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cherry-leclerc · 2 months

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needy ☆ cl16

genre: humor, fluff, jealous/possessive!charles, smut, established relationship

word count: 2.3k

A certain dislike bubbles deep inside of the Monegasque when you attend your first race and continue praising his teammate.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, doggy position, m!receiving, blowjob, elevator sexxxx, choking

req!...aghhh i wish men existedddd

You’re smiling wide, face flustered with genuine happiness as you beam up at the podium from afar. The lights, fireworks, music, and environment fill you with pure adrenaline, and suddenly, you get it. Why a lot of people enjoy the sport, you mean. It was an exciting thing to witness.

But from the garage, where your boyfriend is getting weighed after a tiring race, Charles glares at you and then at Carlos who he can’t quite see but can hear the applause for as they announce his name. He can see the way you clap, the way your eyes crinkle up at his teammate.

It should’ve been him.

“You were amazing, baby!” you cheer as you skip towards him, arms flying over his broad shoulders. He grimaces. I’m sweaty, he protests as he lightly nudges you away. “Oh.” You take a wary step back at his odd behavior that had never taken place before. “I- um…Carlos and Rebecca invited us out for dinner to celebrate. Do you want to go?”

He could tell you wanted to and he hates how much it bothered him. The way it tugged at his heart like a painful needle. “I’m sweaty,” he simply states again.

“You can shower first, I’m sure they won’t mind if we’re a bit late-”

“Or you can go without me.”

You frown, shoulders drooping. “But I don’t want to go without you…”

He blinks. Just as he’s able to speak again, Carlos proudly makes his way over with a shiteating grin. “Charles! Great race, man, I’ve missed driving like that.” They share a fierce hug before the Monegasque sheepishly smiles.

“Yeah, I did too.” A beat. “We’ll probably be a bit late to your dinner.”

The Spaniard waves him off. “That’s alright, as long as you make it. I want to celebrate something like this with my team. Especially since this is our last season together.”

Charles can feel a wave of annoyance towards himself for envying the 29 year old. He did enjoy the race, he was extremely happy for his friend, but it didn’t quite click why it nicked him how you wore a bright smile. He nods, a lazy arm pulling you in towards him. Your brows pinch with confusion. “We’ll be there.”

“I’m glad I was able to make it,” you ponder as you reapply with a fresh coat of lipstick. Charles dries his brown locks with a white towel as he stands close by. Me too. You hum, eyes trained on your reflection. “It didn’t seem like it.”

His stomach churns at your sad tone. “I swear I am. Why would you say that?”

A tint of red colors your cheeks as you purse your lips. “For starters, you wouldn’t even let me get close to you. You pushed me away, remember?” He winces at the reminder.

“I d-didn’t want to cover you with my gross sweat,” he tries as you shake your head.

“Like that’s ever been an issue. You’ve played soccer and kissed me. You’ve had a round of basketball and hugged me after an hour of attempting to make a hoop. Or when you played golf under the blazing sun and kept me close no matter what.” You grab your purse as you make your way towards the door. “Don’t make up some stupid excuse, Charles.”

Guilt slithers all around the green eyed boy as he watches you converse with the Scottish model. He feels like an old grump around the most colorful flower, and he’s ruining it. He was determined to make it up to you. “I’m glad you were here to witness my first podium of the season considering it’s your first time attending a race. That way you remember me as your boyfriend's best teammate,” Carlos gloats as you laugh.

“Oh, for sure.”

Jealousy pangs Charles once again as you continue. “I don’t know how you did it…it was a close one. But definitely a great race, you live up to your last name,” you salute as he winks as a thank you. Rebecca agrees besides her boyfriend. “You got me though because - no offense - I thought Charles had it in the bag.”

You’re getting back at him now. He can hear it in your voice as his eye slightly twitches. The Spaniard chuckles. I thought so too. Placing a warm hand over the Monegasque, you swiftly kiss his stubble. “But you were great nonetheless, Cha. My favorite driver without a doubt. My number one…Ooops. Four.”

“Ah, shit,” Lando hisses from down the table as he nibbles on a piece of cake.

Charles fumes. “Aren’t you the sweetest thing, amour? Thank you, thank you very much.”

You giggle. “No problem.”

Coughing awkwardly, Carlos diverts the conversation from the sudden tension as a new topic comes up. You simply jump in with ease as the Monegasque keeps to himself.

He could’ve gotten a podium if it weren’t for his front brake locking. He could’ve been the one celebrating right now with all his friends. He was simply better.

“I’m really going to miss this,” a deep voice rips him away from his thoughts. Carlos sighs. “It’s a struggle, but I will miss it when I’m gone. Especially you,” he says as he points to his teammate. “A sore loser, but you gotta love him.”

Charles scoffs. “I am not a sore loser.”

“He’s right,” you muse. “But trust me, it's incurable. For God's sake, he pouted when I beat his time on the stimulator.”

Pierre gapes. “She beat you? As in her?” Kika laughs, pulling him back by his linen shirt. “That’s actually pretty impressive.”

The Monegasque blushes. “It happened one time. It was probably broken that day.”

“Ahh,” Daniel says as he clicks his tongue. “I totally see it.”

“Would you stop it?” Charles deadpans as the table laughs at his defensive behavior. “I’m honestly happy for Carlos. I am.”

The Spaniard wiggles his dark brows in a teasing manner. “You hate me a little bit though, no?”

He squints his eyes before aiming a napkin at the brown haired driver. “In the very moment, yeah. Maybe a little.” Carlos raises his hands up before smiling. As the night grows older, the more you lean into your boyfriend's touch, eyes fluttering tiredly. “Wanna leave?”

“Not yet,” you murmur against his chest. “One more round of drinks.”

He snickers. “I think you’ve had enough. Here.” He hands you a glass of water. “Drink it all.” Rolling your eyes, you oblige before it actually sobers you up enough to call it a night.

“Congrats again, Carlos!” you chirp as your boyfriend drags you away, swinging Charles’ hand like a glass of champagne. “Here’s to more podiums!”

“More podiums, my ass,” he growls as tugs you out. “You’re such a flirt.”

“Only with you,” you hum as you sloppily kiss his lips. “You look so pretty, Cha, you know? Your eyes, your lips, your hair.” You lean in closer to his ear, whispering. “Your cock.”

“Pretty?” he retorts, trying his best to hide his hard on. You giggle. You’re also so fucking hot when you get territorial. It’s sickening, but I love it. His breath hitches.

“Oh, that was fast,” you cutely muse when his car rolls in by the valet. “Ready?”

“Y-yeah.”

As soon as you step foot inside the wide room, you jump onto him, lips clinging onto his neck, hands rushing through his hair frantically. I’m sorry for all I said. I love you, you’re my favorite driver, my number one. You’re-

“Oh,” you sigh as he kneels down in front of you, kissing your legs all the way from bottom to top, worshiping you until his head is beneath your dress, nose brushing against your panties. You shudder. He nips as you leap up in surprise. His teeth wrap around the thin material before sliding down and looking up at you like a dog.

“Go to the bed. On all fours. Your favorite number, isn’t that right?”

It’s a lame joke, but it still strikes you with shock as you carefully make your way over, following his clear instruction. And you think he’s going to fuck you, the way you were waiting for, but instead unzips his jeans and takes his boxers off, and stands in front of you. Open. “I thought we were-”

“Well you thought wrong, now open,” he grunts, hands grabbing your chin as he forces your mouth wide. Following along, you stick your tongue out eagerly. Like a dog. You should be ashamed, but can’t find the strength when he slips down your throat. You gag as he groans. “That's it, baby. Work your jaw f’me.”

Deepthroating him, you hum around his length as you take him all. He growls when your teeth graze his skin for a second, harshly pushing you back. “And you’re still being mean to me?” He tsks. “What did I do to you today for you to ignore me?”

Your brows arch. “I wasn’t ignoring you. You were ignoring me.” Fixing your dress, you climb off the bed, but not before he grabs your hand, dark eyes staring back at you. Where are you going? “Far away from you.” He fixes himself before marching after you. Just as the elevator is about to close, he manages to slip in. “I’m not talking to you,” you promise, arms crossed.

“Great.” The elevator comes to a halt. “Because this doesn’t require talking.”

Pushing you against the glass, he kisses you hungrily, greedy hands squeezing your ass as you squeal, attempting to push him off. This only makes him take a step back, rubbing his jaw. Seriously? You debate with yourself for a while before biting down on your lip and pulling him back towards you.

There’s no sound other than moans and groans as he fucks your against the elevator. The angle causes his tip to hit your g-spot at a mindblowing pace as your head rolls back with pleasure. He’s the first to break the silence as he places a hand next to your head and the other secure around your waist as he pounds into you, loopy eyes admiring the way your breasts bounce.

“I want you to know that despite my attitude, I’m happy for him, I am.” You don’t need to ask to know who he’s referring to as you hastily nod. I know, Charles. Leaning down to kiss him, you pout when he turns his head, leaving you to peck his jawline. “But you’re mine, all mine.” He sucks on your breasts that spill out in front of him as you whimper. “Repeat it back to me.”

“I’m all y-yours, you doofus,” you grin, tangled hair flying into your mouth as you squirm. “I didn’t even think I’d have to say it.” Squealing in shock, you hurry to grab the metal bar as he places you down and spins you around, leaving you mushed up against the tinted glass. “Oh shit.”

“Pretty view, no?” he quietly questions behind you, lustful eyes laser focused on the way you take him like no other. He grunts, head rolling back, messy hair following along. There’s no room to worry about the possibility that there could be a camera in the tiny space, or that help may be on the way despite the red button being pushed on purpose. And then he wraps his large hand around your throat and your breath hitches, tiny hole enveloping around him even harder. “S-so good, chérie.” He kisses you shoulder sloppily, mouth hanging a tad bit open as he tries to push back his fierce sense to come inside of you.

I think it’s stuck, a familiar voice clarifies from outside.

It is, you dimwit, another retorts as a group of mumbles follow with agreement.

“Oh shit,” Charles whispers as he rapidly pulls out of you, fixing you dress and hair to the best of his ability before focusing on his equally fucked out appearance. A soft wail escapes your lips at the sensitivity that remains in between your legs as Charles apologetically pecks your temple and the door finally slides open.

“Charles?” Pierre squeaks as soon as he spots his friend. “Holy shit, are you guys okay?”

“Completely fine!”

“It was so scary,” you add, shivering with theatrical fear to emphasize your words. “Thank God they were able to help us,” you say as you signal to the hotel staff members who stand by with a skeptical smile. “I don’t know what we would have done.”

“I have a theory,” Lando whispers to Carlos as they snicker, taking in your sweaty state. The way your zipper isn’t all the way up, showing off a bit of humid skin. The way the Mongasque keeps his hands adamantly in front of his hard on. It’d be stupid not to know what had been taking place prior seconds.

