#probably should skip reading this one

[carriesthewind]

I watched Jenny Nicholson's new video on disney's failed Star Wars hotel (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0CpOYZZZW4), and there is some absolutely *fascinating* mental processes on display on the galactic starcruiser subreddit.

While many people are responding reasonably, some die-hard fans over there are spouting the absolutely unhinged, reality-denying, victim-blaming talking points she discusses in her video. There are several people who seem really invested in not just disagreeing with her, but insisting that she is not only objectively wrong but a bad-faith hater.

So I picked one of these people at random and scrolled back to try and see what their experience of the hotel was.

[Rambling musing below the cut. Unedited because I'm typing this because I can't get to sleep.]

Unsurprisingly, they insisted it was magical and life-changing and one of the best experiences anyone could have. However, these declarations of how important it felt to them were accompanied by no specifics about what about the experience was actually so great (with one exception, which I'll get to in a minute). Their very first post was about how they couldn't articulate why experience felt special.

I have some theories.

First, as Jenny alludes to in her video, there is a psychological pressure to justify the value in something a person has already invested so much money and time into. At one point, the redditor describes waiting on the phone on hold for two hours just to book an *add-on* for their trip. And as she says, the feeling of judgment from others only adds to this pressure. The redditor outright states that they feel uncomfortable saying they went to the hotel (outside the fan groups) because of how people react.

But I think it's more than that. As Jenny describes in her video (and as the redditor's description of their own experience matches), the experience was exhausting and overstimulating. The redditor describes being overwhelmed and overbooked, but also says they feel like they should have skipped out on sleep because they feel like they missed thing. And then, at the end of the second day - a literal 16 hour day of activities - there is a big finale, starting with an adrenaline-triggering "alarm," where you watch a cool live fight in the midst of a hundred other cheering, excited people. And this is the one positive specific that the redditor describes (multiple times, in fact!). They aren't a big fan of the sequels, but they "gasped when Rey showed up" in the finale. This isn't surprising at all! They were watching a live show while in a suggestible state and experienced an adrenaline rush, and their brain processed this as a magical experience.

This is reinforced by the redditor's descriptions of their nostalgia. They talk frequently about wishing they were in the hotel and wanting to return. But they specifics of what they miss are either vague or signifiers of the emotional experience (e.g. talking about how they miss the smell...because it reminds them of the hotel). And at one point, they mention that they miss the pre-trip anticipation almost as much as they miss the hotel itself.

This is a huge tip off that their interpretation of their experience was completely disconnected from the reality of the hotel. Whatever made the experience feel magical for them (whether or not I'm correct about my suspicions as outlined above), it had very little to do with any disney did or the actual quality of the hotel.

To be clear, I'm not invalidating the redditor's experience - if they say it felt life-changing and they don't regret what they spent, I believe them! I love all sorts of things in ways not reflected by any "objective" quality.

HOWEVER. I can also admit that! If someone criticizes something flawed that I love, it's not a personal attack on me! And my love for it isn't an justification for a) contributing to a narrative to encourage people to massively overpay for it and b) attacking people who didn't care for it and blame them for "doing it wrong"!

Especially - and here's the most interesting part - if I have many of the same criticisms of the thing myself.

Because while the redditor has only one specific about what made the experience great, they actually include lots of specifics about their experience. It's just that those specifics are all flaws. Here are some details of their experience as they actually describe it:

There were not enough character actors for them to actually interact with them meaningfully

The setup of the role play made them feel horrible social anxiety for a large chunk of the first day

They were forced to miss at least one major story event because of poor scheduling by the app/disney

Describing being randomly shown story beats disconnected of their actions within the roleplay/game (but describing it as 'I don't know how we accomplished that')

Nearly crying at one point because they were effectively locked out of a story moment

Wasting over an hour trying to figure out how to do a minor quest b/c of poor design

The experience the redditor actually describes is of a fairly-poorly designed, overcrowded larp that made them anxious, exhausted, and at times actively miserable, but ended with a really great adrenaline high. All of these things are objectively bad, and they all match onto Jenny's criticism.

But the redditor subjectively looks back at their experience as wonderful and magical. And so they are angry at Jenny, even though her criticisms map neatly onto their own experience, because she frames them as problems with the hotel. They seem to feel a pressure to defend their subjective experience by rejecting the possibility of any other interpretation of the experience, even the objective bad experiences of others.

In one of their most recent (of many) angry posts about how disingenuous Jenny is, they say, "For me, there's no reason to relitigate the debates surrounding the cruiser. We are more than happy to enjoy our memories from the time and let the rest of the "haters" just wallow in their hatred."

Three sentences earlier, they described how they used some of their precious time inside the magical hotel to try to prove she was lying about not being able to see the dinner show because she was placed behind a column.

The redditor cannot simply enjoy their memories from the time. Because even in the middle of their experience, they were forceably attempting to prove that all the money and time and expectations they invested *must* have been objectively worth it. Jenny's video is threatening because the redditor cannot pretend that they just had different experiences, that Jenny got unlucky while the redditor got lucky and had fun.

After coming home they feel unhappy, which *must* be because the experience was so good that they are dissatisfied returning to their 'normal life'. The anxiety, the wasted time, even the tears? Those weren't the experience, the experience was the adrenaline rush at the very end. It was life-changing. It was magical. It was worth it. All of it was worth every penny. It had to be.

[viric-dreams]

1812: A sailor takes a routine trip to London, unaware that this would be the last time he'd ever see Flanders. Many lasts were soon to follow.

1861: A boy proudly joins on with the Royal Navy, signing his new name for the very first time. This is a first of many ill-advised decisions.

I can lie and say that the last ES has me thinking about what my characters looked like back on the surface, but it's actually because of a WIP sent to me by an artist I will not name.

[skipblebee]

You will never guess who binge watched Bungo Stray Dogs

[shima-draws]

I just finished Skypeia AGHHHFJHHHH it was so GOOD

[stuckatmyhouse12]

There should be one million seasons of Skip and Loafer

[mechanicalbowtye]

read the scratch upd8. little too close to home

[obstinaterixatrix]

god I could go for a crematorium-ish romance right now. but like not the ones I’ve already read something new. I’ve reread my bias so many times I wanna see a different guy stepping on rakes and getting kicked down flights of stairs and wailing sobbing throwing himself to the ground groveling for forgiveness. and being hit by a car

[skenpiel]

lol. lmao. act 5. here we go

[trans-leek-cookie]

comes out of the "googling things about the disorder you have and then googling a vague medical term and not getting a clear answer and complaining about the vagueness of the term to your friend who probably has more familiarity with the term and it's implications in context" session covered in blood and wailing and writing on the floor

[geddy-leesbian]

you ever type the words "leon is technically pregnant while getting plowed but there's not any breeding kink stuff" and then set your phone down to question your life choices

[zhalar]

thing i keep forgetting about writing is that there's. so much of it to be done. please pleaseplease i dont wanna be writing this scene anymore. i think this scene has lasted for seven thousand pages already

[skrunksthatwunk]

i need to get up i need to read i have a quiz in an hour i need to get up i need to read i have a quiz in an hour ive been skipping half the readings i have a quiz in an hour i need to get out of bed i have a quiz i have a quiz i have a quiz i need to

[leeechin]

(ꗃ) dangling charms [nerd sunghoon] ! (mdni)

⋆ in which you test the limits of the cute quiet dork that sat nearby you and your friend during lunch. but what you didn't expect, was to see a whole new side of this quiet dork, in his bed.

⌗ warnings & content: college au! sunghoon and jay are such losers in this oh my god. but i love it. nerd!sunghoon x fem!reader, backshots hehehe, protected sex (cheering) bigdick!hoon, oral (m.rec), fingering, praise, dom!hoon, etc. a lot of kaomojis when reader texts hoon, deal with it lol. early 2010s kind of au as well.

(lee's note: on that nerd sunghoon agenda :p i skimmed through this, not throughly proofread so lmk if you see any errors :D hope u guys enjoy i'm nerv abt this one.) reqs r open don't be afraid !! just read my guidelines first :3

word count: 3.0k

★ masterlist | post queue

"i love you y/n, but i don't think it is genuinely possible to even get him within the same vicinity of you that is not on campus.." gaeul comments, taking a sip of her drink.

you sigh in response, not bothering to hide the fact that you're eyeing park sunghoon, the cute quiet nerd you sat a couple seats away in your econ class. also, a couple tables away where you and gaeul were sitting at in the campus' dining hall. "what if i just asked him to tutor me—? it would benefit me and get me close to him."

"do you realize how crazy you sound right now?!" gaeul chokes, voice a little too loud causing the surrounding tables by the two of you to give a look.

"then i'm insane because i'm gonna ask him to tutor me right now—!" you exclaim, grabbing a piece of gum from the pack that was on the table, unwrapping the foil and popping it into your mouth. gaeul hypes you up, giving you a small applause in which you both giggle.

approaching his table, you felt a nervous tinge in your chest, choosing to ignore that feeling, you strut with confidence, stopping until you're standing directly in front of sunghoon. he looks up with an eyebrow raised, shutting off his laptop that he was doing an assignment on. "can i help you—?" loud smacks of you chewing the gum obnoxiously filled the awkward silence between the two of you, but you smile at him. "park sunghoon right?"

he nods, face still filled with confusion as to why such a pretty girl is at the table he occupied by himself on most days. "you have the best marks in our econ class.. and i was wondering if you could help me revise this paper i failed in that class.." you sheepishly asked, hand scratching the side of your head as you await a response.

