#when you hear your friend talking about you behind your back but he only has nice things to say

[nmhdreamscape]

wanna bet? ✧ l.dh

pairing | non-idol!haechan x fem!reader word count | 6.4k words synopsis | a bet with your enemy where the winner gets whatever they want, what could possibly go wrong? besides, you weren't one to lose, especially to lee haechan. content | enemies to lovers (one-sided), flirty, smut, lots of back and forth, they love to cut each other off, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe!), teasing, hair pulling, some marking, messy request | haechan + 1 (as part of valentine's gift series)

meeting up with your friends after class was almost routine at this point. your chosen hang-out spot was the small garden area at the centre of campus, always sitting on the grass as the tables were always taken. the small group of you would take it as an opportunity to debrief and vent about your days. however, today was different. when you had agreed to meet with everyone like you always do, you were expecting an opportunity to vent about the group assignment coming up or how your latest essay was marked way too harshly. instead, you were greeted by talk of date night plans and romantic gifts.

it was valentine’s day, and you hadn’t even noticed. cursing yourself for not noticing, you reluctantly sat down alongside your friends, preparing yourself for an hour of listening to just how great everyone else’s love life was. 

you were barely paying attention when the sound of your name brought you back to reality. it seems that your friends had all finished talking about their plans. all eyes shifted to you, it now your turn to detail your valentine’s plans. being the only single one of the group, you didn’t know exactly why they were asking. You decided to indulge them anyway. You began to rattle off something about how you had decided to spend the holiday alone. Too engrossed in coming up with a plausible story, you failed to hear the sound of footsteps coming up behind you.

“alone on valentines, a little sad, isn’t it?” you froze, recognising that voice from anywhere. you turned to look up at a smirking haechan. your eyes immediately narrowed, looking away from him with a scoff. you hated how he always seemed to have this air of smugness around him. hated how he seemed to command the attention of whatever room he walked into. you hated how he now sat across from you, giving you the same look he always seemed to give you. a knowing look as though he had you right where he wanted you to be, like it was only a matter of time before you fell for him like everyone else seemed to.

you hate lee haechan. and you would never give him the satisfaction of falling for him.

“god you’re annoying. didn’t your mother ever teach you to not interrupt people when they’re speaking” you spat, arms coming to cross underneath your chest. you didn’t miss the way that haechan’s eyes travelled downward to watch the movement before snapping back upward again, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“she did, but i’m sure you can teach me some more… creative ways to shut up.” haechan leant back down onto the grass, body spread out and on full display and a hand brushing through his hair. your eyes scanned his body as he did so, feeling a slight heat rising to your ears at the sight. he was attractive, not that you’d ever let him hear that. you were stubborn, not a liar. if only his personality better matched his looks, maybe then things would be different between the two of you.

haechan just couldn’t seem to wipe the smirk off his face. he had clearly noticed the way you had noticed him. it was clear to you now that his actions being done with the intent of you gawking over him. you hated the way he got some sort of sick enjoyment out of getting a rise out of you.

“you’re actually disgusting.”

this was the normal routine between the two of you. whenever your friends has the displeasure of being in the same room as you both, they would watch your back and forths like a tennis match. haechan would always open like he had tonight with some teasing remark, always seeming to know how to push your buttons just right. you would then follow up with some kind of insult, only for haechan to then turn it into some vaguely sexual innuendo. your back and forth would continue like that until you both felt satisfied. your friends now knew better than to try to intervene after being reprimanded many times before, instead choosing to take a backseat to it all.

so that’s what your friends did, choosing to watch on in silence as you continued to go at one another. and while they knew that haechan’s comments came with the intention of driving you mad, they would have to be blind not to notice the obvious tension between the two of you. they were just waiting to see who would cave first.

“why don’t i do you a favour and take you out, that way you won’t be lonely.” haechan suggested. he now had a certain look in his eye, as though he would be doing you a favour by taking you out. you tried to barely pay it any mind, fobbing his comment off.

“i don’t need you to take me out, if i wanted to have a date, i could go out and get one.”

“really? want to bet on it?” now that caught your attention. “if you get a date by midnight you win, if you don’t, i win.” haechan continued, now sitting back upright. 

“what does the winner get?”

“anything they want, so long as it isn’t too crazy.” you thought it over. knowing haechan, this was probably some sort of trap. and yet, you couldn’t seem to figure out what the downside could be. sure, there were many things haechan could force you to do if you lost. but you don’t lose, and you weren’t planning on starting now.

“bagging a date and getting to see the look on your face when i win. how could i refuse?” you sated, returning haechan’s smug attitude. 

the two of you fleshed out the details together, while your friends carried on their own conversations. you needed to secure and go on a date before valentine’s was over. it could be anyone, so long as it was a legitimate date and not just some friend you had convinced to play along. you also had to make sure to get some sort of evidence of your date, such as a picture or a gift. once it was past midnight, you would meet haechan outside his dorm room and determine who was the winner. 

the winner would get whatever they want from the other person, so long as it is within reason. the two of you went back and forth about what exactly ‘within reason’ meant. haechan eventually suggested that there be some sort of veto system whereby you could bypass a request, stating “i’m not an asshole, i’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do.”. that was before immediately suggesting that using the veto would be the ‘cowards way out’ and something that ‘he would never do’. after thinking it over one last time, you held out your hand in agreement. haechan simply smirked at this, reaching forward to take your hand into his own. you firmly shook hands, sealing your agreement.

finding a date was going to be so easy, you had nothing to worry about.

fuck dates. fuck valentine’s. and fuck people who had dates on valentine’s.

turns out, finding a date at 6pm on valentine’s day wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be. though the universe did seem to enjoy making you suffer, so you don’t know why you were surprised. anyone you had been talking to or were casually interested in seeing were busy, already having made plans for the night. 

at 7pm, you messaging anyone you had come in to some sort of contact with in your classes to see if they were free. anyone from people you’ve done a group project with to the people you’ve simply exchanged greetings with. all seemed to be busy with their own plans.

by 8pm, you were stalking the social media pages of your exes, trying to figure out if any of them were single and would be willing to take you out. much to your dismay, they all appeared to be in some sort of relationship that would prevent them from taking you out. and even though you knew some of them were shitty enough to take you out despite having someone else in their lives, you weren’t about to step on anyone's toes.

9pm brought with it desperation. time was well and truly ticking now, and you still had no hope in sight. that’s how you ended up with a horde of freshly installed dating apps staring back at you. you must have broken some kind of record trying to set them all up, cursing whoever decided that you needed to hand over your life story in order to have a complete profile.

once you got in, you immediately began swiping right in every profile that came your way, not caring if your efforts came off as desperate so long as you won. matches trickled in at a snails pace it seemed. half of them were looking for a hook-up, you now being traumatised by multiple unsolicited dick pics. the other half seemed unwilling to meet you straight away.

10pm signalled you losing hope. you finally just began to be brutally honest with the people you were matching with, hoping one of them would take pity on you and take you out. you weren’t having much luck with that strategy either, even having one of your accounts banned after one match was particularly concerned for your well-being. 

11pm was when you were meant to meet the one guy crazy enough to take you up on your offer. you had thanked any holy figure you could think of when you matched, the guy being both close to campus and not scared off by your whole date-to-win-a-bet thing. you had agreed to meet at the 24-hour café on campus. and yet as the time ticked on, your match was nowhere to be found. 11 became 11:15 then 11:30 and still nothing. at 11:45 you accepted your fate, you had been stood up.

well that’s embarrassing.

but nowhere near as embarrassing it will be to admit defeat to haechan. when the alarm went off on your phone signalling that it was now midnight, you could have cried. you had actually managed to lose. you begrudgingly grabbed your things and left the café to make your way over to haechan’s dorm. after six hours of hopelessly searching for a date, you don’t think you were mentally prepared to deal with his antics. but a deal’s a deal.

pushing the door to haechan’s dorm building took more out of you than you would like to admit, your dignity seemingly vanishing into the wind. as you approached haechan’s dorm room, his figure came into view. he was wearing the same ripped jeans and sweater as before now paired with a pair of thick dark frames you had only ever seen him wear before on days when he had forgotten to put his contacts in. he chose to lean against the wall and play with his phone as he waited for you. you had taken notice of the outfit before, as you thought he looked particularly nice today. how did he manage to look this good, so late? shouldn’t he be dishevelled and in his pajamas by now? 

but it also got you thinking. did haechan even have a date of his own? you knew he didn’t have a girlfriend to go out with, but maybe someone else? that would explain why he was still so well put together so late at night. but during your hangout, he never mentioned having a date of his own. and he hadn’t posted anything to indicate he was going out. did he stay all dressed up because he was meeting with you? surely not.

the sound of your platform boots against the floor altered haechan to your presence. he put his phone away in his back pocket, his eyes finally looking up to meet yours. a smirk immediately graced his lips. it was clear on your expression, he had won. you positioned yourself on the wall on the other side of the hallway with a huff.

“you can wipe that smug grin off your face, just tell me what you want as a prize.” you conceded with a roll of your eyes. you hated losing, but this was even worse. you absolutely hated giving him the satisfaction. at least you could say you tried. 

haechan simply watched you, revelling in your dismay. he didn’t seem to even mull over what he might make you do, having already thought it over with the assumption that he was going to win. you knew he already had something in mind, otherwise he wouldn’t have offered the deal in the first place. what exactly was he planning?

“for my prize, you owe me a kiss.” your eyes went wide, looking at him in pure horror. as much as you wanted to believe that you had misheard him, he was crystal clear in his request. images started flashing through your head of what it would be like to kiss haechan. him having to lean down to meet your lips, hands coming to grip at your waist. how good it would feel to have him pressing against you, fingers running through his hair as he claimed his prize.

what. the. actual. fuck. since when did you think about him like that? you would slap yourself for thinking like that, but haechan had a habit of sniffing out weakness, and you didn’t want to let him see you sweat. haechan narrowed his eyes at the lack of a clap back, expecting a more explosive response. you finally decided to indulge him.

“are you serious?” you exclaimed, ignoring the slight heat you felt on the tips of your ears. 

“deadly.”

“out of all the things you could get, a kiss?” haechan simply nodded, looking at you expectantly. the thoughts from earlier came rushing back to you, cheeks flaring red now.

“i’m not kissing you!” you shouted before slamming a hand over your mouth, hoping that you hadn’t woken anyone in the dorm with your antics. haechan let out a small laugh, shaking his head. 

“that’s unfair! it was part of the bet, i won fair and square. it’s a perfectly reasonable request!” he justified with a huff.

“to you maybe!”

“does the idea of kissing me turn you off that much?” haechan pouted, arms crossing over his chest. you had no reasonable response to that question. because despite what you insisted you felt for the man in front of you, the idea of kissing him was not turning you off. in fact, it was kind of doing the opposite. this had to be the result of sleep deprivation, or mental overexertion from trying to find a date in such a hurry. and well… he’s attractive, who wouldn’t want to kiss an attractive man?

lee haechan was trying to coax you into kissing him. and it was working.

you studied the expression on his face. at first, you thought he was playing it up, acting all pouty in an attempt to get you to cave. but underneath it all, there was something else. had your rejection managed to genuinely upset him? it seemed like it had. the back and forth between you had always been mostly lighthearted. and while you hated his attitude, you would never deliberately want to make someone upset.

well, that’s what you would say to justify what you were about to do.

haechan watched as somehow your cheeks managed to flush an even darker red, taking a couple steps forward so that you were well and truly in his personal space. you leant upwards to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, just below the mole on his cheek bone. you immediately scurried back to your side of the hallway, watching as haechan just processed what you did.

haechan was stunned. you had actually gone through with it. sort of. his eyes scanned over your blushing figure with a smirk, fingers coming up to trace where your lips had been. you watched on in horror, coming to grips with what you had just done. you could already hear the teasing remarks he was about to spew, most likely about how you hadn’t actually fulfilled your end of the deal. 

he had managed to reduce you to a fumbling, blushing, rambling mess at the mere proposal of a kiss. which is probably why you jumped to speak before he could make fun of you.

“you never specified where you wanted to be kissed. if you wanted it to be somewhere specific, you should have said. i think i did you a favour by kissing you on the cheek. if anything, i think that’s a more valid form of kissing, more intimate even. i swear i read a study that said-” your rant was cut off by the feeling of lips against yours. you froze in place, eyes finally focusing on the image of haechan in front of you, his eyes having fluttered closed as he kisses you in the way he had originally intended to happen.

and for some reason that you would definitely have to unpack later, you began to kiss him back.

now that it was happening, your imagination did not do it justice. the way his soft lips left against yours. how he chose to cup your face with his hands instead of resting them on your waist. how he pulled you in closer to him as you reciprocated, his movements becoming more rushed as you leant into him. you gripped onto his sweater tightly as his tongue slid into your mouth, eliciting a sigh from the back of your throat.

it was a few minutes before the two of you parted, out of breath and panting into each other’s mouths. you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, coming to some silent agreement, before haechan turned around to open the door to his dorm room. you quickly shuffled inside, haechan following close behind as he closed and locked the door behind him. 

you barely had time to kick your shoes off before he was on you again, lips pressing against yours in a way you could only describe as desperate. you returned his kiss with a giggle, hands coming up to tangle in his hair. at the feeling of you tugging on his hair, haechan let out a groan. he nipped lightly at your bottom lip before trailing kisses down the column of your neck. he seemed to find your most sensitive spots with ease, paying them the most attention as he basked in whatever small noises he could coax out of you. 

he slowly began to move you both towards his bed, lips coming up to meet yours again. with the back of your legs hitting the edge of the bed, you felt haechan lightly push against your shoulder. now separated, you fell back against his mattress with a huff. you quickly shuffled further up the bed, watching as he crawled to be on top of you. 

haechan paused when he came face-to-face with you. he stared down at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. your cheeks grew warm at the intensity of his gaze, hands coming up to hide your face. haechan wasn’t having any of it, moving your hands to pin them either side of your head. 

“what?” you finally questioned, unable to suppress the goofy smile forming on your lips. haechan let out a hearty laugh, leaning down to resume kissing you.

“you know, you could have easily won today.” he stated when he decided to pull away from you once more. you looked up at him in confusion.

“how?”

“you could have asked me out.” now you were even more confused. to accept your invitation for a date would have meant an automatic loss for him. did he want to lose?

“but that would mean you lost?”

“yeah, but it would have been worth it so see how happy winning made you.” oh. well that caught you off guard. you don’t think you had ever heard haechan say something so… romantic. and he was so genuine in his sentiment, that’s what caught you off guard the most. 

haechan took your silence as an opportune moment to go back to pressing kisses against the sensitive spots on your neck. his fingers began to work at the buttons on your shirt. you watched in amusement as he struggled slightly.

“where’s all this sappiness been hiding?” you questioned, finally giving in and helping him to take off your blouse. 

“it’s always been there. teasing you is just more fun.” he winked, quickly taking his own shirt off before resuming his trail of kisses down your collarbones and to the swell of your breasts. 

“you’re actually evil.”

