#they’re all so dripped out here as well
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henry7931 · 18 hours ago
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Starting College?
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Alex:
I don’t know how I feel right now, I guess I’m kinda excited but I really wasn’t planning for this. You see, the body I’m in actually belongs to my big brother Max.
My brother Max and I have this special ability where we can swap bodies. We used to do it all the time when we were younger and use it to our benefit— like I’m good with Math but Max is good at English. No one knows about our ability including our parents.
So right before Max leaves for college, he panicked and begged me to go as him instead.
“Bro please! I know you’re so ready to get out of here anyways. Just go for me, I’ll out here in your body,” he says to me.
“I don’t know Max, you think you’ll regret not going? That’s your body, your life,” I say to him.
“Alex, you and I both know that’s not true. We share our bodies. To me, my body is just as much as yours as it’s mine. Now can you please swap with me?,” he says grabbing my hands.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
I felt nervous and excited. I thought to myself— am I ready to live on my own? I have always been the more independent one…
I also love having my brother’s body. I just feel so confident when I’m him. And the fact that he’s even offering it to me… saying his body is just as much mine as it is his….
“One more thing Max, I want your body the entire freshman year. I’m not going up there and have you call me—”
“Done,” he says shaking on it.
We immediately swapped bodies and as I ride off with my parents waving good bye to my body with my brother inside— I couldn’t help but feel so much excitement rushing through me.
I look down at Max’s hands and legs… I feel right when I’m inside of him.
Hours later…
I get to my new dorm and my parents help me unpack. They say goodbye to me and it feels so strange hearing them call me Max over and over again. I’m gonna have to get used to it.
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Before they leave my dad takes a picture of me sitting on my new bed.
And just like that— I was alone in my own dorm room.
Time passes and I wait around to see if I have a roommate but to my surprise no one ever shows up.
I guess this is a good thing, I can have my own privacy and space.
I lock my door and immediately pulled off all of the clothes my brother put on this morning.
Now nearly naked, I stare at my brother’s muscled frame in the mirror.
I run his hands down his abs and open up the waistband to his briefs.
I look inside and my new equipment. Max is notably well endowed. I’ve interacted with it a few times, primarily to go to the bathroom.
But I’ve never jerked off with it. Something about it felt like I was crossing a line. Although now that this is my body for atleast a year… fuck it!
I craw up to my bed fully naked. I run my hands down to my legs all the way to my new cute feet. Max has really nice feet, I’ve always admired them.
I run my fingers in between my toes grinning at them… they’re mine. I bring one of my feet up to my face. I sniff it and take in the smell…
I kiss each of my toes and notice that I’m so hard that pre-cum is already dripping out of my cock.
I take a sample and taste it…
I start running my fingers over my tight balls and hard dick when my door opens…
“Oh fuck!!!,” says a hot guy standing at the door.
“Shit!!!” I grab a blanket and wrap it around my waste.
“Dude I’m so sorry…”
“Uhhh it’s okay man. I’m Josh,” he says to me waving.
“Hey im uh— I’m Max! I guess we’re roommates?,” I say to him.
“Yeah I guess so,” he says to me. Josh’s eyes focus in on my noticeable wood still standing at full attention.
“Oh sorry… I uh…,” I stumble through my words when Josh says, “need to jerk off? It’s okay dude, I can give you some privacy or join in.”
Wait is this guy flirting with me???
“I wouldn’t mind if you joined,” I say very matter fact.
Josh pulls off all of his clothes and I toss off my blanket. Both of us start making out.
He pushes me onto his bed and starts kissing down my chest.
“Damn, this is great,” he says to me.
“Yeah?,” I say to him.
“Yeah, I got a hot roommate with a nice dick. It’s about to be the best year ever,” he says to me.
Josh starts sucking me off and it sends me into like another universe!!
Fuck this is going to be the best year ever!!!
6 Months Later…
A lot has happened this year. For starters, I have a boyfriend. And to no surprise it’s my roommate Josh.
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Not only that but I’ve made some big changes. I joined a frat and have been working out more.
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I even got my first tattoo!!
And I feel so comfortable with my life now. The funny thing is Alex (previously Max) feels the same way.
Both of us feel so much more comfortable in our bodies and I don’t think we’re ever going to switch back.
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probablybucky · 11 hours ago
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FALLING — Part Two
Bucky Barnes x Reader (Y/N) [Set during TFATWS]
Word Count: 1.5k // Warnings: Anxiety, flashbacks
PART ONE
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The smell of fresh coffee pulled you from sleep, but it was the sound of a hushed giggle that fully woke you.
You peeled open your eyes to find Sarah standing over you, arms crossed, an infuriatingly smug expression on her face. You groaned, rolling onto your stomach and smothering your face into your pillow.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sarah tapped her foot against the hardwood floor.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, voice dripping with amusement, “Maybe because you were out there talking to Bucky all night?”
Your stomach flipped — you knew you’d never hear the end of this.
“I wasn’t out there all night,” you muttered into the pillow. Sarah scoffed.
“Oh, really? I woke up at one-thirty and peeked out the window, and guess what? Still out there.” You groaned dramatically, burying your face.
“Creeper.” Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, her smirk only growing.
“So, are we gonna talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Sarah arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. You pushed yourself upright, rubbing your face before muttering, “We were just...talking.”
“Talking,” Sarah repeated, dragging out the word like it physically pained her, “You sat out on the dock, in the moonlight, for hours, having a deep, emotional heart-to-heart with a grumpy man who was an assassin and has some sort of stare syndrome—”
“Stare syndrome?” You interrupted.
“—and you expect me not to ask questions?” You tossed a pillow at her, which she dodged effortlessly, laughing.
“Seriously, Y/N,” Her tone shifted, “You know you're allowed to be happy, right?”
“I am happy,” You corrected, “I love my life here with you and the boys. I don’t regret coming back home.” She sighed,
“I know you say you don't, and I love you for that. But you and I both know you didn't come home just because of me."
Your fingers curled into the sheets.
The memory hit you like a punch in the gut—the stale air of a government office, the cold weight of a gun pressed between your shoulder blades, the way your name sounded as if it were an accusation.
Sarah’s voice yanked you back,
"The sooner you leave the past behind, the sooner you can move on."
You buried your head in your hands, and groaned, trying to forget everything that had led you home.
“I hate you."
“No, you don’t,” she said, smugly. “You hate that I’m right.” Before you could argue, the faint sound of clinking metal came from the backyard. Sarah stood with a satisfied smirk,
“C’mon, Stare Syndrome is awake." You rolled your eyes, but your heart betrayed you by skipping a beat at the thought of Bucky. What was wrong with you?
The clink, whir, and solid thud of metal striking wood filled the morning air.
From the back porch, you and Sarah watched as Sam and Bucky stood a few yards apart, throwing the shield between them and a few trees.
Bucky caught it effortlessly, barely shifting under the force of the vibranium. With a casual flick of his wrist, he sent it spiraling back towards the tree, where it bounced off and returned to Sam, who caught it—though not as effortlessly. Sarah shook her head,
“That man acts like it’s nothing.” You crossed your arms,
“Super soldier physics.”
“Super soldier physics or not,” She nudged you, her tone more serious now, “I think this is good for them.”
You followed her gaze to the two men—throwing, catching, adjusting their stances, sharing unspoken understanding with each toss.
Yeah. It was good for them. After a few more throws, Sam called out something to Bucky who rolled his eyes and laughed before grabbing the shield from Sam's hands and throwing it faster. Sarah nudged you again.
“Well, would you look at that,” she said, smirking. “They’re bonding.”
“Miracle of the century,” you muttered. Sarah chuckled, leaning in with a smirk,
“I’m still thinking the miracle of the century is the two of you talking on the dock last night.” You shot her a glare and elbowed her,
“Drop it, Sarah.”
“Oh, I will. Right after you tell me why Bucky Barnes opened up to you.”
You exhaled through your nose, keeping your gaze on the yard. Bucky caught the shield like it was second nature, his expression unreadable. The weight of last night still pressed against your ribs—the way his voice had softened, the way his guarded walls had cracked just enough to let you see inside. You felt vulnerable with him. But in a good way.
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “Maybe he just needed to talk to someone who gets it.”
Sarah hummed, her silence stretching between you. Finally, she said, “And do you?”
Your throat tightened. Did you?
Before you could answer, Sam’s voice carried across the yard, breaking the moment.
"Alright, Barnes, that’s enough showing off!"
Bucky rolled his eyes but smirked as he tossed the shield back. Sarah leaned in, voice low. “You can lie to me all you want, but you can’t lie to yourself.”
You scoffed, masking the unease in your gut. “That so?”
“Mhm," She hummed, “And you definitely can’t lie to him.”
Your eyes flicked back to Bucky—just as he glanced toward the porch, his gaze landing on you. The moment stretched, heavy and unreadable, before he turned away.
Your pulse skipped. You swallowed hard and turned away abruptly. The step down from the porch caught you off guard, and your ankle rolled under you.
You barely had time to register the fall before hands caught you.
One warm. One cold.
A shiver ran up your spine as Bucky steadied you, his vibranium fingers firm around your waist.
For a moment, neither of you moved. Neither of you breathed.
Then his voice came, low and amused, “Déjà vu.”
You exhaled sharply. “Maybe I just like testing your reflexes.”
Bucky raised a brow, releasing you gently, “Lucky for you, they’re still sharp.”
Your pulse was a traitor. Sarah's knowing look burned into the side of your head.
You pretended not to see it.
After a couple more rounds of shield practice, Bucky grabbed his bag from the porch, slinging it over his shoulder.
Sam sighed, folding his arms. “You sure you don’t wanna stick around?” Bucky shook his head.
"Gotta head back to New York and tie up some loose ends."
Your stomach twisted.
Loose ends.
It was a phrase you knew too well. And for a second, another memory clawed its way back into your mind—a dimly lit parking garage, the sound of your own heart beating loudly in your ears, the sharp click of a safety being switched off behind you. Stiffening, you forced your expression to stay neutral as you snapped back to reality.
Sarah gave Bucky a knowing look but just nodded. “Safe travels, Barnes.” Bucky softened, nodding back. Then his eyes settled on you. You suddenly had no idea what to say.
“Guess I’ll see you around,” he said.
“Guess so,” you replied, forcing a smile— trying to reassure yourself that everything about this was perfectly normal. There was no reason for you to feel any way about him leaving. You hadn't even known him for 24 hours. He held your gaze for a moment longer before giving you a small nod. Your chest tightened. Then, with one last look at Sam, he walked toward the car.
As soon as the engine rumbled to life, Sam clapped his hands together.
“Alright,” he exhaled, “Now I just gotta figure out how the hell I’m supposed to live up to this.”
You and Sarah exchanged glances.
“Easy,” Sarah said, crossing her arms, “You just gotta work harder.”
Sam scoffed, “Right. No pressure.” But as he watched the car disappear down the road, his face turned serious again. He had a choice to make.
And deep down, you already knew what he was going to choose to do.
The sound of the TV made your heart pound. Sarah had the remote clutched in her hands, eyes locked on the screen as the news replayed footage of the fight in New York against the Flag Smashers.
Your stomach twisted when you saw Sam, fully suited up, carrying the shield like he was born for it.
“Damn,” Sarah breathed. “Look at him.” You barely heard Sarah’s words. Your eyes were locked on the screen, but your mind was somewhere else. The air smelled like smoke. Sirens in the distance. Someone was calling your name—shouting it. You blinked hard. The TV came back into focus. Sam standing tall, the shield in his hands.
Sarah’s voice finally reached you, “You okay?”
You took a deep breath and forced a nod. But your heart was still racing.
The footage cuts to Sam’s speech to the senator, his voice steady but full of fire.
“The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.”
You swallowed hard. Sam was Captain America. Sarah sat back slowly, exhaling through her nose.
“You know what?” You glanced at her. “I think he’s gonna be alright.” Your lips twitched.
“Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”
But your chest still felt tight. Because your mind wasn't just on Sam.
It was on Bucky.
And you wondered, even if you can't outrun your past, could you ever accept the person you are because of it?
———————
Author's Note: Well, I never intended for this to become more than 2 parts... but it's looking like that's what will happen. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be added to the tag list. I've enjoyed writing again so much!!! It's been so cathartic! Thanks to those who have read and given feedback. It means the world!
Tagging those who reblogged part 1: @kurogxrix @urfavfakeblonde @kiwi-peaches-blog @winterslove1917 @lovelifealways22 @just-dreaming-marvel-2 @buckybarnesfic <3
Let me know if you want to be on the taglist for part 3! :)
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alexanderlightweight · 2 days ago
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Bro, Sir, my dude, your Pray to the Hunters verse has completely consumed my brain. Thoughts, gone, I live here now. Please sir may I have some more? Thank you so much for all of your hard work!!!
okay i've had a bunch of asks for pray to the hunters verse but this is my oldest and I saved it in drafts with a reminders because when I finally was able to write it again, I wanted to make sure I could share it with you because even though it was a while ago, I've thought of this prompt on and off and it's always made me smile. anyways it's been a long time but I hope you enjoy it <3
lumine
pray to the hunters
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Condensation drips like slow tears down the crystal of Magnus’ glass as he stares at the werewolf kneeling before him.
“I’ve warned you before, if you wish to keep your pack within the bounds of my territory, then you must also follow the rules.  My rules. Was this somehow unclear?” Magnus’ voice is gentle, almost kind and every word, every question makes the pathetic creature in front of him flinch.
Just as he is about to continue, the wolf’s ragged breath comes out not only in a whimper but in a gust of frost that hangs in the air  and Magnus inhales. The air of his club suddenly sharp and clean like a fresh layer of mountain snow... and the tang of blood.
The droplets etching their path down his drink freeze, stuck to the side like tiny glistening diamonds. 
“Alexander—” Magnus murmurs to himself, beyond pleased despite the simmering impatience that still lingers in his veins. In his core, the death magic he’s carefully concealed within the cafe of cold necromantic energy Alexander shared with him, roils as if in hungry excitement.  
Alexander melts from the shadows as if he was born from their embrace, not even bothering to spare the wolf a glance, ignoring everything else to look only at Magnus. 
As he should.
It’s as enthralling as it is maddening, wishing to be both the shadows embracing Alexander and the splatter of red flecks on his jaw and neck.
“Are you busy?” Alexander’s voice is quiet and calm despite the intensity with which he looks at Magnus. There's mocking laughter in the court around them, for who could see this scene and not realize Magnus is busy. 
For a moment Magnus lets the question linger amid derision, taking a long, slow sip of his drink and savoring how the alcohol slides thickly down his throat, so cold it burns. 
How quickly his court latches onto any weakness shown, yet they’re misunderstanding the question.
Alexander isn’t inquiring if Magnus is busy, he’s asking if Magnus is too busy for him.  
Alexander wants to know if whatever Magnus is doing is more important than Magnus’ interest in him.
Specifically.��
Magnus’ laughter is a deep chuckle that only encourages the mockery around them until, with two fingers raised, he silences them and stands.
“Nothing is more intriguing to me than you, Alexander.” 
Magnus holds out his hand and Alexander takes it, his flesh and muscle covered fingers just as cold as the bone-knuckled grasp of his ancestors.   It feels like the phantom cage of skeletal fingers still lingering on his heart and Magnus brings Alexander’s hand to his mouth in a long, claiming kiss.
Around them PanDEMONium has gone silent with shock and Magnus ignores them with a breathy laugh of delight. Only three days and yet it feels like three centuries since Alexander’s deathly cold magic soothed the raging fires of Magnus’ desire.
Three days since Alexander’s offered boon gifted Magnus the ability to harvest more power than he thought possible without consequences. 
Well, there is a consequence, but Magnus finds Alexander — and the pull he holds over Magnus — such a delightful one.
“Were you hunting, darling?” Magnus wonders just how far he’ll be allowed to press, in public and without a ritual or a boon tying them together.  
Alexander smiles at him, hazel eyes soft and encompassing like a beautiful everglade with thousands of hidden dangers.
“Was I?”
Magnus takes that as permission, using his grip on Alexander to pull him closer — thrilled at how easily his shadowhunter lets himself be led — and leans forward to possessively lick at the specks of blood on Alexander’s jaw.
It carries the vibrancy of life, not death and Magnus tsks in disappointment, a shame then that Alexander hadn’t come to him fully sated by death.  It means he’ll probably leave, when whatever business he’s come here to make with Magnus is done. It also makes Magnus even more curious, about why he’s come when he’s clearly not finished with his hunt.
“Pity.” Magnus’ voice is quiet, only for the two of them and Alexander’s eyes crinkle in amusement.
“I’ve heard that most of the business you conduct remains at your club.”
“Aren’t you well informed.” Magnus hums thoughtfully and uses his thumb to smear the blood and saliva on Alexander’s face into a claiming streak of color. “Do you want us to talk here?”
Alexander smiles again, disarmingly pretty, if it weren’t for his bone-white teeth and how his lips and tongue are almost the same color as the blood of prey on his skin.
“If you’re willing to share, then why would I object.”
Magnus is not willing to share.
Magnus would rather burn down his entire club and everyone in it than to share a moment of Alexander's precious, remarkable power and existence with a single other being.  
“Teasing me is a dangerous game, Alexander.” Magnus creates a portal with a dark smirk and winks at his shadowhunter, “but I think you know that.”
notes:
alec is being a little shit btw. he purposefully didn't go finish his kill because he wants to tempt Magnus into joining him and this is his grand plan and idea of flirting because yes, his idea of 'do you like me y/n' is 'hey why don't we go see if the high warlock of Brooklyn wants to go eat more hearts with me?' totally normal even for Shadowhunters, right?
If it wasn’t clear, magnus’ drink temperatur and the temperature everywhere is affected by alec’s powers which are basically based on how steeped he is in necromantic ancestral magic at the time. Everything is affected by him and Alec is both making a statement and not. He’s kind of forgotten its a side affect at this point 
And btw magnus totally finds alec pretty, its just the disarming part of the pretty doesn’t work with how dangerous alec actually is the aura he exudes and let me tell you, something really pretty that screams danger is much scarier than something not as nice to look at. Magnus is charmed tho, just not disarmed 
Magnus is trying to just live life... while enjoying necromantic magic and a bunch of murder but that's not the point. He really did not need a bunch of werewolves attacking a NY police officer werewolf.  He just did not okay. Like that was not well thought out at all and magnus is so fucking done. especially because they need those spies and not many are willing to do it and no one is going to force them. Magnus is ACAB and wants to be involved with mundane law enforcement as little as possible okay, unless its to fuck with them and he can do that without being around them personally.
Uhm clary and simon did not get kidnapped. Well they did, they just didn’t stay kidnapped long enough to get into big trouble but luke and the pack still beefed and magnus caught wind of it because alaric has at least a quarter of a braincell and was like ‘uh the highwarlock will not be happy that a downworld police officer is about to have a very unnatural death that will be super investigated since cops are like that about their own when they're already suspicious about all the mundane deaths'. 
The werewolf magnus is currently about to eviscerate doesn’t have a name because magnus can’t be bothered to remember his name when he’s this irritated and so he’ll probably call him about a dozen names that aren’t his own before killing him (i’m going to be real, this is a death magic story. It doesn’t matter what mood magnus is in when he gets back, the werewolf is going to die. Even if its just because magnus wants another taste of death to share with alec the next time they meet
Alec carving bone flowers for Magnus because 'one of his ancestors shared the impression of getting flowers and liking them but since Magnus is interested in necromancy, ofc she'll give her favorite descendant permission to carve her bones into a bouquet because that will be 'more personal'.
alec was the favorite of a bunch of fanatic dead warriors (more obsessed with eradicating demons than revering Raziel), he's more fucked up than normal but also more like, has better self-worth than canon so that says something about canon I feel. also when a bunch of your ancestors who didn't tarnish the family name but made the family name don't care about who are interested in as long as they're powerful? self-repression who?
ngl this is one of my most loved but difficult to write verses and I hope I got into the vibe right because it has to fit right or i'm just trying to finish a puzzle with the wrong pieces
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heavens-crown · 19 hours ago
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And They Were Neighbors Pt.11
Master List
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CW: 18+, violence, blood, stalking behavior
A/N: If you want to be on the tag list just comment down below or shoot me a message!
Tag List: @starkgaryan @gabsgabsvaz @happyfestpanda-blog @gothgirl13
Things are relatively quiet the next couple of weeks, no new gifts from Spencer and they’ve settled into a new routine. It’s not until Delilah has to go back to her apartment to get it ready for Cherry’s arrival that things go tits up. Walking in Delilah doesn’t immediately notice the balcony door is open, it’s only once she shuts the front door behind her and hears something move that she sees the wide open door. Frowning she stays rooted to the spot, something doesn’t feel right. As she’s opening Life360 to check on Cherry’s location someone clicks the balcony door shut. Delilah looks up and freezes, dread and terror holding her in a vice grip. Her thumb just barely hits the ‘SOS’ button before the man speaks up. 
“Hey bluebird.” 
Spencer has aged terribly, is Delilah’s first thought as she stares at him from across the room. His normally well styled blonde hair is buzzed to his scalp, and she can see that he hasn’t showered recently. But his blue eyes are just as ice cold as she remembered. 
“What are you doing here Spencer?” She asks while inching her way toward the kitchen keeping him in her line of sight. Adrenaline courses through her making it hard to move slowly so not set him off. He smiles at her and her stomach churns, where she had once found his smile charismatic and charming now she only felt dread. He’s five feet from her once she’s in the kitchen, her back to the cabinets, the front door still firmly in her sights. 
“Do you know how long it took me to find you?” He asks, ignoring her. “No one knew where you had gone, I was so worried about you.” Delilah glares at him, backing up until she feels the handle of the oven door dig into her. 
“I left you a letter.” Is all she says. His smile cracks and he glares at her. He steps even closer and now he’s only a foot away. Delilah’s heart is pounding and she can feel herself trembling. 
“You shouldn’t have left Delilah,” he grits out. “You especially shouldn’t have started fucking that older man.” 
“How do you know about him?” She asks, though she already knows the answer. 
“Cause I've been keeping watch over you baby,” he says, his face softening. “You live in a dangerous city, someone has to keep an eye on you.” Delilah just stares at him not acknowledging what he’s said. It's not until he’s stepped closer again that she moves. She grips the cast iron skillet handle that's set on the stove, swinging it as hard as she can. Hearing the crack as it meets his skull Delilah shoves him back and makes a break for the door. Her hand grazes the door knob before a hand in her hair is yanking her backwards. Spencer slams her face into the wall, the crunch of her nose breaking is deafening and she can taste the blood dripping down her face. Throwing her to the ground Spencer glares at her, blood trickling down his temple. He’s saying something to her but she can’t hear him over the ringing in her ears. Straddling her hips he pulls out a knife he had hidden under his hoodie, he runs the blade gently across her throat as a warning. Delilah blinks owlishly as he talks to her, none of the words make sense. Before she can say or do anything her front door is thrown open and several voices are shouting. 
Robby greets Jack as he walks into the pit, their shifts overlap for a few hours today which is a relief. As he’s filling Jack in on the patients they have in the rooms Dana calls out to them. 
“We got two coming in. Assault victim and the assaulter, ETA is 2 minutes.” Dana says the phone pressed to her ear. 
“Got it thanks Dana,” Robby calls out for Mohan and McKay. “We got two coming in, no idea how bad they’re hurt. Each of you grab a med student and meet me and Jack by the ambulance bay. They’re prepped in their gowns and gloves when the first ambulance pulls up, paramedics already opening the back doors. 
“29 year old female, she’s got head trauma and has been out of it since we picked her up.” The first paramedic says. Robby feels his heart stop when he sees who’s on the stretcher. 
“Delilah!” He’s moving before he knows what's happening. She's covered in blood, two black eyes are forming already and her nose looks broken. 
“You know her?” someone asks him. He ignores them and has her taken to Central 5, before calling out to Jack. Jack takes one look at Robby before running over. 
“Is that Delilah?” he asks. “You stay with her, I’ll take over for now.” They wheel her into the room as nurses swarm around her cutting her clothes off and hooking her up to monitors. As Mohan shines a light in her eyes she squirms scrunching her face up. 
“What the fuck,” she mumbles. Relief courses through Robby as she wakes up, squinting at them through bloodshot eyes. “Robby?” Cradling her cheek carefully Robby forces a smile for her. 
“Hey baby, you’re ok. Do you know where you are?” He asks. Mohan and the nurses are finishing up getting her vitals and their initial exam. He can see the questioning looks from everyone in the room as he keeps one hand on her. Delilah glances around the room eyeing everyone in there before looking back at him. 
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say a hospital,” she answers. It’s so sarcastic and so her that Robby lets out a relieved laugh. He squeezes her hand gently, brushing some hair from her face. 
“You’re at Pittsburgh Trauma Center, they said you had been assaulted.” Robby says, the worry in his system still rampant. She blinks up at him as if still digesting what he said. He sees the moment things click for her cause she sucks in a sharp breath and tries to sit up. 
“It was fucking Spencer,” she grunts, one of her hands going to cradle her nose. “Fucking asshole was waiting for me in my apartment.” Just then he hears the paramedics wheel in who he’s guessing is Spencer, he can’t hear what they’re saying from here but anger whips through him when he spots the man. Dana appears as she yanks the curtain shut. 
“You stay in here with Miss Delilah here,” She orders before disappearing. Taking a deep breath Robby forces himself to turn his attention back to Delilah. She’s clearly furious and is attempting to sit up. 
“Baby you got to lay down so we can check you over,” He says gently, holding her to the bed by her shoulder. She lays back down with a huff glaring up at him. “What exactly happened?” 
“Bastard slammed my face into the wall after I hit him with a skillet,” she says. “He was straddling me when the cops kicked the door in. I think I got a little bit trampled when they tased him.” Robby rests one of his free hands on her head shaking his head a bit. 
“Ok well we’re going to get you a CT scan and some X-rays to make sure nothing else is broken,” he says. “Do you want me to call anyone?” She nods before fishing her phone from her pocket. 
“Call Uncle Shawn, he’ll call everyone else.” She answers. Robby nods before pressing a kiss to her forehead. 