"sure i can." sunghoon's response is short and quick, tapping his ipod that was connected with his wired headphones on his lap, waiting for you to say something. "great—! you should write your contact information for me down!" you beam. pulling out of your arm bag a mini notepad and pen, handing it to sunghoon. he takes a quick look at the character charm that dangled on a beaded string on your pen, laughing to himself in his head at how cute and amusing you were. carefully examining what he wrote before handing it back to you, sunghoon gives a small smile in return as well.

you thank sunghoon and practically skip back to your table, gaeul looking in shock as you hold up the once empty page of your notepad, filled with his contact info.

sunghoon's enjoying a peaceful dinner with his roommate when he hears a ding! from his phone. "this is the first time i've ever heard your phone during dinner." jongseong comments, stuffing his mouth full of instant ramen. "it's probably a scam or—" sunghoon remembers you asking him to tutor you. he scrambles to grab his phone, flipping it open to read your message.

"surely a scammer alright." jongseong sarcastically retorts. "shut up jay!" sunghoon yells flustered, reading the strings of messages you left to him.

(xxx) (xxx) (xxxx):

heyyyy :p it's y/n :3

turned out the deadline professor jung gave me to revise this paper in a few days (¬_¬)

soooo i was wondering if we could meet up in a couple hours ^_^ or we could do tmr cuz it’s a weekend and ur probably free ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

—

you weren't wrong.. but ouch that kinda gave sunghoon a realization that he really doesn't do anything besides studying 24/7 and being a dork with jongseong.

"no way.. you're texting a girl—!" jongseong gapes, peeking over sunghoon shoulder's to read his inbox.

"god we really are such womanless losers." sunghoon shakes his head, clicking his keyboard to respond to you.

—

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) your pov ⋆ ࣪.

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Hello Y/n

Yes. I could meet with you in a couple of hours

Your place or mine?

[you]

my roommates have company over (-.-;)y-~~~

is ur place okay ?? :D

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Yeah, that's fine with me

My roommate is home too, but don't worry, Jongseong is very quiet

My address is: ________ 8:00 just to confirm with you.

[you]

yayyyyy ok (^｡^) c u in a couple !

thx hoonie once again !! i rlly owe u 4 this (*´∀｀*)

—

you're kicking your feet up and down after confirming your plans with sunghoon, flipping your phone shut. you call for gaeul outside of the hall to tell her the news and to help you pick a outfit.. hopefully not overdoing it.

touching up your lipgloss and twirling yourself in front of your mirror to finalize your look, you're more than ready.

"don't get him too flustered y/n.. he's probably never felt the touch of a woman." gaeul warns, handing you your keys. oh how gaeul was so wrong about sunghoon..

you knock on sunghoon's door, swinging open to meet eyes with his roommate, jongseong. he stares at you in disbelief not thinking that the plans in sunghoon's inbox would actually happen. "hi! i'm y/n, is sunghoon here—?"

"no fucking way." jongseong comments, completely ignoring your question. his eyes are opened wide like saucers and all you could do it at the door step is fiddle with the bottom hem of your short pink skirt and wait.

"is she already here jay— oh. hello y/n." sunghoon sees you up close, once again. he kind of already knew you were on the way when he heard the dangling charms on your arm bag down the hall as you took your steps closer to his front door. and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you. "hi hoonie—!" you smile over at the door frame, looking over jongseong's shoulder. god that new nickname made him want to drop at his knees.

"s—sorry! i should've let you in since i've opened the door—!" jongseong stutters. you throw your manicured hand out, brushing it off. "oh it's okay jay. do you guys have any drinks—? not alcoholic or anything." you self invite yourself to open their fridge that was in the kitchen right by their entry. "um y/n." sunghoon mumbles, "hmm—?"

"please take off your shoes.." right. feeling slightly embarrassed, you say a quick apology and kick off your shoes, leaving them on the shoe mat. "don't worry about it." sunghoon reassured. walking back into the kitchen, you examine their fridge, wow. they really had a lot of choices, and a lot of food from packaged from the local convenience store. but enough of that, you settle with a strawberry milk cart and shut the fridge door.

"sooooo where are we gonna study—?" you turn to sunghoon, sipping your drink and awaiting a response. "in my room.. jay is playing a very important match of star craft in the the living room." sheepishly rubbing his head and gesturing to jay sitting on the couch, that had his eyes glued to the tv monitor as he started the game.

"okay-!" you say, following sunghoon into his room. you notice the lack of decorations, only a couple of figurines on his shelves, mainly filled with textbooks. "you sure do have a lot of dangling charms." sunghoon comments, scanning your arm bag and your phone charm.

"is it a problem—?" your eyebrows raises, eyes following sunghoon direction to your bag. "no no no! not at all, it was just an observation—!" quick to deny with no doubt.

you grin, only seeing how long it would until sunghoon gives in to your charm.

"so for this problem you can—" you interrupt sunghoon, "can we take a break?" he blinks in response, "sorry hoon i interrupted you—" "don't worry y/n. and yeah, we can take a break." your lips stretch into a little grin, getting up from where you and sunghoon were both sitting on the end of his bed, littered with papers and textbooks.

you go to his desk where you left your bag, bending over to grab a a container of green grapes. you purposely take a long time searching your bag and giving sunghoon the view of a lifetime; your mini skirt showing your little lace panties that hugged your chubby folds. sunghoon bits his lips to suppress a groan, feeling his erection growing.

sunghoon grabs a pillow to place over his lap, in hopes of his bulge would go down. you smirk to yourself, knowing that sunghoon has had more than enough time to see what was under your miniskirt. "want a grape hoonie—?" you offer, plopping yourself beside sunghoon on the end of his bed again. sunghoon nods his head.

holding out your container for him, sunghoon grabs a small handful of grapes, the both of you guys eating in silence. and you don't know what possessed you, but after the container was emptied, you lifted the pillow that was on his lap. and there behold; his boner.

he scrambles to grab the pillow again, but you grab at his wrist with your smaller hand. god did you just the veins and how thick his digits were. "y/n i'm sorry i—" sunghoon panics to find a choice of words, lucky for him, you interrupt. "you're rock hard hoonie.. because of me?"

"mmph. fuck. yeah." sunghoon groans, seeing you climb over his lap and straddle him. "let me take care of your little problem down there for you hoonie.." you offer.

"oh my god hoonie—! right there!" you moan, body perched against his bigger frame as he's stuffed two fingers deep in your sopping cunt, your panties being hooked to the side. "clenching around my fingers so tight, fuck. i knew this was planned from the start." he grunts in response, scissoring and twisting his digits.

it was so messy. you were a crying, sobbing, mess from the pleasure of sunghoon's digits hitting you so deep, reaching places you could never with your measly little hands. and never did you expect this from sunghoon..

you expected sunghoon to be a nervous, stuttering mess, but instead he was calm and collected, the one that was in control and power of letting you cum.

sunghoon's free hand was under your low-cut baby tee, grasping at your juicy tits that spilled out of your bra, taking his hand out from underneath your shirt and tugging it off and over your head, effortlessly unhooking your bra alongside it. fat tears rolling down your cheeks, smudging your eye makeup as you feel sunghoon speed the pace of his fingers, making you see stars and have you completely ruined at his mercy. breath hitching when you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap.

"just hold it out a bit longer for me, okay—?" he coos at you, tucking the strands of hair that draped over your eyes behind your ears. "hoonie please! s' so good." you babble, hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. you stretched it out so much that his collarbone showed.

a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead when sunghoon grants you permission to let go, spongy walls spasming around his digits as you crash forward and land your face against his chest. "that's it. did so well for me." sunghoon hums in satisfaction, licking your sweet release off his fingers and rubbing the side of your hips affectionately, pulling your panties back in place. you frown at sunghoon, hoping he wasn't done.

"i still haven't taken care of your problem down there.."

shuffling off his lap on the bed, you scramble and drop down to your knees; heels of your feet hitting against the plush skin of your ass. eyes looking up to sunghoon, awaiting. "shiiit, you're so pretty." he groans, seating himself up and off the edge of his bed.

looking down at you with your begging eyes that were inviting him to ruin you. and boy were you going to have such a story for gaeul when you get back home. "hoonie.. fuck my mouth?" you ask, hand reaching down to rub at your neglected clit. and who was he to refuse you, especially when you said please. pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, sunghoon is much much bigger than what you initially expected.

"oh…" your jaw almost dropping, but you contain yourself to just gulping nervously. "not big enough for you—?" he teases, hand coming down to grasp his length and pump himself as he waits for you put your mouth on him. "no.. you're too fucking big hoon. you're gonna destroy me." you rasp out, watching him take his hand off himself and replacing it with your own, making sunghoon hiss at the contact. he chuckles at your response, "we'll make it fit, don't worry— fuck—!" he moans, breath hitching when you try to take as much of his inches into your mouth, choking at about halfway. you look up, pleading for him to help you out. and so he did. hand grabbing at a chunk of your hair to create a makeshift ponytail and push his hips forward with a few experimental thrusts.

you didn't show him any signs of stopping, so sunghoon continued. he lets out a long groan feeling his tip his the back of your throat, along with the sensations of your harsh sucks. you moan around his thickness at the slight of his thick framed glasses fogging up with his heavy pants. your hands that were placed on on his thighs tapping twice to let you breathe in which he immediately pulled off of you. sunghoon holds his hand out for you grab and pull you up, wiping the saliva that was dribbling down the sides of your lips. "okay—?"