“Well thank God you guys are okay,” Pierre breathes, already making his way to hug you and the 26 year old. Kika grimaces while you two cringe at the fact that the Frenchman was getting a good look and feel of the forbidden afterglow. Patting his shoulder away awkwardly, Charles hums enthusiastically.

“It’s been quite an eventful day... Charles?”

Dark brows fly up before nodding hastily. “Yeah! We should go to sleep…Take care guys! Au revoir!”

Pierre smiles happily as he watches you two scurry away, Charles almost tripping as you grab onto his shoulder to level him up. “That’s actually really scary, I think I would cry if I were in their situation,” he admits, wide eyes blinking towards his friend group.

“Oh, honey,” Kika sighs, leaning up to pat her boyfriend's chest with empathy for his naiveness. What? Wouldn’t you?

Lando can’t help but let out a loud laugh, clapping his hands with amusement.

“Open up your eyes, Pierre. Those two totally fucked.”

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

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peachesofteal · 5 months

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Light on - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader

Morning comes with dark regret.

Light tries to fight past his curtains, luxurious slivers of sun peeking through the edges, casting sharp beams across his face. It’s what wakes him, at first, gently bringing him to consciousness, easing him into reality- before memory slaps him across the face.

Fuck. Did he dream that? Was that real?

He tries, for a barely there moment, to pretend that it was a nightmare. That he didn’t shut you out, turn you away from his door, sweet, beautiful face smiling up at him, timid offering on your lips.

“Thought we could, um, try this again?”

His stomach sours when he remembers the way your shy expression shattered, how you faltered, confused and… hurt. He hurt you. He took your trust, your precious heart, and smashed it to pieces because he was afraid. Because he couldn’t let you see.

His reflection in the bathroom mirror makes him sick.

Fucked up nose, fucked up face, fucked up, cruel, awful person.

Maybe he's more like him than he realizes.

How could he have done that to you? To you. The one person in this entire world that makes him feel warm, that makes him want something more, that gives him hope. His girl.

He knows why, of course. He didn’t want you to see him, didn’t want you to know what it was like. Wanted to shield you from it, keep you and Emmaline tucked away in the space inside his heart, where you're safe. Where you don't realize how much of a monster he is. Didn’t want you to witness the come down, the decompression, the shedding of his skin post mission. Didn’t want you to know that he’s not always the man you think he is, the one you know, the one you trust to hold your baby and take you to the hospital and eat dinner in your kitchen. He didn’t want to shatter the illusion, didn’t want to step out from behind the lie. He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet.

Because what would you have done, if you met Ghost? If you realized that your neighbor is a professional killer? A war criminal? Sure, he told you what he does for a living, but he didn’t tell you that much. And fuck. He couldn’t just let you in his flat. He hadn’t even showered, hadn’t gotten all the grease off his face. He still had blood under his fingernails, men’s dying screams echoing in his ears. How could he let that touch you? How could he let any of that, be anywhere near you?

You and Emmaline would be far better off if he stayed in the shadows. Kept an eye on you, kept you safe, but kept his distance. A good man, a better man, would spare you the pain, the heartbreak, of bringing something like him into your life.

The problem is, Simon’s never been a good man.

He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, he hangs up, rolling over in bed, burying his face in his pillow. He keeps himself tucked under his blankets, sleep desperately pulling at him, trying to drag him into the black abyss of his dreams and when the minutes tick by and you don’t call him back… he begrudgingly succumbs to the cocoon of sleep.

He calls again, later, as the sun is setting. You don’t answer, and he tells himself you’re probably busy, busy getting Emmaline and you fed, busy trying to settle her for bedtime. Busy ignoring him. He strains to listen through the walls, hoping to catch the muffled sound of your voice, or the TV, Emma’s cries or giggles, a sign of some kind. A sign that he should try again. Call you again. Knock on your door.

He hears you in the hall an hour later.

Emmaline is crying, and you’re trying to soothe her, low pitch of your “shhh, shhh, shhh” slipping under his door and down the hall to where he’s pacing in the living room. He bolts to his front door, swinging through the frame, turning towards where you’ve got her in a wrap against your chest, backpack straps looped through your arm. “Shit!” You yelp, eyes wide. Emmaline startles against you, cheeks wet with tears, and then she quiets, mouth hanging open. “Jesus. You scared me.” You’re fidgeting with your keys, fingers clenched just a little too tight around the ring.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You smile at him, but it’s all wrong, the kind of smile you might give a stranger, someone you only know in passing. His stomach flips.

“I tried calling, earlier, uh- are you two… busy?” Let me explain, sweetheart. Please. I’m so sorry.

“She’s overdue for a bottle,” You motion to Emma, who’s now gazing at him with a sweet little smile, tears evaporated. “and she’s got a tooth pushing through, so it’s been a really long day.” You sound exhausted, and look it too, shifting your weight, stretching with a bit of a wince, and he frowns. Is your back hurting you? Is it your neck? Where is the stroller?

“Do you need some help?” C’mon love. I know I hurt you, let me explain. Please. Let me help. You need me. I need you. He takes a step towards you, longing practically dragging him by force into your orbit, but your face twists, and you move backwards, away from him.

His heart cracks in his chest. No. Please.

“Ah, no. I got it, no worries.” No worries. No worries? “With the teething, she’s… I’ll try to keep her quiet. Just let me know if she’s too loud or if it’s a problem.”

“It’s not a problem.” He rushes to reassure you. “Of course it’s not, sweetheart. I… if you have some time, later… I want to talk to you, about last night, I-“

“Oh, it’s fine. Don’t even worry about it.” You wave him off, eyes tight, lip tugged between your teeth. Emmaline lets out a small cry, just the beginning of a wail, and you sigh. “I’ve gotta get her inside.” He doesn’t want to push you, doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s backing you into a corner or trying to force you to listen to him, and he doesn’t know what else to do. He feels lost. Stupid. So, so stupid for letting his girl, his… family, slip away from him like this.

“Alright… well, let me know if you need anything, yeah?” He asks gently, and you nod without looking at him, eyes bouncing from Emmaline to the floor, to the keys in your hand.

“Sure.”

#peaches writes #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

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come rest your bones next to me ; satoru gojo, suguru geto

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.

it’s beautiful.

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!”

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it.

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.”

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.

he hopes it never goes away.

#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3 #i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother #i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u #but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it #and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child #im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto x reader x gojo #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #……… thats… a lot of tags.

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sturnioz · 1 month

Text

‘DRIVERS PLEASURE’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO

pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut

word count. 2.2k

❝do you want me to help you with that?❞

content warnings. established relationship, explicit content, car head, oral (m receiving), blowjob, handjob, small mention of spitting, mention of hair pulling, possible exhibitionism,

You sigh softly as you glance at your reflection in the sun visor mirror of your boyfriends car, fingertips grazing the corner of your lips, erasing any excess lipstick that may have smeared during the ride and that your mascara hasn’t left any smudges on your eyelids.

You rushed when Matt had suddenly asked you out on a last-minute date and you were more than desperate to see him, having not been alone with him for a long period of time due to his busy schedule.

You had rapidly searched around your bedroom for the most suitable and clean clothing you could find, and hastily applied your makeup, your eagerness to finally see him overshadowed any concerns about your appearance until you you were parked outside the restaurant with just a few minutes remaining before you had to make it inside for your dinner reservation.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure I look okay,” You tell him, adjusting the strands of hair framing your face. Your shoulders slump in defeat as you continue, “I don’t feel okay.”

Matt raises his eyebrow as he asks, “Why?”

“I rushed to get ready before you picked me up, so my makeup is all messy, and my outfit looks silly, and—”

“No, it doesn’t,” Matt interrupts your rambling, a gentle smile creeping onto his face as he gazes at you from the driver's seat. “I think you look pretty. Really pretty,” You side eye him sceptically, but Matt chuckles, his teeth gently biting down on his bottom lip as he widens his smile. “No, seriously, I mean it… you look beautiful.”

Your head turns towards him and your heart swells at his compliment. The adoration and affection reflected in Matt’s eyes is enough to make you a little overwhelmed and without hesitation, you lean over the console and cup his face, pressing your lips against his.

Matt’s surprised exclamation is muffled by the kiss, caught off guard as he didn’t expect you to kiss him so suddenly, but he allows himself to melt into your touch. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, tilting his head to deepen the kiss with more love and urgency.

Every kiss you share with Matt feels like the first, sweet and tender. His lips on yours leaves you feeling dizzy as if you’re intoxicated, and you yearn for more, yet it never escalates beyond heavy make-out sessions with wandering hands that fail to explore beneath the clothes.

Surprisingly, you don’t really mind. You didn’t want to push or rush into something that might ruin what you have with Matt. The relationship is still new, having only become official a few weeks ago, so there’s no need to rush into anything… However, there are moments when you crave for him. Badly.

As always, you’re the one to break away from the kiss and an amused chuckle leaves you as Matt follows your lips, his own still puckered and waiting for you to return. Giving him one quick kiss, you suggest that it’s probably best for you both to go wait inside, unfastening your seatbelt and preparing to leave until Matt’s voice echoes throughout the vehicle.

“Wait!”

His raised tone startles you and you jump as his hand extends out, firmly grasping your wrist to prevent you from opening the car door. Your movements freeze, and you gaze at him with concern swimming in your eyes, unsure of what’s happening and why he’s reacting in such a certain way.

You notice the pink hue tinting his cheeks and the flush that spreads across his neck, chest rising and falling rapidly with each heavy breath he takes. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of what, and under different circumstances, the sight would’ve been hilarious. However, you were too worried about his sudden outburst to laugh.

Matt struggles to form a coherent sentence, and the grip his fingers have on your wrist tightens as he lowers his head to look down at his lap. Your gaze follows, and your eyes widen when you see the obvious tent in his pants.

Your hand rips free out of Matt’s grip as you slap it over your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter which makes Matt’s cheeks grow even more red.

“Wa—wait, I just—It’s like—” Matt stammers, his hands flailing in the air in a panicked manner before he hastily grabs the hem of his shirt, tugging it down to cover the bulge, avoiding direct eye contact with you. “Shut up. Stop. I have no control over that—”

“Matt, it’s okay.” You reassure him as your hand drops from your mouth, unable to hide the smile on your face. Truthfully, you’re a little flattered that a simple kiss can make Matt react like that. It boosts your ego immensely, and the thoughts that run through your mind are wild.

He continues to act embarrassed, tugging his shirt down further to hide himself but the friction of the shirt rubbing over the material of his jeans makes him tense up, eyes widening as a stifled grunt seeps past his lips.

“Matt…” You call out his name and his head turns to finally meet your eyes. You feel confident, maybe too confident as you say your next words, “Do you want me to help you?"

