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#'but i do--' no you don't no the fuck you don't
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I think one of the kindest things you can do for people with various mental health struggles is just... let people back into your life after they've been absent for a while.
Making friends as an adult is so fucking hard already and isolating yourself from other people is a very common symptom of depression, anxiety, burnout, ocd, trauma, grief, etc. Which means that someone will do the hard work of recovery/healing and resurface back into a world where their previous friends have written them off because they stopped showing up.
So if you know someone where you're like "yeah we could have been better friends but they fell off the map a bit" and that person suddenly reaches out, or starts showing up to events even though you kind of forgot they were still in the group chat... well they may have been Going Through It and you don't actually have to punish them for their absence you can just be glad that they're back.
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nkogneatho · 3 days
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— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍
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—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso
—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.
—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️
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introduction to the universe:
Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.
“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.
The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.
“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.
“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.
“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.
“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.
“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.
“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.
“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.
“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.
“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.
“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.
“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.
“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.
“I am over-lactating.”
“What happened to the breast cups?”
“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.
“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.
“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his rock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.
“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.
“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.
“Lwove it.”
“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.
“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.
“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?
“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.
“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.
“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”
Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.
“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.
“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.
“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”
“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.
“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.
Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.
“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.
“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”
“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”
“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.
“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.
“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”
“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.
“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.
Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.
“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.
“Then he had the audacity to—”
“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.
After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?
You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.
Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.
“Are you okay?”
“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”
“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.
“L/N-san, this isn't right—”
“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.
Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.
“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.
He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.
“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.
You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.
“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.
“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.
“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.
“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.
“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.
“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.
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@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat
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Y'all want to know what thought is fucking with me today?
Parrots can learn the concept of questions. I don't know about the claim that chimpanzees that were taught sign language never learned to ask questions, or the theory that it simply wouldn't occur to them that the human handlers might know things that they personally do not, or that whatever information they have might be worth knowing. But I don't even remember where I read that, and at best it's an anecdote of an anecdote, but anyway, parrots.
The exact complexity of natural parrot communication in the wild is beyond human understanding for the time being, but you can catch glimpses of how complex it is by looking at how much they learn to pick up from human speech. Sure, they figure out that this sound means this object, animal, person, or other thing. Human says "peanut" and presents a peanut, so the sound "peanut" means peanut. Yes. But if you make the same sound with a rising intonation, you are inquiring about the possibility of a peanut.
A bird that's asking "peanut?" knows there is no peanut physically present in the current situation, but hypothetically, there could be a peanut. The human knows whether there will be a peanut. The bird knows that making this specific human sound with this specific intonation is a way of requesting for this information, and a polite way of informing the human that a peanut is desired.
"I get a peanut?" is a polite spoken request. There is no peanut here, but there could be a peanut. The bird knows that the human knows this. But without the rising intonation of a question, the statement "I get a peanut." is a firm implied threat. There is no peanut here, but there better fucking be one soon. The bird knows that the human knows this.
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gumified · 2 days
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WATCHING THRU THE MIRROR !
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pairing: suguru x reader, toji x reader, satoru x reader, choso x reader, sukuna x reader (all separate)
summary: jjk men and how much they love to fuck you with a mirror around.
content: 3.1k, smut, mirror kink (duh!), spanking, degradation, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, breast play, spitting, public sex (it's in a club bathroom), creampie, dumbification, choking
note: this is filthy but i cba to revise for my history exam so here you guys goooo!
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SUGURU GETO
"look at you." suguru coos at your figure in the mirror and your body is littered with dark purple bruises. you feel yourself grow wetter at the sight. his hands roam your body and your eyes are glued to the way his cock thrusts in and out of you. the way it disappears into your heat and how it's so big and thick. "do you like seeing me fuck you?" 
the sensation has tingles shooting up your spine. your boyfriend's voice is low and husky and it has your pussy clenching around his cock. strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes and he ignores it as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. the mirror in front of you both allows you to see your face and your reactions as he pleasures you. 
"love seeing you fall apart on my cock." suguru groans. you’re unable to take your eyes off the sight in front of you, staring at the way you look so unfamiliar and it’s so embarrassing that you turn your head to look away. suguru’s hands grab your chin, forcing you to look back at your messy body. “nu uh, don’t look away now, we’re about to get to the good part.”
you squirm in his grip, staring at your boyfriend's flushed face as a low growl leaves his throat. you whine at the sight. he fills you up and the room's filled with erotic sounds of his balls slapping on your sweaty skin. the tip of his cock hits a spot inside of you that has your body buckling over and you seeing the stars. everything feels so good and you can't help but feel your release approaching.
"s-suguru…" you moan. “ahh! so good, so so good, nghh-”
your stomach tightens and you feel your orgasm wrack through your body, pleasure shooting up your spine. you desperately try to keep your expression straight, not wanting to let suguru know that you had just come. you really should be known better though.
he stops his movements and his eyes harden into a glare. "did you just cum?" you shake your head. "no? really darling? you shouldn't lie to me."
“not lyin’ promise promise, didn’t lie, a-ahh!”
his eyes through the mirror has you shivering and you try to look somewhere else, anywhere else but you can feel him all around you. the truth is practically forced out of you and once it slips past your lips you hear suguru snarl and turn you over onto his lap. he delivers a harsh smack and a red mark begins to bloom. the zing of pain that shoots up within you only has your pussy dripping more. 
"such a needy whore, want me to fuck this cunt raw don't you? can't even follow simple instructions, do you need to be taught like a fucking baby?" each audible smack is delivered with more intensity than the last and you whimper at the pain. it spreads through your body and you wince when his hand comes into contact with your supple flesh. you’re moaning and writhing in his grasp. there's a steady rhythm to it and you can't help but stick your ass higher, craving his touch. “you don’t even know how to listen nasty whore.”
you whine at the numbness that fills the lower part of your body. suguru gives your ass a squeeze. you try to contain the moan that threatens to slip past your lips but it comes out and it's startling how pornographic you look in the mirror, your lewd expressions that reflect right back at you. you can feel him smirk as he leans down to whisper in your ear.
"gonna teach you a fucking lesson brat."
TOJI FUSHIGURO
“t-tojiii-'' a scream is ripped from your throat as you brace yourself against the sink. your hands grip the hard surface, clinging desperately as you get pounded from behind. “toji toji toji, hnggh, ‘s too much, please please pleaseee.”
there’s tears edging at the corners of your eyes as you feel your pussy constrict around his cock. he’s fucking you like he’s got a point to prove and his thrusts are relentless as he continues to plough into you. each hit makes you keen with pleasure and you’re forced to look at your lewd reflection in the mirror.
“dirty fuckin’ girl.” toji snarls as his hands lift your chin so you stare directly at yourself. his hands slide down to your throat and you gasp as he squeezes it. you feel the air leave your lungs and your head becomes light. “look at yerself you whore, filthy face, ya only know how to cum around my cock like some desperate slut.”
his insults only fuel your pleasure and you moan as his tip hits your cervix over and over again. his other hand comes to grope your tits and you shriek as he pinches your nipples, twisting them and playing with the sensitive nubs between his fingers. his hands are rough and you feel him caress your whole body. 
“do you see this cunt?” his fingers snake down to rub your clit and your eyes flutter open as you watch as he abuses your pussy. his cock plunges in and out, splitting you open so deliciously. “it’s mine, fuckin’ all mine, f-fffuck you’re such a nasty whore.”
you’re dripping wet and you can feel the mess between your legs. toji’s cock feels so big and thick inside your walls and you can only moan like a bitch in heat as you feel him fuck you senseless. his hands tighten around your throat and it only makes you moan louder, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the foggy mirror all you see is your fucked out face. toji’s behind you, face flushed as he leans forward to place kisses on your neck. his teeth nip at your skin and his tongue brushes over the bite he leaves. you grind your hips against his, feeling the way his cock seems to expand inside you. 
“yours yours yours, ‘m all yours toji, ah! ah! ah!” you squeal as his cock hits that spot that has you convulsing with pleasure. the lewd noises fill the bathroom and you can feel the smirk against your neck as toji increases the pace of his thrusts. “gonna cum, gonna cum gonna cum!!!”
“yeah? go on then pretty girl, look at yerself as you cum on this cock, look at yerself as you get fucked stupid.”
his words push you over the edge and then your pussy’s clenching around his length, squeezing him so so tight that it has toji moaning above you as well. you scream as you feel yourself gush around him, liquid spraying everywhere as you watch your expression shift to one you had never seen before. you feel his fat tip bullying into your cunt and all you can do is moan as he continues to fuck you. 
“princess didn’t think we were finished did ya?” his tone is mean and condescending and you know that the next few hours would consist of you being bent over every surface imaginable as toji fucks his cum into you. “‘m gonna make you watch yerself over and over again until you’re too fucked out to even keep these pretty eyes open.”
SATORU GOJO
you’re pressed up against the floor length mirror, satoru’s behind you, cock plunging in and out of your cunt. the cool sensation on your cheek is a stark contrast to the burning heat that’s in between your legs. you feel your mind become hazy as you feel satoru’s cock throb inside you. 
“fuck baby, you look so gorgeous. love looking at your cute face as i fuck you, don’t you?”
his tone is mocking and you know he’s purposefully making fun of you. your too fucked out to even talk and all you can manage is a strangled moan as you feel yourself get lost in the pleasure. satoru’s cock is unreal and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits every single spot imaginable inside your body. he’s fucking you with so much fervour that you’re afraid that you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow. 
“jus’ watch that filthy face, mouth open, tongue hanging out like some desperate bitch. who knew you were such a slut for cock?” satoru grips your hips like they’re the only thing keeping him sane as he fucks into your cunt. his dirty words fill your ears and all you can do is moan louder and louder as you listen to his haggard breathing. “tell me, who’s fucking you good? c’mon tell me who’s making an absolute, fffuckk, mess of this pussy.” 
“y-you, you’re the one fucking me ‘toru, you’re the only one who can fuck me this good, a-ah! ‘toruuu feels so good, wan’ more, please!”
a wicked grin spreads across satoru’s face and you scream when he lifts your leg, hoisting you to a higher position as his cock plunges into your tight hole. you feel him hit impossibly deeper and every thrust is accompanied with a breathy moan as he slams his hips against yours. 
his hands reach out to grab your face, twisting you to face him as he kisses you. his tongue delves into your mouth and you try to tug him closer to you. satoru swallows the lewd noises you provide him with, every moan, every whimper, every whine. he loves the way you call his name so desperately and he simply adores the way you look pressed up against the mirror, hands splayed pathetically in front of you. he pulls away, a string of salvia connecting the both of you and you watch as his eyes darken. 
“open.” and you obey his words, widening your mouth as you feel him spit into it. the feeling was enough to make you go insane. he moans before kissing you once more and it sends the both of you in a passionate frenzy. “god you’re so greedy, nghh, s-such a needy slut.”
and you can’t deny his accusations, not when you’re so erotically pressed up against the mirror for him, watching yourself unravel right in front of yourself. satoru’s lips rest on your neck, sucking harshly as he leaves a fresh trail of red marks. you’re rendered unable to move as he fucks you harder, your gummy walls sucking him in deeper.
“no no no, look at yourself pretty, c’mon look at the way you take me so well. can’t get enough of you.” your eyes are drawn to the way his cock disappears into you, the prominent bulge in your stomach the centre of your attention. satoru’s hands reach down to press against the outline of his cock and you mewl at his touch. warmth spreads throughout your body and you spasm uncontrollably as each thrust has you jolting. “we’re gonna be here all night and you’re gonna be filled so full with my cum that you won’t need anything else.”
CHOSO KAMO
choso’s eyes are glued to your reflection above him. he’s staring intently at the mirror on his ceiling as you bounce on his cock over and over again. you giggle at his cute expression, how enraptured he is to watch the both of you in the mirror. his face is flushed and his hair is splayed everywhere on the pillow while you ride him.
“you’re so pretty baby, do you like looking at me that much?” your voice is light and teasing as your fingers drag up his chest, feeling the hard muscle underneath you. “if i had known i would’ve installed a mirror above our bed much sooner.”
all choso can do is whine as he bucks his hips up desperately. your pussy squeezes his cock so tightly and he gasps, finding himself unable to take his eyes off your figure. you look so beautiful above him and the more he stares the harder he falls in love with you.
“y-y/n, fffuckk, feels so g-good, your pussy feels so good!” his moans are breathy as he struggles to catch his breath. his cock hits every spot inside you so deliciously that it has you whimpering as well. “wanna fuck you forever.”
choso’s hands grip your waist as he snaps his hips up to yours and you squeal at the sudden movement, not expecting him to suddenly thrust into you. his pace is unrelenting as he continues to pound into your pussy watching as you fall apart on his cock. he’s always been so big and he’s always been able to fill you up so full.
“a-ahh! o-oh my godd, choso love you so much, love you so so - hnghh - much!” you throw your head back, too engrossed in the pleasure and you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. lewd expression and fucked-out eyes greet your gaze. you smile at the sight above you. your boyfriend looks adorable, face blushing red and eyes squeezed shut as he groans and whines. the sight is almost too much to bear. 
choso reaches forward, grabbing your face close to his for a kiss. you moan as you melt into his body. your hands tangle through his hair and he lets out a whine when you tug at the roots. there’s tears pricking his eyes as he feels you tug on his dark locks.
“more, p-please more, need you s-so bad.” his words only fuel you more and you rock your hips back and forth faster, desperate to reach both of your highs. his hands wander around your body, caressing every inch of your skin until he finds your tits. his fingers play with your nipples, pinching and twisting them until it has you gasping for more. your cunt clenches around his cock and you can feel every protruding vein as he throbs painfully inside you. “w-wanna cum, please please please, ‘m so close y/n pleaseee.”
before you know it, you’re flipped over and choso’s on top of you, roughly ploughing into your pussy in a frenzied haze. his incoherent babbling fills your ears and all you can hear is him begging for his release. you feel your senses dim as his tip bruises your cervix and his cock seems to expand within you. your eyes lock onto the pens looking back to you in the mirror and you don’t recognise the girl whose mouth is agape and who’s moaning like a slut. choso captures your lips in a passionate kiss and he’s grinding his hips onto yours, fucking you dumb. 
“look y/n, hah, look at yourself as you c-cum on my cock, wan’ you to see yourself as i fill you with - nghh - my c-cum.” your hands claw at choso’s back and you see the red marks it leaves as your nails dig into his skin and he hisses at the sensation. the mirror gives you a clear view of yourself and your boyfriend as you release all over him and as he spurts his cum into your pussy. you moan as you hug him closer to you, so you can feel every inch of him. hot thick cum invades your body and you feel your mind blank as you lie beneath choso blissed out.
SUKUNA RYOMEN
“nasty fuckin’ bitch.” sukuna grabs a handful of your ass as he plunges his cock into your pussy. his palm makes contact with the smooth curve and you scream as the pain spreads through your body. “wearing such a slutty outfit, you’re just asking to be fucked dumb aren’t you?”
the only response you’re able to give is a strangled moan as you grip the dirty surface in front of you. your tits spill out of the tight dress you’re wearing and you watch as they bounce in the mirror. every harsh thrust sukuna delivers is reciprocated with the recoil your ass provides. his hand makes contact once again and you feel tears roll down your face.