"s' okay." you giggled reassuringly, sunghoon smiles and places a kiss on your lips, and you could taste yourself from your previous orgasm from earlier against him. "think you can handle more..?" sunghoon asks with an eyebrow raised. "yeah. i want you to fuck me." you shrug, pushing him backwards so that he sat on his bed, initiating that you were gonna ride him, but no no no.

sunghoon manhandles you until your flat on your stomach. flipping your already hiked skirt up, not making much of a difference, kneading at the soft flesh of your pantie clad ass as you arch your back, wiggling yourself back at him for more. "so wet for me jesus." he grunts, pulling your now ruined paired down and over your ankles, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pulls his own shirt over his head and you oogle at his toned body, sunghoon laughs at your expression.

"only for you hoon. please. wanna feel your big dick inside me pleasepleaseplease." you beg, pushing your ass back to him in hopes he wouldn't make you wait any longer. sunghoon didn't, you look over your shoulder to see him reach over his nightstand to grab a condom, taking it out of the wrapper and placing it over him, giving a few experimental tugs before aligning the tip with your entrance. breath ragging as you feel him push in slowly, sunghoon groans alongside with your heavy breaths, the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

if this was what heaven was like, sunghoon wouldn’t ever want to leave that place.

pulling out until only his tip was left in you and plunging forward again, sunghoon finds a pace that has you screaming his name like your life depended on it. "ngh—! hoonie harder—!" you shriek, making sunghoon remember that jongseong was still in the apartment and could probably hear what the two of you have been doing. pushing your head into his pillows, he grunts, speeding up the pace of his thrusts that made pleasure seep throughout your whole body.

"god y/n. your pussy feels so fucking good." sunghoon whispers, the room filling with nothing but the slapping sounds of his hips clashing against your ass. you moan into the pillow sheets, gripping his length like a vice and sunghoon wonders if he could ever feel you around him one day without a condom in the way. his hands grip your hips so hard that you know would leave a mark.

"gonna cum hoon. i need to cum hoonie please." you whimper as you lift your head up from his pillows, sunghoon groans again, his deep strokes hitting every right spot in your body. "let go for me y/n." he says, your body gives out, your whole upper half crashing against the soft material of his mattress as you coat his condom covered dick in your creamy white substance. sunghoon stills his movements, finishing inside the condom before pulling out. taking it off of him and twisting it before tossing it in the mini trash can by his bed.

putting his boxers back on and laying himself beside you. pulling you into an embrace as he put his tshirt over your body. the room is no longer filled with a sexual atmosphere, a piercing silence filling the air.

"we didn't fully revise your paper.." sunghoon speaks up, your head resting against his panting chest. you let out a loud laugh, playfully swatting at his shoulder, "god hoon! you just fucked the living life out of me and your already all books and brains again!" "sorry sorry." he chuckles.

"mm it's okay we can revise it tomorrow." you murmur. "after you let me take you out on a date—?" you nod and place a kiss on his lips in agreement.

"you know sunghoon.. i really didn't expect you'd have it in you.." you whisper, eyes half lidded. "what? you thought i was a whimpering virgin who's never felt the touch of a woman—?"

"that's exactly what i thought."

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 28th. theodore nott. lorenzo berkshire — humiliation / degradation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: never let enzo berkshire find out about one of your kinks. unless….

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, halloween ghostface costumes, threesome, fwb!theo, bestfriend!enzo, reader is involved in a bet unbeknownst to her, mask kink, humiliation on high, degradation, fingering, denied orgasm, oral m!rec, PIV, dirty talk, manipulation.

"Black cat mask?"

You shake your head, barely sparing the thing a glance.

"Mm, no. Too unoriginal."

"Right," Enzo sucks his teeth, tossing the mask back into the bin you're both half-heartedly rifling through. "Orange cat, then? That's far more fitting for you anyways."

"Enzo—no cats, please," you mutter, running a hand through your hair, staring down at the disheveled heap of plastic. None of it catches your eye, none of it sparks anything. "It's Halloween. I want something...scarier."

"Of course. Only day of the year you get to pretend you're as terrifying as me." He croons—half-laughing through the words. The tease itches in your mind, and you're halfway to some retort when he's already holding up another mask. "How about this one?"

You glance up, ready to dismiss whatever nonsense he's holding this time, but the sight of it stills the air in your lungs. A Ghostface mask. Stark white, hollow eyes staring back at you—it's grimace cast in a faded glow under tired shop lights. It's nothing—just a mask, just a piece of cheap plastic in Enzo’s hand—but your heart skips, stumbles, clutches at your ribs, and you can't look away.

And there's no goddamn reason for it, no logic—but you're already seeing it, aren't you? Your current fwb—Theo, standing over you; his face hidden, mask in place of those half-lidded eyes that you’ve learned to read so well. And you know—you know the thought is fucking absurd—yet, it knots something in your stomach, spreading heat like a fuse just lit.

"You alright there?" Enzo's teasing pulls you out of your thoughts, and you realize he'd been staring at you that entire time. "You're looking a little...hot."

Hot. Right. Of course he'd notice—of course your best friend would notice the way you went still, frozen in place as if someone struck you with Glacius. You're no good at lying to him, not even on a good day—and right now, your mind is in shambles, already too far gone into the fantasy and—

No. No more of this.

You tear away, fumbling for the edge of a cloak that suddenly seems like the most fascinating thing you've ever seen, your fingers tracing the fabric as if it can save you.

"It's...fine—it's nice," you blurt out, too quickly, too forced, the words tumbling over themselves. "Just—no, not really my thing."

But Enzo knows better. He can spot your lies from miles away. You hear him shift, the quiet rustle of the mask in his hands—and then, he's pulling it over his face, tilting his head just to spite you.

You don't have to look to know he's smirking behind it.

"Bullshit." He steps closer, casually closing the distance, but you know it's deliberate. "You're into this, aren't you?"

The warmth on your face feels like fire now, prickling heat across your skin. He shifts closer again, and for a moment you consider jinxing him—mind scattering into dark, unbidden places—filthy, wild things, flashing behind your eyes, too real. Enzo tilts his head the other way now, letting the mask catch the light, letting it grin.

"Should I get it?" He asks, as innocent as a serial killer. "For Nott, of course."

"No."

It scrapes out of your throat, barely audible, far too small to hold truth. You’re sure he can read you right now—all your depraved thoughts in the rasp of your voice, painfully transparent.

There’s a huff, a snort of sorts. "Are you sure? I think he'd love it."

Despite his insufferableness, he’s probably right. Theo has never shied away from indulging your kinks before. That’s what no strings is about. Maybe he would love it, you know you certainly would—gods how you’d love it—even if you’d rather die before admitting it.

The cloak—you focus on the deep purple velvet, the dark lace edging. "I'm sure. Put it back."

"You don't sound so sure." Gods, he's such an asshole—point only proved further as he takes another step closer. "Does this...does this turn you on?"

"Enzo—For Godric's sake, stop." The humiliation is suffocating. This is just a glimpse at your future should you ever decide to disclose this information to him. Relentless and bloody insufferable. "Let's just—pick something and go. Please?"

A pause, then, and you don't dare look up. The mask slips from his face with another soft, satisfied hum—you don't need to see him to feel the damage done. He knows.

"Sure, angel," he says, trailing as he turns. "Whatever you want."

————

"Matt—have you seen Theo?"

"Uh—not since earlier." Mattheo replies without even looking up, his focus on pouring another dangerous looking drink rather than on you. "He's probably just out for a smoke."

Yeah. Right. Forsure—because his smoke breaks last all bloody day. Doubt twists your stomach, but you nod anyway, grabbing your own drink—something bubbling, far too bright a green to be safe, but it burns down easy all the same. The room spins in a foggy haze, lights bleeding together over costumes, wizard and Muggle and something in between—and you struggle to tell who's who.

Theo had refused to tell you what he was dressing up as—claimed he wanted it to be a surprise. Now, that surprise is nowhere to be found.

"What are you supposed to be?" You raise a brow at Mattheo's striped inmate costume. “Your future?"

Riddle's eye flash as he pretends to be offended for about two seconds until his gaze drops to your own costume and his tongue darts over his lips, taking it in. Beer-maid, tight bodice, shorter than preferred. It's not what you were going for, not in the slightest, but it's all Pansy had in her closet to save you after you and Enzo failed to find anything interesting at the shop the other day.

"Maybe. But you definitely aren't dressed as yours." His attention shifts back to the crowd, a failed attempt at hiding his grin. "Way too much fabric."

You scoff, but that's just how Mattheo is—always a sly comment, always pushing. You roll your eyes and swat at him, but he sticks his tongue out at you and steps back, slipping off into the crowd with a final goodbye wink—and just as you lose track of him, Draco saddles up next to you, prattling on about something you don't care to listen to.

Great, that’s two annoying Slytherins accounted for. Where the fuck is Theo?

Five seconds into pretending to be interested in whatever Malfoy is babbling on about, you give up, turning back to the drink table and skimming over the options when someone new brushes up behind you—

"Enzo told me," the words barely register before you feel it—a hand settling low at your hip. "About your kink."