“Help me?” He repeats, blinking at you. “What do you—Oh. Wait. No. I swear, it’s fine. Just give me a few minutes and it’ll—oh shit.”

Matt curses, hissing through his teeth as you decide to bravely place your hand on his upper thigh, squeezing the skin beneath your fingers as you lean in closer to him, the centre console digging into the stomach. His gaze flicks between your hand and you advancing towards him, unsure on where to look until your nose is barely brushing against his own.

He swallows thickly at that look on your face, silently asking him the same question again and he struggles to find his voice, bobbing his head slowly in a short nod. He lets go of his shirt, dropping his hands to his side limply as he watches you work the button of his jeans, popping them open and pulling down the zipper before your hand dips beneath the waistband, cupping his through his boxers.

Matt exhales deeply, body relaxing into the driver's seat as he observes your actions with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip tucked between his teeth and fists clenching at his side.

You’re giddy as you free his cock from his boxers, the sheer size of them sending a thrilling buzz to your cunt and you meet his eyes with a surprised grin.

“What?” His voice is quiet as he questions, “What’s wrong?”

“You’re big, Matt.”

Matt’s tongue prods at his cheek, trying to fight off the urge to smile at your compliment as his chin tucks into his chest, unable to look you in the eyes. His cheeks grow warm with a slight pink hue, but his mouth drops open with a sharp intake of breath as you slowly wrap your fingers around him the best you can.

Your lips hover above his cock, letting a wad of spit sit at the tip and using your thumb to smear it over the slit and head of his cock, causing his hips to jerk upwards.

The sound of him whispering curses through airy gasps and grunts is enough to urge you downwards, taking his tip into your mouth, letting it lay on your tongue for an experimental taste before pushing your head further down, taking his cock into your throat and swallowing around him.

“Oh my go—fuck.” Matt suddenly whimpers loudly, pressing his fist to his mouth and biting down on his skin, nervous eyes glancing around the restaurant's parking lot to see if anyone was lingering around outside.

He was thankful to have brought you both out near nightfall, but he was even more thankful that he had decided to park a few spaces away from the building itself, tucked away beneath a tree and barely any street lights

You struggle not to smile at the effect you have on him as your bob your head, exaggeratingly moaning to send vibrations down his cock and again, his hips jerk upwards at the sensation, and a guttural sound rips from the back of your throat as he accidentally chokes you with his sudden movements.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” He repeatedly apologises to you, his hand coming down to affectionately smooth the back of your head, ringed fingers getting tangled in your hair and he tugs without realising when you hollow your cheeks around him, the burn on your scalp sending a shiver down your spine.

“Does it feel good?” You ask him once you take your mouth off of him to breathe, using your hand to continue jerking him off as you gaze up at him.

Matt struggles to keep his eyes open as he nods, untangling his fingers out of his hair to press his palm on your cheek, putting at your bottom lip and you lay a gentle kiss on the pad of his thumb.

Matt smiles giddily at that, head lolling to the side and resting against the fogged up windows, breathing unsteady as he continues watching.

It completely erased from your mind that you’re currently giving Matt head in a public parking lot until you hear a distant car horn in the background, and usually, under any different circumstance, you would have stopped everything and asked to be driven away out of pure embarrassment from possibly getting caught.

But seeing the blissful look on Matt’s face, and how strangely nice it feels to have him in your throat, tasting him on your tongue, you don’t care.

You almost wouldn’t mind if anyone walked by and caught the two of you in this position.

“I think I’m gonna cum soon,” Matt breathes out heavily before his eyes widen. “Yeah, no—shit—you’re definitely gonna make me cum.”

“That’s okay.” You coo softly, giving him the sweetest smile before you swallow around him once again, tightening your throat around his cock and he grunts, his hand resuming its position on the top of your head again.

“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart?” The pet name sends you spiralling and your cunt clenches around nothing, arousal building in the pit of your stomach.

You move your head faster, working at a pace that has his thighs shaking. His cock fucks your throat raw and you can breifly hear him calling out your name, tugging at your hair slightly to get your attention and pull you off of him, but you resist and shove your head down further, the tip of your nose touching his navel.

“Fuck… do you want me to cum in your mouth?”

You hum around him for confirmation and Matt whines under his breath, voicing ‘you’re so hot’ as his hand falls from the top of your head to your free hand that’s resting on his knee for balance.

His fingers thread through your own, intertwining them tightly, thumb caressing over your knuckles in small circles, and the second you squeeze his hand back, to let him know that you’ve got him, he cums in thick spurts down your throat with a moan.

Matt’s thighs trembling beneath you, but you take no notice, too busy making sure you’ve swallowed every drop he’s giving you, sucking him dry until he’s physically unable to give you anymore and is begging for you to release him, too sensitive to continue.

His cock falls from your mouth with a wet plop and you sit up in your seat, taking a quick glance in the sun visor mirror like you had done earlier before, and you stifle a laugh at how you’ve definitely ruined your makeup this time.

You reach for your purse and open it up, grabbing a few facial makeup wipes that you carry with you and try to clean yourself up as best as you possibly can, even though there was no use.

Matt is panting heavily beside you, body twitching as he comes down from his high and he runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to regulate his breathing before he’s tucking his flaccid cock back into his boxers.

He’s buttoning up his jeans, casting you a glance as he pulls up the zipper, watching as you finish completely wiping the smudged lipstick off of your lips and dabbing the mascara excess under your eyes.

“I think we missed our dinner reservation by the way,” You joke, a chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your phone to check the time. You did miss it. “Sorry.”

“That’s a shame,” Matt says, his voice dipping low. “I’m still hungry.”

You feel a little guilty, “We can go get takeout—”

“No. Not for that,” Matt immediately shakes his head and you turn to look at him. “I’m hungry for something else. Something better.”

“Better?” You repeat, raising your eyebrow suggestively as you lean back into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as the corner of your lips threaten to curl up into a smirk. “And what would that be?”

“You.”

#©sturnioz #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut

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deadsetobsessions · 5 months

Text

Tim Drake had a lot of free time.

In between the time little Timmy was deemed old enough to not need a nanny and his ninth birthday when he got his first film camera, Tim Drake had so much time after school to explore his big, empty house. And so he did, hours upon hours were spent exploring his house.

Mansion, Tim corrects himself. His house isn’t a house. It’s an abandoned mausoleum disguised as a mansion. He intimately knows every creak of the floorboards in the out of the way galleries, every heavy weight curtain shut closed so what little sun that makes it way through Gotham’s gloom is reflected in order to protect the artifacts stored within the walls. Tim probably knows the exact amount of fleur-de-lys on the fourth sitting room’s wall paper- by extrapolation from preexisting data and personal data collection. Basically, he laid on the floor and counted.

Tim had a lot of time. He also had a lot of artifacts to pore over, making stories as he goes and double checking the actual history of the object.

Tim thinks he’s an artifact, almost. To his parents, at least. A child, a thing, they collected at one point in their lives and put on display at the galas they deem worthy to return to Gotham for. Perhaps he’s worth even less, had his parents bothered to look at him more than the lesser art pieces in their storage-mansion. The story everyone knows about him is prerecorded by people who weren’t really there.

Regardless, Tim Drake knows every single corner of his prison mansion. He’s catalogued everything, after all, on a nice spreadsheet.

And that’s why, as he entered the fifth- and least used- guest bedroom, Tim’s attention immediately cut to the wrong bit of detail. Eyes flickering between the indent on the bed, the mussed- but not terribly dirty- state of the sheets, Tim slowly backed towards the door. His eyes fixed on the spot on the bed, he called out a soft “hello?”

He immediately cringed. He’s not an amateur, and that little “hello” was a mistake that might get him killed.

Tim trembled as the panic set in, tears pooling at his eyes. He wished Batman and Robin were here, they’d know how to-

There’s something appearing on the bed. Tim Drake stares as a glowing figure with white, wispy hair and a black hazmat suit appeared sitting cross crossed on the guest bed. His gloved hands were held out in the universal I-mean-no-harm gesture.

“Don’t- don’t panic!” The thing said, looking rather panicked itself. “I’m, uh, Phantom.”

Tim Drake’s curiosity and mystery-solving mindset slammed down on the toddler’s mind, quickly banishing the fear and panick in favor of interrogating this new, exciting thing.

“I’m Tim. Are you…” Tim frowns, wishing he had Batman’s intimidating growl. “A ghost?”

“Got it in one, kiddo. I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything! I just wanted to rest.”

Tim blinked. He decided right then and there that he likes this person. This… Phantom. If his trust was based on the fact that the loneliness was worse than a dead person, no, it wasn’t.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead..?”

——

Danny stared at the child in front of him, watching the kid- Tim- pout at something. Danny is distracted from the staples holding his ghostly guts from falling out of his non-consensual vivisection when the kid asks him if he’s a ghost.

“Got it in one, kiddo!” Oo, he should tone down the energy. Danny’s too tired right now to maintain that level when speaking to Tim. Now, gotta reassure the kid he means no harm before he reports Danny’s presence to whatever authorities around.

His parents, at best. The cops, at worst.

“I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything!” He could tell he landed in some richie rich mansion by the opulent decorations in a seemingly impersonal room alone. “I just wanted to rest.”

Ancients, that had been more honest than he’d wanted. He really was out of it.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead?”

Danny snorted.

“Yeah, but you can almost never have enough sleep, you know?”

The toddler looks unsure but nods anyways.

“Listen, would you… not tell anyone that I’m here? I’ll be out of your hair soon, promise.

Tim looks like a smart kid. There’s no way he’d fall for-

“Okay.” He fell for it. Danny blinked, stupefied. “My parents won’t be home for a while.”

“What.”

Tim shrugged. “You can stay. The housekeeper is only around a couple of days.”

“You… are you supposed to tell me that?”

Tim sent him a derisive look, clearly bolder now that Danny made no moves to hurt him.

On his cherubic but skinny face, the effect is both adorable and absolutely devastating.

“You’re hurt.” Tim fidgeted with his hands. “I can… I can get you water…?”

His core purred.

“Please. Thanks… Tim?”

The kid beamed at him and left.

Crap. New fraid member it is.

——

Danny, naive: “Surely him trusting strangers is just a one time thing, he’s so well behaved”

Tim, staring Danny in the eyes as he jumps out of the window to go stalk his vigilantes: “I’m gonna go take a walk in Crime Alley”

——

Tim gets Danny water, but it’s tap water from Gotham and is infected with both an ungodly amount of toxins (that doesn’t affect either of them bc one’s dead and the other had been chugging it since they were a baby- Gothamites get bottled water or from Wayne Foundation’s Clean Water Stations) and also like trace amounts of ectoplasm.

Danny: woah this is so healthy water!