“think you can break up with me then come to some club in some scraps of fabric you call a dress? guess you’ve really gone insane haven’t you princess?” his words only make you grow wetter as you whimper in response. the moment you had spotted sukuna in the dark corner of the club you knew he would drag you to the bathroom and fuck your brains out, not that you were complaining. “f-fuck forgot how well this pussy takes my cock, such a greedy girl.”
“hngghh, ‘kuna-” your words are cut off with a shriek as sukuna lifts you higher. his cock hits you even deeper and you’re falling apart all over again. you watch the mirror in front of you, looking at the way your face is sweaty and the wicked grin that’s on your ex's face. “so good ‘kuna, so so good!”
“yeah? missed me dirty girl? did you miss the way this cock fills your slutty pussy?” sukuna’s hands are rough as they grope your breasts, he’s not gentle as he pulls on your nipples harshly. “answer me slut.”
“m-missed you so much ‘kuna, s-soo much ahhh!”
sukuna smirks and he’s pounding into your cunt sloppily again. you feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as it lands on the floor. he kneads your soft skin between his hands, tainting you with his touch. “filthy fucking whore, that’s all you’re ever gonna be, my fucking cum dump.”
the repetitive slapping of skin fills your ears and your breathy moans mix in to create a lewd concoction. you sob at the overstimulation as you watch yourself get fucked in the mirror. it’s gone foggy yet you can still make out your figure bent over as you get stretched out from behind you. each thrust has you jolting forward and you desperately cling on to the little bit of sanity you have left as sukuna fucks it out of you. 
“you’re mine got that? don’t ever think about leaving me again, i’ll always find you princess because you’re mine, my cute little cocksleeve.”
you can’t take it anymore as you feel yourself squeeze his length. you’re so tight and his cock splits you open perfectly. his fat mushroom head invades your insides and you feel yourself craving his cum. you want him to use you so badly and you feel your own morals slip from your grasp. sukuna only continues his dirty praises as he leans forward, whispering them into your ear and his hot breath fans across your face and you mewl at the feeling.
“yours ‘kuna, only yours, wanna be yours forever please pleaseee!”
when you look up in the mirror you see the shit-eating grin that spreads across sukuna’s face and you feel your stomach tighten at the sight. his cock throbs in your pussy and you feel your whole body light on fire as he fucks into your harder. 
“that’s right, you’re mine.”
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lxnarphase · 2 days
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━━ ❝ it's sticky, toshi... ❞
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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : you help ushijima finally realize that he's got a breeding kink
ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...cw : u. wakatoshi x fem!reader, dirty talk, messy and wet, teasing, marathon sex, pet names, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy, ushijima can't stop cumming
ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : haikyuu save me, save me ushijima wakatoshi, SAVE ME !! anyways hi i spent 150$ on ushijima merch yesterday and i don't regret it, so say hello to my haikyuu phase coming back !!!
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ushijima having a breeding kink isn't a surprise to you at all.
what is surprising is how long it takes for him to figure it out.
sure, at first it wasn't clear, but after being with him for so long, you quickly pick up on whenever he'd mutter in your ear as he slid his stupidly big cock inside of you, saying how badly he wished he could cum inside of you instead in the condom.
afterwards, he's so focused on cleaning you up and making sure you felt good and satisfied, you don't get a chance to question him on it. not that you were complaining, ushijima is so cute when he's asking if you need anything and constantly reminds you to get up and go use the bathroom.
it's even cuter when he realizes you can't walk.
"ah. i'm sorry, i didn't realize how hard i went...here, let me help."
eventually, you to suggest things to ushijima, trying to test out the waters with him.
you start by just asking if he’d want to fuck you without the condom, what he thought about cumming inside, even jokingly saying you’d make him a dad one day.
but it seems like that last part was swimming around his head for a while...he can't get the thought of you getting chubby and round with his kid out of your head. and knowing he'd be able to take care of you all the time? that thought alone made him shiver a little.
what can he say, he loves doting on you more than anything.
however, you aren't expecting the way he reacted weeks after dealing with your teasing and questioning, fueling the thoughts swirling inside his head.
"toshi, if you ever cum inside me, you should set it as your phone background! actually, wait, no, because what if your teammates see it..."
"..."
"mm, maybe a video instead? ooh, yeah, i want a video of you cumming in me then pullin' out so i can see it spill out, toshtosh, would you do that f' me?"
he doesn't reply and doesn't give you a chance to comment again. the visual you painted in his mind just too much for him.
next thing you know, ushi's got you folded in half on the bed, making sure you feel every drag of his stupidly fat cock against your hot gummy walls. he's pulling out to just the tip before slamming back inside you, groaning each time you let out a whimper of his name or squeeze down on him.
"toshi, t-toshi! h-hoohmygod, please, baby, c-calm down, 'm sorry f' teasin', oh my goddd...!"
you're so fucking wet and noisy, he wants to make you be quiet because he feels like your going to make him cum too fast but he'd never ever do it as the thought of not being able to hear you is painful.
he's lost track of time, your cunt making him brainless as he pumps his cock in and out of you as he groans your name, one of his hands pinning your arms to your back while the other presses your head into the pillows.
"s-shhh, honey, let...let me make you feel good, y're so loud..."
it's so fucking messy and sloppy, his cum is dripping out of your tight pussy from how many times he’s emptied his load into you, but he still isn’t stopping, no, he can't. it’s leaking from between your thighs, leaving a milky white sheen on his dick, dripping down onto the bedsheets.
"m-mmh, nooo, toshi, don' wanna be quiet, i-i wan' you to hear how good you make me feel, baby," you purr between moans, knowing that your voice was enough to get him off. the throb of his dick inside of you told you that you were right.
“i...i thought 'bout fucking you like this all day, during practice…that i’d fuck you full of my cum, get it so deep inside you," he mutters with a grunt, moving his hands off you so he could drape himself over your back.
"f-fuck, everyone knew something was off, kageyama kept asking me if-if was okay, how 'm i 'posed to tell him my pretty little honey is waiting at home for me to fill them with my cum?”
with an affirming coo, you manage to tilt your head to the side to look over your shoulder, wanting to see how ushijima is holding up and god, the sight is so sinful.
ushijima's dripping in sweat, his bottom lip swollen and puffy from his teeth digging into it. his fluffy hair is messy and sticking to his damp forehead, and his eyes are shut, squeezing in pleasure when the head of his cock brushed against that sweet spot just right, making your cunt spasm around him.
but his eyes keep opening to see the mess between the both of you. each thrust causes his cum to spill out around him, loud, wet squelches filling the bedroom. and it's only fueling his need to fill you up again, and again, and again, until he can’t anymore.
ushijima can’t stop himself, flipping you over onto your back and folding you into a mating press and, god, he's so fucking happy he did. the way you sob his name, your nails clawing at his back as you cry in pleasure about how much deeper he is now driving him insane.
“t-toshi, cum in me, please, wanna make you a daddy, please.” “I know, baby, I’ll give you all of it, fuck you full of cum until you can’t take anymore.”
“i-i know, honey, i’ll give you all of it, stuff you full of cum until you can’t take anymore.”
fuck, he’s so loud, he sounds so good. ushi's deep, drawn out groans and pants of your name making you go dizzy, his big hands squeezing your waist tightly each time your hands tug at his hair.
“mm, fuck, that’s right, take all my cum, look at you, so good, can you take more? let...let me cum in you again, baby, you promised you’d make me a daddy, right? i-i need to make sure it sticks.”
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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dollypopup · 2 days
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I can't stop thinking about Colin on his travels. Colin, alone, on a journey to 17 different cities, across several countries. Colin on his own.
Colin who writes letter after letter, to his family, to his friends, and barely gets a response back. How long before he understands that they didn't get lost in the mail? How long until he realizes that, just like when he was a boy, no one has the time for him? The space for him? How many letters unanswered before he lets it finally take root and fester in his mind?
He could have died on that tour.
Would they even notice? Would they see when the letters slow until they cease? Would they wonder why? His mum, surely (maybe, possibly, but she has enough on her hands, besides, and he's never been a concern, in need of her assistance, before), but anyone else? Anthony on his honeymoon, Eloise a stormcloud personified, Benedict taking on the familial responsibilities, Fran preparing for the marriage mart and in Bath, regardless. Daphne, his closest sister, a mum running her own estate.
Greg and Hyacinth who enjoy his stories, but are children.
Pen who ignores him. No explanation, no goodbye.
Colin who has no one in his corner. Colin who travels city to city, putting on personas. Will they like me? What about now? Colin who has hardly anything to read from the people he loves. Who do not think of him.
And yet he thinks of them. Brings them back gifts, writes his recollections for them until it hits him that, oh, they don't care. They don't care what he's doing, how he's doing. They didn't want to hear it before, when he was there with them, and they do not want to hear it now, either. Did they even open those envelopes? Did they see them come through the post, just as proof he's alive, and shrug off the contents? Did they look? Once, Colin sends an empty page. No one notices. Easier, then, to send just the outsides. People only ever care about the outsides. Pretty and prim in neat packages, uncaring of what lies beneath. Sea sick on the rocking boats, staring up at stars on the continent, Colin grows aware, but not bitter. Sad, but resigned.
He loves his family, he loves Pen, loves them to grace, loves them to it's okay. It was him, he determines. Too chatty, his letters too long, uninteresting, his passions dull or droll, or else, worse, he's displeased them in some way. Colin who takes refuge in stranger's arms and homes, who dreams and tries to sate his curiosity. Colin who pretends, because anyone, anyone but him would be received better, he's sure of it. Colin who must talk too much, surely, and with no one to listen. Colin who learns to hush.
Yes. Remarkable- as in, I have many remarks about it.
How many times did he go to excitedly write of what he did that week, and stopped himself, knowing it was a waste? How many times did he write and throw into the fire a letter asking Why don't you see me? Why don't you care?
If he didn't make it, how long would it take for anyone to notice? A month? Two? A year? Would they wave it off as his frivolity, denounce him as a flake and fume about the funds? Would they wonder where it was he had lost himself off at?
He cannot fall into that, so, he writes in his journal, instead. Of the ache of it, of how he longs for connection, for understanding, for someone to take him seriously. He keeps it with him, this log of his discontent, of his folly and felicity, of his pitfalls and pains.
If he didn't make it, would they realize all that's left of him is what he sent them, not even a body to bury? Did he look over the side of a bow of a boat and look at the churn of the ocean and think of how many bones it held? Did he tip his face to the sun? How many new scars did he earn? Who did he befriend?
Who did he become?
Somewhere along the line, Colin learned. He learned the real him wasn't wanted.
Somewhere along the line, somewhere between Patmos and Paris, Colin left Colin behind.
And, somewhere along the line, Colin laid face to face with loneliness in his bed, and it wrapped its arms around him.
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frmisnow · 2 days
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✧˖ ?! — I LOVE TO LOVE YOU! (SMUTTY)
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summary. agreeing to finally spend the weekend over at your boyfriends, you find him clingier (& hornier) than ever!
notes. let me tell you i've been STRUGGLING w writers block but i just wanted to give yall smth bc i have like 2 TOUGH weeks of exams coming up :( so i do hope you enjoy, much love!!! ₊˚⊹
warnings/includes. bf bf non idol? jungkook x f! reader, he's clingy & horny so basically the summary!, established relationship (she just doesn't live w him), a drabble, giving head + kitchen sex mentioned
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when you once again agreed to spend the two free days with jungkook, you were as always not prepared for him rotting around you the whole time.
it didn't matter where you were — preparing something for dinner? you bet your ass he was hugging you from behind, evidently slowing down your cooking progress, giggling manically. typing it away on your laptop, trying to get a school paper done? he'll magically show up from behind (you swear you did NOT hear any footsteps), closing the laptop carefully while leaning over the chair to place tiny kisses down your neckline, mumbling something about you not being supposed to work since the weekend was there for him to love you.
and let me tell you: jeon jungkook takes his loving towards you during saturday and sunday (pun intended) VERY seriously. I'm telling you: consider yourself lucky if he even lets you out of bed!
he has to have his hands on you 24/7 and if he doesn't he'll swear he might just die at least that's what he always says.
you have to take 'he loves to love you' pretty literally because when it comes to jungkook and your special little weekends together, he always always puts your pleasure first.
jungkook bets he could eat your pussy for hours at a time and he'll go to many lengths to prove just that, he'll overstimulate you on accident- and then looks up to you with his boba eyes all inoccently like he actually didn't mean it.
i swear he always gets a boner around you! and he'll full on blame you for it! 'it's just cause you look like that!' adorned with that silly pout but be careful with how you respond- he might just fuck you on the kitchen counter... that man has no mercy.
all the way at night on saturday, when he's done with you, tucked you into bed, snuggled up to you all tightly, he'll whisper: "it's so sad that you don't live with me" into the air, every fucking time.
but maybe it was good that only those two days belonged to him since you really didn't knew what kind of animalistic human you'd turn into if you did the things you did together, seven days a week.
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lovifie · 2 days
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Masterlist Phone Sex with Boyfriend!Simon
"Are you home?"
”Are you home?”
That's the signal that you have learned, and the only one Simon gives you, your phone rings as soon as you send your positive answer.
“Hi, Simon.” You say with a singing voice when you pick up the call, pressing your phone against your ear.
“Hi, darling.” His deep voice grumbles through the phone, making you bite your lips as the sound travels down your body. 
The indubitable sound of his buckle being toyed with sounds loud and clear in the background. 
“Aw, Simon… are you missing me, sweet boy?” You say with a pout in your voice, using your shoulder to hold your phone while you twist off the cap of the nail polish bottle. 
“Every bloody second, sweetheart.”
Your heart warms with his shameless declaration, making you smile even though he can't see your face. 
“My pretty boy, I miss you too…” The line stays quiet for a minute, only his breathing audible; until you break the silence. “Does your pretty cock hurt, darling?”
“Yeah, fuck, yes it does.” He groans, a squeaky sound of the spring of the mattress sounding under his voice. He must be thrashing around on the bed, desperate. And you thought you had trained him better. 
“You should do something about it then, Simon.” You say, raising your foot to rest on the edge of the chair kicking your slipper off. “Don’t you think?”
“Can I?” His breathless voice betrays him, letting you see as clear as day how desperate he is. 
Good boy.
“Of course you can, love.” You answer, chuckling to yourself.
The response is immediate. Loud in the silence of the call, you hear how he gets his belt undone, throwing the buckle back carelessly so his aching member can find solace in the harsh wrap-up of his hand. 
His first moan comes to life right after the first tug, desperate, to the point it makes you wonder for how long he has fought with himself to not call you only to get conquered by the lustful needs of his body.
The buckle of the belt jangles in the background like a metronome with each flick of his wrist, the telltale sound of the rhythm he is setting.