“yeah, but don’t act like you don’t like it that way.” haechan teased, movements pausing so he could rest his head on your chest and look up and you mischievously. you looked down at him and scoffed, mind beginning to conjure an appropriate retort. however, any rebuttal you had died on your tongue when haechan’s fingers slipped underneath your skirt to palm at you through your panties. he watched on with a smirk as your expression shifted from one of reprimand to pleasure. 

haechan let out a quiet curse as he felt how wet you had gotten. he hastily pushed your panties aside, fingers coming to part your folds. you let out a moan as his fingers found your clit, drawing small circles around it. haechan positioned himself directly above you again, crashing your lips together in a hurried kiss. he ate up every single noise you gave him, tongue teasing them out of the back of your throat. 

you felt him slip his middle finger inside of you, shallowly thrusting it in and out as his thumb came to resume the ministrations against your clit. you involuntarily parted from him with an elongated whine, back arching and head lulling back in pleasure. you felt yourself growing flushed at the depravity of it all. haechan fingering you underneath your skirt, groaning into the nape of your neck at how good you felt, spit slicked lips pressing against your skin with every noise.

“not so evil now am i?” he smirked, finally letting his finger slip all the way inside. you let out something between a laugh and a moan at the sensation, haechan somehow being able to angle his finger in just the right way to hit your most pleasurable spots with every thrust.

he was very clearly taunting you with his words, thinking he had rendered you incapable of engaging in the back and forth he enjoyed so much. the first time you attempted to respond, he slipped a second finger inside of you, resulting in you cutting yourself off with a gasp. haechan let out a small laugh at your reaction. it was like he knew you were about to make a smart ass comment. after a few more quiet moans made their way past your lips, you managed to respond. 

“that’s debatable.” haechan watched you in amusement. it was clear from the way you were now gripping at his sheets that he was doing something right. and yet you still wanted to push him for more.

“how do i show you i’m good, then?” he asked with feigned innocence, removing his fingers from you entirely. you let out a high-pitched whine at the loss of pleasure. he backed off of you entirely, straddling your lap as he waited for a response. you let out a frustrated huff at his teasing. 

haechan sat there silently, smirk growing wider with every moment. he wanted to do some good? then you were gonna tell him exactly how. you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, now once again face to face with the boy in your lap. 

“by shutting up and putting that mouth to better use elsewhere.”

you let out a giggle as haechan pushed you back down into the mattress. he shimmied further down with his target in mind, trailing kisses along your abdomen as he moved downward. when he reached the waistband of your skirt he simply flipped the pleats up, dragging your panties down your legs and flicking them where he had flung all your other clothes.

he then positioned himself in front of your now exposed sex, letting out a string of curses at how good you looked to him. he began trailing kisses along your inner thighs, taking his time to leave some evidence behind that he had been there. on reflex, your thighs came to close around his head. he let out a groan at the feeling, hands coming up to hold them apart.

you sat up onto your elbows, letting out small noses at the feeling of his lips against your thighs. although you were a little confused. why hadn’t he taken your skirt off? surely it was just getting in the way at this point. just as he was about to move on to the main event you gripped at his hair, holding him in place. he looked up at you with an irritated look, disappointed you had just prevented him from getting a taste.

“you’re keeping my skirt on?” you questioned, your hold on haechan’s hair loosening. he furred his eyebrows in response.

“yeah? is that a problem?”

“yeah it is.”

“why?” you knew it wouldn’t be as simple as him agreeing and moving on, it never was. you were beginning to feel embarrassed by your protest, remaining in silence instead of answering. haechan sensed your reluctance, rubbing soothing circles into your thighs. “i can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” he added, looking up at you with genuine concern.

“i wanna watch you.” you admitted quietly, avoiding his gaze. haechan felt himself relax in knowing that he hadn’t done anything wrong. haechan pursed his lips as he contemplated his response. he could give in, but where was the fun in that? 

“well i think you look really fucking hot in this skirt, so i’m gonna keep it on.”

“but-“

“y/n, relationships are about compromise.” haechan said with a mocking tone. the situation was almost comical. you two were probably the only people who would start bickering over the way you were about to be eaten out.

“we’re not in a relationship!” you corrected with a huff.

“just give me about five minutes and i’ll convince you otherwise.” he said with a wink, hands reaching up to grab at the hem of your skirt. he pushed it up in your direction, waiting for you to grab onto it. you did so despite your confusion, looking down at him in disbelief.

“what does that even-“ you cut yourself off with a loud moan, haechan licking a stripe up your pussy. you clung onto you skirt for dear life as haechan began to tongue at you. you watched on intently as his tongue moved against you expertly.

that didn’t last very long though, as the sensation of him finally paying attention to your clit again drove you back down into the mattress. you were sure the noises you were letting out now were loud enough for his dorm mates to hear, but you didn’t care. you released your hold on your skirt to grip at haechan’s hair, hips bucking against his face as he continued to suck on your clit. 

haechan let out a groan at the feeling of your nails against his scalp. he was trying to focus on getting you off. but fuck. the sight of you was practically pornographic, expression contorted in pleasure, lips wide open with continuous moans pouring from them. haechan couldn’t help himself. he began to buck his hips against the mattress, clinging on to the small amount of pleasure that was providing.

you were well and truly lost to the pleasure at this point, fucking yourself against haechan’s face in search for your release. you untangled one your hands from his hair to push the cups of your bra aside, boobs spilling out. you began to pinch at your nipples eliciting a high whine from the back of your throat. haechan watched on in amazement, growing even more turned on if that was possible. 

you were getting close, movements becoming more frenzied and desperate. haechan seemed to pick up on this. he slipped two fingers back inside of you, curling them to hit your sensitive spot just right. he felt you clenching around him, wetness dripping down his fingers and onto his sheets. that’s a problem he would gladly deal with later. you had a vice-like grip on his hair, chasing after your orgasm with little care for anything else.

your climax rushed in, suddenly clouding your senses. your eyes screwed shut as your back arched up off the bed in pleasure. haechan let out an audible whine against your clit at the way you tightened around his fingers, having to halt the movement of his own hips to avoid cumming in his pants. he helped you ride out your orgasm, only removing himself once you started letting out small whines of overstimulation. 

you fell back against his mattress with a content sigh. you watched as haechan cleaned up his fingers using his tongue. when he caught your gaze he sent a wink your way. you simply shook your head with a laugh, this in contrast to the way your thighs clenched together at the sight. when you had regained some energy you came to sit up next to him. haechan looked at you expectantly, the same smug grin he wore earlier in then day now once again on his lips.

“have i convinced you?” he asked, pressing a quick kiss against your lips. you didn’t let go get away that easy. you pulled him back in, tongue slipping into his mouth. he gladly returned your movements, letting out a groan when you backed up to suck on his tongue. after a few moments, you pulled away from him, suppressing a giggle at his disappointed expression from your separation.

“almost.” you beamed. haechan looked back at you in exasperation.

“jesus woman! what more do you need?” he whined, bottom lip coming forward in a pout. it was now your turn to smirk at him.

“lie down.” you commanded. haechan complied without much thought, lying back against his mattress. you turned to straddle his thighs, reaching forward to open up his jeans. he watched on, wide-eyed, as you pulled his jeans and boxers down simultaneously, getting them off without much help from him. you bit your lip as his cock sprung back against his abdomen, tip leaking at the lack of proper attention it had received. he let out a groan as you grabbed his cock. you shifted yourself forward, your other hand coming to align yourself with him.

once his mind came back to him, haechan scrambled to stop you. he didn’t want you to think that he had only done all of this in order to get something in return. you looked back at him confused, wanting to know why he was hesitating.

“hey, you know you don’t need to do this. i wasn’t expecting anything. i’m totally fine if you leave now. i’ll be even better than fine, i’ll be amazing, spectacular even. here, i’ll just-“ you cut him off by sinking down onto his cock. you both simultaneously let out a moan at the feeling. you relished in the feeling of haechan stretching you out, while he let out strings of curses at the feeling of you being wrapped around him. once you were fully seated, you leant forward to press a quick kiss against haechan’s lips.

“you won the bet, now enjoy your prize.” you smiled. haechan returned your expression, smiling up at you brightly. you pushed back on his shoulders to position yourself up right again. you stared down at him as you lifted up your hips before slamming them back down again. 

haechan watched intently as you rode him. the focused look on your face, the way your tits bounced against your bra with every movement, the way you frustratedly flipped your skirt out of the way when it was messing with your chosen rhythm. he loved how you were letting him see you like this. not the uptight and well put together person he always saw, but another side to you entirely. desperate and messy, doing whatever you could to get a sound of pleasure out of him.

“you look like a fucking mess.” haechan let slip. your movements faltered slightly, the comment flustering you. you weren’t normally like this. haechan always seemed to bring out different sides to you, and you were beginning to realise that you really enjoyed it.

“do you ever shut up?” you snapped back with a particularly harsh bounce. haechan let out a whine, hands coming to grip at your hips, halting your movements.

“i mean in a hot way! you look so fucking hot right now.” he clarified, worried he had accidentally offended you. in response, you rolled your eyes, hips rocking slightly on his cock in impatience.

“you still haven’t answered my question.”

“i’ll shut up if you make me.” challenge accepted. your lips came together in a mess, almost missing each other entirely. once haechan settled on sucking on your bottom lip, he began to thrust up into you. you let out a loud curse at the sudden movement, giving him the go ahead to take over.

haechan used his grip on your hips as leverage to continue thrusting into you, finally allowing himself to chase his own orgasm. his sharp and rough movement were sure as hell taking you along for the ride, finding yourself meeting his movements as you cried out in pleasure. haechan’s head came to rest in the nape of your neck, using it as a way to suppress his whines and groans.

as his movements became sloppier, you could tell that haechan was close. the feeling of you clenching around him was definitely helping that along. you felt your own release building up once again, hands coming to grip at haechan’s shoulders for leverage. nether of you were lasting much longer, and you were both perfectly fine with that.

haechan came first, groans morphing into whines, which morphed into a loud string of curses as he released inside of you. you continued to ride him, chasing after your own release. haechan let out whines of oversensitivity as you rode him to your own completion. you came with a loud moan, nails digging into his back, almost guaranteeing that there will be marks left there in the morning. 

you let out a whine as you moved off of his cock, feeling his release leaking out of you. haechan shot off of the bed, racing to get a cloth for you to clean yourself up with. you let out a lazy laugh at his swiftness, thanking him for the cloth when he handed it over. haechan pulled you into his chest when he returned to the bed, wrapping his arms around you as you nuzzled into his chest.

“so… what now?” you asked, playing with his fingers. 

“well, did i convince you that we should be together?” 

“you haven’t even taken me on a date!” you exclaimed, looking up at him with a teasing look. haechan took a moment to think it over before he shot out of bed once again, reaching for where his boxers had landed. he slipped them on before reaching for his pants, you looking at him in confusion.

“what are you doing, i’m tired.”

“too bad. get up, we’re going on a date.” you shot up in the bed in shock, looking at him like he was crazy.

“now?!”

“i’ve waited for you long enough, we’re going out now.” you let out a scoff at his suggestion. you looked down at yourself, thighs covered in bruises that your skirt barely covers, said skirt being crumpled and creased from having two sets of hands gripping on to it. you didn’t even want to think about how your hair or makeup looked right now.

“i look like a mess!” you whined, slamming your hands down onto the mattress.

“i thought i made it clear to you that i’m into that.” haechan stated, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you let out an annoyed sigh. his insistence had worked, and you were giving in to his request. 

“fine! just give me a second.” the second you attempted to walk away from his mattress your legs refused to comply, faltering and causing you to stumble back onto the mattress. haechan burst out laughing at your display, your cheeks blazing red at his reaction. 

“holy shit! i mean, i knew i was good, but i didn’t know i was that good.” haechan joked, going around the room to pick up the various clothing items of yours that had been flung around during your activities.

“god, you’re annoying!” you complained as haechan began to help you back into your clothes. he even went so far as to help you slip your shoes back on, tying and zipping them up. you watched on with a soft smile on your lips, cherishing the romantic gesture. haechan looked up to catch you staring down at him with your love struck smile. he let out a small laugh, standing up slightly so that he was now face to face with you.

“don’t act like you would have it any other way.” haechan whispered against your lips before giving them a peck. you hated that he was right, but you couldn’t help but smiled at how well he could read you. he let you go and fix your hair and makeup quickly, watching you in the mirror of his bathroom as you did so.

once you were done, haechan outstretched his hand for you to grab. you took it gladly, being pulled into his embrace. his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he guided you out of his dorm room, going on about how he was going to give you the best post-sex date you’ve ever had. you don’t think that either of you had ever had one of those before, but you weren’t gonna correct him, simply looking forward to whatever he was pulling out of his ass as a last minute plan.

and at that moment you decided that maybe liking lee haechan wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

valentine's gift masterlist main masterlist requests and asks are open!

[ryuucam]

C U GIRL!

⋆｡𖦹°‧ desperate men as exes who want u back ^_^ including toji && nanami

contains open ending (me personally i’d fold) (don’t do this irl), suggestive, drinking (toji) emotional unavailability, poor communication, brief non sexual nudity (nanami) you’re the one breaking up with them!!

notes everybody say thank u to my ex bc he wont stop dming me on ig and inspired me to do this (leave me alone)

TOJI FUSHIGURO

breaking up with him was not an easy choice. not because you were in a long term relationship - it was more like occasional hook ups and stay at home dates - but because toji can get clingy, angry, irrational. you’re not afraid of him, but alas, he is a bomb waiting to explode, and you really don’t want to tick him off. when you do break up with him, you do it over text, immediately blocking his number after. you keep telling yourself it’s the best choice. he’s no good for you, and you’re just protecting your peace. you don’t hear from him again, and in a few weeks you already put this all behind you.

toji is devastated. he wants to scream (he did that), to punch a hole in the wall out of sheer frustration and anger (he did that, too) - he’s not angry at you though, of course not. how could he? you’re so sweet, always caring for him, despite him only ever seeing you for occasional sex and cheap beer. he should’ve seen it coming: you deserve better than this. so really, toji can’t bring himself to hate you. instead, he drinks himself half to death, much to shiu’s dismain, spending most of his time cooped up in a small bar, scrolling through the blurry, messy pics of you on his phone.

while you’re healing (you’re not: you miss him just as much, but your pride is too big to handle), toji downs beer after beer, hoping to numb whatever feelings he still has for you (shame: he’s ashamed of himself. that’s why he hasn’t shaven his stubble, hasn’t trimmed his hair, hasn’t taken up any more jobs). a month, maybe two, after your break up, shiu can’t take it anymore. he’s losing clients, and he sure as hell isn’t going to be babysitting a grown man any longer. so, he shows up to toji’s small apartment (he isn’t used to staying there. your place is much comfier), and gives him a pep talk, telling him to just get his shit together, for fuck’s sake, toji just lays on his couch, barely registering his friend’s words, but he really is sick of moping around, doing nothing. something awakens in him (maybe it’s just a sense of responsibility, ever heard of that?), motivating him to clean himself up, look for his last 20, 30 bucks and getting out of the house for what feels like the first time in ages.

meanwhile, you’re at home, unaware that you’re mirroring toji’s behavior. sprawled on your couch, scrolling through your past texts and photos, chewing on your lower lip. this is all for the best, you remind yourself. so why are you sobbing your eyes out over a man who hasn’t even reached out to you? sure, you’ve blocked him, but it’s not like you would’ve minded seeing him under your balcony, asking for an explanation. it is toji you’re talking about, though. you should’ve never lead him on like that, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten so hurt over a bare-minimum kind of dude.

your train of thought gets interrupted by the ring of your doorbell. you groggily get up - it’s probably just a delivery guy. you don’t bother fixing up your appearance in the mirror (you’d just be met with a more hollow version of you, hair messy and eyes swollen). when you open the door, however, you’re met with toji’s sturdy chest standing right in your face. wait, toji? you look up, only to find his grey eyes staring right back at you, a frown on his face. he’s holding a bouquet of tulips (by the looks of it, way out of his budget), and he can’t seem to still himself.