Tim, pleased because Danny ruffled his hair: yes, I’m perfect

The rest of Gotham, if they knew: making warding sigils against these two eldritch gods

——

Basically, Danny gets attached and stays mostly because of said attachment but also Danny could see Tim’s budding world dictator tendencies and went yeah gotta curb that

#tim drake #bamf danny phantom #danny phantom #ghost king danny #baby tim drake #Tim Drake is a menace #Tim Drake’s stalker tendencies #I’m not saying he’s a criminal but his second option after nightwing was blackmail #Gotham #Gotham’s tap water #ectoplasm #found family #dc canon can suck my ass #dc x dp

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inupibaldspot · 2 months

Text

Pretty Glossy Lips

Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : College AU where Kugisaki is oddly observant.

Kugisaki is bothered… her eyes keep darting back and forth, it’s as if that ‘thing’ is begging her to look at it.

She quickly shakes her head as her fingers go back to her keyboard as she types away and has her screen divided in three in front of her if she includes her iPad, all with a word doc, an ai tool and ai paraphraser.

“Argh— I feel like I won’t finish in time.” A voice beside her complains making her turn to face the owner of the voice. Beside he is a boy who has his pink hair disheveled, his face highlighted by the light of the bulb in the study room.

“Shut up, Itadori—!” Kugisaki starts shaking Itadori in fury as poor Itadori has his hands waving around as he tries to type in some letters. She hears another sigh as her eyes squint at the other voice. “You got a problem , Fushiguro huhh?”

But her eyes focus on Fushiguro’s lips.

She is wondering if her mind is getting too stressed out but she swears she thinks his lips today look slightly pinker with more gloss if that makes sense…also was that glitter—?!

“Don’t push your anger on me.” He says, eyes not leaving his phones as he types on the screen. “We had a month long period for this assignment. If you guys keep this up, you might not graduate college.” Fushiguro adds which makes Kugisaki flatter and go back to her assignments, eyes trailing to his lips one time.

Just then they hear a knock to the study room as a figure pops their head in. “Sorry I got late. My professor kept going on and on.” You say, with a sheepish smile taking a seat beside Fushiguro.

Kugisaki inwardly smiles as she noticed how quickly Fushiguro’s head seemed to turn as soon as he hears you voice and now you sit with him smiling and continuing on about your professor. The brown shorter haired girl shakes her head when she looks over to Fushiguro who seemed to try and act nonchalantly but no one can deny the blush on his face plus the constipated look.

You were a friend met through Itadori, you guys once got paired in a semester long project and somewhere in between that and now, you guys were as inseparable as one can be, in particular Fushiguro and you. Surprisingly the dark haired stone faced boy was quick to warm up to you; probably it was due to the aura you gave exuded.

You gave out warmth with your warm smile and bright attitude, which makes you stop and take in the way your gaze reflected the warm sun from outside.

Every smile.

Every lighthearted laugh.

It always felt genuine which made Kugisaki adore you to the brim of her heart, you were just so adorable—! But it seemed she wasn’t the only one.

“You guys got only 10 minutes.” You say as you peer over the table to take a peek at their progress, and mentally cringe due to the lack of said progress. “It’s okay! you guys can get it done.” You cheered which earns another subconscious smile from Fushiguro.

“Shit— I should not have played stardew with you Itadori!” Kugisaki grumbled, tugging a piece of hair behind her ear as she types away making, every second count. “It’s all your fault.”

“Eh?” Her statement makes the pink haired boy stop typing and pointing at himself in genuine confusion. “How is it my fault when you were the one inviting me to play?”

As Kugisaki turns to took away, she sees you and Fushiguro now sitting as tad bit closer to before with your shoulders slightly leaning into Fushiguro’s. Your eyes seem to wander nervously taking peeks at her and Itadori while Fushiguro poor figits with his pretty glossy lips pulled into something which is neither a frown or a smile, one hand on the table with a finger tapping away while the other under. Maybe playing with your fingers?

Who know, Kugisaki doesn’t for certain. But she can bet that Fushiguro is currently thinking about you while you’re sitting beside him from his dumb look.

Kugisaki shakes her head and keeps her nose to herself,as she begins typing but she swears it lasted just a millisecond second but she caught it.

In that split second her eyes watches you lean forward and places a kiss on his lips, making the boy stiffen up and pink when you thought Kugisaki and Itadori weren’t looking.

When she sees you about to turn to her and Itadori’s direction, she quickly pulls her eyes back on the screen acting normal. Shit. She thinks. What was that? They’re dating? Shit, why didn’t they tell us? Shit, Fushiguro I didn’t know you had that in you. She dapped him up in her mind. They could have atleast told us though…

Kugisaki uses ever every once of her strength to keep her hands on her keyboard to type away but then there was a sudden click in her brain, which put all the pieces in place. Fushiguro’s glossy lips were from you! Your lip gloss on his lips! Now she can’t stand it any longer as she pulls her hair in realization.

“Why didn’t you guys tell us you’re dating?!” Kugisaki gets up from her seat and points accusingly at the pair infront of her. This makes you let out a embarrassed and confused sound while Fushiguro becomes red—he was caught in broad daylight, as he scrowl at her. “Shut up, Kugisaki.”

“Ahh— I knew your lips were so pink and shiny, no wonder! You have someone kissing them that shade!” With each taunt spewing out of his friend’s mouth, he blushes a deeper tone.

“What? You guys are dating?” Itadori chirps in. “Shit, Kugisaki—! The countdown for the submission started! We only got a minutes left.”

“Submit it Itadori—!” Kugisaki’s attention solely on her laptop. “An incomplete assignment is better than late assignment!”

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? Check out other here (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ) ♡

#fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x you #fushiguro fluff #fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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bahablastplz · 2 months

Text

Canvas: Hyunjin x Reader

Content: A late night with your boyfriend turns into something more as you both try something you had only talked about before; smut and fluff Warnings: p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, heavy heavy praise WC: 2500 Happy birthday Hyunjin <3

Hyunjin was painting again.

As you roll out of bed in the middle of the night, this fact is apparent. The smell of paint wafts from the living room where he has his work space set up. A large tarp on the floor, a small easel propped up and a lamp set to illuminate his latest work. Paints lay haphazardly around him, a blend of colors and shades of hues mushed across the palette. The rest of the room was dimly lit, moonlight shimmering through the curtains and shining on your boyfriend’s face. God, he was breathtaking. One paintbrush is in his mouth and the other in his hand, gliding across the canvas. The sight makes you let out a breathy laugh.

“Love?” He looks up at you now, watching your frame as you admire him from the wall. The lamp light reflects onto his dark-framed glasses when his gaze meets yours, and you smile at how the yellow and orange lights glow across his features. He smiles back. It’s a small gesture, and even though you’ve seen him smile hundreds of times the gesture warms your heart.

You cross the room in your nightgown, the cold breeze from the air-conditioning causing you to curl into yourself slightly. Hyunjin beckons to the spot on the floor beside him and you take it eagerly, body curling around him and head resting on his lap.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask him. He has the habit of sneaking away in the night, so as to not wake you, and painting until the sun starts to creep through the windows. It’s cathartic for him, a way for him to get away from his thoughts that trouble him in the night. In moments like this you love to watch him, how his brows furrow in concentration and his lips get caught between his teeth. Hyunjin was the most in his element when he had a canvas in front of him.

“Mm,” he confirms. He checks his hand to make sure no paint dirties it before he rests it on your hip, drawing soothing circles on top of your nightgown. Your head nuzzles deeper into him and you breathe in his scent, letting out a content hum.

“Did I wake you?” He asks a moment later. His hand moves effortlessly across canvas, dappling acrylic paint across a vision of flowers that was already the picture of perfection to you–but would probably take him at least a few more hours to complete. He was a perfectionist like that; he could point out every absence of color, needed highlight or small imperfection of his work that was near imperceivable to you.

“No, the bed was just cold. I wanted to see where you were,” you hum against his skin. Your words were true, of course; because you get so hot when you sleep next to your boyfriend, the house usually stays a bit chillier but you notice his absence sometimes when he leaves the bed late at night. He now wears a dark colored hoodie that swallows his features, meant for his comfort when lounging around the house like this. His pants are also meant for lounging, the gray sweatpants soft but covered in remnants of previous art projects known lovingly as his ‘painting pants.’

“Do you want me to warm you up?” You nod and crawl into his lap, nuzzling your face right into the crook of his neck. He lets out a breathy laugh underneath you, arms wrapping around your frame to bring you closer as he continues to work. After a few minutes your boyfriend leans closer to the canvas, examining a piece of his work that must have not looked right to him. This action shifts your position, however, your core now pressed right against his clothed length. You tense against him and your breath hitches slightly, and you know that he’s caught on to your arousal.

“How much longer?” You whine against him. He lets out a laugh and uses his free hand to stroke your back, long fingers moving languidly across your spine. The action is meant to soothe you but has the opposite effect, sending an electrical shock down your body and causing you to let out a small breath.

“Why, love? Are you feeling needy for me?” You nod almost embarrassingly fast. While you love watching Hyunjin paint and could for hours, you can’t help the want that settles deep in your gut that begs for his touch, his attention, and his desire to be released toward you.

“I was hoping to paint for a while more,” he confesses. You try not to let your disappointment show, but you let out a moan as the man’s hand finds your hips, pushing you harder against him. The friction that meets your core has you feeling more desperate and you buck into him and he’s smiling, and it infuriates you to know he’s intentionally trying to work you up. He has always loved seeing you pliant, needy and desperate for him, and you were unfortunately already in that state somehow. “Do you want to sit on my cock baby?” Your head reels back to look at him with wide eyes. “You can sit on my cock while I paint but you have to be good and promise not to move, okay?”

You had talked with him about cock-warming before but it was never something you had actually done. Now, it must be just past 3 a.m., and you were finally turning the hypothetical into reality–it felt unreal. You let out an affirmative sound and nod your head, and he’s maneuvering your bodies to get you set up. He repositions you so that you’re on your knees above him, slightly towering over him where he sits on the floor. He’s lifting his hips up and pushing his pants down just past his thighs, releasing his cock and pumping it one, two times. He’s hard already, and you watch him in awe as he works to pleasure himself in front of you. It’s just for a second, but enough for him to have your breath come to a stop, which is exactly what he was waiting for.

His hands find place on your waist. He’s hitching your nightgown up above your hips, leaving you bare for him. It’s no secret that sometimes you sleep without underwear on, but he smirks at you and stares in a way that leaves you feeling utterly exposed despite him having seen you like this hundreds of times. His fingers come up to your core, rubbing it and gathering your wetness to spread it around your folds. You let out a moan at the action, thankful for the contact before he’s dragging you down and placing his cock at your entrance.