“Talk to me, pet. Please.” His voice is whiny on your ear, desperation oozing out of each syllable, almost enough to make you feel bad about how unbothered you are by it. 
It's not that having your poor boyfriend calling you in desperation to hear your voice so he can actually cum doesn't turn you on, c’mon, you are not made of stone. But it also feeds your voracious ego, filling you with cockiness that you know he will quickly wipe out of you the moment he's back. 
But he is away now, and in this situation, you have the upper hand; threatening to close it around his neck knowing he would enjoy it more than yourself. And it would be such a waste of an opportunity if you didn't choke him a little bit. 
“Have you been thinking about me, love? Hm? Is that why you are so worked up?” You ask, picking the brush soaked in nail polish and applying it over your thumbnail. His whiny moan of your name is all you get as an answer, choppy breaths surrounding it helping it travel right to your core. “Been thinking about me touching you, hm? Wrapping my lips around your poor weeping cock, Simon?”
“Fuckin’ hell, luv…” He groans back, you hear the springs of the mattress again when he moves.
“Are you lying down, Simon?” You ask when you are on your third nail. A weak, high-pitched whine is all you get as an answer, a yes, you assume. “Stop then.”
queaky queaky queaky
“Simon.”
queaky queaky queaky
“Simon, stop touching yourself.”
“What?” He's breathing so hard it is almost difficult to understand him.
“Did I stutter? Stop touching yourself. Hands up, pretty boy.” You almost don't recognise your voice, an authoritative tone improper of a civilian talking to a lieutenant.
But he obliges, immediately, if he wasn't breathing so loud you could have heard the soft thud of his length falling red and angry over his abdomen. 
“For god's sake, sweetheart, please.” He groans, but you can no longer hear the mattress squeaking or his buckle being shaken. Obedient little soldier he is. 
“Who called me?” You ask, acting incredulous that he would now not let you do your part. He mumbles a tiny “me” making you smile once again. “Then do as I say, love.”
He huffs without a further complaint, waiting for your next words so he can finally move. 
“Put me on speaker, and the phone on your chest so your hands are free.” You say, moving to paint your other hand. He does as instructed, hearing the rustling of his shirt as he lays his phone. “Now wrap your hand around your dick, both of them, tight. And move, slowly!” 
You punctuate the last word with emphasis, hanging on the line to hear his movements but all you hear are his pretty sighs and puffs. You groan, making him stop in his movements once again. “Not your hands, Simon. Your hips. Move your hips.”
“What? Like-”
“Yeah, Simon. I want you to fuck your fists and imagine it is me the one your fucking.” You say, chuckling when you hear him moan. His voice sounds suddenly loudly and you assume his phone must have slipped up toward his face when he planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting his hips up. 
“There you go, good boy, Simon.” You say, melodic voice making Simon shudder as he throws his head back, moaning shamelessly as his hips move faster and faster to meet the tight embrace of his fists. 
Every time that an especially loud whine falls from his lips you coo at him, the mental image of him with his eyebrows furrowed, teeth digging into his bottom lip to try and catastrophically fail to keep his voice down making your mouth water. 
He calls your name again, begging for your attention as he mumbles incoherent words and you pity him only when you are done with your nails, waiting for them to dry as you turn your attention to him. 
“C’mon, darling.” You half-whisper to him. “Give it to me, love… Think that it is not your hands, think that it is my pretty cunt around your dick right now. I know you can.”
A cry of your name. 
“Think is my sweet cunt sucking you in, hm? Doing that thing that you love me to do.”
A low groan.
“Think that you are fucking me stupid, Simon. Moaning your name and milking you empty, love.”
A minute-long silence right before a chain of curses starts to spill from his lips, the squeaky sounds of the bed growing irregular as he cums over his own chest in thick spurs making him dizzy. 
You blow on your nails, happy with the results and waiting for your dear boyfriend to come down from his high as you sweet talk him. “You did so good, Simon… My darling… My sweet boy… My baby…”
“Watch it, you little minx”
You shiver at the sudden switch, remembering the temporal aspect of your position. Downing on you every single word you just pronounce and every condescending tone you use. 
Luckily for you, his deployment is meant to go on for a couple of weeks longer; enough for him to grow desperate enough and not pay you back with the same coin you just used. 
No need to worry about the consequences of your actions any time soon. 
“And by the way, sweetheart.” He says once his breathing is back to normal, the sound of his buckle jangling again. “The OP was cut short and I'm getting home sooner.”
You swallow. “How much is sooner?”
“Tomorrow's night”
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@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z
@lyralein @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121
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@sodavrr @yuki2129 @idk-justkane @shanhalen @dukeofjjune
@vane28282 @dracu1ara @vivi2e @lordbugs @murder-hobo
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demilypyro · 21 hours
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Every time someone in my twitch chat says some fuck shit I make a point to call it out. The other day someone was disrespectful towards sex workers so I stopped dead in my tracks and told em we don't do that here. You can't let stuff like that slide or it sticks to your fanbase like a booger
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cute-sucker · 3 days
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smile for the camera
˚❀༉‧₊˚
rafe called you his prized trophy, and you didn't mind it. you trotted in your tight skirts, black card and tiny heels. it was a ritual, something calming. you needed a label, something to stand by.
something that branded you to be his. but you didn't mind his demands, sometimes you were sweet about it. sometimes you let things go wild, but you knew he would take care of you. that was the important thing. that was what you needed most of all/  
there was something about him that made you feel protected. and he liked that you let him do that. you fueled his male insecurities of having to be a strong, strong man, because of how desperately you needed someone like that.
you used to be a pageant queen, a girl who had gems stuck to her forehead, makeup drowning her face, teeth bleached white, and the constant need to be loved. one of your vivid memories was getting dragged to get your hair done, your mother screeching about how needy you were. the whole appointment you cried your eyes out, arms flailing out, whispering questions.
"do you love me mommy?"
and she would pull you up, her lipstick clashing againts her leopard orange jumpsuit. you could already hear the insult, and braced yourself.
"would someone love their cash cow?" then she paused watching your expression. you were five. you didn't know what that meant, but you could feel yourself being inspected like an insect, and then finally when you cowered your gaze to the floor, she hummed with contempt.
"no. now, shut up" then her harsh hand would graze against your chin to fix your hair. you whimpered, hands aching to take out your outfit. the rest of the memory was too painful to remember.
but those days were gone. rafe had caught your eye the first time you worked at the country club. you lacked the vanity or the items that would attract someone who had money, but there was something about your smile.
you were dazzling no matter what, and that was when rafe had seen you. you had gone to the bathroom before to serve him, and came back with pink glossy lips and doe eyes that showed him that you were innocent. you needed protection. you needed someone to give you the firm hand, and then kiss you with forgiveness.  
so there it was. within weeks he would only call you to serve him, and you would do so quickly, the same smile plastered on your face, and finally as if he was pissed he pulled you down. your mom had always told you that the one thing she liked about you was your winning smile. but, something was wrong.
"nah, i don't like that."
you snapped to look at him, your fake smile wavering for a moment, "what's the problem, mr. cameron?"
sometimes that would earn a chuckle out of him, and you could tell the way he was sitting that he liked it but - but there was something wrong, and suddenly he was pulling you down to sit with him. you felt shocked seeing him so close. you could smell his breath, and you felt your heart drum faster.
"get that-" he pointed to your face, "-fucking fake smile outta here. if you wanna make me happy? give me a real smile."
and that was it, and then he grunted almost pushing you up. you sniffled, and then got up, hands reaching to fix your skirt and then hurried out to the backdoor. no one called back for you, and it was almost as if his words echoed all the way home as you caught the bus.
you spent hours crying over that moment. as you got home you rushed to the bathroom. your disgusting apartment smellt of cockroaches, and burnt food, and you sat there in your sink. you smiled. stopped. smiled. stopped. smiled. it hurt the way the cracks of your smile etched into your mouth.
what was wrong with it?
for god sakes what was he talking about?
x
those days were now long gone. no longer did you wait tables, or go back to your crappy apartment that made you feel gross. instead you slept in a warm bed in tanyhill waking up to rafe's firm hands on your body. you snuggled closer to him, placing your hands on his chest.
"hey?" he murmered, head buried in the fluff of his pillow. you giggled at his strange expression, and he quickly stuck his head out, eyes squinted, "what's wrong?"
you sighed, "nothing rafey. i-"
he looked at you again, a pointed look on his face, "spit it out."
you bit your lip, your voice a whisper when you asked your question. you had always been told to never ask questions unless you wanted the backhand, but rafe waited patiently.
"um," you sputtered out, "um, you remember that day when you came into the country club and i was serving-"
he hummed appreciatively, "yeah you were so hot, goddamn-"
at this you giggled again, before placing your hand on his mouth, "gotta shut up for a second-" and then you bit your lip before tilting your head, "remember that day when you told me to stop smiling, or something like you didn't like my smile?"
rafe seemed to furrow his eyebrows, "no, baby, i don't really remember that," he muttered out, and you felt your heart prick.
your eyes watered the way they always did, as your throat clogged up, "i was wondering what you meant by that?"
he sighed finally, looking at you. you looked so small in your pink nightgown, lip stuck out as you seemed to clench your fists to the sides of your body. you watched him carefully, hoping that something - some emotions would show on his face.
he sighed again, before reaching out for you, "baby, come here. you seem so far away," he said soflty, pulling you closer until you were in his lap. he held you close, his words humming a sweet vibration through your body. you felt safe, you felt at home.
you felt your breathing calm, as you listened to his steady beat. his hand moved up and down your back.
"listen," he began, his voice a low rumble, "when I said that, i didn't mean I didn't like your smile. i just meant i wanted to see the real you. not some fake, plastered-on smile you thought i wanted to see."
you sniffled, tears brimming in your eyes, but you felt a small flicker of relief. "but why didn't you just say that?" you whimpered, your voice small and vulnerable.
he tilted your chin up, making you look into his eyes. "i was a dickhead, and you seemed like a sweet girl. i wanted to know you as that sweet girl"
you blinked, a tear slipping down your cheek. he make a soft sound of protest as he wiped the tear away with his coarse thumb, touch tender
"you mean that?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. you felt shy now, folding into your self, as rafe smiled against your skin.
"of course, i mean it," he replied firmly. "y'think i'd lie about something like that?"
finally he pulled you up to give you a firm kiss, "my princess."
you buried your face in his chest, letting his words sink in. the weight of the past seemed to lift, if only a little, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "thank you, rafe," you murmured against his skin.
he held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "no need to thank me, baby."
for the first time in a long time, you felt a genuine smile tug at your lips.
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specshroom · 2 days
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Some rather unlucky investments have landed you in a tad of debt. However, you have know of a way to get out of it that requires very little work on your part.
The "Pussy Portal" company are always hiring after all.
All you have to do is have a portal directly connected to your pussy that any paying customer can use at any time. What could go wrong?
Just realized u didn't actually say it had to be monsterfucking specifically but I made it that anyway lmao.
At least you thought it was going to be very little work on your part.
But now you're not so sure as you sit on the train ride home trying to act like there isn't a monster cock reaching deep in your cunt.
You curse yourself for not reading the terms and conditions of the contract properly. You thought they were just being hyperbolic when they said "Prime Pussy Anywhere, Anytime!" Surely they would have down times right?
No. There are no down times unless you call in a sick day of which you only have few. You shoulda known that pay was too good to be true.
At least whoever's using your portal seems to only be cockwarming themselves for the time being, although that could change at any moment. Every jerk of the train makes you tense up as you try and act as nonchalant as possible. The cock sits so snug and warm inside you, it twitches every time you tense around it.
On the customer app your portal is advertised as specifically "Human pussy" so you like imagining the kinds of monsters who would pick that out specifically. You haven't figured out what monster this one might be, it's rather thick and hot with a very generous amount of precum.
When you get to your stop the train jerks more than you expected and you have to subtly cover your mouth and grab the railing to avoid making a sound. Your customer definitely felt you clench down in panic as their cock jumps in excitement.
They start grinding down slowly on the portal, their cock thrusting shallowly. You speed walk straight for the train station bathrooms and lock yourself inside a stall. Close call but you made it and just in time for their shallow thrusts to turn into full pumps into your slick pussy.
You lean your back on the wall of the stall as your cunt is now being thoroughly pounded by this stranger. You have to crouch to your knees as your orgasm builds up, rubbing your clit with one hand while the other covers your mouth.
Just as you're about to tip over the edge you feel something bigger at the base of the shaft bump against your pussy with each hard thrust. You gasp in realization but it's too late as the monster thrusts their knot past your entrance and you cum hard with a silent scream, spasming and shaking against the bathroom stall.
Their cum fills you to the brim, kept inside by their inflamed knot. They don't stop cumming for several minutes but when they do it takes you several more to compose yourself enough to step out of the bathroom on wobbly legs.
You make the slow and embarrassing walk home while the monster's knot sits snuggly inside your pussy, keeping all that warm cum inside you.
The knot inside you doesn't deflate fully until you're already home and making dinner. You have to grip the counter, shivering slightly as your customer pulls out and goes on with their day having been properly satisfied. The thought makes you feel a strange sense of pride. Just then your phone beeps with a notification from the Portal companies app.
The customer left a tip!
How nice! They also left a review on your page,
"10/10. Best stress relief. Would fuck again."
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I don't think you understand
The mer price fic is absolute perfection.
Like I'm talking a literal masterpiece
This fic will stay engraved in my brain forever. You're an absolutely amazing writer. Thank you ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
anon, THANK you. i am actually thrilled to see other people enjoying mer Price and remora reader as much as i do. please please please let me brain dump more about Price taking remora reader back to his home reef to meet the rest of shark mer 141:
SOAP is enamored instantly because you're so fucking grabbable.
within moments of seeing you peek out from behind Price's tail, he darts around and snatches you up with greedy hands. you're so small!! so tiny and cute when you squirm. and you make noises. 
he handles you like a toy until Price barks at him to cut it out. he does (and Price makes him promise not to be so rough with you; you're fragile, he claims) but Soap is incorrigible.
he follows you for days afterward. just obsessed. he loves chasing your silver tail as you dart around the reef, trying to hide from him. when he catches up to you, you have little choice but to give in and let him manhandle you. he certainly toes the line of whatever Price meant when he said no rough play, you little shit, i mean it.
he pushes the limits of your docile nature. when you do eventually reach the end of your patience and dart out of his hands just to get a break from his grabby claws, guess what? you've triggered his prey drive and he gives chase. he catches you, of course, and then before he can stop himself, he bites you.
your squeal brings Price out into the open instantly and Soap gets an earful again. he grins at you the whole time as you hide over Price's shoulder.
after that, Soap gets a little craftier about it. he eases up just enough to figure out exactly how playful (rough) he can be before you can't take any more. he learns how to stop just shy of making you shriek again. Price is aware, but he's a little too indulgent to stop it. he's happy to let Soap have his fun as long as he doesn't break you. you just have to suck it up. that indulgent nature is how you ended up with Price in the first place, after all.
goes without saying, but Soap is the first one to use you as a sex toy.
