somewhere unseen, sticking to his shoulder this time. he yanks it off with a frustrated grunt, his head whipping from side to side as he tries to locate the stranger.
“you think this is funny?” he spits, voice raised in a mix of fear and fury.
“depends. do you?” the voice is closer now, almost like the stranger is right above you, yet no one’s there. “or is this just a big overreaction? all i did was suggest you rethink your approach. go to therapy or sum’.”
the man snarls, fists clenched, starting to look downright unhinged. “get down here and say that to my face, punk!”
“as you wish.”
with a soft thump, a figure drops from above, landing directly in front of the guy in a low crouch. in the dim light, all you see at first are the blue and black accents on the otherwise white suit, his head tilting up, illuminated just enough that his white, wide eyes glow with a certain playful menace. and then, your eyes widen as you gasp to yourself. 
you’ve seen him before.
okay, pause.
you’re a busy college student, one who stays entrenched in the bubble of upcoming exams, assignments, and problem sets that you don’t check the news often. in the off chance you do turn from your usual consumption of social media during your breaks to the news, you only have time to read the big headlines.
so you did read somewhere that in your university’s city of new york city, there was a masked menan—vigilante that had beat up a few guys near a shawarma joint or prevented some shootings at a nightclub. new york city was full of incompetent cops that were on the lookout for him (a/n acabbbbbb) since this guy was a vigilante, some kind of superhero slinging around on webs. some name—spiderman.
but before you could read more into the article, your soul almost left your body when you got a canvas notification saying your midterm was graded, so that was the end of that.
alright, pause over. back to now.
“hi!” spiderman chirps, giving him a friendly wave before ducking just as the man throws a punch. the swing goes wide, and spiderman straightens up with a disappointed sigh. “see, this is why i’m the one with the web powers. you’d hurt yourself with these moves.”
without warning, the man charges again, swinging in rapid succession, but each one misses as spiderman easily sidesteps, practically dancing around him. “oof, dude, how did you make it this far in life with reflexes like that?” he ducks another blow, slipping behind the guy to give him a light tap on the shoulder as he passes.
the man stumbles, eyes flashing with frustration, and lets out a roar, reaching down to pick up a loose brick from the alley floor. he raises it above his head, face twisted in a snarl.
“oh, so we’re improvising now?” spiderman quips, and before the man can bring the brick down, a strand of webbing shoots out, sticking to the brick and yanking it from his grasp. it flies off somewhere into the alley, landing with a dull clatter.
the guy stumbles forward, off balance, and spiderman takes the opportunity to web his feet to the ground, immobilizing him in place. the man struggles, pulling his legs, but he’s stuck fast.
“ever heard of boundaries?” spiderman asks, tilting his head with mock innocence. “or, like, self-restraint? you should look into it.”
the man glares, seething, still struggling against the webs. “you think you’re some kinda hero?” he sneers.
spiderman shrugs, glancing over at you, catching your gaze in a way that makes you feel both strangely comforted and seen. “nah, hero’s a big word. i’m just your friendly neighborhood guy with slightly above-average reflexes.”
with a frustrated yell, the man finally wrenches one arm free and makes a desperate lunge, his fist connecting with spiderman’s side. spiderman lets out a small grunt but only wobbles slightly before grinning. “okay, buddy, playtime’s over.”
before the man can even react, spiderman sends out another web, this time at his wrist, effectively pinning him to the alley wall. he struggles, face twisted in anger, but spiderman just raises a gloved hand to his lips as if hushing a child. then, in the lull that follows, you remember the thick quantum mechanics textbook in your bag. without thinking, you yank it out and, in a burst of adrenaline, swing it at the man’s head. the book lands with a solid thud, and he slumps, finally, into silence.
spiderman looks at the unconscious man, then at the textbook in your hand. he lets out a low whistle. “you know, i’ve always thought textbooks were a weapon of choice, but that’s next-level dedication.” that’s when you realize just how tall he is compared to you, and you can’t help your excitement when you realize that he’s here in the flesh.
“nice hit, by the wa—”
“it’s you!” you exclaim. 
“what?” he sputters, white eyes widening almost comically. “me? oh,” then he straightens up, “yea, yea. just your friendly neighborhood spiderman. rescuing pretty girls from creeps, kinda my thing. ” he shrugs.
you continue, excitedly, “right, you’re the one on the news—” you move your hand to point at him but quickly wince, the pain of the man’s grip catching up to you. 
he doesn’t miss the movement, eyes squinting at you. “hey, we’ll have to get you home. do you trust me?”
you look at him, clutching your arm in pain, and really take a moment to check him out. he’s saved you, he’s probably six feet tall, and his ass looks fantastic in his suit. at this point, you’re looking at him with heart eyes. but you can’t exactly tell him you want him to propose, so all you utter out is a “y-yeah. my dorm’s randall.”
he doesn't waste any time. with a quick nod, he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he aims a webline up toward the buildings. “hold on tight, randall’s just a swing away,” he murmurs, his voice light but steady. his hand settles on your hip, and you can't stop the way your stomach flips at the contact.
before you can even process what’s happening, he launches the two of you into the air, the city blurring beneath your feet as you cling to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit for dear life. his arm stays solid around you, his grip somehow both gentle and strong. he lands lightly on the roof of your dorm, setting you down carefully like you’re something fragile. and he steps back, dusting his hands off in the most nonchalant way possible, like he didn’t just take you on the most exhilarating ride of your life.
“this is your stop,” he says, that signature, almost cocky smile playing in his voice.
“uh… yeah. thanks. for the rescue,” you manage, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. you don’t know if “thank you” is enough—it doesn’t even come close to covering what you feel.
but he just shrugs, taking a step back. “all in a day’s work,” he says. “or night’s work, i guess.” he pauses, giving you a quick once-over. “get some sleep, yeah?”
and just like that, he gives you a small, almost playful salute and vanishes, swinging off into the night as easily as he’d appeared, leaving you standing on the rooftop with your heart still racing.
back in your dorm room, you drop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling as tonight’s events replay in your head: the alley, his voice cutting through the dark, that cocky smirk, the way he felt holding onto you as you soared over the city lights. a tiny part of you wonders if you imagined the whole thing—if maybe you’re just the victim of some wild, sleep-deprived hallucination.
but no, your arm still aches from where the creep grabbed you, and you can still feel the ghost of his hand on your waist, steady and reassuring. you bite your lip, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself.
just before sleep finally claims you, you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “the city’s vigilante, huh?” you murmur, as if he’s somehow still listening.
the thought is wild, a bit surreal—and strangely comforting.
“one caffe americano!” you call out, reading the label on the cup before handing it over with a small nod. the customer takes it with a quick thanks, and you return to the counter, barely holding back a yawn. the events of last night flicker through your mind—a web-slinging hero, an alley, the lingering ache in your arm—and you shake it off. there’s no room for distractions. life as a college student means the grind never stops, especially on a morning shift right before class.
when your coworker finally arrives, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, grab your bag, and step out into the brisk morning air. the chill helps wake you up as you make your way across campus, hoping to catch up with your friends before the lecture starts. just outside the building, you spot utahime, sitting on a bench, waiting with her usual tired smile.
“hey, finally off the clock?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“yeah, barely,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “i’m still running on fumes from last night. you guys save me a seat?”
“of course. nanami’s already inside,” she says, gesturing toward the building.
you sigh. “you won’t believe the things that happened last night.”
she gives you a look, in the traditional utahime protective-mother-hen type way. “what happened?”
you give her the rundown of what happened, the guy (who she bristles at, gives you a slap at your hand to tell you that you should’ve told her earlier, kento would’ve been able to beat his ass if she hadn’t gotten to it first) and how spiderman saved you. “i would give him what he’s missing,” you sigh, dreamily. 
utahime looks at you in a judgmental way. “and that’s all you got from this? for fucks sake, he’s a vigilante, you don’t know if he’s started to tail you or not. pooks, he could literally be dangerous. try to convince your boss to let someone else get your night shift.” as soon as you open your mouth to protest, she cuts you off immediately. “and no, i don’t give a fuck about your people pleaser tendenci—”
“we’ll revisit this conversation later.” you give her a sweet smile as you start to speed walk, door of the lecture hall of the 9am section of phys401: intro to quantum algorithms, falling in with the usual stream of students after you hear an irritated “yea, cause i’m gonna kill you otherwise.” the familiar chatter and echo of footsteps make the day feel almost normal, grounding you as you weave through the hall.
inside, you quickly spot kento’s shining, disney prince-like blonde hair, who has saved seats for the three of you near the middle of the hall, away from the ugly, smelly grad students who always crowd the front. he gives you a quick nod as you settle down beside him, flipping open your notebook. the reliable calm on his face helps ease the lingering jitters you hadn’t realized you were carrying.
“long night?” he asks, glancing at the dark circles under your eyes.
“you could say that,” you mumble, not quite ready to get into details. instead, you wave it off. “just work assignments, and getting jumped, the usual.”
nanami breaks into a series of shocked coughs, and you hurry to pat his back as he undeniably burns his tongue on the coffee he was taking a sip of. “what?”
his rather loud exclamation sets off stares from people sitting closer to you both, so you give utahime, who lets out a quiet groan as she’s settling into her seat beside you, a knowing look. “it’s a long story, i’ll tell it to you later.”
he reluctantly settles in after that, not because he has a choice but because yaga is starting to address the class by asking about the weekend and getting his usual blank stares in return until a voice you recognize as suguru geto’s is saying something to undeniably piss him off, but you don’t register quite what it is exactly because the door opens and any attention on geto is directed to the boy with white hair and blue eyes tiredly walking into class. 
he’s about ten minutes late to the lecture, which is already weird because he’s usually about 27 seconds late, not that you keep count. but also, normally gojo is the picture of confidence and cockyness, making some of the female grad students whisper things about him that you don’t think they should be for the five year gap between them and gojo. 
but today, he looks different—messy, unkempt, with shadows under his eyes and a weird angle to his torso, the way he walks, and the way his opposite hand is subconsciously hovering around his side.
your brows knit together as he heads to an empty seat rows behind you next to geto, ignoring the stares of half the room. it’s so out of character for him that you can’t help but wonder what’s going on. you shoot utahime a knowing look, and she stifles a laugh, barely managing to keep a straight face as she watches gojo slink to his seat. nanami’s usually impassive face exchanges a look with you as well before he turns his attention back to professor yaga’s opening remarks. gojo slides into the row behind you without a word, avoiding everyone’s gaze—or so you think, until you feel it.
as you attempt to listen to professor yaga, you can’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into the back of your head. you resist the urge to turn, telling yourself it’s probably nothing… except the feeling lingers, so strong that your pulse ticks up a notch.
“okay, now that we’re all here,” yaga says in a dry tone, barely able to hide his irritation as he glances pointedly in gojo’s direction, “let’s begin with today’s lecture on grover’s.”
professor yaga taps the board, and the projector switches to a set of slides titled quantum speed-up and the grover search algorithm. he launches into his explanation, voice clipped. “grover’s algorithm provides a quadratic speed-up for unstructured search problems, a notable advantage in quantum computing. but can anyone tell me why this isn’t considered an exponential improvement?”
you raise your hand, as does nanami. a subtle shift of movement in your peripheral vision draws your eye to gojo, who’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. yaga’s attention lands on nanami first, and he gives a succinct answer about how grover’s algorithm yields only a quadratic speed-up in terms of computational complexity. as he answers, you swear you catch gojo watching you, again, through the corner of your eye.
determined not to let him get under your skin, you lean over to whisper to nanami. “what’s with him today?”
nanami, still watching yaga, raises a brow. “maybe he finally realized that he can’t get by without skipping class today.”
utahime snickers quietly. “doubtful. more like he thinks it’s funny to waltz in whenever he likes and still ace every test.”
“exactly.” you sigh, drumming your pen against your notebook. gojo’s rare absences don’t even seem to faze most professors. and despite his unpredictable attendance, he’s always managed to stay miles ahead. today, though, something’s… different about him. like he’s made a life changing decision in the past 48 hours.
“moving on,” yaga says, pointing to the board where the next slide materializes. “the heart of grover’s algorithm lies in its use of an amplitude amplification technique, where we iterate a search oracle along with an inversion process. pay attention—this concept of iterative improvement will become key when we start covering variational quantum algorithms.”
as yaga delves deeper into amplitude amplification, you manage to focus, jotting down notes on the necessary steps in grover’s search. yet each time you settle into the lecture, you feel gojo’s gaze pricking at you. the first time you turn around, there’s nothing there—just him slouched, seemingly absorbed in whatever he’s staring at on the ceiling. but then, you sense it again and, on your second glance, you catch his blue eyes meeting yours, and he quickly looks away.
what’s his problem? you give him a questioning look, but he’s adamantly not looking at you, trying to look nonchalant as he’s pulling out his laptop. he might look like a student taking latexing notes of what yaga’s yapping about, but the way he’s using his mouse more than he is his keyboard tells you that he’s probably on papa’s freezeria instead.
you decide that you’re going to waste your time wondering how gojo’s brain functioned, so you instead focus back on the lecture. after all, you didn’t understand any of the lecture notes you took notes on before and what it said about the diffuser in the circuit. 
“now,” yaga’s voice sharpens, pulling you back into the room, “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of being late.” his eyes slide back to gojo, who remains oblivious, leaning back with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the sound of his name brings him back to the lecture.
gojo doesn’t even look phased. instead, he raises a hand casually, like he’s about to ask a simple question. you can feel the anticipation ripple through the room—half the students are waiting to see if he’ll fumble, and the other half already know better.
“professor yaga,” he drawls, “don’t you think amplitude amplification is a bit of an oversimplification? the way it’s typically presented, you’d think grover’s algorithm was just… guessing with style.” he flashes an infuriatingly smug smile, drawing out the pause before continuing. “but we both know it’s more about quantum phase inversion, right? the oracle reflects about the mean state, iterating with a precision that isn’t just luck. or maybe that’s all too technical?” he leans back, feigning innocence.
the smugness in his tone makes something flare up in you, and before you can stop yourself, your hand shoots up.
“actually, gojo,” you interject, your voice louder than you intended, “calling it “guessing with style” is a very gross oversimplification. grover’s algorithm isn’t about intuition or luck. it’s about optimization. it’s not just about spotlighting a target like a rando guess, it’s more like rotating the probability in a controlled manner—with iterations—to amplify the correct solution. not just some quantum trick or guess.” you cross your arms, leaning back in your chair as you stare him down. “it’s not even that bad, compared to what we have classically.”
as soon as you spoke, it seems that the fight and mischievous look in gojo’s eyes fades, replacing it with something that shockingly looks like him being flustered as he averts your gaze, looks to the ceiling, and murmurs something like “yea, that’s basically most of quantum computing, desperately trying to prove we’re not just wasting our time” but yaga interrupts him, clearly a bit annoyed at the two know-it-alls that you and gojo were acting like. 
“now,” yaga says, shifting back to the lecture as if nothing happened (probably because he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit), “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of missing lectures.”
you’re just left confused as to why the conversation didn’t escalate like the typical academic rivals in movies, because you’ve definitely seen gojo bully some people who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about instead of just blushing like some schoolgirl. regardless, you can’t help but notice the thrill that you felt, having finally argued with him, having been seen as someone worth arguing. you try to temper it as yaga continues onto the rest of the lecture.
“i can’t believe you’re making me go.” you tug at the hem of your white corset, paired with a matching skirt, still incredulous at how utahime managed to talk you into attending one of the infamous halloween frat parties. the night air is crisp against your exposed shoulders, and despite your complaints, you shiver more at the thought of wasting the next few hours among sweaty strangers than the actual cold.
utahime, walking beside you in a devil-red version of your outfit—complete with horns perched precariously on her head—looks far too satisfied with herself. she adjusts the horns with one hand, giving you a sidelong glance that practically drips with smugness.
“stop pouting,” she chides. “i’m not going to let you waste another night holed up in your room, buried in manhwa or quantum physics. i’m pretty sure there are cobwebs growing in your—”
“utahime,” you hiss, cutting her off with a mortified glance around.
“pussy,” she finishes, completely unbothered. “i’m going to find you a guy to hook up with. i’m not saying you have to go all the way, but flirting? kissing? maybe something more? very healthy. highly encouraged.”
your mouth falls open in protest, but before you can get a word in, she fixes you with a sharp glare, her dark eyes flashing with all the authority of a disappointed parent. “don’t even think about arguing with me. i swear, if you don’t at least try to enjoy this, i’ll make it my personal mission to find someone for you.”
“i can’t believe this,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “you’re supposed to be my friend, not my pimp.”
“oh, i’m your friend. that’s why i’m doing this. you’ll thank me when you’re sixty and not crying about how boring your college life was.”
“i’m not boring,” you counter. “i’m selective.”
“sure,” utahime drawls, clearly unconvinced. “and whatever weird sexual tension you’ve got going on with gojo doesn’t count.”
you scoff, stopping in your tracks to stare at her. “what tension? we’ve literally talked once this week. and that was the first time we had a conversation.”
she doesn’t respond, already scanning the scene ahead. the street of frat houses looms just ahead, glowing with gaudy orange lights strung up across balconies. the bass from the nearest party reverberates through the pavement underfoot. it’s already crowded, hordes of people shuffling in and out, laughing, shouting, and showcasing their half-baked halloween costumes.
you follow utahime’s gaze to the nearest house, packed with enough people to make the windows fog up. just the thought of squeezing into that humidity makes your stomach churn.
“looks crowded,” you mumble. “maybe we should—”
before you can suggest retreating, utahime grabs your wrist and practically drags you toward the house. “nope. you’re coming in. no backing out now.”
the moment you step inside, the smell hits you. sweat, stale beer, and an undercurrent of what you can only describe as frat-house musk. your nose wrinkles, and you instinctively recoil, pulling your arm free from utahime’s grasp.
“god, it smells like a gym locker in here,” you say, covering your nose.
utahime doesn’t seem fazed. she’s already scanning the room, her eyes landing on a beer pong table set up in the corner, surrounded by cheering students. “this is perfect!” she says, beaming.
“for what? contracting a fungal infection?” you mutter.
but she’s no longer listening, her focus shifting as a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a makeshift cowboy hat approaches her and then stops in front of both of you, his stare fully enthralled by utahime. “hey,” he says, a bit suavely, in the way that makes you inwardly roll your eyes because you know she’s going to eat it up. she likes it when they’re a little ugly, and this guy fits the bill. 
“hey,” and she giggles, making you have to physically fight the urge to puke, “what’s up?”
 they exchange a few words, and before you know it, she’s smiling in that way that tells you she’s found her entertainment for the night.
“go ahead,” you say dryly, waving her off. “i’ll just fend for myself.”
utahime starts to protest, but you’re already beelining for the kitchen, trying to get a drink that’s not too crazy to survive the night. it’s surprisingly less chaotic in the kitchen, though the counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and some questionable punch that looks radioactive. you scan the room, your eyes landing on a cupboard that might hold something simple—like water. a series of ding! ding! ding!’s go off in your mind as you find the pack of plastic water bottles. 
standing on your toes, you reach for the handle, but it’s just out of your grasp. you huff in frustration, shifting to get better leverage when a hand way bigger than yours suddenly appears above yours, effortlessly grabbing the item you were reaching for.
“let me get that for you.”
you turn to thank the person, the words dying on your lips when you see who it is.
gojo.
he’s standing impossibly close, his signature smirk firmly in place, but there’s something almost casual in the way he looks at you, as if this is the most normal interaction in the world. you swear you’re so close that you can see like the two open pores on his otherwise flawless skin, as his eyes inevitably drag themselves downwards to scan your outfit for the night—a shitty angel without wings and halo (you couldn’t be paid two shits to put in the effort; both of the top and skirt were utahime’s, anyways.) then, his eyes meet yours again, a bit of playfulness in them. 
“well, well,” he drawls, handing you the water bottle. “never thought i’d see you here.”
you take the bottle, trying to ignore the brush of his fingers against yours. “didn’t have much of a choice. utahime dragged me.”
his grin widens. “classic. let me guess—she’s off trying to find her soulmate at the beer pong table?”
“something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. twisting the cap off the bottle,  you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.
“so,” he says, tilting his head, “i heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that spider-man guy this week.”
that makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in kirkland signature natural spring water. you’ve only told like, three people outside of kento and iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. the memory of spider-man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “it was amazing. he’s—he’s incredible, honestly. the way he just swooped in and handled everything? so fast, so precise. he’s like a real-life superhero.”
you’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. he’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “sounds like you’re smitten.”
“maybe i am,” you admit, laughing. “i mean, who wouldn’t be? he’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. it’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” you also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare gojo the details. 
“untouchable, huh?” gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “sounds like someone’s got a crush.”
you roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “don’t be ridiculous.”
“i’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. superheroes are overrated.”
you raise an eyebrow. “and what, you’re not?”
he grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “i’m better. i’m real.” he then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “i can prove that to you.”
and you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “god, you’re insufferable.”
“really?” he teases. his hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. the motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. and your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.
"yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds. 
it seems to have an effect on gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "wastin' your time on that spiderman guy."
maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "who should i spend my time on instead?"
he gives you a little smile as he stares down at you, eyes raking over your face, catching at your lips and then going back up again to meet yours. “i don’t know, someone who’s as smart as you,” he murmurs.
“yea?” you laugh out breathlessly. your faces are so close that in normal circumstances, you would worry about how you both looked so close together, one hand on your thigh and the other splayed on your waist. “and how would you know how smart i am?”
satoru starts, lips coming closer and closer. “because i—”
but he’s interrupted, because you both hear a “satoru” and pull apart, breathing heavily as you both turn to look at the offender standing in the entrance of the kitchen: suguru geto, gojo’s best friend, looking more tired than anything as his eyes catch on you, then going to gojo with a pointed look. it’s not hard to figure out what was going on based on how disheveled you both look, your skirt crooked and his shirt crumbled, and your cheeks heat. before you can say anything, however, suguru sighs and says to gojo, “there’s a burglary happening nearby.” then, he turns but not before giving you a nod. “make sure to stay safe.”
he promptly leaves, leaving you confused standing there. was this such an emergency worth noting that he interrupted his best friend?
you try to seek the answer in gojo’s face, but he has this conflicted, annoyed countenance and you suddenly feel kinda of insecure because he’s raking his hand through his hair, staring painfully at the ceiling then at you. at the same time you utter out a “uh–” he says “i have to go.”
“oh.” you blink. a why brews on top of your tongue, but you temper it, reminding yourself that you’re not close to gojo like that. needless to say, you feel a little embarrassed as you watch him jog out of the kitchen with a little wave to you. you want to overanalyze gojo’s last look to you, the one that looked a bit like disappointment and yearning, but you shake it off, staring at the 16.9 oz plastic water bottle in your hand that you forgot about.
taking a sip, you cringe as you become more aware of your surroundings and the state you’re left in because of gojo. that your panties are a bit more sticky—you reach under your skirt to adjust them so they don’t stick to your crotch so much—and you’re hot all over. 
then reality comes crashing back. what the hell did you and gojo just do right now?
you groan out loud, banging your head against the fridge, but as you reel back, in your peripheral you see  someone there. your head shoots to see the guy who’s now looking at you with a weird expression as he undeniably waits for whatever freaking out you were doing to gain access to the fridge. 
“sorry,” you blurt out, and gather yourself to beeline for the exit. god, you needed to find utahime.
the soft hum of a tv in the corner of satoru’s apartment provided the only sound, save for the faint rustle of suguru flipping through a textbook. the remnants of takeout—boxes of half-eaten pad thai and a pile of discarded chopsticks—littered the coffee table between them. satoru leaned back on the couch, legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling like it held answers he hadn’t thought to ask yet. he held a small foam ball, tossing it up and catching it over and over. his mind, however, wasn’t focused on the ball but on you.
it was starting to feel like an obsession. he’d always been able to compartmentalize things—his studies, his friends, his other responsibilities. but you? you’d broken through the usual barriers in his head, wedging yourself firmly into every free thought he had.
“do you think she likes me?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.
suguru glanced up from his book, his expression unreadable. “who, starbucks girl?”
satoru scoffed. “she’s not starbucks girl. she’s…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers against his knee. your name lingered on his tongue, oddly weighty in a way that felt almost unfamiliar.
suguru smirked. “oh, she’s got a name now? progress.”
“shut up.”
but he couldn’t shut his mind off, not when you kept taking up space in it. it wasn’t just that he’d noticed you now—really noticed you, for the first time. it was more than that.
satoru had always known who you were. you weren’t exactly easy to miss. in a program full of ugly guys who didn’t shower and loud personalities, you had carved out your niche by being the cold, unreachable one. the one who didn’t bother with group projects unless she had to, who barely engaged in conversations beyond what was strictly necessary. other guys in the program talked about you, of course. they always did.
“frigid,” they called you. “too serious. probably thinks she’s better than us.”
they weren’t entirely wrong. you were better than most of them, but not for the reasons they assumed. satoru had read your work—papers that brimmed with insights that most of their half-baked theories could only dream of. he could tell you put in the effort in your classes and research, while all the guys left shit-talking had to rely on their grad student mentors to be able to write a legible paper. for fucks sake, he doesn’t even thing anyone could code in qiskit or cirq like you could; he had skimmed your notes once, left them behind after a lecture, and found them meticulous and sharp before he turned them into the professor to return to you.
and yet, despite the brilliance you carried with you, you had never given him a second glance.
that day at starbucks, though.
satoru rolled his head to the side, gaze drifting toward the window. he hadn’t expected to see anyone at five in the morning, let alone you. he’d been desperate for answers then—he had spent his night staring at his hands, which had seemed to keep ejecting spider-like webs after he’d been horribly sick. he knew he shouldn’t have gone fooling around in new york’s subway tunnels at 3am with suguru and shoko, but after a seemingly-harmless spider had bit him, he had been reeling from the discovery of his newfound powers and grappling with the weight of what they meant ever since. 
and there you were, unlocking the starbucks, bleary-eyed but no less composed.
you’d handed him his coffee, not interested in him the entire time, and he remembered blurting something out—something ridiculous about fate or responsibility, his usual bravado faltering in the quiet of the moment. he had been spiraling, unsure of who he was anymore, and you’d said something.
what was it again?
“it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”
the words had stayed with him, carved deep into the corners of his mind. you didn’t know it, but they had pulled him back from the edge that day. since then, he’d started noticing you in ways he hadn’t before.
the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. the furrow of your brow when you argued as respectfully as you could with a professor (gojo knew you were holding back, though, and the thought always made him smile to himself because if he wasn’t an idgafer he would be incensed like you at the idiotic teacher). the smile—rare, fleeting, but utterly disarming—that occasionally lit up your face when you talked to utahime or that guy you were too friendly around, nanami.
“you’re doing that thing again,” suguru said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“what thing?” satoru asked, sitting up straighter.
“brooding. you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”
“no.”
suguru arched an eyebrow. “you’re a terrible liar.”
satoru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine. maybe i am. but it’s complicated.”
“how is it complicated?”
“she doesn’t like me,” satoru said, shrugging. “at least, not as me. she likes spider-man.”
suguru blinked, clearly unimpressed. “you’re being stupid bro.”
“i’m not being stupid,” satoru argued. “she thinks spider-man’s this amazing, selfless hero. she doesn’t know i’m just some guy who can’t even figure out how to flirt with her without making an ass of himself.”
suguru leaned back in his chair, regarding satoru with an almost pitying look. “so let me get this straight. you’re worried that she only likes spider-man, even though spider-man is you. like it’s some kind of split personality thing?”
“well, when you put it like that—”
“it sounds dumb,” suguru finished. “because it is dumb.”
satoru glared at him, but suguru only shrugged.  but how could he not think about you? even now, the memory of your voice—calm, steady, and unexpectedly warm—echoed in his head. you had this way of looking at him, like you were peeling back layers he didn’t even know he had. and that smile... he groaned inwardly. he wasn’t supposed to be so drawn to you, wasn’t supposed to imagine what it’d feel like to have you smile at him like that all the time.
“look,” suguru continued, “if you like her, shoot your shot. you’re already overthinking this, and you haven’t even done anything yet. what’s the worst that could happen? she says no?”
“or she laughs in my face,” satoru muttered.
“which would be deserved, honestly,” suguru said, smirking. “but seriously, you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.”
satoru didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the takeout boxes on the table. he wanted to believe suguru was right, but there was a small, stubborn part of him that wasn’t so sure.
because it wasn’t just about rejection, or even whether you liked him as satoru or spider-man. it was about what came after. if he let you in and something happened to you—if his double life brought danger to your doorstep—he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.
but then there was suguru���s voice in his head, steady and persistent: you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.
amidst a week of endless projects upon projects and other miscellaneous assignments from your research group partners (since the grad students loved to pile their work on top of you, the helpless undergrad), you find yourself nursing a hot chocolate while on top of your dormitory building’s roof. 
you find sanctuary, coming on here for time to yourself whenever you find yourself stuck in a busy week. quiet, solitary, with a view of the city lights flickering like scattered fireflies. you hugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you stepped onto the roof, your laptop tucked under one arm, a mug of tea precariously balanced in the other hand. the air was crisp, biting just enough to sting your cheeks.
setting your mug down on the ledge, you perched beside it, pulling up your knees and balancing the laptop precariously as you typed. the words on the screen blurred after a while, blending into the chaos in your mind. frustrated, you closed it with a snap and leaned your head back to gaze at the stars.
“rough night?”
you startled, spinning your head around so fast your tea nearly toppled. but you can’t find anyone, just the sound of soft footsteps landing somewhere not visible to you. 
“you scared the hell out of me,” you sighed, clutching your chest.
“sorry,” he said, though his tone didn’t sound all that apologetic. “didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“then maybe don’t sneak up on people like that,” you muttered, still trying to calm your racing heart.
he chuckled, and the sound was warmer than you’d expected. “noted. so, what’s got you out here at three in the morning? don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter.”
you sighed, the initial shock fading into a dull thrum of shyness. “it’s not an all-nighter if the night isn’t over yet.” then, you squint at a random spot, pretending it’s him. “besides, why are you here? shouldn’t you be out stopping robberies or saving cats from trees?”
“done and done,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ledge. “now i’m just enjoying the view.”
you turned your gaze back to the skyline, hoping the darkness hid the faint heat creeping up your neck. “so, what’s a guy like you doing on a random rooftop at three in the morning?”
“could ask you the same thing,” he countered.
you hesitated. for some reason, admitting the truth to him felt easier than admitting it to anyone else. “just…needed a break.”
“from?”
“everything,” you said, exhaling slowly. “classes. expectations. people.” you paused, then added with a faint smile, “not you, though. you’re an exception.”
“oh?” his voice lightened, carrying a hint of playful intrigue. “should i feel honored?”
“maybe,” you said. “it’s not every day you get to meet a real hero.” then, “okay, but why do you always hide in the dark?”
his voice is smug, meant to be playful. “it adds to the mystique?”
you pout. “what if i call the police?”
“it’s not like the cops can catch me anyways, baby. their shitty coffee and donut filled asses aren’t enough to keep up with me.”
you really try not to flush when he calls you that pet name. “is success getting to you?”
“what success? most i hear is everyone debating whether or not i should be experimented on.”
“really?” you teased. “that’s not what i saw on my for you page last time. there are girls out there who want you to sign their tits after you rescued that baby.”
then, you hear the soft thud of nimble feet dropping onto the ceiling and turn your head to see him in all his glory. he has a muscular figure highlighted in his white suit, blue and black lines traveling their way across his body. casually, he stretches and then drops down to the floor, sitting cross legged from across from you as if joining you in a regular gossip sesh. he puts his elbow on his knee and rests his head on his hand. “are you one of those girls?”
you laugh sheepishly, turning away as heat creeps up your face again and your heart hammers, because you can’t exactly tell him that, yes you’re absolutely enamored with him after he saved you that day and yes, you do indeed want him to sign your tits.
“you should do that more,” he said.
“what?” you look back at him, wide eyed in confusion. 
“laugh.”
the way he said it, low and almost reverent, made your cheeks heat. you busy yourself with toying with your cardigan, scooting yourself away from the edge and closer to him. “and you should stop being such a flirt,” you said, though there was no bite in your voice.
“can’t help it,” he said, leaning closer. “it’s kind of my thing.”
“is that right?”
“mm-hmm.” he paused, then added, “you know, there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“what?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.
“take my mask off.”
the words hit you like a gut punch, dissolving the playfulness that had filled the air seconds ago. you blinked up at him, searching his face—or at least what you could see of it—for any sign that this was some elaborate joke. but there was no hint of humor, no smirk tugging at his lips. he meant it.
your fingers hovered at your sides, hesitant. “are you sure?” the question came out soft, barely audible, but it felt like it echoed in the quiet night.
“never been more sure of anything,” he murmured, voice low and steady.
you swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. slowly, almost against your better judgment, you reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of his mask. the fabric felt smooth, warm under your touch, but your nerves were anything but.
with a deep breath, you peeled it back. bit by bit, his face came into view—a shock of white hair, impossibly sharp features, and finally, those eyes. those unmistakable, infuriatingly familiar blue eyes. your breath caught, and for a moment, the world tilted sideways.
“gojo?”
the name fell from your lips before you could stop it, unsteady and disbelieving. your mind raced, trying to piece together the impossible puzzle that had just landed in front of you.
he grinned—that grin, the one that always made you want to slap it off his face and yet somehow managed to disarm you every single time. “hey.”
“hey?” your voice cracked as you took a step back. “that’s all you have to say? hey?”
“would you prefer, ‘surprise’?” he quipped, his grin widening as though this was the most normal thing in the world.
you laughed, the sound a little hysterical but real, like you couldn’t contain the storm of emotions rushing through you. “surprised? you’ve been… you’ve been spider-man this whole time?” the words felt foreign on your tongue, like they didn’t belong in the same sentence as gojo satoru—the one you’d argued with in class, the one who had no problem making you want to tear your hair out. and yet here he was, standing in front of you, the last person you ever would have suspected to be the city’s most infamous masked hero.
gojo gave you that crooked grin, the same one he wore when he thought he had won—when he thought he had it all figured out. “i know. it’s a lot to take in.”
you stared at him, trying to make sense of it, but no amount of logic could bridge the gap between the gojo you knew—the guy who drove you up the wall in class and always had a cocky comeback—and the masked hero who had saved you and the one you had a crush on.
you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry. 
you take a shaky breath in, still trying to process everything. “you... you saved me, gojo. you’ve been right there, all these times, and i had no idea it was you.”