“I’ll be right back ok?” He turns to look at Mohan. “Get her some pain meds and run any other test you believe to be necessary.” Seeing Mohan nod he turns and leaves the room closing the curtain behind him. He can see where Jack and McKay are working on Spencer and a fresh wave of anger goes through him. Before he can head that way Gloria calls out to him. Grinding his teeth, Robby turns to face her. 
“I heard someone you have a personal relationship with was brought in.” She says. Her face is nonchalant as usual and he has to stomp down his anger.
“My girlfriend was assaulted by her abusive ex-boyfriend.” He says simply. Gloria’s eyes widen and she stays silent for a moment. 
“Take the rest of your shift off and stay with her,” she says, surprising him. “However you are not allowed near the ex-boyfriend. Understood?” Robby glares at her feeling a bit insulted. 
“Gloria I know it would be an ethics issue if I headed into that room right now.” Seeing that he truly has no intentions of heading in there Gloria nods and turns on her heel to head back to her office. Striding over to the nurses station he opens her phone, smiling when he sees her home screen is a photo of the two of them when they went out to dinner a few nights ago. Accessing her contacts he dials the number he finds for Shawn. 
“How do you know Dr.Robby?” Javadi asks as she cleans the blood from her face. 
“He’s my boyfriend,” Delilah answers, wincing as her nose throbbed. She can see where Dr.Mohan and the nurses pause for the slightest second. 
“That's nice! How long have you two been together,” Javadi asks. “I mean if you don’t mind me asking.” She rushes to add in. Delilah chuckles a bit before patting the other woman's arm. 
“You’re ok, don't worry. Officially we’ve been dating for about three weeks, though we’ve been together unofficially for two months.” Delilah says. As they finish up getting her settled she can hear someone talking loudly in the hallway demanding to know where their niece is. She groans as the curtain is pulled back and there stands Robby with her very pissed off Uncle. 
Robby gestures for everyone to leave the room as Delilah’s uncle storms into the room. She’s sitting up now and glaring at him as he throws questions at her a mile a minute. 
“What the fuck happened Delilah?” He snaps at her. Not liking the man's tone Robby stands on the other side of the bed bracing his hands on the railing. Shawn doesn’t even spare him a glance, his full attention on his niece. 
“Spencer found me somehow,” Delilah says before explaining everything that had happened. Shawns face goes an unhealthy shade of red before he goes into a tirade. After two minutes of listening to him yell at her Robby begins to say something but is cut off by Jack appearing in the door. 
“Sir this is a hospital. If you can’t keep your voice down then I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” His tone is gruff as ever and he stares Shawn down who glares back at him. Before he can answer Delilah reaches up to grab her uncles hand. 
“Can you call Cherry for me? I hit the SOS button of Life360 so she’s probably worried sick.” Delilah asks softly. She looked on the verge of tears and Shawn relaxed significantly at the request. 
“Of course monkey toes I’ll be right back.” He said walking from the room. Delilah rolls her eyes as he leaves before smiling up at Robby. 
“Do you think you can smuggle me in a chocolate muffin? I’m starving.” Robby sighed at her request. Of course she was more focused on food.
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jassy2uall · 1 day ago
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– Heart Like A Habit 🧡 (pt. 5)
Highschool!Billie Eilish x black fem!reader
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“You're the new girl—just trying to survive another school year in a place where you know no one. But then there’s her—Billie Eilish, the infamous heartbreaker and rising star who somehow has you completely hooked, whether you like it or not.”
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Alycia sat in her car in the parking lot, her mind racing with thoughts. She told herself not to get too excited—there was still a chance she and Billie wouldn’t even talk today. There was no reason to feel this giddy... and yet, she couldn’t help it.
“Enough, Alycia. Stop acting foolish and just get today over with.” The words repeated in her head like a broken record as she stepped out of her car and made her way into the school, determined to push her emotions aside.
Alycia’s body stiffened as she gripped the edge of her locker, her eyes flicking to the three girls standing behind her.
Odessa stood in the center, arms crossed, smirking like she had all the time in the world. To her right, Quen mirrored her smug expression, and on her left was a girl Alycia hadn’t seen before—short brown hair, heavy dark eyeliner, and a slightly gothic look.
Great. More of them.
“Hey, new girl,” Odessa drawled, her voice sickly sweet. “That was some game yesterday.”
Alycia exhaled slowly, keeping her cool as she shut her locker with a quiet clank. “Yeah. Tons of fun.”
Quen let out a low chuckle, while the gothic girl simply tilted her head, studying Alycia in silence.
Odessa took a step closer, eyes glinting. “Didn’t take you for such a fighter. Not gonna lie, I was pretty pissed when you got me and Quen out. But then our girl Billie took care of it, and that made my day.”
“I’m so mad I missed that,” the gothic girl muttered, barely above a whisper.
Alycia sighed. “It was just a game, Odessa. And Billie didn’t seem to care nearly as much as you two did.” She glanced between Odessa and Quen before crossing her arms. “Honestly, it felt like you were more focused on getting me out than winning.”
Quen snorted. “Yeah, well, Billie doesn’t always show what she’s thinking.”
The gothic girl finally spoke up, her gaze flickering over Alycia with mild curiosity. “So, what’s your deal? You just move here or something?”
Alycia hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. From Atlanta.”
Odessa hummed, tilting her head. “Atlanta, huh? Guess that explains why you’ve got a little fire in you.”
Alycia held back a sigh. She wasn’t about to let them bait her into whatever game they were playing.
Odessa smirked, her tone turning mockingly sympathetic. “Well, you’ll figure out soon enough how things work around here.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Just a little advice? Billie might’ve been nice to you yesterday, but don’t get too comfortable. She doesn’t do nice for long.”
Alycia’s stomach twisted, but she forced her face to remain unreadable. “Thanks for the tip,” she said evenly. “But I think I’ll figure things out on my own.”
Odessa studied her for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle. “Suit yourself.” She turned to Quen and the gothic girl. Odessa's smirk widened as she turned back to them. “Where’s Billie now?” she asked, her tone casual—too casual, like she already knew the answer but just wanted to say it out loud for Alycia’s benefit.
Quen grinned, flicking her gaze toward Alycia. “Pretty sure she spent the night at Ava’s place. They’re probably on their way now.”
Alycia felt her stomach drop, but she kept her expression neutral, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. Still, Odessa studied her closely, like a predator watching for the slightest sign of weakness.
And maybe, just maybe, she caught it.
Because her smirk deepened, and she took a slow step closer. “I cannot wait for gym today,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “It may not be dodgeball, but I have a feeling it’s gonna be way more fun than yesterday.”
She was right in front of Alycia now, eyes locked onto hers, daring her to break.
Alycia clenched her jaw, holding her ground.
“I can’t wait either,” Alycia shot back, fire in her voice.
Odessa’s smirk twitched, just for a second. Barely noticeable—but Alycia caught it.
Before Odessa could respond, a voice cut through the tension.
“What’s going on?”
Alycia knew that voice.
She turned her head, and there was Billie, walking side by side with Ava, her expression curious but unreadable.
Alycia felt her throat go dry.
Alycia’s heart raced as Billie and Ava approached. Billie’s eyes briefly flickered over to Alycia, but before she could say anything, Ava shot a look at the group with a raised eyebrow.
“What’s going on here?” Ava asked, her voice dripping with a hint of superiority, just like Odessa and Quen.
Alycia’s stomach twisted, but before she could even respond, Billie’s gaze snapped toward Ava, her eyes sharp.
“Seriously, Ava?” Billie said, her voice colder than Alycia had ever heard it. “Cut it out. We don’t need to be rude for no reason.”
Ava blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in Billie’s tone, but she didn’t push it further. Billie turned back to Alycia, her expression softening, the corner of her mouth lifting in a small, reassuring smile.
“Don’t mind them,” Billie added, her voice low, just for Alycia to hear. “They’re always like that. You good?”
Alycia nodded, her heart pounding, trying to hold herself together. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Billie looked at her for a moment longer, before glancing at Odessa and the others. “Let’s go,” she said, her voice firm, but there was something in her eyes—something that made Alycia believe Billie wasn’t just trying to protect her from the others.
Billie led the way down the hall with Ava following behind, leaving Alycia standing there, trying to process what had just happened.
Did Billie really just defend her?
The question echoed in Alycia’s mind, and her heart raced. The feeling was almost surreal—like a whirlwind of emotions all hitting her at once.
God, this was such a rush.
She stood still for a moment, gathering her thoughts, trying to calm the chaos in her chest. This wasn’t just some high school drama—there was something real here. Something she couldn’t quite put into words, but it felt different.
When Alycia finally made her way to class, the door creaked open, and she spotted Billie talking with the others near the back of the room. It looked like a heated conversation—gestures were sharp, voices were low, but there was no mistaking the tension in the air.
Alycia hesitated at the door, her nerves creeping back, but then she took a deep breath and pushed forward, heading to her seat. As she sat down, she could feel Odessa’s eyes on her, though Odessa didn’t turn around, her posture stiff, her face set in a permanent scowl.
Quen was doing the same, her usual smirk replaced with a more annoyed expression, lips pressed into a tight line.
The tension from their conversation was palpable, and Alycia couldn’t help but wonder if it was all because of her—because of what Billie had said to them earlier.
She looked up at Billie once more, but Billie wasn’t paying attention to her. Instead, she was still in a low-key argument with Odessa and Quen. Whatever was going on, it was clear that things were far from settled.
“Good morning, class!” Mr. Brown said with a bright smile, his enthusiasm making it clear he was in a good mood.
Most of the class mumbled a half-hearted “Good morning” in response.
“Today’s going to be an easy day,” he began, but he couldn’t even finish his sentence before the class erupted into loud cheers and applause. It made him shake his head and chuckle.
“How you kids love my class,” he joked, grinning.
“Your only assignment for today is to watch the videos posted on the screen. They’re only twelve minutes long, but I know most of you aren’t going to really pay attention—which will definitely hurt when the test comes up on Friday,” Mr. Brown added, holding back a laugh at his own teasing.
A chorus of boos filled the room.
“Come on, Mr. Brown! We don’t want a test this week! Can’t you push it to three more weeks?” Quen called out, her voice full of exaggerated drama.
The class murmured in agreement, some of the students slumping down in their chairs, clearly not thrilled with the idea of the test.
Mr. Brown raised an eyebrow, pretending to be stern. “Oh, really? Three more weeks, huh? Well, maybe I’ll just let you all do nothing and see how well that works out for you when your grades plummet,” he said with a playful wink.
The class groaned, some rolling their eyes, while others tried to beg with their hands folded together like they were praying.
“Alright, alright,” Mr. Brown relented, his smile still in place. “Watch the videos. But don’t think you’re off the hook for that test. Trust me, it’ll be here before you know it.”
Alycia couldn’t help but chuckle, and she noticed Odessa’s eyes immediately shift to her. Odessa tried to cover her smile with her hand, but it faltered when she noticed Billie’s gaze.
Alycia tilted her head slightly, glancing behind her, and saw Billie, who looked... less than pleased. Billie’s eyes were locked on Odessa, and her usual smirk was nowhere to be found. Instead, she wore a frown, her brow furrowed as if she was trying to hold back something.
It didn’t take a genius to realize that Billie wasn’t too happy with her friend right now.
Odessa, sensing the tension, straightened in her seat, quickly looking away from Alycia and trying to focus on the front of the classroom. But Alycia could see the slight shift in her posture—she was trying to play it off, but the crack in her confidence was clear.
Billie’s sharp gaze lingered on Odessa for a moment longer before she turned back to the front of the room, her expression unreadable again. But Alycia couldn’t ignore the way her stomach fluttered at the thought that Billie had noticed what had just happened.
Alycia quickly grabbed her laptop from her book bag, along with her headphones, determined not to waste any time on the assignment. She plugged in her headphones and opened the video, trying her best to focus.
But as the minutes ticked away, her attention kept drifting. The thought of gym class kept creeping into her mind. The idea of playing against Billie—or maybe even being on the same team—made her heart race. She couldn’t deny it; the anticipation of it all had her nerves buzzing.
One thing was clear now—Alycia was down bad.
There was no escaping the way Billie had completely taken over her thoughts.
End of pt. 5
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MEOW!
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tonycries · 3 months ago
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BIIIG STRETCH.
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Synopsis. First time fitting all of him = first time losing his mind.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, they’re PACKING, making it fit, cervíx kíssing, p talking, p slápping, use of “my wife”, dúmbifícation, BÚLGES, jealousy (Ino), BRÉEDING, true form Sukuna, dp, Shiu cameo, spítting, GOJO’S POWERS, D analysis, chóking, exhíbitíonism (Higuruma), cúmplay, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Tony Claus is here with a biiiig gift for y’all hehehe <3
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8.96 inches
“T-Toooji- why the hell are you s-so big?” And oh, he can’t help but snicker at how you can barely even speak, barely do anything but thrash your quivering legs against the coiling springs of the mattress.
“Yeah yeah, tell me something I don’t know, doll.” Toji’s rolling his half-lidded eyes, swollen hilt plummeting down to French kiss his fat, mushroomy tip with a sappy thwack! at your teary slit. “Besides, m’barely even heh- an inch in.” 
Barely even an inch.
Toji can feel his parched mouth just lather in greedy saliva at the oh-so-cute shock slipping its way onto your pretty features. “An i-inch…Toji will it even-”
“Silly girl, ‘course it will.” You’re gasping when one big, beefy arm claws around your boneless thighs to drag you halfway down the bed. Streaking a wet swab down your achy folds - oh, the sheer size difference was so vulgar. It makes him grin, “Because m’gonna make it fit, duh.” 
Oh. 
That wasn’t a promise - it was uttered like an oh-so-simple fact.
Well, your melty mind supposes, that is what you get for stubbornly claiming that you could “take it all”. Begging. 
Over and over for days until your dear Toji had finally snapped. Had finally manhandled your poor self into the meanest of mating presses, giving your sloppy hole a mere savoring taste of the fat circumference of his syrupy pink tip-
“Oi.” Toji’s planting two swats onto the deliriously lolling side of your face. “Better not be f-fucked stupid already after all that talkin’ outta ya slutty pussy, ma.”
Hypnotized head nuzzling the sweat-slicked crook of his neck, your sloppy tongue garbles out a barely-coherent, “I-I’m not- I swear. It’s j-just…”
“J-j-just what?” Toji’s rumbling baritone hitches up into a dramatic high pitch, rounded curvature of his knees opening your trembly thighs up even further. 
“Just…”
Only to rummage a good few inches of length past your saccharinely glossy hole. Perfectly left-leaning curve of his shaft swiping down your tender spots and fucking you spellbound. Snickering, “Honestly, just loooove complainin’, don’tcha? Why don’t you ah- beg f’me, instead?”
But you can’t - couldn’t even if you wanted to. 
Because Toji was big, to say the least. 
Girthy, merciless near-nine inches of him glazed a dripping gloss of precum. And it looked like it pained him to pull out. It pained him to slip and slide a sandwiching kiss of his soft, coral pink underside between your saturated lips. Back and forth back and forth back and-
“C’mon c’mon–” he’s hissing, dark brows knitting together tight. And the way you’re pushing away his sweat-streaked strands of black makes Toji shudder. “Yer my good girl, right? G-gonna take it all like a fucking champ, aren’tcha?”
“I-I will?” You mewl, eyes nervously straying to the way he looked so comically staggering twitching between your legs. Impatient. Red and angry. It made you starved. “I will.”
And oh, Toji would make sure of that.
Making sheer white cloud your vision when he’s letting go of his hefty crownhead to thud! across your quivering hole. Before his toned hips drivel in tiny little gyrations to pump you so full - Toji’s bloated cockhead spearheading you open so solidly. And the stretch-
The stretch. 
The globular ends of his shaft mazes between your gluey walls to push you tautly to your limits. His sobbing divot buttering up every forbidden nook and cranny inside you with sappy splotches of pre - you felt so heavy with him halfway inside. 
“Ah ahh- Toji– you’re in s-so d-deep-” You’re mindlessly rovering your fingers over to feel for that fattened, cylindrical outline of his nudging further and further up your gummy orifice. Big, pearly tears bead at your eyes and make him grin. “Can feel you right h-here. Dunno if I can take m-”
But in the blink of an eye, your slackened maw is being flooded with such stringy wads of spit. Streaming in a slicked mess from Toji’s curled lips before spattering onto your tastebuds. “If ya can t-take this, then you can take all of me, doll.”
Shrieking at the plummy twitch of his split cockhead swashing another wad of ribbony pre. “R-really?”
“Mhmm, Toji’s always hgh- right.” The fat curves of his fingers smush your mouth closed. To swallow. He swipes away a few speckles at the corner of your pretty mouth, pecking an innocent smooch against your lips to wipe those excess remnants cleanly off. “H…heh- good girl. Now get ready for hah- Toji’s biiig stretch.”
Leisurely swiping down one set of his fingerpads to scissor your puffy pussy lips further and further open. Herculean hips rolling to make you gulp down more more more-
“S-See? Didn’t I hah- say this cute cunt could ngh- take me?” Toji can’t help but crush your pliant body with the weight of his muscular thighs, heaving - practically plastering his sculpted front into yours. “Take this fuckin’ cock- the one you said was too big.”
God, he thinks he could almost laugh - fucking giggle like he was air-headed at how pretty you looked underneath him like this .
Your pupils practically heart-shaped and crossing with every jackhammering roll of his hips, tongue lolling out in a way that makes him spit all over again. 
“Mhm- just one more fuckin’ inch now, ma.” Well, more like three - but Toji had the feeling you were too cockdrunk to tell the difference, anyway. And with a sodden slap! against your perked clit, he’s curling a calloused few digits around your throat. “Better take it all now.”
Dragging you - biceps flexing when he manhandles you from your throat to push you down millimeter by millimeter, suck him snugly down your elastic walls. And you didn’t know whether you were lightheaded because of that choking restraint or because of the stretch-
But then…
“Oh- Oh?” And something in Toji’s tone makes you blink your thoroughly glassy gaze to rationality. “Fuck- wait-” Toji gasps, he heaves. Willowy eyes bulging, snarling when he feels his ears pop! “Wait, don’t tell me- m’really…really…”
He was. 
Now, Toji never claimed to be an optimist - he never said he was a miracle-worker but fuck- was this real? You were really, really milking all of him? This was what it felt like being buried balls-deep inside you? 
God, he could die right now between your legs and still be a happy man.
Because he feels like his entire body has been zapped with a zillion bolts of electricity - like he’s in heaven. Stemming all the way from the lustrous little thwack! of his pulpy tip against your spongy cervix. 
“Are- are you all the way inside?” You’re sobbing out, whines clawing at your throat with every smooth whack of Toji’s fattened cock into your goopy depths. 
“I…” And Toji wants to answer - he wants to not look like a wordless fool in front of you but he can’t right about now. Scarred lips falling parted, he can barely even breathe right about now. Sharp jaw slacking open into a sexily husky laugh, “Yes. Hah! Atta girl, there we g-go. Knew my girl could ngh- do it.”
“Too big” his ass. 
In the lazy blink of your weepy eyes, Toji has the two of your sweat-simmered bodies flipped over. Your own glued to his toned front, nails clawing at his bulging deltoids, head drooping between his cushiony pecs.
Bubbles of spit and pure whines flood your mouth when the massive mountains of Toji’s palms sift underneath your thighs to help you ride. Starting off slow - stumbling - presenting you with languid, tumbling thrusts that shape your fleshy insides to every ridge and curve of his cock. 
Roughened digits pushing you down. Even more. 
“Now…here comes the fun part tha’s gonna end up with you heh- pregnant, ma.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 10.25 inches
“Am I…am I really that big?” 
If this was anyone other than your dear Nanami you’d have huffed at that subtle brag of a question - but Nanami wasn’t bragging. And he wasn’t aware of just how much that simply sopping slide of his blushing shaft into your gooey depths was splitting you apart. 
“Y-yes–” you’re mewling out, tangling your fingers with his thick ones to trek them all over your stuffed lower tummy. And Nanami gasps at the bloated nudge of his fat tip against your buttery walls. The outline. That you can feel from the outside. The curvature of his greedy thumb smearing down the mushy rounded edges tenderly. “S’like m’gonna hngh- break.”
Stern lips puckering up to kiss away the pearly tears that lather your fluttery lashes, he’s rumbling from the back of his throat. “Shhh…if you c-can’t, my love, then we can always-”
“Noooo-” God, Nanami loved to see that smack mouth of yours wobble with a few breaking whines, falling into a soft oh! when your squirmy hips shuffle a ravenous few gulps of more and more of his inches. “Want it- want it all.”
“Are you sure, darling? M’only halfway in right now.”
Nodding - nodding and nodding because you’ve never wanted anything more. A simpering trailway of drool sloshes from the slackened corner of your mouth when he’s slapping his weepy cockhead in two nice slaps into your extra sweet orifices. 
He was long and thick - unfairly so. Equipped with heavy breeder balls that thump! thump! thumped against your thighs in the same needy rhythm as your heartbeat. Messy. The tannish blushing divot on his mushroomy tip barely even having to try to sugarcoat your goopy depths with a sweltering hot few splotches of creamy pre- 
“Then…” Nanami’s wrenching you out of your cockdrunk little daydreams, and you’re faced with his utterly loving gaze. “You can hah- hold my hand- squeeze it if it gets too…much, my love.”
As if you ever would tap out.
Because the stretch was so addictive. 
Every single one of his shuddering drives making your dewy eyes sprint all the way hidden at the back of your lids. The exact degree of his arch having you let off a few keens, legs thrashing with the depraved kiss of his sappy cockhead against your g-spot. 
“Hey hey-” Nanami’s slanting his mouth over the rivulets upon rivulets of cold sweat beading at your forehead. And in turn you desperately crane upwards to kiss his plush pecs. “Remember what we talked about hngh- before?”
“Y-yes. Simple breathing techniques ah-” you’re crying out as he sneaks in a good swab down your slippery walls. “S’best to oh! Take slow, d-deep…long breaths to relax.”
Nanami chuckles out at your whiny little emphasis, every slow breath of yours helping his dexterous fingers guide that hooked bend of his knotted cock to bump into your treasured spots. Deeper.  “Mhmm– good girl, relax. What else?” 
“A-and- focus on one part of your ah- body t-to-” You can feel your weepy cunt pulse – thoroughly full and just about all that you could focus on. Inch by fucking inch disappearing. “-to boost awareness and…relax.”
Yeah, certainly enough for Nanami to tut when your glutinous pussylips tack on even tighter around him to halt his merciless pathway. 
“Hate to see ya strugglin’, darling. Hold on t-tight-” Nanami’s blond brows simmer with a fresh sheen of perspiration at the tiny resistance. Strong arms dredging your useless legs up onto his broad shoulders. Indenting circular bruises with just how hard your heels were digging in. But oh, he doesn’t care. Doesn’t give a shit if it hurt - instead, planting a sweet few pecks at your ankles. “Because s’a bit of a biiiig stretch.” 
He’s hiking one athletic thigh up even higher, adonis-like muscles flexing when Nanami arches his back and bends you easily in half. 
Sweetly toying a few circular brushes of his fat thumb against your neglected clit. You’re at the utter mercy of the deepening angle walloping his crownhead into your spongy cervix. Dragging his wet tip in a saccharine few ribbons of velvety pre, you’re being absolutely flooded with the sheer size of him. With all of him-
“I-is it all in?” You’re sobbing out, only for Nanami to stray his hypnotized eyes accordingly downwards and gasp. 
“S’all in- ohhhh s’all in- my perfect, perfect girl.” Nanami’s regal nose crinkles with sheer bliss, condensely fogged-up glasses leering further and further down his nosebridge. “N’ s’like y-you’re gonna be hngh- split apart, darling.”
And it felt like it.
Like Nanami was trying to mold your rubbery cunt into the exact shape of him, sticky kisses of his tight balls making you shy. To make sure with every bruising circumference of his overfed tip that you won’t forget him. Forget his size.
“G-gonna hafta get this pretty pussy hngh- used ta me.” He’s tilting his head down at that addictive image of your slurping pussy greedily sucking up every drilling jackhammer, every gyration, every grind just to watch the way your eyes bulge when he’s probing deeply into your cervix. “Jus’ hafta hngh- fuck her to the sh-shape of my cock oh!”
Every clingy squeeze of your gluey walls felt like you were doing that exact thing, and Nanami can’t help but let his toned hips poke languidly into your slicked g-spot. Sloshing a few tender dabs when he’s latching his mouth around your ankles to bite. To worship. 
And it makes you sob. It makes you moan. It makes you cum - gasping in surprise at the sudden crash of your high, legs locking around Nanami’s thick neck.
You’re feeling limp - your eyes half-shuttering to a close at the flurries of stars in your vision. Barely even able to breathe let alone register the simpering smile plastering all over Nanami’s face when he locks your ankles behind his head with one ravenous hand. 
Still moving. Still aching. 
“My love…” He’s starting off. Low. Promising. You’re being gifted with a slow, slow filth of a kiss, still having his pretty lips sucking on your tongue when he hums. “Don’t think I’ve molded you ta my ngh- cock jus’ yet.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 9.54 inches
It’s been hours now - hours. 
Hours of Geto cracking open your trembly legs to mouth over that glossy wetness between them, making out with your slobbery pussy for ages until you were still dizzy with the slow tangle of his soft tongue against your treacly clit. 
Still feeling the aftershocks of your nth orgasm when he’s flooding out a few viscous spurts of cum that slop between your pursed pussy lips. Gleaming sultry little lip-stain that he’s oh-so-unashamedly swabbing along a few fingers.
“Hmmm, now this won’t do–” Geto’s popping those slender digits into his mean mouth, snickering at the awe-struck little gasp you’re letting off. “Ain’tcha embarrassed to be th-this fucked n’ I’ve only put the tip in, gorgeous?” 
He was so unfair. 
Dark brows marrying together sexily when he’s spending a sloppy few seconds pretending to think, “Whaddaya think? Can you ah- take me even when you’re being this full?”