GHOST seems to take zero interest in you at first. you're not the sharpest urchin in the tide pool, are you? you can't be if you're here willingly. he figures you won't stick around long, and if you do, you won't stay intact.
you attempt to take up grooming his skin and tail and teeth as you do with the others. he moves away from you without a word, lashing his scarred tail to re-settle himself several feet away.
if you follow and try to groom him again, you earn a deep growl.
you dart off the moment he voices that rumbling displeasure. he notes your skittishness around him and uses it to make you leave him alone.
you, however, have a job to do. you won't be scared off that easily.
after he chases you off that way a few times, you begin to find him and simply sit near him. mirroring him. no big deal. instead of grooming him, you use the time to groom yourself. can't keep everyone else clean if you're grimy, after all.
he notices you and growls to warn you off again. you pretend not to hear.
he flicks his tail in irritation, considers cuffing you over the head to teach you a lesson, but you're too far away to reach without kicking his whole big self up into the water to move several feet. so he elects instead to turn over and ignore you. you keep this up for several days. you sit a little closer every time.
one day, you finish cleaning your own tail fin and casually begin to clean his. he growls. you pause. when he stops and does nothing further, you resume your work. he growls again, and you continue grooming him as if you don't hear him. he keeps growling, but once you begin to run your claws over a stubborn patch of skin to dislodge some stuck grit that's been bothering him, his growling fades into grumbling. and then silence. he lets you keep at it. victory.
this becomes a habit. you seek him out (never the other way around) and typically find him lazing on the floor of some cave or sunning in the reef's shallows. you set to work grooming him thoroughly. all business. he grumbles and growls occasionally when you move his arm or tug your fingers through his hair, but he never stops you.
one day, Soap comes looking for you and finds you in the middle of this little cleaning ritual. Soap nudges you away, insisting you instead let him chase you around the reef. but the moment your hands leave Ghost's rough skin and he hears you protest, he opens his eyes and snaps his teeth at Soap.
Soap pulls back (and so do you) until Ghost grasps your lil wrist and drags you back down wordlessly to where you were sitting and cleaning his shoulder.
Soap smirks at him. Ghost glares back.
"you got something to say, then say it."
"here i thought you were toleratin' it for her sake. seems i misjudged the situation."
"there is no situation."
"whatever you say."
Soap leaves with a flick of his tail. you're so pleased that, when you're finished grooming Ghost, you burrow yourself between his arms as he lays on his side. you nuzzle into his neck and bunt your head up against him, practically purring now that you know you've apparently won him over.
he grabs you, pretending to be disgruntled, but then instead of releasing you he crushes you against his chest again and settles in for a nap. no, you don't get to leave.
GAZ wonders what exactly is going on inside your head. it doesn't escape his notice that your """instincts""" seem to have you by the throat in this situation. but he suspects you're leaning a bit more into that whole brainless servant thing than you're letting on.
he's perfectly happy to let you groom him, flatter him, fetch him whatever baubles or snacks he'd like at the moment; he's perfectly polite to you, too. really likes it when you butter him up. tell him he's got the sharpest teeth and the strongest muscles and the fastest tail in the reef and he'll listen to you for hours, preening in the sunlight as you clean the grime off his fins.
plus, he praises you too, and you love that. that's why it takes you so long to notice he's watching you much more closely than anyone else is.
see, you've already disarmed Price. Soap sees you as a toy more than a fellow mer. Ghost cares more about finding the best places to lurk around than understanding the little mer that shares their reef now. it's fascinating--how you've successfully passed yourself off as a silly, stupid little fish. the more he watches you, analyzes you, the more he wonders what exactly you're getting out of this.
when you groom him each day, he asks you questions. casual ones. are you enjoying the reef? what games do you like to play? how fast can you swim? how many other mer have you met? are you eating enough? what's your favorite food?
it's enough to make you wary, but then, he seems harmless. you're honest with him. it pays off, because when you tell him how much you like the taste of those little brown seabirds that dip into the reef from time to time, you're shocked the next day to find one of those very seabirds sitting dead--neck cleanly snapped--just for you in the shallow alcove next to where Price sleeps (and you by extension).
you find Gaz that instant and insist it's too kind a gift; you can't accept it. what you can't tell him is that it's not a good idea for you to eat in front of them. you eat scraps, and you eat them where of them can see. that's the deal--obviously you do what you do for these four sharks in exchange for protection and ostensibly for food, but you need to avoid looking like you're taking more than your fair share. and to sharks, a species that is notoriously food-aggressive, your fair share must be vanishingly small.
he just smiles at you--so disarmingly that you flounder for a moment. somehow he convinces you to keep the kill.
he begins to turn up--looking amused but not surprised--when you steal scraps of food after the group has had its fill of a fresh kill. it makes you nervous for him to see you with food in hand (much less to watch you eat) but he scoffs at the idea of holding it against you. 
at some point, he begins to bring you fresh meat himself. this is-- it's unacceptable. you're supposed to be the one working while he rests. he's not allowed to give you that kind of comfort. if you're not earning your keep, after all, you don't have a place here. you push his gifts away, busying yourself with some other task. he insists. you decline.
"you're refusing me?" he asks, feigning surprise. "i thought that went against your instincts."
you fluster, ruffling up in what he assumes is a pout. he's trapped you in a catch-22. ultimately, you have to accept the stupid meat-gift because it's what he wants. you find this makes you more irritable than it should. he smirks at you, which serves to irritate you more.
he pulls you into his lap as you eat. and he thinks it's so cute the way you scowl the whole time.
from then on, whenever you act a little too stupid for his liking, he pries and pokes and prods until he draws out that other, haughtier side of you. he has a knack for frustrating you. he loves to sass you, and when you finally drop the act and sass him back, he falls a little bit more in love with you every time.
...
more mer au / masterlist tag
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s-brant · 2 days
Text
Three’s Company
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When Patrick visits his best friend at Stanford University, Art’s new fling finds herself stuck between two very attractive men.
9k (18+)
Warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected p in v, double penetration, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, they’re all pervs, and strong language.
-
The room is stiflingly hot.
There is no air conditioning in her study/fuck buddy's dorm to keep up with the late April heat that has descended upon Stanford's campus so quickly. Three different fans are plugged into outlets around the cramped living space, yet it does little to keep her body cool enough to feel comfortable.
Sleeping with Art was an impulsive decision. The first time was merely weeks ago after he politely asked if she would share her notes from a class he was absent from. They exchanged numbers to organize the meeting, and she ended up talking to him for the better part of an hour in the dining hall. Although she did not recognize it as flirting—the oblivious little thing she is—he shyly commented on seeing her at one of her gymnastics competitions and refused to let her get dinner with her meal credits. Looking back, his intentions should have been obvious to her, yet she does not think badly of him over it. If anything, she likes how wanted he made her feel. He knew what he wanted and ensured that he got it.
They came back to his room to study—only to study, he claimed with his hands held up to proclaim his innocence—for their approaching final exams.
"Good," she said with a teasing lilt to her voice, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and turning to walk in the direction of his dorm building. "Cause it's way too hot to be doing anything else."
They were both laughing as he set down his racquet bag to unlock the door. It was muffled through the wall, but Patrick heard it just fine from where he was perched on the foot of Art's bed with Tears for Fears playing on the unlabeled CD he dug through desk drawers to find. The sound of a distinctly feminine giggle made his mouth turn up at the corners in a smirk. This will be fun to tease his closest friend over until his cheeks flush pink and he has to hide his face in his shirt.
When the door swung open, the laughter died out as soon as they realized they weren't alone, but it was quickly replaced with wide smiles and warm greetings.
Patrick tried not to look her up and down so blatantly. Instead, he chuckled and said, "Art, you conveniently left out that you had a girlfriend on our last call."
To this, Art set down his bag and tackled him onto the bed, starting a minute-long wrestling match that only ended when they began to sweat from the heat and physical activity. It was then that Art remembered to have manners and introduced her. He scrambled to sit upright on the mattress and met her curious gaze.
"Y/N, this is Patrick. I'm sorry, I forgot what day he was coming."
She smiled.
"It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." A pause, and then she turned her attention to Art. "Do you wanna study another time? I don't wanna intrude or anything."
Before Art could open his mouth to tell her to stay, Patrick aimed one of his charming grins at her, then said, "No, please intrude. I'll just hang out. You won't even know I'm here."
The last sentence caused a disbelieving scoff to leave Art’s lips.
As of right now, as she sits on the chair in front of the desk and the boys share the bed, they have gotten halfway through the study guide they meticulously constructed after one of the two classes they share, but it grew boring once an hour and a half passed. They typically end up getting distracted and make out by now, but with Patrick here, neither of them considers that an option. So, she suggests they take a half-hour break to sit, drink, and talk to allow their brains to decompress from the constant stimulation.
He already had a few beers inside the mini fridge beneath his desk, along with a hard seltzer for her seeing that she finds the taste of beer disgusting but quite enjoys being drunk with him. Also kept in the freezer section of the fridge is a pack of ice pops she bought a few days ago when the heat wave began. They prove to be very useful right now as the midday sun bakes the building alive despite the closed curtains and blowing fans.
The CD has moved onto Nine Inch Nails, and she remains quiet to hear it over the sound of the fans as she holds a red ice pop to the side of her neck to cool herself off. Sometime along the way, both of them had stripped down to their underwear after asking her if it was alright because it was so hot. Patrick joked that he was alright with her taking her clothes off too, which she laughed at while Art playfully shoved him over it. Yet now she isn't laughing. Her small exercise shorts are as forgiving as any item of clothing could be in these circumstances, but the long-sleeve shirt she wore because it was the only clean one left is sticking to her skin.
"So, how did you and Art meet?"
Her eyes open to find Patrick glancing back and forth between them.
"It's a boring story, actually," she says. "He asked if I took notes for a class he missed, and now he's stuck with me all the time."
"No, no, okay, maybe it was boring from her perspective, but I was trying to work up the nerve to talk to her for at least a week before then. I went to one of her competitions and recognized her from class," Art explains. "She won, which wasn't surprising at all."
Although she already knew this, this is the first time he has admitted to it out loud, and her stomach flutters at the idea of him becoming so enamored with her from one glance. The popsicle is sweet on her tastebuds when she raises it to her lips and sucks with her eyes looking between them both. As she expected, Patrick shifts a little in place and looks away for reasons not at all related to how she was looking at them while sucking her popsicle.
She chuckles.
"So, you were just interested in befriending me 'cause I win a lot?"
Her tone of voice is taunting, but they know it's all in good fun. Art is quick to play along, shrugging his shoulders to feign aloofness and taking a quick swig of his beer before responding. Their eye contact grows intense in the seconds before he speaks.
"Well, there were some other contributing factors."
"Mm," Patrick hums in agreement. "I've never seen you compete, but you are really hot, so Art's right about that."
This makes her pause for a second, her gaze shifting to find Art's to see if his friend crossed any lines, but he appears strangely calm about it. What she doesn't know is that he has never had any problem sharing, at least, not with Patrick. They shared a room in boarding school, jerked off together to the same girl, and shared the court together—what was his would always be Patrick's, and what was Patrick's would always be his.
"You're flirting with me right in front of him?"
Art interjects, "I'd be shocked if he didn't."
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he's standing up from the bed to get another beer. The dorm room is small, so it only takes a few strides for him to meet her where she sits before the desk and kneels down to open the mini fridge. His left hand braces itself on one of her thighs while the right swings open the fridge door only to find there is no beer left. Rather than complain, he simply grabs one of her least favorite hard seltzer flavors and gives her thigh a firm squeeze before standing up.
The bed creaks beneath his weight when he sits back down on it.
He settles into a comfortable position with his back against the wall and legs spread, balancing the seltzer can on his bent knee. Patrick sits close to him, and she finds it difficult to peel her eyes off the pair of them in their current state of undress. Her gaze mostly lingers on Patrick seeing that she has already explored every inch of Art's lean body in the plentiful amount of times they've hooked up over the past few weeks. But, that being said, she cannot resist looking at Art either. Having two beautiful men laid out before her in their underwear is a treat she never expected to indulge in today. They each have the strong, masculine figures of athletes—showing mostly in their shoulders, biceps, abdomen, and thighs.
When Patrick notices her staring, she turns her gaze to the floor to avoid the embarrassment of being caught. If he did catch her, though, he doesn't call her out for it. Not yet, at least.
With one last bite of her popsicle, she stands from the desk chair to toss it into the small trash can beside his nightstand. It isn't until she lets it go that she realizes how close she now stands to the two of them. Only a foot or so from the bed, her heart begins to hammer in her chest at the proximity.
The way she sees it, she has two options. The first would be to retreat to the desk to let her long-sleeved shirt give her heatstroke while the men get to sit in front of the oscillating fans with their shirts off, or she can strip down to her undergarments and join them on the bed. Needless to say, she opts for the latter of the two.
Y/N lets out an exaggerated groan at the heat and fans herself with her hands for the sake of appearing somewhat innocent in what she's about to do, then reaches down for the hem of her shirt with a huff.
Art and Patrick can do nothing but watch with rapt attention side by side as she pulls the fabric up her torso and over her head. The shirt ends up falling to the floor beside her feet alongside their discarded t-shirts and pants. This leaves her in her most comfortable bra—which is Art's favorite since her nipples can be seen through the mesh material—and a pair of tiny spandex shorts.
Patrick's tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight of her—almost angelic in her beauty—and tries to burn the image into his mind to hold onto forever. Definitely going in the spank bank, he thinks to himself as his cock begins to harden in his boxers. Beside him, Art has been stunned to silence. Even though they've fucked like rabbits since the first time, he isn't sure if he'll ever get used to seeing her like this. Those shorts hug the delicate curve of her hips, as well as that lovely ass that has been sculpted from years of training as a gymnast, and all he can think of is how badly he wants to take them off.
They sit there, dumbfounded, with their mouths hanging open just enough for her to notice and suppress an arrogant smirk. But to allow herself to smirk would be to reveal her cards, and she doesn't want them to see this as anything other than her innocently trying to cool down. Truth be told, she hasn't thought this through. It's not as though she planned this as she was sitting at the desk. It's more of an impulsive, irresistible urge. And if they will tease her so blatantly with their half-naked bodies, she is entitled to do the same.
"You," she says, jutting her chin in Patrick's direction. "Scoot. I wanna sit in front of the fans too."
Underneath it all, she's thankful that she took the time to do her hair the way that makes her feel the most confident and put a little makeup on. Not that either of them is focused on her damned makeup. No, they're far too busy ogling her figure to notice anything north of her collarbones.
After a delayed second of staring, what she said seems to register within him and spark him into action. He's quick to scoot closer to the end of the bed if it means she'll be inhabiting the small space between them. 
She offers a quiet, "Thank you," and crawls onto the bed, turning around and settling into place with her back against the wall. The cool air generated by the fans blows faintly against the front of her sweat-slick chest, and she can't help but shut her eyes and hum in appreciation of it.
