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gorejo · 4 months

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▸ manager in public, creampies in private - gojo satoru (hockey player/fwb!)

synopsis: His jinx — fucking the manager behind his coach’s back before every game — has become a rather risky ritual that he’s secretly developed over the years. With you, a regular pattern of his life, Satoru proposes a deal before his final game — the last time he’ll confess, “you wanna fuck me or do wanna date me?”

contents: wc: 15.2k(i am so sorry y'all.... i have no words for this), unedited. fem/afab!reader, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as "girlfriend," pet names: baby, pretty, (there are so many), satoru calls himself daddy as a joke, locker room sex, fwb!, explicit language, p -> v penetration, creampies, lots of fucking. suguru moved to another uni. cunnilingus, squirting, fingering, teasing, mating press, doggy, gojo can carry the reader because he’s strong like that. little bit of Satoru’s pov..

The stadium is cold the moment you walk in. It’s enough to make your cheeks mildly sting and send shivers down your back, leaving the tip of your nose to feel frozen. From the crisp smell of the rink that’s been brushed out just moments prior, to the vibrant conversations of adults and the cheers from children anticipating the next game, everything tugged for your attention.

At the apex of winter sports, today will mark the champions for the national collegiate tournament for Division I Hockey.

For the normal attendee or avid fan of the sport, being there should be exciting.

But it couldn’t be far more inapplicable for you. A nervous pit coiled inside your gut — a dichotomous force of friction that made your heart thump in anticipation, but your stomach churn in anxiety.

Your mind felt like a fuzz. Guess, it didn't help that your ears also felt plugged, with every sound muffling inside that annoyingly distorted your rational thought — or whatever was left of it.

Stumbling onto the bleachers with your cheeks feeling hot despite the chill that surpassed your skin, your legs felt wobbly while walking over to your designated seat as the beloved team manager; like a broken record, your mind replayed a moment you had not less than an hour prior.

“Control him from doing anything irrational off the courts. That’s your only job today.” the head coach warned before making his way out of the locker room, his thick calloused hand placed on your shoulder, his firm grip a forewarning to not disappoint him.

“Whatever he chooses to do on it, he can go crazy all he wants as long as he brings home the trophy. I don’t care,” Yaga Sensei muttered, lowly chuckling as he hitched up his glasses, “you’re good at your job, make the last one count,” he firmly stated before closing the door behind you.

Of course, that was your job and in no way were you going to fuck things up. Every game was the same: regulate your star player, do damage control for his unhinged actions, and babysit him – the prodigy for the University of Tokyo, from doing anything negative that the press could get their hands on.

Or in simpler terms: control your fuck buddy and do whatever it takes for him to not be so unfiltered — keyword: whatever.

You recalled the week prior, cringing at the aftermath of his actions, with you sowing the repercussions of damaging your almost perfect reputable reputation — a total disaster of an interview, the distress to your migraines you had every game day thereafter from both him and Yaga-sensei.

Granted, conducting an interview post-game wasn’t fun for anyone especially when it was painfully knowing that the reporters were only interested in trying to leach out any information to make a viral post of the handsome center.

His articles sold, and any gossip obtained was always a hit.

His last article went viral — a hot topic of gossip in all outlets of social media, trending not only in Japan but in other countries as the hot man that kicked a reporter, Gojo Satoru, University of Tokyo’s center, and the most infamous, Gojo’s girlfriend. It was of a photo of Satoru midshot, kicking a reporter with his long legs easily reaching to their face with a cheeky smile while his hands were haughtily in his pants with a blurred figure hiding behind his back, nimble fingers grabbing hold of Satoru’s clothes.

Surely, pretty privilege very much exists when more than half of the comments of netizens were:

omg look at his legs! He’s so pretty! That reporter deserved it.

damn, wish I looked that good kicking someone.

He makes me question my sexuality. What a beautiful man.

Definition of looks like a cinnamon roll, but would kill you.

Don’t worry y’all! That’s me behind him! I’m the girlfriend 😘

SATORU HAS A GIRLFRIEND? I’M SICKKKKKKK

Is it weird to find this hot? I don't condone violence but if it’s Satoru…

“So Gojo-san, what do you foresee as your next plan to defeat your rival player next week? Can we expect some friendly competition?” The reporter asked, intently waiting to type up any information Satoru had to give.

Sludging over the microphone, his voice vacant of any enthusiasm, but instead endowed in annoyance, “If he can keep up, then yea. It’s been over a year since we’ve been on the same court, I don’t keep up with his updates but I’m sure he’s been training on his own. He’s good at what he does.” Satoru tiredly sighed, brushing his bangs over his forehead, while lightly clutching onto the mic stand with his other hand, “Next question.”