“guess i’m just that good at keeping secrets,” he said, his tone playful, but there was something more there, something softer, that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his eyes held a flicker of something—maybe vulnerability, maybe uncertainty.
the weight of the moment hung thick in the air between you, and for a long second, you didn’t know what to say. this revelation was like the ground beneath you had cracked wide open, and you were left staring into an abyss that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
finally, you shook your head, letting out a short breath. “this is insane.”
he didn’t seem bothered by your reaction, though his eyes darkened just slightly, the smirk still there, but with something a little more honest creeping into his expression. “yeah. but you’re handling it better than i thought. kinda thought you would faint, or something.”
the world had shifted, but somehow, with gojo now sitting in front of you like this, with the mask off and the man behind the myth revealed, it felt like the pieces were finally starting to fall into place. even if they didn’t make perfect sense yet.
and yet, something about his presence—his undeniable realness—felt oddly grounding. he wasn’t the invincible spider-man anymore. he was just gojo. the gojo who had somehow become more than just your academic rival, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than that.
something in gojo’s facial expression shifted to something a bit more hesitant, a little nervous as he stands and extend his arm out to you. softly, he asks, “do you trust me?”
“yes.” you took his hand, standing up as he flashes you a charming, yet mischievous grin, one so shit eating that you regret saying that. “why?”
“i’m taking you for a ride. consider it an apology for freaking you out earlier.”
you hesitated, looking between his outstretched hand and the city skyline just beyond your college campus. “i don’t think this is a good idea—”
“you trust me, don’t you?”
and somehow, against all logic, you realized that you did.
“fine,” you said, stepping closer to him to cling onto him. 
he pulls you closer, and as he does so, he cranes his neck down to meet your eyes, smiling giddy. “anywhere you wanna go?”
you think for a moment, but know immediately the place where you’d like to visit that’s open at this ungodly hour. “do you know that one shawarma joint—-”
before you can even finish, the wind whips around you as gojo slips his mask back on, pulls you closer to him, and uses his free hand—that is, the one that’s not clinging onto your firmly—to shoot a glistening web, one that you saw when he used it on the man who harassed you in the ally. it clings onto a nearby building, and then you’re off the ground, soaring through the air.
you let out a scream of terror against gojo’s chest, tightening your arms around him. you can feel a laugh rumble in his chest, a boyish chuckle as he peers down at you and shouts, “are you having fun?” 
“gojo,” you whine, burying your head into his chest further. despite your initial fear, exhilaration creeps its way into you as you the city blur, skyline jumping and dipping as gojo effortlessly swung you both around. 
when he finally stopped, landing gracefully on a secluded rooftop, you were breathless—not just from the ride but from the way he was looking at you.
“you good?” he laughed, panting from the exertion and tenderly using his hand to rake his hand through your  hair, which, you note out of embarrassment, must’ve been messed up from the wind passing through it.
“i hate that you made me dizzy, but yea, i’m good,” you mumble, pulling out your phone to open your camera, fixing your hair.
when you’re done, gojo looks at you with the manic buzz you can only have at 3am. “ready to get some shawarma?”
the streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence only a city at 3am could have. just the two of you, your footsteps echoing against the pavement, the occasional glow of a streetlamp painting your path.
“okay, that shawarma was like, mid at best,” gojo walks alongside you. he’s thrown on a sweatshirt and gray sweatpants over his suit, walking alongside you on the street. your stomachs are full, and you suggested a walk to be able to digest the bigass bowl you both ate.
“nothing tastes better than something you’re eating when you’re supposed to be studying, instead,” you shot back, hiding your little smile as you cross your arms while strolling. the shift between you and gojo was so jarring that you’re still reeling at it, but what is 3am if not for big life changes?
“yea, that’s fair,” he sighs, crossing his hands behind his head as he continues strolling beside you.  “so,” he continues, “now that i’ve officially blown your mind with my secret identity and fed you some incredibly mid shawarma, what’s next? should i fly you to paris, or is that too cliché?”
you roll your eyes, but deep inside, you’re really biting back a grin. “relax, bugboy. maybe first let me recover from being swung like a human pendulum.”
gojo stopped walking, turning to face you with a playful glint in his eye. “you’re still thinking about that, huh? admit it—you loved it.”
you raised an eyebrow. “i screamed into your chest for a solid ten seconds. does that sound like love to you?”
he tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “i dunno. there’s a fine line between terror and thrill. and judging by how tightly you were holding onto me…”
“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your voice lacked bite.
“and yet, you’re still here.”
his words hung in the air, the playful edge softening into something quieter, more sincere. your steps faltered, and you looked up at him, the absurdity of the night fading into the background as your gaze held his.
“guess i’m curious,” you admitted.
“curious, huh?” he said, taking a step closer. “careful. curiosity killed the cat.”
without thinking, you blurted, “at least i’ve got a fifty-fifty shot, right?” the words barely left your mouth before the regret hit, your inner voice screaming at you for making a lame quantum mechanics joke at a time like this. schrödinger would be proud, you thought bitterly.
but then gojo laughed—not the teasing, obnoxious kind of laugh or the weird look you’d expect, but a genuine, boyish chuckle that reached his eyes. he smiled at you, soft and unguarded, and suddenly, the space between you seemed to shrink.
the flickering streetlamp cast a warm, uneven glow over the two of you. in that moment, the sprawling city felt impossibly small, narrowed down to just him and the pounding of your heart in your ears.
gojo reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “you know,” he murmured, his voice low, “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.”
your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest. “do what?”
“this.”
before you could respond, he closed the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both soft, yet electrifying. for a moment, time seemed to stop, the city around you fading into nothing as the warmth of his touch anchored you in the moment.
when he finally pulled back, his grin was back in full force. “so, was that better or worse than shawarma?”
you blinked at him, still trying to find your footing in the aftermath of what just happened. an immediate feeling of bashfulness crept over you because not only did you just kiss spiderman, you just kissed gojo. there are girls who would kill to be in your position, and that makes you flustered as you turn your head away from him so you don’t have to make eye contact. “i hate you,” you mumble half heartedly, cheeks burning.
gojo doesn’t let you off so easily. his thumb brushes gently along your chin, coaxing your face back toward his. his touch is warm, deliberate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
“oh my god,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “are you embarrassed? you’re so cute.”
when the warmth of his hand leaves your chin, you open your eyes, shocked as you find out that he’s nowhere to be seen. you call out a tentative, “gojo?” 
somewhere behind you, to the left, comes out a muffled shout. “i’m here!” you whip around, your brows furrowing as you follow the direction of his voice. it’s coming from an alley just off the street, dark and bathed in shadows.
“seriously?” you mutter under your breath, your annoyance half-hearted, making your way toward the sound. you find yourself at the mouth of the alley, the dim glow of a distant lamp barely illuminating his silhouette.
gojo’s perched on the side of the wall like it’s the most natural thing in the world, one leg propped up, his mask pulled halfway up to reveal that damn smirk. “you’re slow,” he teases, his tone light and infuriatingly smug.
“what are you doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.
he gestures toward himself. “you came looking for me, didn’t you?”
you roll your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself. “what, did you think i’d just leave you lurking in some alley like a creepy insect?”
“well,” he says, shooting a web to stick on the bottom of some stairs of one of the buildings to hang upside down, “you could’ve left, but i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”
before you could retort, he shoots his web closer to something on top of you, now dangling upside down yet again but his proximity even closer, stealing the air from your lungs. his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just long enough to make your knees feel unsteady.
“so,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “are we doing this again, or are you gonna keep pretending you hate me?”
your heart stutters, but before you can overthink it, you pull his mask down even further to uncover more of his lips, and you join them together—this time, softer, slower, as if savoring the moment. you grab at his chin to pull him closer to you, you both sighing into the kiss, and then smiling giddily each time you pull back, only to come back in.
and just like that, you start to fall into…something with not only the vigilante that’s swinging around new york, but also gojo satoru, your long-time rival.
when satoru swings by your dorm next, he doesn’t expect his heart to lurch so much at the view of you so cozy.
it’s undeniable; you and satoru have been dancing around each other. you’re not exactly a hook-up to each other—you two haven’t had sex—but you’re not exactly girlfriend and boyfriend. and it’s not something casual, either. he doesn’t reveal that he’s spiderman just to get into girls’ pants. 
you’ve both developed a sort of rapport, he supposes. it’s been stolen glances during phys401 and late nights spent talking or, occasionally, making out. you’ve even started to nurse his wounds, if he ever shows up with bruises and blood matting his suit. one of the perks of you having a single. 
he’s even fallen asleep overnight, especially on friday nights when he doesn’t have lecture in the morning. some of his things, like some spare equipment and suits, have even found their way into your closet. 
you’re both on a dangerous roller coaster, and satoru is closing his eyes on the fall down. 
but right now, he’s perched outside your window like a creep. you’re sitting on your bed, cross-legged and squinting at something on your laptop, and satoru smiles to himself as he sees your tank top and shorts and just how homey you look. you probably know satoru is coming, but you’re so comfortable around him that it makes his heart ache. he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop.
satoru lightly taps on your window, his knuckle brushing against the glass softly, not wanting to startle you. you glance up, catching sight of him, and there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips.
you get up, and satoru follows the movement of your bare legs with his eyes as you slide the window open. “you know, most people knock on doors like normal humans,” you say.
“i like to keep things interesting,” he shoots back, climbing in effortlessly. the faint chill from the night clings to him, and his hair is slightly disheveled from the wind.
he glances around your room, catching sight of your scattered notes and the distinct look of frustration etched across your face. “what’s got you looking so miserable?”
“phys401,” you reply with a resigned sigh, flopping back onto your bed. “this problem set is impossible.”
satoru smirks, peeling off his gloves and mask and plopping down beside you. “let me see.”
acquiescing, you hand over your notebook, watching as he scans your work with intent, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to understand the statement to prove. he makes a few thoughtful noises, before grabbing a pen and scribbling something down. “here,” he says after a moment, “you’re overcomplicating this step. instead of doing the tensor product you did, you could just make this zero by taking an inner product, since they’re orthogonal states. the rest will fall into place.”
you squint at his messy, rushed handwriting, and sure enough, the proof seems to come together. “how are you so good at this?” 
“physics prodigy, remember?” he teases, leaning back on his hands as he lays down on your bed.
“thanks for the help,” you say softly, your eyes lingering on him a beat too long. he’s kind of dreamy, you think. the moonlight filters across your window, giving his platinum hair a sheen as his cerulean eyes look into yours with kindness. 
his smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something unspoken. “anytime.” he then makes a show of stretching out his limbs, purposely bumping into you with one eye open smugly to observe your reaction, to which you glare at him. he spots your notebook, picks it up, and flips through it. “you know, for someone who complains so much about phys401, you’re not half bad at it,” he teases, scribbling something in the margin of your notes by grabbing a stray pen next to him.  
you roll your eyes, shifting so you’re cross-legged on the bed, facing him. “not all of us are physics prodigies, satoru. some of us actually have to work hard.”  
he chuckles, handing the notebook back to you. “hard work is overrated when you can just charm your way through everything.”  
you snort and joke, “if charm was all it took, i’d have aced the midterm.”  
there’s a beat of silence as you glance down at his notes. he’s corrected a mistake you hadn’t even noticed, and his scrawled proof flows so effortlessly it makes you a little envious. “how do you do that?” you ask, more to yourself than him.  
“do what?”  
“make it look so… easy,” you say, frowning slightly. “everything. physics, life, swinging through the city.”  
satoru leans back on his palms, his smirk softening. “trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks.”  
you glance up at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. “what do you mean?”  
he shrugs, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze flickers away from yours. “i mean, everyone sees the guy with the jokes and the perfect test scores, but no one sees the late nights or the bruises.” he gestures vaguely to his chest, where you know the bruises from his spider-man escapades hide. “guess i’m just good at pretending.”  
you sit with his words, the weight of them settling between you. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you say softly.  
his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the mask—the real one—drops. “i know,” he says, just as softly.  
the air between you feels heavier, like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, the faint smell of the night clinging to him, the way his knee brushes against yours.  
“thanks,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “for letting me be here. for…” he trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up.  
your breath catches. “satoru…”  
“yeah?” he says, leaning in slightly, his voice lower now.  
“i…” you trail off, not even sure what you were going to say.  
he leans closer, and it feels like everything around you stills. his hand finds its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “can i?” he asks, his voice barely audible.  
you nod, and then his lips are on yours.  
the kiss starts tentative, almost shy, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. it deepens, his hand sliding to your waist as you pull him closer. the tension that had been building for weeks—months, maybe—finally snaps, leaving nothing but heat and want in its wake.  
his weight presses you back into the bed, and you can feel his heart racing against yours as he pins you to the bed, now on top of you. his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and as his thumb traces shapes into your circle and closer to more sensitive areas, a sigh escapes you.  
that’s when he freezes.  
he pulls back, his breathing uneven, his eyes wide and filled with something like fear. “we can’t,” he says, his voice hoarse.  
your heart drops into your chest.
“why not?” you ask, trying to catch your breath.  
“because,” he says, sitting up and running a hand through his hair and he’s heaving. “because i’m spider-man, and you—” he breaks off, looking anywhere but at you. “you deserve better than this. better than me.”  
you sit up, pulling your shirt back into place and looking at him, hurt. “that’s not your call to make, satoru.”  
“i’m trying to protect you!” he says, his voice rising in agitation. he sits back onto his heels, raking a hand through his hair as he looks at the ceiling, as if in pain.
you can’t believe him. his self-righteousness irritates you to no end, especially after you’ve bared your soul, and now your body to him, something you considered intimate. you feel conflicted—whatever you had, it didn’t have a label. but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want that to be true. badly.
“and who asked you to?” you snap back. “i’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving.”  
“i know that,” he says, his tone softening. “but if something happened to you because of me…” he shakes his head. “i couldn’t live with that.”  
the anger bubbling in your chest boils over, and you snap. “so what? you’re just going to walk away? after everything?”  
he stands, his expression pained. “i’m sorry,” he says, heading for the window.  
“don’t you dare apologize,” you say, your voice trembling as you stand by the foot of your bed, hating how your eyes brim with tears. “if you leave, don’t bother coming back.”  
he pauses, his hand on the window frame, before glancing back at you. “i’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, before slipping out into the night.  
the window clicks shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence, the ache in your chest threatening to swallow you whole. 
the whir of the espresso machine and the gentle hum of background music fill the mostly empty starbucks, the occasional customer wandering in like clockwork. it’s a quiet shift, the kind you’d usually relish—except today, the quiet only makes the knot in your chest tighten.
you’re stationed behind the counter, staring blankly at the milk steamer as it hisses, lost in your thoughts. that is, until utahime’s voice breaks through.
“alright, spill,” she says, leaning her elbows on the counter beside you.
you glance at her, eyebrows raised. “spill what?”
utahime rolls her eyes, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “oh, please. you look like someone stole your favorite pen and broke it in half. what’s going on?”
“nothing,” you lie, turning back to the steamer. “i’m fine.”
utahime’s skeptical gaze bores into you. “you’re a terrible liar. nanami, back me up.”
from his spot at a nearby table, nanami looks up from his book, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto you. “it’s boy trouble,” he says flatly, like he’s solving an equation.
your head snaps toward him, a glare already forming. “excuse me?”
“it’s obvious,” he says, setting his book down and regarding you with his usual piercing gaze. “you’re distracted, you look upset—it’s boy trouble.”
utahime perks up, leaning closer. “wait, is he right? is this about a guy?”
you let out a groan, leaning your elbows on the counter. “can you two not gang up on me right now?”
“so it is a guy,” utahime says, her tone turning smug.
“i didn’t say that,” you retort, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.
nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. “you might as well just tell us. it’s not like we’re going to let it go.”
you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “fine. it’s… someone i liked. someone i thought liked me too. but he freaked out and said it was too…dangerous to keep going.”
utahime frowns, her curiosity replaced by concern while kento snorts. “dangerous? what does that even mean?”
“that’s what i’d like to know,” you say bitterly, the frustration bubbling up as you speak. “he acts like he cares, but the second things get serious, he bolts. like i’m some fragile thing that can’t handle it.”
nanami leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “he might not be scared of you. he could be scared of what it means for him. of responsibility and commitment. some people run when they feel too much.”
utahime nods, her hand resting gently on your arm. “whatever his problem is, it’s not fair to you. if he can’t get it together, that’s on him, not you.”
you glance between them, the weight of their words settling in your chest. “i know that,” you say quietly. “it just… sucks.”
“of course it does,” utahime says, her voice soft but firm. “but you’re not the problem here. don’t let him make you think you are.”
nanami picks up his book again but pauses before opening it. “and don’t let him live rent-free in your head. if he can’t see what he’s giving up, that’s his loss.”
their support feels grounding, like a steady hand in the middle of a storm. you manage a small smile, nodding. “thanks, guys.”
“anytime,” utahime says, flashing you a reassuring grin. nanami simply nods, returning to his book but keeping an eye on you like always. for the first time all week since gojo left your room, the heaviness in your chest feels a little lighter.
the knock at your window is faint, almost timid, but it jolts you out of your daze. you sit up in bed, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the window. it’s late—so late it’s early—and for a moment, you think you imagined it. you hate to admit it, but because of your boy troubles you haven’t been able to sleep all week. you’re also no stranger to imagining ants crawling up your body or phantom noises, so you adjust in your bed, trying to go back to sleep.
then it comes again, a little louder this time.
you throw off the blanket and pad over, the chill of the floor biting at your bare feet. when you pull the curtain aside, your breath catches.
satoru.
he’s crouched outside, his suit torn in places and soaked with blood. his head lolls slightly, like he’s barely holding himself up, and when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, it’s tired and pleading.
you don’t think—there’s no time for that. you unlatch the window and shove it open, reaching out to help him inside. “satoru, oh my god,” you breathe, your voice shaking.
“hey,” he mutters, his grin weak but still so unmistakably him. “sorry for the mess.”
“shut up,” you snap, guiding him onto your bed and setting him down with gentle hands, ones that contrast your tone with him. “what the hell happened?”
“nothing i couldn’t handle,” he says, wincing as he tries to sit up straighter and flashes you a sheepish smile. “you should see the other guy.”
“you’re bleeding everywhere, satoru. you clearly didn’t handle it.” you grab your first aid kit from under the bed and yank it open, your hands trembling.
“i’ve had worse,” he murmurs, but his bravado is thin, cracking at the edges.
“stop talking,” you say, your voice trembling and cracking. “just—just stop.”
for once, you thank the gods that he listens.
you work quickly, cutting away the shredded fabric of his suit and cleaning the worst of the wounds. it’s not pretty—his torso is littered with bruises and gashes, the kind that make your stomach turn—but you keep your focus.
when you press a disinfectant-soaked pad to a particularly deep cut, he hisses, his hand flying to grab your wrist.
“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him with a tender look in your eyes. his expression matches yours, and your faces are so close to each other that you can’t bear it anymore, going back to your work.
his fingers loosen but don’t let go, his grip warm and grounding. “you’re good at this,” he says softly, his voice rough.
“yeah, well,” you mutter, ducking your head to avoid his gaze. “you’ve given me plenty of practice.”
the silence stretches as you finish bandaging him up. when you’re done, you sit back, your hands still trembling as you place them in your lap. “you’re an idiot,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
he laughs, soft and hoarse. “yeah. i get that a lot from this girl i know.”
you look up at him, and the weight of everything—his injuries, his secret, the distance he tried to put between you—crashes over you. “you can’t keep doing this, satoru. you can’t keep pushing me away just to show up like this.”
his smile fades, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “i know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know, but…”
“but what?” you demand, your voice cracking. “you’re spider-man? you think that’s an excuse to keep shutting me out?”
“it’s not an excuse,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair, matted with even more blood. his or someone else’s, you’re not sure. “it’s a reason. i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
“you think i’m not already hurting?” you snap, the anger bubbling to the surface yet again. “you think it doesn’t kill me to see you like this and know i can’t do anything to stop it?”
his eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like a little boy, lost and unsure. it is then that it hits you that he’s just twenty. a college student, not someone who’s wanted by the cia or someone who’s battled terrorists. for fucks sake, he can’t even legally drink. 
and your heart can’t help but melt as he says, “i just… i don’t want to lose you.”
“then stop trying to,” you say, your voice softer now. “stop pretending like you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length. let me in, satoru.”
he stares at you, his breath hitching like he’s holding back a thousand words. then, in a rush, he closes the distance between you, his hands cradling your face as he presses his forehead to yours.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.”
you exhale shakily, your hands finding their way to his wrists. “just stop being an idiot, okay? stop trying to do this alone.”
he nods, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “i promise,” he says, and for the first time, you believe him.
a cramp gripping satoru’s entire leg is what wakes him up. 
he winces in memory of the injury; one of those stupid terrorists had too good of an aim, grazing his leg while he was mid-air. it hurts like a bitch now, and he moves to lay on his back, until something stops him. roses.
he looks, bleary eyed, to you. the floral scent coming from you, making him dizzy. his body cocooning yours. 
you both unconsciously moved in your sleep so that you were spooning, your fragrant hair, soft from shampooing, tickling his throat with your ass in his crotch.
nestled right against his morning wood.
good fucking lord, he groans to himself, then starts to panic because if you wake up and realize he had a raging hard-on while you were sleeping, you would definitely think he was a creep. he’s already on thin fucking ice. so naturally, he starts to recite the star spangled banner while trying to will his boner away.
oh, say can you see—
to no avail, because you huff softly in your sleep, soft and warm body unconsciously leaning back to grind your ass against his lap, turning his dick to steel.
“oh, fuck,” he curses out loud, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face and clench his eyes shut. you feel so sweet, innocently adjusting while he can’t even control his lust for you.
but once the grind seems to continue for a bit too long, more than what can be chalked up as adjusting in your sleep, he peers down at you. you’re awake. 
and because satoru’s selfish, his hands creep up your tank top, settling on your bare stomach, where he knew you were ticklish. as a result, you wiggle, and he uses this opportunity to pull you even closer to him, right up against him. 
“baby,” he says, making his voice all deep and sighs on purpose, just to be unfair to you. “is this okay?”
you whine, and he settles his face in your hair, the strands of it tickling his skin as he inhales in the scent of you. “i thought it was a dream.”
he smiles into your hair. you make him feel like sunshine incarnate, and the rush he’s getting right now is akin to the one he gets jumping off the empire state building. “no, this is very real.”
“hm,” and you continue to drag your ass into him, murmuring in a soft voice that makes him want to take you right there and then, “it still feels like a dream. like you’re not real, right now.”
oh, what he would do to make you say his name in that same voice; he wants to whisper all the things he wants to do to you right now. “i know, baby. you feel like a dream.” his hands continue to slide up and up your torso, groaning at your sharp intake as he gently fondles the softness of your breasts. 
you overwhelm his senses, teasing him, and when you let out a whine of his name, satoru snaps.
“i’m going to make you feel good right now. tell me if it’s a fucking dream,” he grits out, ignoring whatever cramps that were screaming at him to get on top of you. 
you gasp out a “satoru,” wriggling in his grasp, and he can’t take it anymore. he brings up one of his hands. shoots a web that lands right on your left hand. then your right hand.
satoru just tied you up using his webs.
you look at him in whatever version of shock you can muster in your tired state. “satoru, what the—” but you’re muffled, because he’s kissing you, hard, roving his hands up and down your body and grabbing whatever he can as if he’s devouring you while making out with you.
“do you know,” and his eyes flash dangerously while looking down at yours, “how you’ve teased me with these shorts?” his hands trails down to the waistband of the offending piece of clothing, pulling it to make it snap against your skin. you jump, looking at satoru desperately, who’s left you bare at his mercy, subject to his super human strength as he grabs your shorts with both his hands again. “every fucking time i’ve sneaked up in to your room, it’s been so hard to not fuck you senseless in these flimsy things. it’s only fair you pay the price, right baby?”
it’s not like you have anything to answer him with, having lost all brain cells being fucked out like this. he pulls them down, and if he had laser vision, he would have stared through your panties long ago, eyes fixated on the crotch that was nearly translucent with the amount of slick going through it. burying his face right in between your thighs, he noses at your cunt before groaning. then, he uses his teeth to grab onto the middle and pull. until your pussy is bare to him.
“oh, fuck you’re so pretty,” he curses, lapping at your sweetness. his tongue roves up and down your folds, and if your hands could, they would be pulling at his hair solely because you were so sensitive. but you were trapped, thighs gripped in his strong hands and your arms trapped by his ultra-strong webs. “my good girl.”
then, you feel pressure at your opening. “sato—” you squeal but are immediately interrupted by your own moan as he curls his long, thick fingers, eyes observing your every movement as you squirm, electric shocks running up and down your body as he hits your spot dead-on.
and he notices, because the motherfucker chuckles. “oh, so that’s the spot, huh?” he purrs, visibly pleased as he memorizes it and abuses it, hitting it with every stroke. you barely notice him add one finger, add two fingers as he starts to suck on your clit. overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re only brought back to reality when he rips all contact away from you.
“what—” you mumble mindlessly, until you see what he’s doing. he pulls his sweatpants down. and he’s not wearing boxers, so you drool when his cock springs out, leaking copiously and hard. without taking his eyes off you, he pumps it to its fullest length, and you’re just staring in awe at its sheer length.
“what’re you looking at, baby?” he teases, using his hand to wiggle his cock in front of your face to mock you. “want it so bad, isn’t that right?”
you glare at him half-heartedly, but whine regardless. “just put it in, gojo.”
“oh,” and he flashes you a smile that makes a big danger sign in red flash across your mind. “it’s gojo, now is it?”
 “satoru,” there are tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, the ones that make satoru even more aroused at your want, “please. i need it.”
a boyish grin and a forehead kiss that has you reeling at his duality. “anything for my woman in stem.” with that, he pushes in, both of your eyes rolling back as his cock is engulfed by your gummy walls. soon after, he starts thrusting, desperation fueling both of you as you cross your legs behind gojo’s back, the deeper angle making his thighs shake while fucking into you. 
he grabs your face, gives you a tender kiss. “fuck, i love this pussy. so sweet for me.” 
you give him a wanton moan in return as he continues to thrust deep, tender strokes into you. “satoru, ‘m not gonna last long.” with the amount of foreplay he’s done alongside how sensitive you are, you’re steadily reaching your orgasm already, and with the way satoru’s now tightly gripping the sheets beside you while thrusting inside you, he is too.
wet squelching noises echoes across the room, and you know the neighbors can hear the obscene plap! plap! plap! coming from skin meeting skin, your hips against his. he buries his face into your neck, panting at your ear until he uses his hand to wrench your face towards his.
“i love you,” he groans, forcing your eyes to meet his. “i love you forever and will do so. so you can’t break my heart,” and he’s desperately thrusting again, “and you can’t leave me. please.”
at his confession, you break, back arching as you also squeal out a iloveyou while gasping loudly, hips rolling to rise against his as he fucks you through your orgasm. quickly, his thrusts veer into overstimulation and you whine. “toru.” he takes one look at your state—face impossibly flushed, hands tied, and pussy absolutely engulfing his cock, and his orgasm hits him like a truck, making him gasp and bend and break as he goes to heaven and back with the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy clench around him so beautifully. his cum enters you in hot spurts, making you exhale sharply at the feeling as he comes down from his orgasm, collapsing next to you.
for a few minutes, heavy breathing fills the room, both of you catching your breaths. until satoru breaks the silence. “so, what’s it like to fuck a superhero?”
you take one look at him—all smug and propped up on his elbow—and spidey sense be damned as you try grab a pillow. key word is try because you’re then wrenched back with a reminder that you’re still bound. “satoru,” and you give him a sickly sweet smile, the one that he knows means he’s in trouble, “when are these going to dissolve?”
and satoru pretends to be deep in thought, but you can see him trying to inch off the bed slowly, as if to escape your wrath after his answer. “uhm…maybe five hours?”
if it weren’t for the damn spidey sense that he had, he wouldn’t have been able to escape the swing of your legs as you looked at him murderously. “satoru gojo you will unhand me from these webs this instant—-“
“i don’t know,” he shrugs, shit eating grin in his face. “you look kinda sexy in bed like this. mad at me.” but when your eyes flash with anger, he hiccups nervously, telltale of the fact he won’t mess with you.
“i hate you,” you groan out, pouting like a petulant child while you glare at the ceiling.
 satoru comes close to you to bend at his waist and give you a forehead kiss. “no, you don’t.” 
you give him a pointed glare, telling him not to be testy. “clean me up. now.”
at your expression, his eyes widen in fear and he salutes. “anything for you, ma’am.”
at his retreating form, you giggle and sigh to yourself. you never would’ve known that spider-man would be the one fetching a clean up rag for you after fucking the shit out of you, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
when satoru comes back, he cleans you up, tenderly, as if he is afraid that you will break. you’re a little drowsy when he returns to you, but he doesn’t dare try to wake you up when he hears little breaths from your nose indicating you’ve fallen asleep. after he finishes his job, he admires your features.
satoru lingers for a moment, his gaze softening as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. the weight of his responsibilities presses on him, as it always does, but tonight, it feels heavier—like a tether pulling him between the life he’s chosen and the life he craves.
you, so peaceful in sleep, represent something fragile, something precious. and that terrifies him. because what if he fails? what if the cost of being spider-man is losing the one thing that feels real?
still, he knows he can’t walk away—not from this city, not from you. with a deep breath, he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead, a silent promise lingering in his chest.
“i’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, barely audible. “no matter what.”
instead of leaving, satoru settles down beside you, careful not to disturb your rest. the city can wait, just for a little while. for now, he wraps an arm around you, grounding himself in the warmth of your presence. as your breathing evens out against him, he lets his own eyes drift shut, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifting. today, he chooses to stay.
Tumblr media
kinktober masterlist | general masterlist
a/n ok if you're ever curious what being fucked in the ass with a wooden dildo no lube is like, just try to write this fic or any longfic. it's 4am, this a/n is short and unintelligble just like most of this fic but it's been a journey, im very sentimental because of this fic and i hope you guys like it. ok im going to pass out so pls ignore all typos xoxo but please flood my inbox im excited to see yalls reactions when i wake up
plspls pls comment and reblog!!!
TAGLIST
@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae
@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom
@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666
@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits @ramonathinks
@creamflix
10K notes · View notes
kimmkitsuragi · 1 year ago
Text
i thought i would have Even More Fun when astarion started to like me. now he wont stop saying things like "my dear" or even worse. "lover". help
1 note · View note
sleepymarimo · 1 year ago
Text
𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣!
summary: the first time you make their heart skip a beat, w/ monster trio + law! pairing(s): luffy x gn!reader, zoro x gn!reader, sanji x gn!reader, law x gn!reader cw: none! an: ahhhh idk how to feel about this one but i hope you enjoy :') 👐
Tumblr media
luffy
there are a lot of things that get luffy's heart racing.
a good meal. a cool looking fish. a killer party. all of it makes this captain happy, because he revels in the adventure. he lives for the moment. he feels deeply and strongly, a trait that acts as a double edged sword.
like now, as a torrent of anger and worry swirl in his chest and weigh him down. he's running through some dense woods, bursting through trees and falling down hills, a look of determination on his face.
an enemy had managed to sneak up on the crew.
what's worse? they ran off. with you.
luffy doesn't think twice. he pushes through anything in his way for the sake of finding you before things got too rough. as he runs, he finds the enemy's actions cowardly. someone using you to draw him out makes him irritate. he doesn't care if he's falling into some trap; he'd deal with whatever was put in front of him so long as he could rescue you.
he's worried for your well being, of course he is. even though he can't see you, he can feel you. his observation haki lets him know how frightened you are, a fact that makes him all the more angry.
then finally, in the distance, he catches sight of you.
you're in a clearing, the enemy looming over you. they're raising a weapon in your direction, much too close.
luffy feels his blood boil. he grabs ahold of some trees, running backwards and preparing to launch himself in your direction as fast as he can. his rubber arms grow taut as he stretches, his mind set on rescuing you.
an annoyed huff leaves him when he hears the enemy taunting you, threatening your life and mocking your ambitions. it has luffy's anger rising, because there was no way he'd let your dreams get made fun of. by anyone.
his thoughts become hazy, his strong feelings taking hold of his actions.
then, luffy hears it. it's like a melody, absolute music to his ears.
your laugh.
ba-dum! ba-dum!
his head clears.
he can feel a big smile curling at his lips. his grin is all teeth, his eyes shining with equal parts pride and mischief. it's like a fire has been lit in his soul, like he's a toy that's just been wound up to the max.
even in your current predicament, even when you're utterly terrified, you have faith in yourself. in him.
if you can laugh, then so can he.
finally, he yells out his signature move, launching himself at the enemy and landing a punch so hard that it makes the air itself tremble.
"luffy!" you call with some tears prickling in your eyes, your limbs still shaky from the adrenaline. your smile falters at the edges, relief flooding your body. "you made it!"
your captain comes to life upon seeing your smile up close, his heart beating like a drum. his rubber arms wrap around you and he squeezes you to his chest, his laughter ringing in your ears.
"of course i did!" he grins, grabbing you by the hand and urging you to run with him to the ship. his grip on you is tight and secure. glancing back at you, he can't help but feel grateful to have you with him on this journey.
he snickers, letting emotion run through him without restriction. "you made my heart feel funny!"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
zoro
after another victory, the straw hat pirates found themselves reveling in drinks, food and company.
for a while, the swordsman finds himself amidst the other heavy drinkers. he grins and knocks back bottle after bottle, content with listening to the animated conversations around him and observing the party.
eventually though, he craves some solitude. and so, he heads off towards a less occupied area where he can drink in peace.
he basks in isolation, until you manage to find your way to him. a big grin is on your face and he can't help but reciprocate with a small smirk when he notices your inebriated state. unceremoniously, you plop down next to him at a respectable distance.
“hey zo', gimme some!” you nod towards the large bottle he holds, completely immersed in the light, upbeat atmosphere. one of your hands even reaches out, making a sort of grabbing motion.
he possessively tightens his grip on the bottle, his expression hardening slightly as his brows furrowed. "hah? this is mine, go grab your own bottle."