He leans back on his hands and looks up at you, waiting for you to do the rest. And so you do, piercing yourself onto him and sliding down his length, inch by inch. Hyunjin was well-endowed, so to speak, so it was never an easy fit to take him but it felt pleasurable nonetheless. Finally he is fully inside you, and your breathing and each moan is completely synced with one another. A hand comes up to bring a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and the movement is so domestic and loving that it makes your heart pang in your chest.

“Beautiful,” is all he says.

He brings your nightgown back down so that it covers you up, remembering your recent complaint about being cold. Your head finds its place back on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck like it’s your home.

And, he continues painting.

You’re not sure why you’re surprised–that’s exactly what he said he was going to do. Your boyfriend has a lot of self-control and restraint that you did not, and it was especially evident when you were intimate. While you often become wrecked from the start, he would let his pleasure build up and would reel from the delayed gratification of it all.

Your knees find the ground and before you can help yourself, you put your weight on them. You’re propping yourself up, sliding up his length about halfway, before crashing back down. Your clit drags deliciously across his abdomen in the process, causing you to let out a heavy sigh of pleasure. You rock against him only one more time before strong hands find your shoulders, pushing you down hard. You try to bounce up again and find that you’re unable, his grip keeping you in place so firmly that you cannot budge despite your attempts.

“Don’t,” he scolds. His words are sharp, not laced with venom but to remind you of his earlier demands.

At this angle, his hands pushing you down causes his cock to be seated deeper inside you than before and you let out an embarrassing squeak. You feel so full, and you tell him so.

He has an idea; he grabs you and leans forward, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his torso. When he sits back down, you are now unable to give yourself the momentum needed to move your hips or rock against his length. You are fully seated on him and he is fully inside you, his arms wrapping around you and holding you flush against him as he continues his work.

It’s silent, now, with the exception of your shallow and uneven breathing. You find yourself clenching against him over and over again, reeling in the sensation of him inside you. And it’s just that–you can really feel him like this, every ridge and vein, every pulse of him inside you, and it has you feeling lightheaded.

“God, baby, you’re gushing around me,” he whispers into your hair. “Taking me so good.” His praise makes you smile and squeeze tighter around him and he groans. You feel smug to finally get him to lose his composure, but he starts spouting more praise that makes all thoughts vanish in an instant.

“So good for me, baby, you know that? Such a good pussy. You’re the love of my life, God, you were made just for me. You were made for me to love you, to hold you like this… So pretty for me. You’re all mine, meant to take my cock, yeah?” You whimper against him, the mixture of sweet nothings and sexual praise whispered to you making you feel dizzy.

It’s several more minutes before you say something, finally coming to the conclusion that you would have to be the one to initiate it further, if he would even let you.

“Please…” It’s all you can say at first.

“What, love?” He teases. He knows exactly what you want.

“Need you to move, please, Hyune… It’s too much. Need to cum,” You beg. You’re sure you sound pathetic but you can’t find it in you to care. If there’s anyone who’s not only willing but wanting to see you in your most pathetic and vulnerable states, it’s Hyunjin.

“Poor thing, does it feel that good?” His voice asks with a small lilt in it. You’re sniffling now, embarrassed about the tears starting to spill down your cheeks but so overcome in pleasure and sensitivity; you can both feel it in the ways that you clench around him unabashedly. He brings his head back to see your face, to examine your tears. He’s seen you on the verge of tears a few times while having sex from being overwhelmed by pleasure, and though it always makes his heart tighten because he’s the one that’s doing that to you, he’s the one making you feel that good, he knows it’s about time you’ve reached your limit. He wipes a stray tear away and you don’t even realize that he has dropped his paintbrush until he’s picking you up and bringing you over to the couch.

He leans back, enraptured by you, and brings you in for a sweet but messy kiss. It’s open-mouthed and hot, and it feels like you’re breathing into him and filling up his lungs. Your tongues meet and you’re covered in spit, a mixture of yours and his, and suddenly his hands are on your hips and his feet are planted strongly on the ground. He doesn’t disconnect his mouth from yours as he thrusts up into you long and hard, but any coherence is long since gone and you’re not sure you’re even kissing back anymore, instead giving loud, high-pitched moans into his mouth.

His hands move to the undersides of your thighs and he uses his strength to piston into you. In this way, you can only take what he gives but it’s more than enough, as he knows your body better than you do.

“I’m close, love,” he confesses. He lets his head fall back onto the couch but his eyes never leave yours, drinking up your scrunched up face and open-mouthed pants. It’s no surprise that you’re both close to your arrival so soon, after sitting on him for so long your pleasure feels like it’s increased tenfold.

“Me too,” you say, struggling to get the words out. You didn’t have to tell him, though. He could tell by the way you were starting to tighten around him.

“Go ahead and touch your pretty clit for me, make yourself come.” You follow his command, hand snaking down to where your bodies meet. He was right, you were absolutely soaked, and you use this wetness to shakily circle around your clit. His thrusts get harder, deeper, the way they do right before he cums. Unsurprisingly, you beat him to it, clenching all over his length and throwing your head back as you release.

He follows suit, thrusting into you a few more times before he finds his release, spilling deep inside of you. He holds you close, rutting into you now slowly and working you both through your intense orgasms. When he stills, you collapse into his arms and he holds you tight, embracing you and running a hand through your hair as he praises you. When he finally pulls you off of him you feel empty and this makes you whine. Hyunjin pulls up his sweatpants and carries you to your shared bathroom, placing you onto the sink as he runs the bath. It’s late, but you feel grimy and covered in sweat so the bath is more than welcomed.

When you look into the mirror, you can’t help but laugh. Your nightgown is covered in paint at your hips and your waist. Though he had tried to be so careful, you suppose it was the risk that came with the reward. When Hyunjin sees the target of your laughter, he joins you and apologizes sheepishly, promising to buy you another.

“It’s okay, this can just be my paint nightgown,” you joke. “I’ll wear it the next time we have sex while you’re painting.” He smiles at you affectionately, and when you finally get back to sleep it’s in his arms and your bed is warm again.

*** Masterlist Recs

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yndrgrl · 9 months

Text

yandere! kiribaku are your gym crushes, & you're their obsession

long ass fic. polyamory. quirkless! au. established! kiribaku. switch! kiribaku

warning: nsfw, voyerism, kiribaku seggsy time, stalking, spit-roasting, double penetration, cockwarming

a/n: i hope y'all like big boyz (please request scenarios) also can someone tell me how to reply to comments or something... idk how to. also writing this took forever cuz it kept deleting parts frfr

let's be mutuals :) insta: thebufferfish

---

kirishima was the first one to notice you out of the pair. you showed up at the gym an hour after him & bakugou arrived. something drew him to you, his eyes trailing you into the locker room.

you didn't wear anything "high fashion" per se, just what you felt confident in. boy, did it show. you walked back out with a certain aura around you-- sure, ready to work, & determined. whatever goal you had in mind for that training session, you were going to achieve it, kirishima could tell.

"oi! what are you looking at, shitty hair?" bakugou scowled as he arose from the bench, reracking the weight then followed his boyfriend's eyes. he saw your figure facing away from him. you were on the treadmill at walking speed. his breath hitched for a moment, but he blamed it on working out. he tried to rationalize that he hasn't even -technically- seen you, & you're probably just an extra in his movie anyways.

after your warmup, you went for a squat rack, where you would stay for a good portion of your workout. you started off with squats-- tried & true. you had big, bulky headphones on & your hair tied up out & away from your face.

bakugou & kirishima got a good look at your face through the reflection of the giant mirror that lined the walls. you loaded your weight for your warmup, & bakugou scoffed.

"what is that chick even doing?" he rolled his eyes to kirishima, turning his back on you. he swatted away any curiosity that he had for you.

he heard you rerack the weight, take off the clip, & slide off your warmup weight. he examined kirishima's usual happy expression turned into one of shock, approval, & a hint of arousal. bakugou would've been offended, jealous, cursing his boyfriend with every name under the sun due to this reaction.

"what is it now?" he groaned, turning his head back to face you. he was expecting maybe you flashed kirishima, maybe you somehow seduced him with siren power, but he wasn't expecting you, with a leather weightlifting belt strapped against your stomach, squatting way more than expected. if they were being honest, it almost looked inhuman, yet you had no indication that you were struggling.

kirishima breathed out, "you know, kats, she's actually kind of strong."

bakugou knew kirishima, of course he did. he knows all the little tendencies he does when he feels a certain way. when he's nervous, he has a smile that's stretched a little too wide; when he's angry, his normally-bright red eyes turn blood crimson-- almost black. that's why, when he saw his partner adjust his pants & bite his lip, he knew kirishima was undoubtedly attracted & turned on.

"is that all it takes to get you going?" bakugou barked at the redhead, angered, not because he was jealous, but because he was puzzled. truly puzzled. he was so content with the life that him & kirishima had, the routine they fell into. wake up together, get ready & eat breakfast together, have some morning fun, go to the gym, work, come home, have more fun, sleep. that was their life.

yet here comes you, a random stranger with the brute strength of hercules & the beauty of a goddess. you wrecked their unsaid routine.

"what are you talking about?" kirishima questioned when he tore his eyes away from you. he just watched you add more weight to your next set.

"are you that easy?"

"katsuki, you're one to talk," kirishima laughed, switching positions with his partner so he could begin his set of bench press. "i saw you look straight at her ass, & don't deny it 'cuz i watched your eyes."

"i don't know what you're talking about," katsuki growled. his boyfriend unloaded the weight, bringing the weight down to his chest then pushing it back up. even when struggling under a mass of metal, kirishima had a small smile on his face.

"yeah, you do," kirishima uttered out between his reps. "i can see your hard-on right now."

"shut up!" bakugou yelled. kirishima & bakugou's eyes darted towards you & met your semi-scared gaze in the mirror.

"katsuki," kirishima reracked his weights then sat up.

bakugou lowered his voice, saying, "listen, shitty hair, i'll admit that she got me a little bit hard, okay? but i'm not going to do anything about it, i'm loyal to you-"

"i want you to," kirishima laughed, cutting off his partner's endearing, aggressive rant.

"what?"

"i want you to do stuff to her," the redhead reiterated, "i want to do stuff to her. honestly we're both attracted to her, & i wouldn't mind sharing you if it's with someone like her."