With lightening speed you twist your neck, glancing over your shoulder—only to fucking gasp at what you find there. That mask. The mask. The Ghostface one from the shop; the one Enzo hasn't let you forget, hasn't stopped teasing you about—you blink, your heart barrelling out of the room, fingers tightening around your cup until it hurts—

The mask tilts, just slightly. "Looks like he was right."

"Theo—"

"Go." His voice is muffled, but sweet Merlin—the sound of it makes your knees threaten to buckle right then and there. His hand slips lower, teasing against the ruffles of your dress. "Run, Bella. Let's play."

Your body locks up, muscles tense and poised on the edge of something feral. You can't look away. Can't think. Can't breathe. His fingers slip lower, lower, until you feel it—cold leather against the heat of your skin and your throat tightens, words dying dead on your tongue.

Run.

A slight lean, and the mask brushes your neck. "Now."

He steps back, a slow retreat, but it feels like he's tugging you with him. You spin to face him, smirking, your voice barely above a whisper—

"And when you catch me?"

"Find out." His head tilts toward the door. It's your cue.

Your feet move before your mind even catches up, slipping through the rowdy crowd, darting through the half-drunk revelers in their costumes—everything blurring into an afterthought as you push past the cobwebs, pumpkins, fake spiders, all the other Halloween decor filling the fogged ballroom. Your fingertips buzz from the adrenaline—pulse echoing in your ears as you dart down one hall after another, not quite sure where you're going, but knowing you need to keep moving.

Theo told you to run—so you run.

You sprint through the castle, the corridors empty save for your hurried footsteps and the scattered Halloween decorations lunging at you from the shadows. You round a corner, making for the dungeons. It's as good a place as any, right? Dark, quiet, somewhere to hide.

Few more minutes and you make it, lungs burning as you stumble into the dreary main hall. You realize the detention room is empty—and it's perfect. You take two steps inside, already thinking you'll be able to catch your breath when—

You slam headlong into something solid.

Head swirling, your vision barely refocuses before you feel a grip on your wrists, pulling you forward with enough force to make you gasp. Everything happens so fast you don't have enough time to process what's occurring before you're forced to focus on the thing you're seeing—ghostface. Staring down at you with those empty, gaping eyes. Unreadable.

It's then that you realize you're caught.

Something shifts behind the mask, an almost imperceptible movement of his head. You'd almost think you imagined it but given that there's nothing else to look at you know it's impossible. The silence is ballooning and you wonder if this is part of the game, if Theo is just savouring the moment, relishing in your reaction. The way you're trembling, your breath stuttering, the way you've gone still—waiting.

You swallow, throat drier than the Sahara, but something about this has you emboldened, the fact he's playing into your fantasy like this—so you decide to tease him, breaking the silence with a soft, breathless laugh as you pull one of your hands free from his grip.

He wanted to play. It's your turn to act the part.

"Looks like you caught me...Mr. Ghostface..." you purr—the silence sticks heavy, making the space between you feel thick, electric. All you can feel are his eyes devouring you. "And now...now that you've caught me...what are you gonna' do with me...hm?"

Gods—the thrill of this is so real, one your certain is more addictive than any drug. An adrenaline rush—not knowing what he's thinking, what he's about to do. Not being able to read him like you normally could. It makes your thighs quake—and there’s half a second where you wonder how much Enzo would pay to see this, how much he’d fucking taunt you for it.

But just as quickly as it came, you shake that thought—focused on Theo, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and sink to your knees, fingertips teasing from his chest to his abdomen, tilting your head to look up at him through your lashes.

"...please don't punish me." You giggle—and the debauched absurdity of it all makes you nearly choke. "I'll be so good—I'll do anything, Theo—"

You feel him huff, tense, and when your fingers graze the front of his pants—just barely touching his crotch— his hand snaps down like a vice, gripping your wrist, stopping you dead in your tracks.

And then, you hear it. "Salazar sakes—shit—"

Your heart plummets. That voice—it's like being thrown into ice-cold water. No, that's not—it can't be—

"Enzo?"

Your voice cracks as you all but screech, your head whipping up so fast you feel dizzy. No, no, no—

Enzo, who you previously thought was Theo, pulls the mask off and all but verbally confirms it. Your nightmare born to life. Spooling to fruition right in front of you. He smiles, lips curled into something thoroughly entertained, and gods, how his eyes glint with pure assholery—you could fucking kill him.

"Enzo—" you stammer, horror flushing through you, burning through the mortification lodged in your throat. "Gods—what the fuck—"

"Surprise," he breathes, like this is the most casual thing in the world to him.

You scramble back, knees scraping against cold stone—mind spiralling in every direction at once—shame collides with shock and it all burns under your skin, the kind of heat that never settles. You know Theo's voice. You could never mistake it. You know for a fact that was him back at the party— but this, this makes no sense.

"What...what the hell-" your voice stumbles like you're trying to outrun the words. "Why would you—what were you—"

"Relax," he is all too fucking calm. "It was a prank."

"A prank?" You're still on the floor, and for some reason that makes everything worse. "You call that a prank? A—a funny little joke?"

"That's usually the definition—"

"No." You hiss between clenched teeth, anger strangling any hope for composure. "What were you doing in here? This— this isn't—you were trying to-"

"Trying to what?" He sounds so goddamn innocent but you know better. He's toying with you, making sure you know it. He's been your best friend since you were kids but you never said it was by choice. He steps closer. "I was trying to what, angel?"

Your blood boils, the heat spreading fast—pooling low in your core against all specks of your sanity. He's relishing this, drinking in your mortification like it's fine wine—and for some reason, it makes you weak.

"You—" words die with another one of his steps, the toes of his shoes brushing against your skin as he crouches down in front of you, elbows resting casually on his knees. You sit back, ass meeting cold stone. "Enzo—"

"Yeah?" He cocks an eyebrow. "You just gonna' parrot my name all night? Maybe you're too embarrassed to speak?"

The constant mocking feels like ice and you want to slap that smug look right off his face but instead your fucking thighs tense. You have nothing to say—can only stare at him, lungs seizing further as you notice the smirk fading from his lips, something darker replacing it—

"You didn't even know who was under that mask, and you were ready to suck me off," he's whispering, but he may as well be screaming. "You'd do anything for anyone with a mask, huh? I wish I knew about this kink of yours sooner."

He leans in closer, his knees pushing yours apart—you and Enzo had never been strangers to toying the line of friendship one too many times while drunk, but this—

You blink. Staring at him. "You...you're enjoying this way too much."

"Guilty as charged." His smile spreads wider, cockier, his eyes dipping to your lips, then lower. You shiver involuntarily. "I know I should have stopped you sooner, but seeing you on your knees...in front of me...I just..."

He shakes his head before he slowly stands back up—and his eyes flicker to your chest, lingering on your fucking tits and not even trying to be subtle about it.

Then, there’s a sound—the sound of the door creaking open.

You barely hear it, the faint shuffle of footsteps, but it's enough to pull the grin from Enzo's face as he looks up. You're not sure your heart can handle anymore of this—plummeting to the stone beneath you as Theo steps into the room, dressed just like Enzo—black robes, black gloves, Ghostface mask.

"Nott." Enzo's voice is too casual, too easy. "Great timing, mate."

Theo’s silent as he takes in the scene. You—still on the floor, dress hitched up, legs spread. Enzo standing over you, smug, unbothered. Theo's presence fills the room as he shuts the door behind him and locks it, stoking your humiliation into something even hotter, something impossible to escape.

Theo's voice is flat, his tone too even. "Looks like you got caught."

Wait—

"You—" your gaze jumps between them, a wild panic bubbling up inside you. You're so fucking confused. "What is this? You two—"

"Like I said, a prank." Enzo says as he steps toward Theo, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "A bet, really.”

Theo doesn't respond. He doesn't move. He doesn't look away from you.

"A bet?" You choke out, trying to piece everything together. "What bet?"

"Well, you see, angel," Enzo pushes away from Theo and slumps down into a chair just off to the side of you. You feel the dread rolling in like a storm. "I bet big Theo here you'd get so weak in the knees over the mask, you wouldn't even notice the switch. As usual, I was right."

Andddd, there’s the dread. Yup. As expected whenever Enzo is fucking involved in anything.

"Oh, wow—" you'd laugh if you weren't this utterly mortified by the entire situation. "You guys are—gods. You’re going after a whole new high score in the prick olympics, aren't you—"

"Oh, I don't know if you believe that, topolina...I think you're just being shy." Theo cuts through your rambling and you flinch at the sound of his voice. "It's clear this is a fantasy of yours."

Your head tilts up, eyes widening as they meet the empty, hollow eyes of the mask drawing closer.

"I bet you're just embarrassed," Theo's pressing—he's fucking pressing and you don’t think you’ve breathed since he walked in. "Embarrassed that you got on your knees for your best friend...or maybe you're afraid I'd be mad." He pauses, and his gaze sweeps down over you. "Which, to that I'd have to say, I'm far from."

You swallow hard, your mouth dry. "You're...you're not mad?"

Perhaps you were afraid of that—even if you and Theo are unofficial in every aspect.

His answer is instant. "No."

He crouches in front of you, gloved fingers finding your chin, tipping your head up so he can look at you— really look at you.