"i don't wanna full drink, jus' need a little more and i'll be good." you answer, well aware of your limits. your tone becomes pleading as you look up at him with puppy dog eyes. "one sip. please?"
with a groan, he relents. he grumbles something about you being lucky that he's in such a good mood, before extending the bottle in your direction.
yet, it appears that you have some more tricks up your sleeve.
instead of grabbing the bottle, you simply tilt your head back and let your mouth hang open. you make an 'ah' sound, waiting for him to bestow you with the gift of alcohol.
he's a little taken aback at first. seriously? you wanted him to pour it for you? ugh, fine...
he rolls his eye and uses his free hand to firmly hold your jaw steady and open, bringing the bottle up and pouring the sake into your mouth.
your hand rests on his, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over his knuckles.
it's all fine at first, until his eyes lock with yours. in that moment, he seems to acknowledge the intimacy of the act, something primal stirring in his gut as he looked down at you. his cheeks redden.
ba-dum! ba-dum!
his muscles tense and he goes almost still. he gets so distracted that his hand moves upwards, effectively drowning your face with sake. your head snaps back into its natural position and you start to cough, the alcohol burning your nostrils.
you give the swordsman an incredulous look, wiping the excess sake from your face. “what the hell was that for?”
“you’re the one that moved!” he sharply replies, even though he knows damn well that you were sitting good and still for him.
focusing inward, he seems pleased to feel that his heart is once again thumping steadily. unwavering. what an odd feeling it was, to have his strong heart skip a beat.
i'll deal with that later. he thinks, not at all wanting to open that can of worms.
so, he takes another swig from the bottle and uses one of his large hands to pat you on the back as you continued to cough up sake.
“oi, don’t waste good booze.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
sanji
the cook wasn't used to being spoiled. he's always been a giver, someone who provides and never takes.
he basked in the smiles that formed on the faces of his crew mates, his family, whenever he made them a good meal or protected them. he never asks for anything in return. however, that doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t be shown appreciation every now and then.
currently, he's on night watch.
a thick blanket is wrapped around his shoulders, the cold wind nipping at his cheeks and painting them a reddish color. a cigarette hangs from his lips, his breaths coming out as white puffs against the dark sky.
out of the corner of his eye, he can see light pouring out from the kitchen window. how long has that been on? his brows furrow in suspicion as he makes his way over, half-expecting to see luffy attempting to crack open the pantry.
yet when he opens the door, his posture immediately relaxes and he practically melts as he sees you. you're in your pajamas, hunched over the stove with a focused expression. he takes note of the cookbook laid out on the counter, guiding you as you prepared a dish.
he calls your name, his limbs turning to mush as he approached you. "what are you doing here so late? if you're hungry, i'll make you some-"
his nose twitches as he catches the scent of what you're making.
he knows it well because it happens to be one of his favorite dishes. coincidentally, it was one of your least favorites, the scent of it rather unbearable to you.
"you're... you're making..." his cigarette threatens to tumble out of his lips as he gives you a bewildered expression.
he can see your nose briefly scrunch up before you give him a smile, one of your hands holding a wooden spoon and mixing up ingredients on a pan. "yeah. i hope i'm making it right. i mean, it won't be as good as yours anyway, but still."
"mon amour, you shouldn't. i know how much you can't stand the smell of it." he tries to usher you away, placing a hand on yours and insisting that he didn't want you to be queasy. "why're you making this, mon amour? did someone ask you to?"
you shrug and keep a firm hold on the wooden spoon, replying like the answer was obvious. "because i thought it'd make you happy."
ba-dum! ba-dum!
his cigarette does fall to the floor. the hand that's over yours tightens, perhaps his way of grounding himself. he's speechless for a moment, something shaking him down to his very center.
he could almost cry.
"sanji?" you ask, a little concerned for the chef as his eyes seemed to glaze over.
the blond snaps out of it, giving you a smile that's so warm it makes you wonder if the sun had just come up. there's none of that surface level attraction or lust in his gaze, only an authentic appreciation.
thank you. he thinks, feeling light. thank you for caring.
his eyes close as he once again takes in the scent of the dish you're preparing. "it smells great, mon amour. better than anything i've ever made, i’m sure of it."
"i doubt that." you laugh, downplaying his compliment. with a nod, you resume cooking. "it'll be finished by the time you're done with your watch. i can handle it."
sanji thanks you once more, his heart feeling full. returning to his post, he allows you to do something kind for him. he allows himself to take, without worrying about having to repay you.
he quells any lingering thoughts of insecurity and self-doubt, focusing instead on the meal that's sure to be waiting for him in the morning.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
law
it was a couple weeks ago that law made the decision to educate the crew a bit more on medical practices.
the surgeon knew that he couldn’t always be around to provide assistance to the crew, so it was only logical that he trained everyone in basic first aid, including you. day after day, he trained everyone, one at a time.
was it a lot? yes. however, law liked to be prepared and felt comfort in being thorough with his teachings, regardless of how tedious it was.
so, finally it was your day to be trained under his watchful eye.
you could tell how passionate he was about his work, how knowledgeable. if you had any questions or wanted to know more about a topic, he took the time to explain it to you properly.
he was quite patient, something you were thankful for since you knew he could sometimes grow frustrated.
when it's all said and done, he quizzes you. he sits atop the exam table, his expression apathetic.
"i'm a patient suffering from shortness of breath, chest pain and dizziness." he flatly says, watching your every move. "what comes to mind? what do you check first?"
you bite at your lip, your head scrambling to come up with any ideas of what your 'patient' could be suffering from. "arrhythmia?" you answer, uncertain. he gives you a pressing look, urging you to continue. "and i... check your heartbeat?"
"good." with a nod of his head, he gestures towards the stethoscope. "go ahead, then. check it and let's see if you get the reading right."
pushing past your initial hesitance, you grab the stethoscope and put it on, gently holding the bell in your hand. placing it on his clothed chest, your expression turns frustrated as you struggle to hear a beat.
he rolls his eyes and calls your name lightly. "you can't place it over fabric. it needs to go directly on the skin."
oh yeah, you needed to place it directly on his chest.
you click your tongue, embarrassed by your slight error. "yeah, yeah, i got it."
with that, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt.
however, instead of holding up his shirt and and placing the stethoscope directly over his heart, your hand slides upward from his abdomen and all the way to his chest.
your fingers inadvertently graze along his skin, tracing a warm path from his navel to his heart.
you're too focused on your task to notice his widening eyes and how his breath hitches.
a content smile forms on your face when you catch the sound of his heartbeat.
ba-dum! ba-dum!
you look up at him, slightly concerned. “i think there's something weird-"
"you're hearing things." he's quick to say, placing a hand over yours and promptly removing it from his person. standing from the exam table, he adjusts his shirt and takes a step back to put some much needed distance between the two of you. "good job today, you did well."
he turns in the opposite direction, not wanting to let his cracked composure show. steeling himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes off any residual feelings of unease.
it was just a fluke. he's quick to think, wanting to be rational.
in the end, he looks over his shoulder and gives you a nod before heading to his study.
Tumblr media
11K notes · View notes
sleepyhoon · 7 days ago
Text
TWO MOONS - L.HS
Tumblr media
pairing. plug!heeseung x reader
genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!
word count. 4k+
warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]
synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.
a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe
Tumblr media
Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed. 
Fucking ridiculous.
It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.
“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”
Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”
“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.
“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.
You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”
“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”
The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.
He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies. 
It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.
His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.
“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”
“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”
“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.
“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”
“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.
“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.
“I am not her bitch.”
He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.
Heeseung * 2:47 AM
[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo
YN * 9:06 AM
omggggg  ur the fucking best how much??
You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.
Heeseung * 10:31 AM
1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more 
YN * 10:40 AM
no cash? :(
Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.
YN * 10:41 AM 
[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(
It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.
Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.
Heeseung * 10:50 AM
Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol
YN * 10:59 AM
omg :o are u sure?  don’t want u to lose out on money >.<
Heeseung * 11:11 AM
It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky
YN * 11:12 AM
thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o
There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.
His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.
Heeseung * 11:13 AM
Must be :)
After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.
There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.
Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.
He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.
Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.
However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.
“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.
“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”
Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”
Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.
Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.
He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.
You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”
Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.
“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.
You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”
“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”
Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.
He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”
You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”
“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”
You grimace, shaking your head in response.
Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”
“I don’t know, Hee…”
“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”
It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”
Heeseung nods, “I swear.”
You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer. 
A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.
You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.
You shake your head, “I’m not.”
“You are, I feel you shaking.”
“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”
Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.
Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.
“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.
You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.
Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.” 
Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.
Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”
You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”
“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”
You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”
“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”
“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”
Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.
“Mind if I try something?”
You perk up, “Try what?”
“I do all the work but you still get high.”
You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”
He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”
Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”
Here goes nothing.
He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.
You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.
“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.
Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.
“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”
He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”
Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.
As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.
On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.
You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.
Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.
You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.
You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”
He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.
You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.
Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth. 
You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”
You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.
It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.
His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.
He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”
You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”
“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”
His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.
“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.
Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.
Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.
He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”
“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.
Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.
“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”
“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”
“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door. 
“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”
You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”
You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”
“I do! Just let me, please.”
“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”
“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”
He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”
“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”
A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”
Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.
He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.
“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”
“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.
This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”
Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.
Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.
He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.
“H-Heeseung…hold on…”
He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.
He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.
You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”
He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”
“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”
His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”
You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”
Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.
“No.”
He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”
“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
1K notes · View notes
omgeto · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
☆ R U GONNA STAY THE NIGHT? — fratboy!GETO SUGURU
summary:geto suguru, 'top dog' on campus, is used to ploughing through all the ditzy little freshmen without any concern for their feelings. but now his biggest challenge, is you, and it's not getting you in his bed, its getting you to stay in it.
wc: 4k (look guys I did it)
cw: afab!reader, all types of fucking, masturbation, you ride his dick, you ride his face, he gives you like two spanks, he's kinda whiny but then at the same time not. you both think you're the boss of this situationship and you are both wrong. MDNI slight angst if you squint, or maybe angst angst idk
an: first fic in 10 days, is this what you call a comeback? idk but I hope you enjoy whatever this is I TRIED OKAY I TRIED! Also thanks bae @kazushawty for betaing some and bullying me in our chats
Tumblr media
sleeping with a frat bro wasn’t on your to do list during your freshman year, but there is something about geto suguru that you just can’t shake. you thought that you were one of many, after hearing all the rumours about him that spread throughout campus and that didn’t phase you as long as he could get you off, you didn’t care what else he did. but little did you know he is all about you and he is finally gonna let that be known tonight.
"excuse me," a whisper brushes against your ear, a deep, low hum that sends shivers down your spine. hands press lightly on your waist, shifting you ever so slightly. you glance over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowing when you realise there is more than enough room for the person to pass. it's geto suguru, and you shoot him a withering glare.
"what's the problem?" he asks, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he observes the hard look you're giving him. but instead of answering, you simply turn away, refusing to acknowledge his presence.
geto, undeterred by your cold response, takes a step closer. his presence is magnetic, and you can feel the heat of his body inches from yours. the music pulses around you, the crowd dancing and laughing, but all you can focus on is him.
“y’know me” he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, and his voice drops to a seductive murmur. "can’t resist the opportunity to get a little closer to you."
“oh fuck off geto,” you hiss, but your words had no real bite, you move your elbow to try and deter him but his stance remains fixed behind you.
“you’re a hard woman to please,” he sighs, with mock sadness, “but as frat president i can’t have one of my party guest having a bad time at one of my parties can i?”
“maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough,” you retort quickly, finally turning around to face him head on, a teasing smirk appearing on your face, “what would you know about pleasing me?”
“i think we both know what i know about pleasing you,” he offers his hand out, “c’mon let me show you a good time.” you hesitate, seeing the spark in his eyes and he puts his hand out further, urging you to take it. you close your eyes swiftly, taking a deep breath before letting him drag you into the crowd of people.
geto hand remains a reassuring hold as he drags you through the sea of intoxicated dancers. he pulls you into him, his dick already bricked up as brings it to your ass, your turn your head and raise your eyebrow, and he flashes a smile in return his hands sliding down to hold your hips as he starts to gyrate against you. you quickly match his pace, throwing back your ass, your hips swaying in time with geto and the music.
he places his hand at the small of your back, forcing you to bend slightly, as he widens his stance and forces his body into your further. your mouth parts, at the contact, and you smile at the feeling — geto suguru actually has rhythm. he’s quick to pull you up, peppering light kisses against your face as he grinds into you.
his arm hooks around your neck in a gentle but firm hold, as he bends down to your ear, his lips whispering words only meant for you, as he continues to rub his clothed dick in the crook of your ass. geto manoeuvres his hands up and down your body, his fingers teasingly toying with your tits, as he explores all you, right on the dance floor.
you could feel the heat between your legs grow, so you pull away from geto turning around to face him, his hands coming down to hold you close to him as if he was afraid you'd run away. “not bad huh?” he asks, knowing that you feel the exact same as he does, you both didn’t even notice all the eyes on you, as the crowd of partygoers just witnessed you almost fuck on the dance floor.
before you could even respond, you could feel the wind being knocked out of you as a broad chest collides right into you. geto keeps you upright, so you don’t fall on your ass and places you behind him as he steps to the person responsible for almost knocking you over. 
as the fog of the moment clears, you see the cause of the commotion—gojo satoru, geto's best friend, is in a blissful state of drunkenness, a wide grin plastered across his face.
"heeeeyy, suguru," gojo greets loudly, his bleary eyes darting between the two of you. "is this you, yeah?" his words slur slightly, but it's clear he's trying to figure out the situation. geto doesn't respond verbally, but the subtle smirk on his face and the bashful look on yours speak volumes. "you know what we could do to make this night greater," gojo announces with an exaggerated flourish.
geto sighs, on a usual day he’s all up for entertaining his friend but tonight all he wants to do is entertain you. “what is it satoru?”
“shots!” he cheers, looking around the room to be completely ignored, in too much of a drunken state to even notice, “c’mon sugu, you love shots, you can even bring this pretty little thing you’ve got with you.” he finishes, gojo’s eyes linger on you a little too long as he sizes you up, his bottom lip pulling into his teeth and all you could do is raise your eyebrows up at him, puzzled.
“bro,” geto commands, and gojo’s eyes snap to his friends as he raises his hand in mock surrender, “just take us to the fucking shots.” the subtle tension between the two guys didn't go unnoticed by you, but you brush it off, chalking it up to frat boys being frat boys. 
it was soon forgotten anyways, with you sprawled across a table of the frat house, drunken partygoers jeering at you as your shirt is half pulled up just stopping at your breast and gojo is cheering as he’s sprinkles salt on you and lines your stomach with shots.
“care to do the honours,” gojo taunts geto as he finishes pouring the final shot. geto sends a glare his way ignoring him as he makes his way over to you, giving you a long stripe of his tongue down your stomach, before quickly downing all the shots on your stomach, his eyes stuck on you. gojo offers him a lime, which he snatches straight out of his hands. gojo tuts, shaking his head, “someones touchy.” and just to add fuel to the fire, gojo has his own lick at your stomach, more slower and sensual then geto’s was, and he pours himself a shot, giving you a wink as he drinks it.
“what the fuck man?” geto interrogates, stepping to his friend, slightly wobbling as the shots he just backed in swift succession, hit him quickly.
“what’s wrong suguru?” gojo teases with a playful grin, he wasn’t dumb he knew who you were before he even saw you, geto talks about you all the time. so when gojo finally saw you with him, with geto still downplaying how he hard he actually fucks with you, he couldn’t help but fuck with his friend a bit, “you jealous?”
“don’t even start with me ‘toru,” geto warns, and you begin to sit up with an eye roll, you couldn’t deny you were a bit tipsy, but no amount of alcohol could make you bear to see this lame exchange of fray boy bravado. 
“oh whats your issue man,” gojo brushes him off, going to pour himself another drink, but geto is hot on his tails. “bro we literally always share the hot freshmen, what makes her any different.”
“because she just is,” geto snaps, in an attempt of a hush tone but you hear him loud and clear.
“i think i’m going to go,” you say out loud, and geto hears you pausing, slightly panicked. forgetting all about gojo his focus back onto you.
“no no, you don’t have to leave, we were having a good time right?” he stammers, rushing to persuade you stay. you couldn’t deny that you were having a good time, geto suguru is actually fun to be around, and the way he was staring at you, begging for you just stay with him, hits you right in your core. he pulls you close to him as he murmurs to you, “i know you felt what i felt when we were dancing, just give me a chance and like i said earlier i could really show you a good time. if you let me.”
geto just wanted to get you alone, he could see that the heavy noise of the club was clearly not your vibe, but he couldn’t let you leave just yet. he offers out his hand just like he did at the start of the party, but this time you didn’t hesitate to take it. letting him cart you off upstairs as you both ignore that wolf whistles coming from gojo, “you better get some suguru, go and get some for the both of us!”
when you get up into geto’s room, you try to disregard the slew of people strung out in different rooms across the house. but geto was confident, he had no reason not to be with you in his arms, wanting him just as badly as he wants you.
“c’mere,” he beckons you, as he sits down, patting down his thigh. you happily skip over to him, perching yourself right on his thigh, your arms hooking around his neck, your hands clasping together, locking him in. you face inches closer to his, your lips part ready to taste him but he halts you, smirking as he says “you're cute, y’know that right?”
“how so?” you ask, entertaining him with an eye roll.
“you always sit in class with me, trying to act all bothered by my presence,” he comments, “but turns out all it takes is for you to come to one of my parties, and for you to dance with me, to get you cumming in my lap… literally.”
“are we gonna fuck?” you say bluntly, catching him off guard, “or are you gonna continue to talk nonsense.” even though he wasn’t talking nonsense, he was right, tonight really did change your perspective on geto. but you weren’t dumb he was the president of the frat, and his best friend gojo’s comments earlier only further cemented the type of people frat guys are.
you press your lips against his before he has a chance to respond, your tongue darting in his mouth as he moulds into you. one of his hands works its way down your body whilst the other stays caressing your face. you groan against him, driving yourself against his thigh, your clothed cunt, already dripping just from the friction alone. 
“you getting off on my thigh yeah?” he teases between kisses, and you nod, desperately pushing yourself into him. he hikes you up further, his lips still moving in tandem with yours, and he spreads you into lap so you could properly straddle him. you both had quick movements, both of you are needy and wanting of the other. geto’s hands slide down your back and keep your ass in a firm hold as you begin to rock against him.
geto pulls away from you, his lips already plump from the way you’ve been gnawing at them. you pout at the removal but he laughs, “patience, princess.” but you ignore him your hands darting into his pants, ready to free his dick and land it, but he places his hand on your wrist, his eyebrows raising in warning, “what did i just say?”
“to take out your dick and sit on it right?” you shrug coyly, chuckling at your joke, and he smiles, but the warning in his eyes doesn’t leave.
“strip,” he commands, the single word having you folding like a chair, as you fling off your clothes leaving you in your underwear. he pulls you by the waistband of you panties, ripping them off you in one swift motion, biting his lip as he’s met with your wet pussy. “she’s so pretty,” he comments, flicking at your clit and as he slides his finger down your slit, just about to enter he pauses, putting his finger in his mouth instead of in you. he swirls it around his tongue, “sweet.”
“suguru,” you whine, at his teasing, “this isn’t funny.”
“play with yourself,” he says, disregarding whatever you were saying.
“what happened to you giving me a good time,” you argue.
“c’mon show me how bad you want it,” he persuades with a grin, leaning back, waiting for you to put on a show for him, “i’ll make it worth your while.”
despite everything, you could just never tell geto, no. it’s the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, how he carries himself. with how he is just leaning back in his bed, his eyes low in anticipation as he waits for you to pleasure yourself for him, exciting you to do whatever he wants.
your hand works its way down to your pussy, your thumb landing on your clit rubbing against it as your finger part your sobbing cunt, letting geto see how wet you really are for him. “f-fuck,” you moan out, as you push your fingers inside of you, your eyes clenching shut at the contact.
“oi,” geto calls out to you, your eyes opening and landing on him, “keep your eyes on me. okay?” and you nod, as you quicken your pace, watching as geto palms his dick at your performance.
“this is boring,” you complain as you continue to rub at your pussy, trying your best to reach your climax on your own, “need your fingers, need your di—”
“keep going,” he orders, smirking, he could tell by the way your stance weakens and your legs tremble, that you were close. you were predictable and even though you were hungry for his dick, he knew you’d be able to cum with just your fingers and his eyes on you. call him cocky, but the influence he had over you was unmatched.
you roll your eyes at him, but you listen, continuing to finger yourself as he told you. your mouth parts, and you exhale feeling yourself about to cum, you push your digits in you harder, and your eyes stay fixated on geto and he shrugs his shoulders letting you do as you please—for once. you moan loudly as you cum all over your fingers, releasing hard as you spill out all down your thighs.
“see wasn’t so hard was it?” he taunts, pulling out his dick that has been hard from the moment he saw you at the party. he gives it a few strokes, pre cum oozing from the tip and you hungrily pounce on him, your pussy still dripping with your cum as you hover over his dick. you pause before sliding down on him, hissing at the feeling of you stretching you wide. “fuck man,” he groans out as he feels you clench over him, “your shit’s so tight.”
you bounce up and down on him, as he thrusts up into you, his hips hitting yours in a hard flurry of repeated connections. you press your hands flat on his chest, as his hands stay cupping your ass, keeping you upright as he drills into you.
his pace is unmatched, as you try and keep up, grinding your pussy down on him, desperate to have him stuff you up even more. “sugu ‘ts too much, f-fuck you’re relentless.”
“c-cant help it,” he stammers, still maintaining his merciless strokes, his dick twitching inside of you, “your pussy is just too good, or should i say my pussy,” he finishes with a wink. 
“y-your pussy?” you retort, laughing at his seriousness.
“yeah it’s mine right?” he interrogates, sending a slap to your ass to prompt further confirmation, “tell me it’s mine.” you don’t respond, a teasing smile spreading across your face, as you stare down at him, still riding his dick. but geto pauses, halting your movements and he slightly eases you up off of his dick, “what was that?” he prompts.
“it’s yours,” you give in quickly, not even bothering to entertain it any further with how needy you are to cum, “of course it's yours.” satisfied, geto charges his dick back into you with no warning, and you immediately go back to pushing your ass down on him, spreading your legs wider to straddle him more, taking him in deeper.
“t-that’s all i needed to hear,” he stutters, feeling himself about to cum, so he gives you a few sloppy thrusts before easing you off of him, cumming all over your stomach. you're quick to follow, your cum spraying his sheets, as you slump over him, dripping down on his body. “i made sure to not cum in you this time, i know how angsty you get over that shi.”
“oh how gentlemanly of you,” you deadpan, “all gives love a stomach covered in salt and semen.”
“well what would you prefer? your pussy filled with my cum,” he taunts, smirking as you still, “i know i would.” you didn’t answer pulling your sticky body away from his, as you come down off of your high.
“are you gonna stay the night?” geto asks with a grin it was like clockwork, everytime you finish fucking he’d always ask the same question, never getting bored when you mutter the same tired words.
“you know i don’t sleep in frat houses suguru.”
he shrugs casually, propping himself up on his elbows and admiring your naked figure. "you fuck in them though," he remarks, as if that justified everything, "so what's the difference?"
rolling your eyes, as you begin to do the laborious task of trying to locate your underwear—geto always had the habit of throwing them across the room. "the difference is," you pause, looking over your shoulder at him, "I can wake up tomorrow in my own bed, feeling just a little less gross for even fucking you in the first place."
a mock expression of hurt crosses his face as he crawls up behind you on the bed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "oh, how you wound me, princess," he coos, his breath sending shivers down your spine, "just stay."
“no, i shouldn’t” you argue, letting out an exhale as his lips attach to your collarbone, sucking against your skin, pulling and nipping at it with his teeth. 
you try to distract yourself by putting on your bra but geto is quick to fling it off you, his mouth trailing down to your tits peppering kisses all over your nipples, murmuring “stay” between each kiss. 
he takes your boob into his mouth, sucking on its flesh as his other hand toys with the other, massaging your nipples with just enough roughness to have you writhing in his palms. your back arches involuntarily, your tits pushing further into his touch, aching to feel him further, “see,” he smirks as he toys with you, “you do wanna stay.”
“i won’t, if you keep talking” you warn, gritting your teeth as he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “now c’mere, convince me on why i should stay,” you lift his head off your tits with your fingers, eyeing him down as he stares back at you with pure lust in his eyes. you press a kiss to his lips before steering his head down towards your pussy.
“since when do you run things?” he doesn’t budge, his eyebrows slightly raise as he chuckles.
“you’re the one that wants me to stay, no?” you counter, your eyes locked with his.
“well what i want is for you to come sit on my face and my head can stay sandwiched between your thighs, how about that?” his grin widens as your mouth parts, speechless. he tugs you by the arm close to the head of the bed, you climb up his body your pussy still wet from he fucked you before, leaking out your juices all over his chest. “so hop on girl, a man’s gotta eat,” he mutters impatiently, smacking your ass to urge you onto his lips.
he takes you in hungrily, his mouth enclosing on your pussy with such greed that he is practically drowning in your scent. he laps at your cunt, his tongue giving such long, deep strokes which have your hands pressing against the walls, grinding down on his face. 
geto grips and claws at your ass, he grins, his nose burying into your pussy as your thighs clench tighter around his head. “s-sshit suguru,” your hands slap against the wall as you squeal out, trying to grasp at something to keep you afloat, as the way geto is working your pussy and how his fingers dig into your ass cheeks, has you buckling over about to topple off of him. 
he hums against your pussy, the vibrations jolting right through you, having you moan even louder. his tongue darts against your clit, swirling at it vigorously, nipping at it lightly with his teeth. 
“sugu i—” you pant, trying to ease off of him, the pleasure getting too much for you, but his hands stroke both your thighs keeping them in place. “bout to cum sugu.”
you could hear him mumble something, you didn’t care what, but the two taps he gave to your thigh let you know you could release all over him. you cry out as you cum, feeling yourself spill out all over his face. geto continues to eat you up, drinking in everything he can take, his chin getting covered by what he couldn’t swallow.
 “you are way too good at that.” you gasp as you slowly come up off his face, your breathing still laboured.
“only the best for you princess,” he jests with his eyes half open, a blissful smile on his lips as his tongue swipes at the remains of you left on his face.
“yeah me and all the other freshmen you fuck,” you mutter, to yourself but he heard you loud and clear.
“what was that?” he urges, wanting you to repeat your claims. before you started fucking geto, you knew he was and what he was about and technically you didn’t care, you only wanted him for his mouth game—which proved to be very useful. but when he tries to sweet talk you you couldn’t help but be reminded of what kind of guy he is.
“i think you heard me,” you shrug, “i’m saying it to insult you or anything, i'm just telling the truth. you like to fuck everbody and everything.”
“wait? is this why you won’t stay the night?” he says, sitting up, staring you down. 
“you must be only a pretty face, if you thought otherwise,” you laugh at his shock.
“no it’s just i think its crazy that you just won’t stay,” he complains, glaring at you as you put back on your clothes, “we could get to know each other properly.”
“like we agreed when we first started messing around,” you cringe, pitying the pouty look on his face. “let’s just… keep this casual”
“but that was ages ago,” he tries to reason, “some may say you’re just using me for sex.”
“suguru we use each other for sex,” you respond quickly, you step towards him pressing a peck on his pouty lips, with a smirk on your face as you see his lips chasing yours as you pull away, “well i'm gonna go now, i’m sure i’ll see you at one of your many lame parties you and your people always throw. it’s been fun as always” geto raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement, blowing out a hard breath, as he watches you strut out of his bedroom.
“she’ll stay the night eventually.” he murmurs to himself, maybe it’s wishful thinking, but a guy can dream.
Tumblr media
AN: she’s only gone and done it. but yeah how was it guys 🥺? There’s only two lines in this whole fic that I actually thought “damn I cooked here” if you guess the lines you win a reward. ALSO IDK WHY I WAS DROPPING HINTS AT SOME GOJO ON SOME MR STEAL UR GIRL TYPE SHIT but I just went with it. But geto is sooo sweet HE JUST WANTS U TO STAY and you don’t even fuckinnn stay 😭😭 looool aren’t u mean. Technically I wrote the fic backwards it was meant to start with the “r u gonna stay the night” AND then gojo and geto would have a a conversation about you AND the it would end w the party and u tucking but I wanted to keep if one continuous flow and ANYWAYS this an is becoming a diary entry so LMK UR THOUGHTS PLEASE CAUSE THIS HAD ME STRETCHED
8K notes · View notes
heehoonies · 3 months ago
Text
under the table
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
description: you and sim jaeyun have been academic rivals for as long as you can remember, competing intensely to beat the other in every class you've ever shared. for years, you've hidden your feelings for him, burying them deep down where jake can't find them, and you're hellbent on ensuring he never discovers your secret.
word count: 22k
contents: academic rivals to academic rivals with benefits to lovers, lots of angst, slight crack at points, overuse of nicknames (angel, pretty, gorgeous, etc), jake is kinda mean in the beginning, heejayhoon are flirty frat boy menaces, reader works herself to exhaustion in one scene, jake is stupid with emotions, characters get drunk/drink a lot, lots of party scenes and wonyoung as your roommate/best friend bc she's the first idol i thought of
smut warnings below the cut
a/n: thank u to my lovely bff @seung-log for letting me bounce ideas off of you and for beta reading this fic and giving me encouragement the entire way! ilysm <3
now playing: under the table by banks
smut warnings: dom!jake, sub!reader, hard and soft dom jake, implications of sub!jake (my agenda y'all he had to be here somewhere), degradation (slut, whore, etc), praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), fingering, oral (m. and f. rec), handjob, titjob, multiple orgasms, squirting, hate fucking (kinda), cumming inside, cum swallowing, cum as lube (kinda), finger in ass (f. rec), orgasm delay, marking, biting, spit swallowing, dry humping, grinding, slight 'sir' kink, choking, slight size kink (big cock/tiny pussy), fucking with clothes on, overstimulation, crying, slight dacryphilia, clit pinching/slapping.
Tumblr media
your eyes drag over your paper hurriedly, looking for the red ink splotched at the bottom of the page, skin tingling as blood rushes to your head.
95.
you flip your paper over, eyes darting to your side where a pair of big brown eyes are already staring back at you. jake raises an eyebrow at you, showing you the big fat 100 plastered on the top of his test sheet.
your nose scrunches as you attempt to not give any reaction to the fact that jake has beat you. once again.
“ha! knew it,” jake smirks, basking in his triumph.
“whatever, sim. you know physics is not my strongest subject.” you try to brush his statement off, but his gloating begins to get under your skin. you poke your tongue on the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to smack him as he continues to sit there, simply staring. “what is it?”
jake shrugs, “nothing much, y/l/n, just the usual. enjoying the fact that i beat you for yet another week in a row.”
he’s absolutely over exaggerating, knowing you just topped his score in english literature yesterday. “whatever,” you repeat, not wanting to him to sense your sulkiness. “stop staring.” you wave a hand in front of his face to get him to look away, to which he relents after a moment.
jake would stare in shock and awe if he ever found out how this rivalry actually drives your anger. losing to him is always frustrating, of course, but nothing is more soul crushing than the butterflies bouncing around in your stomach every time jake looks at you and the way you fail to will them away every single time.
“wasn’t staring,” he disagrees, turning to face back towards the whiteboard, his leg beginning to bounce from the excess excitement.
“sure you weren’t,” you respond dryly, utterly too exhausted to deal with his bickering today. not with that way that stupid button up with rolled sleeves fits snugly on his biceps, round silver rimmed glasses sitting lazily on his nose, strands of hair falling delicately across his face. to top it all off, he’s wearing a ring on his pointer finger, tapping it lightly against the edge of the desk. the sound is bothersome, but not as bothersome as how utterly attracted you are to the mere image of the metal around his long finger. long fingers that are attached to large hands that lead to buff, veiny arms and broad shoulders, the whole sight nearly making you drool.
he must know how absolutely attractive he is right now. he must.
“hey jake, you going to the party at heeseung’s frat tonight?” jungwon calls from the seat behind him.
jake turns, nodding slightly, “jay and hoon are forcing me to go, i told them i already had plans but they wouldn’t listen,” you scoff, digging through your backpack for your laptop, knowing his plans were simply to study the entire weekend, plans that completely mirrored your own. he glances at you with an eyebrow raised in confusion before turning back to jungwon. “why?”
“the sorority girls are all coming,” jungwon cracks a smile, the smugness in his voice dripping with every word that tumbles out. he lowers his voice, leaning in as you still, trying to listen to jungwon’s hushed tone. “karina’s gonna be there, bro.”
you freeze, eyes glancing up as you pray you’ve heard wrong. yu karina of phi mu royalty? the most gorgeous girl on campus who also, unfortunately for your cynical brain who wants so desperately to hate the girl, happens to be the kindest person on earth? of course jake would be interested in her, just like half the student body is.
jake nods slightly, muttering a “thanks, jungwon,” before turning back towards the front. you busy yourself with logging into your laptop, willing your brain to think about anything other than jake and karina together.
god, this is going to be a long day.
Tumblr media
luckily enough, friday is the day where you only see jake once during your courses. you head home to your on campus apartment after the day ends, tired of your racing thoughts and hoping to recover in the confines of your warm blanket, cozied up with a good book and a cup of tea before doing some nightly revision.
you are not allowed such a reprieve from the day.
“y/nieeee!” wonyoung greets you at the door, a bright smile gracing her face. “we’re going out tonight!”
you drop your bag on the sofa before plopping down next to it, sinking deep into the cushions. “no, wony, we’re not going to heeseung’s party.”
her smile drops, pretty lips curling into a small frown, “why? and how did you even know there’s a party at heeseung’s tonight?”
“doesn’t matter. we’re absolutely not going.”
she huffs, stomping her foot lightly. “come onnnn y/n! don’t you ever get tired of working yourself to the bone week after week? i think you need a break, even if just for the night.”
you sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands, trying to fend off the impending headache that started on your walk from your classroom. you relent to her, a small sigh escaping your lips before you mutter, “jake’s going to be there.”
“and? don’t you want him to see your sexy ass in something skimpy?”
your cheeks burn at the insinuation of sim jake having his eyes on you in any context other than a negative one. “no, plus karina is going to be there. heard jungwon mentioning her specifically to him in physics today. so i’d rather not go and see something that’ll hurt my spirit more.” you pause for a moment, “he already beat my score on our physics quiz this morning, and i haven’t stopped thinking about him and her together all day. so can we please stay home?”
wonyoung sighs deeply, sitting down next to you. “who cares if they’re going to be there? you’re y/l/n y/n, you deserve to have a life outside of academics and obsessing over jake. and if he does get with her? then fuck him!”
you can feel your resolve breaking, knowing you can never truly say no to wonyoung with her pleading eyes and tiny pout.