With her eyes shut, Art and Patrick are both scrambling to quietly conceal their growing erections. If they don't, it'll be glaringly obvious when she opens her eyes and sees a tent in their underwear on either side of her. Although the life-long friends don't speak, there's an understanding formed between the two of them. Whatever she allows them to have of her tonight, if she allows anything, they'll share nicely. Patrick knows that if anything happens, he is to assume it is a one-time thing unless she or Art expresses a desire for an arrangement of some sort to be made.
Her eyes open again a few seconds later to find them staring at her.
Breaking the silence, she asks, turning her head left to right to address each of them, "Did your mothers never tell you it's rude to stare?"
Patrick doesn't miss a beat.
"Did you know it's rude to be a tease?"
The sound of Art sucking in a deep breath meets her ears, but she doesn't look away from Patrick. Their eyes are locked, and she can see the mischief present in his. It's almost as if he dares her to do something...like he knows that she wants him just as badly as he wants her. Part of her feels guilty, feeling like she should remain loyal to Art even though they aren't exclusive, but a much more dominant part of her desires it too much to resist the temptation.
"Patrick, don't pressure her. If she doesn't want to—"
Her head turning to look at him halts him in his tracks. The look she's giving him...
Much to his shock, she was a virgin when they met a few weeks ago. He questioned her relentlessly, claiming there was no way someone as beautiful, smart, and talented as her could've gone so long without doing it, but she held firm. It was the truth, he realized after she sheepishly relayed the story of how she made out with a basketball player on Halloween and wimped out before it could go further. That first night, she was a bashful, blushing little thing. He treated her with the tenderness and reverence she deserved, first making her come with his tongue and fingers before fucking her. It was so...intimate. Her nails dug into his shoulders when he made that first, breathtaking thrust into her. Just the thought of it was enough to get him hard the next day, but he knew not to expect anything after how shy she was the previous night. Little did he know, he awakened something within her, and from then on, she would be insatiable.
He almost got whiplash from how quickly she changed from a nervous, flushed-faced girl asking him, "Am I doing this right?" when she got on top to a cock-hungry temptress ready to jump onto him at any moment. Truth be told, he found it so fucking hot. To think that he was the catalyst for this behavior was beyond comprehension. Though Art did well enough in his dating life, Patrick was the one that the girls they liked gravitated toward when they were in school together. But she was his, and he thinks, even now, that he'll always have the satisfaction of having gotten to her first no matter what happens tonight.
Y/N shifts around on the mattress so that she's sitting on the side of the bed opposite the wall, facing them with her hands on her knees and legs tucked beneath her ass. Both boys perk up a little at this, and they watch every minute movement she makes and listen to every breath she breathes with unwavering focus.
She meets Art's gaze first before doing anything. Her brows raise in question, and, in answer, he gives her a slight nod. Those pretty, cherry-stained lips of hers curve into a smirk she doesn't even bother to hide in response to this.
"Have you ever fucked the same girl before?" she asks out of pure curiosity, her tone calm and even. Her hands leave her knees to grab one of their thighs each, slowly rubbing up and down to allow her fingertips to brush the edge of their boxers. "Two guys at the same time is a first for me..."
To say that they are in a state of shock would be a gross understatement. Surprisingly, their mouths are not hanging open, and they aren't drooling at the mere thought of what she's proposing.
Somehow, Patrick finds his voice and says, "No." A second of pause, then—"Is this for real? Like you're not just fucking with us?"
The silence that follows is ripe with tension. All that can be heard is the sound of voices passing in the hallway outside of the dorm room and fans blowing on their highest setting. The hands on their thighs come to a halt at the edge of their boxers, and the softened expression on her face shifts into one of unabashed lust as she looks at Patrick.
In answer to his question, she starts to crawl over to him. Seeing that the mattress is a twin, it doesn't take too long for her to reach him and settle into place on top of him. Her hands slide up to cup his face, forcing him to only look at her when she lowers herself onto his lap. The spandex shorts hugging every inch of her figure do little to keep him from feeling the warmth of her cunt against the bulge that formed the second she took her top off.
That first brush of her lips against his is gentle, as though she has him under a trance, but it doesn't take longer than a few seconds for him to snap out of it. Patrick's hands grasp her hips first to keep her from moving away, then they slide down to knead the soft, supple flesh of her ass as he begins to kiss her back hungrily. The kiss quickly begins to descend from her lips to her jaw until he reaches the soft skin of her neck.
While he nips and sucks at the sensitive spot along the side of her neck, Y/N opens her eyes to find Art staring, unblinking, at the pornographic display before him. The sight of him alone—between his messy blonde hair, piercing eyes, and masterfully structured face—is enough to pull a breathy moan from the back of her throat. One would think that she would get used to the way he makes her feel when he looks at her like that, but she never does.
One of the arms wrapped around Patrick's neck uncurls itself to reach for Art, fingers wiggling to beckon him to her. 
He's already invading her space by the time she whispers, "C'mere, baby."
Art practically melts into the two writhing bodies he kneels beside at the casual use of a pet name from her. The word echoes in the farthest reaches of his brain until it is all he can hear on a loop. Even as she grips the back of his neck and pulls him until their mouths collide, his cock twitches from the memory of her calling him baby.
Patrick continues to suck, lick, nip, and kiss his way down her neck as she slips her tongue into Art's mouth with a groan. He leaves marks behind everywhere he goes with the thought of his friend finding them on her for the next week and a half in mind. It only makes it more thrilling for him to imagine the strange mixture of frustration and arousal that will arise within Art when he rediscovers them the next time they hook up.
Slowly, she is guided onto her back by his mouth slipping down to take one of her nipples into it and his callused hands peeling her shorts, along with her soaked cotton thong, down over the swell of her ass. The freshly washed sheets are soft against her bare back as she lays back and watches Patrick worship her breasts with both his mouth and hands. In the midst of their repositioning, Art took it upon himself to squeeze into the cramped space next to Patrick, slotting himself between him and the wall the bed is pressed against. Without a word of warning, he dips his face down to kiss the breast Patrick is cupping in his hand.
She feels hands everywhere, unsure of which belongs to who. Hands grapple for purchase on her hips, her waist, her breasts, her thighs, and her ass—always moving in search of new territory to claim. Although they have no way of coordinating their actions, they seem to move in sync with one another. The second Art's mouth lowers to kiss down her stomach, which flinches inward at the feeling, Patrick follows. If she weren't so overwhelmed with everything right now, she'd likely laugh at how eager they are to race each other down the length of her body.
Their heads bump every few seconds by the time they reach her parted thighs, but they are too focused on getting a taste of her to care at first. They work with the same synchronized harmony they once had as doubles partners, Art tugging her left leg over his shoulder while Patrick shoves her right up and out until her thigh is flush with her chest. She can't help but silently thank her parents for enrolling her in gymnastics lessons years ago. If they hadn't, this would be a tad uncomfortable.
Finally, Patrick tries to shove Art to the side a little, complaining, "Come on, man, you're with her all the time."
To her surprise, it works for the first moment or so. Art places hot, open-mouthed kisses on her inner thigh as Patrick's tongue makes a broad stroke through her, but it isn't long before he grows dissatisfied with his current role in this impromptu threesome and decides to fight back. He doesn't shove or push like Patrick had, instead, he gently nudges his head against Patrick's until they can share her.
Having Art go down on her alone always feels pleasurable, but having both of their mouths on her at the same time is another sensation entirely. It's indescribable. Spit drools from their lips as they kiss her sodden cunt, taking turns flicking the tips of their tongues against her clit for the sake of hearing her moan over and over. From where she looks down at them, they're nearly kissing each other as they eat her out, and she has to tip her head back onto her shoulders to keep them from seeing her smirk.
When she looks back down, she makes a breathy, gasping sound at the sight of them. Patrick is looking up at her with an intensity no man has ever had when looking at her, not even Art, and there is no ignoring the feeling it stirs in the pit of her abdomen.
"Fuck," she whines and pushes herself harder against their faces, but it's never enough. "More—I need more. Please."
Neither one hesitates. In fact, they seem to form a plan without speaking it aloud. As Art's free hand raises from where it palmed his cock through his boxers, Patrick's lips close around her sensitive, puffy clit and start to suck. The tips of Art's middle and ring fingers brush tentatively against her hole, then, teasingly slow, push inside until they're buried knuckle deep.
The contrast of the men as lovers—Patrick being unforgiving and passionate, Art being tender and desperate—threatens to dizzy her. But Art cannot control himself for too long. He often starts slow and gentle, his eyes flooded with genuine affection for whoever is pinned under his body, then loses his composure the farther things go. By the time he's inside of her, he's almost brutal in how hard he fucks her, and it isn't out of malice, it's out of animalistic lust.
So, as per usual, the pace Art sets to begin with shifts into something harder and faster.
Over the sounds of the fans and music playing on the CD player across the room, a symphony of panting breaths, whines, and wet noises can be heard. It wouldn't surprise any of them if the people who were talking in the hallway could hear it, but it's not like they care right now. 
When she closes her eyes and tries to fall back against the mattress, Patrick stops for a second to murmur, "Don't look away," before getting back to work. Something about the way his voice sounds forces her to submit to his demand without hesitation. There's an edge to it. An underlying promise that he will stop and leave her here to suffer if she doesn't listen, so she does. She watches with a slack-jawed expression at how they work diligently to get her off.
The combined sensations of the fingers pumping into her at a steady, rushed pace and the lips enclosed around her sensitive bud push her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Art slips a third finger in and licks between her sticky folds as Patrick sucks her clit relentlessly. Everything they do is motivated by a dire need to take as much of her as they can, as though they can't quite believe what's happening and want to savor it before they wake from the dream. Seeing their desperation only fuels the fire roaring to life inside of her.
They feast on her the way starving men would if presented with food—humming and groaning in satisfaction at the taste of her on their tongues. Through the haze she's fallen under as a result of the present situation, her gaze lifts from where both of their faces are smushed together between her parted thighs to find that they're both humping the mattress. It seems like they don't even realize they're doing it, which, of course, only makes it hotter for her. To think that she wields enough power over them, that she renders them so useless and needy...
Her brows pinch together at the feeling of Art's fingertips finding the sweet spot inside of her.
"Right there," she breathes out in a shaky voice, hand shooting down to grasp anything she can find for support.
It ends up being Patrick's dark hair that is weaved between her fingers and used as her lifeline, tugging nearly every time Art's fingertips find the spot inside of her that makes her throw her head back on the bed and cry out for them. If they didn't have her pinned down, her hips would be lifting to meet every thrust, but she cannot do anything other than take it. Every breath she takes turns rapid, her chest rising and falling dramatically, as the familiar feeling of her impending release grows nearer by the second.
She says, half warning and half pleading with them, "I'm"—The sentence is cut off before it can be said by a high-pitched moan that makes Patrick moan and Art whimper into her—"Please"—What she's pleading for, none of them know, herself included, but she continues to babble nonsensically anyway—"Ah!"
The hand that isn't pulling on Patrick's hair reaches down instinctively for the hand Art grips her thigh with, and she doesn't even need to ask him for it. He entwines their fingers and allows her to squeeze his hand until circulation is lost as she finally feels the wave that was building within her begin to crest.
It hits her harder than she ever knew it could. 
Everything explodes into a sensation of bliss so strong, she loses herself in it. The only thing tying her body down to the earth is the feeling of the hands on her—touching her, fingering her, caressing her, and holding her hand—yet even that is not enough to keep her from floating away into another world entirely for the first few seconds of her orgasm. The muscles in her legs, so exhausted from being forced into a position like this, shake violently with every wave of pleasure rushing through her, and her walls clamp down around the fingers thrusting into her.
If she could live forever in these fifteen seconds, she would, but it soon becomes obvious to her that there's no chance of that happening. Gradually, the intense sensation starts to recede like the tides, and they are both there to help her ride it out to the very end. But once it fully fades, she wriggles beneath them in sensitivity.
Using the hand wrapped up in his hair, Y/N pulls Patrick's mouth away from her clit with a strength he didn't know to expect despite her obvious athletic background, and when Art notices this, he too slows the rhythmic pumping of his fingers inside of her throbbing heat to a stop. Wary of hurting her, he waits another five seconds before slowly pulling them out.
She has gone boneless where she lays on her back with her eyes shut and chest heaving for air.
Knowing she cannot see them, Patrick cuts his best friend a look and jerks his chin in her direction in a silent urging to check on her. Both men start to move at the same time, crawling over her until they reach her face. While Patrick lies beside her and trails his hand up and down her naked, sweat-soaked torso to occupy himself in the time it takes her to recover, Art licks her arousal from his fingers before grabbing her by the chin.
He asks with a teasing inflection, "You still with us?"
Her eyes slowly open to find them both staring at her, and she cannot help the slight smile that comes to her face at this.
"You guys almost killed me," she murmurs. "I think my vision got spotty for a second there."
They allow her another moment to catch her breath and recuperate in the aftermath of what she endured. She takes turns looking at them as she pants for air, laying with her arms above her head and thighs squeezed together due to her current state of sensitivity.
Patrick is the first to break the silence.
"We're not done with you," he says softly, the hand on her chest climbing up until it cradles the side of her neck. "But you know that, don't you?"
"I'd be a little bummed if you were," she replies.
Her head is whipping around at the sound of Art's voice.
"Only a little?"
She pushes herself up from where she's lying supine on the bed, which is now a mess of tangled sheets and sweat, to smack him on the arm. It's all in good fun, of course, and Art is hardly hurt by the playful blow she landed on him. Giggles escape her mouth as they begin to play fight, swatting and trying to pin one another down with Patrick there to spectate. He encourages Y/N to fight dirty, telling her where to strike, which causes Art to curse under his breath and declare him a traitor.
It ultimately ends with her on top, her legs straddling his hips and hands pinning his wrists to the bed. Based on the faraway, longing gleam in his eyes as he looks up at her, Patrick can tell immediately that she only won because Art allowed her to. Because there is something about being pinned to the bed underneath her that turns him on. And she knows it. It's easy to tell by how his erection presses up against her naked center through the fabric of his boxers.
Suddenly, she comes up onto her knees and moves back until she's hovering over his thighs. Her next words are a soft-spoked explanation for why she's reaching for the waistband of his boxers.
"Too much clothes."
But, to her surprise, another pair of hands comes to her aid in shimmying Art's underwear down his hips and legs. The way Patrick sees it, the sooner he helps her get them off, the sooner she'll take his off. And he isn't wrong. As soon as they get the boxers free from Art's body, the garment is tossed to the side without a care in the world. Neither of them looks to see where they landed, they're far too busy leaning in to kiss each other than keep track of their discarded clothing.
Her left hand is wrapped around Art's cock, pumping at a torturously slow pace, as she pulls away from Patrick with a string of saliva connecting their lips.
"Take those off," she says with a pointed look at his crotch.
To say he is sent scrambling to take off his underwear at her command would be an understatement. If this scenario itself wasn't hot enough to make her cunt throb with a desperate need to be fucked, she'd be giggling at his eagerness. But it's hard to find anything funny when she's faced with Patrick standing, one foot on the floor and his other leg braced against the bed at the knee, with nothing to conceal him from her anymore.
