#top class dry fruits

[healthylifestyleblogs]

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ let me blow your mind

pairing: badboy!han jisung x f!reader

genre: one-shot, high school au, smut

word count: 10,1K

warnings: a lot of marking! ⋆ groping! ⋆ biting!⋆ light!spanking ⋆ experienced!han and inexperienced!reader ⋆ dry humping ⋆ oral (f. and m. receiving) ⋆ dirty talking (han has a nasty mouth) ⋆ cunnilingus ⋆ squirting ⋆ face!cumshot

summary: you noticed him watching you from afar, though it never occurred to you why han jisung, the school’s bad boy, would be watching a shy, nerdy girl like you, but before you can even blink, you are thrown into a world of pleasure and right into his greedy hands

request by @khandzilla

──────────────────────

He thinks you are doing it on purpose. Your teeth nibbling, chewing at your pencil. Pink tinted lips, wrapping around it and staining it — and he just knows that the lip balm you always apply is strawberry flavored. You always sit at the front of the class, like the good student that you are and even from the back of the room, he can see the sweat glistening on your skin. In his opinion schools should not be open at such weather, but he isn’t that against it, because he could see more of your white thigh highs sliding down your yummy thighs. Such a good student — there has never been a day when he hasn’t seen you wearing the school uniform. You always made it look so good and especially when the weather was too much your luscious skin to handle. The sleeves of your white blouse are rolled up and to his delight few buttons undone at the top, but to his displeasure hair not put up to show off your neck. Everyday he tried to at least catch a glimpse of new skin.

But it wasn’t enough for him. He ignores his friends snickering, the loud noise disturbing his thoughts for a split second. His head falls into his hand, leaning to the side when of the students moves before him and into his view. He is only pulled away from his thoughts when you turn around to look at the teacher. He only at that realized that the teacher is walking around the class to hand out their graded tests. Han doesn’t even have to see it, he knows that he totally blew it. It didn’t matter, l the only good grade that matters is yours.

No, he doesn’t want to say that it’s a crush. To be honest it’s a borderline obsession. He wouldn’t go to school so often if you weren’t there, he doesn’t even care about keeping up his reputation anymore. He had basically memorized your whole schedule — you are always the first person in class, glasses almost falling off your nose as you are always buried in some textbook, you are always eating few pieces of fruit during the third break — strawberries, just like your lip balm, are your favorite, then your are eating lunch at the far corner of the cafeteria where you are looking out of the window and mostly, he memorized how you would always push your skirt down — how your tits would strain against your blouse and how you would apply your lip balm with that cute pout — there’s a individual obsession just with your lips and he wonders if they taste just as sweet as the look…and from what he has seen, you are also super sweet. He doesn’t talk to you, he wants to, but it’s way more fun making you flustered when you catch him staring. He wonders if you like him, because you are shy around literally everyone, however he wants to say that he is the one. He didn’t talk to you, just observed you, waiting for the golden opportunity to arrive and when the teacher goes to hand him his test he sees it.

Han notices the teacher’s frown before even seeing his score. “Do something about it, buddy…” Sighs out Mr. Lee, his tone almost sounding fatherly. Pity is the last thing Han wants, and he knows his friends won’t offer it anyway. They laugh at his score, loudly cheering when one of them matches it. Zero, in bold red and circled, just as he expected. He’s never been good at this sort of thing — put him in an English class and he will score the highest, when it comes to a physics test, only one person can do that.

Han looks up from the paper, eyes going back to the front and he has to hide a small smile appearing on his face, when he sees you already looking at him. Just from the corner of your eye, subtly, masking it as if you are looking at the teacher who happens to reach your desk at that moment. You tried to be sneaky, but when you met his eyes, you instantly look away, almost giving yourself a whiplash. “Good job, Y/N.” Says the teacher and you flash him a small smile of gratitude, putting your 100% marked test on your desk. And then Han sees it.

Maybe it’s easier than he thought.

────

You already sprayed the entire capsule of your portable perfume on yourself. You are sweating from head to toe and you for the first time wished that you were wearing anything other than your uniform right now. Even if your tie is loose, it feels like it’s choking you, scratching at your neck. You also hope no one, especially him, can smell your nerves. You feel like you died a little when you caught him staring again and you know, you can’t possibly face him anymore. You are already in rush you want to say, few hours of classes still ahead of you, so when you dash out the door that’s your excuse. Though can’t help, but wonder if he will ever talk to you and just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear someone call out to you.

“Y/N—“ The well known voice sings out your name. You feel your heart jumping, stopping in the packed hallway. You feel so many eyes on you right now, the cheerleaders few feet away from you, glaring daggers at you. You are already feeling hot, but now you are sweating just from the way he said your name. To be honest you thought he didn’t even know you which is kind of stupid — you always catch him looking at you, but you want to say that it is just a coincidence every single time. You slowly turn around and you breathe out shakily when he literally jumps right in front of you.

Han breathes heavily, chest rising up and down and you can’t look at him when his shirt is so open that you think he should be dress coded. Your eyes fall onto his tie instead, hanging low on his neck, but you still see the bright smile on his face. You don’t even want to think about how you two look next to each other. You — hugging your textbooks close to your chest as much as possible to calm your racing heart, hair sticking to your sweaty skin and him — shining brighter than a star, effortlessly gorgeous and confident in his stance.

He pushes his hair back, eyes wide to get a full look at you. You are slouching a little to appear smaller and he almost coos at how cute you look, however his eyes go a little lower and not in innocent manner. No one can judge him for looking down your blouse when your tits are perfectly smashed together and thinking about licking your salty sweat off them. His nose is hit with a big whiff of your perfume and it’s so intoxicating that he almost doubles over. When you push your glasses up on your nose, it pulls him out of the magic spell your perfume held him in. “Are you free after school?” He should’ve said it differently, but the look on your face was definitely worth it.

Your lips parted, finally glancing up at him. You can’t believe those words left his mouth. You feel your heart pounding, ears ringing. However when you give a small glance your eyes drift behind him instead. “Ehm…” Your eyes fall on his friends, leaning on the lockers and staring right at the two of you. They have their lips turned up into smiles and you hope it’s not what you think it is. This can’t be just some kind of joke, because when your eyes drift back to Han his eyes are shinning with hope. “Why?” You ask, quietly not being able to look at him fully from how intensely his stare is.

“Well—“ Han notices your attention drifting off, eyes going back and forth between him and something behind him. He frowns, turning around to look back and when he sees his friends he almost screams. They are visible making you uncomfortable and even if their smiles were nothing, but teasing, he doesn’t want you looking anywhere else than him. With the first word still on the tip of his mouth, he blocks your view with his body, resulting in him standing right in front of you. “You’re really good at Mr. Lee’s class.” Han could have gotten to the point a long time ago, but he purposely makes this small conversation last longer, just to shake you up a bit more.

You feel heat traveling to your face, eyes glaring at his tie, but now he is way closer. The fact he is not afraid to walk into your personal bubble should make you uncomfortable and it in some point does, but it also awakens butterflies in your stomach. You become giddy inside and you can’t hide the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, but it quickly fell at his intense look. “Thank you.” You whisper in question, perfectly done eyebrows rising to your forehead at disbelief. Han bites his lips, just like you are doing right now, completely unknowingly and he swears he can taste the strawberries on your mouth from here.

“Will you tutor me?” He asks and you have to step back a little to glance at him better, because you can’t breathe from how close he keeps getting. You pause at the ‘will’, he already knows that you won’t say no. “I suck so bad at physics and if I don’t do good at the next exam, I’m done. Mr. Lee said you are the only one who can safe me.” He says, exaggerating with his big expressions. He huffs, frowns and mostly looks at you with big puppy eyes.

Han drowns in your bashful state when he says the last sentence, you trying not to melt at his feet from the tone of his voice. You are just so overly taken back by this interaction that it is kind of hard to fully take it all in. You are already shocked that he walked up to you, talked to you and now he wants — no, needs your help? You don’t know if you can take it. “I-I—“ Your mouth is open, words at the tip of your tongue. However your mind is empty as you are not even sure what to say to him. Your mind goes back to his smirking friends and then to those jealous cheerleaders whose glares you still feel on your back. So much attention at once and mostly from him. Han waits, hands in his pockets, but both of you already know what you are going to say next. “I-I guess, I can—“

Han claps, the sound startling you, but he doesn’t see it as he looks at ceiling in greatfulness, though you don’t know it is mostly because of something else. “Thank you, Y/N! You’re a savior!” You shrink back at his loud voice, few people passing by you whispering to themselves. You feel hot, ready to pass out. You didn’t say yes, but also not no, you are not really sure what you wanted more — to go home after school or tutor him, well, he seems to know the answer for you. “Meet me before the school after?” Han says, already jumping back to walk back to his friends.

Your shuttering is cute, glasses fogging up at the bottom from your heavy sigh. “Oh, yeah!” Your voice breaks at the end and you want the floor to swallow you whole, but he only flashes you one of his dazzling smiles at the sound.

You stand there frozen in your spot, looking at him with small disbelief. You are already full of anxiety from just imagining yourself talking to him, he on the other hand only feels delight. He beams brightly, ignoring the remarks from his friends to look back at you for the last time. His eyes fall to the back of your thighs, hand keeping up your right sock up and he just can’t wait to see your skin up close again.

────

You are for the rest of the day on high alert, but at the same time and for the first, you see yourself not paying too much attention to your classes. Your hands are shaking, lip quivering. You don’t see Han anymore till lunch, however your eyes are staring into your book, though not even reading. He watched you the whole time, like usually, but other than lunch he didn’t go near you. You noticed that, but maybe you are just delusional, maybe those other times he actually wasn’t really everywhere near you, just like now. Maybe you are actually reading too much into things.

Han on the other hand really tried hard not to go near you. A lot of people were whispering about how there’s something going on between him and the nerdy, shy girl — well, not yet, he wants to say. He stays away from you to make you even more nervous and after school when he finally will meet up with you, you will be all shaken up, shuttering cutely like you always do.

When you stepped out of the school, the sun was already setting. You felt exhausted, but at the same time not at all, because you know you will not be able to relax because of him. For whatever reason…You stood at the end of the stairs to the main entrance, watching people walk by you, chatting. You kept looking down at your phone, reading the time minute by minute. It was getting really late for you and your heart kept beating faster the longer you stood there.

Han thinks he literally breathes just because of you. He can’t help those feelings and the thoughts running through him when he watches you stand there under the stairs, waiting for him. Your hair is tucked behind your ears, glasses hanging low on your nose and he melts when you nervously shift your weight from foot to foot. The way his heart skips a beat when he sees you move to turn around and walk away, breaks him and yet again it pulls him out his thoughts. He can’t let you get away, not when you are already so close, so he runs to catch up with you.

You hear heavy footsteps behind you and you are again startled by a booming voice. “Y/N, wait!” Han yells at you and your ears ring from just how loud he always is. You turn subtly around and he shakes his head at your unusual posture. It looks like you are guarding yourself. “Where are you going?” He asks you, puffing out air.

Shrugging softly, your eyes fall on the lit lamps around you and then the Moon. “Well it’s kind of late…” You are surprised by your leveled voice, but when you turn to look at him your voice dies at the end. You hate when you do that, it’s so embarrassing and even more when infront of him. You are actually surprised he even showed up, because you were really starting to think, it really was a joke after all, but how could you think that? He is so sweet…however, when looking at you, he thinks the exact opposite of himself.

Han is starting to panic a little at your words, walking around you to get a better look at you. “Huh?” He exclaims, glancing at his reflection in your glasses. “You promised to tutor me.” He pouts then, furrowing his eyebrows. You don’t hear the little fake tone in his voice, but his hurt expression melts your guard a little.

You didn’t promise him anything or did you? You can’t even think right now. “The library is closed.” You state softly.

He fights the urge to smirk, smiling only a little. “Yeah, I know.” He definitely knows. “I was thinking about going over to my place…to study of course.” Han drinks up your flustered state, the moment the words left him, you turned away so he wouldn’t see your face of shock. He can taste your shyness on his lips already and he is slowly starting to shake in excitement when you turn back to him.

The thought of going back to his place…it never crossed your mind. You definitely can’t handle being in a basically locked room where there would be just the two of you. On the other hand, you can’t say that the thought isn’t making you curious. “I don’t know…” You mumble, glancing at him briefly.

“Come on—“ He pressed, taking a bold step closer to you. “I won’t keep you up late.” Now there’s that smirk and when you timidly nod, he wants to kneel before you right then and there. The excitement pumping in him almost makes his veins burst, cheeks flushing just by the thought of you sitting on his bed and talking with that cute voice of yours. “Come on then, I won’t bite. It will be just the two of us, don’t worry.” Of course, he didn’t pay his roommate to stay out of their shared flat tonight.

‘Yeah, that’s what worries me’, you think. He walks you two back to his place, you keeping a small distance from him and he definitely didn’t like that. He lets you though, he would let you do anything and everything. Walking with you, his steps are quick, just to have more time with you inside his room. He really wants to know what is going on in the little head of yours. He wants to get under your skin, know your biggest likes and dislikes, fears and desires — what makes you shake. Han is acting crazy around you and you don’t even see it. You are so smart, but also such a dummy...He needs to show you, make you feel what you deserve.

The walk is silent, but it doesn’t take long before you two are standing in the elevator, waiting for it to lift you up to the 10th floor. It’s unusually quiet, no parties, no one in your way and he sees it as a blessing. You are not looking at him, even when you finally get into his shared apartment, but he knows he has your attention. He licks his lips, dry and thirsty and his whole head is spinning when he enters his room with you right behind him.

Your eyes go around his room, genuinely surprised by how clean it is. The walls are full of movie posters, musicians — your eyes land on his desk which is messy on the other hand. When you see the known magazine peeking out of the scattered papers, you instantly feel heat rising to your cheeks. You realize that he has been watching you the whole time when you glance at him and you are weakened by his look. His fingers play with the blue tie around his neck, nibbling at the material, loosening it and you breathe out sharply at the sight.

He finally has you in his room, he couldn’t believe it. “Take a seat.” Han says, gesturing to his unmade bed. Your eyes widened a little and his on the other hand close a little when your fingers just barely graze over his duvet.

“Here?” You mumble, playing with the strap of your shoulderbag.

He laughs, he has to. “Don’t act like you have never been in a boy’s room before.” He snickers, pulling out his phone from his pocket, but he doesn’t hear anything from you. His heart beats faster and he can’t help, but look somehow excited by your silence. “Fuck…really?” He is in disbelief, looking at you, just as you take a seat on the edge of his bed.

He is smiling wide and you thankfully don’t see it, attention on your sock clad feet instead. You are embarrassed to admit it and also too shy to lie. You can’t never lie or say no, it angers you a little, but Han could do that for you if you let him. He could be your voice, yours everything if you let him. Seeing you sitting on his bed, arched back as you fumble inside your bag is not helping him keep his sanity. Your tucked blouse rides up, exposing the skin of your lower back and he has to distract him by going through his playlist.

When you take out your small notebook and your phone, you suddenly hear a soft hum of music from behind you. Turning around, you see Han putting down his speaker which is playing a way too inappropriate song to listen to while studying. The low bass makes you vibrate and the thoughts of doing something completely different fill your mind. Why does he have to keep doing that? He is getting under your skin with his smooth moves and what you want to say, flirting. You don’t even know what it stands for really, maybe playing music while walking to your bed to lay down you means nothing.

“Won’t that be distracting you?” You wonder out loud, eyes still on the speaker even if he goes to sit on the bed with you.

“Not really.” He says, while looking at you. “Just don’t want you to hear my thoughts.” He whispers and you shiver at the tone of his voice, however you masked it well by shuffling a little more up on the bed. His eyes immediately fall down your shirt, watching your tits jump from your moves and he swears he can see the lace of your bra — was it baby pink?

“So what do you need help with?” You cough in your hand not to shutter again and it worked out well for you. You push for glasses up your nose, fanning your skirt so it drapes over your thighs, but from his point of view, he still can thankfully see your skin.

“Everything, honestly.” He laughs shortly.

You nod. “Let’s start with the basics then—“

You swear, he does it on purpose. Pushing his hair back, leaning back on his hands, looking with you with that twinkle in his eyes again and again. You don’t know what it is, you are not sure if you want to know. Every time your mouth would open, his attention drifts away, yet he looks only at you. You can see it in his eyes that he is somewhere else and it definitely reflected in his answers. Every one was incorrect and you don’t want to say that you are starting to get frustrated, but you explained everything to him at least twice, you told him a couple of good ways how to solve the questions, but no.

Also, something else didn’t help you keep your cool either. His room was awfully hot, even worse than a school’s classroom. You want to say it’s the weather, not those fuckboy-like songs — his playlist is vile or the way his also sweaty chest glistened in the city’s lights. The soft night breeze couldn’t reach your skin nor the sounds of cars under his window, you were really starting to drown in yourself. Han kept getting closer and closer, subtly, but after half an hour, it became clear to you. He was sitting in the middle of the bed, like the textbooks, while half of your ass was basically hanging out of the bed. If he gets any closer you think you will start to hyperventilate.

Han of course noticed your behavior. It surely must be because of him, your voice kept going lower, quieter, the more he shuffled closer to you. Your skin was almost drenching with sweat and the way your perfume flooded his whole room, he thinks, he will never open his bedroom window ever again. He can’t say that he also isn’t sweating and you definitely noticed that, because your eyes kept drifting to his naked chest. Maybe he should’ve changed and maybe he should’ve let you borrow something, so he then could cuddle with it later, but it would only ruin his fantasy.

He smiles again at your cute frown of frustration, it’s nice seeing something different on your face. Your pretty voice starts to melt more into the song, the more he looks at you. Never had been in a boys room…huh, he wonders if you have ever been with anyone before. One side is telling him yes, because — fuck, look at you. The school’s uniform looks on you way more sinful that it should and also your plush body, pink lips and pretty eyes hidden behind your glasses. Also you are a sweet person! Why does he keep forgetting about that? You are way more than your looks, you have brains and also charm that you don’t even know about. He wants to do more with you than just this, way more, but his filthy thoughts win over. On the other hand, you are just so shy, has someone ever tasted you? Suck at your pretty neck and tits, grabbed a handful of your ass? Tongue fucked you? Pulled your hair? Choked you? Bit you, mark you up…

“Why are you so tense, Y/N?” He cuts you off, not even realizing it, till your lips press into thin line. “Loosen up a little.”

You sigh, putting down your notebook to pull at your tie. “It’s just so hot…” You feel sweat dripping down your back a little, inner thighs glued together, because you didn’t change your position once in fear you would flash him. ‘Pity’, he thinks, staring at you while pulling off your tie with your painted nails — baby pink, just like your lips.

You literally have him wrapped around your finger, how can you not see it? Maybe if you would for once look at him in the eyes for long enough than you would see it. His eyes like to always drift lower and he just can’t help it when you look like that. Why do you? And why do you not see it yourself? Fuck, he wants to show you how pretty you are…He can’t go any longer, his mind is already all over the place and when he sees a glimpse of your bra, he has to fist his pants. Baby pink, like he imagined — he wonders if it matches.

“Yeah, that blouse is…tight.” Han almost moans out loud, but he thankfully bites down his on lip just in time, silencing that sound. Your own eyes drift to your blouse and then back at him. “You can take it off—“ He voices out his thoughts.

You are bewildered, in disbelief from what he just said. He doesn’t even seemed a little bit moved by his own words, leaning back on his hands, eyes fully on you. Did he look into your textbook at least once? Why didn’t you realize that it was on the same page the whole time? Maybe you were too occupied with trying to sound cool and collected and his nonstop staring didn’t help at all. “I don’t think you are even paying attention.” You sigh, playing with the fabric of your skirt.

“How so?” He asks, eyes going over your body and trying to memorize how it looks in the softly lit room.

“Well, you didn’t answer any of my questions right…” Which doesn’t mean, he was not paying attention, but his eyes tell you that you are right. In your state of pushing up your glasses again, you jump slightly in your seat when he sifts his weight to lean closer to you. “Why are you so close?” You ask, lump forming at the back of your throat.

Han stops moving, sitting right infront of you and trying to have a better look at eyes, but there is only the reflection of your phone screen in your glasses, preventing him from doing so. “Ask me again and if I answer correctly, I’ll get a treat.”

You frown. “Why?” You ask him.

“Motivation.”

There is short silence, the only noise being the music coming from his speaker. You take a small look around his room, squirming in your seat. “What do you mean by a treat? I don’t have any sweets…” You say, confused.

He wonders if you are truly so innocent and oblivious or if you are just playing with him. The sincere tone of your voice though told him everything he needed to know. A treat…he bets your lips taste like one. Han moves even closer, moving away your textbooks and you watch him with careful eyes. “I meant you.” He says smoothly with a cheeky smile and you are smacked across the face with his words.

He surprises you way too much and each time it’s a bigger surprise. You almost choke on your own spit, looking at him with wide eyes. “Oh! Oh, I-I…” And you are shuttering again, like always, but he never seems to mind. You are definitely not capable of talking right now, no words running through your mind, only him. Your hand grasping your phone is shaking and he at that points down at it.

“Ask me.”

You take a deep breath, a couple actually, because it’s seems like you can’t find it. Han’s stare is hard, unmoving from your eyes and you have to look down at your phone. Your thumb hovers over the screen, asking yourself if you should keep going. You are already feeling goosebumps on your sweaty skin, just from the thought of him doing something to you, but…what if he doesn’t answer correctly? Han can’t be serious right now…With your heart hammering against your chest, you scroll down the list of questions, trying to find the hardest one, because you don’t know what you would do if he answers it correctly. You don’t know if you want him to, you don’t know what you want. What does he want? You can’t help, but be curious and scared at the same time.

Han can see your internal struggle, but nothing about your body language is telling him, you don’t actually want him. “When a police officer uses a radar gun to measure a vehicle’s speed, what type of speed is measured? “ You ask, blinking at him in the lightly lit room, voice small. You actually think that this question is not even that hard, but seeing him having trouble with the other ones, you are curious what his answer will be.

Han fights to not smirk, while staring at you and he likes how your breath hitches when he confidently pushes all the things on the bed to the floor. “Instantaneous Acceleration.” He leans closer to you and you are having hard time to back away, watching him with mouth open as he puts your phone away.

“That’s correct…” You whisper in small disbelief, because you are starting to think he’s been playing with all along. However you can’t think much about it when he goes to sit right infront you.

Han is shaking inside when he leans over you, you fanning your pretty eyelashes at him and he swears you have never looked prettier. His eyes as well as his hand fall to your exposed leg. He hears the short, sharp intake of air, feeling goosebumps appearing on your skin as he trails his hand up and down. You are silent, squirming a little from how cold his hand is, but he quickly warms it up on your own skin. You are looking at him with big eyes, lips parted as his other hand comes to caress your cheek. Your chest keeps rising rapidly and you know, he can feel your skin lighting on fire. You watch his eyes fall to your lips and yours to his by reflex. “Just a kiss, Y/N.” His voice is like honey, his breath hitting your lips.

The hand on your leg stops at the meat of your thigh and when you feel his thumb rubbing small circles on your cheekbone you are in a daze. “Just one…” You whisper back, mostly to yourself, playing with your fingers nervously.

Han was right — you do taste like strawberries. You are sweet in taste and also in your moves. With your hazy state, he sees the opportunity to let his hand travel to your waist, squeezing immediately. A small noise of surprise falls from lips, just as he leaned to kiss you softly. However the moment he tastes you, the moment he feels the subtle touch of his lips over yours, the moment you made that sound — he needed more. The hand on your waist pulls you closer and at the same time, he presses his lips harder against yours.