“oh my god, fine.” you relent, sighing deeply when she jumps off of the couch with a little squeal. “oh i’m so excited! let’s go to your room, i know exactly what you’re going to wear.”
and that’s how you ended up standing outside heeseung’s frat house, your comfy tennis shoes contrasting the skin tight strappy black dress with a plunging neckline that wonyoung forced you to wear. “i’m not breaking my fucking ankle just so you can have more fun playing dress up, wony. it’s the dress and these shoes or i’m taking my ass there in sweatpants and no bra.”
“come on, let’s get a drink,” wonyoung grabs your hand and pushes her way through the crowd of bodies, “we’re probably gonna need it.”
“welcome ladies! wonyoung, nice to see you again.” you are both greeted by park jay mixing drinks when you step into the precipice of the kitchen. he does a double take when his eyes register you in front of him. “and y/n, wow! you look drop dead gorgeous. i’ve never seen you at one of these parties before.”
your cheeks burn lightly as you opt to ignore his comment, knowing jay’s reputation with the student body for being a man who… definitely gets around. wonyoung lets go of your hand, beginning to browse the drink options laid out on the kitchen island in front of her. “yeah, wonyoung made me.” you respond, coming to stand on the opposite side of jay as you eye the shaker in his hands. “you playing bartender?” he nods slightly. “what’s the strongest thing you can make me?”
jay chuckles in response as he pours what he was mixing in the tumbler. “here, try this,” he hands you the cup. you take a reluctant sip, the liquid going down with a strong burn. you shake your head lightly in response to the strength before downing the entire cup in a few gulps, needing the liquid confidence desperately.
“a woman after my own heart,” he stares for a moment before handing you another drink, this one pre-prepared. “try this one. don’t down it all at once though, i won’t be able to satisfy you if you keep that up.”
you nod, taking a small sip before a warm feeling begins to settle in your belly. “this one is tastier.”
“figured you’d like it, a sweet drink for a sweet girl.”
wonyoung cocks an eyebrow at him before shaking her head lightly at the way his gaze is completely on you, the ogling he’s giving your curves going right over your head but catching her attention instead. “me next, bartender.” he nods, turning back to face the counter. “your regular?” she nods in response, walking around him to slide up against you.
“you have a regular?” you giggle at her. wonyoung nods lightly, the small smile never leaving her lips, “jay’s been playing bartender for me since we were still in high school.”
jay makes wonyoung her drink and hands it over and the two of you exit the kitchen, opting to walk outside for some fresh air and maybe a free spot on the lawn to sit down at. there are small clumps of people scattered around the impeccably green lawn. people sip from cups and bottles, a few from cans. there are fairy lights strewn across the underside of the covered porch, and you wonder which frat member’s girlfriend convinced them to put them there. the moon illuminates the darker parts of the lawn, some of them coated in artificial light from various tiki torches strewn about aimlessly, stuck into the group roughly.
“wonyoung!” lee heeseung’s booming voice carries across the lawn from where heeseung and sunghoon are playing beer pong. “come join!”
you approach the table, “y/n, is that you?” you nod, smiling. “hi, heeseung.”
“is this your first frat party?” you nod again and he cracks a smile in response. “how are you enjoying it?”
“we just got here, so i haven’t seen much.” heeseung nods, scooting over on his side of the ping pong table.
“be my partner, wonyoung go stand by hoon.” you find nothing inside of you that wants to argue, knowing that you and heeseung get along, as much as two people who don’t know each other all that well can get along.
you glance up at heeseung as you stand next to him, “i’ve never played, heeseung.” his smile grows wider at your admission. “well, it’s our turn, so let me show you.”
heeseung moves you to stand in front of him, pressing you between the edge of the table and his wide t-shirt covered chest. “so grab the ball,” he places it in your hand before covering it with his own, much larger one. “aim, and toss!” heeseung guides you to toss the ball, it lands in one of the cups with a satisfying plop and you smile, glancing up at him where he’s smiling back down at you.
across the lawn, unbeknownst to you, an irritated sim jaeyun is ignoring his conversation with karina, watching the way heeseung is crowding your space and holding your hand. he’s not mad, no, why the hell would he be mad? he hates you. he’s got the yu karina in front of him giving him bedroom eyes, yet all he can focus on is the way heeseung presses himself against your back. jake feels the strange anger brewing inside his gut, completely checked out of his conversation with karina.
karina is here, ripe for the taking, absolutely willing and eager to flirt with jake, but all he can manage to do is stare at you, willing you with his mind to glance over at him, to see him standing here with her. he can’t believe you’re standing so close to his best friend, basically inviting him to fuck you in front of everyone here with your innocent stare.
wonyoung takes the cup and downs it, “next time let her throw for herself, hee.” sunghoon accuses, “no cheating in beer pong, man.”
“y/n’s never played!” heeseung defends, never moving from where he’s got you trapped, his body feeling so close and his towering size intimidating you a bit. “had to teach her, it’s the least i can do.”
before he can register how his body is reacting, jake’s leaving karina without so much as a second glance as his legs carry him over to the table. “move over hoon,” jake commands from the other side of the table. heeseung meets jake’s eye, having a silent conversation that not even sunghoon is privy to. heeseung gives sunghoon a look and sunghoon relents, allowing jake to take his place before wandering off to see jay in the kitchen and maybe find out if riki is passed out somewhere. wonyoung catches your gaze, her eyes as confused as yours are at the sudden intrusion. “gonna school you, y/n, just like i did in physics this morning.”
you roll your eyes while heeseung feels your body tense in his hold. “it’s okay, we got this. jake sucks at beer pong.” he says lowly, smiling to reassure you. you nod your head in response.
jake does, in fact, suck at beer pong, a fact you become well aware of within his first few throws. usually jake is decent at beer pong! but heeseung has watched jake down multiple drinks this evening, and when jake gets drunk, his beer pong skills significantly drop off. jake swears under his breath with every miss, hatred brewing behind his gaze every time he sees the way heeseung keeps you held in place, the way the pair of you celebrate every successful toss with a small high five, heeseung’s hand dwarfing yours in size.
“you lose, jakey boy,” heeseung announces as you sink the last ball with a bit of guidance from him. jake downs the last cup before slamming it back down on the table, the flimsy plastic being crushed beneath his hand a bit. heeseung gives you a squeeze of the shoulders and one last high five, “don’t be a sore loser, man.” heeseung moves, finally letting you escape as you walk to meet wonyoung at the other end of the table. heeseung grabs jake by the scruff of his neck, guiding him to another part of the backyard.
“god, that was so weird.” wonyoung shakes her head, “why was jake so mad? and heeseung is being weird too…”
the words swim in your own brain. was jake mad that you were there at all? you’ve never been to one of heeseung’s parties before, so that could be it, he could feel like you’re intruding on his space. you’d feel the same way if he ever raided one of you and wonyoung’s girls’ nights; though wonyoung would argue that that is a completely different situation if she ever heard your battling thoughts. was it because heeseung was so close to you? did he think you were cheating at beer pong like sunghoon did? that’s just too many questions for your already intoxicated brain to handle. your heart swelled at the fleeting thought that maybe he was angry that heeseung was close to you for an entirely different reason, completely unrelated to the game or his urge to beat you in every aspect of your shared existence.
“i think it’s time for us to go home,” you interject her ramblings, the entire situation beginning to overwhelm you, “i’m feeling tired.”
wonyoung eyes you with a raised eyebrow and a slightly squeaky whine as the two of you walk inside, “we just got here! come dance with me at least for a little bit.”
across the lawn, heeseung is scolding jake. “why are you being a fucking asshole to y/n, bro? she’s just trying to have a good time.”
“me? being an asshole? that’s rich coming from you, you we’re basically fucking her against the table, heeseung!”
heeseung rolls his eyes, knowing he was being very tame in comparison to some of the compromising situations jake has seen him in before. and it’s not like you or heeseung felt that way about each other. “i knew you’d be mad at that. jake, open your fucking eyes. people who actually hate each other don’t feel that way you do about her.”
jake’s drunk mind refuses to relent to heeseung’s words, always needing to be right and knowing heeseung is dead wrong, “shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“i do, actually, and i know better than you do.” heeseung shakes his head, sighing, “you’re too stubborn for your own good, sim.”
“fuck off man,” jake shakes himself out of heeseung’s grasp, heading inside for god only knows what reason. just to get away from heeseung and from his confusing thoughts of you, he supposes, in his far too drunk mind.
wonyoung tugs you into the living room that’s been taken over as a dance floor, but you tear away from her before she can drag you into the sea of people, trying to avoid dancing entirely. “i’m going to find the bathroom,” wonyoung’s attention is grabbed by a mutual friend of yours and she stays to chat with them, watching you stumble into a nearby hallway out of the corner of her eye, following your figure until you disappear around a corner, worry bubbling in her gut.
someone stumbles into you, nearly knocking you onto your ass. “hey, watch where you’re g-”
your sentence is cut off by someone pressing you against the wall in the dark corner of the hall, your eyes rising to meet a pair of pretty brown ones, jake’s pupils wide from how buzzed he is right now. you can feel yourself tensing in his hold, both scared and turned on from the mere proximity of his body. the heat of his body overwhelms you as he places one hand on your waist, the other against the wall at the side of your head, trapping you in place beneath his towering frame. “get off of me, sim,” you push against his chest, his body not moving an inch. fuck him and his broad shoulders and his thick, toned arms.
“are you trying to piss me off or something?” jake seethes, and you can see the anger in his eyes and the way he grips your hip tightly, threatening to leave a bruise. “trying to fuck all my friends? just opening your legs for every one of them like a whore?”
“fuck off, jake!” you argue, anger bubbling as you watch his eyes scan across your face, trying to ignore the bubbling arousal building in your gut, overwhelmed by his voice, eyes, presence, all of him being so terrifyingly close to you. “if i wanted to fuck all your friends, i already would’ve!”
jake’s hand next to your head is suddenly gripping your chin, forcing your head to look up further and stare up at his face. he sucks at the inside of his cheek, trying to reel his anger back in. “listen here, princess. none of my friends would ever fuck you, so stop trying before you embarrass yourself. you’re pathetic,” he moves his hand from your chin to wrap around your throat lazily. you can’t help the way your panties stick to you, wetness growing at the sight of him degrading you, his big hand wrapped around your delicate neck. you can feel your brain slipping already. “you’re worthless, do you understand me?”
you nod dumbly, swallowing a bit of spit to keep yourself from drooling.
“good girl,” is all his drunk brain can tell you, voice gravelly and lower than you’ve ever heard. his vocal tone makes the feeling in the pit of your stomach reignite. “remember your place, doll.” you nod mindlessly again before he lets go of your throat, his hand at your waist shoving you away from him. “get out of here before i have to teach you a lesson.”
Tumblr media
monday rolls around unceremoniously, and knowing you’ll have to see jake first thing this morning is making you consider skipping class entirely.
you shake your head, knowing that nobody, especially not a man, is worth jeopardizing your grades over. no matter how annoyingly attractive he is.
you plop down in your seat, ready for the lecture. jake saunters in, his usual smile plastered on his face before it drops at the mere sight of you. your heart sinks, knowing that even your academic rivalry has never produced that sort of reaction from him.
“so, you and heeseung, huh?”
jake sits down next to you, eyeing you inquisitively. “what? absolutely not!” you hiss, “why the hell would you think that, sim?”
“beer pong,” he mentions, in a tone that makes you feel like you’re stupid. “i don’t like heeseung and i know he doesn’t like me. be serious now, jake.” you scold him, desperately hoping he’ll drop this.
“didn’t seem like it to me,” is all he says before tugging his laptop out of his bag and watching as the professor walks in the classroom.
“whatever, sim,” you brush him off, and the rest of your sentence gets caught on your tongue. “not like i care what you think,” you wish you could say, despite knowing just how much of a lie it is.
“good morning everyone, i finally have your test from last week fully graded,” your history teacher greets everyone and begins winding up and down the aisles, handing back papers with various numbers scribbled on top of each.
she places your paper gently on your desk, a huge smile greeting your face once you see the large 100 sitting on top in deep red ink.
“don’t start gloating now, princess. i got the same. you're not special,” jake’s words kill your remaining semblance of a good mood, feeling like he’s being meaner than he usually is.
“jake it’s 8 am, stop being such an asshole so early in the morning.” you fight, shoving the paper in your bag unceremoniously, missing the small frown that flits across his features. his thoughts flick back to heeseung scolding him at the party, making the frown grow on his face. you nose scrunches at his actions not turning you on like they normally did, instead just making you angry at him.
he shouldn’t feel bad, he really shouldn’t, and he's tricked his brain into thinking he truly doesn't care. your relationship has always been like this. something about seeing you this weekend made jake extra angry, and you’re the one he needs to take it out on. and if he kills your mood to match his already bad one? then all the better for his ego, annoying you being one of his favorite past times.
he continues his nasty quips throughout the rest of class, ones you try your hardest to ignore but somehow they slip under your armor and make hits at your fragile heart every single time.
after spending your down time studying in the library, you reach your next course and sit next to jake in math, leg bouncing roughly at the anxiety brewing at the thought of losing to jake again.
“oh thank god,” you sigh in relief, a 99 with a large circle sitting at the top of your surprise quiz from last week. jake feels his face twitch as he glances over to find your test sporting a higher score. he never loses to you in math, and he can feel his anger boiling.
“lucky break, y/n,” he bites, not missing the way your eyes turn downcast silently instead of fighting him with a quick, competitive response. jake doesn’t know why the sight of you ignoring him and not even arguing back makes his heart twinge.
Tumblr media
class after class for the rest of the week, you keep topping jake’s score, but you can’t bring it in yourself to care. you feel like his combative words are filled with real venom now, versus the usual merely competitive undertones that they carry. sure, you enjoy when he’s mean sometimes, but it feels like he’s somehow crossed an imaginary line between sexy and hateful. and your brain can only take so much negative rhetoric before you’re closing in on yourself, blurring the edges of your consciousness to prevent any more hurt from being cast upon your body and mind. you barely stumble your way through the week, struggling to even drag yourself to class every day, knowing you’ll be met with his usually soft brown eyes staring daggers into your side profile.
you’re so worn down from the emotional toll this week has taken on you that you don’t even care that wonyoung shoves you into another tiny dress and drags you to another party hosted by heeseung. you choose to keep your inner turmoil to yourself, and wonyoung relents, allowing you to have your secrets for now despite being able to sense that something is absolutely wrong.
“jay, give y/n what you gave her last weekend, she needs it.”
“welcome back, pretty girl,” jay greets you, “bad week?” you nod numbly, meeting his gaze with obviously tired eyes. “let jay help you.” he gives you a soft smile, beginning to whip up exactly what he gave you last weekend.
“thank you, jay,” jay notices the smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but he doesn’t take it personally. “anytime, pretty.”
wonyoung grabs the nearest bottle of whatever beer they’ve stocked up on for this so called rager and follows you as you wander aimlessly. she grips your elbow, leading you to an open seat on the sofa in the living room. the party is less packed than last weekend, with only a few people mingling around the house, the living room no longer being taken over by an impromptu dance floor.
“hi y/n, hey wonyoung,” jungwon greets the pair of you, dropping down into the cushion next to wonyoung. “what’s up? enjoying the party?”
you nod simply, nursing your cup gently as your eyes can’t focus on any one thing in the room, vision slightly fuzzy and never once regaining clarity as you let all thoughts leave your head.
“you with us, y/n?” wonyoung waves a hand in front of your face. unbeknownst to you, ten minutes had already passed and both wony and jungwon had watched you as you barely even moved, aside from the cup occasionally being pressed to your lips. “yeah, sorry.” you mumble out. wonyoung gives your shoulder a small squeeze before rising to her feet. “we’ll be right back, jungwon and i need a refill, okay?” you nod as her figure disappears into the house.
a large shadow casts above you, drawing your attention up to meet big brown eyes. “why are you here? here to gloat some more?”
a small sigh leaves your lips as you tear your gaze from him before downing your drink at once, eyes fluttering shut. you place the cup on the coffee table in front of you before looking back up at him, “i don’t have the energy to fight with you right now, jake. please just leave me alone.”
jake sits down next to you, hand resting on your knee as he whispers lowly for only you to hear, “so you’re trying to act like you didn’t just kick my ass all week? you’re not gonna say anything about that?”
you nod a little, unable to meet his gaze, “jake, i’m so tired, please. i don’t want to fight right now.”
seeing the vision of you, a usually fiery, independent, self assured woman, surrendering to his words so easily causes a twitch in jake’s pants, his jeans beginning to feel a little too snug all of a sudden. “is that so?” he teases, his anger from the week still present in the undertones of his speech. “so you don’t even have the energy to be a good rival and taunt me back?”
you shake your head, “jake, please,” you whine, and its music to his ears. he squeezes your knee lightly, invading your space some more. “please what, angel?”
your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, mouth going dry at the three little words he’s just whispered to you. you stare at him with doe eyes and a shut mouth. “what is it, you can tell me.” he tries to coax the admission out of you.
“just so tired…” you relent, limbs feeling heavy.
jake stands and pulls you to your feet, ignoring how heavy his cock feels behind his denim as he leads you upstairs, “come on, let’s go find somewhere you can lie down.” the sudden kindness he’s showing you would strike you as strange if you were in your right mind, but the fogginess taking over your brain hides how absolutely weird this would be on a normal day between you and jake.
jake tugs the door of heeseung’s room open, guiding you inside before shutting the door and locking it. “lie down.” his voice is gentle, coaxing you into submission and a sense of calm, feeling safer knowing you’re away from the crowd and are able to breathe a little better without a thin sheen of smoke filling your lungs and obscuring your vision.
you obey, crawling under the covers that he’s pulled back for you before he tucks you under the plush material. “you shouldn’t be here while you’re feeling like this,” jake scolds you. your eyes shut gently, already falling asleep with a heavy heart and heavier limbs. jake watches you with a protective gaze as you drift off into dreamland, a sigh leaving his lips knowing you might finally have time to just exist, versus your usual act of constantly pushing yourself to the limit and further.
“you can’t just let people crash in my room, jake!”
“it’s y/n, hee.” jake glances up at the taller man for a moment, “she… something was wrong, but i didn’t want to send her home by herself. wonyoung certainly wasn’t going to go with her.” he scoffs at your roommate’s inability to grasp how strange you were acting. heeseung’s eyebrows shoot up at this admission, nodding slightly. “is she okay now?” he questions.
“she’s still sleeping,” heeseung had caught jake sneaking out of his room trying to get you a glass of water for when you wake up, planning to run up and continue watching you as you slept. not in a creepy way, just in a i don’t want anybody to come in this room trying to fuck on heeseung’s bed while y/n is sleeping there kind of way, as well as a i need to make sure no one tries to take advantage of her kind of way. why he wanted to do all of this, why he was treating you this way at all was still a mystery to him. “didn’t want anyone coming in and waking her up or messing with her while she’s sleeping.”
heeseung scoffs a bit at his answer, “you still don’t get it, do you?”
jake watches him with a blank stare, “get what?” he shakes his head in response, muttering a quiet “nothing,” before peeking inside his room to check on you.
“she’s fine, heeseung.” jake argues, quietly yanking the door shut. “let her sleep.”
heeseung shakes his head, “just let her uber home with wonyoung,” he suggests, testing the waters further to prove his theory is rocksolid.
jake gives him a glare that could kill, “did you not fucking listen to a word i just said?”
bingo.
“i’m kidding, chill.”
jake lets the comment go as well as he can, “if you’re done saying stupid shit, can you go grab me some water for when she wakes up?” heeseung scoffs at his words, but returns shortly with a bottle of water, to which jake gives him a small thank you in return.
“just… try not to be an asshole when she wakes up, okay?”
Tumblr media
you don’t know how you got home that night. wonyoung told you it was jungwon ordering the three of you an uber, opting to leave with you since he lives in your building with sunoo and riki as his roommates. the rest of the weekend passes unceremoniously, your color slowly coming back after an absolutely off week. as you slouch down into the chair next to his on monday morning, you can only hope jake doesn’t fuck up your good mood as fast as he did last week.
“had a fun weekend?” you can’t decipher the tone of his voice.
“it was fine, i guess.” you shrug in response. “i don’t remember most of it.” you admit, not even caring how absolutely embarrassing that sounds, especially coming from someone of your academic caliber and positive reputation.
jake’s face seems to drop at your admission, quickly shaking off the expression, “well, are you ready for another week of me kicking your ass?”
“we’ll see about that, sim.” you smirk lightly, feeling your spark in this rivalry returning a bit, along with your deeply imbedded feelings for the man beside you. jake seems to have let go of the intense hatred he was holding the previous week, a friendly feeling returning to your long standing rivalry. “don’t think i’m gonna go easy on you, now.”
jake smiles secretly, happy to see the pep back in your step, so to speak. he hated seeing you the way you were at the party, your eyes looking lifeless and staring into the void aimlessly before he laid you down for a well deserved nap.
“hmm, what’d you get?” you peer down at the paper your professor has just laid in front of you. “97. you?”
“98.”
jake groans loudly, “god, you can’t just let me win, can you?” a smile graces your lips, “nope, you’ll have to fight me for it, sim.”
“alright, you two,” jay teases the two of you and you turn to face him. “y/n, you’ll never guess what today is.” he smiles brightly.
“i’m not sure, what is it, jay?”
“it’s my birthday, and i’m throwing a party at the frat tonight.” you smile at his admission, “will i see you there?”
jake shakes his head, teasing, “no, she’s probably gotta stud-”
“sure,” you interrupt jake, shooting him a glare before looking back at jay, “i’ll be there, jay.” you offer him a small smile, one which he mirrors while jake looks between the two of you with a scowl.
oh, you’re gonna get it.
Tumblr media
you arrive at jay’s party, opting for a more casual pleated skirt and t-shirt since jay told you it was casual wear and he wanted a chill vibe, just some close friends. you’re assuming he invited you because of wonyoung, who had to opt out of tonight’s festivities since the poor girl caught a nasty case of the flu over the weekend. you heated up some canned soup for her and made tea before leaving for the night, telling her to text you immediately if she starts to feel worse.
“hi, gorgeous,” heeseung smiles at you, greeting you warmly and placing a drink in your hands.
“hi, heeseung,” you return his smile, watching him over the rim of your solo cup as you take a sip. “damn, this is nasty. what the hell is this?”
he shrugs lightly, “beats me. jay’s mingling instead of making drinks, so sunghoon’s doing the best that he can, i guess.” you nod before bravely taking another sip of the gross concoction.
“where’s the birthday boy?”
“ask and he shall appear,” jay smiles, coming to stand next to heeseung, “hi, angel, glad you could make it.” you smile at the two men towering over you. “thanks for inviting me, and wony sends her apologies. she got sick over the weekend.”
“that’s alright, hope she feels better.” heeseung says before the two of them begin whisking you off into another part of the house. heeseung separates from you and jay to greet a few people, jay’s hand on your waist to guide you without you getting lost. “i heard hoon’s making drinks? this is nasty, jay, have you taught him nothing?” you tease, glancing behind you at a loud noise sounds behind you. after finding nothing, you begin to turn back to jay before your eyes find jake standing with karina. the sight makes your blood boil, but you nearly shiver after finding him already staring over at you and jay out of the side of his eye. you shake off his dark stare, returning to your conversation with jay, not noticing the way his hand hasn’t left your waist despite the two of you no longer moving through the house.
“i’ll be right back,” jake tells karina, no longer focused on their conversation. karina scoffs lightly, knowing this is the second time in two weeks that jake has left her high and dry while she’s been trying to talk to him.
“jay,” jake greets his best friend, earning him a look of confusion from the birthday boy, “y/n, can i talk to you?” you glance at jay with a confused look, the man in front of you mirroring the same expression back at you.
“i– sure, jake.” you relent, setting down your already empty cup on a random surface before he’s tugging your arm, not caring about the searing grip he has on your wrist.
“didn’t i warn you to not fuck my friends?” jake’s hushed voice meets your ears, a frown pulling onto your lips at the question. you don’t remember talking about being attracted to any of his friends at all, let alone with jake himself.
“what are you talking about, sim?” you question, growing irritated at the implication that he probably thinks you’re easy.
“god, you’re so stupid sometimes,” he growls, pressing you against a bedroom door in the empty hallway. “you don’t even see them all eye fucking you? don’t be naive, y/n.”
you shake your head, convinced he’s fucking with you. “jake, your friends aren’t eye fucking me it’s called being friends with the opposite sex, you should try it instead of being an asshole all the time!”
jake yanks the handle near your hip, tugging the door open and shoving both of you inside before locking it behind him. “you drive me up the fucking wall, you know that?”
“the feeling is mutual, sim,” you deadpan. “are you done yelling at me? i’m ready to leave this fucking room and get far away from you. i’m trying to enjoy myself tonight, jake, i don’t need you fucking with my mood again.”
the dam in his mind breaks, and suddenly jake feels all his resolve slip away. he pushes you up against the closed door and squishes you against it. “god, you’re so fucking annoying, you know that? always know how to push my fucking buttons.”
the proximity has you holding your breath, waiting for his next searing words to tumble out of those plush lips.
“stop staring at my lips,” he demands, taking both of your wrists in one grip of his hand and holding them above your head. “you gonna keep making me mad?”
“stop fucking with me, jake, let me leave.” you know your words hold no weight in either of your minds, your body betraying you as your arousal is evident in the way your legs squeeze together.
jake shakes his head, “you need to shut up and take what i give you, since you’re so ready to be a slut for all my friends.” he grips your chin and squishes your cheeks with his other hand. “you gonna behave for me? or are you gonna be a brat?”
you finally relent, letting go of your argumentative front that you’ve put up around him for years as his grip on your cheeks loosens. you relish in the feeling of allowing him to take control, of jake offering you a moment to just exist without any expectations or responsibilities, to let him take care of you completely, “‘m gonna be good for you, jake.” you watch him with big eyes, his stare unrelenting as he watches you for any sort of discomfort.
“you sure you can take it, angel? i’m not gonna be nice.” you nod briefly, trying to use your hand before he grips tighter, “what is it, pretty? you can still back out now.” he tells you, giving you full control of the situation for a moment.
he watches a look flash across your face before you look downwards, embarrassed at the thought of what you’re about to ask. jake tugs your face to look back at up at him roughly, “want you to choke me,” you mumble. he grins wildly at your admission, hand on your chin snaking down to rest at the base of your neck. “like that, baby?” you nod slightly, pressing your legs further together under his intense stare. “tell jake what else you need.”
you take advantage of his momentary kindness to lean forward and capture his plump lips in a kiss, dirty and messy and utterly desperate. desperate for his touch, however you can get it. jake returns the favor, slotting his lips against yours, feeling every crevice of your gorgeous lips under his own. he fights back a moan, knowing he needs to maintain dominance over the situation. he squeezes tighter on your neck and you let out a small moan, allowing him to press his tongue into your mouth. you nearly gasp at the intrusion, relishing in the feeling of him nearly eating you from the inside out.
jake pulls away to stare back at your face, your expression already portraying how utterly fucked out you are just from a few touches. “can’t just take what you’re given, can you? greedy girl.” his tone is laced with warning.
“i can take it,” you argue lightly and he chuckles before moving you from the door to the bed, making you lie down on the mattress in front of him. “promise.”
“i believe you.” jake admits, sinking down to his knees and flipping your skirt up before pressing his nose against your clothed core. “bet you taste delicious, angel,” he stays there for a moment, licking against the fabric of your panties before pulling away. jake stands back up and unbuckles his belt, “another time, baby. need to fuck the attitude right out of you. always getting on my nerves.”
you watch as jake drops his pants and boxes just below his knees, revealing a thick, veiny cock with a blushing red tip. your cheeks go redder at the sight of him, already afraid of the stretch, “you’re so big.” the words tumble out of you without realization, your cheeks burning at the sudden admission.
“i told you i’m the best, baby,” he taunts you, “don’t worry, i’ll make you take it all like the cock slut we both know you are.” jake rips your panties, pulling a gasp from your chest as he holds the tip against your wet folds, the sight hidden from you by your skirt, “god, this turns you on, doesn’t it? when i call you a pretty little whore?” he feels your walls tighten slightly around his tip at his words and smirk casts over jake’s lips. “so all this time, my little angel has been getting wet every time we talk? dirty girl.” you shake your head, trying to hide your embarrassed face as your cheeks heat up. “don’t lie baby, i can feel you clenching around me.”
all the air is knocked out of your lungs when jake buries his huge length all the way inside, your hands going up to grab his biceps for something to hang onto as he begins ravaging you with a brutal pace, “see what you do to me? you make me so fucking angry, i can’t help but take it all out on you.” he feels your walls flutter around him as his thick cock drags against you, feeling every ridge of your pussy as his tip bruises your cervix with repeated precision. “god, you’re taking me so well, tiny little pussy was made to be destroyed by my big cock, wasn’t it?”
you nod dumbly, feeling cock drunk already, feeling yourself slip further away from reality with every drag of his veiny dick passing through you. jake fucks you into the mattress like he’s trying to split your entire body in half. you can’t get enough as jake moves your arms for a moment to tear your shirt off your body hastily, both hands reaching around and unclasping your bra before discarding both items somewhere in this random bedroom. he watches your tits bounce with each deep thrust, “god look at your tits baby, fuck– i could just eat you alive right now.”
“please,” you whine, not knowing what you’re whining for. “please what, my pretty little slut?” you don’t answer him, moaning loudly as he takes both your tits in his grasp, a hand holding each in a grip that’ll surely leave a mark.
“that’s what i thought,” he quips as he continues to plow into you, his head starting to spin from the feeling of your walls sucking him in with every thrust, never fully accommodating his size, “fuck, just take it all like a good cock slut, you were made to take me.”
his squeezing of one of your tits halts, moving down to pinch your swollen clit harshly, smiling wickedly at the groan of pain and pleasure that escapes your mouth. “too much?” you nod roughly, pleading eyes meeting his dark gaze, “too fucking bad.”
jake begins alternating between pinching and slapping your clit, relishing at the slight squeeze each action grants him, feeling himself tumbling to the edge already. “don’t you dare fucking cum,” he warns as he grabs your hips, shoving you up and down on his length like a fuckdoll, and you take it, sitting pretty with gasps leaving your parted lips as he chases his own pleasure. “fuuuuuck,” jake stills, cumming deep inside you, holding your hips flush to his body until he’s milked his own cock dry. you can feel your body on the edge of an orgasm as you wait for jake to finish you off now that he’s cum inside you.
he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your gaping hole, “god, you still make me so fucking mad,” jake shoves his length back inside roughly, stuffing his cum back into you, “can’t wait to watch you come undone beneath me.” he moans, rubbing rough circles against your clit. you throw your head back, moaning his name loudly.
“that’s it, pretty baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel this good,” jake leans in and bites the skin on your neck, sucking and licking at the spot to soothe it after. he places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss there before leaning up and prying your lips apart, mouth opening obediently. your eyes open in shock, watching him hover above you before he spits in your mouth, then sliding his hand down to rest at the base of your neck, squeezing lightly. “swallow it.” you follow his instructions promptly, a moan escaping your lips after feeling it slide down your throat paired with the pressure he’s applying.
“cum all over my cock, angel,” jake growls in your ear, the grit in his voice causing your dam to break, the rubber band in your stomach snapping before your eyes roll back, colors passing through your vision and limbs feeling numb and tingly as jake fucks you through your orgasm.
“jake, stop–” you attempt to push him off, your actions doing nothing to halt his movements, feeling overstimulated as your orgasm finishes washing over your body. “jake–”
jake leans in, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss to distract you as he slowly slips out of you, taking his fingers and shoving the cum mixture back into your leaking hole. he pulls away, glancing down at the sight of both of your fluids leaking out of you, groaning at the sight, “fuck, you’re perfect,” his head feels dizzy as he catches your lips again, biting softly against your bottom lip before pulling away again. “let me clean you up,” jake presses a final kiss against your lips, resisting the urge to slip his tongue down your throat as far as it can reach.
he returns shortly with a wet cloth from the en suite bathroom, manhandling you to sit further up against the pillows before wiping you down, getting the cum out of your gaping hole. he returns to the bathroom, wiping himself off before tugging his jeans back onto his hips and tossing the washcloth in the trash. whatever frat brother this room belongs to certainly won’t be missing that…
you stare up at the ceiling, panting and wiping the sweat from your forehead. “fuck.”
“fuck what? fuck you? i just did,” he argues, grabbing your torn panties from wherever they landed in the room and pocketing them discreetly.
“shut up, sim,” you cover your eyes with your arm, refusing to look at him.
“hey, look at me,” jake pries your arm off and your eyes open slowly, the sight of him with his post sex glow knocking the wind out of you. “you okay?” his question is sincere, his gaze on you doubly so. you nod lightly, a small smile taking over your features, “good.”
“can’t believe you ripped my panties…” you grumble, sitting up slightly to look for your shirt and bra. jake’s hands grip your tits absentmindedly, “i’m not a fucking stressball, jake!” jake just laughs, pinching one of your nipples in retaliation, watching the nearly silent moan that leaves your perfect pink lips. “fuck, don’t do that again unless you want another round.”
he perks up at the words, “you really mean that?”
“i–”
a loud pounding on the door startles both of you, “open the fuck up!”
you scramble to grab your bra and shirt, shoving them back on as jake wills his slowly rising dick to lower once more. he glances at you and you nod at him. jake unlocks the door and swings it open, meeting the eyes of a very tall, very angry man.
“get the fuck out, both of you,” he booms and the two of you scurry out quickly, a small giggle escaping your lips at the sight of his bright red, angry face.
“he was gonna kick your ass, jake…” you tell him as the two of you rush down the hallway, unknowingly in the opposite direction of the living room.
“would’ve been worth it,” jake smirks, stopping and gripping your hips lightly, the intimacy of his thumbs rubbing on your bare skin making your head spin, “your pussy is heaven.”
you smile, small and subtle, eyes wide, “not mad at me anymore?”
he shakes his lightly, “could never really be mad at you.” jake offers you a coy smile.
“doesn’t seem like it,” you argue, smile slipping from your features the tiniest bit. “well… every time you make me mad i can just fuck you like that again. is that what you want, pretty girl?”
your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, “is that what you want, jake?” he nods slightly, “i’ll fuck you whenever and where ever you want if you’ll let me, baby. no strings attached.”
your heart drops at those three little words leaving his lips, hope of jake reciprocating your feeling sinking deeper into the abyss that clouds your mind most days. his offer is a glimmer of hope, your brain reeling to feel him like that again, even if he’s ‘fucking the attitude’ out of you over and over. you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” you half-lie, continuing to shield your true feelings from him.