“‘m sorry.” his voice breaks the silence. “for not comin’ here sooner. and for treatin’ you like shit.”

it’s not much, but this is the first time you’ve ever heard toji mutter an apology - a sincere one at that. your heartstrings are tugging at your chest, screaming at you to do something. you can’t do anything, vision blurred with tears you barely notice. toji is still: too afraid to move, too afraid to scare you off again. he doesn’t have to move though, because you throw yourself in his arms a few seconds later.

“you’re an asshole.” “i know, ya don’t have to forgive me, i-“ “leave me alone for now.”

so toji leaves, and comes back the day after, a new bouquet in hand. you kick him out again, and he shows up again. relentlessly. he knows he looks like an idiot, but he’s willing to stay as one if it means getting to see you. how longer can you stay mad at him?

NANAMI KENTO

after a year or so of dating nanami, he started getting comfortable with you - which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, given that he’s rather stiff most of the time, but makes him go back to his usual ways. he doesn’t hurry to get back home, doesn’t stop to get you “just because” flowers and gifts, doesn’t cuddle up with you on the couch anymore. he’s irritable, closed off, but maybe that’s just how he truly is. of course, he never raises his voice at you, but he never stops for idle conversations and such. so, after countless nights spent crying in your friend’s arms, you decide to take her advice, and just break up with him.

you do it after he’s had a long week at work, after he came back home at midnight again, barely caring enough to send you a quick text of notice (he doesn’t see anything wrong with this: you should’ve known his habits by now). you’re waiting on the couch, legs crossed and fidgeting with your hands. he takes off his shoes (he doesn’t even call out for you anymore), and makes his way in the living room. nanami asks you why you’re still up (he still cares about you), and you just look at him. “i want to break up”. he doesn’t fight - how could he?, and he just nods. he sleeps in the guest room, cold and empty, while you toss and turn in the main bedroom.

by the next day, you’re gone, and so is all the warmth left in your shared home. nanami keeps showing up at work in pristine condition, suit ironed to perfection and a neat lunchbox prepared, working full hours almost every day of the week. on his days off, when yaga literally kicks him out of the school, he doesn’t know what to do. nanami sits at the dinner table in his kitchen, arms crossed and staring into the void, not knowing what to do. a few months ago, he’d spend his days off at home with you, watching movie after movie, with you in his arms kissing him all over his face, room filled with giggles and hushed “i love you”s.

it’s over now though, and nanami isn’t a man too keen on reminiscing his past. maybe it’s time to change his habits. he knows they’re the reason you left him, and he’s very well aware that he isn’t perfect. he sighs, tangling his hands in his hair (just a few weeks ago, you’d do the same thing when you showered together. saving water, you said, but he knew better: he still humored you). his phone lights up, and he jolts out of his seat to grab it, even if the rational part of him knows you won’t do that. you have no reason to do so. he’s right, of course, but the way the threw himself at his phone made him hyper aware of how pathetic he truly is.

meanwhile, you’re in your old apartment, tearing the whole place apart. it’s a saturday evening (nanami and you used to go out for dinner on saturdays), and you’ve been waiting the whole week to do a self care night. all your products are sitting patiently on your bathroom sink, all except for that damn clay mask you bought yourself a few months ago, used once, and then forgot about it. after emptying all of your cupboards, drawers, pouches, it’s still nowhere to be found. suddenly, you feel an imaginary light bulb lightning up. you can’t actually have left that at kento’s place (your old home), right? when you left, you triple checked everywhere for your belongings. but still, you’re not going to waste money on an overpriced face mask. so you swallow your pride and drive over to his house.

it’s not like he’ll tell you no (he didn’t say that even when you broke up with him). you knock on his front door, suddenly feeling embarrassed about being here. when nanami opens the door, he feels like fainting (did he manifest you? no, he doesn’t believe in those things). “oh, hi”, you both say at the same time. your eyes are wide open, and he feels his heart rate quickening by the second. as you mutter about the reason of your visit, you can’t help but notice your face heating up, and the way he’s just so docile, so attentive while he accompanies you to the bathroom to look for.. well, whatever’s that you need. you don’t remember.

when you’re about to leave, nanami speaks up. “i’m sorry for spending so much time at the office. i know it’s my fault for the break up. but i can’t deny that i still love you. please, let me try to win you back.”

you turn around, taking in how soft his expression looks, how deep his eye bags run, how in love he looks. will you let him back in your heart? he swears he’s a changed man.

[sunrisecaminus]

Hi it's me 🌻✨️

Had this idea give me optimus prime x reader headcanons (sfw or nsfw ) :>

Message - The Prime is amazing as a lover. I need to make a tier list on who is the best conjunx.

Optimus Prime x Human Reader Headcanons NSFW/SFW

Summary - Headcanons of Optimus with his human conjunx. SFW and NSFW.

Warning - NSFW below the "continue reading"

SFW

~ You want someone who will compliment you everyday and give you their 100% attention when you talk? Well congrats, you now have Optimus as your lover.

~ Bro, this guy will worry about you if you come back to the secret base two minutes later when you said you would be home.

~ Will never let you do anything with fighting or help in war efforts. After losing so many of his friends and family, he doesn't want to lose you as well.

~ You are as valuable as Cybertron to this guy, and he will obey every command you tell him…ok almost every command. If you tell him to let you fight, he would just pet your head and tell you no.

~ Do you know how hot you are when you defend your friends or the Autobots in front of him? Optimus would just be behind you, letting you scream at some guy who insulted him or someone else. He would just be there in support, just in case it would get physical.

~ If you more of a shy person, the Prime will drop everything for you if you wanted something. Knowing you don't ask for much, he would take your demands seriously.

~ If you are the independent attitude type, that man would simp for you anytime you order someone around. He needs the Prime's responsibilities taken off his shoulders and watching you do his job has to be amazing for him.

~ Optimus is not really good with physical affection in public, but the one thing he likes to do is lay his giant servo on your body while talking with you. Holding your body was such a privilege; Feeling your curves and soft skin was everything to the mech.

~ Forehead kissing? Yes please! Either he does it to you, or whenever he is leaning down to your height, you can give him a sneaky quick peck on his helmet.

~ Have you seen an angry Optimus? Holy fuck if that guy hears anything about you being harassed, he will drive you around for now on.

~ You will know when he is angry when he doesn't reply to your questions and stays quiet. If this ever happens, you will be ok. He would never yell at you or be violent…he just needs a breather to not punt the human that gave you a hard time.

~ Nah, screw the war, if MEGATRON gave you a hard time? Welp the four million year battle just ended right there. No mercy this time.

~ If he got angry with you? First, how did you fucking manage that? Second, he would be so nice about it. Telling you he needs a break to walk outside, he would think about what to do and than come back to tell you how he feels.

~ Please give Optimus kisses, the picture of him blushing and his engine revving a little will stay in your head for years.

NSFW

~ It is about damn time to talk about this, but Optimus is a freak.

~ Now don't get me wrong guys, it would take years of a loving relationship for him to finally be able to get that physical with you…but after? Nah it is almost every week you are banging.

~ The best is when he treats you like a queen. Optimus would do anything to hear your sweet moans.

~ Would it be funny if Ratchet was the only one who knew you guys got that deep into a relationship? I feel like every Autobot and Decepticon thinks that Optimus Prime is a pure man who doesn't do anything like that.

~ Keeping that in mind, they are dead ass wrong. Optimus is very skilled with interfacing, and could do almost anything you can put your mind to.

~ He is more of the soft top, telling you if you want him to do this or that. Being gentle whenever he handles you.

~ Eating you out is one of his favorites, giving your flower its proper care was his main priority.

~ It would take some begging from you to let himself be pleasured, he almost forgets that he has a spike that needs to be taken care of. It shows you how much he really loves and cherishes you.

~ Optimus is very sensitive when it comes to you playing with his spike. Rubbing your legs up and down on it, giving him a blow job, bucking your folds on him. He would try so hard not to make any embarrassing noises from how much bliss he is feeling.

~ He will always apologize to you when he cums first. Optimus feels bad when your lower half isn't cared for.

~ Aftercare is great, but after cleaning you and taking you to his birth, he still massages around your body. Optimus will tell you how beautiful you are to him until you doze off.

[theyluvivi]

OVER THAT, OR TRYING TO BE. client!chris.

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ: angst. a shit ton.

You're smart.

You have the brain and the grades to prove it... just whatever has been in the air these past two weeks is making you feel like you're the stupidest person on earth. You don't do guys, hookups, or relationships, period for that matter. Yet here you are, sobbing hysterically into your pillow over a guy you barely know.

That's the most embarrassing part about this whole thing. You've talked at most five times, and now tears are pouring down your cheeks, and you can barely breathe.

You've tried to act like you don't care, tried open your laptop and the many assignments that are that stacking up but you can't—Every moment you don't spend thinking about him just brings you back to him. The way he looked at you, his hands on you, the way he talked to you. Nothing works or helps.

Happy music doesn't help. Weed is a temporary fix. Eating takes too much energy—And god forbid you talk to your friends about this. They warned you about him, how he makes girls fall for him and leaves them like they're nothing, but you still kissed him like it was your honeymoon.

Chris didn't leave you like you were nothing. He was nice about it, which is what makes it hurt more. You clutch at your chest, god it feels like you're fucking dying.

The only person you've told is Matt, because you physically can't tell anyone else. And for someone who plays with people's feelings, he accepted yours with open arms.

"....s' not your fault, y'know? The heart wants what it wants....and all that stuff." You let out a sad giggle. "Yeah, but it's definitely not happening, and I've heard how he is to girls, so I shouldn't even try to make it happen." You sniffle and rub at your eyes. "Kid..." He searches for anything in his thoughts to make you feel better but can't find anything. He knows how Chris is.

"Cmere." He opens his arms, far and wide for you. You don't get Matt hugs often, so immediately run into his arms. "You'll get through this... you're strong." You can tell he doesn't what he's saying, but you appreciate the effort. You nuzzle into his chest. "Thank you, Matt."

You haven't taken your shirt off since then, hoping the reminder of Matt's hug will help you calm down. It hasn't, but you can still hope.

Even over your loud cries, you can hear someone knocking at the door. You're not selling... unless it's to friends. You sit up slowly, trying to avoid upsetting the pounding headache you have already from crying even more. You run your hands through your hair. If it's a friend, they would've at least texted you so then....

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

Matt knows you're not anyway near in a suitable condition to see Chris, and he still sent him over. You bury your face in your hands as the knocking persists. You haven't looked in the mirror in days, and your eyes are probably all red and puffy... why couldn't he have come earlier when you were acting like you didn't care?

You let a soft breath, trying to breathe normally after all the hyperventilating you've been doing. You finally get up from your bed and head to the door. Pretend you don't care, pretend you don't care, pretend you don't care—Is what you repeat to yourself as you twist the knob.

You crack the door open. "M' not selling." Chris tilts his head. "Thought we got over this whole you hating me thing?" He smirks, "I also just saw Quen walking out of here."

You huff, opening the door. "Come in." You're doing better than you thought. You thought you'd see him and immediately crumble to the floor. Chris takes in your colorful apartment as you close the door behind him. "What?"

"Looks like a unicorn threw up in here." You narrow your eyes at him. " 'S a compliment...it's so... you." Your heart jumps. "I live here." You sigh, rolling your eyes. "What do you need?"

"What I always need." You don't miss the way he steps closer to you. You feel bile rising in your throat. "Can't sleep again. I need one of your fairy joints to help me." You groan. He knows it pisses you off when you he calls them that. "Quen bought the last one, sit." You gesture to the couch, "No tour?"

You scoff. "You're lucky I even let you in."

Chris is like a toddler. He refused to leave you alone, in the comfort of your own room for five minutes, so you're sitting across from him on the couch as you roll him what he apparently came for.

You're finding it harder and harder to believe that he's staring you down like you're a piece of steak, and he's starving. His hand creeps up your thigh. You want to let him get away with it, "Chris?"

"Yeah?" You finally finish rolling, your acrylics giving you a break. "You didn't just come here for this, did you?" You wave the joint in his face, a smile finding its way onto your face for the first time in days. It's a sad one.

"You sayin' something?" He smirks, you begin to crawl towards him after the placing the joint behind your ear. "And if I am?" He pulls you into his lap, and you missed that, dearly. The feeling of his hands roaming over your body. You can feel tears beginning to weal up in your eyes. This is the most pathetic you've ever felt.

It's terrible. He's terrible.. But you want it, so bad. "Mhn...then you're right." And his lips are on yours, and you expect to be rough—you want it to be rough, but it's slow and sensual just the way you need. Tears trickle down your cheeks. You quickly wipe them away before Chris opens his eyes.

His hands find their way under your shirt, slipping up to the clip of your bra. "You want this?" He asks, and you nod immediately.

It's okay if he sees you as nothing more than a quick fuck, if he doesn't care about you and only wants you for weed, if he doesn't want a relationship and just needs another girl to run to. You need this.

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizmez @sosasturns @drewswife @strnilolover @cvnts4demi

a/n: .... :(

[concretejunglefm]

Summary: Noah’s roommate, Jolly, offers to assist him in creating more authentic sounds for his spicy audio content.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Jolly Karlsson.

CW: Smut including mentions of handjob, fingering (male receiving), kind of exhibitionism, men whimpering, self dirty talk, spit, cum play, slight oral (m receiving)

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

Noah is certain that his roommate can’t hear the things he does in the privacy of his room, but the thin walls of their shared home do little to suppress the sounds that often emanate from there. Jolly has also easily stumbled upon Noah’s Reddit page, Twitter, and Patreon when curiosity got the better of him, and he even subscribed to all three platforms. Noah’s sounds are unlike anything he has ever heard before, and he can’t help but wonder what kind of roommate he would be if he didn’t offer to help him create more authentic sounds. After all, there is only so much a toy can do to bring a person to their full potential.

Sometimes, what it takes is to have the real thing.

“Are you sure about this?” Noah asks, his voice slightly quavering with nervousness.

“Wouldn’t you prefer it to sound more authentic?” Jolly asks, preparing the bed with a towel and gently patting it as a silent cue for Noah to settle in.

“Yeah…”

Jolly can sense his skepticism, and he know he’ll have to gradually warm him up before he can convince him. “Then, allow me to help you, and remember to hold onto the microphone.”

Noah, who has all the top-notch equipment available, takes his little project very seriously. He even went as far as setting up multiple microphones along his bed to capture every sound.

Noah has already provided Jolly with the fundamental concept, which is one of his typical rambling episodes where he simply records and improvises while having only a brief idea of what he needs to say to align with the theme.