"In fact...I think you should let him watch..." his thumb ghosts over your lower lip, so soft, so slow—without thinking, your tongue flicks out, barely grazing the leather covered tip, and you hear the soft exhale he releases in response. "After all, this was his idea. He deserves some fun too, don't you think?"

Heat floods your cunt, your stomach tightening at the suggestion. You glance at Enzo, sitting back now with his mask on—legs spread wide, leather hands clasped, calm—you wanted to kill him five minutes ago, but now—

Oh gods—you're really losing it.

"Yeah," you whisper, barely managing the word. "He probably does."

Theo's hand slides down to your thigh, leather fingers curling into the soft skin, pulling your legs open further.

"Mhm." He mutters. "You like being watched, don't you?"

Your breath catches, your pulse thundering in your ears as you nod, your eyes glued to Enzo. "Yes..."

"Say it." His fingers trail higher, teasing the soft skin beneath your dress, fingertips grazing closer—too close—just below the lace hem of your panties.

Salazar save you.

You bite your lip, and the air between you feels like it's thickening, growing too dense to breathe in. That fucking mask. You've fantasized over it. And now, there's two of them. Two sets of eyes—faceless, emotionless, and watching you. It's like something out of your fucking dreams.

"I—I like being watched," you manage to whisper, voice breaking between building lust.

"Louder," Theo growls this time like he's pulling it from somewhere deep in his chest—it sends liquid heat spilling through you. "Louder, topolina. He can't hear you if you're whispering."

Your heart stutters in your chest, and Enzo—gods, Enzo is still watching—stays silent, the mask concealing whatever reaction he might have, but his posture speaks volumes. Stillness, dark fabric of his trousers tight across his thighs, a coiled tension that radiates off him, permeates the space between you.

"I—fuck—" a breathless moan cracks through your words as Theo's leather-clad fingers slip under your panties, grazing your slick slit. "—love it. I love being watched."

Theo hums, the sound vibrating low in his throat, and rewards you by pushing two fingers into your dripping heat. So slow, the pace of his strokes torturous—slick sounds of leather working you open filling the room, mingling with your quiet, shuddering breaths. His thumb brushes your clit, teasing over it until you moan—hard and shameless—

"So loud," Theo mocks, your spine arching into him as his fingers curl inside you. "Eager, filthy little thing. You love being on display, don't you?"

A whimper catches in your throat, your gaze still locked on Enzo, watching him watch you.

You're shaking. You're close. Too close.

Your voice cracks again, nothing more than a whisper caught in a moan. "Theo...fuck—"

"You're so wet, bellissima," Theo breathes behind the mask. You're burning, every nerve sizzling. "You want to cum, don't you?"

You can't speak. Words don't exist anymore, only the pressure—only the way Theo's fingers curl inside you, the way your thighs tremble and ache from holding yourself open, from being watched, from being this goddamn humiliated.

"Y-yes," you choke out, desperate. "Yes, please, I—"

"Ask him." Theo's cuts you off. "Ask Enzo to let you cum."

The room spins. The air thickens into something cloying.

Ask him. Ask Enzo—

You swallow hard, your eyes darting between the two masks. Enzo is silent, still motionless, but he tilts his head slightly, the only indication that he's heard. That he's waiting.

"Please, Enzo—" the humiliation is sickening but you force past it. It’s a broken prayer, vulnerability in verbal form. "Please...let me cum—please—"

Time stretches. It feels like hours, an eternity where nothing exists but the weight of their hidden eyes on you, the way Enzo's fingers twitch, curl over the thick ridge at his crotch, leather knuckles tensing as if he's restraining himself from something primal. You're being devoured whole by this moment—by the unbearable tension, by Theo's fingers inside you, relentless in their assault, and gods—you're going to die if they don't let you—

"Yeah," Enzo finally murmurs, breaking the silence. Theo's gaze flickers to him, waiting. "Yeah, you can cum, angel…”

But as he says it, he shakes his head, and Theo—the absolute bastard—pulls his fingers out without a word.

"…just not yet." Enzo finishes.

The sound that leaves your throat isn't even human, some guttural, helpless whine torn straight from your throbbing, empty cunt. Theo shushes you.

"You'll get to cum, Bella," he coos, standing up slowly. "It'll be soon."

They're toying with you, playing you like a goddamn puppet on strings and it's infuriating in its deliciousness. You've known these men for years, yet it's almost laughable—the way they feel so foreign, so terrifyingly new.

"Oh, Enzo," you sigh, feeling your arousal cool, your body suddenly aware of the icy stone beneath you, of the wet heat slicking down your thighs. "I'm going to kill you tomorrow."

Enzo snorts. "You're welcome to try."

Theo exhales a half-chuckle, helping you off the floor and onto a desk, his hands firm on your thighs as he spreads you open like he's done a hundred times within the last few months.

A moment passes before he moves to loosen his belt and you realize just how close Enzo is now—his chair right beside the desk, his hand palming the bulge in his pants, shameless in his observation. The sight makes you fucking dizzy with filth. Surely, you've lost your mind. This is madness. Every line between friendship and lust—between restraint and indulgence—has blurred and bled into something you can't define, and the thrill of it is intoxicating.

"This is insane," you hiss, breathless, feeling the way Theo's gloves scrape over your skin, two thick digits dragging in your slick. "You're both fucking insane."

"Too much talking," Theo mutters, so infuriatingly calm, even as he drags the head of his dick over your folds, teasing your clit. "So much attitude for someone dripping down their thighs. You want to stop?" The silence stretches, your eyes locked on his, and you can feel the smirk behind the mask. He nods. "That's what I thought. Now shut up and let me fuck this wet cunt."

His hands grip either side of the desk, his body looming over you—the scene from your fantasy you've envisioned a million times. Ghostface—dominant and rough—gods, you want it. So bad it fucking hurts.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes immediately finding Enzo's again—forgetting for half a second that he was even there. His jeans are unbuttoned now, his hand moving rhythmically beneath the denim, mask locked onto you with a single-minded focus that makes your breath stutter.

"Enz-ohhh—" you go to say something to him, but then Theo pushes into you—no warning, no slow build—just a deep, unforgiving thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs, and your voice cracks on his name, the syllables lost in the moan that spills out of you.

"Shit." Enzo groans in response. "Did you just—"

"She did," Theo snarls, his grip on your hips punishing as he slams into you again, harder this time. "The little slut just moaned your name."

There's cursing, from both of them, but it's all a blur in your ears, drowned out by the sound of Theo's hips slamming into yours, the fevered slap of skin on skin, the obscene sounds you can't help but make—

"Yeah, I noticed," Enzo mutters, and fuck, he sounds ruined, completely lost in the sight of you—his best friend, getting fucked by his other best friend. "Fuck."

Theo's hand finds your jaw, forcing your head back to face him, Ghostface mask looming above you like a delicious nightmare.

"Who's fucking you?" His voice is caught somewhere between a snarl and a purr. "Is it Enzo?"

"N-no—" you manage, trembling with every thrust.

"Of course it's not," Theo hisses, driving into you with punctual thrusts to make you feel him, making you cry out when he slams your cervix. "So why'd you moan his name? When it's—fuck—my cock inside you?"

"I—I didn't mean—" you whimper, eyes squeezed shut, but there's no escape. Not from the relentless pace of Theo's dick, not from the way Enzo's eyes never leave you, burning into you like fire. You can't form words.

"Mm—don't be shy now, topolina," Theo purrs, his voice thick with effort. His hips snap forward, and your back arches, a broken sound escaping you. "I think you just love having him in your mouth—his name, his—"

"Fuck, Nott, shut up," Enzo cuts in, his head thrown back, chest tense. "I don't want to hear your voice—"

You can hear the strain, the way he's barely holding it together—

"Look at him," Theo ignores Enzo's words. He lets go of your jaw. "He wants you. He's always wanted you."

Your eyes dart between them, head spinning, unable to form a coherent thought—Theo's fucking relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge—and every time you glance at Enzo, you see the way he's breaking, hand moving faster, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths—

"I never knew you were such a voyeur, Nott," Enzo spits, trying to sound casual. "Never took you for being such a filthy bastard."

"What can I say?" Theo groans in response, propping your legs up over his shoulders to drive into you deeper. "Just discovered a new interest, you should try it sometime."

They're still bantering, like this is some kind of fucked-up competition, like you're not about to shatter into a million fucking pieces while your best friend watches—after he got you here and humiliated you with a fucking bet—gods, you'd laugh if you weren't so utterly lost to the pleasure ripping through you.

"And watch you get off on it?" Enzo spits back, voice rough. "I'll—"

Theo snorts, cutting him off. "I think there's more than one person getting off on—"

"Shut the-fffuck up—please-" you manage to moan, the words barely intelligible. You look to Enzo, eyes wide and pleading. "Enz...come here."

"Yeah...?" Enzo breathes out, his voice catching, tipping his head back forward to look at you. “What?”

"Come here," you moan again, trembling, fraying under the pleasure that's building inside you from Theo’s insistent dick. "Let me help you."

For a moment, he hesitates, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking because the goddamn mask hides everything. He's always been the calm one between you—always stopping your drunk kisses, always refraining from taking things too far. But tonight, there’s no more of that calm left in him—

He stands.