“just promise not to fuck any of my friends… you’re mine now.” you nod, heart fluttering at the implication of being jake’s, and the sudden possessiveness he’s now displaying.
jake’s grin grows, pulling you in by your hips for a frantic kiss, pushing his tongue past the expanse of your lips, exploring your mouth with need. you sink into his hold, stomach fluttering at the feeling of one of his hands reaching your ass, squeezing it in his large palm. you groan against his plush lips, allowing him to slip his tongue further down your throat.
“oh my god–” a shrill voice screeching from behind you has you pulling away from jake, seeing sunoo standing there, his hand now covering his eyes, “i’m so sorry, i– jay just told me to round everyone up for cake.” he apologizes and promptly rushes back to the living room.
“don’t worry,” jake whispers, “i can make sure sunoo doesn’t tell a soul, say the word and it’ll be our little secret, angel.”
you nod slightly, staring up at him with wide eyes, “thank you, jake.”
“anything you need and i’ll make it happen,” he promises, giving your ass one last squeeze and a small smack before guiding you forward, “go join the party, i’ll be there in a minute.”
“where have you been, dude?” heeseung questions jake after the cake is cut and shared, prompting the shorter man to shake his head. “nowhere important.” he can see the hidden smile on jake’s face as heeseung watches him, smirking knowingly as he catches your eye in the crowd where you’re talking to riki and waves you over. you excuse yourself and approach the two of them, trying to hide the blush in your cheeks when you glance at jake.
“hi, y/n,” heeseung smiles, “wish you were here earlier, i kicked the birthday boy’s ass in beer pong. it was quite the show.”
you return his smile, “sorry i missed it,” you apologize sincerely, looking down at your plate as you break off another piece of cake to eat. heeseung glances at jake, the smirk still covering his lips. heeseung takes in the way the tips of jake’s ears are turning red as he watches you place a piece of cake in your mouth. “nowhere important, right?” his low tone misses your ears as you munch happily on the vanilla treat.
shit.
jake smacks the back of his head, shooting daggers at his best friend as he whispers, “shut up.”
heeseung leans over to speak into jake’s ear, “just don’t break her heart, jakey boy.”
Tumblr media
things are normal between you and jake during the classes you share, for the most part. you can’t stop staring, watching jake and zoning out as your professors drone on about whatever topic you’re covering during the period. you watch his eyes, beautiful and brown, as they stare forward, glancing to meet your gaze every once in a while. you watch his lips, perfectly plump and pink, which tug into a smirk every time jake catches you staring, biting down on his bottom lip at the sight of you watching him.
you take in the overwhelming presence of him, your nerves running in overdrive since the night before, knowing how absolutely stuffed he makes you feel, how jake’s big hands burn where ever they touch, leaving you yearning to be constantly held by him and his soft palms. his hair urges to have a hand run through it, dark and falling across his face in a satisfying way, framing his forehead delicately.
everything about the man beside you overwhelms you, and you can’t seem to look away.
god, you’re fucked.
Tumblr media
“what the hell is going on between you and jake?” jay questions as you approach him, nearly falling into him as you try to walk around despite the slight buzz filling your bloodstream.
“jongseong, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, grabbing a seltzer from the fridge and cracking it open, not hesitating to take a few gulps before returning your gaze to him. his eyebrow is quirked up when you look at him again, “you’ve never called me by my government name,” jay challenges, smirking with a knowing look.
“shut up,” you move to cover his mouth, to which he swats your hand away easily, his tolerance much higher than yours. “no,” he argues grabbing your wrist as you try to smack him, “i wanna know.”
you narrow your eyes at him, an action he sees right through, knowing you’re not actually angry seeing the blush growing on your cheeks, “nothing is going on between me and jake.”
“no, there’s something there,” jay tells you, “are you two fucking?”
you nearly spit your sip of seltzer out, coughing for a moment as he hits your back lightly, concern washing over jay’s sharp features. “jesus christ, y/n, don’t die in the frat house, none of these idiots here would know how to help you.”
you shake your head, breathing returning to normal, “jay, we’re not fucking.”
“you’re lying,” jay cracks a knowing smile, laughing lightly, “anyone with eyeballs is able to see there’s something there.”
your resolve begins to crumble, the alcohol seeming to take over your brain more and more, “i– i don’t know what we’re doing…” you shake your head lightly, “we… we fucked on your birthday,” you relinquish. “i… i don’t know how he feels about me, jay.” you hear a noise escape your throat, one that sounds far too vulnerable, and you chase the sound with another swig from the can in your hand. “i try not to think about feelings that much, honestly, they’re so overwhelming.”
jay laughs, “yeah… me neither, don’t worry,” he clinks his solo cup against your can and you both take a sip, “who made the first move?”
“jay!” you shove him, “stop asking so many damn questions!”
“tell her not to shove me like that, jake,” jay says, watching you with satisfaction as your eyes go wide and you whip around to see jake approaching the two of you. 
“don’t hit jay, princess, he has weak skin,” jake tells you, to which jay retorts with “fuck you, sim, you’re supposed to be on my side!”
princess?
well that’s a new one… all of these new nicknames jake has given you since he fucked you have been driving your head crazy, less than platonic feelings swelling inside your tiny, drunk brain as you stare up at the man who grabs a water from the fridge.
“i’m on no one’s side here,” jake argues, twisting the cap off and taking a sip of water. you watch his throat suck the liquid down, adam’s apple bobbing. your body buzzes in response to the small action, stopping yourself from reaching out and running a finger, or your tongue, over the expanse of his throat.
jay tucks a finger under your chin, pushing upwards to make your jaw return to the rest of your face. you smack him on the chest, “don’t touch me, jongseong,” you warn, trying to ignore the fact that you were nearly drooling over jake right in front of him.
“you wanted him to see you drooling, then?” jay counters, voice low enough for jake to miss it.
“shut the hell up,” you ignore his words, eyes returning to jake who is watching you expectantly.
“i’ll be back,” jay exits the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit room among the various bottles of liquor lining the island and fridge.
“hi, gorgeous,” jake invades your space, pushing you backwards until your back is pressed against the edge of the cold granite countertop.
“jake!” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away, “are you trying to make sure people see us like this?!” jake wraps a hand around you, his palm splayed against your upper back, pressing you closer to him.
“maybe.”
you shake your head, watching his eyes darken as he watches you, “did you have fun talking to jay, baby?”
“jake, i’m not going to fuck him, so don’t even start getting mad,” you warn.
“i know pretty, i’m the only one who gets to see you like that, aren’t i?” your silence paired with flushed cheeks gives jake the answer he’s searching for, grinning in response. “good.”
“meet me in the bathroom at the end of the hall in two minutes,” he whispers into your ear before departing from the kitchen, the words making you squish your legs together. you wait with bated breath, watching as the clock on the microwave ticks to the next minute. fuck it, you mumble before setting your drink down and following him, knocking softly on the door before jake tugs you inside.
“hmm, eager, are we?” jake teases, locking the door and pulling you against him by your waist as he leans against the bathroom counter. “couldn’t wait any longer, could you?” you shake your head, words failing you as your face sits desperately close to his, desire swirling beneath your skin. “my obedient girl.”
“wanna suck your dick,” you beg, jake groaning and leaning his head back at your admission, “fuck, pretty, you can’t just say shit like that,” he pushes you down onto your knees, watching in awe as you instantly begin to fumble with his pants, tugging them down. you watch with wide eyes at the sight of his half hard dick sitting beneath his boxers, placing a kiss against the length through the fabric.
“don’t tease me, pretty girl,” jake warns, his tone conveying all the punishments you’d receive for disobeying him. “yes, sir,” you reply, the words going straight to jake’s cock as it hardens in your grasp. “say that again,” he groans, watching your tiny hand as you’re barely able to wrap all the way around his girth.
“say what again? sir?” you watch his cock twitch in your hand, the sight bringing a smirk to your face, kitten licking his tip before placing a delicate kiss on his slit. “you’re so big, sir, i don’t know if you’re gonna fit in my mouth…” you look up at him, blinking your eyes innocently.
you watch as his eyes darken at your actions, “i’ll make it fit, angel,” he presses on the back of your head, guiding you to take his length in your mouth. you slide down, his long cock pressing into the back of your throat harshly, the girth of it stretching your mouth out. “fuck, look at you– you were made to take my cock like this.” jake groans as he watches you suck him in, “my cock.” he reiterates and you nod around his length, continuing to bob up and down before jake takes control, fucking your face.
you begin to drool around his length as you let him use your mouth for his own pleasure, “fuck, baby, taking me so well– letting me fuck your throat like this, you’d let me do anything to this perfect body, wouldn’t you?” he doesn’t need a reply, already knowing the answer as he admires the way your lips stretch around his length, the sight stirring a feeling deep in his stomach. jake thinks you look gorgeous like this, gazing up at him with wide eyes and a hungry gaze, somehow taking his cock deeper every time.
his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly as jake fucks your face, chasing his high. you keep your mouth slacked, his girth and length making you feel completely stuffed, “look at these tits,” jake watches your tits bounce beneath your tank top, “fuck, you’re perfect,” jake groans as you reach down and squeeze his balls with one of your hands, the other gripping his thigh to keep yourself upright as you sit back on your haunches.
“i’m gonna cum down that gorgeous throat,” jake babbles, even his mindless near-orgasm ramblings sound like music to your ears. he yanks you back and forth along his length a few more times before shoving your face against his pelvic bone, nose smushing against the space right above the base of his dick. you groan at the feeling of his cum hitting the back of your throat, “take it all like the dirty slut you are,” jake commands, pulling away from your mouth slowly after his balls are empty, watching you with a lazy gaze. “swallow.” you follow his instructions promptly, gulping down before sticking your tongue out for him to examine, the sight nearly making him hard again. “good fucking girl,” he praises you, tugging you up off of your knees to meet your lips in a searing kiss.
you groan realizing jake is tasting himself on your lips, the fact not seeming to bother the man as he pushes his tongue into your mouth hungrily, large hands holding your face possessively. “mine,” he whispers against your lips, feeling as you nod in response. “thank you, baby.” he presses one last, gentle kiss against your waiting lips as he tucks himself back into his jeans. “let me make you feel good, too.”
you shake your head, resting both of your hands on his chest, a yawn rising from deep in your belly, “i’m okay, jakey,” you offer him a smile, “tired all of a sudden.” 
“come on, i’ll take you home.”
Tumblr media
“i missed you,” wonyoung smiles as the two of you sit together in the library, “feels like that damn flu took me out for fifty years,” she exaggerates, giggling lightly as she sips on her coffee through a small blue straw.
“i know. you’ve missed… a lot.” you cover your face, embarrassment already heating your cheeks. “i… jake and i are sleeping together.”
wonyoung squeals and you glance around worryingly, watching as other students glare at the two of you. you smile in apology, turning to wonyoung and smacking her arm, to which she exclaims a small, “ow!”
“why are you hitting me? this is so exciting!” she whisper yells.
you shake your head, “i mean, yeah it’s exciting, kind of…” you sigh before meeting her gaze, “he doesn’t… it’s… he made it clear that this is a no strings attached kind of situation.”
wonyoung’s eyes go wide, “you’re lying!” you shake your head as her expression shows how much of a hard time she is having trying to process this information. “i– and you agreed to that?”
you nod, shame dusting your face and ears in a deep pink hue, “i just… i couldn’t say no, he had just finished fucking the brains out of my skull, and i think i’m just desperate to have him around in any way that i can… even if it means hurting myself in the process.”
“my poor y/nnie… he still doesn’t know you like him?” you shake your head, to which wonyoung sighs, “it’s been so long, why don’t you just tell him? what’s the worst that could happen?”
“you know exactly what could happen, wony. i could fuck up years of a friendly-ish relationship, and double fuck up the situation we have now. feelings just get in the way of everything.”
wonyoung places her hand atop yours on the table, rubbing the back of your hand in a soothing motion, “well, whatever you decide, it will all turn out okay. i promise. i don’t think jake would ever hurt you on purpose.”
you inhale deeply at the thought of jake caring about you on more than a surface level. “don’t say that, don’t get my hopes up… it’s just gonna hurt more when everything ends up exploding in my face.”
Tumblr media
you don’t know how jake convinced you to go to the library with him, citing something about how you’ve been sucking in class these days and he needed to make sure you were studying so that he still had someone to compete against. which was a lie, you were doing just fine in class recently.
you’re absolutely trying to study, but feeling jake beside you makes it an impossible feat. your eyes skim over the digital textbook on your laptop in front of you as jake zones out at random areas of the room, every once in a while his eyes landing on you as he stares for a beat before allowing his eyes to wander around the room once more.
jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as the two of you sit side by side, tapping a pattern on his jeans as he struggles to focus. you eye him up with a confused stare, “what is it?”
jake pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, the sight sending heat straight to your core. “you don’t wanna know, baby.”
his response has a strange bout of confidence sprouting inside your tummy. your hand rises to meet him, rubbing and squeezing on his inner thigh, scarily close to his dick that’s getting harder by the second, “you don’t wanna do that, angel.” jake warns, watching you with a dark gaze. you can see the lust fluttering through his irises, dark and intoxicatingly addictive. you move up to his clothed bulge, giving him a feather light squeeze. jake bites back a groan, his head tipping back as his eyes flutter shut in an attempt to keep his composure. he leans over to whisper in your ear. you can feel his breath on your neck sending shivers up your spine.
“stop, or i’ll bend you over this table right now and fuck you in front of everyone here.”
you gasp in response, grinning as you watch him with a mischievous look in your eye, one that he’s come to quickly recognize since agreeing to your… special relationship.
jake pulls back, his stare darker than moments before and you feel yourself falling into his brown eyes, pupils wide and staring at you as lust dances across his irises. “last chance to back out, angel.”
you shake your head lightly before jake rises, packing both bags in a hurry, tugging you out of the library and heading to your apartment building. “your apartment better be empty, or else wonyoung might get a free show.”
“oh my god, jake,” you’re barely able to keep up with him as he drags you along with him, nearly stumbling over your own feet to keep up. you enter your lobby, leading him to your first floor room and unlocking the door hastily. the moment he’s inside the foyer of your apartment, jake is shoving you up against the door, his lips finding yours instantly. “trying to work me up in front of everyone, baby?” he purrs, one hand cupping your face gently while the other has a searing grip on your hips. every spot he touches burns, watching him with affection in your gaze. “too needy to wait until later, huh?”
you nod dumbly, covering the hand against your cheek with your own, nuzzling against it as you try to hide your growing shame at being so insatiable that you couldn’t even be in public with him for more than thirty minutes before jumping his bones.
“oh, my pretty girl’s all shy now that we’re home? what happened to that brat attitude from before?” jake kisses the back of his teeth before placing a closed mouth kiss on your pouty lips. you hide from his gaze, embarrassed at your bratty behavior from before. “‘m sorry, sir.”
jake nearly moans hearing you use the name he heard for the first time just days before in the bathroom when you sucked his soul out through his dick. he pulls you close in another passionate, messy kiss. “yeah? baby’s sorry?” you nod, watching him with wide, innocent eyes, not seeing the wheels turning in his head as he watches your tiny figure with glee.
jake walks you through the hallway, lips wandering and planting kisses on every bit of exposed skin on your upper half. you lead him to your door, twisting the handle quickly before stumbling inside. jake shuts the door with his foot as he backs you up onto your bed. “i think my baby deserves a punishment.”
jake presses further against your lips, his hands sliding up your frame to hold your tits gently, “could play with these all day,” he mumbles, kneading them in his large hands. you kiss him back slowly, feeling the tension from the past few days dissipate the further he pulls you in, losing yourself in the feeling of his soft lips dancing against yours.
jake smiles as he gives each breast one final squeeze before pulling your sweatshirt over your head, “had i known you were bare under here, baby…” jake sucks harshly on your nipple, your back arching up against his mouth, begging for more.
“you’re lucky i didn’t bend you over that table,” he bites at your breast, leaving a teeth mark on the side of the plump flesh. “everyone would learn fast who you belong to, wouldn’t they?”
you nod, moaning out as he continues his onslaught against your nipple, sucking and biting with fervor, his cock standing tall and proud in his sweatpants.
“you wore those on purpose,” you squeak out between loud moans.
“what? these?” jake motions to the gray sweatpants covering his strong legs, “didn’t know they’d affect you so much, would’ve worn them way sooner if i knew you’d pounce on me like the little slut you are.” he guides your hand to the crotch of his pants, allowing you to squeeze his length through the fabric of his sweats. more wetness gushes out of you at the feeling of the weight of his member, knowing all the damage he can do to you with it. “my little slut, isn’t that right?” you nod diligently, rubbing up and down on his length, trying to rile him up.
jake halts your actions, “naughty whore, can’t even be patient,” he scolds, leading your hand to dip under his waistband. you gasp at the feeling of him not wearing any boxers, allowing you to hold him in your hand, warmth spreading through your body as you jack him off lazily.
jake pulls his sweats down just below the base of his dick and it springs free, hard and ready for you. “fuck–” you groan, watching closely as your hand continues its diligent motions. “love your cock, sir.”
“i know you do, baby,” jake pets your hair gently, “such a good little cock slut, always ready to take me,” he dips his other hand beneath the waistband of your sweats, pushing his hands through your folds. “already this wet and i’ve barely even touched you.”
“just for you,” you groan as he dips one finger inside, pumping roughly, searching for that spongy spot inside of you. jake slips another finger inside, his movements quickening as he listens for the gorgeous noises he loves to hear spill from your lips.
“pull these down,” jake commands and you use your free hand to tug your pants and panties down and off your legs. jake can feel himself salivating at the sight of your gorgeous pussy, slipping a third finger inside next to the other two. he buries them knuckle deep before pulling out, repeating his actions over and over as he watches your facial expressions convey the pleasure he’s bringing you. “fuck, look at you, weak for me and i’m only using my fingers,” the commanding tone in his voice makes you shiver, eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze, dark and swimming with lust. “fuck, jake–” you groan as you feel his fingers begin to reach deeper, your pussy nearly swallowing his hand to the knuckles each time.
“look at how i’ve stretched this tiny pussy out,” jake chuckles, his voice rumbling with need as he glances down at his cock where you’ve halted your handjob, back arching off the bed. he removes his fingers promptly, causing you to whine loudly.
“sir, please–” you plead, eyes brimming with tears, “was so close! i’ll be a good girl!”
jake watches you with amusement, the sight of you whimpering beneath him forcing his brain into overdrive, “good girls do as they’re told. keep jacking me off and if you stop again i won’t let you cum.” you nod at his words, resuming your actions, groaning as you pay extra attention to his leaky red tip, squeezing harder every time you reach the top.
jake dips three fingers back inside you, watching as you squeak out and start panting as he hits a particular spongy spot inside of you. jackpot.
he assaults this spot, other hand snaking down to rub mercilessly at your clit. jake groans as your grip on him becomes tighter as you near your high, “gonna make a mess on my fingers like the good girl you are?”
you nod quickly, mouth hanging slack with your tongue lolling out as you squeak at every jab against your g-spot. “f– f– u– uck–” you scream out between thrusts, your pace on his dick speeding up as you approach the edge. 
with one particularly tight yank of his dick and a swipe over his tip, jake cums hard, liquid spurting out onto your chest and some on your gaping hole. he stills his actions for a moment before coating fingers on both of his hands with his seed. you feel his cum inside you, tears flowing at the onslaught of varying sensations on you at once. his other hand returns to your clit, his lips coming to suck on it as he rubs roughly, while still fucking you with his long, slender fingers.
“ahh!–” you scream out, back arching off the bed as the coil inside you threatens to snap, “fuck! jake–” a slap against your clit followed by a harsh suck of the hardened bud causes you to tumble past your precipice, all of your limbs stilling as jake never halts his actions. he pulls away from your clit to look down. the sight of you cumming, liquid spilling everywhere makes his cock jump, “fuuuuuck, baby,” he continues ramming his fingers inside of you with expert precision, “such a messy girl.”
his words bring a burning sensation to your cheeks, trying to scramble away from jake as he overstimulates you heavily, never ceasing his actions, “jake, please–”
“you’ve got one more in you, baby,” jake tells you, “let jake help you.”
jake removes his fingers before sliding home, his thick cock reaching impossibly deep inside you instantly, sucking him in with familiarity and a still present stretch from the sheer size of him. “fuck, your pussy is heaven sent, angel,” jake’s need overtakes him, jackhammering inside of you harshly, your body jerking with each thrust inside of your already abused hole. he snakes a hand around, holding your asscheeks apart with both hands, lightly tracing a finger around the rim of your asshole. “ahh!–” you gasp at the intrusion, “jake!–”
“this belongs to me, too,” jake tells you, slowly pushing the pad of his finger past your puckered ring, “jake!” you scream, eyes rolling back at the feeling of being double stuffed, even with just a bit of his finger breaching your ass.
“i knew you’d be a slut for anal,” jake whispers as his pounding continues, finger slowly pushing further in through your backdoor, “i’ll hit it from the back next time, how about that, my dirty girl?”
you shake your head, your body’s reaction saying the opposite as jake starts to pump his finger in and out of your tight hole in rhythm with the way his cock is pounding your pussy. “moremoremore!”
“yeah baby? more?��� jake shoves his finger further, picking up speed in both holes, nearly cumming seeing the bruise already forming on your plush breast from the searing bite he gave it earlier, the imprint of his teeth visible even from a distance. jake uses his free hand to squeeze your throat tightly, “greedy little cock slut always needs more, can’t just take what she’s given.”
your vision starts to go white from the pressure on your windpipe combined with jake’s dick hitting your spongy spot and his finger pumping knuckle deep into your ass, knowing he’s the only one who’s ever been there. your eyes roll back into your head as you cum, the experience feeling different from any other time you’ve orgasmed.
“you trying to make me cum right now? squirting on me like that, baby?” more liquid continues to gush out of your hole, the wetness on jake’s dick making him groan loudly. he pulls his finger from your ass when the liquid is done streaming from your weeping cunt, smacking your ass harshly and groping at your cheek. “next time, i’m fucking this ass.” he gives you another rough smack, this time on the opposite side, before pulling out of you. “right now? i’m gonna fuck these tits.” jake crawls up your body sliding his dick between your plush mounds of flesh, squeezing them tight around his length. “look at you, letting me use this fucking perfect body however i need,” jake groans, pinching your nipple with one of his hands as he pumps in and out, eyes trained on the way your tits nearly completely cover his length. he chases his high, knowing you’re not anticipating his next actions, your eyes fighting to stay open as he uses you as he pleases.
“fuck, you’re perfect,” jake whispers, teetering on the edge of cumming before he slides away from your tits, shoving his length back into your gaping pussy. a few pumps is all it takes before he’s spilling inside of you, cum hitting your walls in long spurts and filling your pussy, dripping out of you and landing on the sheets beneath you. jake fucks you through his orgasm, pushing two fingers into your mouth before rubbing your abused clit with precision.
“no!– no more, jake!–” you try to push him away, overstimulation tingling around your body after two mind blowing orgasms have already rendered you utterly exhausted.
“your body’s telling me otherwise,” jake smirks, feeling your pussy tighten around him with every pump of his cock and flick of your hardened nub, “gonna give you one more, angel. you can do it.”
you argue against him, the little whimpers leaving your mouth betraying your actions. you scream loudly as the wave of pleasure washes over you, and still jake fucks you through it, his movements never ceasing. you still as it wrecks through you, orgasm finally subsiding as jake pulls out of you slowly, hands running up the sides of your body gently, holding you like you’ll break if he presses too hard. he traces the curves of your body with admiration, wondering how he got so fucking lucky to have you beneath him.
“look at my pretty girl.” he smiles as he watches you return to the land of the living, your mind spinning after three orgasms. jake leans over your body, placing gentle kisses all over your face and neck, littering your body with affection. “did so good for me, angel. such a good girl.” you smile as his words register in your ears, the ringing in them finally leaving as your body returns to its natural state of relaxation.
“no more, please,” you beg.
jake nods, offering you a smile, one that neither of you realize has hidden feelings brewing behind it. “no more, promise. my baby did so good.” he stands on the side of the bed, picking you up and leading you to the bathroom. jake sits you on the counter and starts running water, testing the temperature for you before corking the tub and watching it fill with perfectly hot water.
“mmm– jakey,” you mumble.
he turns to you, standing between your legs, rubbing circles on your kneecaps as he watches your drooping eyes try to focus on his face. “still with me, angel?” you nod lightly as he places a kiss on your forehead. “good, gonna get you all cleaned up and then we’ll get some sleep, okay?” you nod again.
jake sits there for a moment, memorizing the lines of your face and the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. he turns and stops the water from running. “come here, beautiful,” jake lifts you up again and places you into the tub. you sit there, mind still fuzzy, watching the ceiling lights reflect against the surface of the water. jake tugs his shirt off before sliding in behind you, letting your back rest against his chest.
jake grabs your body wash, lathering it between his hands before he gently spreads the bubbles across your body, diligently scrubbing your tired body clean.
“thank you,” you mumble, leaning the crown of your head back against his chest to look up at him, “of course, angel.” he kisses your forehead and you smile at the action, feeling him rinsing the soap from your skin before your eyes flutter shut for a moment.
the sight of you falling asleep against jake gives him a warm feeling in his stomach.
he washes up quickly, trying to not disturb your sleeping form. jake uncorks the bath and stands, reaching for the nearby towel before helping you to your feet. he dries himself quickly after realizing there’s only one towel, and then he’s wrapping you in it and guiding you to step out of the tub, your eyes still conveying how tired you are. jake tugs on his sweats before stepping back into your bedroom, digging through your drawers for clean clothes. he finds a suitable sleep set and a clean pair of panties before returning to your exhausted form standing still in the bathroom, leaning against the countertop.
“alright pretty,” he guides your legs to step into your panties, pulling them up your legs slowly before following them with a pair of shorts, “did so good for me, baby.” he reassures your tired mind, placing a gentle kiss on your hip after pulling the shorts up to rest on your waist.
jake finishes drying off your top half before tugging the shirt he picked out over your frame, helping you get your arms into the holes. once you’re fully dressed, he watches you with an unknown emotion stirring deep inside his body. “nap time,” he offers you a smile before leading you back to your bed, making note to wash your cum covered sheets later once the two of you wake up again. he lays you down on top of your comforter to keep a barrier between the stained sheets and your freshly washed body, crossing the room to grab a throw blanket and placing it on top of you. jake sneaks in behind you, wrapping his arms around your center and resting his head on your shoulder, breathing in your fresh scent, a smell that brings a sense of peace to his otherwise busy mind.
“get some sleep,” jake kisses your cheek then your shoulder before returning his head to the place it feels most comfortable.
“goodnight, angel.”
Tumblr media
you slide through the front door of the frat house the next day, watching as yet another party unfolds before your eyes. you glance around, looking for heeseung or jay, or even sunghoon, knowing jake would reveal himself later in the evening when he got tired of watching you walk around in the tiniest skirt known to man, one you wore purposely just to rile him up.
you pass by a few aquaintances as you continue your search, greeting them kindly, stopping for small talk. the hallways reveal none of the men you’re looking for as you glance down the endless expanse of random doors that line the walls. you stand at the bottom of the stairs, about to head up before you see two people nearly fucking on the top of the steps, causing you to turn around and head back towards the living room.
you walk out into the backyard, finding sunghoon talking with someone near the side of the house, beginning to approach them before you stop. their hushed voices reach your ears as a distinct accent hits you.
“there’s no way you don’t like her, man, i’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“sunghoon,” jake warns, “i don’t like y/n, bro. she means nothing to me, seriously. drop it.”
you feel your heart shatter beneath your ribcage, pieces scattering out and stabbing themselves into your organs as you step back into the house, bumping into someone who catches you before you can tumble to the ground.
“y/n, you okay?” heeseung asks as he watches you, searching your face.
“i– i’m fine heeseung,” you try to wrestle from his hold, “please let me go,” you whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks pathetically, trying to hide your embarrassed face from the tall man.
heeseung drags you into the kitchen, thankfully empty of jay’s usual presence, and he lifts you to sit you down on the counter, the cold surface against your bare legs grounding you the slightest bit. “what’s wrong? do i need to call wonyoung?”
you shake your head, burying your face in your hands, sobs racking your entire body. “i’m so stupid,” you explain between tears, “i shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, i really didn’t mean to, but i heard jake talking about me with sunghoon and i–” you whimper audibly, wiping your eyes with your forearm as you look up at heeseung, who is watching you closely. “i like him so much, heeseung, i have for so long, and he said i didn’t even mean anything to him, and now i feel so fucking embarrassed!” you ramble, your mind feeling fuzzy as you try to fight the tears continuing to tumble down your cheeks, “ever since jay’s birthday party he’s been treating me different, and sometimes i guess i had tricked myself into thinking he might like me back… he– he says the sweetest things whenever we have sex, and treats me so gentle after and calls me all these nicknames… i guess he just says that shit to every girl he manages to get in his bed,” your crying has slowed, anger beginning to mix with sadness as your emotions shift slightly.
“i can’t believe i actually went along with his dumb idea,” you scold yourself, “i’m seriously so stupid.”
you can’t believe you wanted so desperately for jake to return your feelings that you let him use you, believing that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did. and he shoved your hope right back in your face just to taunt you with it.
god, this is useless.
you’re useless, your brain reminds you.
maybe jake had a point in using you for his own pleasure. he has never once shown you any romantic interest before you agreed to a change in your relationship dynamic, so why would anything change suddenly at the drop of a hat?
why would you think you’d ever be enough for him?
you shake your head, eyes brimming with more tears at the memory of allowing him to use you without question, wondering if you even meant anything at all to jake, sexually or otherwise. how had your crush gotten so bad that you’d let a man devour you and rip you apart just to leave you to pick up the pieces yourself? the sim jaeyun you found yourself crushing on was leagues different than the man you just overheard, and you felt your stomach sink at the thought of the boy you once knew becoming barely recognizable.
“y/n,” heeseung’s voice brings you out of the fog, “y/n, it’s okay, you’re not stupid.” he wraps you in a tight hug, the tears returning as you soak the shoulder of his shirt. “jake’s stupid if he doesn’t realize what a catch you are, pretty.” he rubs your back gently.
“everything okay in here?”
“not now,” heeseung attempts to shoo jake away, to which the australian boy stands still, watching with confusion. “jake, seriously, go away.”
heeseung stumbles as jake shoves him lightly, “what the fuck did you do, man!”
“what you should be asking is what the fuck did you do, jake,” heeseung glares at him, watching his best friend nearly fuck up everything he doesn’t know he’s been longing for this whole time.
jake lets heeseung’s words slip past him, turning to you, eyes lined with concern, “you okay?”
you watch jake, tears still slowly sliding down your red cheeks, shaking your head, “leave me alone, sim.” the venom in your tone tears at his heart, watery gaze watching him with hatred brewing in his heart, “don’t pretend like you care about me.”
“i–”
“jake, leave before something worse happens,” heeseung advises him, holding back the words he actually wants to say to his helplessly blind and stupid best friend. jake obeys, walking slowly out of the kitchen with one last glance at you, the sight of you crying into heeseung’s hold nearly breaking him in two.
oh fuck.
the tidal wave of emotions hits jake all at once, feelings he’s unknowingly denied since you first met all those years ago beginning to settle into his gaze, watching you with hurt at the way you pushed him away with your words.
heeseung pulls jay into the kitchen as he’s walking by, instructing him to take care of you. heeseung approaches jake, who is standing right outside the kitchen and tugs him further into the house, away from you and your sad eyes. “jake, what the fuck dude!”
“i didn’t do anything!” he fights back.
“why the hell would you say that shit about her to hoon!”
realization dawns on him, bringing jake to rub a tired hand against his face, “god, she heard me, didn’t she?” jake asks sheepishly, to which heeseung hits him in the shoulder, saying “yes, you idiot!”
“fuck…” jake sighs deeply, looking up at heeseung, “i really fucked up, didn’t i?”
“yes, dummy!”
jake pinches the bridge of his nose, biting his lower lip out of frustration, “if i was her i’d hate me right now.”
“did you actually mean all that shit you said?”
“i– i didn’t really think much about what we were doing, but hoon was grilling me and saying all this shit like he always does and i just wanted him to shut the hell up, he was overwhelming me with all his stupid questions,” jake shakes his head, frustration brewing in his stomach.
“you like her, don’t you?” jake doesn’t meet heeseung’s eyes, only nodding and sighing deeply, “i didn’t think i did, but seeing her push me away like that made me so sad, dude. i don’t want her to hate me…”
“sometimes you’re stupid, jake,” heeseung places his hands on his shoulders, “just go, man. sleep it off and give her some space. you broke her damn heart, dude.”
Tumblr media
you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, glancing around before realizing you’re still in the frat house. “good morning, sunshine,” sunghoon smiles at you as he exits the bathroom, “about time you woke up.”
“sunghoon… what the hell happened last night?” your mind is running a mile a minute, praying you didn’t sleep with jake’s best friend.
“there was no funny business, don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he reassures you, “heeseung brought you here after you nearly cried yourself into a coma in the kitchen.”
you rub at your eyes, sighing loudly as the night’s events wash over you suddenly. “jake’s not here, is he?”
sunghoon shakes his head, “no, he’s not here, so don’t freak out.”
you sigh loudly, “are jay and heeseung here?” sunghoon nods in response, “yeah, jay’s probably cooking something up for you right now.”
“morning, sleeping beauty,” jay greets you as you stumble into the kitchen, the clothes against your skin meant for a much larger frame as you nearly trip over the extra fabric hanging off the bottom of your sweatpants, the legs too long for your shorter body. these must be heeseung’s…
“hi,” you return the greeting, sliding up to sit at a barstool at the island. “is… are you guys okay?”
“us?” jay questions, glancing back at you from his spot at the stove where he’s frying two eggs for you, “i should be asking how you are, y/n.”
“i– i don’t know, honestly. my head really hurts.” jay nods his head towards the end of the island, “heeseung left some ibuprofen out for you.”
you take it, mentally noting to thank him later. “how are you feeling about… everything you heard?” jay questions, trying to choose his words carefully.
“i– he really hurt me, jay.” jay can hear the sniffle in your voice, mentally cursing out his best friend for being so damn blind to his own feelings this whole time. “i don’t… i don’t think i’m gonna go to class today. i can’t face him right now.” your voice is small, your spirit broken from what you overheard last night, knowing all of this, all of you, everything the two of you experienced together and made each other feel, truly meant nothing to him.