Submissive Boyfriend Begs You To Let Him Cum.

It perfectly aligns with Jolly’s plan, and he can’t contain his own excitement as Noah settles comfortably on the towel, legs spread wide and bent at the knee, giving Jolly complete access to play with him.

It begins gradually, with Noah gently stroking his cock, his movements slow and relaxed as he moans into the microphone. Jolly watches him, almost mesmerized by the way his friend toys with himself, each stroke intensifying his arousal, his voice already strained and labored as he begins to play into the theme.

“Fuck, you're stroking me so well…” It’s a hidden narration amidst his own dirty talk, and when Jolly usually listens to it, he always finds himself to be both aroused and impressed. However, watching it is an entirely new experience.

Lifting his palm, Jolly spits into it before reaching for Noah’s hand and pulling it away, prompting Noah to look at him and watch intently.

Taking advantage of the moment, Noah adds the narration into his audio. “What are you… Oh, you’re spitting in your hand and… Oh, oh fuck.”

Noah’s head falls back against the pillows that have been propped up behind him, while Jolly wraps his large hand around the thick of his cock, stroking him slowly and languidly. He coats him with the spit before adding a bit more at the tip, resulting in moans being coaxed from Noah with every stroke, and this is precisely what Jolly had intended to achieve—to find that sweet spot that would make the moans sound more authentic.

“Oh, your hand feels so good on me like that. Nice and slow and mm, please. It feels so good.” Noah whimpers, his hips bucking up into Jolly’s hand. He lets out a more strained sound as he strokes over the tip, smearing his pre-cum over it. Leaning in, Jolly licks over to taste the saltiness and has to hold himself back from making his own sounds. Fortunately, the sound it draws from Noah is enough to cover any of his own, with him struggling even to comment on the way his tongue is licking him.

It requires a bit more stroking, coupled with some lube, to truly amplify the sounds of Jolly’s hand jerking on his cock. However, once they reach that point, the sounds it extracts from Noah are akin to music to his ears.

All he has is his hand on him, yet his roommate is squirming beneath him, begging and whimpering for an audience that will believe this audio is solely for them.

It’s not; this performance is for him.

With the lube and saliva already dripping down between his ass cheeks, Jolly dips down and spits against his ring. He then brings a finger up to slowly spread the mixture. His eyes briefly glint up to see the mixture of pleasure and shock etched across Noah’s features. Jolly is delighted by it and watches him closely as he slowly pushes a finger into him, listening to the sound it draws out and feels how Noah instinctively tightens to pull him deeper.

“Oh fuck J—” almost.

Noah almost utters his name, but quickly catches himself, merging the sound into a loud moan. Jolly, looking up at him from between his thighs, releases his cock and raises his finger to his lips as a playful warning; “Remember to be a good boy now.”

Slowly, Jolly begins to work his finger into Noah, stroking it along his walls and curling it deeper. He presses against Noah’s prostate as his hand returns to his cock, jerking him in tandem with the movements. The pleasure is overwhelming, and he can see that Noah is completely frazzled and struggling to continue his usual narration, becoming completely incoherent, babbling and whimpering as he starts to beg.

“I’ve been a good boy.. please... I’ll be a good boy...” Jolly, seeing him in this state, can’t help but feel a surge of arousal. His rock-hard cock throbs against the fabric of his boxers, growing wetter with each passing moment. He yearns to flip him over and fuck him right there.

Now that would be a new experience for his subscribers.

Instead, he continues his movements, leaning forward to add the addition of his mouth. He sucks on the tip of Noah's cock, swirling his tongue around it, and each time he curls his finger deep, he hears the soft whine it produces.

Noah, completely devoid of senses, clings to Jolly’s finger with a desperate grip. As his climax approaches, his cock throbs against Jolly’s hand, prompting Jolly to push him closer. Pulling his mouth away, he aims his cock towards Noah’s stomach, yearning for him to be covered in his own mess, as he steadily inserts another finger.

“A-another one?” Noah whimpers. “But I’m already so close. No, no, you’re right. You’re right. I can take it.”

He does, like the good boy he’s proving himself to be, but now he’s so close to the edge, Jolly can see it with the way his cock is leaking, coating his shaft and dripping down onto his stomach.

“Please, I’m so close. Can I cum? Please, please let me cum.” He launches into a desperate plea, not only to the audience but also to Jolly. His eyes briefly flash down to him, and he whimpers, pleading with all his might.

With a nod of his head, Jolly allows Noah to cum. He watches as Noah finally releases the tight coil that had been winding within him and his body trembles as Jolly pulls his hand away from his cock and begins to milk him with his fingers pressed to his prostate. Noah’s shaft twitches in response to the milking and every sound he makes becomes louder and more pathetically whiny than the last. It only pleases Jolly to see Noah in this state, completely milked, thick ropes of cum pooling down on his stomach.

When Jolly finally stops, he slowly slips his fingers from Noah and uses his other fingers to run through the mess on his stomach. As he reaches up towards his lips, it prompts him to speak into the microphone one last time; “You want me to wha-” Jolly cuts him off, shoving his two fingers into Noah’s mouth and making him clean them off.

The sound of sloppy sucking and muffled moans is the last thing heard before Jolly reaches for the microphone to cut it off.

“That’s a good boy, now.”

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @halfalgorithmhafdeity @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens @I-love-the-smell-of-you-blood @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades 

[reubyanne]

Batman is dead, and only Superman knows about this.

Dick parked his batwing near the fortress of solitude, wearing his cold suit, he stood in front of the fortress's door.

"i know you hear me come, Superman. please open the door, we need to talk."

nothing happened.

"Superman, i know you know where Batman is. Gotham needs him, we need him, i need him."

Superman is just standing behind the door, and doesn't want to open it, but he stays there, at least until Dick gives up and goes back.

"Superman please, i need to see Batman. i need.. to see my dad. i just want to see my dad, Superman, please."

hearing Dick's plea, Superman suddenly remembered when the boy was still 12, crying in between tall buildings of Gotham, lost the sight of the bat. first time being a Robin, he was still not used to the streets and buildings of Gotham.

Superman flies to Gotham, carrying little Dick to his chest, calming him down while he searches for Batman.

"𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥, 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥. " little Dick cries.

he flies and finally sees Batman standing there looking up to him.

"𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥–"

"𝘋𝘈𝘋!"

little Dick jumps off him to Batman's arms.

Superman opens the fortress's door. Dick can see that he's in a mess.

ok, so definitely something is wrong here.

"come in."

they walk in silence. Dick doesn't know what to ask and Superman doesn't know what to tell.

they stopped in front of a door.

"Dick i.. I don't know what to tell you because i too, confused by this accident." he sigh, "Batman is.. 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥."

Superman has to dodge and get back a few steps because Dick throws him fists.

"you're KIDDING me, Superman. he can't die. HE CAN'T DIE. NOT LIKE THIS!"

"I am angry too, Dick! he IS my best friend! my other half! I can't accept him died like this!" he holds Dick's arms, he can see tears beading in his eyes.

"open the door, Superman. open it."

"Dick i need you to calm–"

"OPEN IT, PLEASE!"

Superman opens the door, just to be greeted by Bruce Wayne in a frozen capsule, wearing a suit on top of a white flower bed. his face is calm like he's sleeping.

Dick just stares emptily to him. his dad, really lying on the flower bed like he's dead.

he can't accept this.

"i was busy wondering how i can bring him back to life but.. I don't know, Dick."

"There's a way, just like how Jason get brought back to life. The Lazarus Pit. but i don't have access to enter it."

"maybe.. your little brother could help?"

"little brother?"

Damian walks in from behind the ice walls. "Greetings Grayson," he looked at Superman eerily. ".. Kent."

"Damian? how?"

"they come around 30 minutes after you, i can hear them park the other batwing around 10 kilometers from here." Superman said.

"They?" Dick is now confused.

"the other kids, and Kon as well."

"Grayson," Damian got them back to the topic. "i can ask mother to grant me the permission to the Pit for father. she will understand."

Dick silent for a while, "i think.. at least we can try."

Part 1

[mattslilies]

✩ surprising matt on tour ✩

or: the one where you tell matt you miss him and can't wait for him to come home from tour, only to show up on the barricade of the next show <3

warnings: none! just fluff

divider credit: @/strangergraphics

your boyfriend being on tour was bittersweet. you were obviously incredibly proud of him, but at the same time, him being away for months at a time took a toll on you.

your relationship wasn't suffering from it, if anything, it was only strengthened, but you definitely still missed him. you loved seeing all the photos from the different cities along the tour, and you loved watching the friendly conversation and banter that all three triplets had with the crowd, but you did wish that you could see your boyfriend again.

texts, phone, and facetime calls could only do so much, and you could tell that matt was starting to get not only homesick, but missing you a lot as well. being a very touchy and clingy person, being away for a while bothered him too.

so, you hatched a plan.

the next stop on the tour was coming up, and it was only one state line away from you. you didn't have to work that day, so you looked into buying a ticket. you didn't tell matt about any of your plan, wanting to surprise him.

after a long phone call with nick while he was out getting food, everything was set up. you'd get to the show at the time that doors opened, and nick would make sure that you got in a little bit early, so you could be on the barricade when they came out onto the stage.

keeping the secret from matt was difficult, as you talked on the phone practically every night. you were bubbling with excitement, but had to pretend that it was about getting lunch with a friend the next day, not surprising him instead.

the drive to the venue was fun, as you had a lot of music to listen to, and you were so ready to see not just matt, but also chris and nick again. they were your best friends, and you had missed them all greatly in the past weeks.

meeting nick around the back of the venue, you smiled when you saw him leave out the back door.

"hey!"

he engulfed you in a hug, having clearly missed you.

"hey! it's great to see you guys!"

nick smiled, walking back inside, you following behind him.

"it hasn't been that long."

you raised an eyebrow, enjoying the gentle banter.

"didn't you just say that you missed me sooooo much on the phone yesterday? or was that just me hearing things again?"

laughter was heard from both of you, an easy conversation flowing as nick led you to where you needed to be.

"everyone inside has already done the VIP Meet and Greet with us, and they're in line to walk in. i probably shouldn't get you to the very front, i don't wanna draw too much attention to you, but i can get you close enough that you'll be close to the stage."

thanking him and wishing him good luck before saying goodbye, you stepped into line about fifteen people deep. sure enough, you were right in the front row.

it didn't take very long for the rest of the people to fill in, and the lights to dim, with the neon "Let's Trip" logo projected onto the stage. you couldn't wait.

the look on matt's face when he stepped out onto the stage and noticed you directly in the middle was priceless. he was stuck between a jaw drop and a smile, meaning his face was a wide grin.

he walked over to you almost immediately, leaning over.

"how did you get here?!"

you smiled, yelling back over the screams of the audience.

"i have my ways."

he shook his head, a huge smile still decorating his lips, before reaching a hand down to do the heart pose from the Meet and Greet photos with you.

despite the audience behind you, the amount that he had missed you and the joy of you being there overpowered him, and he kneeled down to face level, kissing you in front of the entire venue.

people reacted exactly how you would expect, a lot of yelling, but it was all white noise to you.

when he finally pulled back, standing up, he couldn't wipe the happiness off of his face, and it radiated throughout the rest of the show.

taglist <3

@courta13 @quinnynation @bowsandsturniolos @mqroonsturn @emely9274 @lizzyzzn @mattsbows @mattybsgroupie @sophand4n4 @leah-sturniolo @wr1tingsonthewall @sturns-mermaid @immaqulate @sweetshuga @user1smvtysturniolo @adoremattsturns @55sturn @chrisissobabygirl @backwardshatnick @jadest0ne

if you would like to be added to my taglist, click here!

[notthecutesttrash]

No Love Lost

Satoru Gojo x sister! reader

This is PLATONIC

Content: Gojo is your big brother that you hate so much. You'd do anything to get him out of your life, but he's overbearing and simply won't allow that.

Warnings: ANGST, Gojo is protective and annoying, but he's Gojo.

Word count: 7.2k

With every fiber of your being, you hate Satoru Gojo. When you wake up, you hate him, in your dreams you hate him, when you eat you despise him, and when you lock eyes with him you want to punch him.

Reading is a nice activity, your brain quiets, and at times the words come to life and vacuum yourself inside its world. Satoru was there, and you hated that he was. He's bored, and you know he is, for he has so few friends that his main time was bothering his kid sister who didn't even like him.

He's talking, and you're ignoring him, or at least trying to. He already went on a tangent about how reading was boring and how you're a nerd, but when it didn't get through he began talking about his missions. His special grade, super fun, and classified missions that he couldn't tell you about, yet you hear about every detail anyway.

"So then I went up, and this dude tried to pick a fight with me almost right away, I mean seriously, it was pathetic. He didn't even last more than a second. I mean, why go on this whole supervillain monologue if you can't even handle a punch? Of course, the punch was by me, if you punched him that'd be different. He probably would've lasted a minute."

You turned the page of your book and swung your legs over the other. Right now the main character, Elaine was brushing up against her crush, you couldn't miss this for a second.

"I can't imagine what it's like being you, a grade three? If I couldn't go on these missions, I'd probably be depressed, what's the point of being a sorcerer if you can't have any use of it in the real world?" Satoru shakes his head to himself and brushes his fringe from his eyes.

Your heart is in your throat at the scene, surely they were about to kiss. They're near each other, and she's blushing, tucking a hair behind her ear. You breathe heavily, intently reading until suddenly you're staring at your hands.

Satoru reads a blurb and gags. "I can't believe you read this stuff, god that is sad, don't you think it's time for a boyfriend?" His throw lands the book gently back in your hands, and you slightly furrow.

"There's only so much protecting I can do anyways.

You get up from your chair and begin walking. "Oh come on, don't be so lame, I'm just joking...You really do need a boyfriend though. But I'd feel sorry for whoever the poor sucker is." Satoru is following a little ways behind, his arms stretching behind him with a yawn.

Words fall from your lips, wrapped in a harsh tone. "I don't like annoying people. Go away."

"Speak for yourself, you and Utahime are practically besties." Satoru reaches your pace, walking beside you.

Your eyes roll. "Well, Utahime doesn't piss me off. And she has respect, for that matter."

"Why all the hate, lil sis? I'm just trying to help you." Satoru grins wide, giggling like a jerk. He wasn't, he never was, he just wanted to make you mad.

In fact, as kids, it was even worse. Your mother surely favored him since he was so special, he had one amazing ability, let alone 2. His glowing eyes always reminded you of that when you sat and ate dinner across another.

Then whenever you wanted to play, and he would repeatedly say no and to play with your stupid dolls, you'd have to go crying to mom just to get a little bit of fun. Then when you'd be stuck with Satoru during ball, he'd throw your way so hard, if you didn't dodge it would've wiped your head clean off. When it'd disappear, like always, he'd shrug and go "Looks like we can't play."

When you were readying yourself to go on a stroll one day, he walked out and asked what you were doing. You were tying your shoe laces and you paid him no mind until done. Letting yourself hit the floor, you smiled and said "Going for a walk."

Before you could even make two steps, he flat-out said "No." You turned to him, narrowing your eyes.

"What do you mean, no?" You emphasized, annoyed.