You are trying to catch your breath through your nose, but it’s only taken away from you when moves his head to the side to lick into your mouth. Your head is empty, hands gripping at the fabric of your skirt as you try to at least keep up with him. His lips mold into yours, spit gathering in his mouth from hunger. When you poke your tongue against his he looses it. You are overwhelmed and he is not getting enough. Han wants to slurp at your spit, drink you whole in. He wants you to take over his own body, but at the same time, he wants to have you under him. Writhing in pleasure, fidgeting nervously from every move he makes, just like now.

He sticks his tongue in your mouth, tangling it with yours and he groans lowly at that. Your lips meet in nasty sounds that are perfectly mixing with the music he put on — it was perfect. The hand on your waist travels to the front, squishing the soft rolls of your tummy forming by how you are sitting. Even now you are trying to make yourself smaller, but he definitely won’t let you get away. You were so occupied by kissing him back that you let out a loud gasp when he suddenly bites down at your lip.

You pull away from him a little, the best you could do anyway, because he has you in a very tight grip. “Han! What are you doing?” You gasp out, bottom lip tingling in small pain.

Han is out of breath, a little disappointed to be pulled away so soon from you, but when he looks down at swollen lip, it didn’t matter too much. “Kissing you?” He says, smiling breathlessly and looking over your body. He can feel the weight on his hands, but also you are slightly frozen over, looking down at your lap. “Do you want to stop?”

He hopes not, he can’t live on otherwise. The hand holding your delicate face drifts down to your neck, pushing away strands of your hair to lean closer to you. His nose is hit with your sweet perfume again, eyes almost rolling back into his head. Seeing that you are not pushing him away, he leans down to kiss your skin. It tickles you, startles you from how good it feels to have his lips on your neck. He keeps distracting you with his moves, his mouth and you have to squeeze his shoulders to win his attention back. “Han, I—“

“Sorry, just can’t help it.” He whines out and you have to bite at your abused lip to silence your own sounds. You are not even recognizing yourself, while glancing at your reflection in his mirror. His body hovers over yours, both of yours legs almost tangled and you watch him pull away from you just to look down your shirt. “Do they hurt?” You are taken back by his question, following his eyes, seeing him look down your blouse.

Han is way more bold than he himself expected to be, but he can’t do anything other than act on his desires. “No…” Your bottom lip is pouts out and he almost goes to kiss you again, but he decides do something else.

You are gasping, hot breath hitting his face when his hands grasp your underboob. You are chewing already on your lip, watching his hands wrap around your tits, blunt nails digging into your skin. He definitely can feel your nipples hardening when he squeezes both of your tits at the same time. A small whimper leaves your lips and you have to shut your eyes in embarrassment.

Fuck, he knows that he probably looks crazy right now, when he literally drools over the sight of his hands on your tits. The tips of his fingers nibble at your blouse, pushing it to the side to reveal your bra to him. He is in shock that you actually wear something like that to school when someone could just take a peak or spill something over you. The almost see through fabric wraps around you so nicely, cute little bow in the middle and his thumb flickers hungrily over the soft skin spilling over the top. “Hmm, your bra looks really tight…are you sure?” You choked out another sound when he gropes your tits. “You want a massage? You’re always so tense, Y/N—“

You whine, pressing your hand over your mouth when he latches his lips on your nipple, taking the material of your blouse and even your bra inside his mouth. He can taste your perfume, the softener you use, but mostly you. His eyes are still on your scrunched up face, even while drooling over you. “Fuuuuck, look at you—“ When he bites down at your nipple a soft, shy moan leaves you.

“Han…” You breathe heavily, hands in your lap shaking from his mouth on your breast. He switches to your right nipple while his fingers twist and pull at the other. You are trembling already, shivering when he suddenly blows cold air on you. You look drown at him with your eyes droopy, glasses fogged up at the bottom and he definitely doesn’t look any better.

His plump lips are red and swollen, spit all over his mouth and when he leans away from you, you finally see what he has done to you. Your white blouse is soaked through, pink bra showing under the now see through material and you still feel your nipples tingling when he pulls you closer to him. “Closer, come closer—“ His voice is whiny, stuck at the back of his throat. You watch him spread his legs out, caging your body and when he taps both of his thighs you are startled a little.

“On your lap?” You bite your lip, looking at him from beneath your glasses. Han is already nodding his head, pulling you closer to him, scrunching up the material of your shirt between his fingers. His cock is already straining against his pants, twitching at the sight of you. Your skirt rides up when you shuffle your way to him and his hands are already on your waist, eagerly pushing you down on him. And when you did — oh, he almost fucking cums right when your pretty, clothed pussy falls on his cock. “Yeah, that’s it —move a little–“

He is already putting pressure on your hips and you can’t even breathe at that moment. You can feel him under you and it sparks up something in you that you have never felt before. You are embarrassed that you can already feel your underwear sticking to your slick, hands shaking on his wide shoulders. From this angle you see him in new light and he is glowing. His eyes are comically wide, tongue poking out his mouth when he just barely grazes his crotch over yours. “Han, I’ve never..” You whimper at the end, too weak to stop him from moving against you.

His hands are gripping your hips rather painfully, he is aware, but when his cock grazes over your pussy, he blacks out. “It’s okay, let me show you, yeah? Want you to feel good, you want that right? You deserve it so much—“ His mouth is full of you, kissing down your neck. He licks a long stripe over your pulse, wrapping his lips around the pumping vein just to suck at it. Fuck, he is really getting under your skin…

Your hand falls to the back of his neck, crying at how hard he sucks your skin in his mouth, making you burry your nails into his skin and he literally growls. He doesn’t stop at that though, his lips move way lower, right to the skin peaking out of your bra. His saliva drips down your neck to that spot and he sure sees it as a sight to mark it up. You are already calling out his name and he is kind of disappointed in himself that he told his roommate to go, because you definitely deserved to be heard. Your moans, whimpers, choked sighs — no, those are his, his only. He is thriving with the fact that he is the one making you feel like this and he is hoping that he will be the only one.

He needs more of you, he thinks, while nibbling at the soft skin of your breasts. Han pulls away from the spot with a pop! and to his delight you are already looking at him with those glossy eyes of yours. “Someone will see that!” Your voice is still so soft, even if you at trying your hardest to sound angered.

Han glances back to the spot, where a purple hickey is forming and he has to go over it with his fingers. “I don’t care and you shouldn’t either.” Your lips fall into thin line, silent moan coming out of you when he squeezes your tits. Your body looks absolutely sinful in his hands — glasses on your nose almost falling off, neck covered with love bites, white blouse hanging off your shoulders, exposing your pretty tits covered in that pink bra and your legs? You keep squeezing them around him to relief yourself and that makes him grab a hand full of your ass to push your cunt against his cock. “Come on, Y/N, make yourself cum…” Han is literally in heaven when your hips jump forward and when your face shows a shock by the sudden pleasure you start doing it more. “Like that yeahhhh-“

Your breathing is heavy, hands grasping his shoulders, holding for dear life. He wonders if you ever humped your pillow, because you are moving like you did — he has to buy you a pillow with his face on it. He leans back on his hand to get a better look at you. You are pouting, huffing, trying so desperately not to let out any sounds but, he is not having it. His hand pushes your skirt up, just so his hand can meet your cheek with a nasty slap.

The sound echoes in the room and you finally let out a moan, the stinging pain quickly melting into pleasure. “Fuck, I can feel your pussy soaking my cock–“ Han grits through his teeth, his own hips jumping to bump into yours. “You are so pretty — so fucking pretty…you like when I call you that?” Humming, he watches your face become beet red even if your skin is dark in the soft light of his room. He can feel your legs shaking, his hands traveling to your ass to abuse it between his fingers. It almost looks like Han is only using you for his own pleasure and he kind of is.

He is huffing, groaning, spit gathering in his mouth from the sight of you bouncing on him. His hands on your ass jiggle the fat and you whimper in small embarrassment that is only being swallowed by his mouth. Your mouth is basically just hanging open, letting him tongue fuck you, because you can’t simply keep up with his moves. You are already out of breath, hips jumping wildly in pleasure and you know you are on the edge as well as him when he slap your ass again to gain your attention.

“Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum on this cock — fuck, yeah. Make it messy, Y/N, because I want you to soak through my pants, so every time I wear them, I think of you humping your pussy on me—“ A sharp moan leaves you, feeling the rumbling in your lower tummy. You are having a hard time keeping up with your own pleasure, whining from the pain in your thighs, but he thankfully takes over. Han fucks into you rapidly, eyes drifting from your bouncing tits that are falling out of your bra back to your face of euphoria. “That’s it, such a good girl–“

With a loud moan you burry your face into his neck, cumming hard over him. Your legs are shaking from pain and pleasure, eyes blurry with tears. Han is smiling breathlessly like a crazy man, caressing your head, smoothing down your hair. He can feel your hot cunt leaking, cream from your orgasm staining the black material of his pants. His hold is soft, letting you ride out your high just because his minds keeps spinning in images and the image of him burring his face into your spend cunt is one of them.

You are thrown onto the bed and you can’t do much against it in your exhaustion. You sigh when he comes to hover over you, your eyes automatically going to his open shirt and you almost drool at the sight of his abs and tiny waist. “Fuck, baby you are amazing—“ You close your eyes, shying away from him a little and he laughs at that. “Always so shy…” You hum in agreement to his surprise and he at that goes back to suck more at your neck. His bites are mean and also his bold hands that grope everything in their way. His nose tickles your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin. Your hands finally rest upon him, just barely, but he can feel your fingers at the bottom of his shirt. When he looks down is eyes however don’t fall on your fingers, but at the spot right between your legs. Your thigh high socks are still by some miracle, digging into the skin of your inner thighs. Your skirt is flipped up, so he has a perfect view of your underwear and how he hoped, it fucking matched.

The lacy material is already ruined by your leaking pussy and when he if looks carefully enough he can see the outline of your folds. “Holy shit, look at that!” He leans back into his knees while you press your face into his pillow in embarrassment. How can you be so shy when you literally rode his cock just few minutes ago? He thinks, he’s in love…

The panties are deliciously digging into your hips, thighs just begging to be wrapped around his head and how could he resist that. Han shuffles down the bed rather quickly, mouthing at your thigh next and you are left trembling again. You are already exhausted, yet you think you want more — need more. You are curious about what else he can do to make you not feel like yourself anymore. The skin of your inner thighs is sensitive, you know that, because you sometimes like to pinch the skin between your fingers, just like he is doing it with his teeth. “Sensitive—“ You warn him, shuttering as he bites and licks at your thighs.

He looks up to you, not stopping however and then the tip of his tongue is hit with sweetness. His head is already so close to your pussy, but he has to lick up all of your juices from your skin firstly, just replacing it with his spit. “Let me eat your pussy, I need it…I swear, I will make you feel so good—“ You are already nodding your head, fisting the sheets, just as he hooks his finger in your underwear. “Let me blow your mind, baby.”

Han almost pulls out his phone to take a picture, because he has never seen a pussy so pretty. From your orgasm it’s a little swollen, red, clit just begging to be sucked into his mouth. He can smell your arousal from here, but he needs you closer — he needs to drown in you. His hands slide your body down and you yelp form how easily he did that, letting him push your legs up to your chest. You want to cry from his blown out pupils, tongue hanging from his mouth and then finally watching him press the slick muscle against you.

Your body jerks from the new feeling, a little puzzled by it, but you can’t really think straight, when he starts to fuck you with his mouth. Han’s eyes are rolled back into his head, while slurping you all up, sucking at your labia, your hole, just barely letting his tongue slide in and flicking your puffy clit. He can feel it pulsating in his mouth, smacking his lips at your taste — strawberries and cream. Han can’t get enough of how soft you feel, cock painfully pressing against his pants, however it only makes it feel better. The pain combined with the pleasure of eating your cunt is the most erotic thing he has ever felt.

“S-slow down!” A pathetic plea leaves you, but he doesn’t hear it. His nose is buried in you so deep that he has trouble breathing, face becoming red from the low intake of oxygen. He doesn’t need oxygen when he is breathing in something much more pleasurable. He can’t fight his hips from humping against his bed. The hands on the back of your thighs push them further to your chest, letting him press his mouth into your leaking hole. His tongue flattens, licking a long stripe from the rim of your ass to your clit. “Han!” So sweet and tight…

Your pussy sucks his tongue right in, even if you are shaking from overstimulation. He needs to feel you orgasm on his tongue, so he is on a mission to make you cum as fast as possible, just to taste more of you. “How do you taste so good? It’s the fucking strawberries, you always eat, I swear-“ You are literally crying, tears streaming down your face and his hips flew away from the bed, because he almost cums in his pants.

Your hand comes to push his head away simple because you can’t even think from hard he is pressing his tongue against you. Your pussy is on fire, liquid lava filling up your tummy and you literally scream when he starts to slurp meanly at you. The sound is so loud, hand shaking and just lying on his head. You can’t control your trembling body and when he starts to shake his head from side to side, you are crying out, pleading for him to just slow down a little, but he only starts to suck your whole pussy into his mouth. “Han! F-feels weird, ah!” You want to push his head away, but he is acting like possessed, nails digging into your skin and you know there are definitely going to be bruises.

Han can’t stop, not when he tastes the hot cream leaking from your hole, smearing all over his chin. He is shaking inside, because he knows, why you are warning him and that makes him go even harder. His tongue is numb, lips red, but when he goes to suck at your clit, he hears that moan again. Your eyes are wide open, back arching when he nibbles at your nub and this orgasm almost takes you out.

He sees your eyes rolling back into your head and then he feels you squirt all over him, coating his face and bed in your pleasure. His lips are parted, drinking you up and he wants to cry at your beautiful state. “So, good—“ Han is whining, hips jumping in the air, looking at your squirting pussy. Your holes spasm, your painfully swollen slit pulsating on his tongue and he is simply amazed by your body.

“Fuck…” You mumble, feeing your soaked thigh highs melting into you. Han is shocked by the word leaving for pretty lips, while he crawls his way up your exhausted body to kiss you sweetly. You taste yourself on his lips and you have to say you do taste rather sweet. Leaning back, you try to look at him, but your glasses are all the way down your neck, so he puts your glasses back on your nose for you and you immediately sigh in embarrassment at his wet face, shirt and even few strands of his hair. “I’m sorry—“

Han eyes widened at your sad eyes, shaking his head immediately. “No, baby.” He coos, caressing your cheek softly, like he just didn’t make you squirt just by his mouth. He is really a lot to take in. “You did so well for me—“ With each word he kisses a part of your face — your forehead, cheeks, nose, cupid’s bow, before his lips land again on your lips.

“I did?” You shiffle slightly and he feels filthy, because your face is making his cock swell painfully. He needs to cum or he will go mad. You can tell he that he is hurting in his pants, because you can feel his hard cock against your thigh and your eyes quickly fall down to catch a sight of it.

He breaths out in a small disbelief at your move, catching you in act. “Wanna make me feel good too?” Your big eyes gaze at him in wonder. “How about I teach you how to suck a cock?” You sharply gasp at the words coming from his plump lips and he knows that he won’t last long, just by your cuteness. You softly nod your head, just a small shy smile appearing on your face and Han then roughly pushes your cheeks together to maneuver you.

It hurts a little, but you let him guide you to the end of the bed, throwing one of his pillows down on the floor for you to kneel on. You are in a trance, while looking up at him, watching him move down the bed, so his crotch is right before your face. You are looking at his covered cock innocently, hands in your lap. You look heavenly in your post-orgasm state, kneeling before him like a slut…”Come on, baby — pull them down.” Han helps you guide your hands to his zipper, your fingers grazing over him in the process. The sound of the zipper is loud, it rings in your ears like your heartbeat as you watch him push down his pants with his boxers following right after.

Your gasp is delicious, mouth hanging open, eyes only on him. His cock is leaking, droplets of pearly cum coating his flushed, almost purple tip, his balls are swollen, ready to burst at any moment. Han is fully aware that this is your first time seeing someone like this and he really is enjoying himself, because of it. Your eyes keep going up and down, mesmerized by the length and thickness. You don’t know what is considered big, but you are sure Han never let anyone down with his pretty cock.

You watch him closely, when he wraps his hand around himself, squeezing at the base. Han is watching you too — how you bite your lip, how your glasses are slightly dirty from all the activities you two did and how you are keeping a good eye on how he jerks his cock off. “Gimme your hand—“ You are careful, slowly giving him hand. The moment your hand is replaced by his, you sigh in surprise and he groans in pleasure. “Move your hand up and down…yeah, just like that, you are doing so good for me—“ The feeling of him in your hand is weird, but not bad, he feels hard yet squishy and you have to squeeze him to see how it feels. “Fuck! Come closer.”

His hand becomes tangled in your hair and you hiss softly, when he pulls at it, pushing your head closer to him. “Should I lick it?” You asks, shyly, glancing up at him. “Just like you did to me?”

Han wonders where you have been his whole life for a second, before he quickly nods. “Yeah, lick it, baby — suck on the tip too.” Your hot tongue then meets his painful tip and he hears you hum at his taste. Kitten licking it, he pushes your hair away from your face to look at you better.

Your eyes are closed, frown that he knows is from concentration plastered on your face. Your hand is still around him, not moving, maybe because it was too much for your little head to handle, but he still wraps his own hand around yours to move it up his cock. Your eyes shoot open, hand moving now on your own and when you start to kiss at his cock head, he moans in delight. “Squeeze your hand a little…good girl, now suck on my cock—“

Your lips wrap around him, tongue poking at his hole perfectly. You can see why he enjoys giving so much and you definitely want to thank him for that. He’s been so nice to you, making you feel so good. You suck a little harder, mouth already halfway full of him and you for a split second think you may have done it a little too hard, but you are quickly proven wrong.

Han whimpers, the beautiful sound, making you press your legs together. When he pushes your head down further you let him, even if your scalp is on fire from his grip. “Put your hand on my balls and keep your mouth still for me, okay?” You only hum around him, making him whine more. Like he said, your hand unwraps from his cock to travel down his balls, keeping it there and waiting for the next instructions. “Play with them, do what you want with them, while I fuck your mouth.”

You moan around him again, spit pooling out of mouth and down the hand that squeezes his heavy balls. You almost pull away from him when he starts to snap his hips up. You immediately gag around him, breathing through your nose heavily. Han is leaking into your mouth, watching carefully how your throat contracts around him. From having you hump his cock to making you squirt on his tongue and now having your mouth on him, he can’t fight his quickly approaching orgasm.

When your nose and glasses hit the hair on his pubic bone, it makes you gargle a little and he finally knows where he wants his cum. Those fucking glasses — they complement you so well and you look like wet dream right now, his dirty fantasy come true, he wonders what would you do if anyone would catch you like this. The nerdy, shy girl taking a cock down her throat like total slut and being so obedient for the school’s notorious badboy. “Ha! Ahhh, fuck, I’m cumming—“ You suck in air, face red as he suddenly pushes you off him. You look at him, hand still playing with his balls that you feel twitching in your grasp. The cute, confused face makes him groan loudly, his own hand wrapping around his cock. The hand in your hair tightens, pushing your head down to make you kneel down at his feet again. Your eyes caught the sight of him jerking himself off quickly, cock right in your face and you gasp when he cums over you.

Thick ropes of white land on your glasses, making you close your eyes in reflex. Han is moaning loudly, pumping himself dry and he thinks he could cum again just by the sight of your pretty face covered in his cum. “Y/N…” It lands on your glasses, your eyebrow and lips and when you on instinct go lick it off, he knows that it is over for him.

Han Jisung is completely speechless. Your face is covered in him, lips red, body teared apart and covered in his marks. Purples, reds from his selfish lips and hungry hands. Mind empty, only pleasure lingering. He caresses your face softly in a absolute devotion, mirroring your smile of happiness, mixed with exhaustion. He looks down at you, like you are the thing he has been searching for and all that’s left to say is that...you are going to be forever his.

[nouearth]

double-stuffed.

peter parker x male reader x jaime reyes.

summary: nothing bonds two men who hate each other more than a sloppy mouth, and a sloppy hole.

wc: 13.1k. genre: smut. warnings: college au, friends with benefits, top!peter, tasm!peter, jealous!peter top!jaime, jealous!jaime, bottom!reader, threesome, rough-sex, blowjobs, handjobs, double-penetration, dirty-talk, muscle worship, body worship, fingering, ass-eating, mouth-fucking, dry-humping, breeding, eiffel-tower, filthy smut, loads and loads of cum, peter and jaime are rivals, reader is a slut, and reader also has a stretched out and sloppy hole by the end!

notes: how tf did i just write 13k of pure smut. ok well, not pure smut since i added some backstory, BUT. i wrote a lot, like??? hello??? someone check up on me!!!

The cold air breached through the cracked-open window in Peter’s bedroom. It’d been the winter season for months, yet snow had become a rarity with every passing year. It was much appreciated when you saw the ice crystals accumulate and cover the ground until it felt like you were practically walking on crunchy clouds.

Though, despite the weather, it didn’t stop classes from continuing unfortunately.

Another gust of wind blew into his bedroom, and you pressed closer into Peter’s body. Legs entangled with his longer limbs, and he’d bring your front leg over his hip for extra comfort, simultaneously providing himself another opportunity of friction to thaw out his goosebumps.

“Pete…” You muttered into the kiss. It came out in hesitant sputters, breathless as his hips began moving against yours in a lazy yet fruitful pressure. 

You weren’t sure when it happened; Peter had an incredibly poisoning effect on you that blurred time altogether; but your jeans were tossed to the corner, leaving you in your sweater and briefs. He was dressed, or rather undressed, similarly; a blue sweater that contrasted your beige, except his pants were unbuckled down to his knees.

“Why did you open the window? I’m cold.” He muttered back, detaching his lips from yours to settle onto his second favorite part of your body—your neck. 

Peter was observant. He had catalogued sections of your skin that would honor his ears the sweet and delectable sounds of your moans from many times prior. 

Simply kissing your neck wasn’t enough. Licking multiple stripes beneath the underside of your jaw made you stiffen and swallow down any potential sounds. It was a leap forward, but you were resistant to him—at the very least, you did well in feigning it—and he’d start suckling to hammer ice picks at the barricade that had seemingly repelled all of his actions.

“Would help if you had your pants back on, you know—“ You answered after several long moments. Your mind had pivoted to Peter’s pair of lips by now, closing your eyes to the sloppy sounds of his markings as you breathed in the scent of his shampoo.

When he felt a swallow, your adam’s apple bobbing for aid—to catch some sort of breath—Peter could see the barricade crumble, feel his liability in infecting you with desire and lust as he felt a tent forming in your briefs. And he’d bite a mark into your flesh to let you out of your misery, drawing out the poison with several hard sucks until it was bruising. A gasp and multiple drowsy moans of his name heightened his senses and Peter felt his ears redden with heat from how absolutely devouring you sounded.

You felt his hand slip under your sweater and made its way towards your chest, pinching and circling your nubs with gentle fingers.

“Besides,” There was a familiar heat being stimulated with every grind of his hips, every tweeze of your nipples, and you’d thank Peter in between with a motion of your own. A languid kiss accompanied as you pressed intimately close, slowing the eagerness of Peter’s movements as both of your bulges collectively rubbed and throbbed when direct contact was being made. “Doesn’t seem like the cold is affecting you much.”

He chuckled at your tease. “Yeah? I’m just getting started too—“ The same hand that was thawing the goosebumps off your chest cascaded back to its rightful place on your thigh, then to the cheeks of your covered ass before he playfully squeezed and slapped in turn.