“eat up,” jay presents your plate to you. “how’d you know how i like my eggs?”
jay shrugs, grinning, “lucky guess,” he lies easily, knowing now wouldn’t be the right time to tell you that jake gave all six of his close friends a rundown on your favorite and most hated foods after getting plastered one night a few weeks ago.
heeseung ends up driving you back to your apartment, despite protests that it’s close enough to walk. he drops you off, making you promise to eat lunch at the least.
you spend the day lying in bed, alternating between crying until you can feel your chest heaving and a dryness in your eyes from having already cried all the liquid out of your body, to taking intermittent naps, snuggling under your blanket, grasping it tightly for any semblance of stability.
of all the people he chose to hurt, it had to be you. you, the person who has been with him through many stages of life, competing closely with him and hiding your feelings from the first day that you met. the doe eyed boy you met all those years ago felt like a distant memory from the man who decided to control your life and mind, using you for his own gain and tossing you aside when he felt it was fitting.
oh the things you’d do to forget you ever met sim jaeyun.
the next day you drag yourself out of bed, attempting to at least look presentable before stumbling into class, walking to the back and sitting next to riki, not daring to even glance in jake’s direction. riki greets you with a slight nod of his head and you offer him a small smile, the most genuine one you can muster up, for him not forcing you to speak. you know your voice will betray you, and the minute you start speaking you’ll cry instantly.
jake can’t stop looking back at you, his heart breaking every time he sees the frown etched into your features, brows tugged down and lips curling into the opposite of what he wants to see. he tries to catch your gaze, but you avoid him completely, “can he stop looking back here,” you mumble, pulling a small chuckle from riki’s lips. “don’t pay him any mind, y/n.”
the class goes by agonizingly slow, each pointed glance in your direction from jake tearing the pieces of your heart further apart. you ignore him time after time until the professor dismisses you, and you turn to riki with pleading eyes. “can i… can i walk out with you?”
“of course,” riki’s kindness makes your gloomy day a little bit brighter as he gathers his things and leads you out of the classroom, using the door furthest from jake. jake watches you leave, sighing deeply, hoping you won’t avoid him forever.
you walk into your next class with jake a minute late, glancing around to see all the seats taken besides your usual one beside the man you’d like to see the least right now. you set your things down gently and take your seat, watching the professor as they drone on about the lesson. you will your brain to focus on the lecture, but the presence beside you is causing a thumping in your skull and a buzz in your bones. jake keeps stealing glances at your profile, watching and holding himself back from reaching out to touch you gently, to calm the leg that you’re shaking beneath your desk.
you spend the period zoning out, not even caring when the teacher hands out the tests from last week, a high score sitting atop your worksheet. jake watches as you pick the paper up, seeing that he’s lost to you again. the realization doesn’t bring him anger or a competitive drive today, no, it brings him an immense feeling of being lost. jake thinks he’s lost apart of himself when you started ignoring him, and he knows it’s his own fault, vowing to heeseung that he’d fix what he broke between the two of you
you leave the classroom as quickly as humanly possible, hoping to escape without jake catching you. “y/n, please, can we talk?” he questions after catching your wrist in his grasp in the hallway.
you shake your head, watching him with a teary gaze, unable to even squeak out all the things you want to say to him. you want to curse him for ever making you fall for him completely. you urge to reach out and pound your fists against his chest, knowing he’s not hurting the way you are. you want to cry in front of him, making him watch to see how he’s broken you down to the lowest version of yourself. but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of any of these reactions, knowing he’d love to see you suffering because of him, knowing he played you just the exact way he planned to.
you yank your hand away from his grip, the skin burning after you rip it from his grasp. you leave as fast as your exhausted, beat down body can carry you, opting to skip the rest of the day’s obligations.
Tumblr media
“y/n, here,” wonyoung perches herself on the side of your bed, “i brought you some ramen, heeseung dropped it off for you, said it’s his favorite brand.” heeseung had omitted the fact that this brand is actually jake’s favorite and not his, the sneaky bastard. she smiles as she presents the bowl to you, with some fresh toppings she obviously adding sitting atop the broth and noodle mixture.
“thanks, wony,” you take a bite, groaning at the taste, “this is so good.”
“good,” she watches you eat with worried eyes, “how are you feeling?”
you swallow your bite before looking up at her, “a little better, i guess.”
wonyoung offers you a weak smile, knowing it’s killing her inside to see you going through this situation with jake. “are you going to your next class?” she questions, hoping you’ll say yes, knowing your grades will start to be affected if you keep skipping the way you have the past few days. she also knows all too well that no man is worth jeopardizing your future over, no matter how long you’ve liked him.
you nod, slurping up the bowl’s contents with speed, “yeah, my professor emailed and asked if i was okay, and i don’t want to worry her any further.”
wonyoung nods in approval at your response, “good. just ignore him the whole time, okay?” to which you nod, gulping down the rest of your broth.
you approach your next class feeling a bit better after eating the meal wonyoung so generously made for you, even if ramen is quick and easy to make, she really didn’t have to care for you the way she did time and time again.
you feel a tug on your arm as someone tugs you in the opposite direction of the place you were heading to, pulling the both of you inside an empty classroom and blocking the exit.
you look up to see jake watching you, his eyes less bright than they usually appear to be, the spark you see whenever he’s hellbent on beating you seemingly absent from his gaze.
“please don’t,” you beg him, not wanting to hear him gloat or whatever the hell he’s planning to do here.
“y/n, please,” jake begs, eyes searching your face for some kind of reassurance that you wouldn’t leave, “please, i need to apologize.”
“you don’t have anything to apologize for,” you lie straight through your teeth, “so can i please just leave?”
jake’s pleading voice is slowly breaking down your resolve, “please, can i at least explain?” when you don’t answer, he takes the opportunity to start laying his feelings out on the table.
“whatever you heard me say, i know it sounded horrible, but i didn’t mean it.”
“oh, so you didn’t mean that i meant nothing to you?” he winces at the words that you throw back in his face, knowing that was one of the worst things he could’ve said.
“no, i didn’t mean it,” jake tells you, gaze piercing yours, “i– i was stupid, y/n, you have to believe me. i only said that to get sunghoon to back off, of course i care about you. i’ve spent how many years by your side? and you think i would actually hate you?”
the words ring in your ears, making your head hurt as you continue to listen to him. “i’m so sorry, y/n, i really am. sunghoon wouldn’t leave me alone and i just wanted him to shut up for once.” jake rubs his hands over his face, breathing a deep sigh against his palms before shoving them back into his jacket pockets, gaze meeting yours again. “when we started messing around… i didn’t know how i felt… i thought it was just fun. but every time i saw you i felt weird, and i didn’t know what it meant, i figured it was normal because we’ve been rivals for so long and i’ve always felt this drive to be better than you. but it started feeling different… i started to just want to be around you all the time, whether we were fucking or not, and i kept denying it to everyone who would ask me.”
jake’s mind flashes back to the countless times sunghoon has harassed him, asking when he’s going to confess to you. “i don’t know when i realized it, but i like you, y/n. i guess i have this whole time, and i’m so sorry i made you think that i didn’t.” he resists the urge to reach out and hold your hand in his, knowing the physical touch would likely only bring him comfort, versus the intent being to ground you as well. “i… i really fucked up, i shouldn’t have asked you to be in a friends with benefits relationship, i should’ve known that’s not what you wanted. i’m sorry if you ever felt like i was using you, i… i’m sorry i didn’t realize my feelings sooner.”
jake’s speech knocks the wind out of you as you stare at him blankly, tears brewing in your eyes, “jake, i–” you mumble, mind swimming at his admission. “thank you for apologizing, i– i think i need some time, if that’s okay.” he nods quickly in response, the action warming you up inside.
“take all the time you need. what i just said is a lot, and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me. i just needed to tell you before i lost you forever.”
“i– i’ll talk to you later okay?” jake nods, moving out of the way of the door, watching you walk away. anxiety brews in his gut as he hopes with his entire being that you’ll forgive him, even though deep down he wonders if he even deserves an ounce of forgiveness.
jake concludes that he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, that he’s royally fucked up and he’s determined to fix what he’s broken between the two of you.
Tumblr media
you let your emotions brew for a few days, jake choosing to give you space during class and every other time you find yourself near him. relief washes over you every time you see him and he doesn’t rush to your side, knowing the simple action would just further complicate the already confusing thoughts in your mind.
you’re still obviously hurt by what he said, jake’s words creating a hole in your heart feeling like you wasted so much time loving someone and hoping to be loved back, even agreeing to a relationship you knew you couldn’t handle without your emotions getting in the way somehow.
the sincerity of his apology and the fear in his eyes when he explained everything to you still remains in your mind, all the positive memories you have with jake sitting in the forefront of your consciousness. you are itching to forgive him, but the fear of him breaking your heart again rings through your mind with every passing thought.
you’ve made a decision in your head, praying it’s the right one, not wanting to get burned again.
“can i talk to you?”
jake nods his head, bidding his friend goodbye as he follows you through campus. you stop at a bench near the fountain by the engineering building, watching as the water spouts up in a gorgeous display, zoning out for a minute. jake waits patiently for you to speak as he takes a seat next to you.
“jake,” you turn to look at him, “i… i accept your apology.” jake’s eyes light up at your admission, “i know feelings are complicated, mine certainly are right now, i just– did you know the whole time how much i liked you?”
jake shakes his head, “no, y/n, i wouldn’t put you through that on purpose, i promise.”
you nod in response, watching your hands that are clasped together in your lap for a moment before looking back up at him. “i– do you really like me? you promise you’re not lying?”
jake nods, reaching out to take your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze, “no lies, i promise.”
“what… where do we go from here?”
jake thinks for a moment, not prepared for the question, before sucking in a breath and asking, “how about i take you out on a real date?”
he catches you off guard with his question, “yeah?” he nods, “yeah, pretty. i meant everything i said, i don’t want you to slip away when you mean so much to me… it just took me an embarrassingly long time to realize how absolutely infatuated with you i am.”
his last sentence makes you embarrassed and you attempt to hide your burning cheeks, knowing your ears are betraying you with the tips turning red. “okay, sim, you can take me on a date.” jake’s eyes sparkle at your agreement, relief crashing over his body in an overwhelming display. you smile at the way his eyes shine as he watches you, feeling contentment settle into your heart, as if he’s putting the broken pieces back together slowly, fixing what he accidentally broke inside you.
Tumblr media
“jake, where are you taking me?” you question, brow quirked as the man you’ve wanted for so long stands before you, leaning against his sleek red car. the sight of him waiting so casually, eyes trained off at something in the distance, makes your heart flutter.
“hi, beautiful,” jake greets you, grabbing your hand and raising it above your head, guiding you to do a spin for him as he appreciates your outfit. “you look gorgeous, angel.”
“you don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” you smile at jake as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you inside. he steps over and takes his seat on the driver’s side, the engine revving to life with the press of a button. “where are we heading?"
jake uses his left hand to steer, the right resting on the gear shift as he takes the two of you off campus, being extra careful as his car now has precious cargo inside. “it’s a surprise,” the midday sun beams down on the two of you as he turns into a neighborhood. you watch his face, appreciating every feature that you’ve admired for years, heart swelling at the thought of the man in front of you reciprocating your feelings.
jake shifts the car into park after a short drive and you look around, taking in the surrounding area. a playground sits in front of you, a small forest sitting a ways behind it, tall trees towering over everything nearby. the sun still cascades through the leaves as jake opens your door, shutting it behind you as you step onto the asphalt of the parking lot surrounding you. he opens his small trunk, pulling a basket out and a small pink and white checkered blanket. you feel a buzz beneath your skin as your eyes sparkle, realizing jake has packed the two of you a picnic lunch for your first date.
jake leads you over to a small patch of grass behind the playground set, the spot having the greenest grass. you wonder if he picked this spot special for the two of you, the possibility of it making your heart soar. he lays the blanket down, flattening it out so no wrinkles are in sight before placing the basket on top and helping you sit down.
“don’t go thinking i’m some master chef now, okay? i had jay help me…” jake says, wanting to hide his face in embarrassment as he pokes fun at himself. you watch as he pulls a variety of dishes out, “but i made some stuff by myself, too!”
this feels strange, but seeing the usually confident and argumentative man you have fought against academically for all these years seemingly doubting himself? it is definitely a different sensation than the ones you’re used to. but the sight made your insides feel fuzzy, butterflies sprouting in your tummy, watching in real time as you feel yourself falling for him even more. “jake, this is lovely,” you place a hand on his arm, his movements halting in response as you reassure him, giving him a light squeeze. “you’re lovely. i’m flattered you did all of this for me.”
“i wanted you to see that i’m serious about this, about us.”
jake takes the plates and bowls out, handing you one, before setting the silverware down in the middle of the blanket. “here, we made some of my favorites and some foods i remember you mentioning over the years… i hope you still like them,” you can hear how nervous he is, “jake, seriously, stop freaking out. it’s just me,” you tell him as he opens one of the glass dishes revealing a bowl of homemade kimchi stew, a dish you know jake has loved for a long time.
“that doesn’t help me,” jake laughs a little at his own embarrassment and nerves, “that’s the whole reason why i’m so nervous… you’re you, and this is my one chance to show you how much i care about you.”
you watch as he opens the next dish, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, “jake,” you glance up, meeting his eyes as you nearly cry at the worried look in them, “i don’t remember the last time i even had these… thank you.”
“i remember you mentioned them sometime in sophomore year,” jake replies sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “holy shit, that makes me sound like such a creep.”
you shake your head, watching jake, “stop it, jake, seriously. i think it’s adorable that you remembered that from so long ago. it’s not weird or creepy!”
jake sees the sincerity in your gaze, letting out a breath of relief, “i… i really like you, seriously, i don’t want to mess up my one chance.”
you grab the sides of jake’s face and gently pull him towards you, capturing his lips in your own, hoping to wash away some of his worries with the action. you feel lighter as you kiss him, his plush, delicate lips feeling like heaven against your own. you missed kissing him, and kissing him now feels so… different. refreshingly so, knowing that the man you’re holding in your arms reciprocates your own feelings that you’ve pushed down and hid from the world for so long.
you pull away after a moment, resting your head against his, “you haven’t messed anything up, jake, okay?”
jake stares into your eyes, his emotions bubbling and growing beneath the surface, watching as he falls more in love with you the longer he watches your gorgeous irises stare back at him, ones that he wouldn’t mind getting lost in. “okay, y/n.” you seal your promise with another kiss, feeling him smile against your lips this time, knowing the man you’re sitting across from is the same one you fell for all those years ago. caring, kind, extremely driven, gorgeous, and above all, captivating in every way, his drive and need to succeed always pushing yourself to be the best version of yourself. and you know his drive to be the best has extended here, going above and beyond to impress you with a sentimental date, the concept of which makes you feel mushy inside.
time passes quickly, conversation and good food flowing between the two of you, giggles and stories being shared, feeling yourself fall further for him the longer you spent by his side. when the sky starts to darken with clouds and the threat of rain, you and jake pack quickly, rushing to the car when raindrops start to fall on your heads. jake drives you both back to campus, the ambience of the water falling on the hood of the car along with the low lull of the radio causing you to fall asleep. jake pulls into his usual parking spot outside his apartment building, picking you up in his arms and setting the picnic basket on your stomach, carrying you to his home, a small studio apartment on the second floor. after somehow unlocking the door without dropping you or waking you up, he sets the picnic basket on the counter before placing you in his bed, tucking you in under his freshly washed blanket. jake busies himself with putting leftovers away as you sleep before coming to join you, sneaking under the covers and spooning you.
jake places a small kiss against the back of your head, watching as your stomach rises and falls peacefully with each quiet breath you take. “sleep well, angel.”
Tumblr media
“i haven’t told the guys yet,” jake’s statement shocks you as the two of you walk into the frat hand in hand, a bustling party happening around you. you couldn’t believe after three successful dates and jake asking you to be his girlfriend, that he has kept that from his friends for all that time. “i wanted to tell them together, so they couldn’t bully me.” he jokes, leading you through the house, looking for his three best friends.
you find the three of them standing at the end of a hallway, near the room where you and jake first hooked up. you blush at the sight, glancing up at your boyfriend who gives you a quick wink. “what’s happening in your pretty little head, angel?”
“nothing,” you smack his arm, attempting to push him forwards to meet his friends, “let’s go talk to them before you or i do something crazy.”
“crazy doesn’t necessarily mean bad, though,” jake teases you before relenting, walking towards his friends who all smile at the sight of the two of you.
“i told you so,” heeseung grins the widest of all before jay and sunghoon’s faces drop suddenly, “pay up, jayhoon.”
“stop fucking calling us that,” sunghoon shoves his friend’s shoulder before fishing a $50 bill out of his wallet, jay doing the same but with a $100. “jay you should just be my sugar daddy at this point,” heeseung smirks as he tucks the bills into the inside pocket of his jacket.
sunghoon scoffs at heeseung’s words, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “heejay will never be a thing, so keep dreaming.” jay teases before looking at you and jake again, watching as you lean your head against his arm as you continue to hold his hand. “glad you came to your senses, jakey boy… i told you it’d work out, didn’t i, y/n?”
“you didn’t say anything remotely close to those words, jay,” you argue, to which he shrugs, “well, i was going to but then you started hitting me.”
“you were playing twenty questions with me while i was in a crisis!”
“we’re actually… i asked y/n to be my girlfriend last week,” jake scratches the back of his head, “so expect to see her around a lot more.”
“ha!” sunghoon smacks heeseung’s shoulder, “pay up!” he sticks his hands out to the other two men, who promptly give him $20 each.
you watch as the money is exchanged, “how much betting on us did you guys do?”
heeseung smirks at the two of you, “a lot. it’s been happening for longer than either of you will ever know.”
“nobody expected jake to actually man up and ask you to be his girlfriend officially this soon except hoon,” jake smacks heeseung and jay at this admission as you realize the trio has known of your semi secret dating the entire time, “what the hell, guys!”
“doesn’t matter, because it all worked out, didn’t it, lovebirds?” heeseung watches you two with a pleased look on his face, “and i knew it would happen, it just took a little while for jake to get his head out of his ass.”
“be nice,” you scold heeseung, “he didn’t know, don’t be mean, heeseung.”
heeseung relents, raising his hands in a defensive manner, “fine, fine.”
the five of you fall into a comfortable conversation, with jay cracking jokes and sunghoon laughing at all of them, heeseung watching them both with amusement in his gaze.
“can we go home? i’m kinda tired…” you ask jake after a while of conversing and enjoying yourself with the four men, staring up at him with two wide eyes that he realizes he’s never been able to say no to, and today will not be the day that he starts. little does he know the ulterior motive brewing in your stomach, wetness growing between your legs since you passed by the room where the two of you first slept together. “sure, pretty. let’s go.” the two of you bid your goodbyes to the trio, watching as they bicker about their betting habits as you head out.
the two of you drive back to jake’s apartment, which will soon be yours since your lease with wonyoung is coming up, and your soon to be former roommate and still current best friend has decided to take a semester abroad, getting into her dream program that she’s been talking about since the summer.
“are you really tired, baby?” a mischievous smile overtakes your features as you shake your head, leading jake to the bed and pushing him to sit on the edge of it. “oh, i see…” jake smiles, hands covering the expanse of your hips as you straddle to sit on his lap.
“want you to make love to me, jakey,” you plead, grinding your core down onto him.
“god, angel–” jake groans at the feeling of you pressing yourself against him, “fuck, you drive me crazy,” he pushes you down further onto his clothed member as you continue your motions, needing to feel more friction. “if i weren’t so hard right now i’d make you ride my thigh forever.”
you groan at his admission, movements faltering and he takes your moment of distraction to pick you up, placing you against the pillows. he pulls back for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head and you gawk at the sight of his toned stomach, only ever seeing it in glimpses during your previous escapades.
“mmm, i could just eat you up,” you tell him, running your fingernails up and down gently along his abs, “can’t believe you’ve hidden this under your shirts all this time…”
“you were itching to get a peek all these years, weren’t you, baby?” jake teases as he takes your shirt off next, tugging your bra off after and pinching a nipple between his fingers. you groan, back arching up as he sucks on the opposite one harshly. “j– jake–” you groan, hands threading into his hair and pulling lightly. he groans against your skin, loving the feeling of the pain rushing through his scalp. “oooh, you like that, pretty boy?” jake moans as you pull his mouth away from your nipple, eyes fluttering shut at the sting traveling through his scalp as you tug at his locks again.
“stop,” jake begs, “another time, baby, let me take care of you tonight.” he sighs in relief as you release your hold on his hair. “alright, sim, you’re free to go this time… but i’ll be saving that for later, baby boy.”
“god, you’re such a menace,” jake groans as his mind returns from the subspace he was slowly slipping into, sliding down the bed until he’s eye level with your core, seeing the wetness nearly escaping from your thin panties. he tugs your skirt off unceremoniously, “been wanting to eat you since the first night i had you, pretty,” jake bites at your panties and yanks them down with his teeth, the sight making you whimper at the pure sex appeal oozing from the man beneath you. jake leans in and dips his tongue between your folds. “fuck, knew you’d taste so sweet, angel.”
jake eats you out like a man starved, slobbering into your folds, pushing his tongue into your pussy, flicking his tongue inside of you. you moan loudly, hands gripping the sheets on the bed, a nearly pornographic sound escaping your lips as jake sucks harshly on your clit, stars appearing behind your eyelids.
“fuck, jake–” you glance down to see the man of your dreams perched between your legs, whimpering at the sight of him biting your inner thighs and gripping your legs tightly, holding them wide open for him to have full access. “you close, angel?” he smiles up at you, the vision of him with your wetness coating his mouth and chin pulling another noise from your parted lips. you nod quickly, “please, jake,” you plead, a request he responds to by continuing his assault on your already abused and leaking pussy, his tongue’s movements pulling a well deserved orgasm from your body, watching as your back arches up, pushing your core further into his mouth.
“jake!” you whine, fluid still gushing out, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure continues to pass over you in overwhelming waves. “‘s too much!”
“oh no it’s not, my sweet angel girl can take it,” jake argues before biting your clit.
“ahh!–” you scream, the sound bringing a smile to jake’s face, continuing to push you to overstimulation with his wet muscle’s motions against your pussy.
jake finally relents after you’re nearly in tears from the overwhelming sensations he’s putting your body through, bringing his face up to be level with yours, his clothed member pressing against your still dripping pussy, “you’re so pretty when you cry, baby.” he whispers with sincerity, capturing your lips in a quick, searing kiss before pulling away again to whisper, “i only ever want to see you cry because i’m making you feel good, okay?”
“okay, jake,” you whisper in response, smile tugging at the corner of your lips at your boyfriend’s insistence on treating you right until the end of time.
“no more crying unless it’s on my cock,” jake smirks, the words making you clench at your pure attraction and adoration for the man in front of you.
watching jake tug his pants down his legs makes you groan, staring down at the huge bulge pressing against his thin boxers. “stop teasing, jake,” you whine.
“baby can’t wait any longer?” you shake your head, watching as jake pulls his boxers off, the blushing, leaking tip of his cock making your mouth water. “ahh, what an eager girl. if you weren’t dripping onto my sheets right now i’d make you suck my cock. but i’ll be nice and give my baby what she needs.” jake rambles on as you can do nothing but stare at his length, drooling at the sight of it, knowing the stretch it gives you is always delicious, never fully adjusting to his generous size even after all the times you’ve been together.
jake breaches your entrance, letting just the tip sit inside your hole. you wiggle, trying to force him further inside, “patience, baby,” he scolds and you whimper at his strict tone coming out. “don’t want me to punish you, do you?” you shake your head. you know you could take a punishment, but right now you just want jake to hold you close as he makes love to you.
jake slowly slides in further, watching with hungry eyes as your hole takes him easily, “fuck, baby, i’m gonna keep you stuffed, my sexy ass girlfriend deserves to be filled up all hours of the day,” he babbles as he buries himself to the hilt, the snug fit of your walls filling his brain with even more delicious, dirty thoughts.
“mm– feel so full,” you mutter, watching jake’s face with adoration and love in your eyes, “thank you, jakey,” you whimper as he slides nearly all the way out, allowing just the tip to stay inside before pushing back in slowly, groaning at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him right back in without protest, “god, this tiny pussy was made just for my cock.” you nod in response, seeing jake watching your face now before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing himself as close to you as he possibly can as he presses his face into your neck, sucking and biting at the junction between your throat and shoulder. jake tries desperately to leave marks, wanting to see them on your gorgeous skin when he wakes up next to you the following morning; little does he know you’ll wake him up with his cock in your mouth, mumbling around the dick that pushes an ache to your jaw about how you just wanted to help as you saw him sleeping with a tent in his boxers.
“need you closer,” you plead as jake rocks slowly in and out of you, love penetrating each thrust as he buries himself as deep as possible inside your pretty hole, the sensations pushing jake to the edge, the rubber band in his stomach begging to snap. “ugh–” you groan against jake’s lips as he captures them in a kiss, slow and sloppy but so full of want and need and unspoken pleas of never leave my side.
jake pulls away from the kiss, continuing to push into you with slow movements, wanting to feel every inch of your walls with each drag of his cock, holding his impending orgasm back behind gritted teeth, “tell me what you need, baby, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”
“just need you,” you plead, eyes watering from the overwhelming presence of jake bearing his body to you, his mind and soul on display as he shows you how much he needs you with each loving action. “just need you,” you repeat, mind slipping away as he continues his movements, hips never tiring as he chases what he knows you need. jake removes one arm from your neck to snake down to your core, rubbing between your folds to gather up your own wetness before rubbing against your clit in the pattern he knows you love.
“fuck– jakey–” you groan, burying your head into the crook of his neck as he stares down at where the two of you meet, mind never getting tired of the visual of you taking him all inside, his length sliding in and out with ease. jake begins to fuck into you faster, nearly rutting against you as he chases the orgasm he knows is brewing in your gut. “come on, my angel girl, make a mess on me,” his words in your ears as you pull away from his neck to look at him. you nearly cry seeing jake meet your gaze; his delicate brown eyes meeting your own, need swimming in his gaze, “fuck!–” you gasp, beginning to babble words that don’t register in your mind as your high washes over you. jake watches your eyes fluttering shut, finally allowing himself to cum with you, pushing as deep as he can. jake watches as your breathing returns to normal, glancing down at the white ring surrounding his length, some of your cum mixture escaping and spilling everywhere. “god, baby, look at you. my perfect angel.” he traces his thumb along your cheek, watching a smile overtake your lips, knowing you’re utterly spent after only two orgasms. the day’s festivities have taken a toll on you, and he can see the tiredness in your eyes as they watch him with adoration.
you smile, “you don’t even know how happy you make me.”
jake cleans both of you off diligently, promising to throw the bedding in the wash tomorrow, knowing the cum would stain if you left it any longer. “i love you,” he breathes out, watching your face for a reaction at his sudden admission. you nearly cry as the words reach your ears, an overwhelming sensation in your gut. “you do?” you whimper, eyesight feeling blurring from the tears accumulating along your lashline. “i do, baby.”
“i love you, too, jakey.” he wraps you in a hug, neither of you caring that you’re both still naked, just needing to feel his hands holding you close to him. your voice is shaky and quiet as he holds you impossibly close, “i love you so much, you don’t even know.”
jake pulls back, holding your shoulders and placing kisses all over your face, on any spot he can reach, “you don’t know how happy i am to hear that, angel. you’ve made my life so much better.”
“now you have a built in study partner for life,” you tease, smiling at his continued onslaught of gentle kisses across your cheeks and nose, on your eyelids and on the corner of your mouth. “for life, huh?” jake teases, watching as your cheeks burn red at the realization of what you’ve said.
“don’t worry, pretty. now that i have you, i’m never letting you go.”
2K notes · View notes
nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago
Text
slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
“Oh, there is no way.”
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 
“What? Is it—”
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 
“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”
Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 
“Oh my god! You guys too?”
“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 
“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 
“What about Morgan and Garcia?”
Spencer snorts.
“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”
“Hotch and Rossi?”
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”
“Can we please not try to picture it?”
“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 
“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 
“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”
“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 
“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”
“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 
“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 
“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 
“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 
“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”
“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”
“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”
“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 
“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 
“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”
“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 
“Obviously nobody has told me that.”
“It means y—”
“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”
“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 
“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”
“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 
“We’re not?”
“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 
“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”
“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 
“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”
“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 
Spencer doesn’t respond. 
It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks. 
You do it again. 
Another squeak. 
A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 
“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 
“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 
“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”
“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”
You’re only sort of kidding. 
“I… fascinate you?”
“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”
“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”
“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”
“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 
“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”
“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 
“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”
With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.
“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 
“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 
“You’d be surprised.” 
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 
“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 
But you don’t bring those up. 
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 
“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”
“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 
“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”
“Family annihilator from Houston?” 
“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”
“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”
“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”
“So he’s in your bag.”
“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”
“You are genuinely psychotic.”
You huff.
“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”
You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 
“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 
“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
3K notes · View notes
jenoslutie · 2 months ago
Text
that's that me, espresso l y.jh
Tumblr media
❥ Synopsis: Jeonghan fucks you hard, Jeonghan fucks you good. You both know that much, so why do you refuse to give him the time of day outside of bed?
❥ Genre: Smut, Desperate Jeonghan, Reader is closed off, one sided pining (until it's mutual), Fuckgirl!reader, Formula One drivers!Seventeen, Reader is a life guard (so is Joshua!) theres also like angst if u really squint.
❥ Warnings: *takes a deep breath* unprotected sex, degradation, praise, choking, implied face slapping, multiple sex scenes (like 3), creampies (ew i hate that word!!!), exhibitionism, jeonghan is a little mean during sex but its okay, jeonghan fucks her while seungcheol listens in but she does not know, fingering, oral, face fucking, car sex, jeonghan cums in her and makes her keep it inside while they play beach volleyball, reader likes to send videos of her sleeping with other people (cheol and josh) to jeonghan to mess with him. i think thats it.
❥ Word count: 8.6k
a/n: so im finally done this LMAOO. huge. huge. HUGE!!!! thank u to everyone who helped me with this fic @hanniesluvr my lovely aera my fellow jeonghan freak my WIFE!!! for keeping me motivated through this and matching my freak, @haologram for the banner and basically ghost writing this (if u like the whole f1 driver thing, thank alta :D) and @dearlyjun for using her big huge sexy brain and f1 knowledge and helping a girl out ANDD!!!! @jihyokat for beta reading i love u all MWAH <3 ANYWAYS!!! here she is <3 hope u enjoy :D
Tumblr media
“You’re already leaving?” Jeonghan called out from behind you, watching as you redressed yourself. Jeonghan knew you never stayed. Well, you never stayed with him at least. 
You let out a laugh, ”You know I'm not staying” Jeonghan let out a groan at that, annoyed that he’s seen you stay the night with other hookups but not him. Why not Jeonghan? He was hot, he fucked good, he fucked hard (the way you like it), he fit all of the requirements that made him a good fuck buddy. So why did you refuse to spend the night with him every time you hooked up?
The answer was simple, you didn’t want to stick around when you know they’re gonna catch feelings. You know Jeonghan is going to get attached too easily if you keep staying. But there’s something about him that’s just too good to let go.
The first time you and Jeonghan had sex, it wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced before. Jeonghan was different. He single-handedly fulfilled all of your depraved fantasies on your first night together. You never thought that someone like Jeonghan would be so…nasty in bed but the second you followed him back to his car you were in for a surprise to say the least. 
For someone who looked like an angel, he sure didn’t act like one in bed. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You were invited to the party Jeonghan threw to celebrate his win in Las Vegas. Your best friend and second place winner tonight, Mingyu, drove you to the venue with him. You could hear the music booming before you even got to the entrance of the nightclub. It was huge and the only other person you knew at this party was Seungkwan, Mingyu’s teammate. 
The moment you were let into the club your eyes landed on Boo Seungkwan, the other man you were expecting to see tonight. His eyes locked with yours and immediately they lit up. He was conversing with Yoon Jeonghan, the man of the night and no matter how many times you’ve seen the man on TV, it’s nothing compared to the real deal. Jeonghan was nothing short of ethereal. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was an angel on earth, not one of the top racers on the whole grid. 
“Y/n!” Seungkwan shouted over the crowd, your smiles mirroring each other as Mingyu led you through the ocean of bodies. “You look fucking stunning tonight dude” He left the group he was talking with to pull you away from Mingyu. You were aware of how good you looked tonight. You chose not to drive to the party tonight in plans of going home with someone at the party and you knew that you had to dress to impress. With your little black dress and matching stiletto pumps, you were sure you’d get someone to either A) buy you a drink or B) take you back to theirs. 
…Hopefully both? 
“Thanks Kwannie! I thought maybe I’d dress to impress tonight” Seungkwan snickered at that, “Why? got any plans tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows, looking over your shoulder at Mingyu, implying you’d be going back to his place after this. Typical Seungkwan, he was always so determined to someday expose that you and Mingyu were secretly hooking up on the down low but that day won’t be soon. 
“Fuck no! You know damn well i would never fuck Mingyu of all people” Lies. You and Mingyu did hook up once and never again. Not that it was bad but because on your way out that day you met the one and only Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan’s teammate at Ferrari. You and Seungcheol have been hooking up on the down low since. You wrapped up the conversation with Seungkwan and made your way around the club, searching for Mingyu. 
“Hey!” A tap on your shoulder caught your attention, You turned around and there was the man of the night, Yoon Jeonghan, you watched him give you a once over before meeting your eyes. “Hi! Jeonghan, right?” You were quick to introduce yourself, maintaining eye contact as best as you could. It wasn’t easy when his big brown eyes were looking deep into your own and to make it worse, his pretty face was glowing, the aftermath of a huge victory on the track today. 
“Are you looking for your boyfriend?” Jeonghan frowned, eyes searching around looking for whoever he supposed was your boyfriend. 
“Boyfriend?” You snickered, “Who’s my boyfriend dare I ask” 
“Mingyu, no?” 
You burst into laughter, hand resting on his shoulder for reassurance. “Mingyu is not my boyfriend, we’re just friends. And yes, I was looking for him” 
Jeonghan sighed in relief. “Thank God, Mind if I buy you a drink?” 
BINGO! 
Jeonghan led the way to the bar where he bought you your drink of choice, a Vodka Tonic. You were sitting on a bar stool with your back to the bar while Jeonghan stood in front of you, looking down at you and taking in your figure.  “You look amazing tonight by the way” He smiled at you as he watched you take a sip of your drink, smiling creeping onto your face at both the taste of your drink and the compliment. 
“Thank you, I put it on in hopes to go home with someone tonight” You gazed up at him expectantly.  