Each step he takes feels like a lifetime, but when he's standing next to your head on the desk, towering above where you're laid out like a feast, you don't know whether it's the mask or the situation itself that has your pulse racing. Erotic and terrifying, the not-knowing—a power exchange in its purest form. Theo growls infront of you, his thrusts growing harder, more vicious, as you reach out to pull Enzo's hips closer.

You're already eyeing the throbbing bulge in his jeans, your mouth practically watering as you stare.

"Go on," you rasp, lips parting as you look up through your lashes. "Take it out."

The breath Enzo sucks in is sharp, a hitch in the darkness. His fingers tremble, just barely, as he pushes his pants down his thighs, and the noise that escapes him when his cock slips out and smacks his stomach—low, strangled—makes you moan and clench in response—he's huge.

Your breath catches, a soft exhale of, "oh, fuck."

And the words are barely out of your mouth before both Theo and Enzo respond—low growls and breathless groans that echo in the shadowed room, vibrating through you like electricity.

"Open your pretty mouth," Enzo whispers and you obey without hesitation, tongue slipping out, wanting, eager. His breath shudders, and you wish you could see his eyes. "Good girl."

And then he's pushing into you, sliding hot and thick over your tongue, and at that exact moment, Theo thrusts harder, deeper, and suddenly you're overwhelmed—both of them inside you, filling you, consuming every breath. Moans ripple through the dungeon air, a chorus of sin, and you shake with the sheer intensity of it all.

Theo's thumb finds your clit, starts swirling over it, and you keen—eyes rolling back in your head, Enzo’s leather hands in your hair to hold you still. Tears stream down your face as you gag, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but neither of them stop—if anything, they're both lost in it, in the wrecked, messy beauty of it all. Your hands claw at the desk, desperate for something to hold on to as the pleasure builds, tightens, spirals out of control.

Time collapses. It's been moments—it's been hours.

And then it happens—all three of you tipping over the edge at once, crashing into a release so fierce it shatters you. Your climax rips through you, violent, leaving you shaking, milking Theo until he's spent—until he's pouring his cum deep inside your cunt at the same time Enzo groans deep and spills his own over your tongue. A moment passes, and then Theo is the first to pull away, panting, tearing off his mask and dropping into the chair beside the desk, and Enzo follows, tugging his jeans back up before slumping into another chair, mask still on—

Both of them are sprawled there, utterly spent, just as wrecked as you.

And then, after a few long, tense moments, you hear it—the clink of Galleons exchanged. You don't even need to look up for it to register. Theo tosses the coins into Enzo’s greedy palm because he was the true fucking winner here. The sound cuts through the stillness, and with it, that smug, unmistakable sneer in Enzo's voice.

"Told you she'd love it."

Asshole.

You roll your eyes. Your limbs feel like they're moving through molasses as you stand, your hands mechanically fixing your costume, adjusting the fabric against your thighs.

"You know, Enzo, if you wanted to watch Theo fuck me that bad, all you had to do was ask."

"What can I say," he shrugs, lazy, like he's discussing the weather. "I enjoy a bit of gambling."

Theo snorts, adjusting his collar, as if none of this fazes him. His eyes flick from you to Enzo. "Next time you'll be paying me."

"Next time?" You cock an eyebrow. "How generous of you."

"There will be a next time," Enzo says, flipping one of the Galleons between his fingers, that same smirk playing on his lips. "And I'll get my turn."

Your pulse quickens at the sheer arrogance of it, the way he says it like it's not even up for debate. You hate how much you like this side of him.

"Maybe next time you should."

They nod, both of them wearing their smirks like crowns. "Until next time, then."

[lisired]

DREAM BOYS: slut me out

pairing: shy!jisung x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (before you tap it make sure you wrap it), oral (m) receiving, switch!jisung, switch!reader (at least i think so… i wanna say there’s not really strong dom/sub dynamics here)

summary: The Dream Boys are notorious for banging everything on campus with a pulse and breaking hearts, but every time you see Jisung, you can’t help but think he’s nothing like them; he can barely even look into your eyes.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: i wrote this on a whim lol. as always, feedback is appreciated!

If I was a bad bitch,

I’d wanna fuck me too

There was something about Park Jisung that confused you to no end. 

For one, you wondered how a boy could be so awkward. You weren’t even this bad at your peak of social ineptitude, but he somehow seemed to always be shy and blushing. 

The most baffling thing about him, however, wasn’t just his timid personality and lack of confidence around the opposite sex. It was his ability to get along so well with people who were the complete opposite of him. 

Everybody at your school knew him and his friends collectively as the Dream Boys and they were notorious on campus for allegedly fucking every girl they set their sights on. You had no way of knowing how true that was, but based on nothing but vibes alone, most of them you didn’t doubt one bit. 

Mark, the sweet boy who posted bible quotes on his story every morning. Jeno, the intelligent one who obviously didn’t buy his way into college. Jaemin, the campus heartthrob everyone wanted to bring home to Mama. And Haechan, the party boy who was never not hungover. 

But Jisung was something different entirely. You had no idea why he hung out with them at all. Your interactions with him had been limited thus far, but he stammered out every sentence he spoke and could hardly maintain eye contact. 

There was no way in hell he was a whore. 

The school library had unfortunately become your second home over the past few weeks and you were lounging at a table with your friends when Ryujin whispered, “Looks like the Dream Boys are throwing another Halloween party this year. I hope there’s no more cum punch rumors. I almost threw up because of that shit.”

Yuna winced. Those rumors had positively ruined the drinking last year for everybody. “Dream Boys? More like fuckboys.”

You snickered. You didn’t have a clue where the name came from, but you couldn’t resist quipping, “And what did you think they dreamed about?”

“Pussy,” she answered without hesitation.

You laughed again. The boys were handsome, you would give them that, but they also gave the impression that they were carrying sexually transmitted infections yet to be unearthed by health authorities. 

Ryujin seemed like she was reading from her phone, probably gathering more information about the aforementioned party, and soon enough she chirped, “No worries, guys. Haechan just posted that there will not be any cum punch, but everyone should watch their drink.”

“I won’t be attending,” you replied with total disinterest. “Have fun potentially drinking some random dude’s kids.”

Ryujin groaned, but she had been expecting that response. It was no secret you had something against those boys because of their fuckboy reputation and while she didn’t blame you for that, she didn’t see it as an excuse to skip out on harmless fun. “You’re so boring.”

You shrugged, indifferent. “If boring means spending my free time watching Shemar Moore chase bad guys in two different universes, both of which he’s incredibly sexy in, instead of risking my tongue falling off, then I’ll be that.”

“You both are disgusting,” Yuna said in disapproval. “You want to fuck someone’s bald dad and Ryujin wants to fuck Haechan.”

Ryujin gawked. “That’s a lie!”

Yuna wasn’t convinced. “Admit it. The only reason you want to go to this party after last year’s fiasco is because you know Haechan will be there and you want to suck his dick until the foreskin dries up like a raisin.”

You made a face. The graphic description was putting unholy pictures in your mind that you would rather not see. “Yeah, I’m gonna go. You girls got that,” you told them as you rose from the table, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I will see you guys when I emerge from my Netflix binging.”

Meanwhile, Jisung was by himself in the break room of the local cafe he worked at trying desperately to think of something that would undo the boner in his pants before his co-workers saw him and teased him to hell and back. It wasn’t even because of a pretty customer this time. He was just daydreaming. 

Was it a smart thing to do while he was at work? No, maybe not. But he couldn’t help it. His mind had been filled with perverted thoughts lately. It was the second week of October and Jisung was attempting to get all of the sexual frustration out of his system before the start of No Nut November.

He had been the first one to lose last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. This year, he needed a turnaround. 

When his boner wouldn’t go down as soon as he’d hoped, Jisung ultimately decided to go wank it in the bathroom as quietly as possible and got back to work. And to his luck, you were standing right there at the counter waiting for someone to take your order. 

Jisung swallowed when he saw you. He had always found you gorgeous and seeing you after orgasming made his brain short-circuit. With a little plan to increase his body count another digit, he went up to the counter and put on his shyest performance. “Hello. What can I get for you today?”

Your brows furrowed. He didn’t sound as bashful as he looked. That said, he sounded like he was donning his customer service voice, and everybody knew that the person you were at work didn’t reflect your true self. “Hi, can I get the Jasmine green tea, please?”

Jisung kept his eyes trained to the screen the entire time, even though he wanted nothing more than to look at you. “Sure thing. Would you like any add-ons?”

“Tapioca pearls. Extra, please.”

God, the way you kept saying, “Please,” was driving him crazy. He knew you were simply being polite, which was more than he could say about some customers he got, but it was making him picture other situations where he could have you begging for him. 

“Will that be everything?” Jisung asked as if his thoughts hadn’t wandered somewhere dangerous.

You nodded your head, taking out your card. “That’s it.”

While you were temporarily distracted by having to pay, Jisung took the opportunity to get a better look at you. His eyes flitted to your lips that were coated in a clear gloss which made them look plumper. It was all he could do not to think about how perfect they would look wrapped around his cock.

“I heard you and your friends are throwing a party tonight,” you mentioned, waiting for your order to be processed. Not that you gave a damn. You just wanted something to talk about. 

Jisung was pleased you didn’t seem to notice his less than clean thoughts, but when you mentioned the party, he stifled a groan. “Yeah, I can’t go. I have a closing shift.”