You let out a laugh, pushing yourself back onto his palms when he’d begun kneading at your flesh. His eyes were focused on your bitten lips, clearly isolating any more noises that would make his ears burst into flames if they hadn’t already. 

But he was selfish. He needed more of you.

Whenever you pushed back, he pulled you forward, rocking you into him—into the tent forming stubbornly in his boxers. One hand rested on Peter’s cheek and there would be moments where you’d ever so  gently cupped the plumpest section of his skin when you rolled into him just right.

“Fuck, Pete—“ It started off innocent with your hips moving back slowly, languidly into him as if you had no intentions of finishing what you started.

You were spellbound. He tantalized every ounce of thought until he had become the sole proprietor of your brain, leasing you a vitality that you could only repay in pure and absolute pleasure.

“Shit—“ The collaborative movements had enough momentum to coincidentally shift his boxers until the slit aligned with the tucking of his erection, and with one more roll of your hips, you drew Peter’s weighty cock out from the opening. 

“Keep doing that… fuck. My dick’s out.” He was desperate in his demands and equally distracted as he constantly switched gazes between the way your clothed bulge rubbed against his hard-on, and the parting of your swollen lips, to which he immediately seized the chance to slip his tongue inside of you.

He explored you in every way possible, licking inside of your mouth then pursuing your wet muscle in a brief yet sloppy chase, swiveling his tongue around yours until you surrendered into his hunger. His hands remained on your ass, squeezing and kneading at your cheeks as you continued to hump him—continued to hump his cock, your bulge pressing intimidate against his as Peter’s erection was sandwiched between your bodies, providing no window of escape.

“Wait,” You gave him a slight push on the chest when you familiarized yourself with the golden hour streaming past his window, and somehow Peter took your movements to maneuver you on top of him, sitting you on his lap. He kicked off the remaining length of his pants while you searched the surface of his bed for your phone, scoring when you felt a familiar weight in your hand. 

You clicked open to the lock screen as Peter’s hands continued roaming free around your body, practically fucking himself into the barrier that were your tight briefs, and sighed. “Class is in thirty.”

“And? You can make it in time, or skip class? Fuck—I’m close…“ He reasoned and pleaded with his eyes, almost comically desperate.

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head, pressing your lips into a firm line as you grounded yourself to falter Peter’s hips to a disgruntled pause. “It’s a twenty-minute walk from here. And I don’t want to keep my partner from waiting! We were supposed to meet up earlier—“

“You seriously giving me blue balls right now? That’s a first—“ He grumbled, unwilling to let you go as his grasp tightened around your hips. It only loosened when you pressed a kiss to his lips again, whispering a soft apology in the delicacy of it.

“Sorry… I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

You lifted yourself off of the bed to Peter’s dismay and re-adjusted the tent in your briefs, slipping into your jeans after.

“Partner?” Peter’s curiosity was piqued, only because his courses rarely had group projects beyond the usual lab-work. “Is he nice? She? They?”

He followed after you, begrudgingly rolling off of his bed when the mere mention of your classes reminded him of his own deadlines approaching. He tucked himself back inside of his boxers. Though, a large tent greatly remained.

“He. You might know him? He told me he was in a couple of my classes before then, and those were all the same ones you and I were in.” Your eyes scanned for your books, collecting it into your arms when you found them, then for your backpack after.

Peter gave your shoulder a small nudge and you turned back, finding your backpack hanging by his fingers. “Yeah? Who?”

“Thanks,” You took your bag from him, swinging it onto your shoulder, and then pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek. “Uh… Jaime! Jaime Reyes.”

“Jaime…?” Peter paused in thought, then frowned as if he ate one of your favorite sour candies. “That… asshole in Film Studies?” 

He followed you from behind as you exited his bedroom and headed towards the entrance of the apartment.

“You remember him? I don’t think I even remember what we watched in that class, to be honest. Was he that bad?”

“Yeah… Always dismissed my critical theories like they were completely wrong. Remember how we were randomly assigned a partner and we’d be stuck with them throughout the semester? He was mine! Peer-reviewing was hell with him… ” Peter bitterly recounted the memories as you listened.

There was a puzzled expression on your face that Peter found himself half-humored by, but your gaze snapped into a bright realization, as if the lightbulb above your head had exploded, the more he explained.

“Oh, yeah…! You guys were constantly going at each other when we would do those Socratic seminars. Thank god for you two, otherwise I would’ve been the one debating or asking questions.” You half-joked, but cleared your throat when there was little to no amusement in Peter’s demeanor.

“Well, maybe he thought you were cute.” You attempted to reason. “And that was his way of flirting? Or maybe he was intimidated by another smarty-pants in the class and he was over-compensating.” You snorted, holding onto the wall as you slipped your shoes on a foot at a time.

“Maybe…?” He sighed, observing you as his erection took a painful lap in its journey back to being flaccid. “Don’t take it out on me if you get a migraine because of him.”

“Pft, I deal with you on a daily basis. I can handle anything.” You finalized your outfit with a coat and a scarf around your neck. “I’ll be back!”

“Wait—“ Before you exited, he pulled you back to him by your wrist, grinning. “You got something in your eye.”

“I don’t feel anything—“ Peter took ahold of your cheeks and cradled them in his palms—plump flesh that were warm enough to convince you to skip your class for today and make a blanket fort with him instead. You smiled as he leaned close, centimeters from touching his nose with yours, and you could feel your heart weighing heavier than usual, swelling with ease the longer Peter gazed into your eyes.

And somehow, it didn’t even burst when he abruptly blew into your eye, obnoxiously laughing. “Now you do.”

“Asshole.” You elbowed his arm, his laugher quickly infecting yours, and you bid him goodbye with a peck on the lips. “Do your homework!”

Taking a painful glance at his desk from the entrance hall, piles of textbooks, notebooks, and sticky notes mocked and taunted Peter of his impending deadlines.

He groaned, dragging his feet back into his bedroom and towards his desk. “Can’t promise that.”

There was indeed something way worse than having blue balls.

“You’re still up?” Peter stepped out of his bedroom with a scratchy yawn. The dryness of his throat never failed to rouse him awake around 3 AM. His tousled hair bounced with every sluggish step towards the water filter, pressing a kiss to your cheek mid-way. 

“When am I not…” Your voice was dull and monotonous as you remained fixated on the screen of your laptop, typing away at a filled word document. You had a late reaction to his kiss, turning towards Peter for a kiss on the lips instead—a reward for your hard-work for the day—but he’d already left to chug a glass of water down.

“I thought you were finished with your project by now?” He filled another cup of water before properly joining you on the couch.

Peter’s appearance for the night alerted you to clear your mind and take a breather. Your laptop was shoved off to the side and his arm immediately opened to bring you closer. You could feel the warmth of his gaze glazing over you with worry as he passed his cup of water into your hand.

“Yeah…” You sighed, drinking the lukewarm liquid in tired sips. “Turns out we needed to write an essay per topic, not include the three we’ve chosen in one collective essay.” When you finished explaining, you gulped the entire glass down, and set it on the coaster.

“That’s… tough, and annoying, and I’m sorry.” You and Peter laughed as lethargy devastated him of the vocabulary needed to properly sympathize for you, but his presence was more than enough. He rubbed your shoulder, giving one side an affectionate squeeze as a simple act of support while you leaned into him. “What’s Jaime doing?”

“The same thing. He’s coming over in the afternoon, so we can hopefully finish the rest.” You could feel Peter stiffen. If he had a switch on his body, it was flipped and glued to defense mode because as much as he hated to admit it, he was intimidated by Jaime. 

“Be nice, okay? I mean, what—we were sophomores? We were all figuring ourselves out early on.”

“Hm.”

Peter was intimidated by how much time Jaime was spending time with you in and outside of class; by how quickly you seemed to have bonded over the course of a few weeks; by how intimate you seemed to have gotten with him judging by the fresh amount of hickies displayed on your neck, dethroning Peter’s own set of bruising marks.

It was all his fault—Peter’s. 

He was the one that insisted on whatever you and him have had going on instead of pursuing a romantic relationship like you wanted. There had been many times where he regretted that decision; times where he thought making you his was simply a fleeting thought and nothing more. But it backfired, and regret came back in a full, disastrous, home-wrecking storm of karma.

“Get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” It was Peter’s sudden movements that made you jolt after enduring the long silence. He got up from the couch and walked back into his bedroom without sparing you a glance.

As if the thickened air in the room wasn’t telling enough, Peter’s stoicism solidified your assumption. You sighed a weight that fueled the tension looking free.

He was furiously jealous.

Peter hated how you came back from class later than you usually did. He hated how Jaime’s cologne of cedar wood and musk stung his nose instead of your usual scent of oak moss and citrus peels. He hated how every time he caught a glance of your phone, it was a text massage from Jaime. He hated how Jaime had a bug emoji next to his name, similar to how Peter had a spider next to his. He hated how Jaime had infiltrated your life, to the point of you having to base your schedule around him now.

And Peter hated how every time he was inside of you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Jaime’s cock was buried deep in your ass, how you willingly bent over or spread open for him, how you kneeled on the floor and most likely whined and begged for his cum as you jerked him off, emptying your thoughts of what was left of Peter for him.

For Jaime.

Peter was losing you—losing to Jaime of all people—more and more with every passing day.

But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Jaime…” You whined, drawing out the last vowel of his name as you stretched forward to loosen the tense muscles knotting along your lower back. A groan escaped when the pad of your fingers grazed your toes, and you immediately snapped back when a cramp began to settle in. “Can we take a break? I swear, I’m starting to go blind.” 

You and Jaime have been sitting on the floor, circled around your coffee table in the living room as you both worked on finishing the essays, as well as the accompanying presentation.

“Uh-oh, seems like we gotta take desperate measures then. Who else would hype me up if you go blind?” He joked, then stretched his arms upwards until a loud crackle drew a satisfying groan from him. “Dinner?”

“Uh…” You looked around for your phone, spotting it on the couch you were leaning back against, and clicked the device open to reply to Peter’s messages. “Peter said he was getting pizza for us after class. Should be on his way now.”

[Petey 🕷️]: All pepperoni ok? [M/N]: yeaaaap, can you get pineapple on one side too [Petey 🕷️]: Oh god, I forgot that you’re a pineapple person [M/N]: IT’S GOOD TO ME! 🍍🍍🍍 [Petey 🕷️]: You could dip it in a can of pineapple juice and there would be no difference

[M/N]: shut up, i’m the one paying for it

“Huh, really?” Jaime was surprised, straightening his posture as he took a nonchalant peek at your phone. For a moment there, Peter’s kindness took ahold of Jaime’s pessimism by the reins and pressed a non-existent brake. “That’s… nice of him.” 

Frankly, it was your suggestion to Peter, which surprisingly didn’t take much convincing since it was his favorite pizza joint. All he really needed was a kiss to seal the deal.

Jaime’s gaze flickered between the sprint of your thumbs and your growing smile. Blue and grey colored message bubbles appeared one after another, and the snickers that fostered briefly colored him red. Rather than finding the sound of your voice annoying, it was the person nourishing the joyful noises out of you that ticked him off.

Since middle school, he had always been at the top of his class. Whether it was because he truly enjoyed the subjects in school, or because he wanted to be the hero that pulled his family out of poverty—failing wasn’t an option. 

Then came Peter Parker. He’d been in four of his courses since sophomore year, but it was Film Studies that truly roused a flame within him. Maybe because it was a smaller class as opposed to a seminar like the rest of his classes with him. 

Or maybe because it was his first class with you, absolutely head over heels for Peter.

Peter, who would come into class late because he overslept. Peter, who would fall asleep during a viewing of a film instead of analyzing the mise-en-scene. Peter, who would be awaken by their professor and somehow manage to conjure an answer that would satisfy her—or worse, impress her. Peter, who didn’t have to work hard as him because he was… Peter Parker.

Peter Parker, who was the sole captor of your bright smile that Jaime had preferred over a hot cup of coffee when mornings were tough; the motivation for you to come out of your shell because Peter didn’t want you to be a loner like him; the person you would rely on because you trusted his opinion; the reason Jaime could find the courage to get a word in when he approached you because Peter was always by your side.

Peter, who Jaime could never be.

“Hey,” Your ear twitched as a gentle draft blew into the canal, and you immediately turned to face Jaime, ticklish in your endeavor. “I’m here too.” His lips pressed onto yours, sweet and fulfilling despite there being a bitterness in his tone.

“Sorry…” You murmured, tossing your phone to the side as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close and relishing in the softness of his lips.

Jaime let his muscles go limp, immediately toppling over your body once you pulled him close, and your bodies clumsily collided onto the rug with a small thump, a fit of laughter breaking the kiss apart in midst.

He positioned himself on his side after rolling off of you, cushioning your body with one of his arms beneath your back in turn. “Why is your rug comfier than my bed?”

You shrugged, sprightly raising your brows. “Doesn’t stop us from making out on it.” Your hand rested on his cheek briefly before swiveling it over to the front of his hair, brushing it back in one stoke, and settling on the back of his head to pull him face-to-face, nose-to-nose. 

The dark curls of Jaime’s hair fell forward over his forehead in delicate and thick clumps, and you sniffed a familiar waft of spearmint that was pleasant to your senses. “Do that again. Feels nice.”

“Yeah?” You chuckled because Jaime’s voice lowered to a calming whisper, feeling his lips brush ever so slightly over yours—feathery and light like a brush—as you repeated your strokes. Your nails scraped lightly over his scalp, enough pressure to close his eyes and coerce a satisfied sigh out of him, and then another into your mouth when he kissed you as delicately as your touch again.

Every swipe of Jaime’s lips—of his tongue—muted the sounds around you, phased you out of reality, and lulled you out of the migraine you’ve been enduring for pulling an all-nighter. The last sound you recalled hearing was Jaime’s zipper, an enchanting pitch that needed no verbal cue for you to sneak your hand down his pants. The eye-rolling massage at the base of his head was abandoned, but it was immediately compensated when you rubbed and cupped at his clothed bulge.

For a moment, Jaime perfectly fit in your palm, letting your fingers do most of the work without much wrist movement as they pressed and squeezed at the soft lump. As you continued, you gradually felt the lump expand into a meaty mass that had you practically drooling into his mouth because you remember the taste and smell of his thick cock.

And defeated, because you recollected the uncomfortable stretch he’d summon when he was inside of you.

“Fuck.” Jaime hissed when your thumb pressed the smooth fabric of his briefs to the plump glans of his uncut cock, forcing the fabric to swivel his foreskin over the head in tantalizing circles—until thick drips of pre-cum stuck and stained a spot of the white briefs into a deeper shade of grey. “I could come just like this, you know?”

“Would be a waste of cum, though.” You simpered, looking pleased with the effect you had on him. Your hand began stroking the thick shape of his cock, pushing his tuck upwards until the tip poked out from under the waistband, greeting you with a delectable coat of pre-cum when you peeked downwards.

Jaime exhaled a shaky breath, pulling his shirt off. “Knowing you, you’d probably suck it right off the fabric, wouldn’t you?” The starry haze in your eyes; the constant licks of your lips; the harder grasps at his cock to pursue more dribbles of his pre-cum; he recognized the symptoms of your lewd vehemence straight off-the-bat, promptly rolling onto his back and kicking his pants off. 

“Fuck, yeah.” You were famished, absolutely starving from the way you attacked his lips and sloppily explored his mouth with your tongue after straddling on top of him. You pressed onto his bulge, pushing against the center of his briefs with deep ruts until the head of his cock was exposed. Your mouth swallowed every profanity that would slip out of Jaime’s throat, fueling your hunger and channeling it into harder grinds.

He briefly put you on time-out to sit up and help you undress, one article of clothing at a time, beginning with your shirt. Jaime latched his mouth onto the first surface of skin he laid his eyes on. As you lifted your shirt, exposing more of your body, his lips trailed behind the hem soon after. He licked upward in one long strike, then dragged his tongue over the center of your chest, murmuring as you held his head close.

“Have I ever told you how much I loved your body?” It was a sweet confession, some would reckon that it was wholesome, and that was more of a reason why it made your cock throb in strong pulses, begging for your sweatpants to release them for oxygen. He chuckled, one hand squeezing you at your bulge. “Guess I haven’t enough.”

First, he tongued at your nipples, flicking the wet muscle on one nub before moving onto the next as he held you by the waist with one hand, balancing your straddle on his lap, and massaging the print in your pants with the other. Your cheeks ignited into flames when you caught his gaze; half-lidded and drowsy as if the sound of your moans was his lullaby. Then, he gently bit when he figured you’ve been hypnotized by the languid swivel of his tongue for far too long, disrupting the chain of moans into staggers. “Jaime, fuck—“

“Try tugging on them with your teeth.” Your brows furrowed, wrinkles creasing in the middle of the two arches, as you were puzzled by a sudden voice that sounded distinctly different from Jaime’s.

When you met his gaze again, his expression mirrored yours, frowning because your lips never moved when the voice came up. “What did you—“

There was a silhouette that loomed near the open kitchen that pulled your gaze from Jaime and towards the shape of a familiar body instead. Jaime’s gaze quickly followed yours after witnessing your pupils dilate.

Peter was leaning back on the kitchen island, watching with one hand down his pants and a smile that rendered you speechless and frozen in place. “When did you—I-I didn’t even hear you come in—“

“Few minutes ago. Good thing I didn’t miss the miss the show. It was getting good.” 

Before you and Jaime could begin scrambling for your clothes, Peter was already on his way towards the two of you, halting in front. You scanned him from head to toe for any anomalies, a break you’d expect to see if someone was caught almost fucking on their living room floor. What you got instead was a familiar gaze that you’ve accustomed to your own intimacy with Peter, then he lightly tapped his foot against Jaime’s lower back.

“Not the ideal situation I’d like to… meet you again in, but… I will say that I like it a lot better than what I had originally imagined.”

“Seriously? What do you—“ Jaime met Peter’s eyes, an awkward yet heavy tension in the air forming, but once his gaze fell to the center of Peter’s crotch being palmed by his hand, he felt a lightbulb go off. “Ah.” He scoffed, a gale of chuckles following after because of the absurdity of the situation—to cover up the guilt that he found it hot at the same time.

That he actually found Peter attractive.

“Peter, I don’t think this is—“ You reasoned, but Peter deprived your speech when he began stripping off his own clothes. What the fuck is happening…?! 

“(M/N) likes it when you tug on his nipples with your teeth.” He ignored you, nonchalantly repeating to Jaime. Though, it was hard to ignore the dumb-stricken look on your face when he approached closer to you, your confused gaze following his every movement. To appease you, he gave your chin a gentle cup, fondly stroking the center with his thumb as he shared a look that you could only deem as trusting from him.

You only began to relax when Jaime forged his suggestion into reality when he brought his mouth back up to your nipples and gently tugged at the nubs with his teeth. Every pull yanked a moan out of you, but you couldn’t help but feel entirely exposed and ashamed, knowing that Peter was watching you with another man.

It was allowed. Jaime and Peter have known about each other as flings for quite some time now, so it wasn’t like you were cheating, but… why did it feel wrong?

Once Peter stripped himself down to his boxers, he approached your side again for support, a large tent begging for you to release it from the loose restriction of the pattered fabric. Jaime’s gaze curiously followed Peter, watching his every move as he suckled, bit, and pulled at your nipples. He repeated despite the fact that they were swollen in between his lips, gratified that they were becoming perkier with every torment he’d inflict upon them.

Despite the fact that you had given into Jaime’s touch, into Peter’s demands, you looked up at him with concern, a daunting guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders, and he recognized that look with sympathy, assuring you with a calming smile and a soft kiss for good measure.

“Be a good boy for me, and stroke my cock.” Peter murmured lowly, stroking your cheek with doting knuckles, and you felt pacified right then and there. “And when you’re stroking my cock, you’re going to stop being selfish, treat Jaime like the respectable guest he is, and suck him off—got it?”

It was rare for Peter to be verbal like that. It wasn’t him, he claimed once, explaining that it was awkward because it sounded like he was in a cheesy porno.However, even if it was terribly and overly used in those pornos; a porno was a porno, and Peter was turning you on more than ever right now.

You inhaled, absolutely enraptured by what you were demanded to do that you forgot to breathe for a brief moment—but Peter kissed you again as a reminder, and you nodded. “Got it.”

You could feel Jaime throbbing under your clothed ass, his bulge prodding at the center of the fabric in desperate beats, as if he was agreeing to Peter’s ultimatum. Guess the dirty talk got to you too, huh?

As you climbed off of Jaime’s lap, Peter tossed a couple of throw pillows to him for his lower back and his head. Then, he did the honors of pulling your sweatpants off. A collective sigh of relief was heard as Peter and Jaime realized you went commando when your cock sprang free, throbbing and begging solely on the basis of Jaime’s mouth and Peter’s voice.

You knelt on the floor and bent forward, pushing your ass back while you slowly tugged Jaime’s briefs off to reveal his thick, uncut cock, seeping in its own pre-cum. “Pete, look how wet he is.” You slurred on your own drool as Peter knelt by Jaime’s hip, rubbing at his own cock.

“Geez, no wonder you were such an ass. Probably kept ruining your pants—“ Peter amused himself, taking one glance at the flushed expression on Jaime’s face, and chuckled.

“No, that’s not— we’re going to talk about my problem with you later.” Jaime stammered, but then halted when a sigh huffed past the dry of his throat as you took his stiff dick in your hand and stroked, squeezing until his foreskin covered the swollen glans completely and let the pre-cum pool within the folds, and then pulled the skin back and spread the thick coating back over the head again, somehow thicker with every cycle.

“Fuck…” Peter watched in awe, continuing to palm at his erection until the restriction of the garment had become unbearable to sit in. He slipped his boxers off and tossed it to the corner, then positioned his hips to sneak his cock into the palm of your free hand.

There was an expecting look on his face when you glanced over; a brow raised and a nod to his cock that seemingly reminded you of his demands. Balancing on his knees, Peter’s thighs pulsed, his taller height putting more weight on his muscles and making it look all the more sculpted as if he’d selfishly stolen limbs from Michelangelo’s workroom. Even though you’d seen Peter naked more times than you could count, you found yourself staring marvelously at his body. You never noticed how with every stroke of your hand, he sucked in his stomach, to pace his breathing, and his abdominal muscles would naturally divide into sharp, defined lines.

Somehow even more so, when he began thrusting into your fist.

As Peter helped you with one of your tasks, Jaime naturally found himself spreading his legs apart when you began lowering your head. You’d never admit it because out of context it sounded incredibly comical, but you loved cock. If you had to utilize the formal language of your essays, you’d say that you treasured it. It was one of the many reasons why Peter and Jaime loved having you around; why you found yourself on your knees after they returned from a long day of classes; why you’d gotten better at taking them down your throat because it’d become a daily practice, a hobby you’d reckon.  

Because you knew how to appreciate a cock when you saw one, how to make love to one, and you would do anything to make your men feel at ease, even if it was at the cost of your own abandoned pleasure.

“So fucking big…” Your left hand continued to pump Peter’s cock while you shoved your face in between Jaime’s thighs, nuzzling and feeling the warmth of his balls loose over your nose. You inhaled his musk, repeating the deep whiffs of Jaime’s ball sweat, before taking his heavy sack into your mouth and suckling. Occasionally, you’d abandon his scrotum to lick at the underside of his cock as it laid thick and hard—pleading to be tended to—over his pelvis. 

“Shit—fuck, I love it when you play with my balls like that...” You tugged on the stretchy skin with pressed lips to the base of the sack before taking him in again and rolling the spheres over the surface of your tongue like two gumdrops. You watched Jaime writhe as you tongued him, his stomach flattening and then puffing abruptly because he was precisely sensitive over the right side of his scrotum.