And full you were - being teased over and over again. Fucked with only the hefty, globular curve of his pretty, pierced cockhead until your poor pussy was frosted with a thick, creamy lather of Geto’s seed. Trickling between your legs and splotching over where you were hovering over his muscular thighs, bouncing with your precarious seated position. 
Huffing, one hand of yours grapples onto the mountainous terrain of Geto’s sculpted deltoid. The other curling around his pale, sweat-slicked throat in a way that made him drool. “Been w-wantin’ all of ya you, all this ngh time, Sugu–”
SMACK!
“Speakin’ out of turn is rude, y’know?” Geto soothes over the swatted imprints of his fingers on your ass. Before rovering down, down, down, to dredge out the most sinful slurps when he slides one greedy index over your sodden slit. “Right? N’ we were havin’ such a ngh- good conversation.”
That cold studded Prince Albert on Geto’s blushing mushroom tip skims between your pussyflaps, feeding you inch by fucking inch until he stopped just past the tip. As usual. 
“Hmmm, what’s this?” Pointedly ignoring your broken little whines in favor of guiding his trekking fat crown to bump that metallic piercing against your gooey sweet spots. To bruise. “Ya want more? Heh, so filthy how ya think ngh- more with this pussy than that pretty lil’ head of yours, gorgeous.”
“You’re the filthy one, Suguru–” you’re whimpering, fingers digging even tighter around his throat at the rude smirk on his pretty face. And you can’t stop yourself - you can’t help yourself - when your hips shiftily sink deeper. And deeper. 
“W-woah-” Geto’s puffy breaths hiccup, before clearing his throat into one stray hand. “I-I mean- fuck! Can see it from the outside.”
Indeed, he could. 
You were so fucking pretty sat upon him like this, with your slobbery pussy weaving out squelching rivulets of cum. Your chest heaving in a way that makes Geto’s mouth water, his eyes locked on that lecherous little bulge where he was scouring a pathway to your very womb.
He’s giggling - delirious and drunk. “What a cute lil’ pussy- s-sooo fuckin’ tight. Feels like m’gonna break ya…h-heh.”
And it’s only when you stutter, when our drizzling jaw shudders open with a cracking Sugu– that he lets his eyes rip away. His hips jutting upwards with a pressurized push-
“Awww, my gorgeous girl struggling to take this hah- big cock? Wanna take it all but you can’t?” With a rough hand latched onto your waist, Geto fucks up into you so tauntingly, rigorous little pushes and pulls that pump you spellbound. And he’s viciously thumping open your sappy pussylips, mouth drying up at the sight of those silvery sploshes of cum. “Y’know m’not gonna fit if ya don’t relax, girl.”
“I-I am relaxing-” you’re bawling out, head lolling backwards at the utter stretch. It was ridiculous, and your blood curdles with just how good it felt. 
Because Geto was so thick. Girth more intimidating than any toy you’ve ever even seen, such a pretty blushing beige. Pricked with one chilling silvery stud at his tip and then another at his bulky hilt, right after the ends of his neat happy trail - one that you oh-so-desperately wanted to reach.
“Liar.” He’s snapping - snarling. 
Making you flinch at the lurch of something dark and hot swimming in Geto’s half-lidded eyes. Long, dark lashes batting innocently up at you when he’s lacing two sets of readied fingers on top of your sweat-dampened head and pushing. “W-wait, Sugu what are you-”
“This pussy is s-soo much more ah- honest…aren’tcha?” And it takes only one more final rapid swat at your gloopy cunt, one wet strike of Geto’s round-tipped fingers before he’s bulldozing you downwards. “Hm, bite on this.”
He’s presenting you his toned arm - mercy. 
Your teeth mindlessly clamping onto his awaiting forearm, gurgles of moans and screams concocting together as your hips buck- Losing your nervous footing to finally plant a pretty peck of your glossed pussy lips against his toned base, to finally have his orbed piercing nudge your throbbing clit. 
And he was big - so, so big that you couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe at the sodden stripes of his pulpy cockhead etched into what felt like your lungs. 
With a soggy pah! you’re letting his arm go, kissing over the sunken indents of your teeth across his flesh.
“O-oh-” Moans upon moans are tumbling out of your mouth before you even realize, and you can’t help the way that your hips are bustling up and down in a filthy cadence. “I-It feels so…”
Alternating between the sloppiest drags up and down up and down his thickened length and lazy swivels that result in fat drags of Geto’s piercing onto the mushiest parts of your clit. He was so fucking big that your fatigued legs could barely even bounce up to his uprightly curved tip. 
“Yeahhh? F-feels nice havin’ me all ngh- inside ruinin’ your cunt, huh?” Geto’s leaning his body further backwards to take in every single detail of you. One arm bounding behind his head and making his biceps flex, the other helping manhandle your needy hips. And you swear you hear his voice falter, you swear you could hear his teasing baritone crack into a whine. “Look how ah- well she’s takin’ me- don’tcha think I deserve a lil’ r-reward, gorgeous?”
Ah, of course he does.
And as soon as you’re craning your head forwards, you feel the sudden twitch of his swollen tip colliding against your cervix. Gushing in ribbony strings of pre when you pry open Geto’s pretty mouth and spit-
“Messy girl.” He’s swiping away that purposeful little splatter of translucent saliva pooling at the corner of his sappy mouth. Swallowing. “Hope ya know m’gonna be doin’ the ngh- same with my cock riiiiight…” Before trailing that very same finger up, up, up to draw an invisible line at the bullseye of your womb. “-here.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 8.20 inches
“Jus’ need the ah- tip, pretty baby–” Choso’s begging - pleading from his splayed-out position spooning you - and he’s fucking his fat, ruddied cockhead into you desperately. Animalistically. Like it’ll be the last time - when in fact it’s the first. Ever. 
Slurring out a drawling few squelches from your overstuffed pussy, the way you’re glistening all your lustrous volumes of slick down his generous length makes Choso simply keen. Hulking body breaking out with shivers once your nails scrape against his sweat-lathered scalp. 
“But I want more, Cho-” That sullen pout of yours is enough to drive him wild. To bump up at least once more of his inches out of a staggering eight past your gooey ring of muscle, molding your entrance to that girthy bend of him. “Y-you’re so fuckin’ big n’ I want it all.”
Oh. 
Oh.
“Y-you shouldn’t say those ngh- things when s’my first time–” he’s scrunching his brows adorably shyly, one strong palm lifting your trembly thigh even higher to eye the teary trail of cum he’d left off just earlier from simply putting it inside. “Don’ wanna have a ngh- r-repeat of that.” 
How cute.
Choso was so embarrassed that his precious pink blush was reaching all the way from his regal cheeks, down to his bustling tip. Messy and angry. 
You’d heard that it was always the quiet ones - and Choso was hung to a T. The expansive swollen outline of his rock-hard cock smearing against your elastic walls in a way that felt permanent. Your poor pussy was swallowing up so many copious inches again and again and it felt like Choso always had more to give. 
His long length guides a sultry bash against your puffy g-spot, spearheading your gluey walls to mold around his size like butter. Swirling such voluminous heaps of cum that layer him in creamy rings.
“M’being serious, baby-” you’re purring, silken sweet tone of your voice making Choso gasp. Handsome cheeks burning bright red when he’d faced your greedy gaze over one shoulder. “I-it feels so good ngh- you’re in so deep.” 
Choso’s coral pink lip wobbles delicately, face flushing your favorite shade of red. “M-me? Don’t even know how to hngh! use it…r-really? Me? But m’just a virgin-”
“Was a virgin, baby-” You’re correcting him, deft fingers nimbling through his soft locks to pull. And it’s enough to make Choso rut- enough to make his reddening hips shovel even harder. “N’ no need to be so shy. You’re so big you might’ve ngh- jus’ ruined everyone f’me.”
And oh. 
Choso can feel his mind shatter, powerful hips working overtime to plunge another sappy stroke that thuds against your g-spot. Deeper. And deeper. You’re half-wondering whether he even realized that he was way, way past “just the tip” now. 
Nah…definitely too pussydrunk to.
He’s sucking on your kiss-bitten lips like his favorite sugar-coated candy, whimpering out. “G-good. Don’ want you f-for ngh- anyone else.” And you swear you’re catching his doe-eyes dew over with a veil of tears. “Want you to be mine.” 
Grinning - cockdrunk, heart-eyed. “Already am.”
And that extended to that greedy cunt of yours. 
Of course, it did. Why wouldn’t it? 
Choso’s on the very verge of sobbing to himself about why he didn’t do this much, much sooner when his dextrous palms smear open the drool-worthy globes of your ass to sneak a long, mouthwatering eyeful of your stuffed pussy. 
He’s so filthy. So urgent skimming two fat thumbs over to spy the way his fattened cock was disappearing between your soppy pussy lips. Fat and heavy, bullying in solid squeezed into your comparatively tiny opening.
And the sight makes him grunt, “S-such a pretty pussy. Could fuckin’ worship her heheh. I hope you don’t ngh- mind, baby, if I…”
Oh, and you didn’t mind. 
Didn’t have a mind coherent enough to think at all when Choso has to scissor your slick-flooded hole open with his thorough digits to be able to fit in the rest of his raw length. Saturated, solid ruts pushing past your tiny resistance - your poor entrance being stretched further and further with his circumference. 
He has to - he needs to because the stretch was so cozily tight. So sinful. Rubbing his ridged veins down the treacly sides of yours walls, you’re being stuffed to the brim. 
His spattering seed glomping out of you and creating such a fucking mess. Helping Choso slip and slide his thighs to engulf your own.
“Pretty pussy…ohhh what a pretty pussy.” He’s hissing to himself - slurring like an intoxicating mantra. Your honeyed squelches were so loud, answering him practically. “Baby, I want you…need you. Need you to take it allll up inside, m’kay?”
And you can only manage out a stream of dripping wet gasps puffing hotly from between your candied lips, shivering at the honeyed drip of his thick crownhead mussing up the sploshes of cum seated inside you. “G-gonna take it- ah-don’t miss, Choso–”
“I’d never.” But the one thing he might do is be rendered utterly stupid when that cylindrical shaft of his plunges impossibly deep into your gooey orifice. As deep as it would go. As deep as he could give. 
And you swear that Choso stops breathing for a full few seconds once he first bottoms out. Still regaining the blurring vision in your gaze with how you felt fit to burst, you’re opening your mouth with slight concern-
“Th-this…feels so heavenly- fuck! Why does it feel so heavenly?” Choso sounds so genuinely awestruck. Scared. Words dripping with the slight tremble of an exhilarated giggle when his sopping tip curves its way to thud! against your cervix. “I- woah th-this doesn’t feel like my fist at all.”
And every slight bit of recoil makes Choso tut, makes him plant pound after pound onto your battered cunt until you see stars. He was fucking you like he hated you - and babbling pussydrunkenly like he loved you.
You’re mewling through bliss-lathered tears, “D-does it feel good, baby?” 
Oh, Choso really did love you.
“I…I’m fucking you-” he’s breathing out. “I-I’m really fucking you and…”At your encouraging little coos, Choso only swelters with a wafting red blush. Buttony divot at the very ends of his achy cock twitching with a promising squeeze of his hefty, full balls. “...can we hold hands as I cum?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 13.3 inches
Nice - the cursed king of curses said he was going to be nice. But if this was his way of being “nice” then you didn’t-
“Tch, that pretty lil’ head of yours scrambled already, brat?” That gruff, rumbling little scolding from underneath you makes you jolt, winding sparks of electricity sprinting down your perfectly arched spine when Sukuna’s punishing your brimful cunt with a sloppy smack! 
Such a sleazy grin overtaking his sexy features at the stunned expression on your face, he’s bouncing his adonis-like knees to jostle your greedy hips up and down up and down up and-
“Can’t ngh- talk now, huh?” Sukuna’s tittering out, a few more numerous swats upon swats being pounded upon your bulging cunt. And the syrupy squelch! emanating from down below is enough to make him groan. Brows knitting, teeth sharp when he grins. “Honestly, woman- aren’tcha used to that stretch by now?”
Fuck- it would be impossible to get used to such a ridiculous size. 
Sukuna’s towering height of seven feet translating into matching cocks that make you gape, your drunken maw parting stupidly open when his twin swollen lengths plunge up into your goopy depths. Reckless. Rude. Your felt like he was fucking open sweet nooks and crannies that you never even knew existed.
That vulgar size difference was everything.
Because he was so girthy - wisps of precum slathering like torrents against your clingy walls. Tautly pulled over thick thirteen inches - and not just one, two of them - that were making you whine-
“B-but-”
“Ah ah-” Sukuna’s cutting you off, sugary tips pecking a hollowing little smooch of his candy-coated pre against that spot in a way that makes you shut up. “Can’t forget our manners now hngh- can we? Raise yer hand when ya talk to the king.”
And it was a joke…partially. It was something to make your beautiful features scrunch up in that adorable pout of yours - not something to make you wrench one trembly hand upwards and listen to him.
“S-s’not my fault-” you’re huffing out, your wondrous hands roaming all down those sinful curves and dips of Sukuna’s muscles thereafter. Resting on their favorite place at the fleshy mounds of his pecs to squeeze. “You’re just so big.”
Rolling his eyes, you’re being angled so that his oversized second tongue can press a dripping smooch against your plump clit. 
“Compliments aren’t gonna g-get me to be any hngh- nicer, mama- C’mon you know that.” And he’s sure to make it so that you never forget if the merciless few more thwack! of his five fat fingerpads down your teary slit were to say anything. “M’already bein’ nice letting you ride me.”
And ah, he’d never admit how pretty you looked like this.
With your sappy cunt stretched wiiiide open over his bumpy cocks, your entire body lathered in sweat and sheer need when he’s sinking in a few more bulky inches. Puffing your pussy lips up until you were about halfway down his raw, red cocks. 
“But ah…yer right about one thing.” Sukuna titters and the flurries of emotions that overtake your absolutely fucked-out face. Head lolling to the side when you’re trying to remember what you even said. Cute. “Lemme heh- jog that memory o’ yours, brat.”
And it was such a blessing - or a curse - that Sukuna had four arms. Four massive, strong arms that were busying themselves with driving you wild.
Two of them caressing the sultry curve of your hips, manhandling you up and down all his copious inches with all the dignity of a ragdoll. A third clawing on top of your cottony-filled head and forcing you to look- to spy where his fourth hand was. 
Sharp, blackened nail of his burly index tapping those ringed tattoos at his inner thighs. “See these?” Doesn’t matter if you didn’t because Sukuna was making your cockdrunk head motion out a nod for him anyway. “Well- then see these?”
Oh, you had to crane your head - you had to stop your condensed gasp from dripping out of your mouth when he’s swiping his fingers across those matching black rings tattooed around the very hefty hilts of his cocks. 
Neat. Stark against unruly tufts of pink. Lacquered with a glistening layer of your sweet, sweet juices. 
“Gotta take it ah- allll the way until there, got it?” Sukuna muses, plummy split-ends of his shafts pummeling even harder against the gumdrop sponge of your walls. Very same finger drawling lazily up, up, up until he was drawing a smug line across way past the middle of your tummy. “So get r-ready for a biiiig stretch, mama.”
And it wasn’t just the stretch - not even the double stretch - triple. Triple the invasive rummages inside your snug channel when Sukuna’s swirling his large secondary tongue to lap up every sliver and every bead of slick slobbering from your cunt. 
Sloshing a gleaming trailway down the very middle of his rosette tastebuds so lewdly when Sukuna grits against the resistance, hips pushing and pushing-
“Ah- ah!” Your hips are like a pendulum still deciding between swallowing up more more more and running away. “I-I don’t think it’ll ngh- dunno if I can t-take any…”
“Nuh uh, no running away.” Sukuna’s greedy hands devour every naked inch of you to stuff you full, tongue working overtime to push open that elastic entrance to your pretty cunt. He knew you could finally take it all. He knew. And he was going to do it. “Made yer bed- now- lie- in it-”
There’s a deafening pap! of your body glissading into his when with a final, determined thrust, Sukuna’s bottoming out. Your pussy lips smooching both his sexy circular tattoos with their first-ever kiss. For the first time in a thousand years. For the first time in his life-
This is what it feels like - this is what it looks like.
You were so stuffed past the brim that you could feel your pressurized ears pop! White-hot pleasure flashing behind your lids when your mouth opens with a raw shrill. 
“So? S’it feel good bein’ all ruined inside?” He’s tittering - choking on rude little whimpers threatening to spill from his even ruder lips. 
“Yes- please it f-feels so…”
And then you’re cumming.
“Oh? Cummin’ already just from taking that cock you said was hngh- t-toooo fuckin’ big?” He leaves a few ravenous bites over the tender crook of your neck. “What a heh- slutty cunt o’ mine.”
Sukuna’s realizing before you when his hips rut upwards into the tight fit to pound you through your high, over and over slapping his heavy cockheads against every tiny geyser of an orifice. Until you felt like you were about to burst-
“O-ohhh look at that gorgeous ngh- bulge.” Sukuna’s voice bleeds its way into a whimper - whimper. And if any other curse saw that heart-eyed filter in his gaze, the way his smile grows simpering, then they’d faint. “Almost makes me think of something…else.”
You, all round and glowing - and not just from the thorough rummage of his dual shafts messing up your poor insides. Outlined with thick cylindrical bumps forming their way at your precious womb. 
The sight is enough to make Sukuna’s heavy-handed cockheads glaze your mushy cervix with a few ribbony spurts of pre. Flooding. Overspilling. Enough do that he’s digging in a thumb hard to feel for the soppingly wet thwack! of those volumes of velveteen splatters.
Murmuring, “Y’know…how do ya feel about the curses getting an ah- new heir, brat? And their very own queen.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - 7.64 inches
“Shhhh, jus’ an inch more- only an i-inch, pretty.” Ino’s heaving, his plummy, split-ended cockhead gushing out a lazy few rivulets of syrupy pre down your sappy slit. “I know that you can do it…take s’more f’me?”
“I-I want to-” you’re gasping out, legs wrangling an even tighter grip around the slender curve of your beloved boyfriend’s toned hips. Mashing his ridged washboard abs against the sensitive backs of your thighs, “But I don’t know if it’ll fit…”
You say that but you can already feel the way your elastic cunt was constricting and molding to the exact sinful curvature of Ino’s swollen cock. Wanting more more more-
But how could you not?
He was so unfairly pretty - fat, burling inches that rummaged your insides with a sugary layer of sloshing precum. It’s like his plump tip was bawling with every smack! down your puckering pussylips, reddening with an innocent flush that matched his cute cheeks. 
“I want it- no, need it to ah- g-go all the way inside-” Ino’s panting begs stumble into your deliriously open maw, the slick gyrations of his tongue tasting you. Savoring. Ringed fingers splayed out and pressing down hard onto the heaving surface of your tummy. “-need everyone t-to know how I’ve ngh- ruined ya for them.”
It’d only taken one sneaking glance at the way some loser at your work was a little too close, a little too…flirty. Simply one spark of that green-eyed monster inside him for Ino to all but drag you home and bend you into such a mean mating press. 
His pummeling hips even meaner. Babbling with every dousing swab of his fattened cockhead probing into your goopy depths. Pushing and pushing. “W-wanna be good f’you, y’know? Wanna be…yours.”
“Ngh- s-sweet-talker-” You’re spitting out, heart lurching oh-so-traitorously at the little blush dusting its merry way all over Ino’s handsome cheeks. He’s ready to burst into flames when you’re hiccuping, “Fuck me, baby- with all of you.”
Those words are barely out of your mouth - the thought barely even registering in Ino’s fuzzy scribble of a brain right now before he’s tugging his hips back a sodden inch and sinking in.
“Mhmmm- don’t worry, pretty-” Ino’s gruffing, scorching beads of sweat forming a dotty mosaic over his blissed-out features. “-Taku’s gonna make it fit- h-heh, yeahhhh m’gonna make it ngh- fit-” So snug that he can’t pound into the way he wants you. Huffing at the resistance, he’s latching onto your peaked clit with a pointed pinch. “-or m’gonna die trying hah.”
A promise - well and fully intended to be made true. 
Abs flexing with every tight little grind that whacks against your sweetened spots, short. Punctuating. Harder and harder until you’re hearing a watery pap! and Ino’s finally - finally - driving you overwhelmingly full with the ruthless dab of his angry, peach-pink shaft impaling open your deepest insides. 
“O-oh.” Ino’s breathing out, chestnut eyes bulging out almost comically at the sloppy trawl of his rock-hard cock in and out. “It fit- it…it actually fit. Mhm- s’that too big for ya, pretty?”
And Ino loved your smart mouth - he loved whatever honeyed syllable would drivel from your pretty lips. But seeing you like this - gasping, and fucked oh-so-dumb on his cock - Ino thinks that he could cum right here and now.
“R-right now?” Your breath hitches, chest heaving to steady your gulping inhales. Impossible with the way that his girthy, rotund cockhead was skimming against what felt like your lungs. 
But oh, you weren’t the only one with your sanity dancing away from you with every plunging jackhammer. Ino looked so ruined - his pretty eyes doeing down till they were almost closed, drizzles upon drizzles of drool flooding out and slicking down his mouth, hanging pathetically open when he’s realizing-
Shit, did he say that out loud?
Oh, well. 
“And so wh-what?” Ino’s huffing out - meant to be much more smug than the pouty whine it actually came out as. Lower lip wobbling out in a watery way, “Wanna fill ya u-up until yer overspilling, sweetness- until I can’t hahah- fit again.”
He’s making such a sappy mess down there as if already fulfilling those promises. One clammily prespired hand latching around your throat to crane your neck into a tender kiss. 
“Wanna fuck a b-baby into ya- ngh- fuck ya until they know I did it-” He’s snarling - alabaster canines beared in a giggle. “Till they s-see you all ah- round and glowing and see me me me me- that coworker’s gonna know that I-I did that. That I fucked you s-so full.” 
Heavy thighs planting flat onto the cushiony mattress, and from the woozy corner of your eye you’re spotting a few bedcoils spring brokenly upwards. “Gonna gimme that, aren’tcha?” He’s breathing. Begging. Eyes fuzzy with a heavy clingfilm of utter loving that he was bestowing upon you with every pap! pap! pap! “Make me a dad, mama?”
Shrilling out hoarsely, “Yes- yes yes yes- I- fuck! M’close, Taku…m’gonna cum-”
Ah, just as you do - Ino plants a gliding thwack! against your g-spot so hard that it makes your eyes criss-cross with utter pleasure. Tumbling into your orgasm headfirst and dragging your dear Ino with it, too. 
Each peaked crevice of your high being followed by the wettest slap of his lathering cum into your most tenderized spots, fucking his seed into you so viciously that you feel bloated. Eyes drooping fatiguely, your nails dragging red, red patterns down his rigorously flexing back. 
It was heaven. 
You can’t think of anything but the slow puddle of viscous seed dribbling from between your slippery slit, nothing but how full you felt. Barely even noticing the creaking protests of the bedframe that was suspiciously sagging from one end.
Broken. 
And when Ino’s blinking his vision back - letting his mouth drool at the sloppy slosh of his ribbony sap clinging around him like a second skin - the only thing he can utter is a low, “S-so…I don’t think we’ve ngh- made our son just yet.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 11.01 inches
“Aw c’mooon, my girl. Too big- s’too big, riiight?” Fuck- it was. And Gojo already knew with every cocky snicker that wafted over the back of your neck like an oven. He’s plumping his lips down your spine in a sleazy kiss. “Jus’ admit it n’ I might play…nice.”
As if. 
The strongest would never play nice when he had you like this.
When he had his fat, strawberry pink tip French kissing your gluey walls so open. Bumping up against your precious insides to indent every ridge and curvaceous vein against your overstuffed pussy - so staggeringly full. But he still wasn’t done. Barely. 
So ridiculously long and pretty - a size to match up that mean ego of his. Eleven inches? He didn’t even have to try to drive you insane. 
Gojo was flushed the most candied palettes of pink and red, all the way up to his thickened base. Slender fingers curling dexterously around the white tufted hilt to slowly empty out thick drags of buttery pre just past your throbbing g-spot. “Unless ya want-” Inching ever-so-sinfully closer. “-more?”
It was just a little tease - really, it was. Something to make your cute pout jut out, and your gooey insides clench.
But what Gojo didn’t expect was for thick, viscous droplets of saliva to splatter from between your lips at the sheer mind-numbing stretch. Babbling out into the spit-lathered mess of a pillow. “I- I want- ngh- Toru…”
“Yes yes, your dear Toru is hah- here.” And shit, he can’t help but saddle a strong forearm around your neck to hoist your lolling head upwards in a rude headlock. Making such a mess of glimmering dribble seep into the bulging bicep around your neck. You’re feeling the sappy drag of his long tongue down those puddled splatters of spittle, “Talk to me…tell me…complain about how big I am- I know you want to.”
You’re gasping when he’s leaving a pretty stinging smack! against your treacly cunt, muscular thighs shuffling against your own like a second skin. “I want…”
Every garbling syllable of your pretty voice making him twitch. Depraved. “Mhm—?”
“All of it- More.”
More?
CRASH!
Shit- maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed how the flickering yellow lamp at your bedside shatters into a zillion pieces. And how Gojo was much the same. 
Slamming one dexterous free palm down onto the already-splintered headboard, you’re catching it crack underneath his vice-like clasp when Gojo hitches his breath and pushes. Wordless. Keening. Mean maw slacking parted with a low ah! ah! ah! at the sweltering hot pulse of his ever-hardening cock.
“S-Satoru did you just get-” bigger. It’s the word you can’t bring yourself to utter even if you wanted to - because Gojo’s swatting his doughy palm to entrap your whiny words. 
Hiding your watery sobs when his engorged dick ravines past the adhesive-like grip of your slick-flooded entrance to perk up even harder. 
Rasping, “Shhhh sh sh- Another word outta you n’ m’gonna cum.” Entire herculean body hitching - shuddering - to pin you to the velvety sheets like he was practically melting into you. You’re sandwiched into the sweaty glissade of his rugged washboard abs. Jolting at the miniscule lightnings of blue that bolt from his lazily lidded eyes, “Tell me how badly ya want the hngh- biiiig stretch, sweetheart.”
So embarrassing, “I-I want the…biiig stretch, Satoru.”