"As in, no, you're not going for a walk, because you can't." Satoru was stoic, and his eyes simply glowed at you.

You crossed your arms. "And why can't I?"

"Because I forbid it." He said matter of factly.

You laughed dryly at that. "Oh pardon me, I didn't know you were dad. Yeah, I don't think so, I'm going for a walk. I know it hurts to see me have fun, but suck it up and deal with it, just like I do every day."

He stayed quiet for a moment, and you met his gaze bravely, both unwavering. The level of anger rising in your chest was surreal, who did he think he was? Then he turned and went back inside and you scoffed and said "Didn't think so."

It was only a few moments that had passed before your mother and father dragged you back, exclaiming in worry that you were unfit to do these things. You saw Satoru on their side, staring at you when you tried to reason with them.

"It's just a walk! Are you serious? You let Satoru go on walks almost every day!" You were gesturing angrily with your words at this point, and your mom sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"That's because Satoru is strong, (Y/n), he inherited the limitless and six eyes, what if something happened while you were on your own? We'd have no way of knowing, and you wouldn't be able to handle it." She smiled a little as if hoping you'd just understand suddenly, that realization would hit your mind and you'd go "Ah okay." But instead, you were glaring at your brother, a fury gnawing at your clenched jaw.

"I hate you." You said before walking off, and you remember your parents gasping and saying how rude that was, and to come back and apologize at once. Satoru didn't say anything, he didn't follow your steps or track you.

You ignored them. The two people who were supposed to advocate for you, the two people who could really say something and let you do whatever you wanted. But they never did, he always said something about how "dangerous" anything was and swayed them instantaneously.

That was the first time you said it.

As a kid, you would even throw out, "I'm never going to speak to you again!" over and over until it never meant anything. But it does now.

You slammed your door as hard as a child can muster and repeated to yourself until then that you would hate him forever.

The next memory that you thought of so vaguely, was when you were on a date with a man you really liked. Maybe it wouldn't have worked, but you didn't know that then.

You sat across him, having several good conversations after another, and a few times he made you genuinely laugh. Whenever he spoke, you absorbed into his words like you were reading. Whenever he laughed, you laughed, whenever he smiled, you smiled. It was infectious.

Your concentration broke soon enough as you heard a chair screeching against the floor of the restaurant. Others stared in disdain, annoyed at the sudden intrusion to their ears. You didn't even want to look. Somehow, you had a feeling, you didn't know how, but you just did.

When you turned, Satoru was there, pressing his chair uncomfortably close to the table, and turning it towards him, so he could sit and lean his arms against the back of it. His jaw rested against the top and he watched you two with a sudden grin.

The heat of shame enveloped your cheeks and soon made your hands stammer with discomfort. Your date blinked awkwardly at him, and you held your forehead in your hands, scared of what he was going to say.

"Hey lil sis," he grinned, eyeing the man across you. Eyeing was an understatement, he was flat out making him uncomfortable, and your date shifted in his chair as gently as he could without arousing suspicion.

You wanted to argue right then and there if not for that man, you wished so bad you did.

"So tell me, what brings you here?" Satoru flat out asked, his face inching uncomfortably close to your date. The man scooted a little away, clearing his throat. Safe to say, he didn't know how to respond, naturally you wouldn't have either, especially not in front of your crush and their sibling.

Before he could even get a full response, Satoru started weirdly quizzing him. From "Gotta job?" to "Top 3 favorite movies, go!"

Your hand was gripping your fork tight, and the rage had you shaking in your seat as you watched him try to familiarize himself. Your food was becoming chopped liver, and he barely cared that this was breaking your boundaries by a long shot. He couldn't have just done this at any other moment, or simply have had the decency to ask.

"Let's say someone held a gun to your head, just figuratively speaking of course," Satoru leaned in albeit an obvious discomfort in your date "Would you hide? Run? Beg? Or would you fight?" When there was no answer he continued.

"Or you think you'd throw her in the crossfire to get some protection and cower behind her like a little girl?" Satoru's tone was a little less playful, and he lifted his shades. The blue of his eyes shone and sparkled.

"Um.." Again it was silent, and Satoru opened his mouth for another question, maybe even a rude comment for all you knew.

"Satoru." You made eye contact with him, your furrowed brows knitting tight, the flush in your cheeks burning. He returned your expression with a grin.

"What? These are important questions," he leans in close to the man again, narrowing his lids just a little, as if threatening. "I'm just trying to get to know you better." He pushes on the back of the chair, his cheek pressing at the intricate design.

Silence spread at the table, and your brother stared at the man intently, watching every little move and probably determining his entire future in one go. Eventually, it proved to be enough, and your date coughed a little and gently placed his napkin down. He was staring at you like a meek little prey, begging for your help, but you just ignored him, stabbing at your food in an upset, and managing to take a few bites while ignoring the scene completely.

"I think... I should go.." He stood and hesitated, pondering if he should say anything else, perhaps an "I'll call you later," or "It's okay," but instead he just nervously nodded at Satoru and walked off. You knew it was going to happen, and finally, you stopped eating, feeling a sickness in your stomach.

Satoru observed him until the moment he ultimately walked out of that door and was gone completely. "What a letdown, the guy didn't even have a decent movie to pick when I asked, how lame-" he kept talking, and talking, and talking, and you sat there, silent, glaring holes into your meal, your sweaty hands just shaking.

You whispered to yourself, "Unbelievable."

"I know right? Dude is definitely the type to run for his life if anything happened, and worse he can't even see curses, how do you expect him to do anything then? I can't be with you all the time you know, what if a grade 1, or worse a special grade appears, what do you do with a loser like that?"

You politely leave your fork at the side, and with all the fury coursing through your veins, somehow in a split second, your food is thrown at Satoru. It didn't hit him, but that wasn't the point, and he finally stopped.

You rummaged through your bag furiously and threw cash on the table before getting up to leave.

"You're unbelievable."

These thoughts always played in your mind as he walked in front of you, walking backward nonchalantly and smiling like a dork. You stopped and stared at him for a while, annoyed, and he refused to gather a hint. Eventually, through his words, you spoke, forcing him to stop.

"I hate you." Those words left your lips, and Satoru stood still allowing you to walk past him.

The more you walked, the less he followed, and finally you found yourself being completely alone and in a peaceful silence. You entered your dorm, curled yourself into a ball on your bed, and continued reading for the rest of the day.

The next morning you'd have a mission all to yourself, and you'd prove to him that you didn't need his help.

You were forming a veil over an old graveyard. The wilted grass crunched beneath your feet, and you paced quietly past dated tombstones. A gust of wind brushed against your warm skin. Naturally, your weapon tilted in response, and you held it tight with a clammy grip. Grade 4 curse or not, a tightness in your chest prevented you from feeling fearless.

A flicker of blue appeared and vanished at your side, and instinctively you whirled your head to an empty space. It was quiet save for your small breaths, and your fingers trailed against one of the icy tombstones. A groveling noise alerted you. Harsh jarring cries and your head was whipping around to find its location.

"Mom, why'd you have to die.." A sad slurred voice mumbled, and when you turned to your right, you found it. A mass amalgamation sitting at a grave and cradling its oversized puffy legs to its giant irregular head.

"Oh Mom," it trailed again, its voice tuning in and out. You got into a readied stance, and it wasn't even paying attention to you. Blood lurched from its eyes, peeling from its lips as giant fingernails ripped its skin down.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a small knife and pitched the blade towards the curse, hoping it would get its attention.

The creature made a drawled-out long moan when It poked its skin and fell to the ground with a thud. The head rotated to you with a sickening twist, and your eyes met for a long beat.

Suddenly a sharp jab smacked you in the side and sent you flying. Your back fell to the floor and with a grunt, you instinctively touched your ribs that squealed in pain. Weapon still in hand, you forced yourself to stand and ready yourself.

The curse moved like goo, jiggling with every movement it made, and leading a path of slime in its wake. Rushing towards it, you swung your blade and carved a deep cut inside its abdomen. Dodging an attack, you did the same towards its back and jabbed your foot into its spine.

The creature tripped and caught its balance in time to turn around and swing at your cheek. Again you bounced on your back and slammed into the ground. Its heavy steps stomped and slushed against crinkled grass. Exhaling a grunt, you pressed your hand into your ribs and forced yourself to stand. You weren't going to go down that easily.

Its large fist aimed at your chest, and you rushed away just in time to press your shoe hard against the back of its knee, making it moan and falter. Your other hand sliced at its skin just barely before it spun and it attempted to land you square in the jaw.

You moved, and it repeated into a trade of jabs and cuts until eventually it found an opening and swung its knee into yours, making you reactively grab it. You were swept off your feet, this time slamming your side against a tombstone.

Groaning, you tried to get up while the curse strolled to you. Blood seeped and poured down its leg, and it seemed a bit slower. It didn't seem right, all of your hits and deep stabs should've killed it by now.

"Oh, mom.." Its drawn-out words made their way to your ears once more, blood cascading down its mismatched eyes. Exhaling a sigh, you pulled your weapon closer, waiting for it to be near.

Slicing your blade into its eye, it cried out, screeching and flailing like a child. It held its damaged eye like a human and wept, repeating its earlier phrases. Growling, you punched it while it was distracted, and although you knew not to test the unpredictability of its limbs, you got greedy. All it took was for one of its hands to beat into you and your body met with a tree.

With all you've done to it, it was too focused on weeping its tears while walking to you so casually, it was insulting. Your hands pressed against the ground, and your ribs ached at the movement. It was coming closer and closer, and you were doing everything you could to stand up.

Just one last time body, one last time and you'd handle it. Mustering all your strength into your legs, you forced them to stand. You were going to do this.

Your eyes met up with the curse again, and it dripped while walking towards you. You found a plan this time. The liquid poured into the grass, its skin peeling like a fruit. You knew what to do. You got into position and held your breath, waiting.

It got a few steps closer.

Waiting.. waiting... waiting... now!

Your muscles were about to break into a sprint, and before they could do that, it stopped.

White hair. Satoru appeared in front of you like some twisted guardian angel, and before you could respond, the curse was blasted away instantaneously. Just like that, all of your work to nothing.

The silence was loud, and what felt like a minute passed before Satoru muttered an annoyed, "What a stupid mistake."

A rage rushed to your head, and your skin was already beginning to burn. Satoru rotated to you and began checking a small bleeding gash on your forehead. You didn't even know what to say, you were dumbfounded and blinded with emotion.

"Man I'm gonna kill those old geezers," he sighed exasperatedly.

"Are you serious?" You asked quietly, more to yourself than anything.

Satoru pulled back to get a read on you, "huh?" He seemed confused.

"Are... you serious?" You emphasized one more time, this time to him. Your eyes were wide, peering into his own.

"I sure as hell am, what were they thinking? Putting you on a grade 2 mission? I think the age is getting to their head—"

"It was a grade four." You reasoned as calmly as you could muster.

His expression gave you a past image of you as children. The way he'd look at you when you were annoyed and just didn't care.

"Grade 2," He stated.

You grumbled, "What are you talking about?"

"Those idiots thought it was a grade 4 and put you on the mission, they could've gotten you killed." He seemed genuinely irritated, as if saving you was so annoying.

"I was handling it just fine," you reasoned. Grade 2 or not, you were going to get it.

He scoffed at that and fell into a more relaxed position. His demeanor turned half playful, but you knew him well enough that he was hiding his anger. "Like hell you were, look at you. What was your big plan there, run him around just out of touch and wait until he trips on his own slime and finish him off there?"

When you didn't answer, he laughed, his hand pressing against his forehead, pondering the idiocy. "You're not serious are you?" He snickered dryly, shaking his head. His blue spheres were blown out as he thought of what he was going to do to those guys back at Jujustu.

You turned to the side, a mix of shame and anger hitting you admitting that it was close to your plan. "I didn't need your help okay, grade 2 or not, I'm a grade 3, I can handle-"

"No, you can't." This time Satoru was serious, and he was scowling. "You should barely even be a grade three, the only reason you are is because I felt pity and spoke up about it. I know you can't handle it, and I should've never expected you to."

The way your lips spread in a gasp had your comeback quieting. "What..?" You just barely whispered, and when you continued, your words croaked out like it was the hardest thing to say. "But I am a grade three, I worked for that, I practiced.. every day."

You inhaled a deep shaky breath at the thought, but at remembering that this was just Satoru, who never believed your accomplishments anyway. You seethed, "I am, you just don't think I am, you always think I'm weak." Your voice was starting to rise, and you were losing yourself in a fit of anger and nearly stomping like a kid in a tantrum and jabbing your finger at his chest.

"That's because you are lil sis, do you think without my help all these years you'd really be alive right now?"

That sentence made you growl, and he thinking that the conversation was done, started casually walking away like nothing. He was not going to get away, not this easily, not without any repercussions just like every single time.

"What is your fucking problem?!" Your shout made him briefly pause.

"My problem?" He asked like you were crazy. Satoru makes his way back to you, watching how you wince at the throb in your bones, yet still somehow find a way to gesture at him.

"My problem? My problem is that I can't walk away for 10 fucking minutes and leave you alone to get some peace, instead, I'm stuck babysitting for the rest of my life."

"And you think I want you to babysit me? You think I don't want some freedom? You know what... if I die... I die, that's it, end of the story, and better yet, if I die and you had the power to stop it, don't ever feel bad," you laugh sharply, not even thinking before your words at all.

"Because when I'm about to die, I don't want to see you, and even when I'm dead, I don't want you 10 feet near my fucking grave."

It became quiet for a still moment, and the air felt tense. There was a lump in your throat, but you were so filled with resentment you couldn't stop.

"Mom and Dad aren't here right now, it's just you and me, and you think that because of that, I'm grateful to have you here? That because you're a special grade and I'm the weak little sister that you feel like I'm a civilian under your wing? Just.. fuck you, I'm tired of you. I'm tired of you in my goddamn face acting like we'll ever be friends, not with how you treated me as a kid. Not how you treat me now." By the end of your rant, you were practically panting in a fit of rage, your face beet red, and your index still pressing into his chest.

Satoru was quiet, unreadable, and again, just like when you were kids, he had that face that looked as if he didn't care, or as if he knew he was right. You inhaled sharply in an attempt to relax.

"You.." you started again, and already knowing where this was going to end up, tears were forming, and the tightening of your throat made it impossible to speak without a sob leaving.

"You're supposed to love me.." You barely managed to utter, a few cracks in your sentence. His form visibly slumped, and his jaw clenched. You turned your back to him and crossed your arms, a heavy pout turning your lips. You made a move to walk away, and Satoru's hand tugged at your shirt.

He pulled you over his shoulder effortlessly and held you there tightly. It wasn't like you to not flail around and smack him flat in the shoulder, but you stilled. Your rib hurt anyway, and the last thing you wanted to do was break it. That wasn't really the reason why. You gave up, but you couldn't let anyone know that.

He started walking, and because he wasn't able to see, a few tears fell, and you wiped them away before it became a storm.

The walk was silent, and Satoru hardly ever is. But you knew he must've been mad, and admittedly that felt worse. This is just how it was. It's like nothing ever changed in this moment.

In an effort to get yourself comfortable, as much as could be, your body seared with discomfort, and you limped with a sigh. You're tired. You think a nap after all this would do you good.