And of course, the rather infamous question he gets asked every interview.

“Are you currently dating anyone? I’m sure you have loads of people wanting to date you.” Upon hearing the rather obnoxious giggle of the reporter, Satoru’s jaws clenched with irritation. “Any special plans for the New Year with a certain special someone, specifically maybe the one you were pictured with?”

Getting questions about his private life wasn’t out of the norm and was a regular occurrence. Usually, he’ll flirt with the idea and throw a little bait to the reporters, but particularly on this day, it rubbed Satoru the wrong way.

“What a stupid question, don’t you get tired of asking who I’m fucking?” Satoru numbly responded with life drained from his eyes despite the rather harsh clench of his jaws, “Well, if you’re so dying to know, I’m currently getting rejected on the daily by a rather oblivious person.”

“Any hints as to who —”

“Why?" he scoffed with a brow raised, unfazed, "so you can go harass her for information? Next question.”

“Hello, Gojo-San could you explain about the rumors that are going around about your fallout with Kyoto’s new center?” Another reporter quickly rode off the previous questions.

“What rumors?” Satoru furrowed his brows, clicking his tongue against his teeth, briefly glancing at you off to the side. A fair warning that he was getting uncomfortable.

Talking about his ex-best friend was still a sore spot for Satoru, a breakup without proper closure.

It happened without a notice, a fallout that occurred in the middle of the season during Satoru’s sophomore year, and for a year he’s been silent until he’s made his return with the rival school.

Closing his eyes to calm himself down, fisting his hand as he clenched his teeth, Satoru annoyingly answered back, “We just aren’t on the same team anymore, nothing crazy about that. It’s normal in sports.”

“Well, people are wondering if it’s true that he betrayed you to give the game plays away to his current team.” The man responded, his ignorance seemed bliss, but the malice undertone with the slight tilt of his upper lip told otherwise.

“Betrayed?” Satoru scoffed, the air in the conference room immediately felt cold, irked from the reporter’s nonchalance in picking at his ego, “the only thing getting betrayed is you when your wife sucks my co —”

On instinct, you rushed over to cover his mouth — fucking idiot — and quickly stated through the mic with a routined rueful expression you’ve made one too many times — on behalf of this dumbass.

“I’m sorry, but we’ll conclude this interview from here on! I thank you all for coming.”

While leaving, you quickly glanced at Yaga-sensei’s disappointed expression, his jaws clenched as he watched you both hurriedly make your way to the locker room with Satoru trailing behind with your grip over his wrist.

You were one hundred percent going to get an earful from Sensei.

Gojo dumb fucking Satoru always making your life a complete hell; you were determined to chew his ear off.

“Just wait till we get into the lockers, Satoru” you stated through gritted teeth, your grip on his wrists getting firmer with each step.

“Yea? Ooo I like it when you’re rough with me,” he grinned, the utter audacity of him to take you as a joke, “what are you gonna do to me in the locker rooms?” he gasped, his voice innocent — it’s laughable, really — despite his breath close to your ears with his firm chest right behind you, taunting you to continue with your harmless threats.

It’s cute and makes his cock twitch and quickly pool with blood whenever you’re being dominant — at least when you try to.

Opening the door, you snapped at him while taking a step in, “You’re fucking annoying —”

But things always seemed to take a turn to his advantage — always.

The milliseconds leading to the locker rooms were silent — silence breaking the moment you stepped foot into it with Satoru’s lips rammed to yours, his hands hungry for greater access to your body.

You’re completely caught off guard when his lips come crashing onto yours. The slight grunt of his voice mixed with a hint of a whine when he pushed you against the lockers, your hands naturally landing on his firm chest, easily melting into his grip — a sinful vice he’d been swaying over your head like a pendulum for the past years every time you both snuck around to fuck.

“I fucking tried,” he groaned into the kiss while he rapidly unclothed you. The annoyance that he’d felt a couple of minutes prior all dissipated out and funneled to you. It was apparent in the sheer urgency of his hands ripping off your clothes that his patience was running thin.

“Ngh, S-Satoru!” your chest felt heavy, your mind feeling fuzzy when you met his carnal gaze, “we need to talk —” you’re cut short when his lips latch onto your neck, his hot breath lacing up your skin as he pulled your arms upward and caged your wrists with one hand, while the other traveled down your stomach, straight to your heated core.