He’s humming with utter delight, “Louder- more.”
“Please.” Legs kicking in impatience, “I want it- w-want your hck! biiig stretch, Toru. Want it so bad-”
“Then, b-brace yourself…heh.”
Something’s cracking - breaking - only hours and hours later do you realize that it’s your poor mahogany bedframe underneath Gojo’s utter strength. 
Knuckles whitening when one sickly sweet rut has his toned abs careening into your mounds of flesh. And that tight little bout of resistance makes him stutter out a hiss, teeth clenching. “Christ, s’fuckin’ tight- n-need more.”
You words had done such a number on him. 
And Gojo wanted more - needed it. More more more-
With a sopping pap! Gojo’s sludging his hefty length out from your elastic hole, purposefully peaking his inflated veins against those treasure troves of your tender spots. Emanating out such a sinful squelch! of wiry slick-filled slurps the moment his globular crownhead is popping out of your gooey cunt. 
“L-look downwards, my girl-” he’s mumbling, tongue slurring those pesky little whines into his words. And oh, Gojo himself can’t bear to spy his ravenous gaze down below because of that dangerous little high building up at his tight, nudging balls. Can’t bear to do anything but let his sapphire gaze droop half shut. 
Tumbling your head down, “Toru what do you- oh!”
Gojo was so fucking needy. That mouthwateringly sculptured arm around your neck taking its second favorite position to warp around his sweltering hot cock and squeeze. 
You can only watch when he’s beading out wispy little ropes of precum that gloss your pussy lips a creamy white. Connecting delicate little ropes of your sweet, sweet juices to his bawling cockhead.
It was soiling his hand ivory, his wrist, his cloudy happy trail - he was being so messy. 
“Yeah- see this? Take a loooong hah- hard look, sweetheart. Yer gonna take this entire c-cock, m’kay–?” Gojo’s nuzzling his sweat-glimmered cheek down your down, stray strands of white sticking to your skin. Pumping his fist harder - harder. He’s scooping up a syrupy few dredges of sap to poke into your awe-struck mouth, “Gonna take i-it all. No matter how big- mhm?”
You’re whining when his intimidating length nestles between your thighs and pulses, the very brim of his curved tip swiping a sweltering hot drag of pre about half-way down your tummy. The size difference looked so sinful.
And you’re barely nodding - barely whimpering out a polite yes, please - before your mind shatters with the feeling of being split-apart. With every hidden nook and cranny caverning your sloppy pussy being stretched to the max.
“Yeah- yeah yeah c’mon-” Gojo’s begging. Pearly white teeth digging into his pulpy lower lip when his blushing shaft fringes down your clingy walls. “Go inside- fit- please- need ta give m-my girl everythin’.”
Needed - not wanted. 
Gojo doesn’t even have to try for his left-leaning curve to locate your most coveted spots, spurting out waterfalling little geysers of slick from between your thighs with every gulping inch.
“Oh- oh mmpf!” You’re mewling when his furious divot mashes into your nearby g-spot. Easily. Too easily that you’re half-wondering whether he’s using his Six Eyes. “It’s s-shoo deep.”
You’re being jostled in a sultry dance back and forth when Gojo’s planting rummaging pound after pound just to fit inside. The slamming smack! smack! smack! of his muscular thighs imprinting against the backs of yours fucking out each and every coherent thought out of your mind. 
And with absolutely no hesitation, he’s skimming numerous buzzing fingertips from one hand over to toy around your clit and pinch. Barely even realizing the startling spark of jujutsu that makes you yelp-
“Toru- wh-what did we say about…” Shrilling shrieks withering away on your tongue when- what were you complaining about again? Gojo’s incredible inches sheath their cozy way into your gummy cunt - fully. “O-oh.”
Oh was right. 
Because he had finally bottomed-out. Finally. Gasping at the sudden thud! of those ladder-like abs smooching the pretty curve of your ass. The bouncing recoil of his swollen cockhead against your pulpy cervix. Gojo can’t help but run his hands over your jiggling flesh to make sure - to register that this was real. 
Having your slobbery pussy wrapped around every needy inch of him? This must be a dream.
He’s struggling to catch his breath, gulps sounding high. Thumbing apart your sodden pussyflaps, Gojo’s rich baritone hitches adorably. “You- yer really m-milkin’ my entire fuckin’ cock…” 
Bleary eyes snapping open and veering pathetically cross-eyed, Gojo’s snowy brows scrunch achingly together when both stumbling hands latch onto your waist and pounces a harsh thrust. Thickened, hefty balls swatting your clit heavily. Once. Twice. 
And the third - barely even a swirling gyration of his slicked-up cock drilling into the spongy flesh of your cervix before he cums. Cums and cums so hard that it feels like copious orgasms upon orgasms piling all into one.
Feeling like he was bursting - just like the wreckage of generators across all twenty-three special wards in Tokyo this very second. Electricity flickering, Gojo’s eyes glowing, and you two don’t even notice the way the bed crashes! down onto the carpeted floors as if it had been hovering a slight inch.
“W-wait tha’s cheating-” he’s puffing out furiously, but he can’t stop. Luscious ounces of seed gumdropping out from his divot to laminate your poor cervix - no doubt battered and bruised at this point. A fat thumb of his caps your leaky slit with the voluminous dredges of splattering cum gushing haplessly out of you. “This is s’pposed to s-stay inside, sweetheart.”
It was too much - you were overfilled to the very brim of your glistening pussy folds. 
But Gojo didn’t sound upset - not in the slightest.
No, in fact, he was smiling. 
Cerulean pupils molding practically heart-eyed, a burning blush washes over those handsome cheeks and all the way down to his still-twitching, still-hard cock- “Sooooo…marry me?”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - 8.89 inches
“S’for your own good, angel.”
“B-but, Hiromi–” Oh, you were already winning - and you knew it - you’re feeling that perky little dab of syrupy pre that butters up your insides. Just the mere sound of your voice enough to make Higuruma twitch, “I want you now.”
To make him jolt, to make him sigh. 
Long, dextrous fingers of his tightening around that vice-like little restraint of his tie shackled around your neck - just the scratchy dig of that velvety fabric into your tender flesh makes you lightheaded. 
“I already told ya.” Higuruma’s sighing, sleepy eyes peaking up at where your trembly figure was riding the fucking soul out of him. Or, at least, was supposed to. “Don’t want ya hah- hurtin’ yerself the first time ya take me, don’t want my girl’s pussy sore.”
But what you were aching for right now was him. 
Bucking your hips in a stubborn little up and down that makes his thin lips curl, canines bared. Feral. “Fine- slutty angel.”
And you barely have the time to process his words - to process the stinging sensation of his formal office tie constricting around your throat. Before Higuruma’s dragging you down with a thorough flick of his wrist, leveraging the merciless tightrope of his tie to feed your needy cunt inch by fucking inch. 
He’s not stopping when you gasp, not even when big, globular bouts of tears lather your lashes dripping wet. Only pulling you to him like some glorified sex toy- 
“H-Hiromi-” your clammy palms clasp around his pale, bulging biceps to squeeze. Spine arching at the way his staggering size was opening you so deliciously.
“Mhmmm, m’here m’here. Biiig stretch, isn’t it?” Bouncing those bulky, muscular hips of his with years upon years of practice in battle. And right now you were on the receiving end of his ruthlessness, your pussy lips being smeared agape at the hefty cylindrical shaft being bullied into you. “Easy there, girl. Easy. You can take m-my ngh- big cock.”
And Higuruma barely even had to try to get you all shattered on his cock like this was. Because his cock? The absolute prize of your wettest dreams. 
He was so thick and long, nearing nine inches that bumped his throbbing walls in a lewd little massage down your precious treasure trove of sweet spots. That left-leaning angle of his curvature was so droolworthy, meshing a sodden French kiss easily against the bullseye of your g-spot.
But what had you spellbound - what had you so dizzy - right now wasn’t just the stretch. No, it was that tiny, orbing little piercing studded right underneath Higuruma’s deeply indented slit. 
“Hey, doin’ ah- good, angel?” The chilling patch of his metal stud wrenching out the cutest little whimpers from your heated mouth, falling further and further slack with every pretty peck. Every tiny swab of his length being overstuffed into you. “Only an inch more- juuust an i-inch more n’ I want ngh- you to milk it for me.”
“M-me?” You’re pointing at yourself, as if there was anyone else here in this heady bedroom.
“Tha’s right-” Blinking away the clingy film of lust surrounding your eyes, you’re finally noticing the air of something instinctually primal in your dear Higuruma’s ravenous gaze. So at odds with the gentle kiss placed onto your prespired forehead. “While I get some hah- work done, angel.”
Your hips tense when he’s reaching out to grab the phone that had been buzzing on the bedside drawer for quite a while now. Only to get jostled into motion once more with a soft swat! planted onto your jiggling ass. 
Turning the flashing screen to emblazon your vision with the name, Shiu Kong (Work) 
Oh?
Oh.
At your filthy nod, Higuruma’s puffing out a shuddered bout of laughter. Before sliding one fat thumb across the screen and answering, “Hello? Shiu?” Head tilting to the side, another manhandling haul of Higuruma’s massive palm keeps you riding him. “Yeah, I can heh- talk right now.”
“S-so mean–” you’re mumbling, thoroughly not expecting for him to hear and punish another smack! against your ass. 
You couldn’t hear the response - you didn’t even realize that the audio could even hear you before he’s babbling on. 
“The meeting- Oh, that? Ah, jus’ my lovely wife.” Gasping, because Higuruma hadn’t proposed…yet. And the way he was sidling your gummy cunt with hefty, vicious pound after pound to lose himself - to melt into your unsteady arms - made you think he just might. Soon. “She’s uh…strugglin’ with somethin’ ya see.”
Fuck- he knew exactly how to make you work. 
But you knew exactly how to work. 
One hand splaying out between the sweaty valley of Higuruma’s plush chest, you’re eyeing with satisfaction as his dark brows raise. Squeezing that overpriced fabric wrapped around his thick fingers to muffled your leaking whimpers - to choke-
Only for his sharp jaw to fall parted, breath hitching when you jerk your fatigued thighs and ride. Deeper. Sloppier. Further and further until with a heaving shudder your ass smacks against his with a ringing pap!
Loud. 
Undeniable. 
His hefty breeder balls colliding into the jiggling curve of your ass, Higuruma’s massive cock embedding a few perfectly rounded bruises into the back of your pulpy cervix. Streaking a lazy line drawn by his bulbed piercing across each and every sweeping fissure inside you. Once. Twice. 
Again and again-
“A-ah, what?” He’s bumbling absent-mindedly into the speaker, and you’ve never seen him sound so shaky before. Deep baritone cracking into a few whimpering cracks towards the end when one of his thumbs swipe your puffed-up pussylips to take a long look at that heavenly sight. “Oh…oh yeah. My wife- sh-she got it…finally.”
And it’s only when you’re drawing out the most whipped splatters of slicked pre, when you’re steadying your precarious hands onto his sculptured biceps and slamming a sloppy cadence. Humming, “Y-yeah. Real cute, isn’t she?”
Only when Higuruma looks like he’s on the very verge of ending the call that you’re musing how Shiu must know already.
That blasphemous question on the very tip of your tongue before Higuruma’s attractive eyes widen, chuckling out at words exchanged over the phone that you couldn’t make out. Yet. 
“Oh?” Yeah, Shiu totally knew. Dark eyes boring right into your heart-eyed depths, and when you nod he’s cracking a smile. Pussydrunk. “Mhm, sure, we can videocall.”
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A/N. HIGURUMA NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING???
Plagiarism not authorized.
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cumironi · 4 months ago
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I F☆CK HATE EMO BOYS s. geto & k. choso
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☆ sum. you hate emo boys, you hate how they pretend to be all dark and mysterious, you also hate how they wear nothing but black. there are two emo boys in your class and they seem to notice the hate inside your body— if they d☆ck you down sooo good, are still going to hate emo boys?
warning. college au, dōuble-penetration, manhandling, ōral ( m receiving ), fingēring, semi-public space, anāl, unprotected sēx, geto is annoying,
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you hate emo boys.
you sit cross-legged on the floor of the cramped music room, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glare daggers at the two so-called emo boys sitting on the stage with you. it’s your final project for the semester, and of course, you got stuck with them—choso and geto. you’re already mentally drained by their whole “dark and brooding” shtick, and the fact that they’re in the same art and music major only ensures you’re forced to endure it day after day.
choso is hunched over his electric guitar, strumming out a tune that sounds suspiciously similar to every other broody song he’s ever played. his face is painted with that classic distant, “nobody gets me” expression that makes you want to roll your eyes so far back they might get stuck. meanwhile, geto, who is supposed to be helping with the composition, is lounging on the stage like he owns the place, cigarette dangling from his lips, blowing smoke rings as if he’s above it all.
your patience is wearing thin.
“you know,” you say, voice laced with sarcasm, “sitting around and looking like a dark cloud doesn’t exactly count as helping.”
geto tilts his head, smirking as he blows another lazy ring of smoke, seemingly unfazed by your irritation. his long black hair falls in messy strands around his face, half-tied up in some kind of “effortlessly cool” way that, unfortunately, does suit him. but god, it’s infuriating. the urge to yank that stupid ponytail and force him to actually do something is almost unbearable.
“i am helping,” he drawls, voice dripping with boredom as he stretches out, reclining back on his elbows. “just by being here, i’m setting the mood.”
choso stifles a laugh, not even bothering to hide his amusement at your irritation. you shoot him a glare that could freeze fire, and he just shrugs, clearly used to geto’s antics. “yeah,” choso chimes in, plucking a single, somber note, “besides, nobody asked you to be here either.”
“unfortunately, the professor did,” you mutter under your breath. you’re practically boiling with annoyance, fists clenching. “and we’re supposed to be collaborating, not indulging in whatever dark poet wannabe persona you’re both putting on.”
geto smirks wider, taking another drag of his cigarette as he looks you up and down. “oh, you mean you don’t appreciate my brooding, enigmatic aura? i’m just trying to channel my inner tortured artist,” he responds with mock sincerity. “we’re not all about sunshine and rainbows like you, princess. some of us have a deeper connection to music.”
choso is still snickering as he strums out another note, the two emo boys clearly enjoying your irritation. choso meets geto’s eye with a playful look, as though they’re both in on some secret joke, but you can’t decipher the silent communication between them. he grins, clearly enjoying how easy it is to rile you up. “yeah, it’s not our fault you have the musical taste of a high school pep rally.” his comment earns a snort from geto, who chuckles under his breath.
you scoff, rolling your eyes so dramatically that it’s a miracle they don’t roll right out of your head. their mocking expressions, geto’s cigarette-smoke smile, and choso’s silent snickers grate on you, pushing every button they seem to know so well.
“oh, please,” you say, voice thick with sarcasm as you fling your pen, first at geto and then at choso. it clatters harmlessly beside them, but the message is clear. “i have a deep connection with music too, you know.” your eyes lock onto geto’s, a challenge blazing in your gaze. “just because i don’t act like i’ve lived through a hundred lifetimes of despair doesn’t mean i can’t understand depth.”
geto’s smirk doesn’t falter; if anything, it grows. he leans back, tilting his head slightly, the cigarette dangling between his fingers as he studies you with feigned curiosity. “is that so?” he drawls, looking entirely unconvinced.
you ignore him, turning to choso, who’s still grinning like he’s just heard the best joke of his life. “and by the way, my music taste is nothing like a high school pep rally. just because i don’t sit around and strum sad songs doesn’t mean i don’t know good music when i hear it.”
choso chuckles, shrugging one shoulder as he casually strums another lazy chord on his guitar. “right. suuuure, princess,” he says, the endearment clearly meant to rile you up more.
you take a breath, hands curling into fists at your sides. “if anyone here is all talk, it’s the two of you. maybe if you actually spent half as much time doing the work instead of pretending to be these misunderstood, tragic geniuses, we’d actually finish this project.”
geto and choso share another amused look, enjoying how easily they can get under your skin. geto takes another drag of his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke as he smirks at your fiery response. “cute speech,” he drawls, his voice dripping with condescension. “but forgive me if i don’t quite believe it. you think you understand depth just because you listen to some shallow pop songs and think they’re deep?”
choso chuckles again, clearly enjoying the spectacle, and continues to idly play his guitar with his signature smirk.
geto lets out a low chuckle, leaning forward with an exaggerated sigh. he leans back on one elbow, cigarette balanced between his fingers. “you’ve got us all figured out, don’t you? we’re just two dark, brooding souls living tragically deep, tortured lives. and you’re just… what? some bright ray of sunshine, here to bring us out of our musical abyss?”
choso chuckles again, still plucking at his guitar as he shares another amused glance with geto. “yeah, how lucky we are. our very own little guardian angel, here to save us from our emo ways,” he responds, clearly finding the situation amusing.
geto nods, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing a perfect smoke ring into the air. he studies you intently, his gaze almost calculating as he watches for your reaction. “your enthusiasm is endearing,” he smirks, “but let’s not pretend that you’re anything more than a naive, hopelessly optimistic girl in a class full of brooding, misunderstood artists.”
you glare at geto, feeling the heat of frustration bubbling beneath your skin as his smirk widens with every word he says. the sight of him leaning back, exhaling another plume of smoke as if he owns the world and everyone in it, makes your blood boil. that condescending drawl, that cocky look—god, you hate emo boys.
without thinking, you reach down, grab his bag, and hurl it straight at him. it smacks him square in the chest, and he blinks in surprise, momentarily caught off guard as he catches it before it hits the ground.
“you’re an asshole, suguru,” you snap, voice sharp as you stand up, glaring at both of them. “i hate you and your stupid, tortured artist act. enjoy your ‘depth’ without me.” you turn to leave, gripping your things, determined to escape this room filled with cigarette smoke and smug grins.
geto rolls his eyes, his smirk never faltering as he watches you storm toward the door, clearly amused by your outburst. with a sigh, he stands up, taking his time before following you to the door. “don’t be sooo thin-skinned, sunshine,” he drawls, reaching out to catch your hand, which is already on the doorknob.
you yank your hand back, but he’s faster, his grip firm as he gently pulls your hand away from the door. and before you even realize what’s happening, he twists the lock, the soft click filling the air.
you narrow your eyes at him, frustration flaring again as he stands behind you, his presence way too close. he still has that damn smirk, looking down at you with a mix of challenge and amusement. his hands move to rest on your upper arms, a touch that’s surprisingly gentle but keeps you in place. you tense under his grip, but he’s already nudging you backward, guiding you away from the door, back toward the center of the room where choso is still sitting, half-watching the scene unfold as he idly strums his guitar.
“you know,” geto murmurs, that hint of laughter still in his tone, “maybe you’re taking all of this a bit too personally. it’s not like we don’t appreciate your presence or anything.” he’s leaning in, close enough that his words are more of a soft murmur against your ear.
you huff, rolling your eyes. “oh, sure. you just like having me here to entertain you with my ‘shallow’ music taste, right?”
geto chuckles, his breath ghosting over your ear in a way that sends a slight shiver down your spine. but you push the feeling away, refusing to let his subtle touch affect you. “hmm, something like that,” he replies, his voice a low murmur. “and your little temper tantrums are so cute.”
you slowly turning your head over your shoulder to give him a glare that could melt steel. the audacity. you arch an eyebrow, letting out a huff. “you’re a dog, you know that, right?”
but geto’s smirk only deepens, clearly unfazed. he leans in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “woof woof,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with a mock sultriness that sends a shiver down your spine despite yourself. he’s so close that you can almost feel his smile in that smug tone, knowing full well the effect he’s having on you.
you clench your jaw, trying to ignore the strange flutter that rises in your chest. why did he have to turn everything into a game, a challenge that he somehow always managed to win? your fingers tighten around your things, grounding yourself as you try to shake off the flush threatening to rise to your cheeks.
“ugh, seriously?” you mutter, yanking yourself out of his grasp as you step away, putting some much-needed space between you. “can you be any more insufferable?”
geto just chuckles, taking pleasure in your reaction. he’s clearly enjoying the game of cat and mouse, loving every moment of your frustration. and as you try to step away, his hand snatches the back of your shirt, yanking you back toward him, preventing your escape. he pulls you closer with a fluid motion, bringing you within inches of his smug face.
he leans in, his voice is low and laced with that same hint of mockery. “i can actually be significantly worse. i’m just holding back, princess. you should be grateful.”
choso snickers from his spot on the stage, watching the spectacle with a knowing smirk. he’s seen this song and dance between you and geto countless times, and yet he never gets tired of it. after all, the sight of you and geto at each other’s throats is always a thrilling one.
geto takes a minu step closer, closing the distance between you two. his grip tightens on the back of your shirt, keeping you in place. “so, what are you going to do now, sunshine? keep huffing and puffing, or are you going to give in?”
you roll your eyes, crossing your arms, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “maybe i should start carrying a spray bottle for you two,” you snap back, though the playful edge in your voice betrays your amusement.
choso laughs outright, a sharp bark of laughter, while geto chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. “oh, a spray bottle? how original, princess,” geto teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “go ahead. i could use a good misting.” he takes another step closer, the heat of his body nearly close enough to touch yours. his grip on your shirt is still firm, but you can feel his fingers tracing small circles on the fabric, a subtle display of possessiveness.
choso chuckles as he strums out another chord on his guitar. “yeah, we’re not kittens you can just spray with water,” he remarks. “but we might respond to treats.” you roll your eyes, scoffing at choso’s words. “as if i’d give you two anything resembling a treat. you don’t do anything that deserves one,” you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm.
geto smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction, and inches even closer, closing the already narrow space between you two. you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your hands, which you’ve instinctively placed on his chest to push him back, but he doesn’t seem inclined to give you the space you need. instead, he just leans in further, his gaze unwavering and challenging as his fingers continue to lightly trace along the hem of your shirt, a subtle, infuriating reminder that he’s got you exactly where he wants you.
choso’s smirk deepens as he lifts his hand, extending his middle and ring fingers in a subtle, teasing wiggle that makes your cheeks burn instantly. “oh, i can do plenty that deserves a treat,” he murmurs, his voice carrying just the right mix of mischief and challenge, the playful gleam in his eyes only adding to his boldness.
your face flushes as you glare at him, momentarily stunned by his audacity. “pervert,” you snap, rolling your eyes in an attempt to cover up the blush creeping up your face. geto chuckles, clearly amused by your reaction, and leans even closer, his breath warm against your skin as he adds, “oh, i think we hit a nerve there, didn’t we, sunshine?”
you turn your glare back at him, trying to shake off the heat that’s already spreading across your face. “maybe if you two idiots put half as much effort into this project as you do into annoying me, we’d actually be done by now.”
geto snickers, unfazed by your insults. “oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that?” he retorts, his voice dripping with mockery. “and honestly, annoying you might be more enjoyable than your whole music taste.”
choso chuckles from his spot on the stage, clearly enjoying the back and forth as he idly strums out a lazy chord on his guitar. “come on, admit it. you love the attention,” he teases with a knowing smirk. “how else would we keep you from fleeing the room?”
geto’s eyes glint with a devilish spark as he draws out the word, “but…” letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you tense up in anticipation. before you can even fully register his intentions, he wraps an arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off your feet, his strength catching you off guard. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist to steady yourself, a surprised gasp escaping your lips.
“if you’re so eager for us to work on this project,” he murmurs, that familiar teasing tone laced with something deeper, “then i suppose we should oblige you.”
choso watches with a smirk, setting his guitar aside and leaning back on his hands, clearly entertained. he shifts slightly as geto carries you over to him, his gaze lazily tracing the scene as though it’s all some amusing game.
before you know it, geto lays you down, your head coming to rest on choso’s thigh, his fingers instantly playing with a strand of your hair while he looks down at you with a knowing grin. geto settles between your legs, his eyes alight with mischief as he leans closer, his weight pressing against you just enough to pin you there.
your eyes widen, heart pounding as you squirm, trying to push him away and hit his shoulder. “suguru, get off!” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended, but he only chuckles, entirely unfazed.
geto’s smirk only widens, clearly enjoying your flustered attempt to escape. as you try to push him away, he effortlessly catches your wrists, pinning them above your head, his body still pressed against yours, effectively trapping you.
he leans in, his breath hot against you as he speaks, his voice a low, amused murmur. “easy, princess. we’re just working on the project, remember?” choso chuckles from above, his fingers still idly toying with your hair as he looks down at you, clearly enjoying this moment. “yeah, relax. we’re actually going to be productive for once,” he teases, a smirk on his lips.
geto’s grip tightens on your wrists as he shifts his weight, settling himself more comfortably into the space between your legs. he’s so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of cigarettes and something more distinctly him filling your senses. he leans in closer, his lips hovering just above your ear, his voice a low murmur. “or are you finally starting to enjoy this?”
your cheeks flush a deep red, the warmth spreading down your neck as you try to keep your composure. you look away, biting your lip as you feel your heart pounding in your chest, the sound of it almost deafening in your ears. taking a steadying breath, you clear your throat, desperately trying to suppress any hint of nervousness.
“this… this is not the project,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, but you don’t pull away. instead, you muster up the courage to meet geto’s gaze, your eyes locking onto his with a mix of defiance and something else—something you’re not quite ready to name.
geto’s smirk deepens at your whispered protest. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin, igniting a shiver down your spine. “sure it is,” he counters, his voice a low rumble, his eyes locked onto yours. “we’re getting acquainted with each other’s… skills, let’s say. it’s an essential part of the creative process.” choso snickers from above, his fingers still moving lazily through your hair. “yeah, consider it a team-building exercise,” he adds, his voice dripping with amusement.
your gaze locks onto geto’s, the challenge in your eyes unmistakable. you tilt your head slightly, defiant and intrigued all at once, a smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah?” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “and just what kind of skills are we talking about?”
geto’s smirk widens, clearly delighted by your question. he leans even closer, his lips ghosting over yours, almost but not quite touching. “well,” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing murmur that sends a shiver down your spine, “the kind of skills that… require hands-on experience.”
choso chuckles softly above you, his hand in your hair, fingers curling lightly around a strand. “you’re in good hands, don’t worry,” he teases, his tone both playful and reassuring. “we’re professionals, after all.” you roll your eyes at the both of them, your heart racing despite your best efforts to stay composed. “oh? you do?” you mutter, though the way your voice wavers slightly betrays your flustered state.
geto’s smirk turns almost devilish as he notices the slight waver in your voice, feeling your resistance beginning to crumble. he shifts his body, pressing himself even closer against you, his hands still holding your wrists captive above your head.