It must inflate his ego to heights it has never reached before to see her tongue dart out to wet her lips at the sight of him. The hand stroking Art falters as she admires Patrick's cock. It's about an inch longer than Art's yet equal in girth, curving up a little toward his hair-speckled, defined abdomen. A drop of precome has dripped from his tip, and she has to dip her head forward to get a quick taste. Those pretty lips wrap around him, not pushing down to take the rest of his shaft into her mouth but remaining where she is, flicking her tongue against the slit where the drops of sticky, pearlescent fluid secrete.
A taste is all she allows herself, though.
Her lips pull off of him with a soft popping sound, and she makes sure to maintain eye contact with him as she licks a drop of pre-come off of her top lip.
She turns to look at Art, then Patrick, then back at Art, asking, "How do you want me?"
Seeing that she was a virgin before she started seeing Art, she figures she isn't qualified to direct this in a way that'll be comfortable for everyone involved. No, if she had to bet, Patrick has the most experience between the three of them—with Art following closely behind—and he will have no problem taking control from here based on how he has acted thus far.
To their surprise, it's Art who answers first. 
Patrick was still in a faraway daze from having her mouth around his cock only to be kicked when he was down by the question she asked. How do you want me? God, it's like she's trying to kill them.
"On my lap."
Art pushes himself up from the mattress and repositions so he sits on his knees in front of them, reaching for her hips to pull her closer without a second of hesitation. Her arms instantly reach for his shoulders to steady herself as she maneuvers into the exact position he had in mind. Buried beneath the music that has become white noise to them and the fans running on their highest setting, he thinks he hears her breath hitch in her throat once she's straddling his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against her clit.
Absentmindedly, she starts to grind against him, coating him in the slick arousal that seeps from her, but it's slow. A tease compared to what's coming next.
"Patrick," he says, his voice unwavering despite the excitement that makes his stomach churn. His hand slides down from her neck, caressing her breast as it passes by at a lazy speed, until he takes hold of himself and pumps a few times—as if he isn't hard as a fucking rock already. Over her shoulder, he meets his friend's intense stare. "If you wanna fuck her, you should probably get on the bed."
And while he would usually fire back something equally witty or taunting, Patrick cannot manage to do anything but nod. There's something about seeing Art this way that subdues him. He would like to think that the sole reason he's standing naked in front of his best friend is because there's a girl involved, but that isn't true. Not completely. Although Art would never admit to himself that he feels the same way, there's something familiar about this. Comfortable. Right.
The mattress dips with Patrick's shifting weight, squeaking a little beneath his knees until he settles into place behind her. His chest presses against her back, and his hand reaches up to grab her jaw, guiding her head to tilt so he can kiss her neck while Art lines himself up with her. She feels Patrick's cock pressing against her ass as the broad tip of Art's sinks inside of her.
Having Patrick's face buried in her neck, her shoulder, and back to her neck again provided her and Art a rare second of private intimacy. Her eyes, glazed over with lust, lock into his and refuse to look away. The intensity present in his gaze does not frighten her. If anything, it sends a rush of adrenaline through her body, and she takes a second to admire his soft, wide eyes. She's never mentioned it aloud before, but she has always been fascinated with making eye contact with him due to his right eye. Half of the iris is a striking, clear shade of blue while the other is a warm brown hue.
"Fuck," he says under his breath at the feeling of her squeezing down around him, her tight cunt resisting a little until she relaxes and sinks down until there's nothing left to take.
There's nothing that compares to the feeling of the first thrust he makes.
Every time, it makes her bite her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. To feel him so deep is almost undoing in itself. Then she feels another hand slide between her legs, and her mind goes utterly blank. Everything outside of this room falls away the second Patrick starts to rub her clit in gentle, languid circles to help her adjust to the stretch of Art inside of her. Patrick's lips lavish every accessible inch of her bare skin with kisses as his friend, with a hand on each of her hips, starts to lift her up and down at an unhurried pace.
Their noses and lips brush without completely touching. When she pushes her face closer to Art's, hoping to lock lips with him, he pulls away for the sake of seeing her grow hot in the face from embarrassment. The mouth worshipping the back of her neck curves up into a smirk in reaction to the games Art plays with her. Who knew he's just as fun in bed as he is out of it? Certainly not Patrick.
She mutters, voice breathy and weak, "Feels so good..."
"Yeah?" Patrick murmurs into her skin and presses his fingers hard against her clit. "Tell me how he feels."
If he could see her the way Art can right now, he'd have to suppress a chuckle at how her brows pinch together at the command. Regardless of her sudden shyness, the words he says only make her ride Art harder. Over her shoulder, Patrick searches for those pale blue eyes only to find them staring through him already. Every smooth rocking motion of her hips pushes her ass against his neglected erection, providing him with a brushing touch before pivoting away again.
"He feels"—she says, chest rising and falling faster—"He's so hard." Her sentences are hardly coherent. "Perfect—mmm—fucking me so deep." One of her hands reaches to tug his down to press it against the southernmost part of her abdomen. "Feel."
With her palm molded over the back of his hand and forcing him to push down on her belly, Patrick can hardly keep from groaning at the subtle bulge of Art's cock moving in and out of her. It's strangely intimate for the three of them to share this experience, but for him to feel every thrust through her is more than he anticipated.
Unable to fight what instinct drives him to, Patrick shifts his hips until the angle of her grinding against him allows his tip to brush up against the hole she and Art have yet to touch. He doesn't do anything more, not without her asking for it, but it's clear to both Art and Y/N that he desperately wants to. All of this physical affection shared between the two of them has made Patrick needy and jealous, so she decides to grant him mercy.
She reaches behind herself blindly to guide him elsewhere, nudging him against the hole Art is already filling. It takes them a couple of seconds to understand what she means in doing this, but, once it clicks, they start to go a little crazy. For the moment, she has stopped bouncing on Art's cock for the sake of allowing Patrick to push in beside him, and he has to surge forward to kiss her. If he doesn't distract himself with a kiss, he'll be too tempted to move.
As Art kisses her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth and caressing her own, Patrick's hand wraps around her throat for leverage with his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His hand wraps around where hers grips his cock to guide it to her entrance, and with his help, they manage to squeeze the tip in.
Her jaw drops at the overwhelming sensation, and the sloppy kiss is interrupted when her head rolls back onto Patrick's shoulder. Art doesn't seem to care, though. Now that her head is tipped back, her neck is exposed for him to mark, and he takes advantage of the opportunity as soon as it presents itself. His lips brush against Patrick's fingers a few times as he kisses her fervently, sucking hard on the delicate skin that has already been bruised by his dear friend.
"You're beautiful," Art whispers into her neck between kisses. "So, so beautiful."
Taking it slow for her sake, Patrick has to force himself into her inch by inch, stretching her little cunt to take far more than she's accustomed to. But, as hard as it is, it works. After another few moments of him pushing in and pausing to let her adjust, he finally bottoms out with his cock flush against Art's. Her walls clamp down around them tightly. They both share a nervous look at this, wondering if they'll manage to last longer than thirty seconds if it already feels this good.
Slowly, she raises her head from where it slumped against Patrick's shoulder and meets Art's intense stare with one of her own. His hand raises to cup the side of her face, his fingers grazing against Patrick's, and he brushes his thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip. Every breath taken between the three of them is labored.
Pulling her lip down with his thumb, he asks, "Feeling okay?"
A half-second later, Patrick chimes in.
"If it's too much, you have to tell us."
Not a question, not a request, but a demand. The way he said it left no room for debate, so she nods in compliance and responds with an eagerness that neither man can miss, "M'fine, please, just fuck me..."
Patrick does not need to be told twice.
Having been sidelined for too long and forced to watch them fuck without him, he pulls out slowly, then cants his hips back against her ass with a force that takes her breath away. Amidst this, Art cannot do anything but let his face fall forward into her chest and whine in ecstasy. Just the movement of Patrick's cock rubbing against his with every thrust renders him useless. He knew it would feel better than any sex he'd had before, but this...He'll likely spend the rest of his life chasing the hedonism they are experiencing tonight.
One of her arms reaches behind her to grab Patrick's hip and dig her nails in hard while the other closes around Art's neck to pull both of them as close as can be. And now that he has forced himself back from the edge of a premature release, Art begins to move too, searching for a rhythm that feels right. Soon enough, he manages to find it. Both of their heads lift to look at each other, faces inches apart with their chins pressing on her shoulder, and they work with the same synchronicity they had while eating her out not even fifteen minutes ago.
She turns her head to the side to watch their stare-down as they rut into her like feral animals—utterly insatiable and overcome by their baser instincts. And it's only now that it occurs to her that, underneath it all, they want each other as desperately and pathetically as they want her. Patrick's gaze relentlessly bounces back and forth between Art's eyes and lips, and it makes her smirk to herself. The pleasure of fucking her as one, their pulsing cocks rubbing together in the warm walls of her cunt, has lowered their inhibitions, and the idea of being intimate with one another isn't as daunting as it would be if they were fully aware.
Leaning in to brush her cherry-flavored lips against Art's ear, she whispers, "I want you to kiss him."
The arm looped around the back of his neck pulls tighter in encouragement, bringing his body so close to hers that she can feel his ribs expanding with every breath. His only reaction to her request is a quick glance at her face once she pulls away from his ear with a sensuous lick as a parting gift. It's almost as though he doesn't believe what she's saying, but the reassuring expression she wears tells him that it is real. She truly wants him to see him kiss his best friend, not only for their enjoyment but hers as well.
One second, he's looking at her, and the next, he's slotting his lips against Patrick's with a passion previously only reserved for her. Their hands both grapple for purchase on her sweat-slick body, Art aggressively kneading her breasts and Patrick squeezing her hips for dear life, as they moan into each other's mouths.
As they kiss each other hungrily, Y/N has nothing left to do but bask in the tension swelling inside of her. There's something about how wrong this situation feels to her that makes it so much more arousing. Girls are always raised with the idea that promiscuity lessens their value, and she was not an exception. Having been raised in a family of devout believers, she hadn't kissed a boy until she was seventeen years old. The next person she kissed was Art, and in the time since their first kiss, he has thoroughly corrupted her.
And even as distracted as he is by the all-consuming, wet kiss he's engaged in, Art feels her cunt start to squeeze around their cocks and immediately drops one of the hands on her breasts between her splayed thighs. His finger rubs in tight circles on her clit in hopes that she will reach her end before he and Patrick come pathetically soon.
Her body jerks where it's trapped between them when his fingers make contact, pulling their focus away from each other for the first time since their lips touched. Patrick reaches up to hold her neck in one hand and forces her face to the side so both of them can look at every subtle expression she makes. 
"Don't stop," she pleads, eyes glazed over. "M'so close, Art"—Every merciless thrust elicits a high-pitched whine from her—"Patrick, please!"
The body trapped between them has gone boneless and twitchy, utterly useless at holding herself up or aiding them in any way. But they wear it like a badge of honor. With her face falling forward into Art's neck, she loses her grasp on all that is around her and lets them prop her up to fuck her like a toy existing solely for their gratification.
With one hand cradling the back of her head and the other between her thighs, still dutifully rubbing her clit, Art asks under his breath, "Isn't she fucking perfect?"
Although it was a question meant for Patrick, she can't help how she moans and clenches her walls around them when she hears it. Panting breaths from the three of them flood the sweltering dorm room, but they are too far gone to notice or care how much sweat drips off of their bodies onto one another. It's almost hard to get a firm grip on her as a result of it, but they manage to keep her in place by smushing their bodies as close as physically possible on both sides of her.
Patrick bucks his hips up into her with a recklessness that gives away how close he is to his climax.
He says, "Oh, God, yeah." The hand still collaring her delicate neck squeezes just enough to take her breath away for a second. However, once he released his hold on her, that hand moved to wrap itself up the roots of her hair. "Best pussy I've ever had. So fucking tight, it's like she wants us to come inside her." A pause, then, "Is that what you want?"
A second passes of silence from her, and he sharply tugs back on her hair until her face is no longer hidden in Art's neck. This allows them to drink in the sight of her—face twisted up in pleasure and mouth gaping open.
He asks again, "Is that what you want?"
Her response is immediate.
"Yes, yes, yes," she murmurs incoherently and takes quick turns to look between their faces. If the expressions they wear are any indication, it won't be long before her wish is fulfilled. "I'm—mmm-gonna come! I need you to fill me up, please, please!"
To this, Art rubs her clit faster while maintaining eye contact with her and finally lets go of whatever remaining scraps of self-control he has left. Knowing how close she is pushes them closer themselves, and they start to pound her hard. Hard enough that even they, as soon-to-be professional athletes, have difficulty sustaining this intense degree of exertion.
The arm that she looped around his shoulders is still there, but now her hand is sliding down from the back of Art's neck to explore the toned musculature of his upper back. Under her searching palm, she can feel his muscles contracting and relaxing beneath his pale skin.
To both her and Art's surprise, the world begins to shift in their peripheral vision until he falls flat against the mattress on his back with his length still sheathed inside of her. It takes a second for their brains to catch up with what happened and deem Patrick responsible for the position change. He laid his hands flat on her back and pushed with just the right amount of force to pin Art to the mattress beneath them.
Art says, breathless, "I can feel you squeezing us, baby, just let go."
Hearing those words sets fire to her blood, and that, paired with the toe-curling sensation of them pressing deep inside of her, hitting that spot over and over and over, is what tips her over the edge.
Patrick keeps pulling on her hair to force her head up so that they can feel and watch her come, and what a beautiful sight it is. Art, the lucky bastard, is face to face with her as she tenses up with the onslaught of her climax. But he can see the side of her pretty, flushed face and drink up every little sound she makes, so he doesn't feel left out in any way. No, he is experiencing this right beside Art. They're both trapped inside of her, pumping into her throbbing heat and letting themselves be swept away into oblivion by the feeling of her coming undone.
She digs her nails into Art's skin hard enough to hurt as she whines and writhes between them with each pulse of pleasure that runs through her, and it isn't until she's starting to come down, riding out the high, that she feels them spill into her at the same time. Every sensation attached to it prolongs her orgasm—the throbbing, the spreading warmth, and the dying undulations of their hips that grind their cocks together within her. And beyond the physicality of the act, just knowing that they're filling her to the brim with their come makes her head spin from how fucking hot she finds it.
It isn't long before their thrusts slow into a sensuous grinding as they come down from it together, then come to a full stop to keep from overstimulating themselves. They both are starting to go soft, panting and leaning against her limp body in exhaustion, and know they wouldn't be able to continue even if they wanted to.
Her head is laid on Art’s shoulder with Patrick’s nose nuzzling her neck. There's nothing they can do except remain still and try to recover from the euphoria that has rendered them useless, so that is precisely what they do. With their bodies nearly melting together from the heat, the three of them hold onto each other for support until they manage to return to full consciousness after what they went through.
It isn't until another couple of moments have elapsed that Patrick and Art start murmuring to one another while she remains slumped between them. A second later, both pairs of hands are squeezing her hips; lifting her off of their softening cocks, slowly, gently, and minding her sensitivity.