“Oh? Is that so?” Jeonghan smirked, stepping forward to situate himself between your legs, leaning his head down enough to where his lips were hovering over yours. 
“Wanna take me home?” You smiled with faux innocence, downing your drink before Jeonghan pulled you up and off your seat and out of the club. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
The drive back to his hotel was exhilarating, Jeonghan feeling up your bare thighs while he drove while you leaned over the center console and pressed kisses all over his neck earning you halfhearted warnings. He knows you shouldn't be distracting him like that but he also knows he does not want you to stop, your lips on his neck almost making him lose focus of the road. 
Before you knew it, the two of you were back at his hotel room with his lips against yours in a desperate kiss while you were pressed up against the wall. Jeonghan’s hands wandered all over your body, feeling up every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. 
“Get me naked Jeonghan,” You let out a sound that was something even more desperate than a whine, but Jeonghan ignored your plea, continuing to attack your lips with his own, enjoying your pretty sounds as you got even more desperate for him to do something. 
“On your knees” Jeonghan ordered. A sudden shift in the atmosphere made you freeze. Jeonghan’s voice dropped an octave as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “I’m not going to repeat myself” You instantly dropped to your knees and looked up at him, locking eyes with his own. 
“I’m going to use your throat like a fucking fleshlight. Okay?” Your body buzzed with excitement as you heard that, sure you’ve sucked cock before but never has anyone ever done anything like that. “Squeeze my thigh if you want me to stop” You only nodded enthusiastically and within an instant, he was ridding himself of his pants along with his boxers before he was pressing his hard cock against your open mouth. You eagerly sucked the tip of Jeonghan’s cock into your mouth, and began to tease the slit on the tip of his cock with your tongue. As you sucked his cock into your mouth, you could feel the wetness seeping out of your pussy. You did your best to ignore the urge to just have his cock in you. 
Jeonghan roughly pushed you all the way down on his cock making you gag immediately but you were quick to remind yourself to breathe through your nose. Jeonghan was pulling you up on his cock and slamming you back down with no relent. True to his word, he began to use you as if you were nothing but a toy, placing his hands on the sides of your face to get a better grip. His noises filled the room, tumbling out of his mouth in a way that only made you leak more on the floor of the hotel room. His one hand maneuvered to your hair, gripping tight as he began fucking into your mouth with even more force. In no time he was cumming down your throat, pushing your head all the way down his cock until his whole cock hit the back of your throat. 
“Get on the bed,” You obliged wordlessly, submitting to Jeonghan and whatever he wants of you. Making yourself comfortable on the bed, you gazed up at Jeonghan, watching as he stared down at you almost as if to mock the way you submit to him so easily. 
“Jeonghan-” Before you could finish Jeonghan delivered a light slap to your face. Muttering a small but stern ‘shut up’ 
"You speak when spoken to," he grits, glaring at you with dark eyes. He presses down on your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, you wince out in pain. “I’m gonna give you your safeword okay?” He didn’t really give you much room to agree before he assigned you a safeword, something easy for both of you to remember. You repeated it back to him to which Jeonghan smiled at your obedience. 
“Use it if you need to, okay? I won’t be upset if you do” Only after you nodded in understanding did Jeonghan inch closer to you to rid you of the rest of your clothes. He grinned when he caught a glimpse of your soaked pussy. “So wet already? Just from me fucking your face?” The question was rhetorical the way Jeonghan dropped to his knees, wasting no more time to dig his face between your legs. Dragging his lips between your slit, sucking your arousal onto his tongue. 
Tugging his shirt off, he fixes himself back between your legs. Letting out groans against your core, prompting you to moan out yourself. He presses a last kiss to your clit before pulling away.  He sits on the edge of your bed. “Sit that pretty pussy on my cock, slut.”  And again, you had no will in you to deny anything the man asks of you. Immediately making your way over and straddling his thighs. You take a deep breath before reaching down to guide him in. Feeling your stomach twist as the stretch slowly splits you open. Your eyes shut as you cry out at his thick cock stretching you open. “Why the fuck are you so tight. Holy shit” Jeonghan winces, his own eyes slamming shut at the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him in. 
“You’re too big—“ you whine, your head falling down to rest on his shoulder as you slowly begin to move up and down on his cock. But it didn’t go far before Jeonghan was wrapping his hands around your hips and taking over your movements with faster and harder ones of his own. 
You let out a string of moans at his intense pace making him chuckle. “Fucking slut. you like that dont you?” he gave a hard thrust, bottoming out inside your cunt. “Like getting fucked like this by a guy you just met, hmm?” You moaned out choruses of ‘yes’ as Jeonghan began rutting up into you. Moving a hand down to rub at your clit, your body jerked as you felt your high incoming. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Jeonghan” Your voice came out in a high pitched whine as you rubbed your clit harder, body shaking as Jeonghan fucked you harder to help guide you to the edge. Your eyes roll back as your high hits you and Jeonghan helps you ride it out, not forgetting to kiss you through it too. The two of you with no care in the world for who can hear you. As the high of your orgasm dissipates, he flips you onto your back. He’s close too, you can tell by the way his cock is throbbing inside you and his thrusts turn erratic. 
“Cum inside Jeonghan.” You all but begged, Jeonghan moaning out before he also toppled over the edge. Cock throbbing erratically inside you as he emptied ropes of cum inside you. The two of you took a minute to calm your racing hearts before Jeonghan pulled out and flopped down on the bed next to you. 
“Holy shit” He huffed, looking over at your smiling face. “Please tell me you’ll give me your number” He was still out of breath and it only made you chuckle, rolling off the bed to pick up your purse from where he he face fucked you moments ago. Fishing out your phone, you unlocked it before handing it to Jeonghan who was nearly knocked out on the bed for him to put his number in and text himself. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
Since the day you two hooked up at Jeonghan’s party, you’d started seeing each other more often. It’s not like you only seeked Jeonghan for your dick appointments. In reality Jeonghan was the one constantly calling and texting for when he can see you again. You won’t say that you minded it though. Sex with Jeonghan is an out of the world experience. Him making you feel highs you have never felt before with any other partner or yourself. 
As for Jeonghan? Jeonghan felt nothing short of smitten. Getting into his bed with anyone other than you made the most uncomfortable feeling arise within him and it had been practically days since he last saw you so he had to hit you up. 
jeonghan: i miss youuuuuuu  jeonghan: hi  jeonghan: cmon respondddddddd jeonghan: alright.. what position he got you in???  
you: [attachment: 1 video] 
You knew Jeonghan didn't expect you to actually send him a video of what position your last hookup had you in, you watched the video back and you couldn't help but get a little ego boost while watching yourself getting fucked by one of your coworkers, Joshua. He had you on all fours, hand gripping onto your waist as he fucked you.
Another thing you couldnt help is noticing how Joshua was not fucking you half as good as Jeonghan does. There's no bruises on your hips, there's no hair pulling, and the worst of all, there's no degradation. One thing about Jeonghan, for someone with such an angelic face, he has the nastiest mouth. It’s not something you're complaining about though, you would never complain about the way Jeonghan treats you in bed.
It wasn’t like Jeonghan was the only guy you could pull, never that. Jeonghan just happened to be one of the best guys you’ve ever slept with. Which might even be the only reason you keep going back to him. Something about the way he treats you just has you always craving more of him- not that you’d ever admit that to him but it was true. Jeonghan might call you all sorts of names in bed, treat you like some common whore, but right after he’ll always clean you up, attempt to hold you close, give you all the reassurance you need for you to know he doesn’t actually think you’re a common whore (not that it matters). 
jeonghan: what the fuck man… jeonghan: i’m about to have the saddest wank of my life  jeonghan: ^^^woah idk who said that jeonghan: might be the demons idk
you: have fun jeonghan <3
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
you: hey, you wanna come play beach volleyball tmrw @3? 
seungcheol: hmm seungcheol: i dont think i can make it, seokmin wants to hang. 
you: boo you whore. 
[seungcheol disliked “boo you whore.”] 
If there's one thing you hate, it would be your job. Sitting in the sun for hours on end and staring at people who were obviously having a lot more fun than you were. You thought you could invite Seungcheol so you could play beach volleyball but apparently the universe didn’t want you to enjoy your shift. But that’s when it hit you, you could just invite Jeonghan. Surely he wouldn’t let you down. 
you: hey r u free tmrw? 
His reply was almost instant. 
jeonghan: yea, why?
you: wanna play beach volleyball at the beach i work at? 
you: i'm thinking around 3pm
jeonghan: i'm down, which beach is it? 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You saw Jeonghan’s car pull up to the beach almost thirty minutes before your shift was supposed to start, giving you thirty minutes to spare before the rest of your coworkers piled in to start their shifts. 
“Hey, Beautiful” Jeonghan called out as he got out of his car, leaning back against it as you approached him. “Hi Handsome,” You smiled back as you watched him give you a once over, looking at you in your work uniform, a simple red bikini with the word ‘LIFEGUARD’ printed on it in white. Jeonghan leaned down so that he could whisper in your ear, “Do you think I can make you cum before your shift?” You nodded, not trusting your voice to do the talking, knowing you’d accidentally moan or whimper out loud. 
“Get in the car then” 
You didn't need to be told twice, immediately you hopped in the backseat of Jeonghan’s car and he followed suit. There wasn't much time for foreplay so he leans in, connecting your lips eagerly. As if he’s been craving this for years and is finally being satiated. The limited space doesn’t offer much room to maneuver but Jeonghan shifts in between your legs enough to grind his clothed cock against your barely clothed core. The whole situation arousing you beyond belief, about to fuck Jeonghan in the back of his car, parked someplace where anyone could see what was happening inside. You could feel your arousal seeping out of your pussy and staining the seat of your bikini. Moaning out into the kiss you pushed your hips into his own, urging him to do something. 
“Jeonghan do something” You urge him in a hushed whisper, barely able to get the words out with the way Jeonghan was grinding into you so deliciously. Jeonghan merely hummed in response, halting his movements to slide down his swim shorts and free his aching cock. 
“You realize how much of a slut you are for this hm? Letting me have you like this where anyone can see you, hear you, find out how much of a slut you are for me.” Jeonghan’s gaze was dark, almost mocking you. You let out some sort of groan at his words. A chill running down your spine at the thought of what Jeonghan is gonna do to you. Flashbacks of the first night you spent with him running through your head. Jeonghan was so rough in a way that no one else had ever been with you and you couldn't help but admit that you loved every second of it. Being too absorbed in your thoughts, you couldn’t respond back to jeonghan which earned you a slap across your face. Your cheek stinging at the contact but nonetheless making you clench around nothing. The feeling of your damp swimsuit sticking to your core making you wiggle your hips in discomfort. 
“Pay attention to me slut” Jeonghan seethed, wrapping a hand around your throat and putting just enough pressure to have your eyes fluttering shut. “Beg for it if you want it” Another slap to your face, this time it was harder than before. Your eyes tearing up a little before you squeaked out a little ‘please’  Another slap. 
“You can do better” 
“Please fuck me Jeonghan” You pleaded, a tear running down your cheek at the hit. 
“Try again” His voice was softer this time, rubbing his free hand over the spot he just slapped. 
“Jeonghan please” you whined. “ Want everyone to hear how good you fuck me please” You begged harder this time, hoping this would be enough for Jeonghan and boy were you right. He pushes the seat of your bikini to the side before repositioning himself and pushing his length into you, moaning in delight as your walls stretch to accommodate his size. You cry out in pleasure, the feeling of finally having Jeonghan in you making more tears roll down your cheeks. He doesn’t take it easy though, keeping a steady, rough rhythm from the start. Pounding you into his backseat while watching you lose yourself in the feeling of him ramming into you. “You love it huh? Tell me how much you love it” You didn’t have it in you to deny it, fully aware of the way you literally begged him for it moments ago. 
“I fucking love it Jeonghan”  You gasp, his hand reaching down to rub at your clit in harsh circles. 
“Does anyone fuck you like i do?” He grunts, rocking his hips into yours harder, as if it was even possible with the way he was fucking you so hard you were positive anyone passing by could see the car visibly shaking. 
You shook your head immediately, “No one fucks me like you do” You confirm. Jeonghan hummed, your answer satisfying him enough that he tightened his hand around your neck once again and rubbing your clit with the other hand. The head of his cock fucks into your most sensitive spot and you feel all the thoughts in your head slowly disintegrate. Head full of only Jeonghan. You urgently reached out to grab onto something to steady something, quickly opting for his hand that was wrapped around your neck. You gripped his forearm with both hands, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your vision goes unfocused as your orgasm hits, letting out weak moans and gasps as the feeling consumes you entirely. Feeling it course through your whole body all the way down to your toes. Your walls constrict around Jeonghan the whole time, urging his own orgasm to hit him fast. 
“Gonna cum” Jeonghan warns. His thrusts turn erratic as he lets out a string of guttural groans. 
“Inside” You plead, “Need you to fill me up again please Jeonghan” Jeonghan moans loudly at that, your begging pushing him all the way over the edge. His eyes shut tightly and he groans out loudly. His body tensing up as he fills you up entirely. 
“Gonna be a good girl and keep that inside you yeah? All your little friends oblivious of the way you just begged me to slut you out” Heat rushed to your cheeks at the way Jeonghan was humiliating you but you agreed either way. Jeonghan’s eyes lit up when you nodded your head with a small smile. He took time to calm down before he slipped out of you wordlessly, ignoring the way you whine at the feeling of emptiness and fixing your bikini bottoms to cover you up again. 
After fixing himself up he spoke up again, “Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked, rather shyly, his demeanor a stark contrast to the Jeonghan that was pouding you into his backseat moments ago. You chuckled at his sheepishness. “Yes Jeonghan you can kiss me” Your voice was small but he didn’t hesitate to press his lips onto yours once again, this time the kiss was much softer than before. His hands cupping your cheeks as he used his thumbs to wipe your tears. 
You pulled away first. “Let’s get going? I think I’m already late” 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
“Why the fuck is he here?” Jeonghan muttered from beside you, watching as his teammate, Seungcheol approached your group. Ever the show off, Seungcheol was wearing only a pair of black swim shorts, showing off his toned body for everyone at the beach to see. 
You turned to where Jeonghan was looking and lo and behold, there was Choi Seungcheol. You and Seungcheol had….history. Well, not really history but you two have been fucking for a couple months and you were fully aware that he is Jeonghan’s teammate and its not like you were picking out the Ferrari drivers in specific to sleep with. The two of them were the ones who came onto you first. 
“Seungcheol?” You gasped, not expecting him to show up after rudely (not really) canceling on you. You felt Jeonghan’s arm tentatively wrap around your waist as Seungcheol approached. 
“Hey baby!” Seungcheol grinned, completely ignoring Jeonghan on your side, with his arm obviously wrapped around your waist. You heard Jeonghan mutter a small ‘baby??’ under his breath while continuing to faux nonchalance. 
“Hi Cheol! I thought you were gonna hang with Seokmin today?” 
“Well, I was, but Seokmin had to meet with Chan today” He shrugged, smiling wider showing off his stunning smile that initially captivated you. 
“Oh! Cheol, this is Jeonghan” You were quick to detangle yourself from Jeonghan’s arms, standing awkwardly in between the two men who were finally forced to make eye contact (thanks to you) 
“This is the new guy you fuck? Really? Had to be my teammate?” Seungcheol scoffed, losing the smile once adorning his face. 
“ Uh yeah, Hannie, this is Seungcheol.” 
“The other guy you fuck.” 
“Well, yes.” 
Jeonghan wasn’t too phased at first, especially considering it was Jeonghan’s cum currently inside you and not Seungcheol’s. Jeonghan sighed before speaking out once again, 
“Okay...let’s play ball?” 
“Let’s play.” And the three of you set out to join the rest of the group where they played volleyball. 
Jeonghan teamed with three of your three coworkers, Soonyoung, Yuta and Xiaojun. While Seungcheol teamed with your other coworkers, Vernon, Jaehyun and Joshua (yes, the same Joshua). You self appointed yourself as the referee for the round because you obviously didn’t want Jeonghan’s cum splattering out of you while you played.
That would not be ideal in front of your coworkers. 
As the round started, you noticed that Seungcheol in particular was putting a little too much effort into this, as if he had something to prove. Which you weren’t wrong, he did. He wanted to prove he was way better than Jeonghan at this (among other things.) but Jeonghan was hitting the ball back with little to no effort. 
You watched, amused as the two men on the court played as if no one else was around, as if it was a battle and they had to get past each other to make it to the final round. You think it might 
You were right, Seungcheol did have something to prove. He wanted to prove that he was the better one out of the two of them, as if it wasn’t Jeonghan’s cum currently in you. 
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a LOUD shriek. Only to see that Xiaojun was on the floor, holding his head in his hands while he cried out pathetically. 
“Xiaojun what happened!?” You ran towards the man on the floor.
“Seungcheol spiked the ball and it hit Xiaojun’s head” Soonyoung explained hurriedly, jumping in to do a poor attempt of CPR on him (though he’s a lifeguard. You’re not too sure how he got hired in the first place). 
“Get off me!” Xiaojun screamed when Soonyoung leaned in to give him mouth-to-mouth. 
“I got hit in the head I don’t need CPR idiot”
You did notice though, Seungcheol and Jeonghan were still playing amongst each other, not a clue in the world that they just took Xiaojun out and everyone was crowding around him. Well not anymore, Xiaojun was up and crowded away with Yuta and Soonyoung. You’d assume he was talking mad shit about the man who hit him in the head and didn’t even care to check on him. 
Typical Xiaojun. 
Also typical Seungcheol. 
As the round progressed, Xiaojun and Soonyoung dipped first, going off to get back to their jobs, then Yuta and Jaehyun also went on to do their own things and take care of their shift duties until finally Joshua and Vernon were about to head out too. 
“Dude, what the hell is their problem?” Joshua murmured, rolling his eyes at the two men still actively playing ball without noticing the absence of the others. 
You shrugged, “They’re both teammates and mad that I’m fucking them both. They both have something to prove to the other” You leaned in closer to whisper to Joshua.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
jeonghan: hi y/n :) you: hi jeonghan :) 
jeonghan: i wanna see you :( 
you: aw really? 
you: my jeonghannie wants to see me o.O
jeonghan: yes :(  jeonghan: please? 
You snickered as you hit send on the video. A video of you while you were on your knees for a man whose face was not in the frame. With your lips wrapped around his cock - though unable to fully wrap around him. While you hollow your cheeks, lowering further down. The man grips your hair, holding your head still as you gag around his cock. 
“You’re such a good girl, taking me like a champ, princess.” He praises you. Hips bucking forward letting out raspy groans. 
That’s when he sees it. 
What was it? It was a silver ring with the word ‘Ferrari’ engraved on it adorning the man’s pinky finger, identical to the one on his own. 
The same ring that only two people would have. Him and his fuckass teammate.  
You fucking sent him a video of you sucking off Seungcheol.  
jeonghan: is that who i fucking think it is?? jeonghan: be so fucking fr. 
jeonghan: i'm coming over. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
“Please give it to me, fuck, Jeonghan,” you stuttered, breaking away from the kiss to whine against his lips. He spent much too long rubbing his tip along your slit and you could not stand it anymore, you needed him in you immediately. 
 “Why don’t you ask Seungcheol hm? I’m sure he’d give you what you want more than I will”  His tone was taunting, he was obviously still bitter about the stunt you pulled earlier.  Not that it bothered you though, it just made the sex even more exhilarating. To know that Jeonghan is actually bothered by the video made you feel sort of giddy. 
You whined when he sunk barely just the tip inside of you before pulling it out again. Your  grip in his hair tightening as you felt the need to have him buried deep in you grow more and more. “Wanna cum on your cock. I wanna feel it inside me so badly. Please. Please give it to me.” You whined more, hoping Jeonghan would give in and he did, pushing into you ever so slowly but he made up for it by pressing his lips onto yours again. 
“You know I’m not going easy on you tonight, right?” Your lover of the night bottomed out in you, smiling at the way he could see you going dumb on his cock and he hasn't even done anything yet. 
“God, I’d hope not”
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You haven't seen Jeonghan or Seungcheol in two weeks. 
Seungcheol has been AWOL but Jeonghan has been texting you nonstop. It was nothing sexual like the first few times he texted you. It was wholesome? Texts full of Jeonghan checking up on you, asking about you, wondering if you had eaten etc. 
This time however, Jeonghan texted you something different? 
An article. 
F1 - Ferrari sealed 1-2 in Silverstone ahead of Kim Mingyu. 
you: what the fuck is a 1-2 and why did ur team seal it 
jeonghan: i won p1 and seungcheol won p2 jeonghan: party tomorrow  jeonghan: ill end the deets. i better see you there
you: wtf?? thats AMAZING jeonghan congrats <33333  you: yeah, send the details ill be there :)  you: see you tomorrow!
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You weren’t used to seeing Jeonghan and Seungcheol in the same setting, not after that hell of a volleyball game. And apparently you won't see them together this time around either because you’ve been at this party for half an hour and have seen every other driver on the grid except the two men you actually wanted to see.  You decided you’d just sit at the bar and sip on yet another vodka tonic. You watched the rest of the partygoers drink away and dance together while you sat here miserably waiting to find any of your two fuck buddies. 
Until you were pulled from your misery by none other than Seungcheol. 
“And why do you look so miserable?” He asked, taking a seat next to you. Your face lit up at his voice, “Cheol!” You grinned for the first time since you got here. 
“I’ve been by myself all night, Jeonghan invited me but i haven't seen him anywhere” You shrugged. Seungcheol watched as you downed the rest of your drink before he led you away from the main party area, pulling you into a dim corner. 
“You know, I’ve been dreaming about your lips on mine since the last time you came over” Your lips curled into a smirk at that, “Yeah? Are you gonna do anything about it?” 
Oh, he was. 
Seungcheol angles his head to perfectly lower his lips onto yours. Like any kiss with Cheol, it has you dazed and yearning for more, your fingers gripping at his shirt to pull him as close to you as possible.
You both part for air momentarily,looking into eachothers eyes with equally dazed stares. your heart racing from the thrill of making out with him where anyone could catch the two of you, not that you mind, but you’re sure Seungcheol’s career might. Though the thought doesn't last long until Seungcheol searches for your lips again, pressing his mouth hard against yours with not a care in the world as to who may see you. 
Except the only person who saw you was none other than Yoon Jeonghan. 
There was no word to describe how upset Jeonghan felt at that moment. You came to a party he invited you to, celebrating mainly him, where he spent an hour looking for you and youre making out with his fuckass TEAMMATE?
There were only two people that could save Jeonghan now. 
Mingyu and Seungkwan.
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
After he had to witness you and his teammate down each other’s throats the other day. Jeonghan is on a mission to win you over. There is no way he’ll let Seungcheol of all people get his girl. 
Seungcheol wasn’t even looking to settle, Jeonghan was.
According to your two closest friends, Mingyu and Seungkwan, there were 3 things that Jeonghan could do that would win you over. Which happened to do with the 3 things you loved the most. 
Music, Food, Sports.  
…Well, that was the only input they gave him. He just had to figure the rest of it out himself. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
First thing: Music.
That was quite…simple? All he had to do was show you his fire music taste! 
So the next time he picked you up he’d just blast his tunes in the car and that’d be sure to have you swooning. 
Jeonghan rang your doorbell at 7:00pm on the dot. He seemed to have this whole evening planned out and you knew nothing except a text the day before asking if you were free at 7 today and it went on from there. He did specify to dress casual so you wore just a pair of shorts and a black tank top. 
“Hey” You smiled wide, opening the door to see an equally casually dressed Jeonghan. 
“Hey, you look cute.” You grinned at the compliment, gesturing inside for Jeonghan to come in but instead he just shook his head. 
“Let’s go, I’ve got plans for us” 
Jeonghan spent a good ten minutes trying to connect his bluetooth to his car, assuring you that you’d love the songs he’s picked out for tonight only to play the most ratchet music you think you’ve ever heard. 
“What the hell is this Jeonghan?” You grimaced, appalled by his choice of music 
“It’s Mozart!” 
“How the fuck does that make it better?” 
Jeonghan only sighed and handed you his phone with his music app opened. 
“Play whatever you want” 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
Second thing: Food
Jeonghan’s attempt to be…romantic? Was not as successful as you think he’d hoped. His plan was to cook together while sipping wine and have a cute little night. 
Cooking with someone was not something you enjoyed. 
Jeonghan was on vegetable duty while you were on sauce duty. Though time with Jeonghan was enjoyable, what you did not enjoy was him repeatedly coming in your way while you maneuvered around the kitchen. 
“Jeonghan, MOVE” Your frustration reached its max when Jeonghan was hunched over, eyes watery from the onions he was cutting but he was hunched right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving you with no space to pass. 
“I CAN’T SEE” He screeched, finding his way over to the sink in an attempt to rinse out his eye. 
God, he’s such a dork. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
The last part of Jeonghan’s plan was to woo you with Sports. 
There was no better sport to enjoy with you other than his own! He’ll just invite you to the race this week! 
jeonghan: hey jeonghan: you wanna come to the race this weekend? Its in hungary its gonna run friday-sunday but we arrive on thursday  jeonghan: tix on me :) 
you: wtf?? of COURSE i want to go :O 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
And just like that, you found yourself in a hotel in Hungary on a random Thursday morning. Well, it wasn’t random, you were invited to the Hungarian Grand Prix by none other than Yoon Jeonghan himself. 
Speaking of, Jeonghan had asked if you wanted to go explore the village with him on your off day and who were you to deny an offer like that? So here you were, rushing your makeup at 9 in the morning. Jeonghan was supposed to come to your room at about 9:30 so you have less than thirty minutes to be ready and out the door. 
Jeonghan showed up at your hotel room at 9:30 on the dot, wearing a variant of an outfit youve seen him wear a million times, baggy jeans with an oversized shirt. True Jeonghan fashion you’d say. 
“Good morning beautiful” He greeted, walking into your hotel room and closing the door behind him before backing you up against the wall. 
“Good morning handsome” You can't lie and say you didn't internally cringe at that, no matter how true the words actually were. Jeonghan himself grimaced, his face centimeters away from your own “Never say that again please” 
You rolled your eyes, “God forbid a woman try complimenting a man for once” 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You and Jeonghan spent all day exploring the city. Going from coffee shop to coffee shop, spending hours walking aimlessly around and even checking out the track. You  enjoyed Jeonghan’s company more than you’d like to admit. Jeonghan was a witty guy. He was funny, hot, really fucking good in bed but most of all he was genuine. That’s one thing you loved about Jeonghan that Seungcheol didn’t have. Where Jeonghan’s intentions with you were clear as day, Seungcheol? You were not too sure what the fuck his intentions were with you. 
You knew you weren’t technically supposed to dig this deep into either of them. After all, they were just your fuckbuddies, people you only saw when you were horny and needed release but you still couldn't help but feel more drawn to Jeonghan than you did Seungcheol. 
Jeonghan was a genuinely good person whose company you actually enjoyed and you knew he did enjoy yours too. Seungcheol however ignored all your texts until he was the one that needed release and you didn’t have a problem with that until now.  Until Jeonghan brought it up. 
“You know, I really like spending time with you. Aside from the sex” It came from out of the blue when the two of you were walking back to your hotel. 
“So the sex just sucks huh?” You looked at him with a mischievous grin 
“You know that’s not what i meant” 
“I know, I really enjoy spending time with you too Jeonghan” He smiled at that, pulling you closer by the hip until you were pressed right by his side. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence until he spoke up again. 
“You know, you should stop seeing Seungcheol” 
You chuckled, this wasn’t the first time Jeonghan has hinted towards how much he doesn’t like you fucking his teammate. 
“Yeah, okay” 
“I'm serious! It might have to do with the fact im like fucking obsessed with you or the fact that I know Seungcheol doesn’t want you like I do but I swear, the way i want you does not compare to the way he wants you” Your eyebrows raised at that, you knew you prefer Jeonghan over Seungcheol but hearing him tell you why you should pick him over Seungcheol is just all the more satisfying. 
“Why do you think so?” 
“Because-!” He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands, not wanting to tell you how much he wants you. How he stays up thinking about how it’d be if you were his. 
“Because I like you beyond the sex, I want a relationship with you. I don’t wanna have to share you with anyone because I’m greedy and I want you for myself. I wanna show you off as mine without anyone else coming in the way. I want you Y/N” 
You stopped in your tracks, prompting him to stop with you as well. “You want to date me?” 
“Really fucking bad. Please let me?” 
“Okay” You nodded, acting nonchalant on the outside when you were actually going fucking insane on the inside. “I’ll be your girlfriend but only if you ask me out properly” Jeonghan all but jumped for joy, screaming a couple choruses of “YES!!” 
“Y/N, light of my life, will you please be my girlfriend?” he playfully rolled his eyes
“I’d love to!” you smiled wide, his own smile mirroring yours before he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, in the middle of a street in Mogyoród. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
The next morning, Seungcheol was just doing his normal pre race rituals when all of a sudden he heard an awful lot of giggling just outside of his room. 
What the hell could be so funny right before a race? 
He swung his door open only to see Jeonghan sitting on the couch while you sat on his lap, one leg on either side of him while the two of you smooched away like a couple of highschoolers on their first date. 
“I think I can come P1 today! After All, I have my beautiful girlfriend here to cheer me on” Jeonghan teased, cupping your face so he can press yet another kiss to your lips. 
“Yeah? Good luck out there boyfriend. I’ll be cheering for you” 
Girlfriend??? Boyfriend??? Since fucking when? The last time Seungcheol remembers, you were not looking for anything close to even a situationship, let alone a relationship. 
That kinda explains it too, you’d been too busy with your stupid boyfriend to return any of his calls or texts for the past few days too. This is exactly why Seungcheol hated couples. Gross. 
Screw Yoon Jeonghan, he stole his girl in plain sight. 
Well, not really his girl. Realistically Seungcheol was just tryna hit. Much like yourself until you met Yoon fucking Jeonghan. 
Cheol knew he wasn't all that upset about the situation but he had to mess with Jeonghan just for the fun of it and man was he geeked. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
You couldnt fucking believe what you were seeing. Today was the day of the first two free practices and the only two drivers on the track who were not behaving were none other than your very own. 
Normally, Jeonghan and Seungcheol would stay very…civil during their races but something was off today. Jeonghan was minding his business, leading the race like he usually does until in comes Choi Seungcheol and overtakes him. 
So naturally, Jeonghan starts to speed up and get back in the lead. Which lasts maybe a minute until in comes Choi fucking Seungcheol again and runs him off the track. 
What the hell was Seungcheol’s problem today? 
The race continued to be a mess of Seungcheol messing with Jeonghan, overtaking him then running him off the track and repeating it. You could tell Jeonghan was getting frustrated. Hell, even you were getting frustrated. 
Did Seungcheol find out about you and Jeonghan? 
God, you’d hope this wasn't the result of Seungcheol’s…jealousy? There really wasn't anything to be jealous about on his end but still, if it was, that’s not okay and you were going to speak to him about it. The race went on like that, with Cheol repeatedly provoking Jeonghan and Jeonghan fighting back. You could hear the chattering of the people around you talking about the two of them and how it was ‘so odd that they’re acting this way!’ 
As expected, Jeonghan came P1 and Seungcheol came P3. P2 was none other than your best friend, Boo Seungkwan! The race went surprisingly well after the second to last lap and continued to trail behind Jeonghan who was in P1.
“Jeonghan!” You squealed, embracing him in the tightest hug possible but immediately pulling away when you made contact with his sweaty body. 
“Baby” He whined, pulling you back into his embrace, ignoring your noises of protest. You gave up the fight without much convincing, hugging him back tight and congratulating him over and over. 
“Wait, I’ll be back.” 
You excused yourself from Jeonghan and went on to find the one and only..
“Choi Seungcheol!” You muttered, aggressively making your way over to the ever so sweaty man sipping away at his Hydrorace water bottle. 
“Hey gorgeous” He cheekily smiled at you, pulling the straw away from his lips. You scoffed, annoyed by how calm he seemed after what he pulled out on the track today. 
“Don’t ‘hey gorgeous’ me, what the hell was that on the track today? You know either one of you could have gotten hurt, right?” You were practically fuming. 
“You know I'm smart enough to not let either of us get hurt out there right?” He mimicked your tone. Whatever he said didn’t matter in the moment, you were too heated to even think straight. 
“Talk to me when you’ve calmed down, Y/N.” And with that, he walked away from you. 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
 It was finally time for confrontation. 
You pulled out your phone camera to make sure you look decent enough to confront Seungcheol. Once you made sure you looked okay, you tucked it away in your  back pocket. Taking a deep sigh before knocking on Seungcheol’s hotel room, waiting for him to open the door. “Hey, Cheol…” You greet hesitantly, stepping inside and closing the door behind you, locking it shut just in case.
“Y/n…it’s so nice to see you!” Seungcheol smiled bitterly. “After you practically blew up on me in front of everyone today.” His fake ass smile dropped. 
You grimaced, hiding your face in embarrassment. “Don’t be like that, I just want to apologize.” You offered a small smile. 
“Delta time can be time too late, Y/N.”
If there was an embodiment of a question mark, it would be you right now. “You know I don't understand when you use racing speak, Seungcheol.”
“Delta time…anyway, just, don’t worry about it. I know you made your choice. Especially by the way you just full-named me. ” 
“Cheol-”
“We had a good run, yeah? don’t worry about it.” He smiled, “This doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends though you know. I just want you to be happy even if it’s not with me and with my…teammate.” You could sense the lack of sincerity at the end. Seungcheol was not happy about this and you knew that. 
“Thank you Cheol” You smiled, opening your arms and offering him a hug which he gladly accepted, engulfing you in the most warm hug you’ve ever received from him. 
It wasn’t easy to let Cheol go but you had to do this for Jeonghan. 
You were the first to pull away from the hug. You gave him a smile before turning on your heels. 
“See you at the race on Sunday?” 
“You know it.” 
────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────
“It’s just me and you baby” Jeonghan breathed against your lips, pinning you up against the wall and relishing in the way you sigh out in relief when he finally presses his lips to yours. “Be as loud as you want love” 
Jeonghan knew damn well it was not just the two of you, somewhere in one of the stalls was Seungcheol. He was about to walk out when he heard you and Jeonghan at the door and ran into a stall to avoid being caught. 
“Please Jeonghan” You whimpered when he pulled away to trail his lips down your neck, “Touch me, please?” 
“I am touching you”  
“Jeonghan” Your voice raises a pitch. Jeonghan can’t stand it, he loves how your squirm and whimper, so desperate to get fucked by him. Something in him loves how pretty you sound when you beg, especially when you scream his name with your eyes rolling back into your head. 