“oh, we do,” he affirms, a note of confidence edging into his voice. “we’ve got plenty of… relevant experience.” choso chuckles softly, his fingers continuing to toy idly with your hair. “and we’re more than happy to give you a… hands-on demonstration,” he adds, his tone teasing.
a rush of heat floods your cheeks, but you don’t dare look away, meeting geto’s gaze head-on, even with your heart pounding so fiercely that he can feel the pulse beneath his fingers. you swallow, your defiance giving way to something more vulnerable, more curious.
“like what?” you whisper, barely audible, but he catches every word. the smirk on his face shifts, deepening into something darker, a spark of satisfaction flaring in his eyes at your words, the smirk on his face turns almost predatory.
choso’s hand continues to toy idly with your hair, watching the scene unfold. a soft chuckle escapes his lips as he witnesses the undeniable tension between the two of you, clearly enjoying the show.
geto leans in even closer, his breath hot against your skin, his eyes locking onto yours as you speak. “like this.” he moves suddenly, pressing his lips against yours in a firm, possessive kiss, his grip on your wrists tightening just enough to make you gasp against his mouth.
the kiss is demanding, almost possessive, like he’s staking his claim on you at that very moment. his tongue brushes lightly over your bottom lip, a silent request for entry, but doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his tongue pushes into your mouth, claiming it.
as geto kisses you, his lips move against yours with a mixture of rough possessiveness and subtle tenderness, the contrast making your head spin. he doesn’t give you any room to pull away, his body still pinning you firmly in place, his hands still holding your wrists captive above your head. it’s dominant, overwhelming, and you find yourself melting into the kiss without even realizing it.
when he eventually breaks away for air, his eyes scan your face, taking note of your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. he smirks, noticing the way you’ve already lost some of your resistance.
you stare up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, struggling to steady your racing heart as you feel the lingering warmth of his lips on yours. your cheeks are flushed, and the remnants of the kiss—soft, glistening traces of shared heat—cling to your lips, a tangible reminder of the closeness that had just taken place.
geto’s smirk only widens as he takes in your expression, clearly pleased with the effect he’s had on you. he shifts, letting one of his hands trail down, grazing your cheek in a teasing, feather-light touch. “what’s the matter?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “cat got your tongue?”
you open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat, leaving you speechless. all you can do is glare at him, though the intensity is softened by the dazed look in your eyes.
geto’s smirk only deepens at your lack of response, clearly enjoying the power he has over you in that moment. he leans in closer, his hand tracing a path down your neck, his touch light and tantalizing. “tsk, tsk,” he murmurs between chuckles. “no cutting remarks? no snarky comeback?”
he leans down, his lips hovering just above your ear as he murmurs, “or are you just too distracted by my… skills?”
“n-no,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying the mess of emotions tumbling around inside you. your gaze flickers from geto’s amused smirk to choso’s lazy, knowing grin, and you quickly lick your lower lip, still tasting the faint remnants of geto’s kiss.
choso leans over you, a sly grin on his lips, clearly amused by how flustered you’ve become. “seems like we’ve finally managed to render her speechless,” he teases, his voice laced with amusement. you swallow, trying to regain even a fraction of your composure, but the feeling of geto’s lips lingering on yours keeps replaying in your mind, muddling every sharp retort you want to throw at him.
“i don’t—” you start, desperately trying to sound defiant, but the slight quiver in your voice gives you away. “i don’t...” the words come out weaker than you intended, and even you can feel the doubt behind them.
you hate emo boys, right?
choso chuckles, clearly amused at your feeble attempt to hold onto your usual defiant attitude. he continues to toy with your hair, his fingers gently twirling strands around them as he leans back against the stage.
geto, on the other hand, takes your attempt as a challenge, his smirk widening into a sly grin. he tightens his grip on your wrists, pinning you even more firmly against his body. “oh, really?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mockery. “you don’t what, princess?”
you frown, finally managing to push geto back just enough to sit up, shaking your wrists free from his hold. “you’re so damn annoying,” you mutter, trying to sound resolute, though your heart is still racing, and your cheeks are still warm.
but before you can even think of standing, choso’s hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you backward with a gentle yet firm pull. you lose your balance, falling back into his lap, your back pressing against his chest as his arms settle around you, keeping you securely in place.
“now, now,” he whispers, his voice low and smooth, right next to your ear, “we haven’t finished with the hands-on learning session.” his fingers trace slow, lazy circles on your arm, and you can feel the rumble of his chuckle against your back.
geto watches with a pleased smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leans back, clearly entertained by the shift in control. “see, princess? you keep acting all tough, but you’re right where we want you,” he teases, folding his arms and tilting his head as he watches you, enjoying every flustered reaction.
your face burns, but despite the urge to throw out a sharp comeback, your mind goes blank with the feeling of choso’s closeness, his steady presence both soothing and entirely overwhelming.
your breath catches as choso’s arm slides around your waist, pulling you even closer against his chest. his touch is gentle yet firm, grounding you in place, and there’s no escaping the warmth of his body pressed against yours. when his chin settles on your shoulder, you can feel the soft scrape of his stubble against your skin, a contrast to the smoothness of his voice as he whispers.
“you keep resisting,” he murmurs, his voice teasing and warm against your ear, “but maybe that’s because we haven’t given you a proper, hands-on demonstration yet.”
his other hand glides over yours, fingers lacing together as he leans in, his breath tickling the sensitive skin along your jawline before running his fingers over your clothed breast, feeling the lace material over your shirt. geto, watching your reaction with that same devilish smirk, steps in closer, his presence filling any space left, his gaze sharp and intense.
with you pinned between the two of them, there’s no escaping their touch or their relentless teasing. choso’s hand, so maddeningly close to bare skin, moves confidently over your shirt, while geto leans in even closer, his smirk growing wider as he takes in the flushed look on your face.
he reaches up, lazily trailing his fingers down your cheek, his touch sending tingles down your spine. “or maybe,” he murmurs, “you’re just not ready to admit how much you’re enjoying this.”
“shut up,“ you mumble, squirming uncomfortably under their combined gazes. your cheeks burn hotter than ever, and it’s hard to focus on anything other than the sensation of choso’s fingers dancing dangerously close and geto’s intoxicating proximity.
you try to pull away, to put some distance between yourself and the two men who seem intent on breaking down your walls, but choso only tighten his hold, making escape nearly impossible. “let me go,” you demand, your voice shaky, but whether from anger or arousal, you’re not sure.
“what fun would that be?” geto retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. his smirk doesn’t falter, and if anything, it grows more pronounced as he watches you struggle in vain against choso’s grip.
choso, meanwhile, seems content to let geto handle most of the verbal sparring, focusing instead on the task at hand. his fingers continue their tortuous path over the fabric of your shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts through the thin material. his touch is light, teasing, but the effect is undeniable.
the room may be empty, but it feels like the walls are closing in, the heat between the three of you nearly palpable. you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your composure as choso’s fingers brush tantalizingly close to your nipples. you bite your lip, a soft whimper escaping your throat as geto’s smirk deepens.
“we should do our project instead... instead of this,” you stammer, trying to muster some semblance of defiance, even though your body betrays you with each passing second. your heart pounds in your chest, your breaths coming quicker as the tension in the room rises.
geto scoffs, rolling his eyes at your suggestion. “who said anything about stopping?” he drawls, shifting slightly in his seat to give himself a better view of your predicament. his dark eyes sparkle with mischief, and his grin widens even further, revealing his white teeth.
choso chuckles softly, leaning in until his lips brush against your ear. “this is a part of our project, no?” he purrs, his hot breath tickling your sensitive skin. his fingers finally dip beneath your shirt, finding your hardened nipple through your bra and pinching it gently, eliciting a gasp from you.
geto watches, his smirking eyes never leaving yours as choso continues his torment, his own hands moving freely now that you’re effectively trapped between them. with nowhere else to turn, you grit your teeth and glare at geto, even as choso’s fingers continue their wicked exploration. “i swear,” you seethe, “if you don’t stop—”
“and what would you do?” geto interrupts, raising an eyebrow in challenge. he leans in closer, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin as he gets a whiff of your scent. “because i’m not seeing much resistance here.”
before you can come up with a retort, choso’s hand snakes its way around your waist, his thumb brushing against your belly button. he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “relax, princess,” he coos, his voice dropping to a low purr. “it’s just sex.”
you wince as choso’s thumb brushes against your exposed flesh, a shudder running through your body at his words. you clench your fists, biting your lip to keep from moaning aloud. “t-that’s not true!” you protest weakly, though your body tells a different story. your cheeks flush darker, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as the heat between the three of you intensifies. god, you hate emo boys so much!
geto barks out a laugh at your weak protests, shaking his head in amusement. “oh please, spare us the indignation act. we all know you’re loving every second of this.” choso hums in agreement, his fingers trailing lower, dipping teasingly below the waistband of your skirt. “your body is far more honest than your mouth,” he murmurs, nipping lightly at your earlobe.
geto shifts closer, one hand coming up to cup your jaw, forcing you to meet his heated gaze. “why fight it? we both know where this is heading. might as well enjoy the ride, hmm?” his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, a clear invitation. behind you, choso presses closer, the evidence of his arousal evident against your backside as his hands roam your curves possessively.
geto merely laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “denial isn’t a very attractive trait, love,” he teases, reaching out to run a finger along your arm. the sensation sends sparks shooting up your skin, and you can’t help but flinch.
choso grins devilishly, taking advantage of your reaction. he slips his hand lower, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping beneath the hem of your skirt. his touch is feather-light, teasing, yet filled with promise. his hand slides lower to tease the edge of your panties. his fingers ghost along the delicate fabric, making you jump in surprise. “so tense,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with false sympathy. “let us help you relax. this is a part of the project, we promise. gonna show you how to used your fingers for guitar.”
geto chuckles darkly, his eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “that’s right, princess. we’re just giving you a private lesson,” he purrs, his voice low and seductive. “all part of the creative process.” he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “but i think we can teach you something far more... practical.”
choso hums in agreement, his fingers still teasing along the edge of your panties. “indeed. music theory is important, but sometimes...” his hand suddenly cups your mound, applying firm pressure. “...hands-on experience is necessary for real growth.”
geto smirks, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “what do you say, love? ready to expand your horizons and learn a new instrument?” his other hand trails down your side, fingertips grazing the side of your breast.
whimpers and squirms, you inhale sharply as choso’s hand boldly cups your most intimate area, his touch sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through your body. your hips jerking involuntarily into his touch. a needy whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it, your resolve crumbling under their relentless assault. geto’s fingers in your hair and teasing caress along your breast make it hard to think straight.
“i... i don’t...” you stammer, but your body betrays your true desires. your thighs tremble, pressing together as if seeking friction, and your nipples strain against the confines of your bra, begging for attention. “that— that’s not,” you protest weakly, even as your body betrays you, arching slightly into their touches. your face burns with humiliation and shameful arousal. “expand your horizon, my ass.”
geto’s fingers in your hair send tingles down your spine, and when he grazes the side of your breast, you can’t suppress the shudder that runs through you. “fuck,” you breathe, hating how weak you sound.
despite your feeble objections, you make no real effort to push them away or escape their groping hands. the heat building between your thighs grows harder to ignore with each passing second. geto grins wickedly, clearly reveling in your flustered state and half-hearted resistance.
choso chuckles darkly, his fingers continuing their maddening exploration. he hooks a finger in the side of your panties, tugging them down just slightly. “see? nothing to worry about. just sit back and enjoy the music,” he murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your neck.
geto leans in, his lips barely brushing against your ear. “unless you’d prefer to take the lead? show us what those talented fingers of yours can really do?” he suggests, his tone laced with challenge and desire.
choso grins wickedly, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties to stroke your slick folds. “my my, someone’s already so wet,” he purrs, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “and here i thought you were resisting.” geto chuckles darkly, his hand tightening slightly in your hair. “resistance is futile, princess. your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is playing catch-up.”
he leans in, his tongue darting out to trace the shell of your ear before he nibbles on the lobe. “what was that about expanding your horizons again, princess?” he taunts, his other hand boldly cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh. “seems to me like you’re already getting a crash course in advanced techniques.”
he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing any further protests. his tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as choso’s fingers begin to circle your clit with maddeningly light touches.
you moan into the kiss, your lips parting willingly as geto plunders your mouth. your tongue tangles with his, the taste of him both foreign and intoxicating. you find yourself kissing him back with growing fervor, your reservations melting away under the onslaught of sensation.
choso’s fingers work magic on your sensitive bud, circling and teasing until your hips are bucking shamelessly against his hand, chasing more of that delicious friction. wetness coats his digits as he easily glides through your slick folds, stroking along your entrance.
“ahh... fuck...” you gasp as geto breaks the kiss, leaving you panting and dizzy with need. your head falls back against choso’s shoulder, exposing the column of your throat.
geto smirks against your lips, clearly relishing your wanton response. “that’s it, princess. let go,” he encourages huskily, his hand sliding down to join choso’s between your thighs. together, they work in tandem, geto’s fingers joining choso’s to tease and explore your most intimate places.
“feel that?” choso murmurs, his fingers curling inside you, stroking along your inner walls. “this is just like playing a string instrument. you have to be precise, know exactly where to touch...” he demonstrates by finding that special spot deep inside, rubbing firmly. at the same time, geto’s thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles.
“mmm, and you’ve got to vary your rhythm,” geto adds, his voice a sinful purr.
behind you, choso takes advantage of your exposed throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. his fingers never cease their ministrations, now two digits sinking knuckle-deep inside your tight heat. he curls them just so, rubbing against that same special spot within you. “how about that, baby?” he murmurs, his voice a sinful rasp against your ear. “this is called the g-spot. it’s the key to creating the most beautiful melodies.”
a loud, shameless moan tears from your throat as choso hits that perfect spot inside you, his fingers curling just right. your back arches, pressing your breasts more fully into geto’s palm as he kneads the soft mounds.
“oh god— thaaat’s— shit!” you keen, your hips rolling shamelessly against their skilled hands. the dual stimulation of choso’s fingers pumping in and out of your dripping cunt and geto’s thumb circling your clit has you seeing stars. your inner muscles flutter and clench around the invading digits, trying to draw them deeper.
geto chuckles darkly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest pressed against your side. “listen to those pretty sounds you’re making,” he purrs, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “like a symphony of pleasure.”
“indeed,” choso agrees, his own voice thick with lust. “she’s quite the instrument.” he increases the pace of his thrusts, fingers pistoning in and out of your soaked pussy with increasing urgency. “let’s see how high she can sing.”
geto redoubles his efforts as well, his thumb working overtime on your throbbing clit while he tweaks and teases your nipples. “come on, baby girl,” he coaxes, his breath hot against your ear. “give us that sweet release. let the music move you.”
the dual assault proves too much, your climax cresting like a tidal wave. a strangled cry rips from your throat as your body seizes up, back bowing as ecstasy crashes over you. choso and geto continue to work you through it, coaxing out every last tremor and spasm.
your entire world narrows to the intense sensations coursing through your body as you come undone. waves of pleasure radiate outward from your core, leaving you quivering and gasping for air. “ahh! oh fuuuck...” you wail, your voice raw and desperate as your orgasm rips through you. your inner walls clench rhythmically around choso’s plunging fingers, milking them for all they’re worth.
choso grins wickedly, his fingers picking up speed, plunging in and out of your sopping wet cunt. “that’s it, baby. let me hear that sweet music,” he growls, his thumb coming up to rub tight circles on your clit.
through the haze of bliss, you dimly register geto’s triumphant grin against your cheek, his praise and encouragement spurring you onward. even as the aftershocks slowly ebb, choso and geto keep you suspended on that razor’s edge, prolonging your pleasure until you’re a boneless, spent mess in their arms. when the final tremors subside, you collapse against choso, panting heavily.
choso holds you close, his strong arms cradling your trembling form as you struggle to catch your breath. “exquisite,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. “a true masterpiece.”
geto, in front of you, watching you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “not bad for a beginner lesson,” he remarks, his gaze roving over your flushed, disheveled state. he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “but we’re far from finished. there are still so many notes left to play, so many melodies yet to compose.” his hand trails down your spine, tracing the curve of your lower back before settling on your hip.
choso chuckles, his fingers still buried inside you, gently stirring your sensitive insides. “let’s see how well our little protégée handles some more...advanced techniques.” he leans in, biting and sucking at your neck, determined to leave marks of possession. his free hand slides down to grip your hip, holding you steady.
without warning, geto captures your lips in a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue, swallowing your desperate moans. behind you, choso scissors his fingers, stretching you wider, preparing you for something bigger. “brace yourself, princess,” geto growls against your mouth, his tongue delving deep to claim yours in a ruthless kiss. his other hand snakes around to cup your breast once again, squeezing the soft flesh roughly as he bites down on your bottom lip.
choso continues to work his fingers in and out of your stretched opening, scissoring and curling to hit all the right spots. “ready for the next piece?” he asks, his voice a low, seductive purr. “we’re going to add some strings to really make her sing.”
your mind reels from the overwhelming sensations, struggling to process the torrent of pleasure coursing through your veins. the feeling of being stretched and filled by choso’s fingers is almost unbearable, your body acutely aware of every subtle shift and movement.
geto pulls back from the kiss, his chest heaving with desire. “that’s right, let’s give her a full orchestra,” he agrees, his eyes blazing with hunger. “i’m thinking a nice, thick violin for her ass...”
when geto claims your mouth in a brutal kiss, you melt into it, surrendering to the dominant passion he exudes. his hand on your breast sends jolts of electricity straight to your core, making you ache for more.
you whimper against his lips, lost in the haze of lust. the thought of geto taking you from behind, filling you with his thick cock, has you squirming in anticipation. as if reading your mind, choso withdraws his fingers with a lewd pop, leaving you empty and wanting. he smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
they help you stand, with a shared look of carnal intent, both men begin shedding their clothing, revealing lean, muscular bodies honed from years of intense training. their cocks spring free, hard and proud, already leaking precum in anticipation.
geto lean closer, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly peels away his shirt, exposing his chiseled chest and abs. “time to put that ass of yours to good use, princess,” he purrs, his cock bobbing with each step.
choso follows suit, stripping off his garments with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving your body. “we’re going to fill you up so completely, you won’t know where one of us ends and the other begins,” he promises, his voice dripping with sensual promise. together, they guide you to the couch across the music room before peeling the clothes and skirt off your body.
on the couch, geto grips your hips firmly, guiding you onto his lap so you straddle him facing forward. your bare cunt hovers inches above his rigid cock, the head nudging your slick entrance. choso steps closer, his erection jutting out proudly from his groin, the tip glistening with pre-cum.
“let’s hear that beautiful song again,” choso purrs, reaching down to run his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. he lifts your leg, placing your foot on the armrest beside geto, further exposing your sex to him.
geto’s eyes darken with primal needs as he notches the head of his dick at your entrance. “time to ride this melody, my sweet,” he rasps, his hands gripping your thighs as he starts to push upward, sinking into your heat inch by delicious inch.
a shuddering gasp escapes your lips as geto’s thick cock slowly impales you, stretching your inner walls to accommodate his impressive size. the sensation of being filled so deeply is intoxicating, your body instinctively clenching around him.
“oh shiiit! —fuck!” you manage to stammer, your head falling back on his shoulder in ecstasy as geto bottoms out inside you. the pressure is exquisite, bordering on pain, but you crave more.
choso watches intently, his own cock twitching with anticipation. “look at her take it so beautifully,” he comments, his voice laced with awe and desire. “such a perfect fit.” geto begins to thrust and you start to rock your hips, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.
choso’s cockhead brushes against your lips insistently, smearing them with his musky essence. “open wide, princess,” he coaxes, his voice husky with need. “let’s synchronize our movements and create a truly symphonic experience.” without waiting for any response, he takes advantage of your open mouth, sliding his thick length past your lips. “that’s it, wrap those pretty lips around my cock,” he encourages, one hand tangling in your hair to guide your movements. “let’s see how well you multitask.”
behind you, geto’s thrusts pick up pace, his hips snapping against your ass as he hilts himself fully inside you with each powerful stroke. the dual stimulation of his thick shaft dragging along your inner walls and choso’s hardness prodding your mouth has you dizzy with lust.
“fuuuck, she feels incredible,” geto groans, one hand sliding up your torso to palm your breast roughly. he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, sending sparks of pleasure-pain zinging through your nerves.
overwhelmed by the dual assault on your senses, you moan wantonly around choso’s cock, the vibrations adding an extra layer of sensation. your tongue swirls around his thick shaft as you bob your head, taking him deeper into your throat with each pass.
geto’s relentless thrusts are hitting that special spot inside you dead-on, stoking the fire building in your core. the combination of his cock pounding your g-spot and choso’s member filling your mouth has you teetering on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm.
your nails dig into choso’s thighs as you grind back against him, meeting geto’s thrusts with equal fervor. the obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the room, mingling with your muffled moans and the creaking of the couch beneath you.
choso grunts in pleasure as your throat constricts around him, your enthusiasm evident in the way you take him so eagerly. “that’s it, just like that,” he praises breathlessly, his grip on your hair tightening as he starts to shallowly fuck your face. “such an obedient little instrument, playing our tune perfectly.”
behind you, geto’s thrusts become erratic, his control slipping as he chases his release. one hand moves from your breast to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
geto leans in close, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he pants hotly against your skin. “listen to those slutty sounds you’re making,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly hard thrust that has your vision whiting out momentarily. “you are doing a good, sunshine, pretty sure we will get an A+ for this project.”
the dual stimulation proves too much to bear. with a keening cry muffled by choso’s cock, “gonna cum. . . hng! cum—”, your body trembles and quakes as the coil of tension in your lower belly winds tighter and tighter, poised to snap at any moment. geto’s skilled fingers on your clit combined with his relentless thrusts prove too much to bear.
with a strangled cry, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. your inner muscles clamp down on geto’s pistoning shaft, rippling along his length as you come undone. the force of your climax has you seeing stars for the second time, your entire being consumed by white-hot ecstasy.
choso groans deeply, the vibrations rumbling through his chest as he feels your throat flutter around him. “fuck yes, milk my cock just like that,” he demands, his hips stuttering as he nears his own peak.
as your body convulses in the throes of your intense orgasm, geto hilts himself deep inside you as your walls spasm around him, grinding against your cervix as he rides out your intense orgasm. “shiiit—” he snarls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release.
choso buries himself to the hilt in your throat, his cock pulsing as he reaches his breaking point. with a guttural moan, he starts to unload, thick ropes of cum shooting directly down your gullet. “swallow every drop, princess,” he commands breathlessly, his hips rocking shallowly as he empties himself in your mouth.
geto continues to grind against you, drawing out your climax as long as possible. once choso pulls out, they switch position with now you sit on choso’s lap while geto kneeling on the couch behind you, ass slight in the air and back arched towards choso. “now, now, your ass need an instrument too, no?” he remarks, the tip of his cock kissing the puckered lips of your ass.
choso smirks at geto’s suggestion, his eyes gleaming with mischief and lust. “mm, i like the way you think,” he purrs, reaching around to spread your ass cheeks wider, exposing your tight rosebud to geto’s hungry gaze. “let’s give our little muse here a full symphony, shall we?”
he leans in, trailing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder as his hands roam your curves possessively. “just relax, baby,” choso murmurs against your skin, nipping lightly. “we’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
geto positions himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips possessively. the blunt head of his cock pressing insistently against your virgin hole, coated in your mixed fluids. he spits crudely into his palm, using it to slick up his shaft before rubbing the spit-slicked tip around your rim teasingly. “relax, sunshine,“ he murmurs, his thumb massaging small circles on the soft skin of your hips. “let me in nice and easy.”
with a gentle but persistent pressure, geto starts to sink into your tight heat, his girth stretching you deliciously. choso bucks up slightly, his still-harden cock sliding between your cunt as if seeking friction.
“fuck, you’re so tight,” geto groans low in his throat as he slowly sinks deeper into your tight heat, savoring the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls enveloping him inch by delicious inch. “holy shit, you’re like a vice around my cock,” he grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he hilts himself fully inside you with a final, powerful thrust.
choso watches the erotic sight with hooded eyes, his own arousal growing as he feels geto’s cock slide against his through the thin barrier of your pussy wall. he rocks up against you, creating delicious friction. “goddamn, i can feel every twitch of your greedy little holes," he purrs, his voice rough with desire.
a sharp gasp escapes your lips as you feel geto’s thick length slowly sink into your virgin hole, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. the initial burn quickly gives way to intense, toe-curling pleasure as your body adjusts to the new intrusion.
“oh god, oh fuck,” you moan brokenly, your head falling back against choso’s shoulder as he peppers your neck with hot kisses and bites. your hands scrabble for purchase on his muscular arms, nails digging into the firm flesh.
the dual sensation of choso’s hard cock rubbing against your sensitive walls and geto’s thick shaft buried deep in your ass is almost too much to handle. every movement sends shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through your oversensitized body.
geto sets a steady rhythm, his hips snapping against yours as he fucks into your tight heat with increasing intensity. the lewd squelch of lube and your natural lubrication fills the room, mixing with your wanton moans and the creak of the couch beneath you.
choso takes advantage of your distracted state, his hands moving to roughly palm your breasts, tweaking and rolling your nipples between his fingers. he captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he grinds up against you harder.
“that’s it, take it just like that,” geto growls, one hand took a fistful of your hair as he pounds into you from behind while the other pushing the hard wall, looking for a balance. the added stimulation has your walls clamping down on both their cocks like a silken fist.
lost in a haze of overwhelming pleasure, your body moves on pure instinct, rocking back to meet geto’s powerful thrusts while grinding down onto choso’s hardness. incoherent moans and pleas spill from your lips, swallowed by choso’s demanding kisses, arms wrapped around his neck.
the intense dual stimulation has your mind short-circuiting, all thoughts dissolving into a sea of blissful sensation. your inner walls ripple and squeeze around the two hard shafts stretching you so deliciously, as if trying to pull them even deeper.