Jaime’s weak attempt at controlling himself from spilling a load right then and there was an example of how twitchy and overly-stimulated he could be if you found—played with—the right spot. Thankfully, he found the grace of God to hold it in and reminded himself to breathe; slow and methodical as he watched you with arousing awe.

He switched his gaze over to Peter hazing over you, and smirked. The hard gulps Peter would take, the stiffen of his jaw, the nostrils of his nose flaring up. He was blatantly jealous, scorched by the sun type of jealous, and Jaime got off on that, found himself growing impossibly harder knowing he was victorious in this moment.

Jaime was always good at reading people’s expressions. Even if they had tried to conceal it with a smile, their eyes told a different story. With your mind solely focused on pleasuring Jaime, your hand had gone limp despite still being wrapped around Peter’s own length. 

“Just like that, fuck, baby.” Jaime reached down to affectionately pet at your head, a physical encouragement that stroked a delighted noise out of you, and you’d repeat until his hand gradually fell to the nape of your neck. By the desperate pulses of his hand, his palm slightly angling upwards to push your head forward; you’ve been with him long enough to recognize that he needed his cock sucked.

“Wait,” Peter abruptly spoke up, confident and authoritative, as you let Jaime’s balls go and bent forward an inch more, beginning to hover your mouth over Jaime’s cock. 

You and Jaime curiously looked over. Your mouth parted open to ask him what was wrong, but Peter seized the opportunity to brush past your breath and invade your mouth with his cock, the abrupt aid of his hand surprising you as it leveled your head lower to meet his pelvis. “Just a little warm-up.”

“Peter—“ The gasp of his name was shoved down your throat, immediately coming back up as gargling instead since Peter offered you little time to prepare yourself. You heard Peter let out a strong exhale, his body melting into a limp once again when your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, then the first few inches of his erection the more he pushed your head down. You braced your hands against Jaime’s strong thighs, squeezing harder and harder when it became a struggle to take Peter’s thick cock.

Jaime would’ve called the pain at his thighs unpleasant; your dull nails digging painfully into his bronze flesh followed by a scratch; but all of that was forgiven because of the scene before him and how incredibly hard it made him. Like a scene found in one of his browser’s bookmarks, you were choking on a cock that was too big for you; on a cock that you pathetically had to warm up for before beginning to throat it deeper; on a cock that would be considered a miracle to shove it down your throat in the first place. For a brief second, Jaime had second thoughts on whether you’ve sucked anyone else’s dick but his own. 

Peter offered you little patience, only pulling you back up to take a small breather because you begged him through an incoherent whine that could’ve easily been mistaken for a moan. After a few seconds, you were back downing on Peter’s cock as if you weren’t struggling to take him moments prior. It played out exactly like the plot of his favorite porn scene.

The feigned innocence, the porn star dick, the teary bottom; Jaime’s cock was dripping, envious of the sloppy and warm lathering that Peter was enduring, that Jaime was so close to experiencing again before Peter took it all away from him—because he was fucking jealous.

Jaime’s mouth fell open the exact moment Peter’s did when you pushed your head lower than you did previously, then lower, and it seemingly never stopped until your swollen lips flushed to the furry hairs of Peter’s pubes. “Holy shit, (M/N)…”

“Has he ever deep-throated you before? He’s getting better at it.” It was so nonchalant, Peter’s tone, as if he got to experience your glorious throat every single day. If Jaime digged deeper, he heard a cockiness to it as well.

Something possessed Jaime—a rapturing feeling that made his chest feel funny, his cheeks stain with red, his cock throb with fervor. That feeling again; jealousy.

“Yeah? Give me a try then, (M/N)?” Jaime wet his lips when a large dribble of drool rolled down the corner of your stretched mouth. He met eyes with you when you glanced, beckoning you with a wave of his thick cock then slapping it multiple times onto his palm. The loud smacks were like a spell, and he knew he succeeded when you pulled Peter’s cock out with a delicious slurp.

“Actually,” Peter’s grasp on your head hardened, turning it back to face his cock when his fingers swiped your chin, and shoved his cock back into your mouth, quickly before you could rouse a sympathy for Jaime. “Seems like he’s pretty occupied with something at the moment.” 

“Seriously—“ Jaime watched with one brow raised, irritation written all over his face while stroking his cock to keep himself hard. Thankfully, you saved him from completely going flaccid as you replaced Jaime’s hand with your own, stroking him as you bobbed and sucked on Peter’s cock.

It only lasted a couple of minutes before Jaime got up, still clearly displeased, and for a minute, you’d thought he would’ve walked out right then and there, until he began standing next to Peter instead. You pulled away from Peter’s cock to take another breather, sitting flat on your bottom and then welcoming Jaime with a couple of strokes while your other hand worked at Peter’s cock at the same rhythm and pace.

“Since you’re getting so good, why don’t we introduce something new then?”

“What’s that? Am I sucking two dicks at once or something?” You joked, too distracted wiping the drool off your mouth with your forearm to notice Peter and Jaime exchanging a look that surprisingly wasn’t of malice. It was as if they hit jackpot. Their eyes brightened at the suggestion and the smallest creak of their smiles signaled a sinister connection that puzzled you.

They loved sexually tormenting you.

“Wait. Guys, I was just kidding—“

“If anyone could do it, it would be you.” Peter flashed you a grin, knocking on your lips with the tip of his cock as if it was an entrance to the warmest cock-furnace in town. “Come on.”

“Yeah. You always told me to try out my options first before deciding whether it wasn’t for me. Shouldn’t you follow your own advice?” Jaime hummed, Peter agreeing after, then joined Peter in his mischievous endeavors. He traced the outline of your lips with his cock, smearing your plump flesh with his pre-cum. 

You were apprehensive, looking up at them as they straighten their posture in anticipation. Their cocks stood heavy and intimidating, weighing heavily on your lips, and you were sure if you opened up your mouth in this moment, they would certainly take the opportunity to push past your complaints and fuck your throat again.

“Make me a deal, then.” The salt of Jaime’s cock compelled you to speak, offering him the tiniest licks because you felt bad for abandoning his cock earlier. With your tongue offering him little resonance, Jaime rolled his shoulders back to get some kind of fixture, as frustrating as it was.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, greedily pressing the head of his own cock to Jaime’s so he was spared a few licks of your tongue. It was almost distracting—how the plump tips of Jaime’s and Peter’s cock connected together in thick, web-like strands. You felt yourself give in for a moment, taking both of their cocks into your hands—one in each respective grasp—and mouthed the swollen glans while speaking.

“No more fighting for the rest of the night. And if we’re ever doing this again,” You realized you had the power to control them all along, the power to make them succumb to your demands because without your mouth, who else would they go to? “You guys are going to make amends and be friends. Deal?”

“Deal.” They collectively agreed in unison, a quite comical interaction that you were confident they were going to reel back on their promise once you squeezed a load or two out of them; their minds would be cleared and their decisions wouldn’t be drawn by the simple promise of sex.

“Fuck,” You couldn’t help but compare their cocks as your hands stroked them down in your spit, coating them in a glossy sheen that caught the light above. It was glorious seeing their cocks in this position, with Peter and Jaime towering over you, their cocks sticky and wet from your spit. “Wish you could see what I’m witnessing right now.” 

You were envious that they only had one subject in their center of vision. You had to constantly alternate between Jaime and Peter to make sure one wasn’t feeling neglected. If you presumed they did, you’d recompense through a cycle of sucking their cocks, playing with their balls, slapping their dicks on your face, tongue included, until your cheeks were covered in your own spit.

Whatever they wanted, you’d do it for them because you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing your boys were unhappy.

Peter’s dick was a spitting image of one of those famous male porn stars that you recalled obsessing over; a strong curve to the length with the girth thickening towards the head; it was always a struggle to fit him inside of you. If you had to be modest, you’d call it a handsome cock as natural veins pumped throughout his cock, making it evidently clear where all the blood was rushing to; a natural eye-widener, and a throat closer, for everyone.

Peter liked making sure your face was free of any anomalies. Whether the number of obscurities were the bad lighting in the room, casting shadows in place that masked your mouth, to the locks of hair covering the tiniest bit of your face; you were a wonderful performer that needed to be seen, and Peter was here to ensure that, especially with a guest in the room. 

His eyes casted over you while you went down his cock under the control of his palms. He liked having you follow his rhythm, follow the pace of his urges. If he wanted for you to focus your tongue on the head of his cock, then he’d pull you back at his own time and make sure to pull his hips back whenever you needed a fix of something more. If he wanted you to deep-throat him until you couldn’t breathe, he’d make sure you were on your very last grasp of life before you turned blue.

The sound of your saliva building and welling up in the back of your throat was a beautiful noise to him, one he could hear in his sleep and happily have wet dreams of. You sucked on his cock, slobbered over the weight of it through several coughing fits and chokes, and you made sure to look up at Peter with tears in your eyes, seeking for some kind of approval. He breathed out slow, seemingly controlling himself from spilling all over you right then and there, and found that if he didn’t stop himself now, then you’d never get to Jaime. When he told you to open your mouth and pant with your tongue out like a fucking animal, a wide and dark smile spread across his face. It wouldn’t be absolute control if he didn’t succeed in humiliating you.

“Good boy,” Peter bent over to slap you hard on the ass, a loud echoing smack resonating in the room. You winched, but nonetheless smiled up at him because Peter approved of your skills. “Now, make me proud.” He sent you off with a kiss, roughly patting the side of your cheek where his cock once bulged through, and did you the favor of shoving your mouth down on Jaime’s cock with no warning.

For Jaime, it was as if his own uncut cock couldn’t handle the weight and mass of his meat, making it naturally curve downwards that made it less difficult for you to slide him down your throat. What he lacked in length, he massively over-compensated in thickness and girth. A prominent vein ran down the center, and it made your heart skip a few stones or two when you realized the thick blood vessel was the reason why he built up a delectable amount of pre-cum.

The definition of control was interpreted differently between the two men. Where Peter forced you to suck his cock and move at his own pace, Jaime preferred constraining your head in between his palms and force you to take his cock, like you were some kind of blow-up doll. With a slightly bent posture to properly fit himself into your mouth, Jaime hooked one thumb at the corner of your mouth and stretched it open to accommodate his girth, and fucked into your warm mouth. Your knees felt bruised, burning in agony as you took every one of Jaime’s heavy and selfish fucks with absolutely no complaints. You clenched your eyes tight when he hit a little too hard at the back of your throat, then again, and again, because he loved how you sounded when his cock dented into you. He also loved how you couldn’t contain yourself and let an endless amount of saliva waterfall from your tongue and mouth, making it all the easier to slide down your throat.

“Fuck yeah, dude…” Peter was in awe. You felt one of his fingers toy with the pucker of your hole after he took a scoop of your saliva and spread it over the length. In circular motions, Peter was teasing in his endeavors, chuckling to himself as he felt you clench at the tiniest appeasement. “Think he likes how you’re fucking his mouth.”

“Yeah? There’s room for two, you know.” It was the most they’ve exchanged conversations since the last time they saw each other in class; although this time, it was a much more pleasant interaction. Jaime pressed his cock to the right side of your mouth, and you whined, giving his thigh a slap because it was a strange and uncomfortable sleeping. He pacified you with a couple of head rubs, then briefly taking his cock out for you to recover your breath.

“Let’s move to the bed, my knees hurt…” You grumbled while simultaneously catching up on your breath. You didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer as you already made your way into your bedroom with footsteps following you from behind.

It only took a few seconds for the three of you to work out your positions; Peter and Jaime laid flat on the bed, with each men taking the opposite end, similar to a bridge. Their legs tangled, thighs sat atop of one another, Peter’s feet at Jaime’s head and vice versa, and ballsacks pressed with the cocks facing towards the respective owner. You were the interconnecting piece, the final key in completing the puzzle, as you sat by the side of their hips. You had Peter on your left and Jaime on your right, jerking them off with your respective hand.

“Comfy?” You asked both of them, nonchalant in tone as you briefly went down to lick at the precum dribbling down Jaime’s cock, then to Peter’s as you caught the strong pulses of his length at the corner of your eye.

“Very much…” Jaime sighed, mirroring Peter’s position and cushioning his head with his arm. Contrary to how they’ve been treating you and your mouth, their gaze had softened as they’d been watching you. Peter had his warm palm running continuously down your spine, while Jaime’s arm traversed around you to take his time in teasing your hole with a finger, slow and sweet like the taunting delicacy of your tongue.

“So fucking big…” You marveled when you pressed their stiff cocks together and stroked out a groan from either one of them. The lights of your eyes dilated into sparkles because you could barely wrap your hand around them with this one grasp, and out of curiosity, you squeezed to impossibly squish them together, effectively earning a needy rut of their hips from Peter, then Jaime, and your throat caught a profanity because it was the hottest thing ever.

Stiff veins pressed into one another and Jaime’s precum made it too slippery for you to properly hold him and Peter without one of them slipping out of your hand. You were growing impatient, and you could see it in their eyes that they were too. Jaime’s was pleading for some kind of warmth, while Peter’s was almost threatening, as if he was about to pass out any second. 

After a couple more taunting strokes, you gave in and appeased them. You lowered yourself, smelling the sweat and musk that both the men heavily extruded through the slurry of pure sex, and shoved both of their cocks into your mouth. At least, you attempted to.

“Oh, fuck—“ Jaime’s eyes widened, then tightly closed because he was overwhelmed.

“Shit…” Peter muttered under his breath, the words leaving his mouth open because he’d only seen this in porn scenes.

It disappointed you, you couldn’t possibly fit them inside of your mouth except for the heads. If only you had a bigger mouth, or maybe knew how to disjoint your jaw muscles to somehow fit them both completely in—but you didn’t. Despite the limitations, you settled on fitting the heads of their cocks and suckling. As your tongue ran over Peter’s bulbous head, then Jaime’s thick glans, you made sure you were stroking what you couldn’t find in your mouth. Instead of lamenting over the loss of a stretch, you marveled at the way it felt when you wrapped your mouth around the glans, then at the way their dicks rubbed against one another desperately, imperfect in rhythms because Peter and Jaime were selfish in their own pursuit of your mouth. 

“So fucking hot, god…” Your internal thoughts came out in a moan, slapping their cocks on your tongue as you stared longingly at each one of them, wanting this very scene to seep into their mind and allow you to be the defining example of a cock whore. 

You then pulled away to dribble bubbles of spit over their needy cocks, lubing them each until you proceeded to struggle to fit them inside of your mouth, only barely being able to push your lips past their heads. You knew they liked watching you struggle, watching you do your best to pleasure them, and it was mutual benefit because you liked having the attention all on you.

“Need to fuck you…” Jaime demands almost came out as a whine, and you found it absolutely adorable considering his meat was weighting heavily on your tongue.

“Fuck, baby, me too… I need to fuck your hole.” There was frustration pent up in Peter’s voice, and he took it out on the grasp he had on your ass, kneading your left cheek until you could mentally picture a handprint on your skin. You winched, pushing out to relieve some of the sting, but Jaime’s hand abruptly smacking down on your right cheek rutted you back.

“Only if you guys promise to dump your loads in me.” You moaned, feeling someone’s finger climbing into your hole again and pump inside of you. Then another, spreading and curling the two joined digits. And another, three now, pumping at a slower rhythm, because your tightening walls were restricting their movements. Peter’s gaze darkened, because he swore you were clenching on purpose to taunt him.

“As if there was any other option on the table?” Peter questioned, rising to sit on his knees, and Jaime would later join. 

“His hole’s made to be filled with cum.” Jaime added with a smoldering expression, flipping you onto your stomach, then provided proof of his comments by spreading your ass cheeks out until you felt completely vulnerable and exposed. You resisted with a few clenches, but Jaime’s grasp on your ass cheeks was forceful stronger; there was a gratification that helmed his palms as he showed off your pucker to Peter. You felt something wet flatten against your opening, rearing you with inquisitive licks and prods like it was searching for something inside of you, “Tastes good.” Opening you further like its intention was to make your body writhe in toe-curling and ass-pushing exaltation. Your back arched into the mattress and you spread your knees further apart, gyrating your hips into the thick, musky air because the slightest draft made your cock harden and tremble with a whimper.

“Fuck, look how tight he is too…” You moaned when Peter curiously slid two lubed fingers into you despite being well acquainted with the tight cavity once Jaime pivoted to licking at your taint, then the base of your balls. The opening of your legs provided enough space for Jaime to sneak his head in between them and take your cock into his mouth to suck you off, holding you steady at the base.

“J-Jaime, fuck—Peter!“ His mouth was warm, strangely comforting, and whimper inducing. You felt yourself sink onto your knees and lie pliantly as you let him take you, as you let Peter invade you with two more fingers; a total of four digits pumping inside of you now; though you made sure to lift your hips up to leave enough room for the man who’s been slobbering all over your erection. 

If only you had eyes at the back of your head so you could witness Peter and Jaime touching themselves, so you could watch Peter’s mouth gape open when he slid his large lubed cock into as if he hadn’t done that countless times prior, so you could see how Jaime’s free-hand guided Peter’s hips to push further into you because they both were well-aware how accommodating your hole can be. It was a struggle to even fit the head of his cock into you, like you’d expected, but you were thankful for Jaime as he gave Peter the push he needed.

“Oh, fuck,” You strained, gathering yourself onto your forearms to toughen out the discomfort—practically planking—as Peter breached himself into you moaning at the tightness, then began moving his hips.

Slow and steady, you felt more of Peter residing into you with every thrust, rocking your own hips to thrust into Jaime’s mouth. It was a messy, interlocking of sweaty bodies, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better. Jaime’s tongued swirled around you, inhaling and working you with a greedy tongue. When he pulled off with an audible pop, you felt his saliva dripping off of the span of your cock in heavy webs, that were then used to lather up his own cock before rolling off the bed to stand before you. He tipped your head back, making you look up at him flushed and intoxicated from Peter’s quickening thrusts, and pushed his cock back inside your warm mouth in one smooth slide.

You didn’t know where to dispose your moans now that your mouth was filled. Once Peter efficiently picked up his pace, he steadied his balance with a firm grip on your hips; the left lag was braced on its knee while his right leg was heeled on the mattress, fucking his cock into you deeper with his new position.”Fuck, I could watch you take my cock all day.”

Your cheeks were hot as your moans ballooned nowhere but around Jaime’s cock. Whimpers and joyful noises vibrated around him as you sucked his cock off, and you’d occasionally lose your balance when you tried to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth, but you caught yourself before you could fall flat onto your face. You didn’t want to waste a single second of not both of your holes filled.

“Fuck yeah, keep fucking him like that.” Jaime exhaled, reaching out to fist-bump Peter as there was a mutual indulgence the two provided for each other. His body was slick with sweat when you noticed droplets of heat running down his muscles. He pumped out a few puffs of breath when he fucked into your mouth quick and desperate, enveloping and pressing your head to his abdomen to keep you steady, to keep his cock from falling out of your mouth because you had a habit of pushing him out whenever he pushed past your limits. Your field of vision was basically hidden as you stared into nothing but Jaime’s trimmed pubic hairs, your passive mouth sore and hurting, and your cock was equally sore—dripping on its own accord now—because you found it so incredibly alluring to be used thoughtlessly like this; Peter selfishly driving himself into you, panting because he was close, and Jaime pushing back into your gags with eager ruts of his hips, a tolerance that you knew would have you sore tomorrow morning, but a fucking comfort to know that you pleasured the two men with your own body.

“Switch.” Peter and Jaime exchanged positions once they knocked out a low high-five. It was on your own terms to flip yourself onto your back in the meantime, hanging your head off the foot of the bed for Peter to mouth-fuck you while you bent your legs up to your chest in anticipation of Jaime. Peter cooed, petting your spit-wet cheeks before leveling himself to meet his cock to your lips, then pushing your mouth open. It was adorable to see how you knew your place without a single spoken demand. “Mm, fuck—Jaime kept you warm and nice for me.”

“Can say the same for you, Pete.” At nearly the same time, Jaime supported himself by using the back of your thighs as leverage, squeezing a glorious amount of lube over his cock before pushing into you. Within the first slide, you were reminded of how thick he was from the way you were too distracted to suck Peter off and let your mouth agape, croaking out a discomforting moan. “Fuck, he’s warm.” He didn’t waste to time in letting you adjust to his size, because—well—Peter did the work for you, and began burying himself deep and close to that certain spot that never failed to send tremors down to the bone of your body.

Jaime snapped his hips with precision, the loud claps of sweating skin snipping at each other being one audible evidence of his experience with you. Your thighs and ass rippled sharply, then your muscles stretched as he pushed forward to fold your knees to your chest and slot his cock into you with momentum, gravitational force pounding him down into you like ocean waves crashing onto shore. Every time his impact moved you an inch off the bed, he brought you back with a tug at your thighs because he needed to be close to you. He needed to watch you gag on Peter’s cock, your throat struggling to close around his girth when it was sheathed deep enough for Peter to bulge through. When it occurred, Jaime showered delicate kisses to the center of your throat, moaning when he could feel the span of Peter moving inside of you, and then feel your throat constrict when he pulled out in a slow slide to draw out your breath for a little longer, to watch you desperately inhale for fresh air.

“Do that again.” Jaime couldn’t resist his temptations, caressing your chest and stomach because it had been flexing the entire time Peter and him had been fucking into you. The darkest desires compelled him to roam his hand towards your neck and wrap it around while Peter buried himself down your compliant throat again, and he squeezed his hand around you, your eyes clenched following the added pressure, while your throat locked around Peter’s juicy cock. Your gags lodged, bubbly in agony because they had nowhere to escape, until Peter pulled himself out what felt like minutes away of seeing the stars, and you immediately spilled into desperate intakes of breath, panting yet moaning because you had never felt such an intense adrenaline rush in your entire life.

Dragging his balls across your face, Peter loved seeing you sexually tormented like this. Red in the face as the blood rushed to your head, delirious on the sole entity of cock, winded through staggered pants as he had you gagging down his cock as if he had a lifetime warranty on your throat. It was beautiful; your words slurred because you were too exhausted to form coherent sentences and he’d use that as leverage, asking you to repeat yourself knowing that he’d deprived you of oxygen. Almost always, despite the promise that he’d let you catch your breath, all of that is thrown in the gutter when Peter sheathed his cock back down your throat like a man who had been cut off of your services cold-turkey, returning back with a vengeance, and as a man who had become a fiend for pleasure.

Jaime and Peter cheered like frat boys you’d see in porn, laughed because you looked so adorable when you asked for a small break; your cheeks were guttered with tears and your voice scattered into puzzled cracks. It was hard to resist coddling you with praises and affectionate kisses, even had they turn up their demeanors to an eleven. You would always be someone they treasured.

“You did fucking great, (M/N), god…” Peter was awe-stricken, rewarding you with a kiss on the lips to breathe life back into you, briefly holding your head up so he could unfurl the clouds until they dissipated for the time being.

“Mmf…” You thought you were a lot stronger than this, but your muscled had turned into jelly. Jaime slowed his thrusts down when he noticed how limb you’ve gotten and he figured stroking your cock again would do wonders for your peace of mind. “Need…” You muttered something under your breath, and for a moment, the two men paused because they thought you’d had enough and wanted to stop.

“Hm?” Jaime did his best to control his hips, panting. Judging by the death grip on your hips, it was obvious he was nearing his climax.