Your lids gently closed, the swarming headache stinging a little less.

Satoru could feel you sleep, and his hand pressed tighter against your legs in fear you might fall. He knew he wouldn't drop you, he wouldn't drop anyone, not with his strength alone, but he worried and told himself, just in case.

When you woke up the next day, your injuries were all wrapped up. Bandages stretched from your back to your front, and when you tried to get up, it hurt your sides like hell. Laying back down, you sighed, studying your ceiling fan that very lightly circled.

Upon notice, you saw that at your side above the nightstand, there was a stack of books. Not many that you haven't read, and plenty your type. Gently reaching out so as not to strain, you very slowly pulled one into your lap. It was a red hardcover with light pages that had a maximum of a few hundred.

After reading the first few in your boredom, your teeth were already dragging your bottom lip in anticipation. And when you placed it down for a break, you surveyed your room. The blinds were shut tight as if someone was afraid that light might force you from your slumber.

Again, you forced yourself to get up, ignoring how your sides ached. Your legs were shaking once your feet hit the floor, and they were so sore it felt like stone. An incoherent grumble left you once you got off the bed. Pressing your hand into your ribs, you found yourself shouting when you attempted to make a step.

In an instant, your door slammed open, and Satoru stood for a few seconds, watching how you leaned your hand against the nightstand to balance yourself.

"Are you stupid or something?!" He shouted, and before you could even answer he had you sitting down forcefully and his hand held you there when you tried to push your weight to stand again.

Groaning, you smacked his hand away, "Leave me alone Satoru, I can do just fine." Usually with that, he would drop it, but it remained, and you shot him a dirty look.

"You're not moving until they say you can move, so lay back down." Your scowl persisted, and you were mentally jabbing holes into him.

Satoru gave you a look he had never given you before. He glared so darkly that you wavered. His hand pressed your shoulder down and he gently lowered your upper half so you wouldn't feel pain.

"And what am I supposed to do? Sit here for 3 months staring at the ceiling?" Huffing, you complied and laid down in a decent position.

"That's why I got you books." Satoru tapped at them. "All the gooey, mushy, trashy romantic books you can want," he went back to joking, but you didn't respond. You surveyed him while he fluffed your pillow, and folded sheets over your body.

His eyes crinkled just a little bit more, the blue of his eyes was unsettled, and his lips pouted just slightly. "Did you sleep?" You asked. He raised a brow as if it was a dumb question.

"Obviously, why?"

You hummed. "Nothing." Then added, "So when can I get up?" You made sure to add some spite to that sentence.

"Until I say so." He responded, and just because of that little authority he always managed to pull out, you scoffed, unable to hide the irritation. You left it at that, and it was quiet for a few minutes as he still kept organizing your sheets.

Neither of you met each other's glance, and it was a swift match on who could advert the fastest when found. Eventually, the tense silence was broken, and he spoke.

"I know you hate me, you're annoyed, but I don't care." You peeked up at him, then glared at your wall.

You grumbled under your breath, "You never did."

Satoru didn't respond this time, and when he was finally done fixing your sheets, he made his way to your door, then as he was about to close it after him, he declared, "I always did," then left.

Rolling your eyes, you spun to your good side and faced the wall, all your thoughts about your past rushing to you.

Your mother politely dragged a knife through her steak and with each portion, she lifted it to her lips so calmly and ate, dabbing her handkerchief to her lips after. Why couldn't you do that? She looked so graceful, and you just wanted to copy her, but when you tried the knife kept bouncing off the meat and dragging loudly against the plate.

Grumbling, you tried again, and your steak nearly flew out. The anger overtook your small little hands that pounded at the table in respite. Again you tried, and when it didn't work you frowned.

Satoru let out a small sigh and removed himself from his seat. His hand grabbed at the knife and he pulled your plate to his angle and began slicing perfectly little thin pieces. The meat was tender, red, and juicy beneath its skin, and when he even offered you a portion, you opened your lips and chewed it with a pout. You were mad, so mad, but the steak was delicious, and you couldn't erase the shame of not being able to just do this one thing for yourself.

"Do you like it?" He asked, and you mumbled a yes as he fed you another slice. If you didn't, he'd have someone instantly prepare it again after all. Eventually, he sat, and you glared at your plate, glancing between him and your parents who so nonchalantly ate. His face was stoic, and you were sure he was annoyed.

After a while of contemplating if you should eat the rest, you did, all with disdain.

You practically finished a book within 3 days. You laid it at your side and studied the ceiling. There wasn't anything interesting about it, nothing new, no curves, grooves, or chips. Your eyes were drooping, falling ever so slightly at every circle the fan revolved in.

On your bookshelf, there was a small activity book, one of those that you write in and play little games like word searches and whatnot. You kept it there for a while, probably had it since you were 12, but you needed to do something besides just laying here and only occupying your mind.

Satoru isn't here, and he won't be for a while doubtfully. It's been 3 days, that's still better than day 1, so surely you can just get up and pluck it from its bond. Or, you could just wait until he was back, and ask for it. But then he might be offended that you didn't care to read the books he brought for you, and besides, you didn't want to harm your pride by even showing you needed the slightest bit of help.

Were you that petty? Yeah.

Lifting your upper half, a throb rang in your side, and despite this, you planted your feet firmly on the ground. You bit back the grunts and mumbles and made your way to the shelf. Once you were there, you heaved a few breaths, already feeling winded. Your heart was stammering, but you just had to grab it.

It was on the tallest shelf, of course, it was, and you stood on your toes. Your calves were hard and tightened to stone, leaving you anchored to the floor. Cussing, you pulled all your weight and attempted to touch just the top before your finger slid off and fell.

Your teeth were gritting, and you again tried, fingers shaking at the attempt. A hand touches your arm, gently guiding yours down before it reaches out and grabs the book for you, just effortlessly. Your feet drop, and the wince that follows is inevitable.

"You're really doing this again?" Satoru asked, his voice holding a familiar irritation.

You swat his hand away and turn to walk back on your own. "I don’t need you to play nurse. I’m fine, okay?"

Satoru raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he watches you. “You’re not fine. You’re barely standing.”

"It was just to get a book Satoru, relax. Did you think I was going to go outside and start jogging?" Your sarcasm always rose with the frustration, rooting you in place. He wasn't going to allow you to stand with your injuries for the sake of mindless arguing, so first he shut you up and swept you off your feet like some bride.

Huffing, you flicked at his chest with your index and thumb, rolling your eyes. "Can you stop treating me like I'm a porcelain doll? The bed is right there, I did fine getting up by myself." Satoru laid you down gingerly, even did so much as flipping your pillow so you could feel cool. Still refusing to answer, he checks your bandages and when he confirms they're still fine, he pushes your legs down and forces your body to relax whether you want to or not.

“I’m not treating you like anything. But you're not getting up, and I’m not watching you hurt yourself over some stupid pride,” he retorted.

There's a minute of silence, and you're adverting your gaze out of pure pettiness. Satoru sat beside you, the weight easing the mattress down.

“You can be mad all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re stuck here for a while,” he said, a small lingering softness in his tone. He places the book you wanted by your side, and you open your mouth just partially.

You glance at him from the corner of her eye and a wave of irritation hits you. You aim to voice something sharp but don't. Instead, you lay back against the pillow and cross your arms.

"I don't want your help.." you mumbled. The thought of stupid scenes like him cutting your steak, or intervening on your date rushes back. You want to hate him so much, you really do.

He never stops hovering and making everything about him, pushing his help on you when you never needed it. You hate the idea of him thinking you can’t handle things on your own. You're not helpless.

But no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you want to shake him off, he’s always there. Always trying to protect you, and always being there before you could even let yourself fall.

"I'm still here though, whether you want it or not," he declared, and a heavy pout formed.

You mumbled, "Yeah.. whatever.." A moment passes, and you flicker your glance more to the side, holding your arms tight against you. "Can you get me a pencil..?" Satoru laughs, genuinely.

"Gonna draw out all your frustrations?" He asks smugly.

"I'm going to draw me stabbing you." You joke, biting back a laugh that makes you grin wide. You still weren't meeting his gaze, but his grin was returning, and he knew it was a joke.

"Show me when you're done, I'll give you a gold star and put it on my fridge." Satoru chuckles, and the laugh you are holding escapes.

"Shut up." You shake your head, rolling your eyes. "Go away, I want to read now."

Satoru nods, and the weight disappears at your side.

By the fourth week, Satoru was giving you your space. It didn’t mean he wasn’t eyeing you carefully whenever you stood or walked around, but he didn’t fuss over every little thing as he did at first.

You sat by the window, your arms draped over your knees. The frown on your face deepened, the weight of it pressing into your forehead as you gazed longingly at the outside world.

"You could at least try reading some of the books I got you," Satoru teased, a playful edge in his voice, though the tension between you two lingered. "I had to stand there for over an hour, hearing women gush about them."

You stared at a pretty blue jay that landed atop a branch, a tiny bit of envy stirring in you.

"I already read two and a half," you huffed, pressing your palm to your cheek. But really, your thoughts were elsewhere, on the world outside. The need to be out there gnawed at you, like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Satoru grinned yet he made sure to keep his distance, knowing your patience had a limit. “Well, that’s a good start. Could be three soon enough.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you studied the window, your thoughts swirling like a storm. His words barely registered. Satoru noticed how your gaze followed the blue jay as it flew away, the disappointment turned your features.

After a moment, he stood from the chair, his gaze softening as he studied you, quiet for a second longer than usual. Then, he gestured toward you. “Come on, let’s go.”

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. “To where exactly? The wall?”

Satoru just chuckled, but his eyes were serious. “Outside. Smart ass, come on.”

You froze, before rushing to your feet with a gasp, excitement mixing with a usual rush of nerves. His hand found your shoulder just as you moved, his touch warm but firm, and he forced you to sit down. “Relax, not like that. If I see you running, I’m dragging you right back inside.”

You huffed, a sudden irk clenching your jaw, "why are you always like this?" You grumbled, shooting him an exasperated look.

"Because if I wasn't, you'd be so stubborn that you'd end up recovering in 12 weeks instead of 8." A pout befell you. That was true, but you didn't need him to say it.

Satoru flicked you, "Don't be a brat, if you're gonna drill holes at the floor, do it outside and sulk there."

"I'm not sulking," you bit your cheek, "and I'm not being a brat."

Satoru laughed, patting your shoulder. "Right, that's hilarious, now go before I change my mind." Despite his playful tone, his grasp was a little reassuring.

"Well, I still don't need you hovering over me," you pointed out.

He took a step back, tightened his grip only momentarily, and spoke firmly, "Well I'm not asking for permission."

Scoffing, you got up and forced yourself to walk to the door. Your hand stretched out, fingertips touching the knob and lingering at the cold that hit you. It took a while before you could really place your hand over it fully and use force to turn it. Upon opening, you felt happy, a realization hit you, and it was like your feet were anchored in nerves.

Satoru waited patiently, and you glanced back at him, unsure. Was he going to close it or lead you around like you were a scared puppy? When you blinked at him, he smiled warmly, and you bit your lip. It almost felt like a test.

You stepped out quietly, pausing for a few seconds. The breeze hit you once you crossed the threshold, and you hadn’t realized how much you missed the plush green grass and the pretty flowers at Jujutsu. Tears brimmed at your eyes, and you wiped them quickly away.

Satoru followed, stopping a few feet away and leaning against the wall as he watched you. You wanted to run, to rush out and scream, to release every frustration you had buried. But instead, you stood there, taking in the moment. It was so peaceful.

You sat at the edge of the porch, your feet hanging off the steps as you watched the grass sway in the wind. The purple flowers pressed together, moving in unison as the breeze swept through. The sun’s gentle rays warmed your skin.

Satoru took a seat beside you, giving you just enough space to not disturb the quiet. You turned to him, smiling, and at that moment, you knew it would be okay. He returned your smile softly as if he understood too.

It was quiet for many minutes, maybe even an hour, as you sat there and stared at the sky. You watched as lazy clouds transitioned slowly, drifting across the blue. Your chest felt warm, and you let your feet dangle freely.

Satoru’s eyes flickered to the sky for a moment, but they didn’t linger. He was tired—too tired. The dull ache behind his eyes told him everything. The weight of the silence pressed against his shoulders, and a noticeable slump in his posture gave away the fatigue that settled in like a heavy blanket.

He could feel your gaze on him, and for once, he didn’t want you to see him like this. He would never admit it, but his breaths grew shallow. He was starting to droop.

You touched his shoulder lightly, and he blinked up at you. "You should sleep. I'll be fine."

His expression softened for just a second, a hint of gratitude breaking through the usual guise. A small sigh escaped him, but he quickly masked it with a forced grin.

"What makes you think I’m falling asleep?" he scoffed, trying to convince both you and himself.

You softly sighed, a frown tugging at your lips. "Just go to sleep. You've earned it."

A wave of guilt washed over you, and you tried to mask it with a quick smile. He caught it, and a warm, unguarded grin spread across his face.

There was a quiet understanding between you both. The calmness of it was new, and you didn’t realize until now just how much it meant.

You turned back to the scene, watching as the sun slowly settled, the warmth leaving your skin in the waning light. You could hear Satoru press back against the wall and release a gentle, tired breath. His eyes closed, and when you turned to look at him again, you saw the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.

You sat close, leaning against the wall beside him and closing your eyes to sleep. For once, you felt an unwavering peace beside him, and you wanted nothing more.

[nowoyas]

koi no yokan 43: 8 october

First - Prev - Next (coming 3/8!) - M.list 1-30 - M.list 30-60 - Ao3

A/N: sorry for the missed update last week--something something author's curse. we should be back on track moving forward!

Summary: October 8th is Sports Day. You have plenty to worry about.

Warnings and Tags: blanket series warnings

Words: 2300+

Sports Day used to be fun. The energy, the chance to show off, no classes to sit through.

This year, of all years, it fucking sucks.

That's what happens when you're participating, apparently. The universe likes to play sick jokes, so on Asuka Chouji's first day back from suspension, he's forced to watch you run a damn competent relay race while he hangs out on the sidelines with a broken thumb and a black eye and his friends pretending like they're not laughing behind his back.

Worse, he's forced to watch you make your way to watch the club relay—of course you'd be front and center, watching the boys from the volleyball club. Somehow, the bitch Nishinoya has made her way over to join you and the two other volleyball managers, an arm slung over your shoulders. He can't help but watch you interact—smiling, rolling your eyes, looking bright in a way you never looked with him, like he wasn't fucking trying to make you happy.

But you're happy over there, watching the volleyball guys in the relay. The younger Nishinoya, your non-negotiable, is running in it, as are a couple first years, though not the ones from Chouji's class. You're laughing at something the bitch Nishinoya said, laughing harder when the redhead runs past the other volleyball first year and both of them run like idiots, like they don't know how relay races work. You're exasperated but smiling when your club gets disqualified for it.

And the bitch Nishinoya touches you the whole time.

"Dude, you are not taking your eyes off [surname]," Matsumoto says, elbowing him harshly. "Are you gonna tell us what happened or just keep staring at her?"

Chouji rolls his eyes. "Do you really think I wanna talk about it?"

"I mean, what I heard was that you started a fight and she completely fucked you up, and then got away with a slap on the wrist. Lost the fight, lost the girl, lost your season—"

"She was cheating on me," he snaps. "Alright? She cheated."