"what if we get to know her?" kirishima suggested, sly smirk glued on his face. bakugou couldn't help but copy.

that night, after snooping through your gym bag when you went to the restroom, they found out your name was y/n l/n & your instagram username, thanks to your notifications.

over a quick dinner they made when they got home, they scrolled through your posts. they learned that you were nineteen, three years younger than them. they found what college you're studying at & what major you went into. more importantly, they found all the progress pictures, selfies, & outfit-of-the-day pictures.

whether it was posts themselves or past stories, they screenshot them all. every single one. the more they looked at you, the more they realized how good of a choice they're making by perusing you-- not that you knew that yet.

then they found the gold mine. you're a college girl trying to live it up while you're still young, that much they gathered. what they didn't expect was to see you & your friends (the important part is you though) in costume that bordered lingerie. the post's caption was, "baby rave!"

it felt sinful to see you in such a way. at the gym, you're pristine, well-mannered. in this post, however, you are a complete party girl with lights of different colors radiating, confetti in your hair, & an alcohol-induced flush on your face.

you wore a dark red bikini top that barely held your breasts. metallic chains draped around your body, all connected by a black pearl choker. your bottom matched the top, & you wore ripped-up fishnets underneath.

if bakugou & kirishima were there that night, they would've fucked all of your holes in the middle of the mosh pit.

grunts & sloppy slurps echoed off the walls of the room they shared. "ah, fuck, eijiro," bakugou groaned, his eyes shifting to the man sucking his cock to the pictures of you at a rave, letting your friends jokingly squeeze all over you. he wishes that was him & his boyfriend's hands all over you.

kirishima coughed, spit & pre-cum mixed sliding down bakugou's cock. "choke on that dick, babe," the blonde taunted. in response, kirishima shoved his head down onto his length then moaned. the vibrations sent shock waves through bakugou through the tip & into the rest of his body.

not long after, bakugou forced kirishima on his feet. he stood with him, both of their impressive sizes in his grasp, pressed against each other. he spat onto kirishima's girth, & already was kirishima jacking his hips forward for friction. "god, fuckin' do it already," demanded the redhead, biting his lip. bakugou stroked their cocks simultaneously as kirishima crashed his chapped lips against his.

soon, they were moaning into each other's mouths, eyes cracked open to see the picture of you propped now on the bedside lamp. "oh fuck, i need her so bad," bakugou admitted, & kirishima's heart leaped out of his throat. he could've won a marathon with how wide his panting smile was.

"tell me how bad you need her, kats~" kirishima said as he slipped out of his boyfriend's grasp & got behind the blonde. he reached around bakugou's waist, making him face the photo of you with your hands spreading your ass ever so slightly, only fishnets & a bikini bottom covering your most precious parts.

the bulky redhead, with his other hand, lined his tip with bakugou's hole. "i need her bouncing on my cock while she's choking on your massive fuckin' dick," bakugou responded, & he was rewarded with kirishima pushing past his entrance with his tip & him pumping faster.

"what else? that can't be the only thing," kirishima laughed. "i know how crazy you can actually be."

"'gonna ruin her so bad, she'll only need us. god, she's gonna become our cute, little house wife."

"oh yeah?" kirishima pushed his entire shaft into bakugou asshole, & they groaned together. bakugou leaned his body into the bigger man, shutting his eyes as kirishima pumped him hard, thrusting in & out of him.

"fuck yeah," said bakugou, "she's gonna -harder, bastard- she's gonna our fucktoy house wife, addicted to our cock. i'm gonna fill her up every night of the rest of her life, i swear to god."

they both looked back at your picture, your stunning body, every curve & every muscle & every stretch mark. they were obsessed, needy. "f-fuck, ei, i'm gonna cum," bakugou choked out, brows furrowed & concentrated on your photo.

"me t-too," kirishima said, thrusting harder into his boyfriend. thinking about you already felt good, so what would it feel like if you were actually here? they both wondered. great minds think alike, after all.

in kirishima's hand, bakugou's cock started to throb, jets of cum shooting out & onto your picture, all over the night stand. kirishima followed in suit; he pulled his cock out of bakugou's gaping hole & jerked himself off to you. "y-y/n," he moaned, releasing his cum all over you.

you didn't know any of this, you didn't know just how badly they wanted you, what they did to the mere thought of you. you were unaware of a lot of things, it seemed to them. you didn't know how perfect you were, always hiding your stomach by crossing your arms over it when you sat down. you didn't know how much you teased them when you swayed your hips.

& you didn't know how much you ruined their daily routine.

they found themselves less present at the well-oiled machine of a company they own; not that it mattered, they only go for a few hours every week just for check ups. they spend an ungodly amount of time at the gym, taking note what time you show up on certain days. they figured out your workout routine, what machines you like using, how often you refill your water bottle, what supplements you take.

you couldn't help but notice them as well-- not to the extent they notice you though.

they were eye-catching, everyone in the room would find themselves magnetized to their hulking selves.

bakugou was intimidating, wearing tank tops & loose fitting pump covers. he was at least six foot two, weighing in at 230 pounds of nothing but pure, raw muscle. he looked like he was born with a scowl on his face. unkept, wild ash-blonde hair, a small stubble growing in neatly.

kirishima was the opposite. he was approachable, a friendly giant. he was bigger than his counterpart, standing at a terrifying six foot six & weighing nearly 300 pounds. he was always found with a smile on his face-- happy to be there. he wore tight fitting, long sleeve shirts. small scars littered his hands & clean-kept face.

they shared one thing though, their demon red eyes, lasered in with focus & intent.

you noticed them & how ridiculously handsome they were. just from their appearances, they were just your type.

you moved into the city from a small town on a full-ride scholarship to the local university. you wanted to experience everything city life had to offer because everything was different. from the concerts to the markets to the men. no one would ever describe you as meek in most aspects of your life. in school, you were hard-working; in your career, you were ambitious! however, when it came to your love life, you were subtle.

other girls approached the two musclemen, chatting & giggling. you watched as the girls gave them their socials before leaving to finish their workout. you, on the other hand, would use a machine close to the one they were using. yup. that was it. that was your grand, big gesture of flirtation & seduction.

when you got lucky & they would look your way, you averted you eyes every time with a dark blush (that you blamed on your workout) as heat flashed through your body. you were only meant to watch from afar, you thought.

bakugou was the first to approach you. blunt as ever, too. it made kirishima want to die of embarrassment. "oi! you!" he called out, but you could barely hear his voice through your noise-canceling headphones. you pushed one side off of your ear, turning your head to see who he was talking to. it was you. "you new here?"

it's been two weeks since you started going to this particular gym, which means it's been two weeks since they've been trying to get your attention so you'd talk with them.

"oh, uh, yeah, i am," you told them as you slid off your headphones, letting them hang on your neck. the music buzzed quietly, you doubt they could hear the song. "j-just moved here." you cleared your throat. since when do i stutter, you mentally face-palmed.

"really? from where?" kirishima butted in. them standing in front of you, only a few feet away made you feel tiny.

you said the name of your town, & bakugou snorted, "i've never even heard of that place. sounds lame."

"compared to here, it is. there's nothing to do over there besides working out & hike," you said with a small smile. most people said that about your town so you never really took offense.

"how do you like it here?" kirishima asked.

you could gush about the city all day. you didn't want to bore them though. "i love it here! there's always something to do. the other day i went to my first rave, & there were more people there than people that live in my old town!"

kirishima laughed at your sudden excitement. they were both relieved that you weren't a raging bitch, that you had such a sweet, lovely personality. truly, beautiful inside & out.

in the city, it was so hard to find gems, yet, without even needing to look, they found you. that must mean that you were meant to be theirs, right?

"tch, you probably aren't that interesting, huh?" the ashen blonde spat, even though he was completely enamored by you.

it caught you by surprise. "you're one to talk, big guy. i've probably lived more life than you," you barked back, half-jokingly & half-warning.

with a staggered laugh & a glance at his amused/annoyed partner, kirishima said, "you got a bite on ya', i like that. please excuse him, he's intimidated by pretty ladies like you."

the people back in your old town always told you that city boys had no charm, that they weren't capable of actual romantic emotion, but this red-haired, toothy-grinned man is proving them all wrong. he was smooth with words, easing your mind.

"i'm eijiro, by the way," he said to you with his hand outstretched.

you secured your weights before taking his hand, to which he gently turned yours & placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles as you were introducing yourself. "i-i'm y/n."

anyone else would've been unbelievably jealous that their hunk of a boyfriend is -very clearly- flirting with another person, but bakugou honestly didn't care. in fact, he was giving eijiro a look that told him to keep going. bakugou knew that, out of the two of them, eijiro was more inviting.

you turned your attention away from eijiro. bakugou took this as a sign to introduce himself. "katsuki."

"katsuki," you repeated, holding out your hand to shake his. "got it, i'm y/n," you said in case he didn't hear you the first time.

the only ones who call him by his first name is his parents, his hunk of a boyfriend, & now, you.

eijiro & katsuki shot a look over you. "do it" eijiro could practically hear his partner demand. "so, y/n, have you been to any good restaurants?"

"there's a few i really like! i haven't seen any with my favorite food though," you said, & that made you remember that you were insanely hungry. as if on cue, your stomach grumbled in complaint. embarrassed, you tried to cough to cover up the fact you could eat a horse & then the whole barn.

eijiro shot you a smile. if he heard your stomach, he didn't say anything. instead, he offered, "what's your favorite food? i promise you that kats & i know a place."

you told them what your favorite food. they already knew though; you loved to post about it on your instagram highlights.

"no way, we were just about to head out to get some! you should come with," eijiro offered.

"i-i don't know," you said as you rubbed your arm. what if he's just being nice? what if he felt like he needed to invite you? those questions & then some circled your head.

"what don't you know, sweetheart?" eijiro questioned as he took your hand again, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. "we're not scaring you, are we?"

"n-no! that's not it!" you quickly denied. you didn't mean to give them that impression-- even though you were slightly intimidated by them. however, you were more nervous than anything. your two gym crushes are, not only, in front of you, not only talking to you, but inviting you to a restaurant with them. in your delusions, you pretended that it was a two-way date, even though it was just a friend hangout for sure.

"then what is it, baby?"

"you can just say you don't wanna go," katsuki said, rolling his eyes.

of course you wanted to go! it was a dream to have an opportunity to get closer to the two. "i do wanna go!"

"okay, then what's stopping you?" katsuki scoffed.

you admitted sheepishly, "i kinda spent a lot the other day on groceries & things from amazon."

eijiro was silent at first, then started laughing. "you're cute," he sighed as he let your hand go.

"listen, he didn't ask if you had money. he asked if you wanted to come with us, dumbass," katsuki said with a smirk. eijiro & him, before approaching you, had a long talk about how he needed to be nicer, so his lips turning upward ever so slightly was his "nicer."

"kats," eijiro warned, narrowing his eyes at his partner. katsuki gave a shrug as a response.

"i mean," you began, their attention turning towards you, "if you say it like that, i couldn't miss out on some good food." like a weight being lifted off of eijiro's chest, he let out a deep sigh of relief.

after you finish your last set, you headed to the locker room to freshen up while they waited for you. you fixed your hair, applied more deodorant just in case, & change your shirt-- also just in case.

they led you out of the gym, katsuki slightly in front of you. though his rough exterior, you saw how he was trying to be gentlemanly by making sure you were following him to the car. eijiro, once the car was unlocked, opened the passenger-side door for you. "are you sure?" you questioned while he slid off your duffel bag from off your shoulder.

he replied back, "yeah, i sit up there all the time anyways. it's tons more comfortable in the back for me."

you reluctantly sat in the front seat. the redhead threw himself into the back, placing your bag on the ground beside his.

katsuki slid into the driver's seat with his gym bag in hand. the moment eijiro sat up properly, katsuki threw his bag at his face.

laughter bubbled from you as you gasped out, "that was so mean!"