“Need you two…” You groaned out, replacing Jaime’s hand with yours as you switched your gaze between Peter and Jaime, collectively begging for them with the yearning gaze in your eyes. “Need you two in my ass, fuck…”

“God, you know how to make a man happy.” Peter laughed, breathing a sigh of relief, and you swore his cock had grown bigger at the simple thought of sheathing himself inside of you again. “Up, up.” You lifted yourself with the help of Jaime’s embrace when Peter positioned himself under you, and then Jaime lifted your legs up and hooked them over his shoulders, angling your ass out just right after pulling out.

Jaime did most of the work as he was the only one kneeling, whistling an impressive note when your gaping hole was exposed to him, and for his viewing only. “If only you could see this, Peter.” He prepped you and Peter with a generous amount of lube, then himself, chuckling as he stroked himself to the expanded opening of your hole. “We stretched him out real good.”

“Fuck, won’t be too difficult to fit us in then.” It was a rhetorical question that you knew the answer to, and you could feel Peter mischievously smiling into the back of your neck as if he told the funniest joke in the history of mankind.

Peter’s arms traversed around you, his palms reaching to hold your ass open while Jaime intruded into you first. The lube made his entrance a lot easier than the first time and you immediately welcomed his meaty cock with a tight suction, holding his thrusts as you felt the bulbous tip of Peter’s cock prodding around for a gateway into you.

It was a slow and methodical approach. For them, it was more important for you to feel comfortable instead of potentially letting the consequences of rushing everything ruin your experience.You felt flustered, overwhelmed, and your body followed in pursuit as you felt a stretch you’d never dealt with before. The hairs on your body stiffened. Heat spread throughout your body in hot splotches and left your cock limp and flaccid, spidering from beneath layers of skin until goosebumps raised from the sweat when you felt Peter trying get inside of you.

“Peter—oh, fuck—“ Your voice caught in your throat as you tried to open up for him despite the buzzing pain. You were pacified, and then encouraged by the deft of Jaime and Peter’s comforting hands. A pair of Jaime’s calloused hands ran over your legs, then thighs, then stomach, all over your body, to get you to relax your muscles. Another pair massaged your thighs, Peter’s; he whispered sweet and calming encouragements in your ear, dousing the strain of your neck in tiniest kisses while he attempted another push to fit himself in.

“Let me in, come on… We’ll take care of you.” Peter never lied. You trusted him. You trusted him to not hold it against you if you couldn’t. If you decided to stop because it was too painful. You let out a few nervous breaths, your stomach flexing, and then came Jaime, rallying your will with wet yet delicate kisses, just the way you liked it, as a way to distract you. Little by little, you felt yourself give in, your muscles slacking the more they touched you everywhere, including your cock again. Your body was burning with heat not because of apprehension, but because they couldn’t take their hands off of you. You felt deified, like a god as Peter clamped his lips around your neck, his strong hands kneading at your ass, while Jaime moaned into your mouth, electrified by the sweet taste of your wet tongue.

You breathed.

You met Jaime’s gaze, then turned to kiss Peter on the lips after meeting his, moaning as Jaime began thumbing the head of your cock.

You trusted them.

Your mouth alternated from Peter’s to Jaime’s in a heavy and tense session. Greedy tongues reaching for whatever was laid before them, and you were sure Jaime and Peter briefly made out because they were so fucking lost in the heat of it all. Their passion and lust had poured a newfound energy into you within a cycle of heavy kisses. Tongues worshiped your body from the neck and shoulders down, and you felt weightless.

And you let Peter in.

Slowly, your hole stretched to accommodate the incoming cock, and you let out the most heart-swelling and cock-hardening groan when you felt the fattest part of Peter’s glans breached you, then a yelp when the entire cock-head slipped  inside of you abruptly.

“There we go, shh…” Peter’s hand ran down your arms, a sincere attempt to stabilize and calm the trembles in your body. His lips remained attached to the shell of your ear, whispering words that had gone from one ear, scrambling letters into gibberish in the process, and then out the other. “Slowly…” Peter said, more so to remind Jaime, and he nodded with assurance.

They gave you a second to recover while you held tight to Jaime’s shoulders. Sweat trickled down your chest, your spine, framed your forehead in droplets, as you rode the wave of pain. After subsiding the gut-wrenching pain with a few deep breathes, you gave them a nod, giving them the pass to continue.

“Fuck,” Jaime wished you didn’t press your face into his neck as you were sandwiched between the two of them. There was nothing more attractive than watching you suffer, as morbid as it sounded. He thought you looked beautifully broken, sounded beautiful too as you whimpered when either one of them moved their hips. With slow and methodical ruts, they gradually felt you relax with the occasional jerks. Peter’s cock slipped deeper into you when Jaime thrusted out, and gradually, they found a rhythm that worked for your comfort, opening you, stretching you out as their cocks rubbed stiffly against one another. “Feels so good—“

“You’re amazing, baby.” Peter assured you, a motivation for you to loosen your muscles again. He held your ass apart to ease their combative motions in, and once you let go through the careful and spoken truths that Jaime and Peter kept praising you with, the fear that you had latched onto and kept vaulted in the rigid of your body seemingly had been let go—thrust by thrust, you felt yourself opening up and things got much easier for you.

You panted, shoving yourself down and back so you were fully impaled on the cocks fucking you, confronting your fear and winning for Jaime and Peter. You have two cocks inside of you, taking two cocks whole, fucking your tight hole and spreading you open. You reminded yourself because it felt like a dream, whimpering when Jaime began going balls deep with every thrust, and Peter would follow in pursuit, holding your weight up and your ass open. 

Finally, you felt your cock harden again; the span of it springing into a familiar mass, taunting Jaime to move faster as your cock throbbed when he came down onto you, then a few dribbles of precum leaked when Peter came up. They let out a moan when they met in sync, occasionally fucking you with their cocks as one big mass, their voice rattled with rapture because you were taking them in so well, so inviting despite your ability to clench and hold around them. You don’t, because you were fucking free, wiggling your hips without a thought, without a single rhythm in debt to your ass, and the only beat you follow was the sound of your heart as it began to accelerate.

You can hear it soar, decibels rushing loud and alarming in your ears as they fucked and fucked more into you. Cocks rubbed as one, then Peter would purposely delay because he loved burying himself into you as a single unit, grounding your hips to him because you were his first, and you heard shards of spirit break into a gazillion pieces, a barrier that had protected your sanity.

All of that had exploded, fireworked itself into shooting stars when Peter doesn’t waste a second to pound up into you, his breath fogging the back of your neck, then your shoulder when he hooked over his chin to kiss you again, swallowing your whimpers to turn them into his own delectable moans.

Forget holding your legs back, Peter abandoned them and you were on your own, your limbs relying on your own core strength as you struggled to hold them up, while his cock drive madly into you, Jaime’s chasing after in equal, heavy ruts.

“I’m gonna cum—fuck.” You huffed, closing your eyes because you were so close. You felt yourself getting closer relying on the thought that you hadn’t even touched your cock because you were so distracted, so well-fucked that you didn’t need to be touched.

Like that, just like that, keep fucking me like that. And just like that, you cried out and your cock throbbed once, signaling a fountain of cum that would then shoot out of you like lava seconds after, and your pucker would clamp around their cocks moving inside of you, pounding into you. Thick ropes of cum landed over your chest, then on your face when the impact of their thrusts was forceful enough to give it some height, and your hole throbbed around their joined cocks because you relieved yourself with a throat-cutting shudder, goosebumps returning back to form from head to toe.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Jaime repeated himself, fucking into you harder, deeper, faster. You felt his heavy pants on your chest when he leaned down to taste your cum, and then witnessed his eyes roll back when the taste was heavenly, a creamy merit that made the ache in his back worth it because you tasted so fucking good. You looked so fucking good, exhausted and melted, taking two cocks in you at once without a single complaint.

“Fuck.”

Jaime’s hands gripped your hips harder, and he let out a deep groan, burying his thick cock deep into you as he came. The weight of Jaime’s strong pulses drew multiple moans out of Peter, bursts of pleasure inflicting on the latter as he fucked into the hot flood of cum, fucking you sloppily with his cum-lathered cock, fucking alongside Jaime’s sensitive and swollen glans, vaulting it from leaking out of you.

It wouldn’t be long until Peter was triggered to let loose as well and spare you of his own thick loads with a raspy groan. He snapped his hips upwards once when he came, then delivered another hard snap to push out multiple strong and thick loads, and then another for good measure, because he was obsessed with how it felt to have his cock drowning in the creamy and warm mixture of his cum and Jaime’s. Your pucker throbbed, both of them completely breached inside of you to the hilt of their cocks, and your ass felt so fucking full—so fucking raw—knowing that you were double-stuffed with endless streams of their cum loads.

“Guys…” Your voice trembled, your muscles giving out as your legs dropped from fatigue, but they wouldn’t stop moving their cocks in you, sloshing their thick cum inside of you. Once your legs dropped, you felt a river of cum dribbling out of you, cold in its journey out of your ass, and you shivered despite being sandwiched by two warm bodies. “Mmf, tired…” 

One by one, they slipped out of you. Peter first, whimpering because he rubbed his sensitive cock against Jaime’s during its removal, making him twitch and shudder. Then Jaime, unwilling at first because you were so warm, but nonetheless unsheathed himself out because he was curious.

You didn’t know what they were doing, nor did you care, because exhaustion had caught up to you, reminding you that you barely had slept the night before, and now the physical strain on your body only added more to the overwhelming drive it could barely handle. You rolled flat on your stomach, nose-dived into the pillows, and then whined because a pair of hands wouldn’t stop kneading at your ass, spreading them wide open for your hole to expose itself.

And when you looked back over your shoulder, Jaime and Peter had their phones out, snapping photos of your violated hole; gaping and raw, and breached as cum was spilling out of it like a leak. It was the fucking hottest thing for them, mouth-watering, and when you scoffed and scanned their sweaty bodies, you swore their dicks twitched.

“You fucking rockstar.” Peter laughed, love-tapping your asscheek before joining you by your side. His hand never left your ass, a strong urge to relieve the pain, if you still had any, with comforting rubs and squeezes.

“Didn’t hurt you too much?” Jaime asked, smoothening his palm along your spine.

You silently shook your head, murmuring. “It was a good bonding exercise, don’t you think?” They laughed, and for a brief moment, Peter and Jaime exchanged a cordial look towards each other, approving the other with a firm nod.

“To new beginnings.”

Jaime joined you from behind, feeling an arm traverse from under your stomach, and pulled you closer until you were on your side and he was spooning you. You could hear both of their heartbeats running at full pace, then slowing as they sank their heads into the pillows, their breathing becoming shallow as they were just beginning to recover from their exertions. Gradually, Peter’s hand stopped rubbing your ass and after you looked back to see if Jaime was asleep, so was Peter, drifting off with a warmth that you wished would stick by you for eternity.

“To new beginnings...”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[struwberrii]

haikyuu!! at an american high school ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

here are my silly headcanons on how i think the karasuno first years would act if they were american high school students teehee

pt.2 pt.3

ヽ(^◇^*)/

hinata

probably runs to lunch

one of those dorky try hards in gym

wears matching neon nike shorts and tops

literally cries if he ever gets in trouble in class

water bottle flips randomly (he never lands it)

his mom drops him off at school every morning

jumps to touch the top of every doorframe

everyone judges him and thinks hes weird but hes gen the sweetest guy if you ever talk to him

he has a phone he just cant bring it to school guys

offers to do stuff first when the teacher asks (like brings attendance to the office or asks other teachers for dry erase markers)

middle school humor (hes kinda funny sometimes tho lol)

kageyama

lets you copy his homework because he knows its all wrong (or gives you wrong answers on purpose)

wears hoodies everyday even during summer

scared to put lip balm on in public because someone once asked if he was gay because of how he applied it

friends with hinata but is kind of embarrassed of him

girls actually like him but dont talk to him because hes so quiet

probably talks to girls from different schools

plays roblox with the others when they have breaks during practice (he hasnt updated his avatar since 2016)

still reads strictly picture books

also a try hard in gym

still does streaks on snapchat

tsukishima

refuses to acknowledge hinata and kageyama outside of volleyball club (he thinks theyre embarrassing)

constantly gets in trouble for having airbuds in or being on his phone

tries putting girls onto his niche music taste then its just cigarettes after sex

if you arent one of his friends or a pretty person hes probably gonna be rlly mean to you im sorry

has hot topic pins on his bag (yamaguchi forces him to shop there with him and tsuki always ends up walking out with a new pin)

dresses very basic but still nice

bros a bully

tries to correct teachers and make the teacher look dumb

if he can tell he actually hurt your feelings he'll say it was just a joke and gaslight you

him and yamaguchi just talk shit all lunch and study period

walks to like mcdonalds for lunch sometimes

yamaguchi

bully on the DL

the only reason people know hes mean is because tsuki is his best friend

always has fruit for lunch

probably in band and plays literally the biggest instrument in the world

he always smells weirdly minty

has the silliest stickers on everything, his notebooks, laptop, headphones

bought sonny angels for him and tsuki

everyone thinks hes gay

him and yachi are art class buddies

brings his switch to school sometimes

rides his bike to school

lowkey stuck in his 2020 indie phase

yachi

has the cutest stationary

takes all her notes on her ipad and has that paper texture screen protector

ali express warrior

shes the sweetest girl in school

probably a closeted lebanese

already has her drivers permit (probably gonna be the first person in her grade with a license)

packs her own lunches everyday in bento boxes

has a private instagram account with like 20 followers and declines everyone she doesnt know personally

always has lotion, gum, perfume, medicine, chargers, everything. she is not taking any chaces

shes like if the 2019 soft girl pinterest aethetic became a person

reminds teachers about the homework

secretly watches youtube during class

she does NOT play about her art projects

her and yamaguchi trade stickers

probably still uses that 2019 kanken vsco bookbag

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

sorry guys half of this list is just me being an extreme hater and projecting

[navyhealthyglow]

appearence; "is she glowing?" - glow up guide no.2

Hey love, how are you doin?

Today we'll cover the next part of our glow up journey - our looks. So without further ado, let's begin!

I prepared a list of things you can do in order to boost your looks, and take care of yourself at the same time, so you can glow up<3

FACE:

⟶ don't pick your pimples!!! It's the worst thing you can do when dealing with acne/spots/blackheads etc. Instead go see a dermatologist. You can also use salicylic acid, azelaic acid or pimple patches ⟶ start double cleansing to remove all makeup and dirts from your face. Use an oil cleanser first, and a water based one afterwards. ⟶ use vitamin C to brighten your skin and give it this healthy glow ⟶ diet is also very important to keep your face clean and glowy. Make sure you're not eating too much sugar and processed foods that may cause inflammation. ⟶ use makeup according to your face shape and to enhance your features. ⟶ depuff your face using ice cubes, gua sha and face massages ⟶ When you sleep on our side, your face is pressed against the pillow causing acne and wrinkles, so sleep on your back or invest in a silk/satin pillowcase to reduce friction. ⟶ make sure you're using spf 50 daily

BODY:

⟶ move your body! Find an acitivy that you enjoy and move your body daily. You can go to the gym, find a class (like pilates or spinning maybe?) or just workout at home, stretch or go on walks. I personally love dancing and stretching, and I also try to walk at least 10k steps a day. ⟶ check up at the doctors regularly to make sure you're healthy ⟶ make sure you're sleeping enough, this is very important if you want to feel and look your best. Studies recommend at least 7 hours for and adult, and minimum 8 hours for teenagers ⟶ diet, im sorry but this is key to a healthy lifestyle and body. A healty, balanced diet with lots of fruit and vegetables and whole foods is essencial. Make sure to get enough protein and healthy fats in. I am not a medical professional, so if you have any special needs, allergies or you are in treatment consult any dietetary changes with your doctor or a certified dietetician. ⟶ use a nourishing body wash and after the shower use a lotion to moisturise your skin. And use deodorant after every shower. ⟶ exfoliate using a scrub or an exfoliating glove once/twice a week to keep your skin soft ⟶ you can take a pumice stone to soften the rough skin on your feet, and make sure to clean and cut your toenails. ⟶ find a signature scent, I recommend perfumes as they last longer but scented mists are also good. Bonus points if you have a lotion in the same smell to enhance the scent. ⟶ this is optional, but if you'd like to take your body care to the next level, everything showers are amazing! I do one about every two weeks on sundays. This is the time for you to take a cozy bath, exfoliate, wash your hair, maybe do a face mask? There is no right or wrong for an everything shower, just make yourself feel good and clean the way you like it<3

HAIR:

⟶ wash your hair 2-4x a week depending on your needs. Don't wash your hair daily as it can cause damaged hair and a dry, itchy scalp. If your hair gets greasy easily, try to at least wash it every other day. ⟶ use a hair mask once a week ⟶ I find that the best hair care is according to your hair porosity. You can check it with the glass of water test.  Simply take a clean, product-free strand of loose hair and put it in a glass of water. If the hair floats at the top then it is low porosity, if it sinks slowly or settles in the middle it is medium/normal porosity, and if it sinks straight to the bottom then it is high porosity. ⟶ every night before bed apply hair oil to your ends and put your hair in a protective hairstyle such as loose braid to keep it from damage while you sleep. ⟶ use rosemary or argan oil to grow and thicken your hair ⟶ trim split/damaged ends when needed ⟶ you can use a scalp scrubber to better clean all the dirt and scalp build up ⟶ avoid excessive heat and when you do, use heat protection

CLOTHES:

⟶ rather than buying every microtrend that exist, invest in quality pieces and create a capsule wardrobe. Keep in mind to adjust it to your own personal style, or if you don't have one you can look ideas up on pinterest. ⟶ wear accesories! Necklaces, bracelets, sunglasses etc can elevate your looks by 1000x! Find out whether gold or silver fits you the best, or maybe you find diamonds or pearls a better fit? ⟶ keep your clothes clean and neat, iron them when needed to avoid looking slumpy

ESSENTIALS:

⟶ brush your teeth 2x a day ⟶ brush and detangle your hair ⟶ use a lip balm to hydrate your lips ⟶ always keep a hand cream near to use when needed ⟶ get enough sleep ⟶ move your body and eat healthy ⟶ stay hydrated, drink at least 2l of water a day

That's everything for today sparkles, I hope you enjoyed this post and I am waiting for your comments on how your glow up journey is going<3

Find me here: 🤍💿

#navyhealthyglow - all my og content #navyhealthytips - glow up tips #navyhealthyjourney - my glow up journey

My other blogs: 📖💙

@navyisstudying - study blog

[nausikaaa]

2024 Roundup

hello! it's that hazy period between christmas and new years, so i didn't even know what day it was until i got tagged for SSS by @that-disabled-princess. i don't have anything to share presently, but Rose, @run-for-chamo-miles @forabeatofadrum and @confused-bi-queer also tagged me for a writing roundup, so here i am!

i wrote 8 fics in 2024, and as i looked through them i realised i wrote literally all of them for events or as gifts. i also worked a lot on an original wip, and started another! however this still leaves the months pretty spotty, so i decided to add in some other achievements hehe.

this is long, but i added photos!

January

i started writing a fantasy novel i have been rotating in my brain for literally years, featuring beloved OCs i've also had for years. it got to 7k words by the end of the month. however i was also attacked by a new novel idea.

books read: Percy Jackson- The Chalice Of The Gods by Rick Riordan, Atalanta by Jennifer Saint, All The Violet Tiaras by Jean Menzies.

February

this is the month where i really knuckled down and got to grinding on my greek myth retelling. i sat in a wetherspoons for an entire day, edited everything i had so far, and wrote until i finished part 2 of 7 (the parts aren't equal lengths) i ended up with 37k words.

books read: The House With The Golden Door by Elodie Harper, Emperor Of Rome by Mary Beard, American Hippo by Sarah Gailey.

March

no writing in March, but i did visit Whitby for my birthday and help with lambing. i also saw Natalie Haynes talk about her newest book in York.

books read: Dragged Up Proppa by Pip Fallow, Helen Of Troy by Bettany Hughes, The Amber Fury by Natalie Haynes, Divine Might by Natalie Haynes.

April

i wrote two fics for @carry-on-sapphic-week!

Spitfire- In the morning, someone will come to collect me, and I will have to leave Niamh, and Simon, Baz, Penelope, Shepard. The friends I have made, and the love I have forged. Back on dry land. How am I supposed to return to the life I had led before, how am I supposed to agree to some other arranged marriage, to another man I have never met, who cares nothing for me? How am I supposed to give up the pistol I have kept close for over a month and pick up my embroidery again? 1.9k words.

Rosebud Girl- I never thought it would be an art class that finished me off. I had hoped it would be a bit of stress relief, a creative outlet sorely needed between my real classes. It’s at a community centre on campus, a short walk from my morning law class. I should have just stuck to football, and said fuck creativity. We’ve moved on from fruit to figures, and the table in the centre of the room has been replaced by a model. A nude model. A nude Simone Snow, my first year roommate. 2.7k words.

books read: The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman, The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman, The Bullet That Missed by Richard Osman, The Last Devil To Die by Richard Osman, Great Goddesses by Nikita Gill.

May

my goat Juno had her kids, Olive and Jem, but decided she didn't like them very much, so i became their second mother, topping them up with milk. this was a sleepless, stressful month, so i didn't write very much.

books read: Caligula by Simon Turney, In The Shadow Of Vesuvius by Daisy Dunn.

June

my OC wip got to 14k words! and that's about it. i didn't even manage to go to pride this year. i mostly just continued to bottle feed the goats.

books read: Protest- Britain On The March by Mirrorpix Photo Archive, A History Of The Roman Empire In 21 Women by Emma Southon.

July

i wrote two fics for @carryon-disability-week!

comfortable coats, calico cats, and collapsible canes- Simon plans a spontaneous date, but Baz is worried his bad leg will put a damper on things. Luckily, Simon has come prepared. 2.4k words.

a fist amidst the hands- Simon can wield a sword, but not a pen. Baz thinks he's figured out why, and wants to help. Simon just wants to sleep. 2.5k words.

books read: A Short History Of The World According To Sheep by Sally Coulthard, Facing Down The Furies- Suicide, The Ancient Greeks, And Me by Edith Hall.

August

i wrote a fic as a friend's birthday present. i also visited Edinburgh for the fringe, saw the best production of Antigone in my life, and visited the art gallery while i was there.

A Day In Epirus- Pyrrhus is running late. Hermione has a way of distracting him, when today of all days she should really know better. Not that he can hold it against her, when he was so enthusiastic himself. But it’s Molossus’s fourth birthday, and he has a full itinerary to cross off. 2.3k words.

books read: Roman Mysteries- The Thieves Of Ostia by Caroline Lawrence, Roman Woman by Lindsay Allason Jones, From A Rock To A Hard Place- Memories Of The 1984/85 Miners' Strike by Beverley Trounce, Dynasty- The Rise And Fall Of The House Of Caesar by Tom Holland.

September

no writing except for chipping away at my original works. my trojan war retelling hit 60k words!

we also got a new puppy, her name is Suzie. she's mad as a box of frogs.

books read: We Solve Murders by Richard Osman, Percy Jackson- The Wrath Of The Triple Goddess by Rick Riordan.

October

again, just writing my original stuff. it was my nephew's first birthday though! not really my achievement, but still. we went pumpkin picking to celebrate.

i also saw Terry Deary and Edith Hall give talks at Durham Book Festival, and Terry Deary answered my question!

books read: A History Of Britain In Ten Enemies by Terry Deary, Alcestis by Katharine Beutner.

November

i wrote a sequel to my previous year's fic for @carryonthroughtheages! honestly, shoulder to shoulder is probably my favourite fic to have written, and this was a close second.

give them hope, give them strength, give them life- A look into Simon and Baz's life through the years. 7.9k words.

books read: Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie, The Sheep's Tale by John Lewis Stempel.