The three of them collapse side by side on the twin bed, bodies squeezed together like sardines, and she finally comes back down from the clouds her head floated into at the feeling of them touching her. It isn't sexual. No, they wouldn't dream of putting her through anything more than she could handle right now. Both touches are tender and featherlight—Art's hand molds over her breast simply to cup it as they cuddle while Patrick brings her hand up from her side to brush a kiss over her knuckles.
The silence continues to stretch on, then—
"We're definitely gonna have to do that again," she says, turning her head to look at each of them before laying her cheek against Art's shoulder. "That is, if don't mind sharing me."
His gaze softens, the hand cupping her breast ghosting up over her skin until it finds her and Patrick's entwined hands.
"I don't mind one bit."
-
Thank you for reading this! I probably won’t write any more Challengers fics but I saw the movie like five times in theaters and needed to crank this out to satisfy the part of me that is obsessed with the hotel scene. I would really appreciate a comment to let me know what you thought if you’re open to that 🫶🏻 The oral part of this fic was inspired by these two (1) (2) I read, so def give them a read cause they're great!
815 notes · View notes
authorhjk1 · 2 days
Note
Any chance that there will be a karina sequel for the main story where she would come back begging for more or begging to be a side chick/mistress or something?
Interlude: Training
(Karina X Ahin X Male Reader)
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"What is going on here?"
You step into your living room with a frown on your face. You just came back from a morning run on the beach. Ahin was still sleeping when you left and you didn't expect her to be up already. And you definitely didn't expect to see another woman with her.
"Hi babe."
Ahin gets off the couch. You raise an eyebrow as you realize that she is wearing a long white dress. But then you remember that she had some sort of charity to attend to today.
You reluctantly lean down to kiss her back. Despite Ahin getting off on you sleeping with other women, it's weird to see her with someone you've slept with. But then again, Karina is also working with her anyways.
"Hi."
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You can tell she is a little shy right now. Her outfit indicates that she must have come over right after a performance or something.
"Just give us a minute."
Ahin turned towards Karina and is now leading you into the kitchen.
"What is she doing here?"
Your girlfriend doesn't let go off your hand.
"She wants you."
"I will take her with me once I'm ready for work."
You are well aware of your promise to Ahin. No other woman in this house. And yet, you are barely able to hold yourself back. You haven't seen Karina in a couple of weeks. And it feels like she becomes more beautiful everytime you see her.
Ahin catches your impatience. A sly smile appears on her lips.
"She isn't here, just because she wants you to fuck her now."
You are confused. Judging from her outfit, you thought she had something important on her mind, having to get here immediately after her performance. And you don't know what else she would want from you.
"Karina doesn't want you to fuck her only today."
Ahin's eyes seem to tell you something, but you are still in the dark.
"Then what does she want?"
"You."
That word makes you frown.
"What? Doesn't she know we..."
"She does. The two of us talk, you know?"
"I know. So why...?"
"She-"
"I need you."
You look past Ahin. Karina is standing behind her, hands clasped in front of her body.
"I get that. But-"
"You don't."
She hesitates, before she takes a step forward, now standing next to your girlfriend.
"I need you. Really need you."
You don't get what she means. She didn't catch feelings, did she?
"I-I always get so jealous when I hear another idol talk about you. It makes me hate them. Like they are stealing something from me."
You glance at Ahin, which Karina seems to have caught.
"It's different with Ahin unnie. She is your girlfriend. You love her. I get that."
Karina's words now flow out of her, almost as if she is rapping. It seems like she held this in for a while now. You have to concentrate to be able to catch every word. Your Korean is still not perfect.
"I respected her too much to say something until now. And-And I don't even know what this is. I-I can't be in love with you, right?"
A shiver runs down your spine. Is she serious?
"I-I mean the only thing we do is having sex. And I don't even know a lot about you. And yet, I-I always get so jealous when..."
Ahin strokes Karina's shoulder to calm her down a little.
The younger of the two takes a deep breath.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I need more of you. I'm not satisfied with only meeting you occasionally. I need you more regularly."
You can tell she is biting back an 'always'.
"Have you thought about the possibility that this isn't me, but-"
"But the sex?"
Karina shakes her head.
"I wish. I wish I could just tell you I've become a sex addict, thanks to you."
You feel oddly proud. Although you shouldn't be. If that's true, it is a little concerning.
"But it's not sex in general. It's sex with you."
"Okay."
You need a little time to digest what just happened.
Before you are able to say anything else, Ahin's voice makes you look at her.
"I-I'm willing to share."
She is obviously hesitant, but after another moment of thinking, she finally nods. Determined.
"I'm willing to share you with Karina."
"But aren't you already...?"
"Sharing you with other girls? Kind off. But no. I know you fuck other girls all the time. But you always change it up a little. It's not a problem, since you don't focus on anyone in particular."
Ahin takes Karina's hand.
"But I'm willing to make an exception."
You are quiet, waiting for her to finish. This is something you've never thought of. The fact that your girlfriend let's you sleep with other women still feels like a dream. But what is she proposing now?
"Karina sleep with you whenever and wherever she wants. Including this house. But don't expect me to just ignore the two of you, when I'm here too. When I'm here, I always come first."
Karina nods in agreement.
"Good. You can come over as much as you want. I can clear out a drawer for you in the bedroom. I doubt you would be staying in one of the guest rooms."
Ahin turns to you.
"If that's okay for you of course. The other rules still stand though. Don't have feelings for anyone but me. And don't get her pregnant."
"I doubt that anyone of us would want that."
You chuckle, but you catch Karina biting her lip.
How much of you does she really need?
"It's settled then. Since (y/n) still has to shower after his run, I'm guessing you would like to help him out?"
Karina nods eagerly. You can't help but get hard at the thought. If Karina is staying at your place regularly from now on, you wonder if every single shower you are going to take is going to turn into a threesome.
As Karina leaves you and Ahin to head towards the bathroom, you pull your girlfriend into a kiss.
"I know that this can't be easy for you."
"I would do anything to make you happy."
She kisses you back.
"What about your own happiness?"
"You don't get it, do you?"
You raise an eyebrow as Ahin laughs at you.
"All of this confirms that I'm with the best man I could ever have. Every female celebrity in this country wants you. But I'm the only one you love."
You lean down to kiss her forehead.
"I really do love you."
When you pull back, you look behind her as if you are looking after Karina.
"What if she does want more than just sex?"
"I don't know. But as long as you are loyal, I'm not really worried anyway."
"Wait. I have an idea."
When Ahin sees your mischievous grin, a devilish smile forms on her lips, while she listens to your proposal.
Karina moans as she gets woken up. Except for the blowjob she gave you in the shower yesterday, the rest of her day went on as usual. After you and Ahin picked her up from her dorm, Karina only then realized what she got herself into.
The three of you stayed up for quite a while. Despite her being a hard working dancer, she has never felt this sore before. Her thighs still feel like pudding. She can't see them, covered by the blanket, but red marks are all over them. Her pussy feels used, but in a good way. Like she got rid off all the stress she had inside of her before. Hickeys cover her entire body. Mostly her chest and thighs. But she vividly remembers Ahin, biting and sucking on her neck, while you made her impale herself on your cock. A feeling Karina will probably never forget.
It's your girlfriend's voice that finally makes her open her eyes.
"Good morning, sleepyhead. Breakfast is ready."
Before she can reply, Ahin is already gone. A little disoriented, Karina throws the blanket off her tired body. She looks around your bedroom, trying to figure out what to wear. Despite spending the night, she wasn't able to get a good look at the room. She was busy getting plowed into the mattress, while Ahin told her what a good slut she is.
Karina feels shame flowing through her veins. She already felt bad for asking Ahin to share her boyfriend. And although it was dirty talk last night, it might be what Ahin actually thinks of her.
The young girl's clothes are still downstairs. She left them there last night. For a moment, she thinks about borrowing something from Ahin, but she quickly shakes her head. She is already using her boyfriend. She can't also steal her clothes.
"There you are."
Ahin gives her a sweet smile as Karina steps into the living room. While Ahin is fully dressed, Karina is only wearing one of your shirts.
"Please. We already ate."
Ahin points at the full plate on the table.
"Where is (y/n) by the way?"
Your girlfriend chuckles.
"Why? Are you having second thoughts about this?"
"N-No!"
Karina quickly shakes her head.
"He is working. (Y/n) will be home later. Maybe around six."
As she sits down at the table, Karina glances at the clock in the kitchen. 12 pm. Was last night really this hard on her?
Karina only realizes that Ahin is standing behind her, after she finished her breakfast.
"Wait. What are you doing?"
She is too surprised to answer. Her fork in her right hand and her phone in the left.
"Don't worry about it."
Ahin has already tied Karina's legs to the chair by now.
"Would you mind taking the shirt off?"
"What? Why?"
Despite her questions, Karina finds herself doing what she is told. She feels awkward sitting naked in your living room, while Ahin is fully dressed and tying her to the chair.
"Let me make some room."
Instead of pushing the table somewhere else, Ahin takes the chair Karina is sitting on and pushes it towards the middle of the room.
"What is going on?"
Karina looks around. Her body is completely tied to the chair. The three of you came up with a safe word for her last night. Would Ahin still listen to her now?
"Look at this."
After stepping in front of her, Ahin takes something out of her pockets.
"That-That's a used condom."
"Correct. It's (y/n)'s. From last night."
"But-But I saw him cum in your mouth. Several times."
Karina feels her cheeks heating up as she says those words out loud.
"He did. But he made me spit it out."
"Why?"
"So you can have it."
"What do you mean?"
Ahin starts to open the nod she put into the condom last night.
"Open your mouth."
Her voice isn't loud or demanding. Just dominant. Just giving simple orders. And Karina, despite hesitating, does what she is told.
"Good girl."
Ahin praises her, before she holds the condom over Karina's mouth. A thick globe of your cum falls down, landing on her tongue.
"Don't swallow."
Karina doesn't move, but your taste is already lingering on her tongue. It takes her a surprising amount of self-control to not just gulp it down.
Ahin takes Karina's face into her hands, before leaning down. Her tongue invades the younger girl's mouth. Karina moans as your cum swirls around her whole mouth. Ahin slowly steals it from her and eventually stands straight again. Karina's mouth is completely empty. Only your taste remains.
With envy in her eyes, the younger girl watches how Ahin takes a big gulp, swallowing your cum.
"I expected you to put up more of a fight."
"Y-You caught me off guard."
The older one chuckles.
"That just means you don't appreciate this enough, yet."
She holds up the condom.
"Let-Let me try again."
Karina's desperate tone makes Ahin smile. She holds the condom over Karina's mouth again, slowly letting some of your cum fall onto your tongue.
"Keep it in your mouth."
To the younger one's surprise, Ahin just leaves her. She walks out of the living room, without looking back. A minute or two later, she reappears. A small pink object is lying in her hands.
"Did you swallow?"
Karina shakes her head, unable to talk with your cum in her mouth.
"Good girl."
Karina's cheeks heat up at the praise.
She feels Ahin working on her waist after she leans down. She wants to know what she is doing, but she can't move her head, without letting your cum fall out of her mouth.
A shiver runs through her as the small pink object touches her clit. The cold plastic gives her goosebumps. Karina knows what this is.
"Now, you don't have to do anything. Just sit here and enjoy yourself."
Ahin leans down, her face close to Karina's.
"But don't swallow. You are only allowed to swallow when you cum. Understood?"
After a moment, Karina hesitantly nods.
"Very good."
Ahin pats her head, before taking a step back again.
The younger girl's eyes dart down to the pink remote in her hand, which she only noticed now.
Karina's breath hitches as she sees Ahin pressing a button. The vibrator on her clit starts to do it's work. The setting is low at first. Enough to make Karina struggle to stay cool, but not enough to get her off.
She looks up at Ahin, not sure where else to look.
Her body starts to tremble, when Ahin turns it up a notch. Karina's spread thighs quiver. The urge to rub them together overwhelms her. It almost feels like your cum in her mouth becomes heavier.
"Try to breath through your nose, sweetie."
Ahin's voice drips with honey as she strokes Karina's hair.
Hidden from the younger girl's view, her finger presses the button once more.
A moan escapes Karina's lips, almost making her swallow instinctively. It's getting harder for her now. Her breathing becomes heavier. The vibration on her clit is now getting her off. She can feel herself starting to get wetter.
"Good girl."
Ahin kisses Karina's cheek.
The younger one's nostrils flare as she tries to steady her breathing. The warmth in her core starts to grow. She desperately wants to cum. She wants to feel your sticky seed flow down her throat. And yet, she tries to hold on, afraid she is going to spill something.
"You are almost there. You are doing so well."
Ahin's soothing voice isn't helping her at all. It only encourages Karina to close her eyes. She focuses on her breathing, trying to blend out the fact that she is tied to the chair, your cum filling her mouth.
Karina almost lets out a yelp as she feels Ahin's hand on her chest.
"Sweetie, you are doing such a good job."
The constant praise makes Karina moan. She feels validated. As if Ahin is telling her that it's okay to be a slut. That it's actually good. That it's a good thing Karina is addicted to another woman's boyfriend.
"If I remember correctly, you liked this a lot last night."
Karina almost squeals in pleasure as she suddenly feels Ahin's lips capture one of her nipples. She could swear that a drop of your cum is slowly running along the wall of her throat. It's slowly making it's way to her stomach. Sinful evidence of her almost failed attempt to keep her composure.
Ahin's lips and tongue feel more like torture than pleasure at this point. She switches between both nipples, giving them equal attention. Meanwhile, the vibrator on her clit makes Karina's tremble even more. She can tell her incoming orgasm isn't that far away anymore. A minute at most. Maybe. Or maybe only a couple of seconds.
Karina's nails dig into her own hand as she tries to find an outlet for her pleasure. Since they are tied to the chair, she can't hold onto something else.
Ahin delivers the final blow, when she lets her hand wander over Karina's midriff. It passes the pink vibrator and reaches her pussy.
The older girl lets it circle around her lower lips and Karina's resistance breaks. Her body trembles and shakes as she orgasms in the middle of your living room. She is almost completely silent. That last remaining functional part of her brain is doing its best to keep your cum in her mouth. It's an almost impossible task.
But Karina manages to hold on. Once her orgasm subsides, she opens her eyes. She is greeted by a smiling Ahin, who is patting her head again.
"Good girl."
Despite her desperate longing to take a big gulp, Karina waits for permission. Only then does she realize that the vibrator is off.
"You earned it. Swallow his cum."
Karina closes her eyes again, before she gladly lets your thick seed flow down her throat. She never felt so rewarded. It feels to her like your cum tastes ten times better than it usually does.
When Karina finally opens her eyes again, Ahin is holding up the condom again.
"You know the drill, sweetie."
Ahin sends you another picture as you step out out of your Ferrari. Just like the last one, it's mainly Karina, who is still tied to the chair. Her body is covered by sweat now. She looks tired and worn out.
Stepping inside your house, you hear moaning from inside the living room.