"yeah, that's why i did it," katsuki replied, getting more giggles out of you. he was in cloud 9, & so was eijiro. katsuki let himself relax to your laughter, falling for your voice. it was ten million times better than his favorite song, & if he had to choose his top band of all time or your voice, he'd never listen to the band ever again. eijiro would allow himself to get hit in the face with katsuki's duffle bag a thousand more times to see that expression on your face. smile wide, mouth agape, as you laughed for him.

"jerk," eijiro muttered, slapping the driver's shoulder.

"whatever," katsuki replied as he backed up the car, "it made the pretty girl over here laugh, so i don't really care if i was being a jerk."

you blushed at katsuki's sudden compliment. eijiro also seemed surprised. "i didn't think you had it in you, kats," eijiro praised, you thought it was because eijiro was just being a supportive friend. the other two knew that it was because of something deeper, something they've worked through in their relationship.

"hey, i got an idea," eijiro started, changing the topic, but you still couldn't get over how flirtatious the two were being. "how about we order takeout from the place? it's pretty busy around this time, so it'll be a wait until we actually get to sit down & eat. is that okay with you, y/n?"

"uh, yeah! if that's what you guys want to do, i don't mind," you said. "where would we eat though?"

"we can go back to our place?" eijiro suggested.

"yeah, i'd be okay with that as long as the two of you are okay with me coming over?"

"we are, don't worry," eijiro said, fishing his phone out of his gym bag. "i'm gonna start ordering, okay?"

while he ordered online, you began talking with katsuki. "i didn't know the two of you were roommates."

"roommates? yeah, i guess we're something like that," katsuki replied. he placed his right hand on the gear stick; he tapped his finger to the beat of the song you decided to play after they practically forced the aux cord into your hand.

"well what else would you call the two of you?"

"no, roommates describe us pretty well," katsuki lied. in his head, it wasn't technically lying. they split the chores, the bills, the rent, just like real roommates do. they grocery shop, they clean, they take turns mowing the lawn & keeping their plants green. the only difference is that they suck each other's dicks & fuck each other in the ass... roommates for sure.

katsuki glanced in the rear view mirror & made eye contact with eijiro. the shark-toothed man rolled his eyes with a knowing smile then continued to pay for your guys' food. he asked you earlier on the way out of the gym what you wanted to order to save time since he already planned in head you were going home with them.

"so how long have you guys been friends?" you asked to fill the silence.

"we've been friends since freshman year of high school," eijiro told you. he wasn't ready to reveal his relationship & how he wanted you to be a part of it yet as he didn't know your stance on polyamory.

"that's a long time! i don't have any friends from high school honestly," you recalled, your town was pretty small after all so all the people were just clones of each other, & it freaked you out.

"yeah, we're pretty good friends. i know kats here inside & out~"

by the time you arrived at the restaurant, the food was done & packaged. "i'll go get it, be right back," eijiro announced before getting out of the vehicle. katsuki had enough curtsy to park in the nearest space closest to the entrance.

"i'll come with you to get the drinks," katsuki said, unbuckling his seat belt. "just stay here & be pretty, easy enough, right?"

"oh, o-okay, i guess," you replied. the keys stayed in the ignition, air conditioner pumping cool air throughout the car. you pulled out your phone, texting your college friends about what was going on.

outside, eijiro pulled katsuki close, whispering in his ear, "be nice or i'll make you."

katsuki pried his lover's hand off of his neck with a scoff. "i am being nice. look at her, she doesn't care."

"i swear to god, katsuki, you're gonna fuckin' pay if you scare her off," eijiro threatened through gritted teeth. he brushed his fingers on katsuki's semi-hard cock through his sweatpants. eijiro took a deep breath, & katsuki stared at him with an amused expression.

by the time you looked up, they were already headed back with a plastic bag full of food & specialty drinks they wanted you to try. you smiled at the two of them, unlocking the doors when they got to the car. you didn't see the interaction between the two of them moments before. maybe if you did, you'd put two & two together.

the drive to their apartment only lasted a song & a half. you were expecting to pull into a regular, slightly warn-down apartment complex with four floors of rooms. instead, they drove into the parking lot of a glass building, a skyscraper to you-- just another tower to city folk.

"woah," you said, though you didn't mean to. "what is this?"

"it's where we live," katsuki said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"but... how? it's so fancy," you gasped.

katsuki parked the car as eijiro chirped, "you haven't even seen our apartment."

to call it an apartment was an understatement. it was a penthouse that could fit your apartment three time & still have room left. it was luxury at its finest, if you do say so yourself. you couldn't fathom how this could be someone's "regular."

the statement wall was nothing but glass, sunlight spilling into the living room. the high ceiling -along with the two men who towered over you- made you feel miniature. the decor matched the house, yet it didn't match eijiro or katsuki. it was pristine, minimalistic. when you pictured a boys' apartment, you thought it would be messy with random decor that don't match. hell, your dorm room was messier than their entire penthouse! at least, from what you could tell.

as they took off their shoes, you followed in suit. eijiro took you by the hand, saying, "allow me to give you a tour, sweetheart."

"i-if you insist," you stuttered out; you weren't used to the physical contact, even though it's happened a few times already. he showed you to the kitchen, which had a beautiful backdrop that complimented the countertop. all their kitchenware matched because why wouldn't it? even their barstools matched!

the dining space was nothing but a glass table with black chairs. the centerpiece was a black-tinted, glass pitcher with fake locks of wheat inside of it. "pretty cool, isn't it?"

"so fancy, i'm kind of nervous honestly," you half-joked, half-told-the-truth. seriously, who were these two? how could they afford this at their age? you figured they were around your age, maybe a few years older than you. you've met people who are twenty years older than you who don't have living spaces as nice as eijiro's & katsuki's.

"what? why?" asked eijiro, who sounded slightly offended. he caught that you were joking, but he was curious what made them so intimidating.

"it's just you guys are so put-together. i've never met anyone like the two of you," you told him, & it was true. you've never seen anyone so well-built in all aspects of their life.

eijiro laughed as he ran his fingertips through his spikey hair. "trust me, we had to work our asses off for this place. all the furniture & stuff came with it, so we never changed it."

he started to guide you to the living room, showing off all of their consoles that sat on the tv stand shelves. "any game you wanna play, we got," katsuki said from the kitchen, sounding proud of their collection.

"it's true. we love video games," eijiro told you with that same, charming grin that gets your face red. the way he kept flashing the smile made you think he knew how flustered it got you. "let me show you the rooms. that's probably the only place we decorated on our own."

as he led you through the hallway to the bedrooms, you took note of the framed pictures hung on the wall. it was a mixture of photos of katsuki & eijiro on their own & them two together. "you guys must be close," you stated, pointing out the obvious.

"yeah, we're really close," he said back. "believe it or not, but he's softened up over the years. katsuki used to be so much meaner back in high school."

"that's neat that you guys basically grew up together. i never really had like, a best friend," you revealed. you don't know why you were telling him this, you felt like you could though. "i'm jealous of people who can make those connections honestly."

"i lucked out. it's pretty hard to make deep connections, like you said," eijiro agreed, opening the door to guest room/office. "you make it sound like you've never had a relationship."

"i mean, technically i have," you admitted-- you didn't want to seem lame or inexperienced in front of him after all. "just not a long term one. it's hard dating in a small town where everyone already dated everyone else. you'd think that it be like, ten times easier to date in the city, but it's not!"

eijiro listened to your tangent, adoring how riled up you're getting. he didn't want you to stop, it was such an intimate moment -to him- that the two of you were sharing, just the two of you. "oh yeah? tell me more."

"my parents were right, city boys are so much more... direct. they can barely hold a conversation with me in person & over text then they flash me their... you know, thing. i mean, i get being horny & all, but i don't think i'd ever show off like that to get some. it doesn't actually work though, does it?"

"no, unsolicited nudes ever work. guys on dating sites are usually super desperate. you've already figured that out, huh?" eijiro asked, masking his anger (because you went out on dates with other guys) with fake interest. he already knows most things about you. it's not hard to get into chat logs if you know the right people.

"oh, yeah i have. i wasn't interested in this guy after one date, so i cut it off with him, but he kept texting me for two weeks straight. saying stuff like how i was a gold-digger then he'd apologize, asking for another chance."

"sounds terrible," eijiro replied as he exited the room, you following close behind. he opened the only other bedroom door, telling you briefly that it was his-- he's not a liar, he's just not telling the full truth. he sat down on the bed & offered a spot next to him so you can comfortably tell him all the things men did to you.

"maybe you're looking in the wrong places," said eijiro, his voice dropping an octave lower. his face inched closer to yours, but you didn't notice as you continued your rant.

"it is terrible! another guy took me on a date to this really nice restaurant & he brought both of his parents & his little sister! said something about how we were going to get married because it was god's plan. it was actually really scary at the time. i give up on dating."

"i don't even know where to look! i mean, i guess the gym is a good place to find guys with goals like mine; they're usually misogynists or taken though. you & katsuki are the only ones i'd actually date though, but you guys are swimming in girls-" you cut yourself off once you realized what you just said so clearly. "i mean, i know you guys aren't interested, & it's weird to have two crushes-"

"calm down, sweetheart," eijiro interrupted, & you looked up at him. you almost jumped once you saw how close he actually was. the tips of your noses nearly touched, his left hand was propped behind your back against the bed, his fingers toying with the waist of your pants. his other hand rested on your upper thigh. "i just need to know before i say anything more. do you think i can handle me?"

you nodded, shrinking away from him. could he hear how your heart pounded against your rib cage? your heartbeat rang in your ears as it muffled whatever he was saying. your voice was caught in your throat; you knew if you tried to talk, you'd just squeak.

"do you think you can handle katsuki?"

you nodded again.

"how do you feel about both of us? can you handle both of us?" his hand traveled up your body to cup your chin. all you could do was nod. you've never really thought about two men at once before until now. "use your words, y/n."

"i-i could d-date both of you," you said out of innocences. you didn't want him to know about all the dirty thoughts swimming through your head.

"ah-ah-ah~" he tsked. "i asked if you could handle us both because if you say yes, i promise you that you'll be more than just a date to us. you'll be our pretty, little girlfriend. so i'm going to ask you again; could you handle both of us?" you let your eyes wander for just a second. you saw katsuki leaning against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on his face. his hand readjusted his member, but it only brought attention to how it tented against his pants. you gulped.