“just— fucking gooood!” you manage to gasp out between kisses, too far gone to care how desperate you sound. “want... want to feel you everywhere...“ your hands clutch at choso’s shoulders, nails raking down his sweat-slicked skin.
choso breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he gazes down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. “look at you, so beautiful when you’re fucked silly, completely lost in pleasure,” he rasps, his voice dripping with seduction. “keep taking what you need, baby girl.” he rolls his hips, grinding his cock against your clit with deliberate intent, sending jolts of electricity through your overstimulated nerves.
geto increases his pace, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room as he slams into your ass with abandon. the couch creaks ominously under the force of his thrusts, but neither of them seems to care about the potential damage.
the combination of geto’s brutal pace and choso’s calculated stimulation pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.
“fuck, your ass was made for my cock,” geto grunts, his grip on your hip tightening. “so damn tight and perfect.” he leans in close, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “i’m going to fill you up so good, sunshine.”
geto’s words send a shiver down your spine, your entire body tensing as the coil of pleasure within you winds tighter and tighter. choso senses your impending climax, his hands roaming your curves with renewed urgency as he kneads and squeezes, coaxing you higher.
“come on, princess,” choso coaxes, his voice a low, sultry purr. “give us what we want. let go and soak us with your sweet cream.” he nibbles at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing the sting with his tongue. geto’s thrusts become erratic, his control slipping as he chases his own release. “shit, shit, shiiit, i’m close,” he warns, his voice strained with effort.
overwhelmed by the relentless assault on your senses, you teeter precariously on the brink of orgasm, every nerve ending alight with electrifying pleasure. geto’s guttural warnings only heighten your anticipation, knowing that his impending climax will trigger your own.
“please,” you whimper, your voice barely audible over the ragged sounds of your own panting. “want to come... need to...” choso’s skilled touch and the tantalizing drag of his cock against your sensitive clit prove to be the final push, sending you hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. your inner walls clamp down like your life depends around both cocks, milking them for all they’re worth as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes through you.
geto lets out a hoarse roar as your tight ass squeezes him mercilessly, your spasming walls trigger his own release. his own climax barreling down on him like a freight train. with a few more powerful thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his cock pulsating as he unleashes a torrent of hot seed deep inside you, he floods your ass with jet after jet of hot cum. “oh, shit— fuck, naughty girl,” he bellows, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself deep inside you.
choso follows suit moments later, his own orgasm ripping through him with the force of a tidal wave. “’m coming!” he snarls, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grinds against you with desperate urgency. his cock twitches and spurts, painting your insides with his scorching seed.
the three of you collapse together in a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving chests, the aftermath of your shared climax leaving you boneless and sated.
as the aftershocks of your orgasms fade, geto carefully pulls out of your ass, a small amount of cum leaking out and trailing down your thigh. he smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “well, that was a hell of a private lesson,” he says, giving your plump rear a gentle pat before rising to his feet.
choso, still nestled against you, lazily strokes your side, his touch warm and comforting. “we’ve definitely got a special grade now,” he muses, a note of possessiveness creeping into his tone. geto chuckles, moving to sit beside you both on the couch. “definitely,” he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a tender gesture that belies his earlier roughness.
after everything, reality hits you. you’ve always sworn up and down that you hate emo boys, yet here you are, caught in an intimate moment with the two of them. now, you’re on the other side of the music room, hurriedly putting your clothes back on, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. you refuse to meet their eyes, sulking as you keep your back to them, still stealing a glare over your shoulder every now and then.
geto and choso just exchange an amused look, clearly unbothered by your attempt to distance yourself. they’re still lazily getting dressed, each of them watching you with a smirk, fully aware of the effect they’ve had on you.
geto smirks deepen as he continues watches you from across the room, clearly amused by the icy glares you’re shooting his way. he leans casually sits on the couch armrest— arms crossed, the smug look on his face telling you he’s entirely unbothered by your attempt to ignore them. beside him, choso chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he pulls his shirt back on, clearly sharing in the satisfaction of riling you up.
“oh, come on, princess,” geto drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of it.”
choso grins, tilting his head as he watches you adjust your shirt, still refusing to look at them. “yeah, don’t be such a sore loser,” he teases, his tone light but with that familiar hint of mischief. “you’re the one who kept us in check, remember? it’s not our fault you had fun.”
you shoot them both a final glare, cheeks still hot as you mutter, “i hate emo boys,” as if trying to convince yourself more than them. but they can see through it, both of them chuckling at your attempt to regain control.
geto and choso exchange another amused glance, knowing all too well that your muttered remark was more for your own benefit than theirs. they’re amused by your stubbornness, your desperate attempts to cling to control, even after they’ve seen the flushed look in your eyes, the way your body responds to their touch.
choso tugs his shirt fully on, his eyes roving over you as he takes in your disheveled state. “sure, princess,” he teases, his voice dripping with irony. “we totally believe you.”
geto pushes himself off the armrest, sauntering closer to you with a slow, confident swagger. he comes to a stop in front of you, his smirk widening as he looks down at you in mock sympathy. “oh, you poor thing. you must be so flustered and confused.”
he reaches out, lightly tracing a finger along the edge of your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft but mocking. “it’s normal to have conflicting emotions.”
you slap his hand away, a scowl firmly set on your face. “fuck off,” you snap, voice dripping with annoyance. geto just chuckles, clearly unphased, his smirk only widening as he steps back with that same infuriating calm.
“such hostility,” he teases, mockingly clutching his chest as if wounded. “and here i thought we were bonding.” you roll your eyes and turn your back to him, muttering under your breath about how annoying he is. meanwhile, choso, still lounging nearby, watches with a grin, clearly amused by the banter.
geto’s smirk only grows wider at your scowl and sharp retort. he steps back, arms raised in a gesture of mock surrender, though his eyes are still filled with that same mocking glee. “oh, princess, you really are so spirited.”
he glances over to choso, who’s still watching with undisguised amusement. “you really do know how to pick ‘em,” he mutters, chuckling. choso grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “yep,” he agrees. “she’s definitely a handful. but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”
you gasp in mock offense, turning to face geto fully. your backhand thumps against his chest, a playful but firm push, and your eyes narrow with feigned indignation. “pick me? what am i, a stray?” you ask, your voice teasing, lips curled into a pout as you look up at him with exaggerated shock.
geto simply rolls his eyes at your dramatic response, unfazed. he bends down, grabbing his bag from the floor with a lazy motion, effortlessly slinging it over one shoulder. his eyes gleam with amusement as he drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, his body warmth pressing against yours. “let’s go get you some ice cream,” he says, his voice smooth, dripping with playful sarcasm. his smirk only deepens as he adds, “maybe it’ll cool those anger issues of yours.”
you feel the weight of his arm around you, the proximity of his body stirring something familiar in you, but you don't let it show. choso, who’s been silently watching this little exchange with his usual mischievous grin, lets out a low chuckle. “yeah, ice cream’s on him for calling you a stray,” he teases, his voice light and playful as he steps up beside you, giving you a wink that makes your stomach flip.
as you start walking, you feel the tension of the earlier moments dissipate, replaced by the lighthearted banter between the three of you. despite your irritation, there’s a sense of warmth that settles in, and you can’t help but feel an odd mix of affection and frustration toward the two of them.
maybe, these emo boys aren’t as terrible as you thought.
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ciaoteamo · 1 year ago
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Milk and Water (Pt. I)
pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader
summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?
pt.II
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art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)
warning: 18+ content
“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.
A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.
“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.
“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.
You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.
You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.
“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.
“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.
Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.
“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.
You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.
“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.
“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.
“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.
His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.
Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.
“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button
“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.
“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.
“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.
“hm” You nod and press the button.
“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.
You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.
The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.
You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.
About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.
Staring at you.
His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.
“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.
“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.
“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”
He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.
His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.
“…what. the. fuck.”
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sierrale8ne · 1 month ago
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ego / wnba!paige bueckers x fem!reader
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summary you and paige have known each other since you were in diapers. but instead of becoming best friends like your parents had wished, you’ve disliked each your whole lives— for no real reason other than paige’s huge ego and your brattiness. until one annual family vacation reveals the true nature behind your quarrels. warnings 5.3k wc, sexual content, degradation, oral, fingering, choking, they’re both assholes. from lena i’m sorry this literally took forever, i have no excuses, but its here now. 😊
🔖 @thaatdigitaldiary @rosemariiaa @xxloveralways14 @pboogerswbb @tndaqlwifwy @wbbgetsmewetter @juspeaks @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @ykylalex @cherryswisherz @bueckersbitch @paigesbabygirl @ohmybueckers
It’s warm in Minnesota this time of year, blazing heat and a certain humidity in the air that makes the air stick to your skin. The wood of your chair pressing into the skin, but you don’t really mind.
Being at the Bueckers Cabin was a tradition. Every year since your father and Bob Bueckers met in college years ago. Your album of photos contained pictures from your first birthday, celebrated here, all the way through now. You could count on one week with all your family, friends, and other loved ones all piled up at this cabin.
You could also always count on some sort of issue between you and Paige.
It wasn’t ever something specific, but all it took was a secluded cabin, nagging aunts and uncles, and an almost uncomfortable summer heat to bring the arguments to surface.
Paige was arrogant. Always thinking she was better than somebody. It was cocky. The certain gleam in her eye when your mother complemented her manners, or when she overheard someone tell you ‘you should be more like Paige’. It triggered you to heights unknown. And you swore up and down that she knew— hence why she kept acting that way.
But she? She thought you were spoiled rotten. That, as an only child, your parents enabled you to be a brat. Paige hated it. The way you spoke to her like you were hot shit and just got away with it. Though, if you really looked deeper into it, you only got away with it because she herself let you.
It was a hatred that started young. Probably a stolen toy or a mean comment when you were in elementary school. But either way, it never ever went away.
Her UConn teammates tread outside to join you. Azzi, Caroline, and Ice walk out one by one, bottles of dripping water in their hands to quench any lingering thirst.
“Hey, Babe!” Azzi greets you. Her body drapes over the back of your seat and wraps you in a loose hug. You smile, obviously. It’s Azzi, her smile is addictive and scent is so warming that you can’t not smile back. 
You greet the other just the same and they each take seats alongside you getting comfortable on the other deck chairs. Music can be faintly heard, some 90’s music that makes all your aunts and uncles reminisce on their college days.
“Is Paige around?” The question from Ice nearly makes you roll your eyes. Her name triggers something within you. And even though you’ve gone since April without seeing her, your blood begins to boil as if she’d been annoying you all day.
You shrug passively and your eyes dart off to the side, the smell of barbecue suddenly much more interesting 
“You guys are still on that?” Caroline asks.
“On what?”
“You know what!” Azzi laughs. “I think you guys should just bury the hatchet. Give her a chance, I could see you two getting along pretty well actually.”
Before you get the chance to explain that there is nothing that could possibly be done to get you to like the girl, that she could get on her knees and apologize for everything and you still wouldn’t move on— the sliding glass door opened up. You turn your head to see your father calling you in with his hand.
“Come over here and help your mama!” 
You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes and instead you stand up.
You slide your sandals on your feet before you walk inside, the clacking of them against the hardwood clashes with the voices of your family. Upon entering the kitchen, you’re greeted with laughs which normally would make you smile if it wasn’t for the fact that it was your mom laughing with Paige.
The blonde had her hands occupied with grabbing the plastic utensils from the cupboard. She’s told some joke, one you know isn’t really all that funny, but your mom loves her and as a result laughs hard. 
It’s infuriating, how it seems like she’s gotten everyone from your parents to your brothers wrapped around her damn finger. She charmed them so easily, doing favors with that smile and occasional compliment. Enough to get on their good side but not enough to be deemed a kiss ass.
You fucking hated it. Hated her.
“Look who finally got off their ass.” Your mom teases, walking over and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Come mix this salad up for me, honey.”
“Yes ma’am.” You murmur, more upset that the instruction forces you to stand in front of Paige rather than literally anywhere else.
Taking the salad tongs in your hands, you do as asked. And Paige does her own thing as well, keeping quiet which you find somewhat surprising. It doesn’t take long, thanks to you mom already doing most of the work. You set the bowl of salad off to the side, and the second you do, you meet her eyes.
The blue briefly catches you off guard, like you weren’t expecting them. She doesn’t break eye contact with you for a single second, and you don’t either. It’s one of the few things Paige likes about you, (other than the way your ass looks in your shorts) how you never back down from her.
Ever.
It’s why arguments last so long and why your eye contact does the same.
Her smirk only spreads further, her lip just barely tucked between her teeth. A part of you swears she gets off on seeing you like this, visibly irritated by her presence alone.
She nods her head toward you as a greeting, one that you reciprocate out of kindness.
“You two are like kids.” Ms. Fuller interjects. She stands off to the side with your mother, a wine cooler in her hand. 
“We didn’t do anything.” Paige says, her face scrunching up on instinct.
“But you can’t even speak to each other?” It’s your mom’s turn to speak now, which makes you get more defensive than you probably should.
You kiss your teeth, planting your palms on the island. “We can talk to each other?”
“Then do it.”
You cross your arms over your chest, “hi.” You mumble, looking at the woman in her disgustingly blue eyes that just so happened to be raking over you. A part of you thinks you’re thinking things, but no, she really is eying you up and down. 
“Hey.” Paige can’t help but smile, copying your previous movements of pressing your hands to the counter. “See, we did it.” She says.
“We talk a lot anyways.”
“You argue a lot, that’s not the same.” Your dad’s voice comes from nowhere, as last time you saw him he was heading to the grill. 
Paige laughs. Audible and amused and annoying as ever. Like she agrees, which really doesn’t matter, but the thought of her thinking of you like that adds unnecessary flame to the growing fire inside you.
“Aren’t you supposed to be out grilling?” You ask. 
“Food’s all done, everyone’s coming inside.” Your dad explains. Then he looks to Paige, clapping both palms on her shoulders. “I let your girls know you were in here, they were asking about you.”
Paige nods, an appreciative smile spreading on her face. “I ‘preciate that. Yo, princess, where the plates at?”
The pet name makes you freeze in your tracks. Paige has probably been calling you that since middle school, it’s nowhere near new. But there’s something different about it now, it sends a chill down your spine.
“One: don’t call me that. Two: check the cabinet.” You shrug, turning away from the island as people piled into the house. The sudden noise that came with all your relatives piling in, luckily shut out what Paige was saying to you.
“Yeah, I already did that, which is exactly why I’m asking you.” She calls out. There’s a certain bitterness in her voice that pisses you off.
You spin back around, slightly taken aback by how close she had come to you in a matter of seconds. Paige towers over you, all six feet of her working to intimidate you. “This is your dad’s cabin but you can’t figure out where the damn plates are?”
“I’m just askin’ a question, princess.”
“A stupid question. And I said quit fuckin’ calling me that—”
“See that’s that shit—”
“Enough!” Your mom is quick to cut you both off before the yelling even gets a chance to escalate. She steps between the both of you, trying her hardest to deescalate the situation. “You, run to the store and grab some paper plates. Paige go with her.”
If she wasn’t your mom you would’ve rolled your eyes until they got stuck in the back of your head. 
“She doesn’t need to come with me.”
“Ion need to go with her.” 
It’s like suddenly both of your parents' eyes lock on you and Paige, enough to get the both of you to shut up and let out matching groans as you head for the exit.
The cool air that comes from the sliding glass doors is almost considered a blessing in the July heat. You take the initiative to walk in front of the blonde in search of the paper plates, any opportunity to get some space from her since your argument.
You thought it would end the second you got in the car, which she insisted on driving. But no, you both had to argue about who’s playing music, who’s paying, who’s to blame for not getting plates in the first place (which in your heart and soul, you know is Paige).
So yeah, heated would be the right word to describe the both of you. But even as you were able to cool down, Paige couldn’t.
Not when you looked like that.
She hated you, that wasn’t something that she thought would change. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have eyes.
You were attractive, like beyond words. Add on the jeans shorts you wore and the expanse of your back that was left exposed by your tank top— she was riled up all over again.
It was like you did it on purpose. You chose to walk in front of her, chose to sway your hips like that, chose to piss her off on any given day even when she wasn’t in Minnesota. And there’s nothing more that Paige would like to do, than put you in your place. 
Talking is fun, but the grin that would come to her face after seeing you crumble under her would be even more fun. More exciting. Something that she’d always be able to bring up. How she won.
It didn’t take long for you to find the plates, the second you grabbed them you were quick to turn on your heels, nudging her shoulder a bit too harshly for her liking. A part of Paige wanted to grab you back by your belt loop, but she refrained.
She scoffs, licking her lips as she follows behind you. “Keep fuckin’ playin’ with me, bro. I don’t wanna be here any more than you do.”
“And if I do?” You respond with an over confidence that Paige has become quite familiar with in the over 20 years you’ve been around.
I’ll fuck the attitude out of you, is what Paige so dearly wanted to respond with. But instead she chooses to keep it as cordial as she can. “You wanna find out?”
And it’s something about how her voice lowers that makes your eyes soften and your guard lower, even in the midst of your eye contact. 
It’s small, so small that you barely even notice it yourself. But Paige isn’t dumb, she knows the effect that she has on women. Knows how that tone of voice makes girls want to squeeze their legs together. 
It’s just that this time, it’s you. The girl who she’s known her entire life, since you were the short nerdy girl at Hopkins with the braces. You’re grown up now, and Paige loves every bit of it, except she didn’t picture you like that. 
When you get back to the house, you’re quick to dissect yourself from Paige. She’d already been too close today, and her little stunt in the grocery store had you desperately racking your lungs for some air.
You sat on the deck alongside Caroline, who had seemingly grown tired of her teammates. 
You both are quiet, looking off into the sky and how the sun decorates it in an orange hue. Carol nurses and diet coke, and you switch out your empty plate of ribs for your twisted tea.
The sky looks pretty, but you can’t help but think Paige looks prettier. You hate how you can’t keep your eyes off of her. She’s glowing, and her skin is extra tan. Since the natty game in April, she looks stronger. Everywhere. Her arms, sure, but it’s her quads and calves too. And then when she leans back, stretching her arms over her head, you think her abs are even more defined too.
You can’t help but stare, it’s like she’s tempting you.
“You wanna know something?” Caroline starts, darting her head down to look at you.
“Hmm?”
“I think you have feelings for Paige.”
You nearly fold in half with how hard you start laughing. The blonde was hot, sure, but feelings for her was just plain… no. Not for you. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not! You like her, but you don’t like that because you’ve been beefing for years.” She starts, sounding like she’s putting together all the pieces. “So you fight and try to push her away.”
“If I liked someone, why would I push them away?”
“I dunno. I haven’t figured you out yet.” Carol shrugs. “But I do know that you like to argue. And Paige likes arguing with you even though she won’t admit it.”
“Whatever.” You sigh, if you kept your words to a minimum you’d avoid proving her right. You decide to get up from your seat, collecting yours and her trash to take inside. 
“Look, there goes your girl.” She jokes. Paige has decided to follow suit, dragging herself through the screen door and into the nearly empty cabin. 
“Goodbye, Caroline.” You sing on your way inside. 
Paige leans on the same kitchen island you both were arguing around hours ago. Her hands are attempting to open a beer bottle and struggling.
“You need help with that?” You ask.
She scoffs, looking over her shoulder at you before shaking her head. “Nah. I’m good, princess.” She dismissed you. 
When the bottle cap finally came off, she tossed it in the nearby trash, as you did the same with yours. You trail around the island, ignoring the feeling of her eyes on you as Paige moves closer. They’re like lasers, burning holes into your skin as you stop in your place near her.
“Can we talk?”
You immediately start getting concerned, probably more than you’d like to admit. Her tone shifted awfully fast, and you’re even quicker to put your guard up.
“What do you want, Paige?”
“Imma ask you something, and it’s just a yes or no question, so relax.” Paige dodges your question. She pushed herself off the counter, turning so she stands right in front of you. The spout of her beer bottle sits against her lips— her full, pink, lips. “Are you attracted to me?”
You dart your head away from her, deciding that looking Paige in the eye while she asks you that question is a recipe for disaster. 
“Bro, move.” You scoff, pressing your hand to her abdomen.
But she’s fast, grabbing your wrist before you get the chance to fully push her off of you. The sudden shift between you two was shocking. The balcony door was only some feet away, and if anyone outside looked hard enough they’d see you. But even then, the house was silent— other than your heavy breathing. 
It’s just you and Paige.
The ridges of her abs are evident even through her shirt, hard and warm from summer heat. For a second you think about how they’d feel under you. Each muscle on your clit, flexing, glistening from how wet you’d be. 
She takes another step, effectively pushing you further into the countertop. “Yes or no?”
Your head darts to the side, looking away in an attempt to hide the growing heat in your core. She was winning. Paige was winning and you fucking hated it almost as much as you claimed to hate her.
The blonde grips your chin, steadying her other, beer clad hand at your waist. The feeling is so foreign, but almost… normal? Her hand is cool, which is a nice contrast to the burning feeling of your own skin.
“Y’want me to ask again? Or you got it?” Paige makes a show of licking her bottom lip.
“I hate you, so no.”
“Do you?” She asks. The half empty beer bottle sits on the counter. Paige grips your hips to turn you around, and you can’t even fight it, she’s stronger than you, and even more determined to break you down.
“Paige…” You groan. The island digs into your hips as she presses into you from behind.
“‘Cause I thought I did too. But you wear these damn clothes and Ion think I do anymore.” Paige explains, her breath fanning your ear. 
She teases you with her hand at the hem of your shorts, playing with the frayed fabric near the curve of your ass. Paige does it like it’s a sixth sense, like she’s had you like this forever rather than it at all.
It makes your heart race, breathing quicken, panties dampen. Never in your life did you think that Paige fucking Bueckers would be the one to make you feel like that but here you are. Fucking soaked off of her. But you’d never let her know about how much she was affecting you. It was always a competition with her. You’d rather win than give her even the slightest upper hand.
“You’re a bitch.” You murmur. On any other day it would sound confident, like you believed it, but not today. Just with Paige standing behind you, you feel quiet and little.
Her hand travels to your hair, a part of her wants to tug it back as hard as she can but she chooses against it. Paige tucks a strand behind your ear and leans in closer. “Really? This bitch got you dripping down your legs right now.”
“I’m not doing this with you.” You grit through your teeth. With what little strength you have you turn around, hands pressed to Paige’s chest. “I’m goin’ back outside.”
“But we ain’t don’t talking, ma. Tell me why you hate me so bad.” 
Her voice lowers the same way it did in the store earlier. Gravely and a little tainted by alcohol.
You think about calling her a bitch again. The way you saw her face get all riled up was something you’d like to see again. Or tell her how much her big ego made you want to punch her. There’s a lot of reasons you thought you hated the girl, but all of them seemed minor in comparison to how fucking bad you wanted her.
Her mouth and those pretty pink lips. Her fingers curling inside you. Her moaning in your ear. It was like you needed Paige to survive.
“You think the fuckin’ world revolves around you.”
“Me? Says the princess who thinks everything should go her way.” 
You shove past her, finally seeing your exit opportunity. “Whatever, Paige—”
“Y’know, Ion like this attitude you got.” She starts, following you as you walk. You don’t know where, but you’re damn sure it wasn’t outside. “Because as soon as we get outta here, you’re back on that same shit.”
You stop in your tracks. “So fucking what! What are you gonna do about it.”
Paige nods her head, curt and amused. Her plump bottom lip just barely juts out towards you before she leans in. Her scent travels through your nose— Dior Sauvage, typical.
“Come wimme.” She brushes past you without a look back as she heads toward the basement. Paige can only hope you follow her, only hope that you want it as bad.
And you do. So you follow.
If it was anything you learned throughout your entire ordeal with Paige, it’s that she’s a damn good kisser.
Maybe she liked being yelled at. Or maybe she just thought you were fucking hot. Either way, the basement door shut, she was on you like white on rice. You both nearly fell down the stairs, hands grabbing whatever you could reach.
It was messy, teeth and spit and tongue, but it was otherworldly.
Paige tasted like honey, outrageously sweet despite the fact that she’d never been sweet to you. Her tongue roams your mouth, hands on your ass as she backs you into the wall.
“You can’t handle me.” You breathe, tangling your hands in her hair. “I should show you some’.”
Paige laughs, shaking her head into the kiss. "You've shown me enough. It's my turn, right? I been too nice.”
Her hand darts to your shorts, unbuttoning them and forcing them down your legs. Paige is fucking rough, like there’s nothing but rage rushing through her blood. And you want nothing more than for her to take it out on you. You’re the reason for it all anyways.
“Shit probably weak as hell anyways.” 
Paige kisses her teeth. “Take all this shit off.”
You make a show of bringing your hands to the hem of the cropped shirt as you bring it over your head. It joined your shorts on the carpeted floor, leaving you in front of Paige in nothing but your purple panties. It’s almost coincidental that the woman she fought with whenever she was around now stood here in her favorite color. 
She tucks her lip between her teeth, bringing her hand to your waist. 
“No bra like a damn slut, huh?” Her tongue clicks on the roof of her mouth, almost like she’s shaming you. But you don’t mind, you almost like it too much.
She decides to reach for your tits, squeezing them in her palms in a rough manner that makes you gasp and arch into her. Paige plays with your nipples, fingers rolling over them, feeling them get hard as she drips into her boxers.
“You wanna fuck me or keep talking shit?”
“I can’t do both?” Paige asks as she kisses you. It’s anything but soft. Her hands grip your boobs harder, tongue licking at your own. It’s like she’s trying to become one with you, take over your whole body. “Gotta make you my fuckin’ whore.”
She pulls away again, only for a second, before she kisses the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck. Her tongue was hot and wet as she sucked against a spot under your jaw that made your fucking knees weak.
It was like Paige knew you already. She was good at making you sweat from anger, but she was damn good at making you sweat like this. Making your thighs press together to relieve that pressure.