The words surprise even him, but now that he's said it, not only does it feel right, it feels good. The way you immediately jumped to your non-negotiable best friend's defense with a fist and a rage he'd never expected. The way you directed all your concern his way last week, like Chouji hadn't been standing there with a broken thumb and blood running down his face. The way Mr. Non-Negotiable looked at you, immediately proposing, and the way you took it in stride, like you were relieved at being asked to marry him.

Yeah, it makes sense.

"Dude, did you hear me? I asked with who."

"Nishinoya," he says.

Matsumoto chokes on his water, spluttering when he manages a response. "That third year?"

That third year ruffles your hair, and you press into her touch like an affectionate cat. You push her back after a moment with a downright flirty smile, and the other first-year manager looks insanely flustered, and suddenly, he remembers just how fiercely protective she'd been of you, the way she'd laughed in his face, all the threats if he got closer to you.

Oh.

Ohhhh.

"No, dude, there's two," one of the other guys from his club, Kirijo, says. "She's got a little brother in the volleyball club. The dude who was just running with the bleached hair."

There's two Nishinoyas. There's two, and both hated him, and Nishinoya Satsuki was twelve hours away from showing up at his house and breaking his hand if he hadn't done it himself.

As he opens his mouth with a reply on his lips, he wonders what, exactly, it meant that the older lesbian Nishinoya kept you so close at hand.

~

So you survived Sports day. It had only been a problem in the first place because your classmates signed you up against your will—we just need one more person, come on, [surname]-chan, you can run one lap for our class, we've seen you in gym class—so you were forced into netting a solid third place for your class. (No fighting that one—half the first years in the track and field club are in 1-1, so even after they spared their best for the club relay, they had it more or less in the bag.)

Your classmates are getting used to the baleful glares you now shoot everyone except Yachi for subjecting you to that, and more importantly, it's Tuesday, which means tomorrow is Wednesday, which means tomorrow is the tenth.

Which means tomorrow is Noya's birthday.

For all your plans with Satsuki, what you settled on is hardly grand—not that you could tolerate some overly grand gesture. You'll part ways with Noya after practice tonight and spend the night getting everything prepared and out of the way. In the morning, you'll wake up an extra two hours early to make sure everything's ready and be on Noya's doorstep ten minutes before he normally shows up at your door in the mornings.

That'd been the plan, anyway. Sure, your nerves are brewing, but that's to be expected—part of the reason you're going out of your way to do something for him is because you were challenged to do it by Dr. Mifune, and you were challenged because it makes you want to eat an oil painting to get out of it. So you're not really sure why Satsuki texted you right at the start of the lunch, beckoning you to her classroom to talk.

When you arrive at her classroom, she's not even there. You're starting to think that she's fucking with you as Suga takes notice of you.

"Oh, [surname]-chan," he says as he and Sawamura approach. "What's up?"

"I was looking for Nee-san? She texted me saying she needed to talk to me, but I don't see her?"

Like magic, Nishinoya Satsuki teleports behind you. "Hi! [name]-chan! Glad you could come, sorry I got held up—this's Hitomi-chan."

The girl standing beside her waves awkwardly. You vaguely remember Satsuki mentioning a Hitomi-chan, Asuka's older sister in an annoyed tone from when she found out about that whole deal, and now that you've made the connection, you can see the resemblance. You cringe before you can stop yourself. "Oh. Uh, hi. This is awkward—Nee-san, does she—"

"She knows the situation better than your ex does, if that's what you're asking. Come on, walk with your big sis. Thanks for taking care of her, Sawamura, Sugawara."

They nod, and immediately, you're ushered down the hall, a hand splayed between your shoulder blades as Satsuki looks for something. Seclusion, you're guessing. "Uh—what's this about?"

"It's, um…" Hitomi cringes a little. "I should probably let Nishinoya-chan be the one to tell you."

"I'm guessing it involves your brother?"

"You could say that."

You roll your eyes. "Let me guess. He didn't take me finishing a fight he started all that well."

Hitomi doesn't answer. Satsuki guides you up the stairs and into the landing that leads to the roof. Instead of taking you outside, she sits you down on the top step, sits down right beside you. Hitomi takes your other side.

You don't feel very good about the way they're looking at you. Hitomi with guilt, Satsuki with genuine concern. It looks out of place on her face. She's supposed to be teasing, or angry, or protective. Not this.

"Okay, so… agh, I thought about how to say this all day, and it's still not quite right. Fuck it." Satsuki smooths out her skirt, takes a deep breath. "[name]-chan, did you tell anyone that you were bi?"

Your eyes flick to Hitomi. "You're doing this in front of my ex's sister eight days after I broke his nose?"

"You know that we have a thing, it's only fair. She's not out, so you have leverage, and anyway, you're ignoring the question. Did you ever tell anyone other than me and Yuu that you liked girls?"

You shake your head, dread boiling in your stomach. "No one but you, Noya-senpai, and Kaede-nee and Mei-nee. And I guess Asuka-senpai knows now, too." Your eyes linger on her. She wasn't surprised at Satsuki outing you. "Why? What are you—"

She lets out a rough exhale. "I confirmed this with Hitomi-chan, but I've got a guy in the baseball club, owes me big time, sort of a light blackmail situation, and anyway, long story short… according to the baseball club, Asuka's saying you cheated on him."

You choke on your own spit. "What? That's not—Noya and I were hardly even talking when we were—"

Satsuki shakes her head. The connection between her question and statement dawns on you as her hand settles on your shoulder. "Not with Yuu, honey. With me."

~

When you've been through some shit, it's easy to let your body go through the motions while your mind checks out. If your mind checks out, you don't have to pay attention to any whispers, any changed looks you're receiving at practice.

("Hey, do you think [surname]-san's alright? She looks kinda dead today."

"Nishinoya-chan was talking to her at lunch and came back late. No idea what it was about, but…")

When your mom died, you learned this skill. It became easy—after the first weeks barely able to move, you dragged yourself out of bed. Your father needed you to be strong, and your mother's daughter wasn't a failure, was brilliant, so she needed to go to school and sit in class and take her notes and take her exams, even if her mother wasn't around to be disappointed anymore.

In a strange way, you're already grieving. There's no point in looking at whether or not they know yet. You'd made plans with Satsuki. A way to prolong the inevitable, an exit strategy for when they finally found you out.

If the guys are looking at you and whispering, that's fine. It'll take a little bit longer for it to reach Shimizu and Yachi.

When they know, if you're not able to lie successfully, you're gone. You're making your peace with that. After all, it's not like they should have to share a changing room with you. Not when they know. The potential for their suspicion alone is exhausting. You don't know that it's worth it to try to hold onto this.

("I'm not sure if it's relevant, but…"

"Wait, really? No way, right? Everyone already knows she's—"

"If you keep being so obvious, she's going to hear you.")

Of course, Noya doesn't like it that you've checked out. You think he doesn't know what happened yet—not involved in the whispers, not directly—though you suspect that he intends to find out on the way home from practice. If not from you, surely Satsuki will let him know, and then he'll break into your damn house to talk to you while you're working on his birthday present, and—

Shit. You're gonna have to tell him yourself.

Satsuki had told you, when the panic attack had chilled out, to just deny everything. If anyone asks you about it, laugh them off. In the first place, Asuka's telling a petty lie to make himself look better after you wrecked his shit. He doesn't know you're bi, and you've never done more than joke-flirt with Satsuki. In the first place, you're—

I mean, Noya's right there. He's got dibs.

But you can't seem to remain calm without backing your brain out of the situation entirely. There's still the chance—that the girls will hear, that suddenly, they won't be comfortable changing with you, that they're going to slowly push you away until you have to quit for your own sake. And if you think about it at all, you spiral down that path.

So you don't think about it.

You push on through practice, dodge questions with a saccharine smile. Manage to dodge Noya until you're heading home, until you're being pulled in close with an arm around your waist.

"Hey," he says. His tone tells you that he's already heard. "Are you coming over tonight?"

"I can't. I have something important to work on." It's not a lie. "Who'd you hear it from?"

"Yamaguchi."

"How long until the girls hear?"

He shrugs. "Probably not very. From what I can tell, mostly just the first years are hearing about it, and mostly just the ones in that asshole's class. Yamaguchi only brought it up as a suggestion for why you looked dead."

You don't reply. You don't know what to say.

"For what it's worth, I think everyone's mostly just confused because it seems completely made up, but you're still acting like the world is ending."

"Just scared," you whisper. "Yacchan and Shimizu-senpai probably won't want to be in a club with someone who—"

"You deserve friends who don't treat stuff like that as something to overlook, or something wrong with you."

You pause. Look up at him.

He tilts his head. "You said something like that before, right?"

"I was talking about a girlfriend," you mumble, cheeks feeling hot. "You've gotta stop remembering shit I said. People are gonna think you're into me or something."

"Man, what am I gonna do if people think I'm in love with you?"

You hate him.

"But seriously. Yachi-san and Kiyoko-san are good people. They're not gonna do that to you, and if they do, good riddance."

You blink slowly. "…you're talking about Shimizu-senpai, here. Goddess among mortals? She who hung the stars in the sky?"

"Not if she's gonna hurt you for being bi, she's not."

You let out a shuddering sigh. Tamp down the threatening tears. Lean into Noya. "You're not going anywhere, right?"

"Why would I? I know you wouldn't sleep with Satsuki, and it's not like I didn't know you liked girls."

"…thank you. Really."

"I told the guys it was bullshit, but I'll keep an ear out just in case, alright? Keep me updated."

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[cynomain69]

i cant believe sethos is debuting on a haitham banner!!

[lamefish]

when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.

being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:

"will you take my virginity?"

maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.

"okay."

and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.

but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.

still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”

“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.

and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.

“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”

his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity—“use your words.”

“yes. please, gojo.”

“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”

the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.

you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.

you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”

you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i’m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”

satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”

you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”

one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.

he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.

that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”

you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”

his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”

snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.

“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”

“ngh, what do you mean?”

another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”

your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”

“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”

your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.

“satoru i’m gonna—”

he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.

his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.

a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?

he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.

“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.

“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”

“hear what?”

he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”

[emmyrosee]

“Get ready with me to breakup with my fiancé-“

“BUUUUUULLSHIT YOU ARE!”

Immediately, as soon as your first words are uttered over the recording video, Rintaro’s booms down the hallway. You laugh and smack your hand on the counter, trying to keep it as quiet as you can as you hear him continue to yell.

“THE FUCK YOU THINK THIS IS? WE’RE LOCKED IN, WHAT THE FUCK!” Socked feet barrel down the hall and you’re quick to hide the camera behind a bottle of mouthwash. His body quickly comes into the frame, chest puffed out and hands on his hips. “You got something you want to tell me?”

You pull your lips down in thought before shaking your head, “no. I don’t think so. I didn’t even know you were home.”

“Oh!” He says dramatically, clapping his hands together. “So you’re just always talking about dumping me to your little Internet friends?”

“Only in my fantasies,” you hum, tossing your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He pouts, and you giggle and kiss him again, “but if I ever do decide to dump you, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

This, has him blinking unamused at you. Then, his hands leap up to grab your cheeks, and he pulls you in for a loud, wet kiss, his lips pressing kisses over your laughing mouth, teeth, and lips. “Listen to me.”

“Rinnie!”

“No. Shush. Listen to me.” He pulls back and rests his head against yours, hands still squishing your cheeks. “I have shit out an engagement ring for you. I have your name tattooed on me. I got clawed to death by your rat fuck cat, and I have a shirt with your face on it that I wear when I go out. We’ve shared a toothbrush, you pinch my nipple when I’m showering, you text me and ask me if I’ve pooped, and I know damn well you take ugly pictures of me when I’m sleeping.”

“Your point?”

His nostrils flare, “you so much as THINK this relationship is ending, I’m going to tattle on you.”

“Oh, please-“

“To Komori.”

This, has you paling, and you nod softly and gently grab his shoulders, “no, okay, you’re right, you’re right baby, I’m sorry.” He nods as you press a kiss to his lips, “but in all seriousness-“

“Oh, I’m serious, too.”

You snicker, “in my seriousness, I’m never going to leave you.” You flash your engagement ring to the camera and purse your lips out, and he smiles down at you. “who else is going to poop out a ring, then lie to the salesman about why we’re returning it, and get me a new one, hmm?”

“Thankfully, I’m the only one who will.” He kisses your forehead, then looks at you with sad eyes. “We’re locked in?”

“Yeah baby,” you giggle, kissing his nose. “We’re locked in.”

[moonsgemini]

nobody knows - rafe cameron

summary: a secret relationship between the kook king the sweet innocent kook & bathroom sex

warnings: 18+, cursing, reader being jealous, alcohol, SMUT, slight choking, semi public sex, pinv

an: hiiii hope y’all enjoy <3 this is a lil shorter than my usual stuff. I need drew starkey bad !! Might turn this into it’s own lil universe

-

This party was going to kill you. The scene in front of you calling for you to do something irrational. It was almost as if he wanted you to accidentally spill wine on Lindsey’s head.

The way her hand constantly found a place on his bicep has you gripping your glass a little tighter. The friendly smile on Rafe’s lips not helping ease your jealousy. Neither was the way he kept leaning down so he could hear her better, as if they were at a rave. It was a fairly small party for crying out loud there was no need for that.

If you had super powers the entire back yard would be lit up in flames with the way you were glaring at the pair. Of course he also wore that shirt you loved on him. The one you had mentioned on multiple occasions that it was your favorite.

You wished you could go over there and yank him down by the collar and smush your lips against his. Let everyone know that it’s your name he’s moaning at night and his lips and body that have your coming undone almost every night.

You wished everyone knew exactly what was going on between the two of you. Then you wouldn’t have to disguise your jealousy as a head ache. You knew it was because of you that the two of you snuck around but you’re starting to want things to change. You couldn’t stand the sight of your man giving another woman attention.

“Garrett is such a dick I can’t believe I didn’t dump him sooner,” Your friend Nessa mumbled.

You hummed and nodded in agreement while finishing off the last of your wine. Not really paying attention to what your friend was saying.

“You’ve been quiet today. More than usual, all good?” Nessa asked.

You nodded, “Yeah just have a head ache again.”

“Then lets get you another glass, being drunk will help with that,” Nessa grabbed your hand. She led you back over to the small cocktail bar that was set up which was right past Rafe and Lindsey.

As the pair of you passed them you pretended not to see Rafe. Obviously Rafe’s eyes followed you, not really paying attention to whatever the girl in front of him had been yapping about.

He was trying this new thing where he wasn’t going to be an asshole to people. Unless they deserved it obviously, but it was really fucking hard when all he wanted to do was talk to you. The old him would have just ditched her mid sentence but that’s not who he wanted to be.

He watched as you poured yourself some more wine, your friend going on about something as you nodded along. His pretty girl always being the best listener.

After a minute you said something to your friend before walking into the house. After a few seconds Rafe said something about going to the bathroom and left the babbling blonde behind. He didn’t care he wanted to find you.

When he stepped inside he saw your half empty wine glass on the kitchen counter. He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and knocked.

“I’ll be out in a minute Ness!” You shouted from behind the door.