December

my OC wip stands at 15k words.

my trojan war retelling stands at 65k words!! my goal for the end of the year was 69k, because that sounds funnier and less daunting than 70k, but there are only two days left. let's see if i can manage it, 2k a day?

i got to see my friends for christmas, we met in Manchester. all of us simply making it through this year is the achievement i'm proudest of.

i also wrote a fic for a secret santa exchange in a classics discord server i'm in, it was a lot of fun!

sweet music playing in the dark- Penelope and Odysseus, throughout the years, together or apart. 3.8k words.

books read: Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan.

this has been so fun, it's nice to reflect! i tag @cutestkilla @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @larkral @orange-peony @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @shrekgogurt @comesitintheclover @raenestee @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @noblecorgi @shemakesmeforget @ileadacharmedlife @supercutedinosaurs @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @ninemagicks @otherworldsivelivedin @meanjeansjeans @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists @carryonmylovelies and anyone else who wants to do this! sorry if i hit anyone who has already done so.

[yuyu1024]

Those eyes

Pairings: Yeosang × y/n

Genre/tags: Friends, first time

Warning: 🔞🔞 fluff, smut, dry humping, mention of masturbation & porn, cursing, no sex [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.9k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Check pinned post for more stories✨️

****

Yeosang have missed a lot of your classes since he got into an accident. He got discharged from the hospital and now at home to recover. And as his best friend, you go and visit him everyday to give him the notes and assignments that your teachers asked you to give so he could at least catch up or be in tune with the whole class.

They don't want him to get behind since he is one of the top students in the whole school, not just your class.

"Oh! Y/n, happy friday." Yeosang's mom greets you as she opens the front door.

"Hello again, Mrs. Kang."

"Your just in time." She says as you enter their place. "I just finished helping him cleaning his wounds and make your afternoon snacks..."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kang..."

"Welcome..." she then shows you the tray of sandwiches and fruits for you and Yeosang. "I'll leave you two guys alone for a minute okay? I need to go and have a quick run to the groceries to buy more stocks for our pantry. And maybe go by the pharmacies too..." she then checks her phone for the list of things she needs to buy. "We ran out of bandages and the cream to put onto his scratches..."

"Oh, don't worry about us. I will look after him. We'll get busy studying anyways..."

"Thank you, Y/n...." she pats you on the shoulder, "also a heads up... he's a little cranky... I don't know what got into him... but I hope you make him feel better..."

"I'll do my best. I'll yank his ear if he gets on my nerves." You joke

"Maybe that's what he needs." Mrs. Kang laughs. "Text me if you need anything else from the groceries okay?"

You watch Yeosang's mother grab her bag, her keys and then check her phone one last time before she goes out of the door.

"Have a safe trip!" You say before closing the door.

After she left, you start to do your thing. Your sling bag is still hung across your body whilst you start to carry the tray of the food Mrs. Kang prepared for you and Yeosang.

"Knock, knock." You lightly kick the door with your feet and immidiately see Yeosang carefully climbing onto his bed to avoid his right injured arm

"You're early today." He says

"There is a school fair today so..." you place the tray on top of the beside his bed.

"Ah, the fair. How's our class' booth?"

You frown. "Why worry about that? You know our booth is always the highlight of the fair. Wedding booth is always hyped by everyone." Then you feed him a piece of muscat.

"I guess so..." he says as he chews. "Do we have a lot of assignment today?" He slighty sigh

"Hmm... not really." You jump onto the bed beside him and begin to open your bag and look for the notes.

"Y/n... your skirt!" He takes one of his pillows and place it on your lap. "You could've gone home and changed before coming here."

"Sorry!" You gape at him

"You should be careful when your wearing a skirt!" He looks irritated

"I know... but I'm with you so it's fine!" You throw the pillow back to the other side. "Why are you suddenly yelling at me?"

He sighs. "Nothing..." he massages his temples with his free hand which is covered with scratches. Which is a lot better than the right one which is in a cast and in a sling support.

"You are very snappy... what's wrong with you?"

He looks away from you and just sighed again. "I said nothing..."

"C'mon Yeosang... we've known each other for a long time now... I know something is bothering you. You're not the type to be like this unless something frustrates you."

"You will not understand it."

"Why not? Explain it to me then... is it the homeworks? The notes I've made for you? Or because you're not healing quicker than you want to?"

He went quiet for a bit before he finally decides to tell you the reason. "The latter..."

"The doctor said... you are doing better right? So just give it time."

"I know, I know... but it's not that..." he suddenly looks shy

"What is it then?"

"Promise me that you will not laugh at me."

You blink multiple times, confused. "Laugh? Ahm... okay... I won't. What is it? Get to the point."

He covers his face with his hand, closing his eyes even as he tells you. "I've been a little frustrated because... I can't ma$turbate."

"Huh?" You look confused and doubting if you really heart him say that he's annoyed that he can't jerk himself.

He looks at you, annoyed. "I'm right handed, y/n! I can't use my right hand." He points at his injured arm

"Ooh."

He lays his back on the pile of pillows behind him. "I've been horny and shit and I can't do anything about it." He puts his forearm over his face. "Laugh all you want now... I get it if you find me silly."

But you didn't laugh. You get his frustration. He is a guy after all. You are just stunned as you've never heard him talk about this stuff before.

"I'm not laughing..." you say to him, pulling his arm off his face. "Do you want me to help you?"

His eyes widens at your question. "What?"

"Help you... to release whatever you want to release..."

"Don't make jokes like that."

"Who said I'm joking?" You spat

"We are friends. Best of friends." Yeosang says

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so?' Are you thinking straight right now?" He gets up.

"I am..." you answer with a straight face. "I know you watch p0rn and shit... coz I do too... and pleasuring yourself helps to... get it out... you know... especially both of us are virgins. We do what we can do...you know..."

Now, he is the stunned one. He didn't know you are this open minded by this things. He didn't know you have your own needs like his.

"So... do you want my help or not? We can just continue doing homework if you like..."

Yeosang closes his eyes again, trying to think everything through. Because he cares about you and don't want this to cause any issue afterwards.

"If you don't want to... it's fine." You say as you start to get off the bed but then his hand suddenly stops you mid-way.

"What would you do? To... help me...?"

You smile at how cute his face is, innocently asking you.

"I don't know a lot too... since I've never tried the things I watched in real life... but..."

You slowly climb back up again. But this time not just on the bed but also on top of Yeosang. You sit on his lap, right above his thighs where you could feel his bulge slowly getting hard as he felt your covered core on it.

"We can't start... like this..." you begin to slowly move your hips creating friction between the two of you while making direct eye contact with him. "I might get wet from this..." you quietly say "I might stain your jogging pants."

"I don't care." His mouth is slightly open, breathing is slow but heavy and his eyes are fixated on you.

"Does this feel good?"

"Yes..."

"Do you want something else?"

Yeosang eyes lower his gaze.

"Do you want to touch my boobs?" You ask, smiling

He is breathing louder now as you pick up the pace of you, dry humping him. "Can I?"

"I would enjoy if you do..." you start to unbutton your white blouse uniform. "I have a this thing about... my boobs..." you explain. "I feel like... I like them being touched.. gives me pleasure..."

Slowly revealing you covered boobs and telling him you like him to touch it, made him even harder. You feel his bulge pulsate upon reveal.

He cups both of your boobs, squeezing them with amazement. "They're so pretty." He mumbles

"Ugh..." you moan as you feel your core get wet just from humping him over his pants. "Sorry..." you say as you check his soaked pants.

"Holy shit..." he hisses as he sees it. "Fuck."

"Sorry..." you repeat

"No... it's okay.... it's actually... so sexy..." Yeosang looks at you again. "Can you now... touch my.... my..."

Laying down beside him, blouse still open, "do you want me to give you a handjob?"

He nods with excitement.

"Okay... but let's cover ourselves with your blanket and play a movie on your laptop or something in your TV.."

"Why?"

"Silly you!" You tap your finger on the tip of his nose. "You're mother might get back and check up on us... just to be safe."

"Ah! I see. Yes."

And that's what you guys did. You turned on his TV and played some scary movie so his mom will not find it weird that you to are so close to each other under the blanket. His mom knows you are a bit of a scardy cat.

"You're so smart for thinking about this..." Yeosang says as you both get comfy laying down on his bed.

You put a pillow above you too to hug but also to hide whatever you are doing underneath "you're not the only smart person in our friendship you know..."

Your hand then pushes his jogger pants down a little, freeing the thick length he's been hiding in there.

"Holy fuck!" He hisses as he felt your hand grab him. "Holy fuck y/n" his mouth opens and releases a quiet moan as you begin to move your hands up and down. "This fucking feels... good."

"Your so thick..." you whisper to him. "I wonder if you would fit in me..."

"Fucking hell, Y/n!" He breathes, "don't say shit like that... coz I would.." he pauses as his breathing spikes up. He's getting in his zone. You are really giving him such pleasure.

"You would what?" You ask him

He opens his eyes again and looks at you straight into your eyes. "Coz I would not mind finding out what it feels to be in you...." he leans forward to you to give you a kiss. A long, sweet and lustful kiss.

This kiss is both your first kiss.

"I'm down..." you answer. "I don't mind getting lost into you..."

"Do you want to stay for the night here?" Yeosang asks, "I can ask my mother to call your parents."

"You are eager..." you smirk, "Not tonight...." you pick up your rythm again, making him throw his head back onto the pillow. "We can wait until you're fully recovered... for now... we can just...."

Yeosang starts to moan a little louder. He's so close to his peak.

"F-fuck! Ahhh...."

You watch him go mad under your hands. "Look at me... I want to see those eyes of yours...."

He is taking deep breathes, mouth open and looks at you. His eyes are sparkling. He is on the edge.

"Fuck!" He grunts and hurriedly grabs the tissues he had ready to catch his warm release. "Fucking hell, y/n..." he leans in for a kiss again which you are willing to accept after seeing him so happy and super satisfied. He's cheeks are even got pinkish "Promise me... once I fully recovered... we get to do this again... and..."

"I promise."

[nehswritesstuffs]

ghosts speak in whispers and lies; can’t know what’s real ‘til you’re the one who’s died - Part Three

Oh, yeah, so I should have mentioned this earlier, but please pronounce Angela here as the same as Angela Merkel, not Angela as in Angela Lansbury. Also, this is also the chapter where the sexy times start. Thank you.

Part One [FFN/AO3] - Part Two [FFN/AO3]

Robin has entered the dreamscape and is immediately put into a situation for which she is acutely under-prepared. [4684 words; Law/Robin]

It was the dead of night; muted stars speckled a sky brightened by light from the nearby towns and a damp chill hung in the air. Law and Robin laid on a blanket atop the grass, the remains of Oden Castle far enough away to be secluded, yet close enough to make it back if the need arose. They had yet to do much more than cuddle and kiss, but the night was young.

“How long do you think before we get a chance like this again?” Law asked. His head was nestled comfortably against Robin’s shoulder, their position much more relaxed and spread out than anything they could have achieved in his quarters on the Polar Tang. She scratched at his scalp—hat long-discarded—and hummed.

“Possibly never,” she said. “We are going to war, after all.”

“…but if we do make it out alive… will you come with me?”

“As much as I care about you, Torao,” she chuckled, “it’s Luffy I want to make the King of the Pirates. Once that happens, maybe then we can talk.”

“Then I’ll also search for it,” he decided. Law propped himself up on his elbows so he could gaze down at Robin. “We’re both curious about the People of the D., about the forbidden history, and out of everyone I’m the closest you’ve got to an academic equal.”

“You sell our crew’s doctor short.”

“Tony-ya’s a talented doctor—you got me there—but his foundations in traditional academia are… lacking, to be precise.” She raised an eyebrow and the embarrassment that ensued was intense. “He told me his background on the way to Dressrosa; a quack and a witch doctor might have worked for his specialization, but he never sat any broader subjects.”

A playful smirk twisted the corner of her mouth. “And you did?”

“Not only that, but I was top of my class,” he bragged. “All through my formal schooling, even. Those nuns were a rough group to please.”

“I see.” She reached up and gently flicked the end of his nose. “Just a pair of hopeless academics, coming home to one another at the end of the day?”

“Possibly.” He looked away, first at the grass, then the blanket, then his hands. “I feel like I’m towards the end of my career as a pirate. If I survive it, I want to put these hands and this Devil Fruit to good use helping people. I want to grow older than my father did.”

“How old was he?” She reached out and touched his hair again, stroking the soft strands tenderly.

“Forty-two, I think. That would have made my mother forty; what about yours?”

“I never knew my father, but my mother was about thirty-three if I remember correctly.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, not one of passion but of assurance. It lingered afterwards, their faces close enough to share breath. “Olvia.”

“Angela,” he whispered. “Lars.” A deep breath. “Lami.”

“Those are wonderful names,” she replied hoarsely. “Maybe they can mean something else one day.”

“Possibly.”

It hurt to think about, so instead of continuing he reached down and caressed her leg, most of it still bare thanks to her shorts—their disguises were coming in the morning. She made a receptive noise, letting him know he was on a correct path for the night’s activities; an acceptable change in subject matter.

“Out in the open like this?” she teased. “That’s naughty, even for you.”

“I don’t have protection on me, but I have the next best thing,” he claimed. He then slid his hand down the front of her shorts and found her core, where she was warm but dry, deciding to fix the latter.

“You don’t want to detach part of your penis so that you ejaculate in the grass?” she wondered. He sank a finger into her and flexed, pulling a sigh from her lips.

“I want you to think of me every time you touch yourself while we’re apart,” he murmured in her ear. “Imagine they’re my fingers, working you open bit by bit.” He slid another finger in while rubbing her clit with his thumb. “Don’t think about what we might never have, but what we know is decidedly real.” A third finger, a little too quickly, and her back arched. “Promise me, Robin.”

She promised; she promised to him and the trees and the stars to think of him, breath hitched as she resisted caving too quickly. He kissed her as she came, hungrily gulping down her gasps as though they would feed him for days on-end. The more he concentrated on her, the less he thought of his own ghosts, and that was all he needed of the night… well, not everything, but it was a start.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

All systems looked stable as Chopper made his final adjustments to the devices that were monitoring Robin and Torao. Once he was done, they weren’t going to need to be moved for a while, and only then in the interest of bedsore prevention. Bepo was in the room as well, watching closely as the younger doctor cared for his captain.

“I’m going to take good care of Torao,” Chopper assured. He frowned when Bepo didn’t respond. “Are you alright?”

“I still think I should have gone in there,” the Mink replied, “or Penguin, or Shachi. We’ve known him the longest.”

“Don’t worry,” Chopper said cheerily. “Robin was a master spy before she joined our crew. She’s actually the best qualified out of all of us, even if it was one of you who got caught.”

“…but you and Jean Bart said that these things make people hallucinate things they want. Are you sure they’ll be able to tell what’s the dream and what isn’t?”

“Of course they will,” Chopper smiled. “I have my full trust in Robin! If she made a promise to Luffy, then she has to come back!”

“Okay…” Bepo didn’t fully believe it, but what choice did he have? He placed his paw on his captain’s shoulder and sighed, hoping that everything was going to work out as they wanted.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Robin inhaled sharply as she was flung into the dreamscape, it trying to convince her that she was catching herself from nodding off at a desk. She carefully looked around the room and took in her surroundings—it was very clearly an academic’s office, one that commanded some air of authority based on the simple fact there was the space to move around. There were many books, framed accolades, and photos lining the walls, so much so that it felt like something she wanted to stop and examine in order to see what sort of a dream the parasite placed her in. A flick of her wrist and a hand sprouted up from a stack of books—at least that was still the same.

To her surprise, many of the photos along the walls and on bookshelves were of her and her mother, or with Professor Clover, or both. They grew older with her in this scenario, it seemed. Ohara sat with a younger version of her in a photograph all on its own, clearly taken from the deck of a ship based on the angle. The accolades and certificates were from a variety of sources across the Cardinal Blues and the Grand Line, showing a trail of her journeys. Worn tomes sat upon their shelves riddled with bookmarks and inserted pages, demonstrating clear use. Three very specific frames sat upon the cluttered desk, next to a brass nameplate emblazoned with her name written in both the common script and Poneglyphs: Dr. Nico Robin – Professor of Archaeology and Anthropology. She studied each one individually, finding the subjects intriguing.

One photo had her with her mother and Professor Clover on a beach, celebrating some occasion. It looked warm and pleasant. Was she a teenager there…? She must have been…

Another had her with the Straw Hats, the entire group smiling for the camera-snail, none of them with a care in the world. No hint as to why they were drawn together in this existence… simply that they were…

…yet the third… she picked it up and marveled at it, not entirely certain she liked what she saw: it was her and Trafalgar Law, and they were kissing in a public park, implying a more visible sort of relationship than they were accustomed to leading.

Robin thought about it for a time before setting the frame back down on the desk. Whatever this parasite was doing, it was definitely either incredibly skilled or had help somehow. It took some of her deepest desires involving an alternate life—a successful archaeology career and the adults who cared about her getting to watch her grow to adulthood—and seemingly made them into a reality. She felt sick to her stomach at the level of manipulation that was involved; the possibility she wanted to explore with Torao was in the middle of being explored—they were actively and openly dating in this scarily complex hallucination. Was that specific detail something that she had brought into the mix, or was that something that had already been there due to Law’s own desires?

Well… there was only one way to find out.

Robin grabbed what looked like her personal bag and coat and left the office, acting as though there was nothing amiss as she walked through the university building. She didn’t recognize any of the people who waved to her and referred to her as “Professor Nico” or “Doctor Nico”, which was something she somewhat suspected. It seemed like a large university, however, with plenty of funding being passed along towards the humanities and social sciences. The thought of such a place even possibly existing broke her heart, let alone the idea of her working there. It was as though the halls of Ohara were recreated in thick and sturdy stone, more resistant to fire and attacks from those who wished to destroy true knowledge.

Once she stepped outside Robin knew precisely where the university was: Flevance. Everything around her was whites and pastels, the Amber Lead having not been completely excised from the community but existing in a sort of stasis. She walked over to a tree and touched its off-white bark, curious about what was going on. The white and pale colors had been caused by Amber Lead if she remembered correctly, and not only was she there, making a life amongst the poisoned plants and buildings, but the people as well. Was this a version of Flevance that had found a cure? Did Amber Lead not have the same effects on the Human body as it did in the real world? Whatever the answer was, it was a cruel alternate reality for Torao to live through.

Then again, she knew exactly what that was like, didn’t she? How many times did she wish for something like this as a child with Ohara as the location in-question? She spent a long time wishing she could turn back time, as her foes in Onigashima predicted, and now… now she was at least at peace with the past. Had it been terrible? Uncomfortable? Devoid of true justice? Of course, but it still happened and nothing could change it. Did Flevance being the setting of the dream meant that Torao was still not accepting his past? In such an environment, how could she present the danger they were truly in, despite the calm nature of their surroundings?

“Oh, hey Robin!” She turned at the sound of her name, blinking curiously as a young woman jogged up to her. She seemed like she could have been a student at the university, but was she one of her students…? No, otherwise she would have been Professor or Doctor or Ms. or Miss.“Have you spoken to Law-nii yet today?”

“No, I haven’t,” Robin replied. The young woman looked largely unfamiliar, with exception of her amber eyes. She felt something tighten in her chest as she realized that those were the eyes she had gazed into many a time already; this was Law’s younger sister. “Is there something I should know about, Lami?”

“No; I was just wondering if you were going to do anything after dinner tonight other than sit around and visit with our parents,” the young woman pouted. “I was hoping we could go out and have some fun afterwards; conversations with my parents and brother always devolve into medical talk.”

“I thought the point of having dinner with someone’s family was to meet and get to know them.”

“Well, yeah, but they’re boring about it. They’re always boring about it.” Suddenly, the bell in the nearby clocktower started tolling ominously. “Shit, got to get to class—see you later!”

Robin bid Lami goodbye and watched as the young woman ran into the university. The entire situation seemed… odd, to say the least. There almost seemed to be a haze over most of the other citizens, as though their rendering had not been completed, yet Lami was clear as could be, along with a few seemingly-random folks she saw as she walked down the street. She wondered if this was simply the limit of the parasite’s powers or if it was merely the result of Law’s mind getting stretched too thin. What would Ohara look like, if she was the one who had been taken first? She shivered at the very thought.

Stepping inside of a bakery, Robin went through the bag that she took from the office, pretending to look for some money. Instead she found exactly what she was looking for: an ID that gave an address. ‘28C Rivierstraat.’ She then excused herself from the shop and went in search of this Rivierstraat, hoping it wasn’t too far. It wasn’t, and once there she found a leafy street that had a canal in the middle. She had to hand it to him—Torao was able to come up with some romantic scenery.

A few minutes longer and Robin finally came to the numberplate for 28C. She took the set of keys from her bag and tried the one that looked closest to the lock—it worked. A couple flights of stairs and she was at another door, which she was able to unlock with another key in the set. She stepped into the flat to discover that it was a gorgeous open loft space, with tons of books and plants and various bric-a-brac that showed that this was truly a home. Everything flowed seamlessly from one area of the flat to the other, with sagging bookshelves serving as walls and plenty of light pouring in from the windows and skylights. The second-hand furniture was mismatched yet comfortable-looking and the kitchen seemed well-used. There was even a door to a small patio next to the kitchen, just enough room to have a table for two to eat dinner under the stars or breakfast watching the sun rise.

The flat seemed so well-suited to their needs that Robin had one question that she kept coming back to: had she invented this space or had he? Little things here and there suggested that he was at the very least a frequent visitor: comic books, commemorative coins, some clothes here and there… more photo frames sat around the space, of him, of her, of them. Yet when she looked at the details, they were very her. It was comfortable and academic… it was a space she could have imagined living in.

Robin picked a hooded sweatshirt up from the couch and sniffed it cautiously. It smelled like Torao, though with a hint of perfume that she knew meant she’d been the last to wear it. A thought flashed in her mind, of wearing the sweatshirt during a particularly bad cold snap as she and Torao shared the space, sometimes snuggled on the couch with their own books, with other times at the table for tea as their combined work was spread out between them. False memories began to fill her brain with study dates and nights out on the town; of romantic trips to the park as well as lurid sex in the small sanctuary the flat provided. She had to concentrate to keep the thoughts and fake memories from their attempt to overtake her consciousness—it was bad enough that Torao was under the parasite’s influence, which meant that succumbing was not an option no matter how tempting. Hanging up her coat, she began to mentally catalog the false memories as they came to her, hoping that there would at least be something in them that would be of any use.

Suddenly, Robin heard the lock to the door downstairs get jostled—someone else was coming! She tested her Devil Fruit ability and found that her normal range was preserved within the dreamscape, so she very quickly conjured a pair of eyes on the wall outside so that she could see who it was.

Law.

Robin’s chest began to feel tight. Up until now, she had a firm grip on the conceit of the situation she found herself in. The goal was to navigate the dreamscape and save Torao, but what sort of grasp did it have on him? How well would she be able to communicate with him their situation? She had wanted a bit of time exploring the false Flevance first for context clues before approaching him and now it was too late as he was walking up the stairs.

Law opened the door and stepped into the flat, flinching in genuinely delighted surprise when he saw Robin. His face lit up at the sight of her and it made her heart ache and stomach flip. There was something about him standing there that almost felt right even though she knew the horrid truth behind the dreamscape. He held up a bouquet of flowers—large and fragrant white lilies with hare’s ear filling it out—and smiled awkwardly.