Her lips trail lower and lower, down to the center of your chest which she makes a show of licking. 
Paige kissed patterns down your thighs, starting sweet until her teeth dig into them. She does it over and fucking over, marking you in the most painful way she can think off all while staring up at you through her lashes.
It was a sight you wanted burned in your brain forever. Paige, on her knees, lips on your body like she was worshiping you. Maybe there was a reason why her ego was so big, because she was already going to make you come and your panties hadn’t even come off yet.
“Paige… just, fuck.” You press your head back against the wall, cupping her head with your hand. “Fuckin’ eat me.”
Her blues dart down to your cunt, the cotton material suddenly darker than the rest of your panties. “You’re wet as hell, ma. Been wanting my tongue on you for how long?”
Your pussy throbs in your panties as a result. You could never tell her the real answer, that somewhere along the line of you knowing Paige you’d trail your hand down in your pants and think about her. Or that you would wish all those girls that she’d be with were secretly you.
So instead you say, “why the hell would I— fuck— want you?” The stutter comes from her thumb on your clothed clit, applying pressure that makes your eyes water. Paige pulled your panties down slowly, they pool on the floor alongside the rest of your clothes, leaving you completely fucking naked.
A string of your slick sticks follows down with your underwear. “Whatchu dripping for then, princess?” Her hand grips your bruised thigh, guiding it over her shoulder. “Don’t tell me it’s Azzi that got this pussy like this?”
You tug her hair, watching her groan at the pressure. She thinks about leaving you like this, wet and horny and nude, stopping you from even having a chance at getting off. But your scent alone makes her change her mind. She’s a bitch to you but not that fucking bitchy, not enough to taint her reputation by not letting you come.
So she licks her lips, leaning into and wrapping her lips around your clit. That eye contact you always seem to have with her doesn’t stop even for a second. 
“God, P. J-just like that.” You moan, hips bucking into her mouth. 
Paige’s tongue licks through your folds. She’s so fucking into it, like your taste alone could make her full for centuries. It’s damn near the best head you’ve had in your life, her tongue knows exactly where to touch and flick, her lips know the perfect pressure to suck. She was fucking good.
“You got no clue how fuckin’ good you taste.” She murmurs, tongue stretched flat over your cunt. The sounds of her sucking and your slick bounce off the walls. “This pretty fuckin’ pussy.”
Your legs shake, inching closer and closer to your precious orgasm. Your other hand travels to her hair, fucking your hips into her fast. It pisses the blonde off, her obvious need for control over you more important.
“Paige gimme mmph more. I need it, baby.” You grunt. 
Her hands tug your own off of her. She pins them to your sides, dragging her tongue inside your cunt then out over your clit. Your moans get louder, you’re lucky that all your relatives are outside or you would’ve gotten caught forever ago. 
Paige’s nose brushes against your clit, aiding to the sensitivity. And the second you think about announcing your climax, she pulls back from you. A shit-eating grin covering her soaked face.
“Are you fucking serious?”
Paige wipes your near orgasm from her mouth. “What’d I do, mama?”
“You know what you did, you asshole!” Your hand presses against her chest, an attempt to shove her back but Paige is obviously stronger than you had imagined.
Her demeanor shifts in a matter of seconds. She trails her hands to the back of her collar, tucking her shirt off and behind her. Her black sports bra accentuates the tan of her skin, revealing just enough of her abs to make you want to get on your knees and fucking lick them. 
Paige grips your chin. Your jaw falls slack as a result. You don’t know what to really expect, but when you watch her saliva fall from the tip of your tongue, you almost pass out. It lands in your mouth a hot glob that tastes just like you did. She wipes the dribble from your lips and you swallow without a second thought.
“See, always talkin’ to me crazy. That’s why I do that shit.” She presses. Deciding to spin you around, she does, pushing up against the wall so close that you can smell the paint. Paige hand curls around your neck, applying enough pressure to knock your head back onto her shoulder. “I fuckin’ hate your ass, y’know that?”
You bite your lip, enjoying the feeling of her free hand brushing over your cunt. “Really? ‘Cause I always catch you staring at it, babe.”
Your hands press to the wall as Paige forces her knee between your thighs, spreading you apart until a pain shoots up your thighs. “Tell me how bad you hate me.”
“Why, does it turn you on?” You question, pushing back against her for any type of friction.
She breathes into your ear, following that with a bite. The blonde tugs on your earlobe, grinning to herself at the groan you give her as a result. “So bad, ma. You turn me on.”
Her fingers follow immediately after. You’d think that she’d be nice enough to give you a minute but she didn’t, forcing two fingers inside you like she couldn’t care less about anything but stretching you out.
“I, fuckkkkk! I hate—hate how sexy you are. Hate how wet I get around you.” You moan. Paige curls her fingers, seemingly pleased with your words.
Her grip on your neck tightens as she speeds up, pushing and curling and twisting her fingers so deep inside you can’t be quiet. Not when it feels that good. “Yeah?”
“Yes. Yes!” You cry. The noise of your cunt fills your ears, the trickle of your wetness travels down your leg as you struggle to keep up. Paige slips in a third finger and your knees buckle. “Daddy…it’s too much.” You whimper.
“Yeah, it’s like that?” Her fingers are breaking you apart, moans falling from your mouth so loud you’re surprised you haven’t gotten caught yet. “Watchu want, princess?”
“M’ gonna come. Please, please I’m so close.” You moan, arching your back further at the pleasure of it all. 
Your hands try to steady yourself on the wall, trembling at the pressure of her fingers against your g-spot. Your pussy clenches around her fingers, dripping down them as you cry out her name over and fucking over.
“There’s those manners, ma. I ain’t even know you’d had ‘em with how you cuss at me.” She grumbles in your ear. “Fucking hot.” 
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming. Oh, Paige!” Your orgasm hits like you’ve never fucking imagined, dripping all the way down your legs to the carpet. Your breath is heavy, tits pressed against the cold wall as she works you through it.
Paige trails her fingers out, wiping them against the back of her shorts. “Did we really just—”
“Yeah.” You pant.
There’s a beat of silence in the room, the occasional sounds of fireworks going off down by the lake as they do every year. But instead you’re here, sweat coating your body and your cum down her fingers. Paige’s fingers.
Then her phone starts ringing, and you’re reminded that there’s a life outside of the basement in which you hate Paige and she hates you right back.
You turn to face her, how swollen her lips are, how missed her hair is. “We’ll talk later?”
You nod, thinking that’s the end of it until she cups your face and kisses you. There’s a certain passion behind this one, less tongue and more sweetness. It's the sweetest Paige has been to you, well ever.
“Yeah, later.”
And then she’s grabbing her shirt and darting up the stairs. 
But not before pointing out that you should cover the hickeys on your thighs.
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pucksandpower · 3 months ago
Text
Nothing to Prove
Charles Leclerc x Vettel!Reader
Summary: it’s a tale as old as time — every female sports fan has been told to “prove” her fandom at least once in her life — but the man quizzing you quickly learns the error of his ways
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The Miami sun beats down relentlessly as you make your way through the bustling paddock, your destination the familiar red and white of the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with pre-race excitement, mechanics and team personnel darting about like worker bees in a particularly colorful hive.
You’re so focused on navigating the crowd that you almost don’t notice the young man who steps directly into your path, phone held aloft. His grin is a touch too smug for comfort.
“Excuse me, miss,” he says, voice dripping with false politeness. “Mind if I ask you a few questions for my TikTok?”
You hesitate, torn between ingrained courtesy and a gnawing sense of unease. “I’m actually in a bit of a hurry-”
“It’ll only take a minute,” he insists, already hitting record. “So, tell me, what’s your favorite thing about Formula 1?”
The question seems innocent enough, but there’s something in his tone that sets your teeth on edge. Still, you decide to play along for now. “Well, I love the strategy, the technology, the way the whole sport pushes the boundaries of what’s possible-”
He cuts you off with a laugh. “Come on, be honest. It’s the hot drivers, right? That’s why most girls watch.”
You blink, momentarily stunned by his blatant misogyny. “Excuse me?”
“No judgment!” He says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I get it, they’re all rich and fit. But let’s see how much you really know. Who won the 1976 World Championship?”
You open your mouth to answer, but he barrels on.
“What’s the difference between understeer and oversteer? How many points do you get for fastest lap? Come on, if you’re a real fan, this should be easy!”
Your initial discomfort has morphed into full-blown anger. “Look, I don’t have to prove anything to you. My knowledge of the sport isn’t-”
“Ah, so you can’t answer,” he says, triumphant. “Just as I thought. Another pretty face here for the-”
“Is there a problem here?”
The smooth voice comes from just behind you, followed by the warmth of a familiar body pressing against your back. Strong arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively lean into the embrace.
The TikToker’s eyes go wide as saucers as he takes in the newcomer. “You’re ... you’re ...”
“Charles Leclerc,” your boyfriend finishes for him, voice deceptively mild. “And you are ...”
The young man sputters, clearly thrown off his game. “I’m ... I mean... I was just asking your girl here some questions about F1.”
Charles’ arms tighten fractionally around you. “Is that so? Because from where I was standing, it sounded more like an interrogation.”
You turn your head slightly, meeting Charles’ gaze. His green eyes are blazing with a protective fury that makes your heart skip a beat.
“It’s fine,” you murmur. “He was just leaving.”
Charles raises an eyebrow at the TikToker, who’s looking increasingly desperate to be anywhere else. “You heard the lady.”
But the young man, perhaps realizing his video is about to become internet gold, rallies. “Wait! I mean, no offense, but how do we know she’s not just with you for the fame? Can she even name your teammate?”
You feel Charles tense behind you, but before he can speak, you’ve had enough. You step out of his embrace, squaring up to the TikToker.
“Carlos Sainz Jr.,” you say, voice hard. “Currently P4 in the championship. And since you’re so keen on quizzing people, James Hunt won in ‘76, understeer is when the front of the car doesn’t turn enough while oversteer is when the rear steps out too much, and you get one point for fastest lap if you finish in the top ten. Any other burning questions?”
The TikToker gapes at you, clearly unprepared for this turn of events. Charles, for his part, looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.
“I ... but ...” the young man stammers.
You press on, building up a head of steam. “Oh, and fun fact — my brother has four World Championships. But I’m sure you knew that, being such an expert and all.”
The TikToker’s face drains of color as realization dawns. “Your brother? You’re Sebastian Vettel’s sister?”
Charles can’t contain his amusement any longer. He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I tried to warn you. You’ve awakened the beast.”
You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re not helping.”
He holds up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Far be it from me to interfere with your righteous fury. Please, continue.”
The TikToker looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. “I ... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-”
“That women can be genuine fans?” You interrupt. “That we might actually understand and love the sport for its own sake? Or just that you shouldn’t make assumptions about people based on their gender?”
He winces. “All of the above?”
Charles steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch is gentle, but there’s steel in his voice when he speaks. “I think it’s time for you to go. And delete that video while you’re at it.”
The young man nods frantically, fumbling with his phone. In his haste to retreat, he trips over his own feet, sprawling ungracefully on the ground. Charles moves to help him up, ever the gentleman, but you put a restraining hand on his arm.
“Let him sort himself out,” you mutter. “A little humiliation might do him some good.”
Charles chuckles, pulling you close. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
As the TikToker scrambles away, face burning with embarrassment, you allow yourself to relax into Charles’ embrace. The adrenaline of the confrontation leaves you feeling a bit shaky.
“You okay?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You nod, letting out a long breath. “Yeah. Just ... frustrated. Why do people still think like that?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew. It’s not fair, the assumptions people make.”
“It’s not just about me,” you say, turning to face him fully. “It’s about all the female fans out there who get treated like this. Who get quizzed and belittled and have their passion questioned at every turn.”
Charles nods, his expression serious. “You’re right. It’s a bigger problem than just one idiot with a TikTok account.”
“Sometimes I wonder if it will ever change,” you admit, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.
Charles cups your face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle. “It will,” he says with conviction. “Because of people like you who stand up and call it out. Who refuse to let ignorance go unchallenged.”
You lean into his touch, allowing yourself a small smile. “When did you get so wise?”
He grins, some of his usual playfulness returning. “I have my moments. Don’t tell anyone though, it’ll ruin my reputation.”
You laugh, the tension finally starting to dissipate. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Charles leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he murmurs. “The way you handled that ... it was impressive.”
“Yeah?” You ask, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.
“Absolutely,” he says firmly. “You were brilliant. Fierce. Passionate.” His voice drops lower, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Incredibly sexy.”
You swat his arm playfully. “Behave yourself, Leclerc. We’re in public.”
He affects an innocent expression that doesn’t fool you for a second. “I’m always on my best behavior.”
You snort. “That’s what worries me.”
Charles laughs, the sound bright and carefree. It never fails to make your heart soar. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “Come on, let’s get to the motorhome. I think we both could use a moment of peace before the craziness really begins.”
As you walk hand in hand through the paddock, you can’t help but reflect on the incident. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth, but there’s also a spark of hope. Because for every misogynistic TikToker, there are countless fans — of all backgrounds — who love the sport for what it is. Who appreciate the skill, the strategy, the sheer spectacle of it all.
And maybe, just maybe, standing up to ignorance one interaction at a time is how change really happens.
Charles squeezes your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”
You smile, leaning into him slightly as you walk. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. To be here, doing what I love. To have people in my life who support me and believe in me.”
He brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “The luck goes both ways, mon cœur. You make me better, on and off the track.”
As you approach the Ferrari motorhome, its bright red a beacon in the sea of team colors, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. There will always be challenges, always be those who try to tear others down. But with love, determination, and a refusal to back down from what’s right, anything is possible.
Even changing the world of Formula 1, one small interaction at a time.
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clara-a7 · 6 months ago
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On Set | Nicholas Alexander Chavez
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Pairing: Nicholas Alexander Chavez x Reader
Requested? No~ (I accept requests!)
Word Count: 969
A/N: Sorry if here are any mistakes, english isn't my first language, not my best writing...~
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Today was a special day for you, visiting your boyfriend on set for the first time. You’d heard all about his role, the long hours, and the excitement of filming, but now you were seeing it up close. The energy in the room was electric as the crew prepped for the scene, and you couldn’t wait to watch him step into character, bringing his hard work to life.
After you sign in at the security desk, a production assistant leads you to the soundstage where they’re filming. The place is buzzing with activity, people rushing around with equipment, makeup artists adding final touches, and the director deep in conversation with the actors. And then, you see Nicholas, standing by his trailer, going over his lines.
He smiles the moment he spots you, striding over with his usual easy confidence. “Hey, you made it,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his hand resting on your waist just a moment longer than necessary.
“You sure you’re warm enough?” you tease, your voice playful despite the quickening beat of your heart at the sight of him wearing only a boxer.
“Not at all,” he laughs softly, though there’s a mischievous spark in his eyes. “But you might be the one shivering once you see this next scene.”
Your eyebrow lifts, curiosity piqued. “Oh? What kind of scene?”
Before he can answer, a voice calls out, “Nicholas, we’re ready for you!” The director is motioning him to the set. Nicholas gives you one last grin before heading toward the scene. You follow, curiosity piqued.
The decor is designed to resemble a luxurious bathroom from the 80s, with a little steam in the air, giving the illusion of warmth. Nicholas steps into the shower, already in character. You can’t help but stare as he begins to act the scene.
The water splashes over his skin, droplets clinging to his toned muscles, his abs glistening as he runs his hands through his wet hair. He reaches for a towel, wrapping it loosely around his waist. The camera pans up, but your eyes can’t help but follow the way the towel clings to his hips, barely covering him. His every movement is slow, sensual, deliberate. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you watch, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the fake steam filling the set.
The scene ends, and the director calls for a break. Nicholas walks over to you, still dripping wet, his towel slung dangerously low. He’s smirking now, knowing full well the effect he’s having on you.
“Enjoy the view?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.
You swallow, trying to play it cool. “No…. I didn't.”
He chuckles, stepping closer until you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. “I saw the way you were looking at me,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “You’re not so good at hiding it.”
Before you can respond, his hand slips to your waist, pulling you into a corner just out of view from the team. His lips brush your ear. “Do you know how hard it is to focus on work when I know you’re watching?”
Your breath hitches, the air between you electric. He’s still so close, the scent of soap and skin filling your senses. You can feel the tension growing, a mix of excitement and desire swirling inside you.
“You’re not supposed to be thinking about me,” you whisper, but the way your voice wavers betrays your thoughts.
“I can’t help it,” he says, pressing a soft kiss just below your jaw. ���Especially when I know how much you like watching me.”
His hand slides down your back, pulling you against him, the wet towel barely separating your bodies. You bite your lip, trying to suppress the rush of heat that pulses through you. You should stop, remind him you’re on set, but the way his body feels against yours makes your thoughts blur.
“Nicholas,” you start, but he cuts you off with a slow, teasing kiss. His lips are soft but insistent, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you closer. His towel slips a little lower, exposing more of his skin, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.
Your body reacts instinctively, pressing against him. He groans quietly, the sound vibrating in his chest as your hand trails down his slick, wet torso. Your fingers graze the edge of the towel, tugging at it just slightly as his lips claim yours in a deeper kiss, more demanding this time. His hands slide lower, gripping your hips as his mouth moves from your lips to your neck, his breath hot against your skin.
“Nicholas, we’re on set,” you murmur breathlessly, but you don’t pull away. Instead, your hands find their way to his waist, fingers trailing along the damp towel.
“I know,” he replies, his lips brushing against your ear. “That’s what makes it so exciting, isn’t it?”
Before you can respond, his hand slips lower, gripping your thigh and pulling you closer. His lips capture yours again, more urgent now, and you can feel the heat of his skin, the firm press of his body against yours. Your pulse quickens, your body aching for more, but the sound of footsteps approaching makes you freeze.
Just as things begin to heat up, you hear a voice call out, “Nicholas, we’re back in ten!”
You both pull away quickly, hearts pounding, the thrill of almost getting caught making you both laugh breathlessly. Nicholas smirks, running a hand through his wet hair.
“We’ll finish this later,” he promises, winking as he walks back to set, leaving you flushed and breathless.
You watch him go, a grin tugging at your lips.
Visiting him on set definitely has its perks.
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!Pictures is not mine. Found on Tumblr. Full credit to the owner! 
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i2sunric · 10 months ago
Text
𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 (hyung line)
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𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: fivesome. unprotected sex, hair pulling, blowjob, rough sex. masturbation, handjob, double penetration, pet names (angel, baby, doll) lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD → PART 2
a/n: based on this ask from anon! hope you like it <3
It wasn’t that Heeseung was oblivious about the stolen glances his members gave you whenever you came over to the dorm, for goodness sake, he was a man as well and knew what was the effect to see such a pretty girl.
He would’ve asked them to stop or at least try not to show it— if he hadn’t noticed the way you just craved their attention. He sees how you unbutton your shirt or bend down shamelessly. And it should’ve angered him, it should’ve pissed him off.
But maybe, his contorted desires matched with yours, which was why he decided to test something out by taking you right in the living room. He lied, telling you the members had a schedule about a en o’clock episode he didn’t have to do and lured you inside the lion den, touching the spots he knew would make your head spin until you gave in and started sucking his cock.
The nasty sounds filled the dorm, you were so busy trying to pleasure him you hadn’t even heard the front door opening and now the three men watching the pornographic scene happening in front of their eyes.
“Looks like we have public, angel.” You blinked, puzzled as you took him out of your mouth to turn around.
Widening your eyes at first, they soon fell on the evident hard-ons your boyfriend’s best friends wore under their pants.
Heeseung smirked and caressed your cheek, making you turn around “You want more cock, mh?” He grasped your chin and made you turn around as well.
“Here you go baby, they’re all here for you.” And it didn’t take much for you to be laid down on the sofa with Jake’s cock shoved inside your mouth as you stroked Jay’s one with your free hand.
Sunghoon was rutting his hips inside of you, his huge cock filling you up to the brim. Your moans echoed in the room while you maintained eye contact with Heeseung.
He was slowly pumping his shaft at the sight of you being pleasured by his band mates, so pretty and so sinful.
“Pussy s-so good.” Sunghoon groaned, gripping your hips so tight they would’ve probably be bruised by the next day.
“Taking my cock so well.” Jake pleased as he grasped your head, fucking your mouth, hitting the back of your throat as you gagged.
“Careful there.” Jay nagged at Jake for being so rough, the feeling of your hand around his dick bringing him close to release.
“Fuck I’m so close.” Jake threw his head back “Can I cum in your mouth baby, mh?” He asked but his gaze turned to Heeseung who shook his head.
Jake groaned but complied with his wishes, pulling out as he pumped his cock fast to cum all over your chest– But as you saw precum leaking, you whined and pulled him back inside your mouth.
The warm feeling was enough to make him cum, hot seed dripping down your throat, tasting him.
Heeseung watched you shocked, the mere view of his best friend cumming down your throat was enough to make him cum undone as well.
In the meantime, Sunghoon’s thrusts turned maniacal, his cock hitting your cervix with all of them. You squeezed your eyes shut and stopped moving your hand to help Jay, your own release approaching fast.
Jay groaned in complaint and moved to raise your back from the sofa. He positioned himself behind you and when Sunghoon understood what he wanted to do, he stopped thrusting.
You opened your eyes, a little oblivious to what was happening around you until you felt stretched so wide it was so painful. You let out a whimper of pain and both men turned to look at Heeseung.
“Ask her.” He said sternly “It’s not my body you’re using.”
“Baby, can we fuck you at the same time?” Jay asked, rubbing his thumb on your waist “It’s gonna feel good, I promise.”
“Yes, doll.” Sunghoon nodded as well, “You just need to relax.” He slowly circled your clit to relax you.
You took deep breaths, in and out and slowly got used to the feeling of both of them. They thrusted at the same time, slow and steady.
You turned your face to look at Heeseung and Jake that had joined his side. Your boyfriend gave you a warm smile and you reached your hand to him.
Heeseung took the clue and moved closer, pulling you into a heated make out session. Your moans died in his mouth as the two other men picked up their speed.
“Ngh— S’good.” You rolled your eyes back, gasping on Heeseung’s lips.
“Look how you’re taking their cocks so well.” Heeseung praised “My angel is doing a perfect job, mh?”
The pair of Jay and Sunghoon let out deep growls, signalling their were close “Don’t you cum inside of her, got it?” He said, his tone dangerous. “I’m letting you fuck her but only I get to breed her.”
His words were enough to send you over the edge, making you clench around the big dicks. Sunghoon pulled out and jerked on your stomach, his seed coating your skin.
Jay kept thrusting to ride you out of your orgasm and as he felt you relaxing, he pulled out to cum between your ass cheeks.
You pulled Heeseung back into a kiss, sloppy and needy as his best friends whispered sweet praising to you.
Jake walked behind Heeseung and you looked up at him as if to ask for permission. Your boyfriend nodded, a little reluctantly, but he let you have a make out session with him.
Needless to say, the aftercare was awesome, all four men treating you like a princess, serving you and pampering you with cuddles.
“When’s next time?” You asked that night as you were snuggled on Heeseung’s chest.
“Am I not enough for you?” Heeseung scowled, a little offended. You pecked his lips and chuckled “Of course you are, baby.”
You leaned into his ear and whispered “But I saw how you enjoy when I get used by your friends.” And maybe you were right. Maybe he had a kink.
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celestiamour · 3 months ago
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MEOW MEOW MEOW SE-MI SMUT X F!READER PLL,ZZPLZLZZ IM ON MY KNEES PLZ
ft. se-mi x f! reader — squid game
╰₊✧ an examination of piercings turns into something more┊0.8k words
contains: smut!! dom se-mi & sub reader┊tongue piercing, receiving oral, one mention of needles, innocent reader, se-mi is older & called “unnie”
➤ author's note: glad to see the girls getting just as much love as the boys in my inbox
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“did they hurt?” you asked, gently holding your friend’s face in your hands and admiring her like a newly discovered painting from the renaissance era. it was mesmerizing how the light shone off the metal, and you couldn’t stop staring, even going as far as to run your finger over the little star of her nose piercing in awe without thinking. it was so damn cute how fascinated you seemed to be by these decisions she made nearly a decade ago in her teenage years.
normally, se-mi wouldn’t have let anyone put their hands on her and would probably punch them if they went anywhere near her face. yet here she sat in her bed allowing herself to be adored by you. she wondered if this was how cats felt when being coddled by their owners, the spoiled white persian kinds you see in movies with diamond collars and more toys than what they know to do with. “no, it was just like a pinch.”
“i couldn’t imagine that— having a needle pierce my skin, i mean,” you shivered. “my ears were pierced when i was a baby, but even then, they’re a little crooked because i wouldn’t stop crying.”
she giggled at the thought of it. “it’s not the needle that’s painful, it’s the healing process. the days after i got my tongue pierced were the worst, i couldn’t eat for days.”
“you have a tongue piercing?”
humming to confirm, she cheekily stuck out her tongue to show off the metal pierced through the muscle, even flexing it to flaunt the jewelry. it was extremely amusing to see how flustered you were becoming even though you tried not to show it.
“why did you get it pierced when it’s not even visible all the time?”
“cause it feels good for…”
“feels good for what?” you asked innocently, tilting your head in a way that made her want to eat you alive.
“well… it’s kinda hard to explain, but i could show you if you like…”
you didn’t have the foggiest idea what she was talking about at first until you found yourself flipped on your back with your shorts dragged to your ankles along with your panties and her head in between your shaking thighs, sliding her hot tongue between your folds and savoring the taste collecting on her palette. this wasn’t something best friends did, but you made no attempt to push her away and allowed her to do as she pleased.
“s-se-mi unnie…” you whined out, fingers finding and tangling with her dark locks yet also doing the contradictory action of wiggling your hips away. you’ve never felt this way before, knots twisting in your stomach and fire spreading under your skin as you try to wiggle away from the foreign sensation that felt too good to be real.