"y-yes i can, i-i can h-handle both of you," you said, intrigued, curious. you could barely spit out that sentence before eijiro crashed his lips against yours. you let out a muffled squeak, & he took that as an invitation to let his tongue roam into your mouth.

a string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away from you. he turned to katsuki with a lusted expression with half-lidded eyes & a toothy grin. "you hear that, babe? she wants to be with us."

babe? you thought. babe is what you call a girlfriend... or a boyfriend. they watched as you finally realized why the two of them lived together, why the photos on the wall were them doing more-than-friend poses, why there wasn't another room for katsuki. "th-the two of you are, um, a-a thing?"

"took ya' long enough," katsuki taunted, sauntering towards the two of you. he grabbed eijiro by the throat, pulling him into a rough, passionate kiss. he threw his red-headed partner off of him as fast as he kissed him. he placed his hand behind your head, colliding your lips together.

once the two of you disconnected from each other, you tried to defend yourself. "i-i'm sorry! i r-really didn't know y-you two were dating!"

"yeah, we know," eijiro laughed, his hand roaming back down to your leg. "it doesn't matter though. you're worth sharing, you know that, sweetheart? you're so utterly beautiful that we couldn't help but fall for you. can you blame us?"

"you're just our type. motivated, real. you're just so fuckin' sexy," katsuki confessed. he sat down on the other side of you. he dragged you into another rough kiss, & eijiro latched his lips onto your neck. both of their hands began to touch you all over. eijiro's hand found itsway in between your legs, & you grinded against his thick fingers. katsuki's was under your shirt, under your bra, squeezing your flesh.

eijiro whispered in your ear as you made out with katsuki, "you want this, don't you? you really want us."

you moaned into katsuki's mouth as a "yes." your panties were stained with your slick at this point. your pussy throbbed in need, how much you needed them inside you. eijiro nipped at your neck again, marking you in hickeys & love bites. you threw your nervousness to the side as leaned against their arms. both of your hands started rubbing against their bulges. you pulled away katsuki, gently shoving him away. "y-you guys a-actually want me as a, you know, girlfriend?"

"we do, pretty girl. we want to be the only ones to love you, to need you. we're going to be the only ones you ever crave," eijiro purred into you ear as katsuki threw off his shirt. "tell me everything you're worried about so i can ease your mind~"

"a-are you sure you want me?" you uttered with a reddened face. this was nothing like you've ever experienced before.

katsuki butted in, "we fuckin' need you, idiot. how clear do i need to be." he grasped you by the throat, making it harder for you to breath. "i need you."

"i need you, too, sweetheart," eijiro whispered against your neck, which was littered with red marks. you didn't even realize that he stripped down to nothing but his grey boxers. out of his waistband poked his leaking tip, oozing precum for you. "say what you want from us~"

"i-i need you too! i need both of you!" you squeaked out, though you were nervous for what the future might hold, you wanted to experience this, them, to the fullest.

"good answer," growled katsuki, slipping off his sweatpants. "now strip. you can't be the only one hiding yourself."

you did as you were told in an instant. you threw off your shirt, &, with the help of eijiro, you took off your pants. as you stripped, eijiro pulled katsuki in for a victory, sloppy kiss. their tongues fought for dominance. you couldn't help but get more aroused as you watched the two & their passion.

to return the favor, you start peppering kisses on eijiro's neck. his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to his mass by grabbing the meat of your ass. you butterfly kisses turned into desperate bites to mark him. you sucked on his most sensitive spot; he moaned into katsuki's mouth, his eyes fluttering open just to roll in the back of his head. katsuki invaded his mouth with his tongue, making eijiro choke on their mixed spit & his thick muscle.

katsuki, though his eyes were shut, pulled his boxers down & stroked his length. every up-stroke caused more precum to bead out of his tip. it dripped down his shaft, being used as lube while he played with himself. katsuki was an impatient man, though. his own hand can't keep him satisfied for long. the hand that was tugging at his dick shot into your hair. he grasped a fist full of your locks, & he forced your face against his cock. all while he made eijiro's mind numb with nothing but his tongue.

you opened your mouth. one moment you took a deep breath, the next you were choking on katsuki's heavy dick. your eyes watered as he forced himself down your throat. you felt your throat bulge, you felt yourself gag, & there was nothing you could do but choke & cry.

the ashen blonde finally pulled away from eijiro, his other hand on the other side of your head while he thrusted in & out of your mouth. "kats, baby, don't be too rough with her~" eijiro told him, but he knew katsuki wouldn't listen. in fact, he knew he would do the opposite, & that's just what he wanted.

in retaliation, katsuki thrusted deeper down your throat. your hands pressed against his hips to try & stop & catch your breath. instead, he let go of your hair & grasped both your wrists & yanked them behind himself as they straightened. you were forced to take all 9 inches down your throat. drool dripped down your chin.

eijiro unclipped your bra from behind, & he sat you on his lap. his cock stood squished between your thighs. he bucked his hips forward, & your panties began to shape to your pussy lips. the cloth rubbed against your clit, a moan bubbled from your throat, but it was muffled thanks to katsuki's prick thrusting in & out of you mouth. "you said you can take us, prove it," hissed katsuki, glaring down at you while he fucked your pretty, little mouth.

eijiro slipped off you panties, strands of your wetness snapping away the further he pulled them down. katsuki finally shoved your face off his spit-coated dick. eijiro say you against the headboard so you were sitting. he was on his hands & knees in front of you.

katsuki was behind eijiro, a loud spank jolted the redhead forward. with your spit & katsuki's precum as lube, he thrusted into eijiro's asspussy. you watched as eijiro's eyes widened & his mouth hung open. "a-ah, fuck, kats," he moaned out as he abused his hole. eijiro locked gazes with you, then gave you that same, charming smile. through the slapping thrusts that filled the room, he asked, "does this get you excited, hm? you like watching us?"

you were speechless, so turned on beyond belief. all you could do was nod.

"you're so c-cute, y-y/n," he whimpered, his fingers finding your pussy. you spread your legs wider, & your juices gushed out. he inserted two fingers, it was already thicker than you've ever handled. he pressed his mouth to your tit, flicking your nipple with his tongue. you squealed as you stared into katsuki's eyes. his narrowed eyes stayed trained on you while his cock was buried in his boyfriend's ass.

you cheeks were still tear stained, your eyes red from pleasure. eijiro inserted a third finger. a hand, your hand, shot up to cover your screams of pleasure. katsuki pulled out of eijiro. he went to their shared bed stand & used a clean towel to wipe his dick.

eijiro, with no effort, carried you on to his lap as he fell to his hip so he was sitting down. he brought your knees to you ears. katsuki sat in front of you on a chair that was beside their full-length mirror. you could see everything; you could see eijiro's cocky expression, how wet your pussy was, how excited katsuki stroked his cock. "ready to prove you can handle me, sweetheart?"

"y-yes, eijiro!" you shouted, mind clouded with lust. "please fuck my pussy!"

following your command, he thrusted his entire girth into your weeping hole. you screamed in pain & pleasure, more juices leaking onto his lap. "y-you're so fuckin' big," you moaned out. he hasn't even thrusted yet, & you already saw stars. after a moment, he moved his hips. your tits bounced with ever thrust.

in the mirror, you saw how your stomach bulged when eijiro was balls deep inside you & how it would disappear when he pulled out, only to reappear when he slammed himself inside you. his thrusts were slow, but not gentle-- unlike katsuki's. "eijiro," katsuki said, getting bored of his hand. "my turn."

eijiro rolled his eyes, but he released your legs & lifted you off of him. "bend over, sweetheart. he loves your ass," eijiro told you, & you listened. katsuki stood up as you bent down in front of him, using your hands to spread your ass & pussy lips apart.

"god, you're too fuckin' short," katsuki growled. all of a sudden, your feet were off the ground as you were still bent over. eijiro grabbed onto your flailing hands. as a thank you, you shoved his slick-covered dick down your throat. katsuki wasted no time & fucked your pussy while you were airborne. his hands carried you by your hips. he used you like you were toy, pounding your cervix with his angry tip. eijiro didn't even have to move with how much katsuki manhandled you.

you were trying to scream as katsuki picked up the pace, but all that came out was spit & gags. "you're gonna break her," mused eijiro, feeling your arms go limp. you accepted that they were in complete control, & that there was nothing you could do about it.

katsuki didn't respond. instead, he groaned between thrusts, "take. this. slut. you're. such. a. fuckin'. tease." his deep, long strokes turned shallow & spastic. shots of hot, white cum coated every inch of your pussy. it swelled in your womb; you felt katsuki's cock twitch as your pussy milked every drip. you came with him, your juices squirting onto the ground, rolling down your leg.

with a few more thrusts, eijiro flooded your throat with his cum. his salty, bitter jets dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. katsuki set you down & pulled out, & eijiro followed. their cum leaked out of your holes onto the floor, & you collapsed on the floor. eijiro held you up by your arms.

"we're not done with you," he snickered as he carried you onto the bed. katsuki, who was already laying on the bed, had you lay on top of him. he held your legs open while his tip ghosted over your asshole. eijiro was in between your legs, straddling katsuki's. he readied himself at your entrance. he bent down to kiss katsuki, then you.

he & katsuki simultaneously shoved themselves into your throbbing holes. you let out a scream. you convulsed, legs shaking while you came all over them. through your release, they picked up the pace. when one was out of you, the other was buried inside you. because of your orgasm, you were more sensitive than usual. "i-it's too m-mu-much!" you cried while you came again.

"aw~ is my baby getting over stimulated?" eijiro cooed, yet his pace was still as harsh as ever. having both of them inside you made you feel so full. you could feel how much more length katsuki had, but eijiro had more girth.

"that's a shame," katsuki snickered. his hand found it's way in between your legs from behind. using his middle finger, he started rub your clit.

"s-stop! i-i'm go-go-"

"let it all out," was the last thing you heard before everything went white. all you felt was pleasure, they pumped in & out of you.

"m-more, more, more," you mindlessly moaned with every thrust. they gave you more, just to see your face every time you came. you don't know how many times they came inside you, it was all just a blur.

you loved how full they made you. your throat was scratchy because of their cocks, because of how much you screamed your name. you were covered in hand prints, hickeys, love bites, & their cum.

you don't know when you switched positions, but now the three of you were on your sides. katsuki was buried deep inside your pussy once again, releasing his seed deep inside of you. eijiro coated your ass in cum before inserting himself back inside your asshole.

they finally stopped moving. they were still buried in your tight, sore holes. you were sandwiched between them, connected to them. "go to sleep, good girl," katsuki praised, kissing your forehead. eijiro kissed your shoulder, then the two of them shared a kiss. your eyelids immediately shut. that's when you learned that you loved feeling full when you slept.

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