“Damn, that must suck,” you replied, watching the hint of annoyance spread across his face. “When do you guys close, by the way? I was thinking about getting some work done.”

“We close at nine,” Jisung told you matter-of-factly. “Don’t you usually work in the library?”

You lifted a brow, smiling softly. “Are you keeping tabs?”

Jisung glanced away. Make no mistake, he wasn’t stalking you or anything, but he did happen to see you in the library whenever he popped inside. You were there more often than not. “I see you around every now and then.”

You hummed. “To answer your question, I do usually work in the library, but my friends are being insufferable today and I knew I wasn’t gonna get any work done around them, so I hopped ship.”

Jisung nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get it. My friends are pretty annoying at times too.”

You had an obvious disdain for boys in his group, but for some reason, you were always so nice to him. It was almost as if you had some kind of soft spot. Jisung wondered if he could manipulate that kindness. He figured you must have assumed he wasn’t as bad as the men he surrounded himself with, which couldn’t have been more wrong, but you didn’t need to know that. 

There was no opportunity for you to give him a response, because his co-worker placed your drink in front of you, saying, “Here you go, one Jasmine green tea, extra tapioca pearls.”

You thanked them and glanced back at Jisung, telling him, “I’m gonna go find a seat,” and walked away. 

Jisung was disappointed, but it was better than you leaving. And in truth, it wasn’t so bad, because it gave him a little more time to think of a way of getting you to go home with him. He didn’t want to lose for the fourth year in a row since he started college, and you were a beautiful girl that thought highly of him for whatever reason. 

You were still lingering in the cafe a few hours later and it was that time of night where Jisung had to start excessively wiping counters to appear busy, because he didn’t expect many more customers. 

But you were the only customer in sight and he was the only employee at this hour, so he approached your table and inhaled a deep breath. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

You glanced up at him, wanting to giggle at how nervous he seemed for whatever reason, but resisting. “Sure.”

Jisung started fidgeting with the rings on his long fingers, which drew your attention to his hands, specifically how big they were. “Can I sit down?”

You wordlessly nodded over at the seat in front of you. 

With one more small glance in the direction of the door, which didn’t appear to be welcoming more customers any time soon, Jisung slid into the booth. You both sat there in silence until he finally willed himself to speak. “So, I was wondering… can I ask you a favor?”

You were tempted to respond with, I wasn’t aware I owed you any. But you were very curious to know where this was going, so you decided to let him get straight to the point. “Depends. What’s the favor?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” he asked. 

“Sure, I’ll promise,” you replied, nodding. “As long as you’re not about to ask me to hide a body.”

That threw Jisung off guard and he quickly shook his head. “What? No, of course not. Look, uh, I need a favor from you, but it’s something kinda…”

Pushing down the top of your laptop, you held your face in your hands and gave Jisung your undivided attention. You were beginning to suspect that it was a favor of a sexual nature. 

When you looked at him like that, Jisung glanced away. “It’s kinda embarrassing to say, but I was wondering… if I could come to your house.”

Now that was definitely a surprise. “My house?”

Jisung nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering. I’m sorry, I know it’s weird. I just…”

Your brows furrowed. Jisung had been to your apartment before. Once. Twice, if you counted him having to come back because he forgot his notebook. Either way, you weren’t necessarily friends and it only happened because of an assignment, the fact that the library had been completely packed, and your apartment was nearby. 

“Why?”

“Well… I wanted to know if you could help me with something.”

“You’re so vague,” you teased. “What do you need?”

Jisung exhaled a breath and decided he was just going to come out and say what he meant. “Listen, this is gonna be kinda weird, and if you say no I completely understand and will leave you alone for the rest of my life. But me and my friends are preparing for No Nut November and…”

“And you want to get all of the horny juice out of your system so you don’t nut on the first day like a loser,” you finished for him. It wasn’t that hard to guess, all things considered. “You know it doesn’t work like that, right?”

“It does,” he insisted. He said nothing else, waiting for you to either agree to blessing his cock tonight or let him suffer, and hoping you chose the former. 

You had already made your mind up, but you pretended to be uncertain, shrugging your shoulders. “Why me?”

Much to your surprise, Jisung didn’t skip a beat. “You’re the only girl I didn’t think would judge me.”

And that was exactly how he won you over, because you hurriedly began packing up your things to go home and get a shower before Jisung could get there. Maybe shave too. You didn’t go bald, but a little trim had never hurt anybody. 

Almost the very second his shift ended, Jisung was in his car growing increasingly more frustrated at every encountered red light as he drove as fast as he possibly could without going over the speed limit. 

When he rang the doorbell, you almost immediately answered the door, wearing nothing but a shirt that looked far too big for someone of your stature. “What took you so long?” you asked, widening the door so he could enter. 

“Lots of traffic tonight,” Jisung replied, waltzing inside your house as if his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest at the idea of getting fucked. 

You closed the door and led him to the bedroom. The soft, feminine smell of your body wash clung to you and the scent was already driving him crazy with lust. 

Jisung glanced around your bedroom, happy to be back here again. The last time he was inside your bedroom, he’d seen your panties spilling out of their drawer and it had taken everything in him to focus on the assignment at hand. 

His eyes fell to your delicious legs which were smooth and shiny. No doubt you had just gotten out of the shower. You got ready for him, which had to count for something. You had consented to fucking him, after all, so your interest in him couldn’t have been any more blatant. 

You plopped on your bed, noticing the way he was drinking in the sight of you. “Don’t just stand there,” you said, stifling a giggle. 

Jisung swallowed the unignorable lump in his throat. “What do you want me to do?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Come here.”

He took tentative steps towards your bed. It was adorably pink and fluffy, and he almost felt bad for knowing it was going to be ruined by the time he returned home. Then, he started thinking about what else was pink, and from that point on his mind began reeling with lewd thoughts. 

You had to pull Jisung onto the bed, shoving him onto his back. The gasp he made was cut off by your lips smashing against his as you kissed him like your life depended on it, gently tugging on his black hair. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, that was exactly what you wanted. 

It pleasantly surprised you that Jisung was a decent kisser. You could tell he had some kind of experience, which was fair since he was a grown man with very obvious needs, and your panties were pooling with arousal when his hands drifted to your waist as you straddled him, pulling you flush against his rapidly hardening cock. 

As if he wasn’t already struggling to breathe enough, you broke the kiss and began trailing your lips faintly over his jaw. Then his neck. Then his collarbone. He figured you would go down again to his chest, but you went back to his throat and started sucking and nibbling at the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Jisung panted, already worked up and you had barely done anything together so far. He was sure you could feel how hard he was, given that he was pressed right against you, but you went about kissing him as if you had no clue. 

His reactions did make you giggle smugly though, quite proud of yourself. The marks you were leaving at the base of his neck were going to be there for days. Maybe weeks. The room felt hotter now that you were making such a mess of him. He brought his hands up from your perfect waist to your under your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your breasts. 

It was your turn to gasp out. The soft sounds you made did wonders to turn him on. He cupped your chest in his big palms and let his thumb work over the stiffened nipple. All the while, you were beginning to grind against his bulge as your lips wandered here and there, drawing a guttural groan from Jisung’s throat. 

“Oh my god,” he said, stilling your hips with his strong hands. Something your body liked more than you cared to admit.

You met his eyes. They were filled with lust and desire and impatience. “Are you okay?”

Jisung nodded his head, glancing at your body. He was hoping you would get out of that shirt sooner than later. He wanted to see you. “It’s just…,” he trailed, his voice faint. “I’ve never done this before.”

You didn’t gawk. You didn’t laugh. There was no amusement nor was there any surprise. “That’s okay. We can take things slow, if you want.”

“I’d rather not. I like things fast,” Jisung insisted. 

You laughed. “Well, that can be arranged too. Have you ever had a blowjob?”

The thought of you sucking his cock alone nearly made a cold shudder wreck through Jisung’s body. “Once,” he said, trying to keep his composure. “It was a long time ago.”

“Now, we can’t have that,” you replied, crawling off of him to bring your attention to the very prominent bulge in his pants. You could tell he was big and that thought had you salivating. 

Jisung undid his pants hurriedly and tossed them to the ground like they meant nothing, giving you plenty enough time to ruffle through your drawer for something to tie your hair back with. 

With your hair out of the way, you patiently sat on your knees as he got just naked enough that you would be able to suck him off. Maybe deep down you had always wanted to. Jisung was exactly the type of guy you were into - the ones that looked away when a pretty girl complimented them and had a beautiful, shy smile. 

It didn’t surprise you that his cock was just as veiny as his hands were, but it did make your mouth run dry. 

“Sweet Jesus,” you mumbled underneath your breath, knowing that you were in for a treat. 

Jisung resisted a smirk. He knew he had a brag-worthy cock that was enough to make any woman lose her everlasting mind, whether she was going down on him or he was going inside her. You were no exception. Matter of fact, all it took was one look before you got a hold of his cock and spat on his pretty tip. 

He swore quietly, watching you attentively. There wasn’t even a need to get him hard because he had already stiffened from the way you were kissing him and grinding against his dick, so you got straight to work. 

You skipped the slow parts - the teasing bits with your tongue at the tip and base of his cock, and immediately went to the action. Jisung said he liked things fast and so that was exactly what you would give him. And he was going to take it like he’d asked.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck,” he cursed, clutching the sheets. You weren’t wasting any time and he almost couldn’t believe it. 