“ah, ah, ah, don’t run from me, you taste so fucking sweet.” her grip on your legs tightened as she pulled you closer to her, swirling the cold pierced metal across your throbbing clit and enjoying your moans like music. “i wish we had done this sooner, don’t you? god, i don’t think i could ever get enough now that i’m here.”
you couldn’t even verbalize a proper answer with nothing but pathetic whimpers falling from your mouth, eyes flickering between her and the ceiling as they rolled back with tears threatening to drip down the waterline. did things like this always feel so good, or was se-mi simply an expert who knew your body better than you did yourself with age and experience? silly little questions you would ponder if you weren’t getting your brains fucked out by just her tongue, making her wonder in return how you would handle taking her strap when you were already going crazy like this. (you have no idea how long she’s been fantasizing about having you like this, sitting in this very bed thinking about your soft skin and lips against hers with her hand crammed in her pants.)
“fucckk, ‘m gonna- ngh!!” god, you didn’t know the word to match your oncoming orgasm, you just knew a peak was about to be reached thanks to her talented tongue.
“you’re gonna cum baby,” she chuckled. “don’t be scared, just let yourself go for me.”
suddenly her plush lips wrapped around your delicate pearl and sucked hard, and like activating a button, you cried out in pleasure and unraveled all over her face, back arched and hands tugging on her hair. she gladly licked up the messy remnants with a smirk, proud to have made you climax in less than five minutes.
“you did soooo good for me baby,” she drawled and pressed a few sloppy kisses on your twitching cunt as a reward, “think you can give me one more?”
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tonycries · 1 year ago
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A Picture Lasts Long (But Not As Long As That D*ck)
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Synopsis. Smile for the camera - as best you can when you’re being absolutely wrecked in all sorts of ways underneath them anyway!
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exhibitionism (Toji’s), mutual másturbation, phone séx, créampie, oral (female + male receiving), vibrators, bóudoir, manhandling, marking, Gojo is a menace, fíngering, dp, face-sitting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 3.8k
A/N. Was gonna add Sukuna but I feel like he’d hate modern technology.
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The internet sensation
“Whaddaya say, you horny fuckers? Think she deserves to cum?”
Now, Toji Fushiguro is always one for extra cash. Who wasn’t, really? So when you approached him with a devious idea, well, how could he ever say no to his pretty girl?
He just didn’t think he’d be here - your bare legs splayed out on his lap, dripping cunt spread so shamefully, buzzing vibrator deafening over your pretty moans - all in front of that blinking camera. And the hundreds of thousands behind it.
“T-Toji, wan’ cum. Wanna cum so bad, please.” you mewl. Big, fat tears dripping down your cheeks at the way he’s been teasing you for so long now. You can barely make out the rush of comments flashing across the screen.
The camera captures everything so sinfully well. The way your cunt is completely soaked, clenching desperately around nothing as Toji slides the vibrator along your swollen folds. Circling your needy hole, just grazing your swollen clit. Teasing them just as much as you. 
Pathetic fuckers, he thinks, but entertains their desperate comments anyway.
“Hmm, they’re saying I should let you cum, pretty.” he whispers in your ear, low and hoarse with need. “Saying I should be ‘nice.’” 
He brings the vibrator - now glistening with your slick - to his lips. Licking a long, languid stripe up it, collecting your sweet juices on his tongue. Turning it ever-so-slightly towards the camera to show off what the fuckers behind it will never get, he hums dangerously, “What do you think, my girl?”
You gasp out a sob, uselessly trying to buck your hips toward where you needed him the most. “Please, Toji. Wanna cum, I’ll do anything.” 
“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, spreading your legs open even further with a feral groan. 
In one, fluid motion, he buries the vibrator deep in your dripping cunt, relishing the surprised yelp that leaves your swollen lips. “Then show ‘em how much you like it, pretty. How much you love me not being ‘nice.’”
And that’s all that is said before he’s fucking you into you at an urgent, sinful pace. Pulling out all the way till the buzzing tip just circles your swollen folds, ramming into you with no care or concern for the burning stretch. Toji knew you liked it - besides, it was half the size of him anyway.
“C’mon, smile for the camera, pretty.” he grunts into your ear, “Tell ‘em how I make m’girl feel.” 
You can barely choke out, “Ah! Oh- shit. S’good. Hngh-”
Blood rushes straight to his cock at the way you were taking it like such a good girl. Head lolling against his muscled shoulder as Toji pushes the vibrator in and out in and out in and-
“Yeah? Who makes you feel this good?”
Angling it just right to expertly hit against that one spot he knew would have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 
“Ngh- Ah! You!” you whine, thighs quivering at both the burn of being so spread open and the electricity coursing through your veins at Toji’s relentless pace. Mind spinning, vision blurring, you barely register the hand snaking its way down down down.
A harsh thumb pressing down hard on your throbbing clit. “Wha- Toji hah-” you squeal as he starts drawing slow, tight little circles on it. Lazy and languid where he was fucking into you mercilessly like you were his lil’ toy right below. 
“Tha’s right, my girl. Say it for all those lonely little fuckers behind the camera to hear.” He doesn’t stop thrusting the vibrator into you, instead speeding up his movements impossibly at the lewd squelches filling the heady air.
“You. No one- else- hngh-” you moan softly hips bucking up in tandem with his hand. “M’gonna- Ah ngh- m’gonna-”
“Say my name, pretty.”
“T-Toji! Hah-” you squeal deliriously, cumming desperately around the buzzing vibrator. Walls clenching as he continues to fuck you through it. A smug little smirk on his face as he watches the way your eyes flutter closed, body bowing jerkily into his. 
Ah, you look so pretty like this. Those losers behind the screen were probably at the gates of heaven already. 
In the haze of your orgasm, you barely hear the low murmur from above you. “Now, you horny fuckers. Think her pretty hole can take my cock at the same time?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - The secret album
Geto Suguru doesn’t let anyone touch his phone - especially his photo gallery. Always turning off the screen from prying eyes, pocketing it safely before flashing an innocent grin. 
But why? That one time Shoko stole his phone while he was in the bathroom revealed only a few blurry, aesthetic shots of you, the sky, and you. So what did that man have to hide?
Well, what she didn’t know is had she scrolled down just a bit more - before Geto ripped the phone from her hands - she’d have come across the treasure trove named with a simple “Love.”
Not one, not even tens - but hundreds upon hundreds of videos of you all falling apart underneath him.
Most of them favorited, all of them sorted so meticulously according to his tastes in a way that showed he spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. But it wasn’t enough to capture your perfection. It never was. 
Which is probably why Geto had you sitting prettily on his face, juices spreading so lewdly across his mouth as he tonguefucked you into insanity. 
The video was shaky, focusing in and out of the way your bruised lips dropped into a soft oh! as he bullies past your swollen folds. 
It zooms in on the dazed expression on your face, eyes miles away. “Oh, Suguru. M-more” your broken moans crackle through the speaker. Just barely capturing the soft ah! ah! ah! escaping your lips each time Geto’s tongue dips into your sloppy hole. 
Oh, this video was definitely going in his favorites.
“Take the phone, love. Show the camera how good I make you feel.” he murmurs into your dripping cunt, words hoarse with desire. 
And Geto might love you on film - but this was your favorite part. When the camera flips and you see him in all his disheveled, sinful glory. “Ah- y’look so pretty under me, Sugu.”
Dark hair splayed out on the pillow, stray strands sticking to his forehead as he looks at you with hazy, pussy-drunk eyes. His ringed fingers holding your thighs apart in a bruising grip. Lips glossy and swollen as they continue their abuse on your ravaged pussy. 
Flattening his tongue along your swollen folds, sliding teasingly between them. Your slick glistens in the dim lighting, dripping down down down the lower half of his face. 
And Geto, well, looks like he’s absolutely in heaven. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks at his girl’s pretty cunt, tipping his head back further just to let your sweet juices slide down his throat. 
You’re so focused on how pretty he looks that you almost miss the long fingers deftly snaking their way along your thigh. Spreading your swollen folds apart with his thumbs, he whispers raspily, “Shit. No video in the world can capture how pretty you look like this, love.”
The pure look of admiration has the camera shaking, and you sputtering out, “Wha- Suguru what nonsense-”
“Shhh, my girl. Lemme take care of it.”
And with that he’s sinking knuckle-deep into your pussy, while his ruby lips wrapping around your swollen clit. Zooming in desperately on the way he rolls his tongue harshly along it, sucking so sensually. Like a man starved. 
“Ah- hngh, Sugu. Feel s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers inside you. God, you don’t know how you don’t drop the phone at this point, white-hot jolts of pleasure running up your spine from where Geto was making out so sloppily with your cunt. 
Tears sting your eyes as he curls his fingers just right to brush against that one spot that has you bucking into his mouth for more more more- Hitting it over and over-
Fingers tangling in his silky hair, the video grainy with movement as you use it as leverage to grind deeper into Geto’s face. Chasing your high with an almost-embarrassing neediness. Close. So close. 
A muffled, “Cum f’me, love. Cum for the camera.”
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Geto’s hungry gaze searing into your brain - and the video - as you chase peak after peak on his pretty face, grinding down desperately. Your vision is hazy, head spinning. 
But Geto’s is decidedly not as he quickly skims through the obscene video, lips still attached with yours. 
Ah, damn these cameras. No matter how high quality, he could never quite capture the delicate trail of drool decorating the corner of your lips. Or the exact pattern of the neat crescents that your nails leave on his chest. 
They could ever quite capture the perfection that was you.
But it’s fine. 
That’s what multiple takes are for, right?
♡ NANAMI KENTO - The photographer
Nanami Kento wasn’t into photography - which didn’t quite explain the tripod and hefty camera set sitting in the corner of his office. 
No, he was more into absolutely fucking ruining you in front of the camera just to capture a semblance of how heavenly you look for him. Which, well, explains the countless framed photographs decorating the walls of his often-locked office. Nothing extremely explicit - but enough to make a stray onlooker blush and look away.
And well, how could you say no? Especially when he had you bent over his desk, leaking tip dragging teasingly along your swollen folds, camera aimed right at the way you lean into his cock. 
Cold tabletop digging into your skin, his fingers warm on your pulsing clit. Drawing tight, methodical little circles. So like him.  
“C’mon, darling. Arch your back more f’me like a good girl.” he murmurs lowly, breath hot against your ear.
As if on autopilot, you press further into his swollen cock. Sliding it deftly between your folds, just aching for any bit of friction. “K-Kento, please-.” you babble, delirious from him and his piercing gaze and him. 
“Mhm, spread your legs more f’me. Yeah, jus’ like that, darling.” he mutters, voice steady with the audacity of someone that wasn’t grinding his rock-hard cock into your dripping cunt. Hips moving in shallow, mindless little motions despite himself. Yet, holding back so agonizingly. 
So, you take matters into your own hands. 
Slowly, purposefully, you lift yourself higher, arching so desperately into Nanami’s throbbing cock. The soft little bump! bump! bump! of him pulsing against your walls a tempo that you were losing your sanity to. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be almost embarrassed by how needy you were acting. “Kento! Wan’ you to fuck me alre-”
You don’t get to finish the sentence, because Nanami only takes a second to snap back his hips before pressing into your dripping cunt. The stretch of your walls absolutely addictive.
Click!
Ah, there was the perfect shot. 
All the blood rushes to Nanami’s cock at what showed on the screen - the exact moment that he split you apart on his cock. Your eyes wide, mouth parted ever-so-slightly, such an obscene mixture of shock and ecstacy painted across your face. 
His girl was so beautiful. Especially when she was stuffed full of his cock.
“This is what you wanted, right?”
One hand steady on the camera, the other pulls you deeper onto his cock as Nanami begins to move inside you. Pulling out all the way till his leaking tip is just circling your sloppy entrance - only to ram his length into you mercilessly. 
“My girl wanted to be full of my cock?” he hums darkly, “S’full she can barely even speak?” Hungry eyes devour the way your pretty pussy was milking him so greedily, barely even letting him pull out to fuck back into you harder than before.
“Ah! Yes- hah-” you breathe out, “”Wanted hngh- s’bad-”
He maps every curve and dip of the way you grind down onto his cock, taking in the obscenely heavenly sight of his cock disappearing into your pretty pussy - and so does the camera. 
Click!
Another one - your eyes locked onto Nanami’s. Dripping cunt just barely in the frame as he continues ravaging you from behind. 
Back arched, such a sinful little expression on your face as you buck your hips wildly to meet his thrusts. As frantic as the hasty little movements of his thumb on your throbbing clit - not even circles anymore, just sloppy, sinful motions to get you off. 
“Hah- please Kento,”
Click! Click!
Oh, if Nanami had it his way these photos would decorate every hallway of this house. For everyone to see.
“Wanna- hngh- wanna cum, Kento.” you mewl, ass stinging from where Nanami’s toned pelvis smacked yours at a ceaseless, maddening cadence. Clit now ravaged from both his ruthless abuse and the heavy balls smacking against it with each thrust.
Click! Click! Click! 
“Then cum, darling.”
You see stars behind your eyes as you cum - or maybe that was the unforgiving camera. Capturing each and every detail of the way eyes, dazed and fucked-out, lock onto Nanami’s. Swollen lips dropping into such a pretty oh, Kento! Pushing yourself from the desk on shaky arms to arch so sinfully as Nanami goes over the edge as well. 
Camera shaky for the first time as he twitches inside you savagely, before pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your quivering walls. Trickling down your legs so lewdly, pooling at the sterile floors below - a problem for later. 
Click!  Ah, another gem for his walls.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - The urgent calls
When Choso video calls you, you know never to answer in public. Why? Well… 
“Cho, what is- Oh.” Your words catch in your throat as you take in the absolutely sinful sight on your screen, cunt clenching in anticipation as you slowly bury deeper into your covers.
Legs spread on the bed, such a pretty blush dusting his face, throbbing erection leaking furiously on his toned abs - your boyfriend was an absolute vision. 
“Baby…” he whines, sending a jolt of pleasure right down to your cunt. “Was missin’ you today.”
Ah, you can’t help but tease him a bit. Raising a brow, “Oh really?” 
Despite his absolutely ravaged state, Choso finds it in himself to scoff, “M’serious. Jus’ thinking about that slutty pink bra you had on today. How much better it would look on my bedroom floor.” 
A large hand makes its way on screen, deftly snaking down his milky skin - down, down down all the way from his abs, resting just at the tufts of black hair at his toned pelvis. Waiting. Teasing. 
Now it was your turn to scoff, pussy twinging impatiently at the way he was so stubbornly waiting for you to break first. Well, two can play that game.
Unbuttoning your shirt slowly - so agonizingly slowly - revealing just a flash of that pink he wanted so bad. That rips a low groan out of Choso, precum smearing on his palm as he squeezes his swollen cock. Success. 
“C’mon now, baby, don’t tease. Be a good girl f’me.”
Batting your lashes mockingly, “You first.”
You always did know how to get what you want, huh? Because with an impatient little grunt, Choso spits a steady stream of saliva once, twice onto his furiously red cock. 
Your mouth waters as he grips the base tight, so achingly hard and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Precum leaking down his glistening veins, pooling at the heavy balls that twitch at the mere sound of your voice as you mutter, “Oh. You really did miss me.”
“Mhm, your turn.” he gets out through a low hiss, desperation bleeding through your speakers and into the heady air. Starting to pull on his cock in shallow, mindless little tugs - just the way you do it.
Finally relenting, you slip off your top, reaching for the clasp behind your when-
“Keep it on. Now spread your pretty legs for me, baby.”
Choso’s greedy eyes are locked on the screen as you flip the camera, showing off your already-soaked panties. Oh, you little minx. 
“Shit. You don’ know what you do to me, baby.” he groans, movements getting jerkier. Fist flying up and down his cock - just wishing his hands were yours. Ah, how yours would be softer, prettier, straining to cup his thick cock. “C’mon now, my girl. Show me you wan’ me just as much.”
God, Choso thinks he could cum right on the spot as you hastily remove your wet panties, delicate trails of slick connecting them to your pretty cunt as you slide it down your legs. Yet, he manages to find it in himself to grit out a low, “Touch yourself the way I would, baby.”
And, well, you don’t need to be told twice. 
Bullying your fingers through your swollen folds, thumb just grazing your throbbing clit. Purposefully teasing yourself - purposefully not giving in to what you craved so bad. No, you were too entranced with what was onscreen. 
With the way Choso was fucking his fist so desperately. Like he was trying to fuck something delicious out. Harder on the base, featherlight on his flushed head. Thumb teasing under the slit just the way you would.
“Shit- Oh, baby,” Choso groans, his hips bucking wildly as if he could somehow close the distance between you. His grip on his cock almost painful as he pounds into his hand. Ah, how you wish that was your hand instead.
Your fingers dip lower, rubbing your entrance. A thrill running through you at the way Choso’s eyes widen as you slide a finger inside yourself with a whine of his name. 
“Need you here with me, need to feel you around me,” you pant, rubbing against your clit in time with his fist, eyes locked on the way his throbbing cock twitches in his hands at the mere sound of your voice. Palm running up and down up and-
“Choso, just come here an’ fuck me already.”
You catch a glimpse of his eyes flickering closed, breath slowing, a satisfied smile curling his lips and then- thick spurts of cum covering his toned abs. Glistening so deliciously in the dim lighting as Choso strokes himself through his high. 
You on the other hand…
“Cho~ Can’t cum without you here.”  you hum coyly, slightly whiny yet not desperate - not yet.
“Get ready, baby. M’gonna be there in five.” Ah, how you loved when Choso video calls you.
♡ GOJO SATORU - The wallpaper fiend
Gojo Satoru loved to show off his wallpaper, babbling about his “beautiful girlfriend” as he flashed the picture to any and everyone he came across. 
It wasn’t anything strange, really - just a slightly blurry photo of the upper half of your head, eyes slightly scrunched like you were in the depths of laughter. It’s only when someone stares too hard, finger pressing just a bit too long that Gojo snatches back his phone with an unreadable little smirk. 
Because if they had they’d notice it was a live wallpaper. 
One that - despite being so proudly the great Gojo Satoru’s wallpaper - was for only his eyes to see. One where the camera shifts ever-so-slightly downwards to show you splayed out deliciously on your mattress, pale, sculpted thighs straddling your face - zooming in on the way your swollen lips bulge wraps so lewdly around his throbbing cock. 
“Oh, sweetheart, jus’ look at you.” his voice rumbles from above, voice hoarse with desire. “Taking my cock so well, huh?”
All he gets are muffled groans, tears glistening in your eyes as Gojo shoves his length deeper down your throat. He chuckles lightly, fucking into your hot mouth in small grinds of his hips, “Oh yeah, forgot you can’t speak sweetheart.”
Ah, what a smug bastard. And despite the dick lodged in your throat, you find it in yourself to stare up defiantly into his greedy gaze, moaning sinfully around him. That makes that confident facade crumble a little, the camera is shaky as Gojo lets out a broken little, “Sh-shit. You’re really asking for it.”
And maybe you were a mastermind - maybe you were an idiot. Because Gojo pulls his hips back till his leaking tip is just kissing your kiss-bitten lips. Smearing his precum around your glossy mouths. Only to slam back into you mercilessly, forcing you to relax your throat - because Gojo’s had enough of playing game
His searing grip on your scalp just out of the frame as he fucks into your mouth like his personal toy. Not stopping till your nose is pressed into the snowy white tufts of hair at his pelvis. 
Camera scrambling to capture the way your throat bulges so obscenely as he fills you up, starting to fuck into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. “Mmm, ngh. Fuck, sweetheart. Can feel me inside you right…” A large, veiny hand makes its way into the video as it wraps around your throat, squeezing. Tight. “...here.” Gojo rasps over your choked-up moans. 
Tears were streaming down your face now, nails digging desperately into the hand wrapped around your throat. But it seems Gojo had no care in the world for them. Because he coos mockingly, “Awww, don’ cry, sweetheart. Jus’ look at that slutty mouth of yours, sucking the fucking soul out of me.”
And as the screen grows grainier, the camerawork more shaky - Gojo’s hips grow more frantic. 
Cock hitting the back of your throat at a maddening cadence in a way he wishes the camera could pick up. Hand tightening around your throat as he fucks into you faster and deeper. Hip chasing the feeling of your tongue wrapped so deliciously around his throbbing cock. Delicately tracing the veins along the side, flicking his sensitive slit just the way you know he likes. Over and over-
The screen flashes white - or maybe that was just Gojo’s cum. Shooting thick, endless spurts of his seed that paint your pretty face white. And oh, this was his favorite part, how you take it so well. 
Your tongue darting out to catch the stream of cum that gushes out of him, pooling it on your tongue before letting it slide to the back of your throat. Eyes gazing up so eagerly into his as you stick your tongue out to show, well, nothing. Taking him up so greedily. 
And if Gojo was any less of a man, he’d be showing this off to everyone he knew. And in the end, before the wallpaper goes back to that seemingly innocent picture of your face - if he turned up the volume real high - Gojo could hear his voice in the background, breathing out through ragged gasps. “C’mon, sweetheart, I wanna make a few more wallpapers.”
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A/N. LMAO this came to me when I thought about how Gojo is the type to have a polaroid of your tits behind his phone case. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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cheer-nympho · 2 months ago
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Thinking about Eddie driving up to the quarry one night to try and sell to the teenagers that usually hang around here,
But when he gets there only one car is parked and hidden behind the bushes framing the road.
A very familiar BMW with it’s windows steamed up.
‘Of course Harringtons getting some again. Lucky fuck.’ Eddie thinks as he lights a smoke, if only to warm him up a bit in the cold night.
Damn. From the condensation dripping down the BMW windows, they’re having no problem keeping warm.
Even from the distance it takes effort to not startle when the hand slams against the back window, creating a messy handprint on the white glass. Even from here he can see it’s a mans hand. Steve, he assumes. Jesus, whoever he has in that back seat is clearly getting railed practically through the seats.
He should look away, really. Knows that this is a bit fucked up. But…he can’t actually see anything. And really, Harrington shouldn’t have brought her out to the towns most known hangout. And its not like he was straining to hear, they were just SO loud. And…deep?
Eddie’s not exactly a connoisseur in the different noises of women, try as he may, but he’s pretty sure he’s only hearing a man right now. Sure, its still a pretty high pitched and punched out sound but noticeably a dudes- which confuses Eddie for a minute.
Harrington must just be really sensitive and loud. Maybe that’s why he had so many girls falling over him, the noises certainly weren’t turning Eddie OFF the interaction.
He can physically see the change in the cars bouncing when he assumes they’re…’finishing off’
Eddie doesn’t know why he’s still here. He could have- no, he SHOULD have left ages ago. But not long after the bouncing stops, the car door swings over and 2 legs swing out, hands coming down to fix their socks- clearly having hastily thrown his clothes back on.
The only thing is…Eddie doesn’t remember Harringtons legs being so long? The body looks out or place sitting in the open door, not like the familiar and practically famous silhouette of Steve against his vehicle. And it hits Eddie square in the face when the guy stands upright.
Cause Eddie DOES know the guy. He’s just stomach tippinglys aware that it is NOT Harrington.
That’s Johnny. Eddies (admittedly one sided) rival at the hideout. A fucking punk. Not in the way the adults of Hawkins use the term, he’s literally a punk rocker.
And his punk rocker ass is currently stepping out of Steve Harringtons freshly christened back seat. Well that…can’t be right. Harrington must just…rent out his car to couple or something. That must be it. Rich people are weird like that.
His theory is very quickly destroyed as Johnny knocks lightly on the roof of the car, cigarette already in the other hand, and pokes his head into the back. He laughs before a pair of legs flop out of the door. Legs attached to someone clearly too tall for a backseat. Legs attached to someone very male.
He should go. He needs to go. If not because of how his stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself, then because his best-buddy Johnny just tipped his head non-subtly towards Eddie’s van.
‘Shit shit shit shit-‘ He puts the keys in as fast as he can with shaking hands.
— And he so nearly got away too. So nearly never had to look at that BMW or its occupants again, live his life carefree.
All hope of that was cruelly dashed when he left hellfire to see Steve leaning against his van.
He scanned the area, in hopes someone else had stayed late because he was pretty sure Steve was about to give him the “talk and you’re dead” followed by a beating up. And that would suck.
Nowhere else to go but forward, he clutched his DND bag and hobbled over to Harrington- who hadn’t offered him anything other than a blank stare.
“Harrington.”
“Munson.”
“Pretty late to be lurking around school. People might get the wrong idea.”
“Don’t lecture me on lurking, man. We both know you were at the quarry.”
“I don’t really-“
“Johnny told me, would recognise your beat up ride miles away he said.”
Thankfully Eddie had enough brain power in him to add that to the list of reasons to fucking hate Johnny. In the time he had to scowl at the ground, Harrington had rounded behind him. Eddie span to meet him but was met with a rough hand to the chest.
He was pushed up against his van with a sharp movement, pulling a winded breath from him followed by a large ‘bang’ as Steve’s hand slammed to the side of his head.
“So, Munson. What did you see?”
“I didn’t see-“
“Try again.” A hand crept into his hair, not pulling but clearly threatening it with the way it was clasped.
“I saw…you and Johnny. In your car.”
Steve hummed and looked away from Eddie. “That’s not very specific, Eddie, try again.”
“Wha- I don’t know what you-“ The hand in his hair yanked, pulling his head so that even with their similar heights he was forced to look up at Steve, hands gripping uselessly to the side of his van.
“Try again.”
Oh.
Oh.
That’s what he wanted.
“I saw Johnny fucking you.”
He managed to lift his gaze to look at Steve and was met with an almost dopey smirk, his eyes barely focused as they stared down at Eddie half closed. Eddie melted right into the wall of his van because Steve Harrington was looking him like he’d never been hornier in his life.
“Fuck. He was Eddie, he really was and it was so good. You saw it right? Saw the car moving? Shit, man, it’s hard to get it moving like that. He was so rough.” Eddie just stared as Steve started falling further towards him, sinking into the weird little hold they both had.
“But there’s just one problem Munson.” Steve said into the side of Eddie’s neck, making him shiver and use all his willpower to keep his head where Steve’s grip had moved it.
“What- What problem?”
“My car is just too small. We needed more space, I needed more space.”
He brought his free hand up and slammed it to the other side of Eddie’s head. “Do you think you might know anyone with something more…spacious?” And when Eddie clocked exactly what he was implying, what he was begging for- he had never been so thankful for his shitty van.
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