“Please, please fuck me…”
“Shut up.” He groans, proceeding to jackhammer two fingers inside of you. You yelped in surprise, leaning back onto the wall, gripping onto Jeonghan’s arm to hold yourself up. Jeonghan’s other hand trails up and covers your eyes. Hold around your head tight, leaving you more vulnerable to his ministrations. 
“I want your cock Jeonghan, please” He loved that your noises were getting louder but he knew that when you finally got his cock you’d be even louder. Just what he wants for your little audience. Jeonghan halts his fingers in you and smears the wetness all over your aching pussy. 
“Pussy’s so wet for me, know why?” Jeonghan smirks,  “Cause you’re a fucking slut, and all sluts know how to do is take cock.” And without warning, he glides the entirety of his length in at the same time and you were left gasping at the stretch. 
“J-Jeonghan..” you moaned loud, “You’re so fucking big. Oh my fucking God.” Jeonghan chuckled, setting a brutal pace from the start. You could never get tired of fucking Jeonghan, every time with Jeonghan bringing you to a new wave of euphoria even you couldnt fathom. 
“Yeah? Who fucks you this good huh?” Jeonghan wrapped his hand, previously covering your eyes around your throat and applying just enough pressure to make you see stars. “You, Jeonghan! Only you can fuck me this good” His thrusts were sloppy but they were so hard and deep. Tears rolled down your cheeks with every thrust as your body buzzed with pleasure.
“Good fucking girl” He praised, “You’re so good to me aren’t you?” You couldn’t respond. You don’t think you had it in you to say anymore. Just letting moan after moan leave your lips as you writhed under his hold. 
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling at the way you attempted to kiss him back. 
“My pretty girl, only mine.” 
2K notes · View notes
likeumeanit9497 · 3 months ago
Text
you jealous? | c.s. & m.s. |
chris sturniolo x reader x matt sturniolo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: y/n's secret fwb, chris, teaches her a lesson on sharing.
warnings: SMUTTTT; unprotected p in v; fingering; handjob; oral (f receiving); dirty talk; lowk toxic chris (srry); 2 boys 1 night ;); 18+
notes: hiiii guys!! sooooo i know i have been painfully inactive AGAIN over the past few weeks BUT I CAN EXPLAIN!!! so yes i got back from my trip at the start of aug, but i made a super stupid last minute decision to go back to college this fall, so i had to do all my applications, find a new place to live in a new city, AND move out of my old place all since i've been back. sooo i've been a bit busy hence why i haven't been able to write or post anything since the start of the month. BUT to make it up to u all i decided to write a fic for both the matt and chris girlies teehee. side note this is probably the closest i will ever get to a chris x matt x reader threesome okay i can't handle much more than this before it starts feeling weird af, BUT i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (can u tell the duo streams are making it hard for me to pick one straight triplet to thirst over for the week?? hope someone relates) love u all and can't wait to write some more nasty shit <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
As I walked through the front door at the party, I really didn’t know what to expect. Sure, the flashing lights, loud rap music, and the sinus-burning waft of alcohol that flooded my senses as soon as I opened the door were a given, but there was so much uncertainty in my life that the night was feeling almost surreal.
“There she is!” I heard Nick’s bellowing voice through the sea of people as I walked up the front steps and entered the living room. Nick was my best friend, and had been since him and his brothers moved to Los Angeles, and he had decided to throw a ‘small’ party for me when I told him that I got a promotion at my job. Nervous to have so much attention on me at once, I smiled sheepishly as he ran over to me with a bottle of tequila in his hand.
After squeezing me so hard that I thought my ribs might break, he waved the half-empty bottle in my face. “You look sober. You can’t be sober at your own party! Let’s go take some shots.” By his rushed speech and disheveled appearance, I could tell that he had been drinking for a while prior to my arrival. And he was right, I was sober, and with the number of eyes on me and unrecognizable people circling me, I knew I had to gain some liquid courage quick.
“I thought you said this was just going to be a small get together Nick, what happened?” I asked quietly as we reached the kitchen. He grabbed us two shot glasses from the stack sitting on the counter, and rushed to the fridge to grab me a High Noon before pouring the tequila. “It’s LA, Y/n, this is a small get together. And besides,” He handed me an overflowing shot glass, “Everyone loves you. Now hurry up and cheers me.” Rolling my eyes, I obliged; lifting my glass in the air and clinking it gently against his before bringing it to my lips and tilting my head back.
The first shot is always the worst, and this one was no exception. I felt the burn as it traveled down my throat and into my stomach, and I winced before finally giving in and chasing with the High Noon that Nick had grabbed for me. “Wooo!” Shouted Nick before pouring more tequila into our glasses. “Hold on, what are you doing?” I tried to protest by covering the top of my shot glass with my hand. Without hesitation, Nick swatted my hand away. “You need another silly. Everyone here has been drinking for hours.” Grumbling under my breath, I let him pour another one, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the person I was most anxious to see would make an appearance.
As if he had sensed my nerves, it was just then, as I was bringing my second shot to my lips, that I saw him walking up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hurriedly took my shot before chugging half of my drink at once in an attempt to calm my mind. I still had my drink at my lips when he noticed me; his droopy blue eyes scanning the room before they landed on mine. He smirked, soft pink lips curled up in a taunting manner, before waltzing over to where Nick and I were standing.
“Hey there.” He chirped, leaning against the counter just inches away from me. “Hey Chris.” I replied, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible as I felt his gaze burn into me. “When did you get in?” He asked as I continued to avoid eye contact. I took a sip of my drink. “Just a few minutes ago.” There was a silence between the three of us; the awkwardness so intense that I felt like I could explode. “Okayyyy, I’m gonna go say hi to a few people.” Nick stated before quickly rushing off to the living room, leaving me alone with Chris.
“So,” Began Chris, “Long time no see.” I felt him take a step closer to me before running his hand lightly across the small of my back. Reacting to his touch, I inhaled a sharp breath and my eyes shot to his. “Very funny.” I responded, my voice a low whisper as if anyone could hear our conversation above the loud music and steady chatter in the room. He chuckled, still rubbing my back discreetly. “I thought so.”
It had actually been less than 24 hours since I had seen Chris. Just the night before, my wrists had been tied to his headboard while my legs were wrapped around his waist. A few weeks ago, after a night at the bar with Nick, Chris and I had had rushed, sloppy sex on their living room couch when Matt and Nick were asleep. Since then, him and I had fucked at least a dozen more times without telling a soul. I couldn’t bear the thought of my best friend finding out that I was sleeping with his brother, and Chris couldn’t stand the thought of anyone knowing anything about his personal life. Plus, there was something so sexy about our little secret; and I worried that if anyone found out about what we had been doing, the adrenaline that flooded my veins every time he looked at me with that knowing gaze, or touched me covertly, would disappear.
Over the past few weeks, there had been moments when our secret was almost revealed. Like the one time, when I was changing in Nick’s room, when he saw the dark blue hickeys all across my chest and stomach. Or another time, when I rolled up my sleeves to wash my hands in the kitchen and Matt asked me about the marks on my wrists. Both times, I froze; but both times I was able to come up with little white lies on the spot. I had made up a fictional man — one that lived in another city and they certainly didn’t know — that I had been seeing, and after sharing perhaps too many explicit details, they had both believed me.
Other than that, there had been no other times where people seemed to have any inclination of what Chris and I had been doing — most likely because we hadn’t been around others since we started hooking up. Tonight was the first time that we were going to be drinking with a big group of people, hence why I had been so anxious about how the night might go.
“You wanna go downstairs?” Chris’ voice in my ear pulled me from my thoughts, and I felt that familiar jump in my stomach from the thought of being alone with him right now. However, I was still sober enough to remember that we had to be careful, so I took a moment and glanced around the room. Everyone seemed pretty drunk, but the night was still young, and it was too risky yet. So, I shook my head softly. “We can’t yet, let’s wait for it to get later.” I was whispering just like he had been, and I felt his hand move from my lower back down to my ass, where he cupped it and gave it a generous squeeze. “Got it.” He replied, before snaking off and leaving me alone in our corner of the kitchen. Sighing, I reached for the bottle of tequila that Nick left behind; pouring myself yet another shot. Tonight was gonna be a long night.
𓆩♡𓆪
After a few more shots and a couple High Noons, I was drunk. Unfortunately, it had done nothing to ease my nerves, because I had spent the past hour or so watching Chris get progressively closer to another girl. As I leaned against the kitchen table attempting to keep up a conversation with Matt, I watched as he went from innocently chatting with her, to draping his arm across the back of the couch where she was sitting, to him now; pulling her onto his lap as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.
I tried to act as unbothered as possible, but it wasn’t easy. It’s not like I had any romantic feelings for Chris — him and I had both made it abundantly clear that it was just sex — but I couldn’t help but see red as I watched her run her hands through his messy curls as she rolled her hips on his lap. It was just that the sex that him and I were having was so good, I selfishly didn’t want anyone else to get it from him.
Groaning under my breath, I made an excuse and snuck away from Matt before walking to the fridge to grab one more drink. As I was rummaging through the fridge’s contents, I felt a warm hand brush against my bare leg. “You ready to sneak away now?” His words were hushed just like before, but I couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be serious.” I replied before closing the fridge and cracking open my drink. Now facing him, I noticed he had a confused expression across his face.
“What happened? Did that girl on the couch give you blue balls?” Even as I spoke, I recognized how stupid and bitter I sounded. A slight twinkle formed in Chris’ eyes, causing me to grow even more angry. “What are you talking about Y/n?” He asked, a small smile crossing his lips. I rolled my eyes, growing increasingly more angry. “The girl who’s tongue was just down your throat. What happened to her?” I asked, noticing how drunk I was sounding. Chris stared at me for a moment, before tilting his head slightly to the side. “You jealous?” He asked, and in that moment I wanted to smack him.
“Of course not,” I said, walking in the direction of Matt’s washroom in an attempt to escape this increasingly uncomfortable conversation, “But you’re crazy if you think you’re gonna come to me only when plan A fails.” Trying the door, I realized that the washroom was locked and I groaned. Chris had followed me down the hall, and now he had me cornered. Just as I was about to turn around and get past him back to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into Matt’s room.
“What are you doing?” I exclaimed in a harsh whisper as my sense of sight was almost completely removed by the pitch-black darkness of the room. I heard the door slam shut behind me, but when I turned around, I could just barely see the outline of Chris’ frame standing just inches from me. Just then, I heard a low chuckle come from his direction. “I can’t believe my Y/n is jealous.” He said, taking a few more steps in my direction before grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him.
“You know that you’re my favourite girl baby,” He started, bringing a hand to my throat and squeezing gently. My head was tilted up, and in the poor lighting the only thing I could make out were his bright blue eyes reflecting my own nervous expression. “But you’ve gotta learn how to share.” Before I could even roll my eyes at his statement, I felt his warm thumb press against my lower lip; urging it open. With hitched breaths, I obliged; parting my lips and opening my mouth slightly.
With his hold on my neck, he tilted my head back even further and I felt, more than saw, his lips just centimetres from mine. Then, without warning, he spit a pool of his saliva into my mouth with expert precision, and at that moment all of my walls caved in. “Now be a good girl for me and get on Matt’s bed.”
With red hot arousal already coursing through me, I didn’t hesitate before rushing over to the unmade bed in the centre of the room. The sound of my racing heart in my ears and the rush of excitement that I was feeling was enough of a distraction from the fact that I was draping my body along a bed that didn’t belong to either Chris or I. The fact that almost anyone could walk in at any moment, and the view that I had once I faced Chris, was enough to cause my head to spin.
There, just in front of me, was a now-shirtless Chris. From my position on the bed, he was looming over me; and the smirk plastered to his face was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. My needy eyes trailed slowly down his body, first his chest; down to his stomach; then his waistband — wait, what’s that shiny thing in his hand?
As if he heard my thoughts, Chris dangled the object teasingly, allowing me to realize what it was — the silver handcuffs from his room. “Were you just carrying those around all night?” I asked, locking my eyes back on his. He shrugged. “Didn’t know when I was finally gonna be able to use them.” I rolled my eyes, but as I opened my mouth to deliver a snarky reply, I was abruptly cut off by his lips on mine.
Hungry, drunk lips moulded to mine — they tasted like him. All of my annoyance with him dissolved within an instant as he wasted no time in peeling my clothing from my body; only breaking the kiss for a moment as he pulled my shirt over my head in the space between us. Immediately, his hands flew to my lower half where he simply lifted my skirt to give himself access to his favourite part of my body.
He squeezed my ass so hard that it hurt in that deliciously erotic way. Pulling me onto his lap, I felt his growing member press against my aching core as he continued to massage my ass like it was a life source that he had been deprived of for years. Low moans passed through his lips as he indulged, and I felt my body begin to tremble in painful anticipation. “Chris.” I whined before subtly grinding my core against the part of him that I needed most in that moment. I felt his lips turn up into a smile. “What’s wrong Y/n?” His voice was playful but rough from arousal, “I could’ve fucked you hours ago, remember? Then you wouldn’t be so painfully worked up.” I groaned again, not caring how desperate I felt as I dragged my soaked core up and down his clothed shaft for the second time.
Chris used his harsh grip on my ass to lift me off of him, causing me to release a frustrated sigh from the lack of contact. That quickly changed once he slid my panties to the side and used his fingers to gingerly graze my aching centre. I released a soft hiss as his fingers reached my swollen clit; hoping more than anything that he would spend extra time there. He chuckled at my noises, but any care I might have had over that dissipated as his fingers drew rapid circles on my bundle of nerves.
Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, I had to bite hard on his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out profanities from the immediate pleasure that I felt circulating in my body just from his touch. “You know, Y/n,” Chris began, his words coming out choppy from his quick movements, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were turned on watching me with that other girl.” I stayed silent, feeling tears well up in my eyes in the same way that my orgasm was welling up in my lower stomach. With all the strength I had, I managed to shake my head weakly in response to Chris’ words; causing him to chuckle.
“You might not think so, in your mind, but your pussy is telling me something different.” Just then, two of his long fingers slipped effortlessly inside of me. Unable to hold back now, I released a sharp scream into his bruised shoulder. His fingers began moving in and out of me slowly, curling right up to my g-spot each time. “Oh yeah,” His fingers began picking up speed; filling the room with the sounds of my arousal, “You hear that? You’re pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, it’s giving away your deep dark secrets.”
Moans now fell from my lips carelessly as his actions and words brought me closer and closer to an earth shattering orgasm. Maybe he was right, maybe there was a part of me that loved the thought of him being with another girl. Maybe I liked the idea of watching from the sidelines as he touched, kissed, or even fucked other girls.
Or maybe I just loved the idea that, no matter how many other girls he’s with, he will never find a better fuck than me.
That was the last thought I had before my mind was overtaken by the tidal wave of my orgasm. Arching my back in pleasure, I moaned out profanities as Chris’ fingers worked my pulsing core. I felt my legs shake as the relentless euphoria tore through my body, until Chris quickly removed his fingers from my core, lifted me up off of his lap, and bent me over the side of the bed all in one motion.
The cool air against my soaked and exposed core caused me to gasp, but still I waited exactly where he placed me with trembling limbs as I anticipated his next move. The sharp sound of a zipper filled the dark room, and after a moment I felt the heat from Chris’ member press against my wetness. Immediately and without thinking, I began rolling my hips in a weak attempt at relieving the unyielding want deep inside of me, but a firm hand on my hip promptly stopped all movements. “Wait one minute, Y/n.” Chris said, and I heard the sound of metal clanking together before the ice cold handcuffs were placed around my wrists.
I felt my stomach do a flip just like it always did when Chris tied me up in any way that he could, and once he was content with their placement, he gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands as he used his other to line his shaft up with my opening. I felt his tip slide up and down my slick folds a handful of times, causing an anticipatory shiver to crawl up my spine, before the indescribable satisfaction of feeling his length stretch my walls caused me to sigh in relief. That satisfaction was quickly replaced by gritty need as Chris began slamming his cock deep into me at a relentless pace. His hand tightened around my wrist as he gained momentum, causing the harsh metal of the handcuffs to dig into my skin; increasing the pleasure that I was feeling.
The room was filled with the sounds of my ass slapping against his front, and I knew even without him saying anything that the view he had was driving him crazy. Just as expected, his hand dropped a sharp smack to my left ass cheek before gripping onto it ruthlessly. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me baby.” Chris’ voice was already deep and guttural, and I could tell that he wasn’t gonna last very long. Moaning in response, I bit onto the comforter beneath me to muffle the sound as I relished in the feeling of his cock hitting just the right spot on each harsh thrust.
“This is what you needed, huh? I knew by your attitude you were dyin’ for it.” His filthy talk was enough to send me another strong wave of vertigo, and I felt my restrained hands desperately try to grab onto him in any way so that I could stabilize myself. “You know this cock is yours,” Chris continued, both his movements and his voice now growing choppier, “But just because something is yours doesn’t mean you can’t share.” I felt my body begin to tense up, goosebumps raised on my skin as I felt my pleasure begin to boil over.
“Fuck, gonna cum baby.” Chris’ words were rushed, and as he spoke them he quickly pulled his swollen length out of my wincing core. After a few pumps in his hand, I felt his warm fluid shoot onto my back and collect in a small pool. As he came down from his high, I heard small grunts leave his mouth and I wanted nothing more than to use my own restrained hands to milk him dry. After a few moments of silence, both of us simply catching our breaths, Chris spoke. “Sorry, Y/n, I didn’t expect to cum so fast.” He massaged my ass with his hands as he spoke.
“It’s okay.” I replied, though the screaming need in between my legs was saying otherwise. “Get up on the bed and arch that back, I’ll get you there.” His words caused my body to quiver once again. Just as I was about to do as he told me, the shocking sound of a door opening caused me to freeze in place like a deer in headlights.
“Chris who the fuck are you talking to in my ro-”
The familiar voice filled the room and deafening silence immediately followed. Chris’ hands were still on my waist, and I felt my skin grow hot in embarrassment. In the heat of everything that had happened over the past little while, I had forgotten who’s room we were in. But now, that person’s voice pulled me back to reality, and I was reminded of the fact that my naked body had been pressed against his bed as I was fucked senseless by his brother.
Still, no one was speaking. My face was buried in the comforter, where I planned on keeping it in order to avoid facing the situation I found myself in. The silence felt like a fifty pound weight pressing against my bare back, and I prayed to the universe that someone was going to speak. Just then, I felt Chris shift behind me; placing a hand on the back of my neck and leaning towards my ear.
“I know how to share what’s mine. Watch this.”
His words sent chills down my spine, and that chill was exemplified once I felt the heat of his body move away from me. Through the pounding anxiety in my head, I was able to hear a few footsteps followed by an entire conversation performed in well-executed whispers. Chris and Matt spoke in hushed tones for what felt like hours as I continued to stay in the place that Chris had left me; my heart racing and breath heaving at the thought of what they might be talking about. Chris’ last statement was ominous, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher what he meant: he wanted to share me with Matt.
As they spoke to one another, I went over the idea of it in my head. It was wrong, for sure. I was already fucking one of my best friends’ brothers, but to fuck both of them in one night was too far. Plus, I had never had any interest in Matt before. Him and I were friends, sure, but not once had I considered doing anything more with him. Because I was already fucking his brother, and his other brother is my best friend. It was wrong, end of story.
But then why did I feel a new trickle of my own arousal fall down my leg at the thought of Matt’s eyes glued to my naked body right now?
I’m fucked.
“You okay, Y/n?” I heard Chris’ voice and it pulled me out of my trance. I knew what he meant by that. “Yes.” I replied, wincing at the desperation laced through my tone. A chuckle came in response, then the sound of the door opening — bringing with it bright lights and an increase in clarity of the constant party chatter — before it clicked shut; and then, silence.
I could hear nothing around me but my own heavy breathing, and if I didn’t know any better I would genuinely believe that I was alone in the room at last. But I did know better, because I could feel his tired blue eyes on my body. I still hadn’t moved, couldn’t move. My face was still buried deep in his comforter and I was too afraid to face him yet. My legs felt like jello, and I knew that if I wasn’t already bent over his bed, I would have collapsed by now.
Finally, I hear footsteps. They were slow, and I couldn’t tell which direction they were going, but he was finally moving. Next I heard the shuffling sound of some sort of fabric, then more footsteps. This time, I was sure they were heading for me. I was proven right when I felt the heat of his body behind me. Suddenly, I released a sharp gasp when I felt the soft material of a towel against my lower back. Matt wiped the pool of his brother’s cum off of my lower back in silence, and even the accidental brush of his knuckles against my clammy skin set me on fire.
“So, this was what those marks on your wrists were from.” He finally spoke, and his voice in this setting was so unfamiliar that I physically jumped. In my silence, he assumed I didn’t understand what he meant, so I felt him tap lightly on the metal around my wrists. “The handcuffs.” He clarified even further. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, trying to sound confident, “Yeah.” At that, I felt his hands travel around the perimeter of the cuffs, trying to find something, when suddenly I heard a faint click and my wrists were free.
Taking the cuffs completely off of me, he rubbed my aching wrists gently with both hands. Even this touch, one seemingly so innocent and caring, shot waves of pleasure to my core. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” His words grounded me for just a moment; reminding me that this is in fact real life, yet still I responded with zero hesitation. “I’m sure.”
Again, silence. But this time, it was accompanied by the remarkable feeling of Matt’s gentle fingers trailing down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “Turn around for me.” His voice had dropped an octave since he last spoke, and while it was still far from threatening, it was no longer the comforting tone he had used as he took my cuffs off.
The shame I had previously felt from the situation had been stripped off of me by his touch, so I barely hesitated before lifting my head off of the bed and turning my body so that I was now facing him. In the dark, the outline of his body looked nearly identical to his brother, but I was able to easily tell the difference. My body didn’t react in excited fear when I saw his frame, but instead it responded in anticipatory comfort; as if I knew I had nothing to be nervous about.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, I watched his chest rise and fall in silence for a moment. Unable to really see his eyes, I was unsure what he was looking at, but I knew he was looking at me. Just then, I watched as he climbed onto his bed, meeting me where I was. He leaned so close to me that I had to allow my head to fall back against the comforter. Now laying on top of me, using one arm to brace his weight, I suddenly felt the lust seeping out of his veins just before his lips attached to mine.
His lips were slightly softer, and slightly fuller than Chris’, and they moved with just the slightest bit more apprehension for a moment. That quickly dissipated, however, as after just a few short moments I felt his tongue run against my lower lip; begging for access to my mouth. I obliged, and relished in the new and exciting taste of him. His lips were cold — the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his skin told me that was because he had just been outside — and they felt amazing against my own hot, swollen lips. As I felt one of his hands snake up to my chest, I released a soft moan. My pleasure began to double, and then triple, when I felt him squeeze my tit and run a thumb along my hardened nipple before doing the exact same to the other one.
Having complete access to my hands for the first time in what felt like forever, I used that to my advantage and began exploring Matt’s body. His frame was slightly thinner than Chris’, and I relished in the feeling of a raised, fresh tattoo against my fingers as I traveled down his arm. Reaching his waist, I grazed my hand against his clothed member; already painfully hard and pressing against his jeans. As I palmed it a few times, Matt released a soft moan in my ear before moving his mouth down to my left tit; swirling his slippery tongue against my nipple and causing me to shutter in pleasure. After taking his time with the left, he moved his mouth to the right. While Chris’ favourite part of my body is my ass, clearly Matt has found his own personal favourite.
While the feeling of his mouth on my tit was already causing my head to spin, I desperately needed more. I fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans, before slowly pulling them down his legs and hopefully granting his member some relief. With his mouth still on my tit, Matt helped me by pulling them down the rest of the way, along with his boxers. Once his boxers were off and his cock was able to spring free, I immediately grabbed it in my hand and began pumping up and down. Another soft groan left his lips, and the vibration from it against my sensitive nipples caused me to moan in reply.
As I pumped his member in my hand, I felt his own hand trail down my body before finally landing on the place where I needed it the most. As if he knew my body by heart, Matt found my clit in seconds and wasted no time before rubbing it at the same pace that I was jerking him off at. His mouth detached from my tit and found mine, but in our world of equal pleasure the kiss was sloppy; our mouths fell open at times and tongues swiped in and out mindlessly.
“Y-you feel good?” Asked Matt, his voice soft and choppy at the same time. Nodding my head, I widened my legs with the desperation of needing more. “Want to feel all of y-you Matt.” I whispered, opening my eyes and finally meeting his. In the dim light, they were glossed over. His pupils were so dilated that, if I didn’t know him before, I would have assumed his eyes were brown. He blinked at me for a quick moment, but didn’t make me wait long before positioning himself in between my legs.
I watched in awe as his body hovered over mine. I flinched slightly as he lined his member up to my opening; my core still slightly sore from a few minutes ago. Noticing, Matt looks back up at me. “I’ll go slow, okay?” Nodding, I drop my jaw as Matt sinks into me, keeping true to his word but still bottoming out. I felt every inch of him stretch me out, and as he stayed still to allow me a moment to adjust to him, I couldn’t help but release a frustrated moan. As if he has been in tune with my needs for years, Matt takes this simple remark for what it means, and slowly began thrusting into me.
Although his pace is slow, his shaft pleasures what seems like every nerve inside of me before finally reaching my spongey g-spot with a quick snap on each thrust. His movements are so pleasurable it’s almost excruciating, and I struggle to keep the moans from falling helplessly from my mouth. What’s more, is that even with my eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, I can feel his eyes on my face, taking in every expression and hushed sound that I make. “You want more?” He asks, his voice in a strained whisper. I shake my head. “N-no. Keep going just like that, please.” I reply, and I release a breathy moan when I feel him wrap my legs around his waist before continuing in the same unbeatable rhythm.
I run my hands through his dark brown hair, before allowing them to rest on the nape of his neck. I relished in the feeling of his back muscles tensing on each meticulously controlled thrust, before pulling his head down so that I could kiss him. Normally, I’m not someone who cares much about kissing during sex, but there was something about the deprivation and tenderness of his soft kiss that seemed to bring me even closer to an orgasm than his cock did. As he kissed me, his pace never wavered, but I could tell by the soft grunts falling from his lips that he was getting close.
As if reading my mind, he suddenly pulled out of me and I felt him shift on the bed. Thinking that he was about to cum on my stomach and that I was going to once again be deprived of an orgasm, I felt embarrassing tears well up in my eyes. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the sudden feeling of his tongue twirling skillfully against my clit. My hands immediately flew to his hair, and I was no longer capable of holding back the moans that fell from my lips. As he continued eating my pussy, he slid two fingers into my core and began pumping them the exact same way he pumped his cock into me just moments before.
In that moment, I was in total euphoria. I was sure that my knuckles were turning white from the death grip that I had on Matt’s hair, just as I was sure that if anyone was on the other side of the bedroom door — or, in the bathroom for that matter — they would definitely hear the filth that was falling from my mouth. But I had lost the ability to care, because all of my thoughts were highjacked by the unutterable levels of pleasure that were surging through my body in that moment.
And what made everything that much more intense, was the fact that Matt so clearly loved what he was doing to me. Every few seconds, I felt a deep moan fall from his mouth and vibrate off of my bundle of nerves, and in the off chance that I had my eyes open, watching him, I noticed him grinding his hips against his bed to gain some sort of relief. “I-I — oh fuck! — Matt, I’m c-close!” I exclaimed, feeling the waves of my orgasm rise threateningly close to the surface.
At my proclamation, Matt moved in one swift motion and slid his cock back into me. His pace was the same as it was before, but this time his thumb found my swollen clit and he began rubbing it quickly. “Gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” My legs were back around his waist, and my fingers were digging into his shoulder blades as I struggled to gather my thoughts. “Anywhere you want Matt!” My words breathless and exclamatory, I was barely able to get them out before an indescribable orgasm tore through my body.
I might have truly screamed out in pleasure, and dug my nails into Matt’s skin so far that he bled, but I have no way of knowing for sure — I had lost all of my senses through the overwhelming waves of pleasure. All I remember is feeling as if the pressure that had been building up inside of me for so long had been too much, and my brain had exploded. For what could have been minutes or hours — but which was probably only a few seconds — I truly thought that I might have died. But then, suddenly, I was back in my body, and it was convulsing uncontrollably through a life altering orgasm.
When I came back to my senses, Matt had his damp forehead resting against mine. His body had stilled above me, but I could feel his member twitching inside of me; painting my walls in his signature shade of white. Both of our breathing was ragged as if we had both just completed a marathon, and we both stayed still, in complete silence, as we came down from our highs.
After a few moments, Matt placed a soft kiss to my forehead before slowly removing himself from my centre. I watched him walk over to where he had discarded the towel, picking it up and bringing it over to me to help me clean myself up. So far neither of us had spoken, but I didn’t care very much as my mind was still not fully connected to my body. Finally, he spoke. “You still feel okay about this?” He asked as he began putting his clothes on. I smiled, almost laughing at the absurdity of the caution in his words. “I feel more than okay Matt.” I replied, to which he released a small laugh before handing me my shirt.
Once I was dressed, I managed to get myself to my feet. Standing at the edge of the bed, I suddenly felt nervous about walking back out into the party after being gone for so long. As if he read my mind once again, Matt walked to the door first. “I’ll head out first, then you can come out in a few minutes.” I laughed nervously but nodded. “Sounds good. See you out there.” I watched as his hand reached for the door knob before turning back to the bed to find my phone.
“Oh and Y/n?” I faced him again, “Chris might be good at sharing, but I’m not.”
His words made my already unsteady knees wobbly, and I dropped back onto the bed once he closed the bedroom door behind him. All at once, every moment of the night hit me like a freight train, and I finally realized what happened. I fucked Matt. Just a few hours ago, I was pretending to have a normal conversation with him as I was green with envy watching Chris make out with that girl. I had never planned on doing anything even close to what I had done with him, yet here I am, sitting on his bed. I close my eyes. I can still feel him inside of me. He was so good. But Chris was also sogood. Both of my best friends’ triplet brothers. How did I get here?
I’m fucked.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
1K notes · View notes
faithshouseofchaos · 15 days ago
Note
So you're looking for franquito requests? I have too many ideas, like it's insane. The things this man does to me I swear 🥰🥰🥰
Well, maybe you could do something like Argentinian non famous reader (not necessarily Argentinian but u know) dating him and nobody knows about her, till one day they both went tired of people assuming he's single n PUM, hard launch. I don't know if I explained this correctly, English isn't my first language so I'm sorry bby 🥺
💛🇦🇷
Hard launch — Franco colapinto x fem!reader
Faceclaim — none I left it pretty inclusive for everyone Warnings— none
Fluff
Word count—
Summary— no one knew Franco was dating anyone until he was photographed at a party kissing his girlfriend.
Franco posted to his instagram
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Caption— Fue un fin de semana difícil que terminó en abandono, pero tengo ganas de correr en Las Vegas (it was a tough a weekend that ended in a dnf but i'm looking forward to racing in Vegas)
Liked by — Lewishamilton, Lando_Norriss yourusername, and 292 others
Comments
User1– not Franco making goggly eyes at Lando during the drivers parade
User2– you’ll get them next weekend Franco
User3– Franco try not to flirt with everyone challenge failed
User4– I’m surprised that Franco is still single man’s flirts with everyone
Your username— I think you did well today Franco
Liked by Franco
User5– we all saw that right?
User6– oh we saw alright
Y/n posted to her story (private instagram)
Tumblr media
Caption— chico somnoliento 💤😴 (sleepy boy)
Comments off
Seen by … Franco_colapinto43 and yourBFF
Yourprivinstagram
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Caption— adivina de quién es la casa (guess who’s home)
Liked by Franco_colapinto43, yourBFF
Comments limited—
yourBFF— who’s that funny looking man on my wife’s instagram account.
Franco_Colapinto43– last time I checked I was her boyfriend 🤨
yourBFF— for now 😁
Franco_Colapinto43– what’s that supposed to mean???
————————————————————————
The party was alive with chatter, music, and the occasional burst of laughter. People milled about, drink in hand, dancing in the dim light as the night carried on. Franco was standing by the bar, joking with a group of friends, when his eyes caught yours across the room. You were leaning against a wall, watching the crowd with a slight smile, your arms casually crossed. You always did prefer standing back and observing, letting the noise of others fade into the background.
Franco’s grin widened, and without a second thought, he excused himself from the conversation and made his way toward you. He didn’t care that people might be watching. He had long since stopped caring about the whispers, the questions, the rumors. It was just you two now, and that was enough.
“Hey,” he greeted, slipping an arm around your shoulders as he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “You having fun?”
You raised an eyebrow at him, playful as ever. “You know me, I’m just here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”
He laughed, the sound low and easy. “Oh, trust me, it’s too late for that.” He pulled you a little closer, your bodies pressed together in the cozy little corner of the room. You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
The laughter around you seemed to fade, the chatter becoming a blur, and it was like the two of you were in your own world for a moment. Franco’s thumb traced the outline of your arm before he pulled back slightly, his mischievous smile never leaving his face.
“What if we stopped letting everyone assume I’m single?” he asked casually, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark.
You didn’t have to think about it—this had been brewing for weeks, maybe even months. You’d both gotten tired of the secrecy, of the constant guessing. You didn’t care about the opinions of strangers anymore, not when it came to him.
“I think it’s time,” you said, your voice light but resolute.
And then, with an ease that could only come from the comfort of being with someone who knew you better than anyone else, Franco leaned in, his lips catching yours in a quick, almost careless kiss.
For a moment, time seemed to stop. The room fell silent, people frozen in place. But you didn’t care. You were too busy focusing on the way his lips lingered just long enough to make it clear.
As you pulled away, your hearts still beating in sync, the sound of murmurs around you slowly started up again. Whispers rippled through the crowd, but neither of you looked around. You didn’t need to.
Franco grinned and shrugged, pulling you close again. “Guess we’re not hiding anymore,” he said with a teasing smile, as if nothing had just happened. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess not.”
——————————————
F1.Gossip has posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Caption— f1 driver Franco Colapinto caught kissing an unidentified woman while at a party.
Liked by— yourBFF, and 19289 others
Comments
User7– WAIT WHAT?!?!
User8– who is she?
User9– con—😭😭—grad—😭😭—ulations—😭😭
User10– I new there was no way he was single
Franco_Colapinto43–has posted
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Caption— Bueno, gatos fuera de la balsa, feliz Segundo aniversario, mi amor. (well cats out of the bag happy 2 year anniversary my love)
liked by — lando_norris, Yourusername, yourBFF and 1028 others
733 notes · View notes