“It’s Rafe,” he said.

The locked clicked and the door opened to reveal your pretty frame. You had chosen to wear that dress he loves in the color he loves on you. He wasn’t the only one who chose what they’re wearing for a specific reason. You poked your head out and looked both ways before tugging him inside by the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at your antics

“Don’t you think it looks more suspicious if we’re in here together?” He smirked with a raised brow. In all honesty he didn’t really give a fuck if people saw you two together but he knows you aren’t ready.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like you were flirting it up out there with Lindsey.”

His smirk widened at the realization that you were jealous. He liked how around everyone you were always sweet and polite, sometimes even a little timid. But with him it was a different story. He loved the way you talked back to him and rolled your eyes at him. He loved the dirty things that sweet innocent mouth said to him when he was relentlessly fucking you.

“You jealous baby?” He stepped forward so the small of your back hit the counter.

Your scowl deepened as you crossed your arms, “No.”

He reach up stroked your cheek gently. His eyes going down to your lips, “You being a tough girl now. Come on baby you know she doesn’t have anything on you.”

Your scowl softened, “Well it doesn’t matter because it’s not like she knows that.”

Rafe leaned forward and kissed your cheek then your jaw and continued his way down to your pulse point, “I’ll let her know, we can let everyone know princess. I can fuck you right here right now.”

You gasped at his words and at the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, “Rafe,” you practically moaned.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too opposed to that,” His finger slipped under your dresses strap and pulled it down. His lips kissing the newly exposed skin as he went down to your chest, “Make you scream my name as I bend you over.”

You wanted to talk back to him but you couldn’t as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands had moved down your waist and to your thighs. Slowly dragging his fingertips up them until he plucked at your stringy underwear letting it snap back against your skin. He made you such an incoherent mess and you loved it.

With everything in you you mustered back a reply, “You sure you want Lindsey to hear.”

He chuckled against the top of your breasts that were exposed. His fingers now pressing against your wet clothed cunt.

“It seems like you want her to hear baby,” He pressed his fingers against your clit and rubbed soft circles, “look at how wet you are huh. My dirty girl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the sensation. His fingers slipped under your tiny panties and he slid them through your sopping cunt and groaned against your neck, “God I love how you feel.”

You tugged his face up to meet your desperate eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned at the feeling. You loved when Rafe fucked you but you loved kissing him even more. His fingers picked up the pace a little against your throbbing clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your legs.

“Please let me fuck you right here baby,” He mumbled against your lips, “I’ll do it so good. I’ll make you cum all over my cock.”

That whole being more nice thing Rafe was working on never applied to you. You were probably the only person on the island who had ever heard the kook king say please and thank you. Sometimes he even practically begged to fuck you or eat you out. You lived for it. It made your skin tingle and your tummy flutter.

You nodded your head, “Yes Rafey.”

He pulled his fingers away from you and practically shoved them into your mouth. You loved it though, tasting yourself on his long thick fingers. Your tongue licking them clean. He bit his lip and groaned with hooded eyes. Rafe was utterly obsessed with you.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop and leaned in capturing your mouth in his in another searing kiss. It was sloppy and made your head spin. He pulled away spinning you around. Your hands landed on the counter to steady yourself as he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Rafe gave your ass a firm squeeze and took a few seconds to admire you on this position. He loved that he could still see your pretty face in the mirror, he could see just how fucked you were for him. Your swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair all because of him. It made his heart beat faster and his ego grow. He loves that no one else has known you in this way until he came around.

You watched as he began to undo his pants and pull his thick cock out. You whimpered at the sight of him stroking himself a few times. Grabbing the tiny string of your panties he pulled it to the side before lining himself up with you.

“You’re a fucking dream,” He groaned as he slipped his tip in. The warm wetness of your pussy making him throw his head back. Slowly he slotted himself in you. The feeling of you clenching around him already getting him so close.

“Fuck you’re coming home with me,” He groaned as he began moving in and out.

You nodded with hazy lust filled eyes. You’d do anything he asked of you. The feeling of him stretching you out was out of this world. You didn’t understand how he was always able to hit that spot that had your back arching and mouth forming into an o.

He fucked you as quietly as he could. Rafe didn’t give a fuck if people heard but he knew you did. It’s not like you were embarrassed of Rafe and he knew that. It would just make things complicated if people knew. There’d be constant prying and knit picking at everything you two did and how you acted.

“Oh Rafe,” you mumbled standing up so your back was against his chest. He groaned and wrapped one of his hands around your throat. Your head fell back against his shoulder.

Rafe’s other hand found it’s way to your chest. He pinched one of your nipples and squeezed your breast. He did the same thing to the other one before sliding down your stomach and to your clit. He rubbed circles as he continued to thrust into you.

He moved the hand that was around your throat to hold your jaw. Tugging your head down to look in the mirror.

“You see that baby, He nodded towards your reflection, “see how good you look when I’m inside you. My girl takes me so damn well.”

“I-I mmmph oh Rafe,” you mumbled incoherently but he knew what you were trying to say. He could tell you were close by the way you tightened around him and the way you dripping down him.

“I know,” He groaned, “I’m there too.” A loud moan began escaping you but rafe moved his hand up quickly to cover your mouth.

“Shit look at you, no one will ever compare. Fuck I’m all yours,” He grunted.

Your moans were muffled by his big hand as you came. He wasn’t farm behind as he buried his face in your neck as he came inside you.

“Well we’ve never done that before,” you giggled.

He huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure we’ve done that plenty of times before.”

You shook your head, “We’ve never done it in a bathroom at a party.”

He smirked as he pulled out of you and adjusting your clothes for you. He gave your ass a gentle slap, “I should make you jealous more often.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him, “So what if I was jealous.”

He kissed you, “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m yours.”

You smiled softly as your heart swelled, “Rafe maybe we should tell people.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Really?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, “mhmm I want to go on dates here in town. I want to be the one who has your attention all night and when I get too drunk you drive me home.”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

After fixing yourselves to look presentable again you opened the door and led Rafe out not really thinking. But before you could even step through the doorway you were face to face with Lindsey who had a scowl on her face.

“Finally,” she rolled her eyes but then she saw the person standing behind you, “oh that’s where you disappeared to?” that scowl never leaving her.

Rafe nodded with a smirk, “My girl needed me.”

You blushed as you stepped past her with Rafe’s hand in yours with smiles plastered on both your faces.

[readwritealldayallnight]

I would love a take on boyfriend Ghost coming home to surprise you, but he finds your bed empty and doesn't realize that you are in his room in his bed. Thanks.

The placebo effect, was what he kept trying to convince you it had to be, no matter how many times you rolled your eyes and told him he was wrong

How else could one explain your insistence that Simon’s bed smelled so much like him, becoming your safe space when he was away on long deployments, when he only ever slept with you in your bed most nights to begin with

Hard to believe it was nearly three years ago now that you’d told your friend since childhood, Johnny, about how your search for a new flat was going miserably. You remember how he’d perked up and recounted with a mischievous glint in his eye about how his Lieutenant was apparently searching for a flat mate at the moment, someone who’d be looking after the place while he was away for work

Unsure about living with a strange man you’d never met before, but trusting Johnny’s judgement (though the way he seemed just a bit too eager about this meeting did kind of throw you off-) you had reluctantly agreed to meet with him and at least give the flat a glance before you simply turned him down

It wasn’t until you were knocking at the door of the address Johnny had written down for you, that you’d realized he’d never even given you the man’s goddamn name, only ever referring to him at Lieutenant or LT

Johnny apparently also failed to mention the absolute SIZE of the guy, his huge frame blocking nearly all of the light from behind him as he had swung the door open and stood in the doorway before you

In a slight panic, thrown off by the massive man before you and the way the butterflies in your stomach suddenly began to flutter at the sight of him, you had greeted him for the first time with a squeaky, unsure voice saying ‘Um, hi, are you the Mr Lieutenant?’ (something he has never let you live down since)

He knew then and there that you would be the one

Not just his flatmate (though what a generous flatmate he was when he offered insisted on moving all your boxes out of your old place and into his that very same day), but the one, something he reluctantly had to give Soap credit for, seeing as he was the one who wouldn’t stop talking his ear off about you

You would be his other half, his better half

And all these years later, the two bedroom flat truly only acted as a one bedroom, considering that from the start Simon was always falling into your bed with you at the end of each night, limbs tangled together under the warmth of a lovers embrace a thousand times more comforting than an actual comforter

Still though, that first time Simon had to be gone for work longer than a few weeks, you found the lingering odor of him clinging to his bedsheets to be one of the few things keeping you sane in his absence, taking to sleeping in his room for the time being, imagining that the pillow you cling to your front was a strong muscular arm instead, littered in scars and tattoos you feel confident you could recognize from touch alone

And when his long awaited flight back home to you landed a few hours earlier than expected, tires touching down in the dark, stillness of late night hour, he decided he’d surprise you and come straight home, rather than calling you to meet him at the base like you’d insisted, not wanting to wake you

Barely able to contain himself, he decided the elevator ride up to the seventh floor would take too long, take away precious seconds that brought him closer to you, and so up the flight of stairs he went, taking them two or three at a time, rushing to see the face etched behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes, to hear the voice that haunted his dreams each night

Quietly as a man his size could, he crept into the flat, snuck his way into your room, expecting to see your sweet, sleeping form cuddled up amongst the blankets and pillows. But his heart dropped when he noticed the bed was still perfectly made, not a thread out of place.

Trying to remain calm, though his mind was instantly swarming with every possible scenario that could have taken place, he knew he saw your shoes and jacket by the door, you couldn’t have gone far… but where were you?

He glanced into the living room, wondering if he missed you sleeping on the couch after a long day, he poked his head into the bathroom, even went so far as to check the small balcony, but finally there was only one door left to open.

And there you were, safe and sound, a tiny ball curled up into the center of his huge bed, clinging to one of his old masks and holding it close to your chest as though it were a security blanket (you’d been sleeping in his bed so much you needed something that still smelled strongly of him, you were getting desperate)

Stripping himself down to only his boxers, he tiptoed towards the side of the bed, his mind finally feeling more at peace than he ever had, gently pulling the sheets back just enough for him to slip in behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you into his muscular chest

Though it should be alarming to suddenly feel a pair of hands roaming over your skin, a body holding you firmly against their own, it’s as though your body knows who it is before your mind does

Any tension you were still holding onto during his absence instantly melts away, your own hands coming to land over top of his, giving a slight squeeze of acknowledgment, not yet willing to fully leave your half asleep state, but needing to touch him, to confirm he really is here

“Hmm,” You hum, voice groggy with sleep and a smile slowly stretching across your lips, snuggling further into his embrace. “You’re home.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing you in, wishing he could bottle up the scent of your shampoo and lotions and perfumes, if only to have something to hold onto while he’s away, understanding now why he found you in this bed rather than your own

“I am.” He whispers into your hair, sensing that you’re already drifting back into dream land, safe in his arms and his bed, knowing he’ll be there when you wake. He feels his chest tighten when he knows that you weren’t talking about the fact that he’s physically home, in the flat, but something more, something much more, because he means the same thing when he tells you, “You’re my home too, love.”

[mywritersmind]

THEY DONT KNOW IT - LN4

summary : She’s a popstar who’s being oggled by the same grid who doesn’t believe Lando has a chance with her. In a simple quiet conversation, Lando fixes that.

listen up : lando norris x popstar!reader. mentions of sex. reader wrote bed chem!!

word count : 629

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“You hear who’s in the paddock today?” Oscar eyes Lando as he joins the group of drivers. They all look suspiciously giddy.

“No…?” Lando eyes them, It’s Carlos who’s grinning and speaks up first.

“Y/n L/n.” the spaniard whispers.

Lando raises a brow as Alex nods to his girlfriend talking to you, “She’s a super famous singer right? Lily loves her.”

“Very pop.” Charles adds in.

“Very hot.” Franco says as they all turn to him, “What? You were all thinking it.” a surge of jealousy goes through Lando. Obviously he knows people think you’re hot, he’s the fan club president. But Franco saying it makes him want to go over there and kiss you in front of the young driver.

Lando watches you move your hair behind your ear, assessing the little black dress you’ve got on. “Fuck.” is the only think Yuki can say.

“Hasn't she been to a couple races?” George adds, “For any reason or…” Lando wants to yell at them that you’re there for him.

“She’s a fan.” Charles says, “Hangs with Alex in the garage sometimes.”

You wonder if they know how obviously the group is looking at you. You turn and give them a little smile. Most of the guys look away except Lando, who waves.

“What the fuck?” Carlos makes a face.

“Dude-” Max laughs as Lando looks around at the group.

“What?”

“Give up now.” Alex shrugs.

“Excuse you?” Lando crosses his arms over his racing suit, “You think I don’t have a chance?” They all start laughing, “Fuck you, lot!”

Alex grins, “Don’t let netflix hear.”

Carlos slaps his hand onto his friends shoulder, “Mate… she’s just so- and you’re so… it’s not made to be.”

Lando just scoffs, “Don’t pout!” Max laughs, “I’m pretty sure she’s the only girl out of your reach.”

“You don’t know about Nadia?” Alex grins.

Max gives him a confused look but turns back to Lando, except when he does, he realizes he’s already gone and walking towards you.

You smile when you see Lando, he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in for a quick hug, “Hi.” His eyes linger on you before smiling kindly at Lily.

“I’ll be back, Y/n. Lando keep your distance.” She points to the driver before walking away.

“The guys don’t think I have a chance with you.” He whispers into your ear, his hand still on your waist.

You laugh a bit, glancing at the men who are all staring at you two. “So naive.” he laughs a bit, tilting his head down.

A curl goes into his face and you resist the urge to push it back. “I’m happy you’re here.” this makes your cheeks go a bit pink. Funny, you’ve been sleeping together for months and he can say the tinest thing to get you to blush.

“I’m happy I'm here too. Win for me?”

“What do I get if I do?” His hand backs off your waist a bit, clearly aware of the eyes on you.

You look up at him, his eyes greener than ever, “Whatever you want?”

His brows go up, “Whatever?”

The corner of your mouth quirks, “Within reason.”

“Not much reason between the two of us.” You roll your eyes and back away from him so you’re no longer touching.

“Go run back to your friends and giggle about how a pretty girl kissed you.”

“But you didn’t-” He gets cut off by your lips on his cheek. He’s grinning ear to ear as you walk away, waving a bit.

When Lando walks back to the guys they’re gobsmacked, “Tell me you didn't just meet her today.” Charles practically pleads.

He laughs at their faces, “Have you ever heard the song, bed chem?”

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

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

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

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

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

"Black cat mask?"

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

"Mm, no. Too unoriginal."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. No more of this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

"Matt—have you seen Theo?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Theo—"

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

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

Run.

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

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

"And when you catch me?"

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

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

Theo told you to run—so you run.

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

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

You slam headlong into something solid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Enzo?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's usually the definition—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His answer is instant. "No."

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

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

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

Oh gods—you're really losing it.

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

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

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

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

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

Salazar save you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room spins. The air thickens into something cloying.

Ask him. Ask Enzo—

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

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

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

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

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

"…just not yet." Enzo finishes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Told you she'd love it."

Asshole.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe next time you should."

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