"Almost there, sweetie. You are doing good."
Your girlfriend's voice makes you smile as you walk towards it.
The scene in front of you makes you instantly hard. Karina is still bound to the chair. Her mouth is almost overflowing with your cum. You catch a couple of used condoms decorating her thighs. Her black hair is sticking to her forehead and cheeks. Meanwhile, Ahin is standing behind her, leaning over and fingering Karina to another orgasm.
You watch as she silently climaxes, her body fighting against the chair and the ropes. You wonder how many times she already came like this. It seems like Ahin just emptied the last condom in the younger girl's mouth, who is now swallowing it's former contents with a big smile on her face.
"Babe!"
Ahin sees you first. She walks over and kisses you, pulling your head down to match her hight.
"H-Hi."
You smile at Karina.
"Would you mind letting her go?"
Ahin walks back and starts working on the ropes that keep Karina in place. You see deep red marks as they come off one by one. But Karina doesn't really seem to care. Once they are off, she gets off the chair.
Her legs are shaking, but she manages to walk over to where you are standing. Her nude body presses against yours, her tits rubbing against your shirt as she looks up at you.
"I-I need your cum. Please. I really need it."
Her whines make you chuckle. It seems like it worked. To prevent Karina from catching any further feelings, you had to make her so addicted to your cum that she can't think about anything else when she sees you.
"Ride me first."
You sit down on the couch, Karina following you.
"Don't mind if I order take out. I'm starving."
Ahin walks away as if you and Karina are just going to watch a movie or something.
Instead, Karina quickly tears your pants off your body, before straddling you.
"Please cum quickly. I need it."
"You already mentioned that."
You bite your lip as Karina sinks onto your shaft. Her pussy wraps around your cock as she glides down to the base.
"Oh god!"
She moans louder than ever before today as she starts bouncing in your lap. Her tits do the same right in front of your face. You can only contain yourself for a couple of moments, before you take them into your hands. You play with them, while Karina keeps riding you.
Just as Ahin did earlier, you start sucking on her nipples. It makes Karina moan louder as she throws her hips towards yours.
"Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!"
Now that she doesn't have to keep your cum in her mouth, she can finally voice her pleasure freely.
"Please make me cum on your cock. Please!"
You place your hands on her waist and start using them to control her movements. You make her pick up the pace quickly.
Karina moans and mewls as she is forced to ride you as fast and as hard as she can. She tries her best to make you cum quickly. She tries to keep eye contact. She tries to flex her abs. She tries to tighten her walls. Anything that makes you want to blow your load into her needy mouth.
After ordering teokbokki, Ahin has come back into the living room. Without a word, she walks up to the two of you, reaching around Karina's waist.
The younger girl moans loudly as she finds herself in a similar position from last night. Ahin's hand starts to play with her clit, while she keeps bouncing on your cock. You keep your face buried in her tits, while Ahin latches onto her neck.
"Gonna cum!"
Karina closes her eyes, throwing her head back, almost headbutting Ahin, who quickly moves out of the way. Your girlfriend starts whispering dirty things into her ear again.
"Be a good slut. Cum on his cock."
She keeps rubbing the younger ones clit, while your grip on her waist increases in strength. You are going to leave marks again.
"You are now his cum dump. His cum drunk whore."
"Please!"
With a loud plea for you to cum in her mouth, Karina orgasms on top of you. Her pussy pulsates around you, her walls squeezing you again and again.
"Get off. I'm gonna cum."
Without even noticing it, Karina swallows by herself after having orgasmed. As if Ahin trained this reflex into her.
With the older girl's help, she manages to slide off of you. Your cock is drenched in her juices. Ahin leans forward and takes you into her mouth. You groan as her skilful tongue dances around your cock. She cleans you up, almost making you cum in her mouth in the process.
"Karina, open your mouth."
Like the good slut she has now been trained to be, Karina opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out. You feel Ahin's tongue swirl around your tip one last time, before you give yourself a couple of quick strokes.
Karina lets out a deep moan as she feels your warm cum hit her tongue, her mouth, her lips and parts of her face. She almost orgasms again without even touching herself. Her brain now connecting your cum with her own pleasure and orgasms.
Before she can savor your taste comfortably, Ahin captures her lips with her own. While for you it looks like they are just kissing, the two women on her knees fight a fierce battle with their tongues. Ahin leans in further and a moment later, Karina finds herself lying on the floor of your living room, Ahin on top of her.
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unpretty · 2 days
Note
Do you have links where it says that coursera certificates are meaningless? Because i legit thought that they could help with my resume and fuck me Google and duckduckgo are useless
i don't have a source or anything, that's just what i've picked up from years of being around people in technical fields. a lot of certs (including official ones from microsoft, comptia, whatever) tend to be looked down on as resume padding that doesn't actually convey competence, and experience is preferred. like, having literally anything on github or in a portfolio is going to reflect better on you than some certs. buuuut if the person hiring you (or is responsible for your raises) isn't tech savvy they don't necessarily know any of that, so if you can afford it and think it might give you even a little leg up then you might as well.
and obviously this doesn't necessarily apply to some of the stuff coursera has available, since in some cases that includes, like. actual collaborations with universities for degrees or whatever.
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23victoria · 1 day
Text
“what did you just call me?”❁
f1 grid x fem!reader
ft. lewis hamilton, max verstappen, lando norris, oscar piastri, charles leclerc, carlos sainz
authros note: thank you anon for the request!!! hope you like it🤍! just fluff and comedy ig!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! also sorry if your name is April!! 😭
f1 masterlist
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Max
You are sitting in your apartment, the scent of Max's cologne lingering in the air. The two of you have just come back from dinner, and you're now nestled comfortably on the couch. Max is s through channels on the TV, looking relaxed in a simple T-shirt and jeans.
"Hey, Marcus, can you pass me the remote?" you say absentmindedly.
Max freezes, his hand hovering over the remote. He turns to you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What did you just call me?"
You look up at him with innocent eyes. "I called you Max."
He shakes his head slowly, his piercing blue eyes narrowing. "No, you didn't. You called me Marcus. Who the fuck is Marcus? That’s a ugly ass name."
You feign surprise. "No way, Max. Why would I call you Marcus? I don’t know anyone named Marcus."
Max leans forward, his expression a mix of amusement and irritation. "Are you fucking with me?"
You bite your lip to keep from laughing. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Marcus."
Face turning red, he crosses his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. "You definitely called me Marcus. You got a boyfriend named Marcus I don’t know about?"
You laugh, unable to keep up the act any longer. "Alright, you got me. It was a prank. I would never call you by someone else’s name baby, you know that."
Max's stern expression softens into a grin. "You and your pranks," he says, shaking his head. "Don’t do it again, you had my heart racing."
You lean in and kiss him on the cheek. "Promise, Max. You're the only one on my mind."
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Lewis
You're in the passenger seat of Lewis car, the city lights of Monaco illuminating the night. Lewis, ever the style icon, is dressed impeccably in a designer jacket and sunglasses, even though it's already dark.
"Lucas, can you turn up the music?" you ask casually.
Lewis takes his eyes off the road for a moment, a look of disbelief crossing his face. "What did you just call me?"
You glance at him with a confused expression. "I called you Lewis."
He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "No, you called me Lucas."
You maintain your innocent demeanor. "Lucas? Why would I call you Lucas? I think you're hearing things, Lewis."
He pulls over parking the car and turns to you, "I know what I heard. You said Lucas? Are you thinking about someone else while you're with me?"
You try to hold back your laughter. "Of course not, Lucas. Why would I think about anyone else when I'm with you?"
Lewis' jaw drops as he stares at you in shock. "Right there!?! Just now! You called me Lucas? Who the fuck is Lucas? And why is he on your mind?!"
You finally let out a laugh. "Alright, alright. I’m sorry baby! It was a prank."
Lewis shakes his head, sighing in relief, smiling. "You love messing with me, don't you? You almost made me shit my pants. I was getting ready to drive back home and say ‘fuck it’ to dinner."
You grin and laughing. "Not you getting ready to cancel dinner! You was gonna let me starve?!”
“Hell yeah! Coming in my car calling me another mans name!” he’s says exasperated.
“Baby, you know I would never call you by the wrong name." you say rubbing the back of his neck.
He reaches over and squeezes your thigh as he kisses you. "Just making sure. Because there's only room for one man in your heart and that’s me."
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Lando
You're at the beach, lounging on a sunbed next to Lando. The sound of waves crashing against the shore is soothing, as the sounds of people laughing fill the air, the sun shining brightly making your skin glow.
"Levi, can you pass me the sunscreen?" you ask without thinking.
Lando sits up, his relaxed expression turning serious. "What did you just call me?"
You look at him with wide eyes. "I called you Lando."
He frowns. "No, you said Levi."
You tilt your head, pretending to be confused. "I’m pretty sure I know my boyfriend's name is Lando not Levi."
“Well I'm pretty sure you don’t since you called me Levi, I heard you, unless I’m turning deaf at 24.” he says with an annoyed tone.
He takes his sunglasses off, his boyish face looking a bit hurt. "Are you sure you're not mixing me up with your side piece named Levi?"
You stifle a giggle. "Side piece?!? I’m not cheating on you, Lando. Why would I do that?"
He narrows his eyes at you. "Because you just called me another man’s name."
“Okay, but what makes you think you're not the side piece?” you say with a straight face.
He freezes staring you at jaw dropped, in shock not knowing what to say, “Wha-“
You burst out laughing, unable to keep the charade going. "I’m joking baby. It was a prank!"
Lando still stares at you trying to comprehend what just happened. Frowning he says “Why would I be the side piece?”
You start to laugh uncontrollably, “That’s what you're focused on! Seriously! I told you I was just playing with you!”
Lando's frown turns into a slight smile. "Yea but, I’m not side piece material, I’m main piece material.” he says softly.
You smile, shaking your head. “Yes Lando, you are main piece material, that's why you're my boyfriend.”
You take his hands in yours, “You being more offended being called a side piece than another man’s name is concerning.” You say in humor and slight disbelief.
He leans over kissing you on the nose. "Because we all know I’m boyfriend material. Unlike whoever this “Levi” is."
“You’re something else.” you say laughing at his antics.
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Charles
You're in the kitchen, helping him cook dinner. The aroma of fresh basil and tomatoes fills the air, making your mouth water. You take the freshly chopped onions and throw it in the pan.
"Chris, can you pass me the olive oil?" you ask casually.
Charles stops chopping vegetables and looks at you, bewildered. "What did you just call me?"
You give him an innocent look. "I called you Charles."
He shakes his head slowly, a puzzled expression on his face. "No, you said Chris."
You blink at him. "Did I? I don't think so, Chris."
He narrows his eyes, a hint of frustration in his voice. "You just called me Chris again.”
“No I didn’t, I just called you Charles.” you say seriously.
“Nope, you didn’t.” Putting down the knife, walking towards you. He says, “Who’s Chris?"
"I don’t know. I don’t know anyone named Chris.” You say trying to keep a straight face.
Charles steps closer, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Well clearly you do because you just called me his name."
“I’m telling you I didn’t call you that. You’re just hearing things.” you say starting to get nervous.
“Am I?” he says, staring at you.
You can't help but laugh nervously. "Alright, holy fuck! It was a prank! Stop being all scary!"
Charles shakes his head, chuckling. "You're lucky I knew you were just joking. Just don't let it happen again." He says as he moves closer to your wrapping his hand around your neck squeezing it softly as he says “Your mine and mine only. Yes?”
“Yes.” you say breathlessly as he kisses you briefly before pulling away, smirking as he says “You burned the onions.”
“Oh shit!” you say turning around to turn off the stove as Charles laughs.
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Oscar
You're sitting in the living room, watching a movie together. The lights are dimmed, and the atmosphere is cozy and intimate.
"Oliver, can you pass me the ice cream?" you ask, your eyes glued to the screen.
Oscar pauses the movie and looks at you, confused. "What did you just say?”
“I asked if you could pass me the ice cream? you say confused.
”No. What did you just call me?" He says turning his body towards you.
You glance at him, playing innocent. "I called you Oscar."
He shakes his head, a slight frown forming. "No, you said Oliver."
You feign surprise. "Who the fuck is Oliver?"
He leans back, crossing his arms. "That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure April, sorry I mean Y/N?
You gasp saying “Who the fuck is April?”
“I don’t know, who the fuck is Oliver?” he says as he shrugs his shoulders.
“Babe I called you Oscar so why the fuck are you calling me April?” you say trying not to laugh.
“Why the fuck did you call me Oliver, April? Why are you thinking about this man instead of paying attention to the movie?" he says.
You struggle to keep a straight face. "Stop calling me April!! And I’m not, Oscar. Why would I think about anyone else? Why are you thinking about some girl named April?"
He narrows his eyes, his face holding a scowl he says, "Because you just called me another man’s name, April."
“My names not April, Oliver.” You shaking your head while rolling your eyes. "I was just trying to annoy you, it was a prank."
Oscar's frown turns into a smile. "I know April. You really like messing with me, don't you?"
You grin and nod. "Yes Oliver, I can't help it!”
“But you know I would never actually call you by the wrong name baby." you say as you crawl into his lap straddling him.
He wraps his arms around your waist bringing you closer, kissing you. "I know baby, just making sure."
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Carlos
You're outside in your backyard, relaxing by the pool with Carlos. The sun is shining, and the sound of water gently splashing adds to the tranquil atmosphere. You lean back in your chair, enjoying the warmth, and then decide to add a bit of fun to the moment.
"Babe, could you get me a drink, please?" you ask sweetly.
Carlos gets up with a smile. "Sure thing baby!"
As he heads to the kitchen, you call out, "Thanks, Marcus!"
Carlos stops in his tracks and turns around, raising an eyebrow. "Marcus?"
You feign innocence. "What? I said Carlos."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, you definitely said Marcus. Who's this Marcus guy?"
You giggle. "What are you talking about? I said Carlos."
Carlos narrows his eyes playfully. "Alright, if that's how you want to play it."
A few moments later, he returns with your drink and hands it to you. "Here you go, my love."
"Thanks, Marcus," you say with a grin.
Carlos doesn't miss a beat. "Oh, okay." Without warning, he scoops you up in his arms.
You scream, "Carlos, put me down!"
He grins devilishly. "You said Marcus, remember?" And with that, he jumps into the pool, taking you with him. You both splash into the water, and when you come up for air, you sputter, "Carlos, what the hell?"
He laughs, brushing the wet hair from his face. "Oh, looks like you do know my name."
You roll your eyes but can't help but laugh along with him. " Of course I know your name baby."
He pulls you close, still smiling. "I know you do. I can play games too, cariño, if you want me to."
You both laugh, “No, no. You win.” you say pulling away from him. “For now." Then, with a quick motion, you splash water into his face and make a dash for the edge of the pool.
Carlos wipes his face, laughing. "Oh, that’s how you want to play cariño, you're so going to get it now!" He starts to chase you as you scramble out of the pool, both of you laughing.
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You both laugh, the playful chase turning the afternoon into a joyful, carefree moment.
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