“I didn’t think you’d be in yet,” he admitted. There was something… off… about the way he was holding himself as they met each other in the entry to the flat. His demeanor and body language… they were very different from the variations of the guarded man she was falling in love with, and she needed to figure out why. Was it because they were alone or something else? “These were supposed to be waiting for you.”

“That is very sweet, thank you.” Robin took the bouquet and leaned into a kiss before bringing the flowers into the kitchen. She had to play the established girlfriend until the opportunity to convince Torao otherwise presented itself. If not done at the right time, the job was going to be leagues more difficult than it already was and that was something neither of them could afford. “I saw Lami after I got out of work.”

“She’s been hanging around the Humanities departments again?”

“She must be if she ran into me outside my building.” She found a ceramic vase under the sink and filled it with water, working on snipping the ends of the stems in the meantime. Once a dash of both bleach and an open bottle of cola from the refrigerator had been poured into the vase, she transplanted the simple bouquet to its new home before using her Devil Fruit to sprout a spare hand to pluck off the pollen-filled anthers. “Let me guess: mention nothing about it?”

“I know our parents want us to be happy, but I know they still think that Lami’s just not found the right area of medicine yet that interests her,” he said. He took off his jacket and deposited it on the couch, completely ignoring the coat rack. “It’s hard to see the writing on the wall when you’ve been planning her entire life, especially for Moer.”

“They mean well. She means well.”

“Yeah, though maybe they’ll be distracted enough tonight from meeting you that Lami and I can drop a couple more solid hints.” Law watched as Robin placed the vase on the dining room table amongst the varied medical and archaeological journals. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he hugged her from behind, leaning down slightly to kiss her neck. The feeling of his lips on her skin sent a shiver through her entire body—how was this still just a dream? “We have some time before we have to leave.”

“…and what do you suppose we should do with that time?” she wondered playfully. The more she could get out of him the better; she needed to figure out how to tell him about the parasite’s lies without driving him away. Turning around in his grasp, she found herself staring directly into his amber eyes and felt as though she was melting.

“I have some ideas.” His grin spoke volumes—she knew what he was hinting at. “What good is being a hopeless pair of academics if we don’t take advantage of our schedules now and then?”

“I’m the academic; you’re a surgeon.”

“True, though, you know what I mean.” He bent his head down and kissed her, his hands instead finding their way down to her rear. Robin held the kiss as she unbuttoned his shirt, chuckling as she slid her thigh between his legs and felt he was already hardening. Law quickly opened a Room and transported them to the bed, allowing the two of them to collapse on the soft, plush mattress in a handsy heap.

It felt amazing as Robin let Law touch her, practiced fingers moving just how she liked it, ghosting along her skin and making quick work of her blouse and skirt. She watched him as he paused to shuck off his shirt and alarm bells began to ring in her head—this wasn’t right. His chest and arms were untouched by ink, as were his hands, now that she really saw them. Gold still glinted in his earlobes, but the rest of him was so bare that it was wrong.

The life Law must have lived in this fantasy never had the need for the tattoos, she surmised, and therefore the hallucination found no reason to keep them. No pirate crest, no viruses, no DEATH across his knuckles to remind him of what was always nipping at his heels, and least of all, no heart across his chest in memory of the one who saved him. He literally carried his benefactor’s memory on his shoulders and now… nothing. While she did not need the tattoos to be there to find him attractive, their absence was more than conspicuous in the soft light filtering in through moving clouds and the trees outside the building.

That was what changed, she realized: how he held himself in the lack of carrying that invisible weight. It was not a lack of confidence or change in personality, but a shift in the things he carried with him. He was lighter now—freer—and the legacies he carried were different. The man undoing his belt buckle between her legs was not the last of a nation, nor had he ever tasted true revenge, but was the normal person he had always yearned to be… the one who found his Devil Fruit by chance and not through desperation.

“Are you alright, Robin…?” he asked, pausing in concern. He leaned down, resting his weight on his elbows so that he could look her in the eyes. “You’re not yourself…”

Trafalgar D. Water Law was not a man with a nation of ghosts haunting him, no more than Nico Robin was the only Oharan scholar left after her world was erased in flame and ash.

“Nervous about tonight, is all,” she lied, putting on a practiced smile. Oh, how many men had she tricked with it before? Dozens, and yet none of them hurt nearly half as much.

“You don’t have to worry,” he murmured. “My parents are going to love you… Lami already loves you… I just wish your mom could have been in town so she could come along as well.” He pushed himself up to be on his hands and knees, drinking in the sight of the wonderful woman splayed beneath him. “We’ve survived meeting each other’s friends—I think we can survive tonight.”

At that, he leaned back down and kissed her, infused with a sort of desire unlike anything he had done in real life. She shoved his now-loose pants from his hips to his knees and he pounced on her soon as he kicked them off, both now just in their underwear. There was no hesitation in his desire, no holding back due to a lifetime of pain, no worry as to the aching yearning that would fill the void when the alliance was finally dissolved. He was offering his entire self to her as he kissed and nipped and caressed and took care of the final barriers between their skin. He was hard and dripping as he fumbled around between the bed and the nook walls it was set into, not wanting to take his lips from her skin as he searched.

Finally Law pulled away from Robin and held up his prize with a grin: a battered condom box. He pulled one out and laid on his back as he lazily tossed the box towards their feet and unwrapped the condom. Once it had been rolled on, he gently pawed at Robin, silently begging for her to ride him. She complied, straddling his hips and guiding him in, the satisfying burn of his girth opening her up while not fully-prepped distracting from the absurdity of the situation. Closing her eyes, she kept pushing him further and further in until their bodies were flush against each other and he was completely enveloped. His hips bucked desperately against hers, though she held him in place as she adjusted to the feel of him, almost ready to burst.

Slowly, Robin set the pace, rocking gently to ease moans out of them both. She opened her eyes to look around, making sure there was nothing she was missing. There was no danger, nothing out of place; it was just a normal flat in a normal building in a normal—if romantic—neighborhood. Law’s imagination had given them the perfect hideaway…

…except, as she threw her head back at a thrust that was aimed rather well, Robin saw something she should not have amongst the varied plants lining the wall: a flower. It was pure-white and had many petals, the cactus branch it was hanging off being something she recognized as something that did not bloom for longer than a single night. The fact it was conspicuously in bloom in the afternoon was proof there was something very not-right and she kept her eyes on it as they rolled their hips together in what felt like well-practiced lovemaking. Desperate gulps for air and filthy moans were the only things that passed between their lips, filling the flat with lewd sounds that would have made either of their crews blush.

Entire body slick with sweat, Law sat up and wrapped in arms tightly around Robin’s torso as he trembled, his pleasure building low in his gut. She held him gently, keeping his face buried between her breasts as she conjured arms from his back to help hold him up against the mattress. Her own orgasm was creeping upon her, not yet there as he nearly shouted into her chest as his body went rigid. He waited until the aftershocks had passed before reaching between them and finding her clit, rubbing small circles until she lost control of her Devil Fruit as she teetered over the edge, washing over her with more force than she was going to admit. They collapsed on the bed, Law smiling hazily up at Robin as though she was the only person in the world that mattered.

“Welcome home.”

Maybe she should have taken Bepo’s offer after all.

[sodabrain10]

this is part 2 of my WoF dnd au, with another visualizer. the next part might take longer to make.

The Silkwing Citadel. Unlike the Hivewings and Leafwings, the Silkwing Citadel is less of a palace and more a center for the Silkwing community. The bottom of the structure is two silk-made towers open to any dragon, supported by bridges made of stretchy, more flexible silk. The top of the structure is a greenhouse split with another silk tower called The Spire, which houses the Silkwing royal family.

The Glass Market: This market is open to all Silkwings to buy and sell from each other. Anything and everything is sold here, but by far, the most commonly sold items are made of silk. Tapestries, clothing, silk jewelry, art pieces, custom statues, construction services, and so on. The stalls in the market change each day, so it is constantly packed with customers from sunrise to sunset. The market gets its name from the colored glass that hangs from the ceiling, suspended by thick threads of silk. Light pours through the windows to create patchwork rainbows that change throughout the day.

The Spinner Conservatory: This area of the Citadel is dedicated to teaching Silkwings how to use their silk. The main audience is dragonets after they've emerged from their cocoons, but dragons of all ages are encouraged to visit. There are dozens of classes, including web working, tapestry weaving, construction building, and many more. The teachers are mainly volunteers, but students are encouraged to donate food and trinkets for their work.

The Silkwing Hatchery: This public hatchery provides a safe, warm, and dry space for any Silkwing to hatch their eggs. The nests are first come, first serve, and are constantly guarded to ensure no egg goes missing.

The Chrysalis: An area in the Citadel dedicated to cocooning. Like the hatchery, this area is first come, first serve, with many branches and perches for dragonets to hang while they cocoon. This area is also heavily gaurded, with extra guards providing safe care for any flamesilks that may cocoon there.

The Western & Eastern Pavillion: Many dragons might think that Silkwings are limited to just silk as their construction material options, but this is not true. For instance, flamesilk (if accurately made) can be used to solder glass. This is how the glass ceiling for the Citadel's pavilions was made. Both contain colored, geometric glass, allowing sunlight to naturally filter through. The Western Pavilion is an open greenhouse filled with decorative and fruit-filled plants. Benches and paved paths line the pavilion for recreation activities. The Eastern Pavillion is much more open, with trees and flowering bushes lining the interior perimeter, while the center remains clear and open for parties, celebrations, and meetings with Leafwing diplomats.

The Spire: Finally, this is where the queen resides, accompanied by her immediate family. The Spire is redecorated whenever a new queen is crowned, usually adorned with fresh tapestries, rugs, and furniture. The current queen, Queen Alexandria, has The Spire beautifully decorated to match her appearance, filling its chambers with dark and malachite green tapestries and paintings, many of which reflect her image.

[megs-98]

Merry Midwinter

Didn't have any motivation on the other days of @lady-sapphyre 's Galemas prompts so here's days 4 - 7 lmaoo it is in fact gale smut

Tara nuzzled her face against the woman with a purr, “Now you know that’s not true, dear. And he is absolutely beside himself over your admission.” Mara grimaced when she heard Tara’s words. “I believe you both know it would be more beneficial for the two of you to be together rather than apart right now. Off you go, back to bed. In your actual bed.” She said as she headbutted Mara’s shoulder. Mara gave the tressym a pet before she got up. She caught a glimpse of Tara as she kneaded Mara’s pillow and laid down on top of her blanket.

A/N: liked stated above, this is galemas days 4-7 all wrapped up together, also my first gale smut in almost a year. i honestly forgot how much fun these are to write. also, i didn't skip day 3, i did a little sketch for it. it's on sky if you want to see

Pairing: Gale x f!named Tav/ Mara

Characters: Tara, mention of Morena Dekarios

Tags: mild hurt/comfort, explicit, MDNI, m and f oral receiving, kissing, vaginal fingering, make up sex, mating press, praise kink, nothing better than having sex all night and into christmas morning

Word count: 3.9k

Gale sat at his desk; he held his forehead in his hand as he stared absentmindedly at the scrolls on his desk. He had wanted to get a head start on preparing class lessons but the day had not been as fruitful as he had hoped. He and his bride-to-be, Mara, had an argument that morning after they realized they had been snowed in. Mara had been rather determined to make it out to the market; she wanted to find another Midwinter gift for each member of the Dekarios clan. Gale told her it wasn’t necessary, they had each other's company. They didn’t need things to make their Midwinter celebration special. 

~~

“I know material things aren’t what makes the holiday special, I just want to do something nice for everyone. I also thought we could take the time to check on Morena.” Mara said as she put on a sweater that Gale’s mother had gifted her. 

“Please, my love, do not use my mother as leverage against me.” Gale responded with a chuckle. 

However, when he turned around, he was met with a scowl from Mara, who promptly walked away without another word to the wizard. He had soon heard her rummage through the kitchen as she busied herself. He was confused as to why his words had upset her, but continued to get ready for the day. After he was dressed, he made his way to the kitchen. Mara stood in front of the sink as she washed dishes. Gale stood next to her as he tried to grab a dish from her, but she easily avoided his hands and put the dish in the drying rack. He furrowed his brow but assumed that she didn’t see him. He then leaned close and tried to give her a kiss on the cheek, just as he so often did, but Mara avoided his action again as she ducked her head away from him. 

He scoffed at her, “What have I done to so greatly offend you?” 

“Dunno, maybe you’ll think it’s ‘leverage against you’ or not.” Mara chided at him as she rolled her eyes. 

~~

Gale cringed as he thought of the rest of their argument. He always prided himself on being attentive to Mara’s.. everything. When her mood was off, if she didn’t feel well, how she acted when she was at her highest or lowest. He had cursed himself all day for not realizing the effect his words had had on his love. After Tara had scolded him for upsetting ‘Mrs. Dekarios’, Gale had decided to give her space for the day, to let her approach him in her own time. He had begun to think that this was also a bad idea though; Mara hadn’t approached him once the entire day and left them both in only Tara’s brief company throughout the day. 

He had finally been pulled out of his stupor when he heard thudding against the ground come from somewhere in the tower. He looked out his study windows to see that it had begun to snow again; and that it was now dark, the snow illuminated by the glow of the full moon. Gale sighed as he lifted himself away from his desk and started the trek down the stairs. He was met with Mara in the living room as she added more logs to the wood rack next to the fireplace before she poked and prodded at the fire to revive it. He watched as she settled herself on the couch and draped a blanket over herself in an attempt to warm up as she was only in an oversized sleep shirt. That was when Gale realized that Mara had one of her pillows from their shared bed on the couch with her. He came in the room and stood on the side of the couch Mara leant against. He hesitated before he placed a hand on her shoulder, relieved that she didn’t recoil from his touch. 

“Dearest, I know we have been at.. odds of sorts today, but I thought we could get some sleep together. It is Midwinter Eve, afterall.” Gale sighed. 

He watched as Mara shook her head and carded her fingers through her hair. She thought about her words carefully before she turned slightly and grabbed his hand in hers. 

“Sweetheart, I know you didn’t mean to be hurtful this morning. And I will admit, I should have told you that sooner, but every time I went into your study to tell you, all I could think of was our argument and I got angry all over again.” She squeezed his hand a little tighter as she finally made eye contact with him, “I love you very much Gale but I still need a little more time, you really hurt my feelings with the whole ‘leverage’ thing.” she lamented. 

Gale felt his heart break at her words. This was something he never wanted to make Mara feel, yet here he was; he had done exactly that. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, grovel at her feet, do anything and everything she asked to win her favor back. However, he conceded as he brought his hand to her cheek and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. 

“As you wish, my angel. Please remember that our door is open if you wish to come to bed later.” He offered. 

Mara pressed a kiss to his palm and thanked him, a somber smile formed on her lips.

The two laid in their isolation, hopeful that sleep would take them so they didn’t have to sit with their emotions. Sleep never came for either of them, though. Both tossed, turned, and wished the other were with them. Mara sat up on the couch to watch the fire as she tried to decide if she should go up to her and Gale’s bedroom or not. 

“He loves you, Mrs. Dekarios.” Tara’s words flitted into Mara’s ear from beside her. Mara jumped and turned her head to see the tressym perched on the back of the couch next to her. 

She sighed, “I know, Tara, and I don’t doubt it. I just didn’t think he would ever talk to me like that. It reminded me of everyone who’s ever talked down to me, like I was some bumbling idiot who was only good at killing things in the ‘name’ of Illmater.” There was a tremble in Mara’s voice. 

Tara nuzzled her face against the woman with a purr, “Now you know that’s not true, dear. And he is absolutely beside himself over your admission.” Mara grimaced when she heard Tara’s words. “I believe you both know it would be more beneficial for the two of you to be together rather than apart right now. Off you go, back to bed. In your actual bed.” She said as she headbutted Mara’s shoulder. Mara gave the tressym a pet before she got up. She caught a glimpse of Tara as she kneaded Mara’s pillow and laid down on top of her blanket. 

Mara slowly made her up the stairs as worry ran through her body. She was worried that Gale would be too upset with her to accept her apology. That the way she acted throughout the day would cause Gale to rethink their relationship. She was pulled out of her thoughts once she approached their door; it was opened slightly and she noticed a faint purple glow come from inside. She looked through the opening, only to see a bittersweet moment. She saw Gale sitting on her side of the bed, in just his sleep pants, with his hand outstretched in front of him, holding a projection of Mara’s visage. He stared at it longingly as if Mara weren’t in the same tower as him. She made her way into the room slowly in an attempt not to disturb him. Gale hadn’t noticed her as he continued to look at the projection he had conjured. 

As she moved closer to the bed, Mara cleared her throat and said his name quietly. Gale met Mara’s avoidant gaze with a reserved look, almost as if he thought his mind had played a trick on him. He stood up and walked over to her and grabbed Mara’s hand tentatively. Mara laced her fingers between his and she noticed as Gale let out a sigh of relief before he pulled her into a tight embrace. He buried his face in her neck and took in a long, deep breath as he focused on her smell; traces of oak and parchment, cedar, her lingering crisp and delicate floral perfume that she wore every day, all mixed together with her own natural pheromones. His body relaxed as he finally released his breath. Mara held on to him as if he were going to fall into the earth at any moment. 

“I’m so sorry, Gale.” bewailed Mara, her lips had started to quiver.

“Hush, now, my love. It is I who must apologize to you.” He had lifted his head, his gaze met her teary one. “I used a terrible joke at an inappropriate time and then left you alone all day because of my own anxieties and for that I am truly sorry. None of that is your fault and I only hope that you’ll let me make this up to you in any way.” He continued as he tucked a strand of hair behind her elongated ear. He felt the shiver that ran through her body when his dextrous fingers grazed the shell of her ear. 

Mara weakly smiled at him, “You don’t have to do anything to make it up to me. I should be the one making it up to you.” She reluctantly untangled herself from Gale’s arms and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bed. 

Gale didn’t resist as he followed her lead. “There is nothing that would make me happier than laying in bed with you in my arms.” 

They both climbed into their bed and laid together, Mara across Gale’s chest as he held her tight. They laid there like that for a while, unable to find sleep. He rubbed his hand down Mara’s back as he changed between firm, massage-like swipes and feather light touches over any exposed skin he could find. Gale relished in the breathy moans Mara let out when he caressed her, desperate for more after she was away from him the entire day. He wearily grabbed the hem of her shirt and moved it up her body. Mara understood what he was doing and sat up to easily take off her shirt.

Gale placed a hand on her waist, “Stay like that for a moment, please. I want to admire you.” He ran his thumb across her skin slowly as his eyes roved over her figure. Mara held his forearm as she felt his hand roam up her side, as he barely grazed the side of her breast. She sucked in a shallow breath, eager for more of his touch. She noticed as Gale smirked at her reaction and purposefully kept his hand on the larger expanses of her skin. Mara knew that Gale loved to tease her mercilessly, and on any other day she would have loved it too. Not this night, though, no. She wanted him too much to let that happen. 

Mara waited for Gale to bring his hand away from her body again before she grabbed his hand. She slotted her fingers between his and kissed his knuckles. The mischievous look on Gale’s face softened as he watched Mara do this. All he thought about was how lucky he was to have such a loving and caring woman by his side. Mara watched as Gale’s lusty gaze changed to dreamy one as he watched her. She leant down and placed a passionate kiss against his lips and happily swallowed his moans. As she continued to kiss him, his hand still in hers, she placed her free hand on his chest. She lightly pushed him down as she swung her leg over his body and settled herself on top of him, her lips still connected to his. The moment he felt her weight against him, on top of him, he let out a low moan that she felt in his chest. 

Mara moaned in response to Gale’s; she reveled in the effect she had over him. She finally pulled her lips away from his as she kissed along his jaw and down his neck. She continued her descent down his body slowly as she took the time to nip and suck on his skin as often as she could. Once she had freed her hand from Gale’s, she used that hand to palm Gale’s cock through his pants. He groaned at the friction and she felt as Gale’s hands left her sides and he tried to pick up his hips in an attempt to get his pants off. Mara took herself off of Gale and settled herself between his thighs. She watched as he took his pants off and kicked them off into their bedroom somewhere, watched as the muscles in his stomach tightened just by looking at her between his legs. She ran her hands along his thighs as slowly as she could before she took his cock in her hand and admired how Gale threw his head back further into his pillow as he felt her warm skin touch his. Mara stroked him a few times before she bent down and gave a wide swipe of her tongue from the bottom of his shaft to the tip. One of Gale’s hands flew to her hair as she did it again and swirled her tongue around the tip to collect the precum that emanated from him. She took him in her mouth just as he was about to say something and caused him to gasp at the feel of her. After she bobbed her head up and down a few times, she released him from her mouth, much to his dismay, and looked at him with her gaze that often beguiled him. 

“You doing okay?” She asked with a sultry tone. 

Gale struggled to slow his breathing down, “Marvelous, darling. Don’t… please.. Don’t stop.” He panted. 

Mara smiled and pressed a searing kiss to hip before she took him in her mouth again. She continued to take as much of him as she could as deep as she could. She used her hand to stroke what she couldn’t take. Mara could hear a spew of curses that streamed from Gale before he started to chant her name like a prayer. She hollowed his cheeks when she heard this, desperate to pleasure him and hear him cry her name as he orgasmed. Gale knew he wouldn’t last much longer if she kept up the pace and he was just as desperate to pleasure her, to feel and taste her cunt. He was too far gone to be able to form sentences; he used the hand that was in her hair to dig deeper into her thick, luscious hair and gave it one good, hard pull to make her stop for a moment. 

Gale heard Mara grunt in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she took herself off of him. He immediately rubbed that spot where he pulled in an attempt to soothe it as he caught his breath. 

“Apologizes, love. I was close but couldn’t find the words to tell you to stop.” Gale said as he sat up in front of her. 

“I do love having that effect on you.” Mara hummed as she leaned into Gale. 

He was quick to capture her lips against his as he gave her a hungry kiss. She moaned at his fervor and attempted to straddle him again. He pushed against her hips to keep her on the bed and pulled his lips away. 

“As much as I want you on top of me again, I fear it would be ungentlemanly of me to leave you wanting.” He guided her to lay down where he had been. 

“We both know that won’t happen, love. Believe me, you take excellent care of me.” She didn’t resist the change in placement. 

He smirked at her sentiment as he straddled her and peppered kisses down her throat. He stopped at her pulse point and sucked her skin into his mouth; he knew it definitely bruised her, and he was excited to admire it later. He made his way down her body much faster than she had descended his. His eagerness to have his lips on her breasts was evident. He kissed his way down the valley of her chest and across one of her breasts before he took her nipple in his mouth. Mara let out a sharp moan as she tangled her hand in his hair and tried to pull him closer into her. She felt as Gale moved himself to one side of her; as she was about to question what he was doing, she felt his fingers curl around the waistband of her underwear. Mara instinctively lifted her hips for Gale to take them off. Gale moaned into her as he slid a finger through her folds and felt how wet she already was. He positioned himself between her thighs and marveled at the sight of her splayed out for him. He watched as her breasts heaved as she panted with want. Want for him. Gale wasted no time in getting his mouth on the apex of her thighs. They moaned in unison as he swiped his tongue through her folds and flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue. He latched his mouth around her sensitive bud and let out a guttural moan as he felt Mara’s thighs clench around his head. She let out a high pitched moan as he sucked on her clit. Her hand found the back of his head again and she wantonly moaned as she felt one of his fingers glide through her folds again. 

Gale reluctantly pulled his mouth off Mara, though he didn’t move it far from her before he asked, “How many fingers, angel?”, Mara whined at the question.

“Aht, aht. Use your words.”, he encouraged. 

“Two… two fingers. Gale, please.” She whined in response. 