You hadn’t even waited before taking as much of him into your mouth as you could and that made Jisung’s head spin like he was about to explode. And in a way, that wasn’t necessarily untrue. He already knew this was going to be one of his shorter experiences, but definitely one of his better orgasms. 

Jisung groaned loudly. It was a shock, because he was one of the quietest boys you’d ever met, so it wasn’t too hard for you to guess that he was currently enjoying himself. The sound of his euphoric noises were making you horny and you could feel your panties getting even wetter. 

You wanted to fuck him so bad. It was killing you right now. He was just so perfect; so handsome and cute and easy to provoke. You wanted to draw the most sexy, uncontrollable reactions from him and watch what it did to his little male brain. 

Jisung could tell how much you wanted him and it only aroused him more. You were so fucking eager. You were going to town, sucking him off like you were in love with him, like you were worshiping him, and it got him off to an inexplicable extent. He couldn’t even begin to describe how your mouth felt sealed around him like you wanted to suck him completely dry. 

You ran your hands up his stomach, up his thighs. He was sensitive in more places than one, your touches making his breath hitch in his throat. 

“I’m gonna come,” he warned, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with all the stunts you were pulling.

Damn, already, you thought to yourself, wanting to chuckle. Not that you were actually even remotely surprised. You knew what you were doing; you were ruining him and taking a little piece of him to serve as a reminder of your victory. 

You didn’t slow down. If anything, you went even faster, your head bobbing up and down his shaft like you wanted to eat him for every meal of every goddamn day. Jisung winced his eyes clothed and accepted his fate, knowing he was merely seconds away from the heat in his stomach unfurling. 

With the last piece of his self-control officially waning now that you were sucking his dick like you had something to prove, Jisung involuntarily began thrusting into your mouth, messily fucking your throat with every intention of getting himself off. You let him. At the moment, you were just pleased you’d driven him mad. 

And that you knew for sure, because the buildup of ecstasy at short last began to overflow and Jisung couldn’t take it anymore. He gave one final long, deep moan as he released down your throat and clasped your sheets for purchase, convulsing with the effort. 

Jisung was shaking. When his eyes finally opened, all he saw was you swallowing his load even though he hadn’t asked you to, and it made him burn from the inside out. 

You grinned when he withdrew from your mouth and glanced up to meet his eyes, watching him struggle to find words. “You good?” you asked, shifting on your knees. 

Jisung nodded, but that word didn’t even begin to capture the feeling he had inside right now. That was a revolutionary nut. “I… yeah. I’m good.”

Getting up from your knees, you ignored the faint ache in them and asked, “Do you wanna fuck now?”

“God, yes,” Jisung replied in a heartbeat, stroking himself back rigid. It would happen in no time. 

When he was hard, he gathered you in his arms and tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed, a gasp escaping your mouth as your back met the mattress. Jisung ordered you to raise your hips, which you did on command, and he slipped your panties from underneath you to throw them wherever his pants were. Still unsatisfied, he tugged at your shirt too until you were completely naked.

The sight of you made him hold his breath. Your smooth skin and supple breasts and kissable tummy. He slipped a hand between your legs, wondering if he should return the favor before he fucked you, but he was surprised by how wet you had gotten from giving him pleasure. 

“You really are something else,” he mumbled, running his arousal-slicked fingers over his throbbing dick. 

You laughed, debating what to do with your legs, and ultimately deciding on draping them over his broad shoulders. Jisung groaned, having imagined one too many times how your cunt would feel as he pushed in and out of it silkily, and concluding that there was no point in drawing things out, he slipped between your slick folds. 

He growled in pleasure immediately, because both the way your pussy welcomed him in with ease and the way it invitingly throbbed around him was making him unravel. It was completely insane. The power you had over him right now was lethal and he couldn’t believe how wet and snug you were just for him. 

“Oh, god,” you moaned out, because suddenly your legs on him weren’t enough and you detangled them from his shoulders to wrap around his slim waist instead so that it would be easier to lock your arms around him as well. 

It took a long moment for Jisung to will himself to open his eyes, because they had been winced closed since the moment he felt you tightening around him. He looked you in the eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked softly. 

You nodded your head. His cock was long and thick and veiny and everything in between. You were in a world between heaven and earth, elevating to the gods and struggling to stay grounded. “It’s perfect, baby. Fuck me just like that.”

Jisung felt dizzy. He knew he had been right in choosing you. It wasn’t every girl that could leave him on the cusp of insanity with both her throat and her pussy, and he was still reeling from the head you’d given him. His whole body was scalding with lust and passion as he reaped pleasure from your body with every labored thrust. 

You couldn’t get enough how he felt stroking against your walls and it showed in the way you were kneading and gushing around his cock. The tension in the air was exhilarating, throttling. You grappled his forearms to keep him close, not wanting to be separated when he was fucking you this good. 

“Can you say my name?” Jisung asked, his voice thick with desire. 

“Jisung,” you called out softly, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts in a perfect sync. You simply couldn’t help yourself. This would be your undoing. 

Jisung swore underneath his breath, unable to control the way his stammering hips reacted to the hint of breathlessness in your voice, and smoothed his palms over your beautiful, bare body. He ran his fingers over your cheek, your neck, your chest and your thighs. 

He knew he needed to make you come if he cared about not absolutely humiliating himself, because he was going to unravel in a matter of minutes. With that thought, he stuck his hand between your legs and thumbed your clit, asking, “How does that feel?”

You cried out his name again, shuddering with sensitivity. Your heart was hammering in your chest and pounding in your ears and the throbbing between your legs was brutal. If he was trying to finish you, it was working. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer. 

Jisung took that as a sign that you liked it and he continued rubbing the sensitive nub, all the while giving you those long, deep strokes you seemed to be enjoying. You couldn’t breathe through the ecstasy. The way he was stretching you out and bringing you high made you feel as if you could choke. 

You trembled beneath him, torn between taking his cock and arching away from the pleasure. “Oh my god. Fuck. I’m gonna come,” you said, feeling the sweat clinging to your skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was lying about being a virgin. 

That drew a grunt out of Jisung in anticipation. He didn’t stop touching your clit, didn’t stop stroking your sweet spot. “You gonna come for me?”

You nodded your head vigorously. The rhythm of his thrusts and the relentlessness of his hand between your legs was going to make you see stars. Of that you were certain. Your mouth hung open, gasping for breath, struggling to breathe in the stuffy air. 

Then it finally rammed into you like a freight train and you let out a mangled cry of Jisung’s name as you reached your peak. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. You begged for mercy, overcome. Undone. Your face tensed and you throbbed around his cock over and over, your entire body unstill. 

When you tried to squirm away from it, Jisung held you securely in his arms so that you had no option but to take the pleasure he was giving you, and everything about it made you feel faint. 

He only released you when you went slack against the sheets, the most empty look in your stare as if your soul had been completely snatched from your body, and he couldn’t but moan. God fucking damn. 

Jisung kept fucking you through your orgasm, knowing that his was right around the corner, especially with how you had clamped around him like a noose as you came and the soft moans you were making as he tried to get himself off. It was classic mutually assured destruction. 

You were hyper aware of the wet sound of his hips smacking into yours echoing out on the walls, even wetter now that you had orgasmed on his cock. Knowing the effect he had on you somehow turned you on. You were still trying to collect yourself after having one hell of an orgasm, throwing your arms around his body again. 

“Mm. Jisung, come. I want you to come,” you purred, rubbing your hands down his back. 

Jisung was losing his mind. He knew he was a goner the second you said that and thus he begrudgingly withdrew from your soaked pussy, flipped you onto your stomach, and started to stroke himself the rest of the way with his fist. 

In a matter of seconds, he was groaning so close to and simultaneously too far from your ear, landing a stripe of his cum on your ass as he winced his eyes closed for the nth time. You looked behind you in time to see his face tensing and his lips parted in a perfect deep moan that had you clenching around nothing.

Jisung dropped beside you like a deadweight and tried to gather his breath. His mind was staggering from the orgasm and the tight feel of your cunt around his cock and he wasn’t going to be capable of thinking straight for the next hour or so. 

When you at last willed yourself to move, you brushed the hair out of his face and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jisung replied, nodding. “Are you?”

“I’m good,” you told him, grinning from ear to ear. You were hoping he wouldn’t leave without your number. The sex was a little too good not to happen again. 

Jisung bobbed his head again. He slowly sat up, knowing his head would spin if he got up too fast, and said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You hummed in response, watching his back as he grabbed his pants and stepped out of the room. 

When he was in the bathroom, Jisung whipped out his phone from the pocket of his pants and texted his group chat. 

jisung: just lost my virginity for the 28th time not that i’m counting

mark: lmfaooo how long are these girls gon fall for that shit 

jeno: for real, he lies more than jaemin

jaemin: ntm on me. but i’m impressed he’s kept it up for this long 

haechan: come on. all he has to do is stutter and they’re like aweeee jisungie wungie is your cock heavy? here let me hold that for you

Jisung rolled his eyes and put his phone away. All he knew was the sex was amazing and he was coming back for seconds; you would be the perfect place to dump his cum before the start of November. 

And he wasn’t losing.

[fifteensjukebox]

god it really is 2013 again my best friend is apparently not anymore and i just saw a girl in american eagle short shorts with a union jack sticker on her phone case i hate it here