“There’s my good girl.” His praise caused Mara to moan as she waited for him to touch her again. He placed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, and bit at her skin when he did.  

He slowly slid his fingers into her; he hissed at how tight she felt around him. Gale watched as Mara moaned and arched her back off the bed. He continued to slowly stretch her out and watched as her face contorted with pleasure. As much as Mara loved how much attention and care he gave her, she soon begged him for more. He obliged as he latched his lips around her clit again and fucked her with his fingers faster. He felt as Mara bucked her hips into his hand and mouth, how she clenched around him, ready to cum already. He removed his lips from around her clit and rested his head against her thigh. He wanted to watch her face as he curled his fingers inside of her and hit the spot she loved so much. Mara raised her brows in pleasure as she felt him press against the sensitive spot only he knew how to get to. A slew of curses came from her as she ground her hips into Gale, desperate for the orgasm she neared. Gale kept a fast pace as he wanted her to finish quickly. He could admit he wanted to have his cock buried deep within her, to feel her cum around him, but he wasn’t selfish enough to do that without making her cum on his fingers first.

He continued his praise to Mara, desperate to feel her clench around his fingers as she orgasmed. 

“Please, Mara, Please.. Let me feel you cum around my fingers.” Gale practically pleaded as he watched her come undone. 

That was all she needed to send her over the edge. Mara moaned his name loudly as she arched her back off the mattress and saw stars from the intense climax Gale gave her. She laid there, a sweaty mess, as she watched Gale sit up on his knees and bring the fingers he used to fuck her to his mouth. She watched as he sucked her cum off his fingers and moaned as he did. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him to her as she met him in a passionate kiss, able to taste herself on his tongue. 

He used his body to push her back against the mattress. He sat back up and grabbed the back of her thighs and pushed them back towards her head to bring her hips up. Gale lined himself up with Mara and pushed himself in; he let out a husky moan as he bottomed out easily and stilled himself for a moment to steel his nerves. Mara writhed underneath him and begged him to move. He was more than happy to do so as he set a punishing pace and put his chest on the back of Mara’s thighs as he fucked her. 

They both knew they wouldn’t last long like this; Gale had been close to cumming since Mara had given him a blowjob and the overstimulation was too much for Mara. Tears pricked her eyes as she felt the stretch of her muscles, the subtle stretch of her cunt, Gale’s weight on her; she was about to cum again. Gale knew this too, he could feel her cunt tighten around him, which caused him to groan in pleasure. 

He grabbed her hand as he fucked into her. “I need to feel you cum around me, angel. Please. I need to feel you cum around me again.” He begged. “You look so beautiful when you’re fucked out on my cock.” 

“Fuckin’ hells, Gale, don’t stop.” Mara moaned as she squeezed his hand tight. 

He continued his pace as he quickly approached his own orgasm until he felt Mara clench around him as she came with a scream of his name. It was too much for him and he buried himself deep within her as he came. He slowly dropped Mara’s legs, which she kept wrapped around him. Neither of them were ready to be separated. They laid tangled together for a few minutes before Gale slowly pulled himself out Mara; a hiss escaped him from the overstimulation and she whined at the loss of him. He clambered out of bed and disappeared into their ensuite for a moment but quickly returned with a warm, wet rag. He delicately cleaned Mara up and watched as her body jerked every time he touched her sensitive clit. 

Once Gale had sufficiently cleaned Mara up, he laid down next to her and pulled her flush with his body. He peppered kisses along the crown of her head as she tightly wrapped her arms around him. She felt as he moved a hand off of her and muttered something under his breath. She looked up at him to see that he had conjured a mistletoe above them with a cheeky smile. 

“Happy Midwinter, my love. You’re the best gift I could have ever received.” he whispered to her. 

Mara smiled as she groaned at his corny, but romantic, gesture. She placed a kiss on his lips and she said, “Happy Midwinter, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They cuddled into each other as much as they could as the early Midwinter morning sun glinted off the freshly fallen snow and into their window.

[one-vivid-judgment]

Hello! *evil laugh sounds* Sawashiro, Takabe, Ebina, Tesso, Kuwana and dirty little fantasies they have about their s/o, please! Thank you!

We going straight to horny jail for this one folks 🥳🥳

Jo Sawashiro

• God, this is embarrassing, especially for a guy like Sawashiro. But, despite the fact that he is a dom through and through, there is this side of him that kinda... wants to be dominated? Not outright pegged though, God forbid! Rather, he wants you to take full control—shove him back down if he tries to get up and take the reigns, pin his wrists down while you ride him, just take whatever you need and make him feel insignificant. It's not really that part that turns him on, though it is sexy in and of itself. It's about making him feel small, but still love him at the end of it all: holding him, kissing him, just generally treating him kindly after you've milked him dry. 

Mamoru Takabe

• You are always doing things for him ever since he became the ever-busy chairman of the Seiryu Clan, so really, all he wants is to return the favor. Tie you up and not let you do anything but take what he gives you... for a full 24 hours. Of course, there'd be breaks so your limbs don't go numb and you can fulfill your basic human necessities, but other than that, Takabe will be in charge. All. Day. But it's not about him using you—it's about making you come as much as you can possibly endure before you need to call it quits; on his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you name it. Testing your limits, if you will. 

Masataka Ebina

• The way this man wants to fuck you in front of all his men, you don't even know. Sure, he keeps you around for 'emotional support' during meetings 99% of the time (more like he wants to cop a feel when the meeting gets boring, for motivation you know?), but the most he does is grab a handful of thigh or grind against you. He outright wants to sit on his chairman chair, get you on top cowgirl style and fuck you while all his men watch. They wouldn't be allowed to touch you, of course; they'd just watch Ebina ruin you—he'd toy with the idea of letting his men use you, but you both know it's all mindless dirty talk. Ebina is too possessive and protective of you to ever let that happen for real. 

Tesso

• Zhao put the idea of food play in his head and it has been living in Tesso's head rent-free ever since. Why do you think he's been taking classes on how to temper chocolate properly? Hell, even just fruit would be great. Strawberries and whipped cream may sound cliché, but eating them off your tits sounds way better than eating them plain and simple. You know, like those sushi restaurants where you eat the sushi off a girl's naked body. He loves a sweet treat and he loves your body, so honestly, it's win-win all around. 

(He may have also thought about inviting Zhao over for a threesome, if you're interested, but that's a story for another day)

Jin Kuwana

• Full-on teacher-student roleplay. Don't get him wrong he likes the usual, simpler 'only calling him Kuwana-sensei and nothing else' type of roleplay, but he's been wanting to do a deep-dive for a while. With a slutty uniform, a desk, maybe one of those big rulers that break easy too. He'd want you to play the bad student who's failing their subjects and needs to make up for it somehow (aka, banging your teacher) and he'd play hard to get because he's supposed to be the good, professional teacher, but eventually, he'd give in and fuck you senseless. Of course, you'd also be calling him 'Kuwana-sensei' the whole time.

(Alternatively, handyman/customer roleplay. Yes, he kinda has a thing for sexual roleplay.)

[healthylifestyleblogs]

[squadrah]

got inspired by the awesome dilf post, so please: la squadra as milfs???

I'M SOBBING, here we go I guess!! I'm dialing this one to eleven!!

Risotto: She's giant in every way so everyone else appears quite small next to her. She's usually in the kitchen or her kitchen garden, picking fruit from her trees without needing so much as a stool to reach most of them. Rumor has it she once slapped a wild bear in the face with her chancla to defend her family, and if asked about it, she will modestly look away and murmur, "Anyone else would have done the same." (The bear never came back, by the way.)

Formaggio: You can tell she used to be a hardcore punk: she still sports a buzz cut, with red lipstick and golden hoop earrings to add some bright colors. She's top heavy and proud of it, so she makes sure to show ample cleavage and likes to wear leather jackets. She loves to go out and constantly organizes outings for her friends and family; has never missed an event, and has never left an event without drinking something. A dangerous flirt.

Prosciutto: She's extremely overcommitted, and how she hasn't gone insane yet from micromanaging everything from work to her entire family's smallest concerns is a mystery. Her children are still affected by her leaning in and papping their cheeks, and the impression is even stronger on covetous strangers. Only ever lets her curly hair down for evening parties, at which point she basically transforms into into a femme fatale. Pegs like a battering ram.

Pesci: Always overcome by severe gender dysphoria whenever she compares herself to her more feminine peers, but she makes do with cute and novel ways of styling her scant hair, nice patterned tops and trouser skirts. She's often shy, but sometimes has her bold moments that suggest she could be a real firecracker if properly encouraged. Does a lot of heavy lifting that reveals ridiculous core strength and flexibility. Loves dancing and rhythm games.

Ghiaccio: The only one in yoga class who wishes you were allowed to scream out loud, and the only parent who, if their child takes up a sport, will take up that sport herself both as a form of support and as a means of bonding with her child and people her age. Is a health freak and makes kale smoothies, but since her legs look great in tight pants and her tits are rock hard, she's clearly winning. Has probably never had an orgasm, so there's a good challenge.

Melone: How is she still alive, and why does she still look like a barely aged scene girl? Nobody knows, not even her, but she's happy to lounge on her designated bean bag chair in cute pajamas and her laptop always on. Be careful around her: her brain is oversaturated with niche Wikipedia articles and she'll tell you all about them as soon as you're near enough to hear, and you might in ten minutes find yourself painting her toenails while she's reading your horoscope.

Illuso: Oh, she is the ultimate Karen. Luscious hair styles, immaculate manicures, the latest mom fashions, and a holier-than-thou smirk that instantly makes the manager homicidal. Knows her coupons and discounts more than the Bible but she's dressed to the nines every Sunday flashing that mass stipend to let everyone know she's more generous of heart than they could ever be, then whines at the barista about her order. Teases her children mercilessly.

Sorbet: That one esoteric plant witch who loves her orchids more than her own children, and would become a certified hermit if she could. Since she's stuck with her family, however, she stalks around her home like she's embodying Morticia Addams, and talks to everyone in a dry and ominous tone. Watches too many murder mysteries and cooks mushroom stew right after. You are welcome to indulge her obscure opera obsession, but watch out.

Gelato: The whimsical happy-go lucky mom that every fanciful child dreams of, the type who builds blanket forts in the living room, thinks that everyone deserves a little treat always, and actively assists whenever anyone around her wants to try something new and possibly dangerous. Has nearly burned down her house a dozen times but she keeps toasting marshmallows in bed with a blowtorch. Hope you have insurance if you decide to engage.

[sybaritick]

another galetash post from me as usual but this time it's re: how much i love intentionally bringing up and contrasting Gortash's absolutely shitty childhood with Gale's (which was certainly difficult in ways but it seems that financial hardship wasn't one of em!)

things i said on discord to my friends about my galetash fic concept and the concept of food shortages in Baldur's Gate following the Absolute crisis, how Gale might feel guilty about their luxury in the face of such hardship and Gortash would admonish him for it--

the tight situation on the outside worsens predictably as fall turns to winter. gortash, of course, can get whatever he wants. what used to be a "people on the outside can't get butter anywhere but we use it as usual" situation becomes "gortash offers a truly surprising variety of breakfast pastries now. with that rotten little quirk of his lips, like you're the only one not in on the joke." it's intentionally showing off. gale hates this a little too much. he's familiar with the way the upper crust remains insulated from the struggles of the populace, but it's another thing altogether to worsen them for some petty little display of power. gortash will give him a sympathetic little smile. a nasty little justification about how one should at least take the time to indulge in the trappings of power occasionally. the Black Hand may reward striving for striving's sake-- but what's a better reminder of the importance of our goals than to enjoy the fruits of our labor from time to time? don't tell me you feel guilty. why, when you were a boy at Blackstaff i doubt a bad harvest would ever touch the meals they'd afford you. even if a dry roll or two wasted by squabbling schoolboys might have meant the world to some street urchin in the lower city, hm? (resentment, resentment, resentment. gortash lets a little too much slip, there.)

(this is not like. finished dialogue for the fic this is just off the cuff chattering to friends. but you get my point)

the point is that I enjoy a Gale that does not want to see the depth of the divide between what the upper classes are afforded and what the rest have to face. and Enver who very much wants to show it to him. Don't flinch from the reality of it. Glory in being on top.

i will write them as a champagne socialist / gutter-born archcapitalist because i think it's fun and nasty. gale's "I love this city (just don't go to that other part)" vibes about Waterdeep are very real. do you think they made him volunteer at a soup kitchen or tutoring on the other side of the tracks as a kid for some honor-society purpose? gotta get his community service hours in. does he go to the annual charity dinner at Blackstaff? and does he feel warm and fuzzy inside for 15 seconds when he gets the scholarship-mandated thank you letter from some random student about how grateful they are for their education? you know he comes off as a bit out of touch...

it doesn't make Gortash any less horrible. but it does make Gale look a little less nice. :)

[kneeslapworthy]

S.Q. has a strong albeit shaky grip, which certainly makes precise linework difficult, but he’s learned to work around it. His hands are also cold and distinctively not clammy. Unlike some of his peers, (who he’s occasionally been able to observe more closely during class) S.Q.’s fingers do not leave behind small circles of perspiration on paper, he does not continuously drop his utensils in the cafeteria because his hands are too slippery, and he does not have to constantly wipe his hands on the front of his trousers to dry them off. He supposes it’s a small privilege, to be able to hold onto things and not constantly drop them. 

And yet, things continue to slip through his fingers. 

He often loses his pencils. Not the ones he uses for his art, no, those he keeps obsessively organized in a pencil case. If he were to lose those he doubts his father would be too pleased to purchase new ones. Meanwhile, the pencils and erasers required for his schoolwork just keep disappearing. It’s almost comical, how he can rummage through his mess of a bag (filled with pencil shavings, scraps of paper, and the dangerously sharp pieces of a broken ruler) and find everything but the one pencil he needs to be able to take a simple exam in Mr. Oshiro’s class. Or, that’s a lie; the exam was not simple. 

Often, he resorts to using his colored pencils when taking these exams (which results in odd looks from his teachers, but not much else). Students at the Institute are often too focused on achieving top marks to help another struggling student, least of all the headmaster’s supposedly spoiled son. Even then, S.Q. would never be able to accept a pencil from someone else, mostly out of fear of losing that too. Then there’s also the fact that people don’t offer S.Q. things without expecting certain favors in return. ‘Genuine generosity’ appears to be a rarity in the world, if not completely extinct. Not that S.Q. is any different, he hasn’t felt inclined to share – whether it’s his things or himself – in quite some time. It’s safer that way: Don’t take, don’t give, don’t lose. 

S.Q. could exist within that philosophy without too many issues. Sure, he wasn’t pleased nor even remotely close to happy (whatever that means), but at least it was safe. At least he knew where everything was. He couldn’t lose what he didn’t have, and what he did have could neatly fit into his bag (seemingly apart from pencils, erasers, intact rulers, and last week’s homework assignment for Mr. Oshiro’s class). 

That was until he met someone who gave without thinking. Someone whose hands and arms were perpetually open, as though in preparation to always just give, give, give. It didn’t make sense. At first, as S.Q. observed this generous vigilante from a distance, he wanted to tell them to close up: To fold their hands into fists and cross their arms over their chest; to keep their head down and to keep safe. But when the two spoke for the first time, in the confines of his father’s office (which is not how S.Q. would plan for any fruitful social interactions to take place in), S.Q. was instead introduced to the boy named Reynard, though he preferred to be called Reynie. 

And Reynie gave out his abbreviated name so freely – almost as freely as he lent out his pencils and homemade bookmarks – that anyone could assume to be his friend. And S.Q. found himself taking that title, ‘friend’, and gripping onto it. Tightly. He found himself giving in and giving away. 

Reynie never took without gratitude. In fact, it seemed as though he rarely took anything at all. S.Q. had wanted to be suspicious, like he had been in the beginning when the boy had been all but a silhouette clad in yellow. But it was difficult to continue poking at a bruise in order to keep it dark and painful when Reynie kept pulling his hand away; when he kept stilling his mind before his fears could lead it astray.

All of this was partly why the letter, dropped from a strange falcon, felt so dizzying. Like a cross between a racketing realization and a confirmation of a deep, visceral fear. Reynie’s purported ‘mission’ to stop his father’s ‘evil plot’ didn’t even matter to S.Q.. What mattered was that someone’s generosity had been so deeply fraudulent. It hadn’t been kindness, empathy, or any synonymous, redeemable trait. No, it had been nothing but unmitigated theft, taking under the guise of giving. And S.Q. didn’t know what to say. He had taken, he had given, he had lost. It was so simple, so predictable that he truly had no one to blame but himself. It was embarrassing. It was infuriating. 

But he also couldn’t allow himself to take from Reynie in return. To become a thief stealing from a thief. It would be unethical (not that ethics ever play a part in the field of thievery), or at least that was the only justification S.Q. could come up with at that moment. In retrospect, it was probably because he didn’t want to lose something – someone – he actually cared to keep, just this once. So, instead, he let the boy go. 

He let something slip through his fingers then, too. Whether that thing was Reynie, the boy with the open arms; or his own sanity, he isn’t quite sure of. As for right now, he tries not to hold on too tightly anymore. 

[wizardofahz]

Kindred Spirits, Part II

Fandoms: Supergirl, Nikita A/N: Kara Zor-El and Alexandra Udinov both had their lives turned upside down when they were about the same age, so I thought, what if I make them small and sad together? Continuation of Part I, but now with supermom Eliza. Content Warnings: Nikita-canon-typical mentions of suicidal thoughts and behaviors, drug use, non-consensual sex

Kara watches Eliza prepare breakfast before school.

She braces herself and then ventures tentatively, "I made a new friend."

"That's wonderful!" says Eliza, quickly laying down the fruit she'd been cutting. She turns to give Kara her full attention, beaming. "Is it one of your classmates?"

For most kids, that would probably be true, but Kara has been forging her own path on this planet. She knows Eliza hopes that one day she'll make human friends her age, but she's found more comfort and familiarity in strays like Streaky.

Sasha is human and her age, but she's not a classmate. It's hard to be someone's classmate from three thousand miles away.

Speaking of how she's been traversing those three thousand miles...

"Please don't be mad."

Eliza stiffens slightly, but she does a good job of masking her concern. When she speaks, her voice is calm, gentle even. "Why would I be mad?"

Kara takes a deep breath and then launches into her story. She's been back to visit Sasha a few times now. Each visit has shed more light on the horrifying situation Sasha and the other girls are in. It's impossible to keep the emotion out of her voice as she sees her own horror reflected back to her in Eliza's increasingly distraught expression.

To her credit, Eliza lets her get it all out before sighing, "Oh, Kara."

"I'll stop complaining about school," Kara promises vehemently. "I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to fix Earth things. I know that now. I'll go to school, and I'll learn." She'll endure the inane math and science classes, the boring history classes, anything if it means she'll be able to help people like Sasha in the future. "Please. They need help."

...

Kara stands just to Eliza's left and holds out her arms.

"When I fly with Alex--I mean, when I flew with Alex, we would..."

Eliza notes the present tense slip up and knows she'll have to revisit it later, even if it does pale in comparison to what else has apparently been transpiring.

Jeremiah would put a stop to all of this immediately. Perhaps that's why she hasn't told him yet. Or perhaps, Eliza tells herself, he's already busy with the DEO and doesn't need anything else to worry about.

It's a flimsy excuse, but Eliza knows herself and she knows her daughter. Eliza can tell Kara not to go back, but that doesn't mean Kara won't. And as for Eliza herself, well, she won't be forgetting about those girls in a hurry.

With that in mind, Eliza settles into Kara's hold as she gently hovers above the ground to test Eliza's comfort level.

Then they're off.

It's her first time flying with Kara. Under different circumstances, she'd reflect on the absolute wonder of it. The view is spectacular, and when the wind is in danger of drying out her eyes, she closes them and revels in the feel of the wind against her skin.

And it's all courtesy of her daughter.

Flight. Super speed. Super strength. So many of Kara's powers on display.

But there's no time. Before long, Kara is landing them on the roof of their destination and gesturing for her to wait.

Kara has scoped out the building and the guards' schedules in advance, but she does a run through of the building now just in case. As much as this is a mission to save the girls, Kara has been adamant that Eliza's safety is also a top priority.

Tonight, most of the guards have been pulled away for something else. No one has been assigned in their place. The people in charge clearly found little threat in a bunch of drug-addicted girls with no where to go.

Eliza's here to make sure they have somewhere to go.

And that's only one of the many things they'll need help with.

Addiction treatment, trauma counseling, health check ups, social services (are they safe to go back to their families or did their families give them up), things Eliza's forgetting, things she'd never consider.

Because as much as she is the adult, as much as she's been a lifelong resident of this planet and this country, as much as she can be said to know more than Kara, she doesn't know enough.

When she meets the girls, the one thing she does know for certain is that she will absolutely be crying later.

...

Kara's new friend Sasha is Alexandra Udinov, the lost heiress to a billion dollar company called Zetrov.

At least, to the rest of the world, she is.

To Sasha, she is the lost daughter of parents who had been murdered in their home while it burned down around them. The only part of being an heiress that matters is that she will most likely be killed the moment she resurfaces.

Eliza's mind nearly crashes and burns because of course, of course life had yet another curve ball to throw her way.

And she finds out in perhaps the worst possible way.

Like Kara's earlier protectiveness, Eliza isn't helping the girls blindly. She can't forget that some of the girls have seen Kara use her powers. She can help the girls and investigate the potential threat level at the same time.

By Kara's account, only two of the girls have seen her use her powers. The first girl Kara saved poses no threat. Eliza can't deny that there's something horrifying and perverse in the relief that she was too high, too lost in her nightmare of a reality to remember anything.

Sasha is another story entirely. While Kara may have initially manifested herself as a hallucination with magical powers, her subsequent visits and Eliza's presence are proof that she's more than a heroin-induced fever dream.

Eliza can't help it. Her questions come out a little too pointed, a little too probing. Sasha picks up on the threat assessment, and she visibly retreats, understanding that being a threat to Kara has turned into a threat against herself.

Kara must have made quite the impression though, enough to make Eliza completely trustworthy by association, because Sasha offers up her own identity as collateral. She doesn't say the words, merely shows Eliza her father's watch, holding it out for Eliza to see but not far enough to hand it over, to risk giving it up.

The pieces of Eliza's heart, already broken by the tragedy around her, shatter. She takes in Sasha's hunched frame, terrified she made the wrong choice in trusting Eliza, and feels the oxygen in her blood transform into a self-loathing guilt as her vessels deliver it to every cell in her body.

It's no wonder, really, that Kara and Sasha had bonded so quickly--two girls whose worlds had burned down around them, families lost, and who now live in a world where revealing their real identities could only result in death or worse.

"Can I hug you?" Eliza asks.

Sasha's tiny frame trembles in her arms, unused to comfort after so many months and unsure if it's real.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eliza murmurs, and whatever walls Sasha valiantly tried to maintain dissolve now. Her muscles slacken, and the only movement comes from her lungs, heaving with sobs.

The thought of adopting Sasha passes through Eliza's mind.

She would probably need a new identity and papers, which is doable. They know a guy.

Goodness, she's starting to sound like some sort of career criminal.

"California woman convicted of serial child adoption," the headline would read.

But reality pops the idealistic dream forming in her head. Eliza still has to deal with Jeremiah. Alex has been handling the adjustment from only child to older sister admirably, but Eliza knows they can only ask so much of her. The steep increase from financially supporting one to three children cannot be ignored, not to mention the ever-growing dark cloud of external threats hanging over their heads.

Eliza clutches Sasha tighter and promises, swears to both Sasha and herself, that she'll figure something out.