“Talk about what? How we fuck?” he moaned at the pleasurable feeling of your pussy being wrapped with his favorite cotton panties — the one he jokingly gifted for being his fuck buddy for a year — where soon he’ll be able to play with your cum coated folds while he fucked you against the mirror walls.

“Oh god,” you huffed in the split moment he pulled away to catch his breath when his fingers started stroking up and down your folds, the tips of his middle and ring finger playing with your tight entrance, “Toru, w-we gotta talk, Yaga-sensei —”

Scoffing out a chuckle, he let go of your lips, his teeth pulling against your lower flesh with his voice deep. He peered down at you with his orbs strictly dilated and dark, “Aren’t you cheeky? Trying to get Sensei involved.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, the throbbing pain of your skin feeling sensitive when his calloused finger presses against it, “but you need me to explain to him how we always fuck behind his back?”

His hand traveled down your throat, his long fingers organically wrapping around your neck, a pleasing accessory around your neck, “I’d like that, too, it’s thrilling isn't it?” he taunted, his breath brushing against your heated cheeks, “but I don't think Sensei will particularly like what I say.”

“Y-your teammates ahh! —” You barely could let out a whine when his lips came crashing again, gasping when you felt the suffocated tension of your bra unclasping, exposing your breasts to the damp, cold air, the buttons of your shirt falling to the floor, “t-they’ll hear!” you tried whispering.

“They aren’t coming,” He growled, “ I locked the door,” his tantalizing voice contrasted with the sharp pain of his teeth biting into your shoulder, a dainty string of spit hung from his lips as he continued to paint your skin with his marks, felt all together euphoric.

“But they're more than welcome to listen, we'll give them the hottest free porn.”

You can feel his hardened bulge being pressed against your hips, it was torturous to not cup your hands over his hefty cock. And he knew. He could sense it, feel in the way you pulled back into the kiss, the wanton sounds of your needy breaths pleasantly luring him to want more of you.

“I need you,” he groaned while releasing your wrists and leading them to his member, having your hands hold his throbbing flesh, now painfully pooled with blood, while he aggressively shoved down his athletic shorts, freeing his very erect cock to spring out.

It was a sight to see — his cock freely nodding with pre cum leaking out of the slit, his head flaring a bright red while his veins bulged down his length. You can feel your mouth salivating at the sight of tasting his pebbled release sitting so prettily on his head.

It’s embarrassing how you were so weak to his touch, how desperately you wanted a taste of his release, to ultimately end up being completely stuffed with both his cock and his cum filling you up to the brim that it just had to leak out of your tight hole.

And it doesn’t help how your mind becomes a blank slate the moment his fingers stroke perfect circles around your hardened clit, the sounds of his reciprocated desires to devour you echoed so licentiously through your ears.

And accustomed to, your insides perfectly carved with the shape of his length, your inner walls throbbed, clenched the moment his fingers — one, two, three — slowly stretched out your needy pussy.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” his voice was teasing with a hint of impatience, “good girl," he praised when he feels you innately opening up for him. "show me how much you can suck me in, I wanna feel every inch of you,” Satoru coaxed, “trained this pussy so well, yea?”

Obediently nodding, your arms immediately latch around his neck, pulling him closer to your heated body. And with that, something short circuits in his brain the moment he sees you vulnerably so ready for him.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Satoru purred, the playful glint of his tone was the opposite of the sheer force he had when he quickly propped up your legs under his arms, pushing you further into the locker room as he rammed his cock inside you, your back arching at the sudden penetration — a dichotomy of pleasure and pain as three fingers surely cannot suffice and prepare you for the length and girth of his cock no matter how many times he’s fucked you.

“Hold tight,” he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips traveling down to your ears, tauntingly whispering, “I gotta swoon over my manager with a good fuck.”

Aggressively thrusting upward as the tip of his head searched for your sweet spot, your body folded from his strength. It doesn't take him long to find it — gummy and deep — especially when you're trembling and writhing in his grip. "because she just loves my cock, doesn't she?"

“T—toru,” you moaned out, the sweet mating call of his name ringing pleasurable to his ears.

“Who’s my good girl?” cooing as he placed a kiss on your nose, gently smiling despite his cock bullying past your wet, puffy folds, the sharp slapping of his skin meeting your thighs harshly echoing in the empty locker room.

And he swears he saw stars when he hears you.

— “Me.”

Currently shaking off the memory you had a week prior, you had one job: stop that from happening.

Well, that being another disastrous interview session — sex just so happens to come with it… always.

It’s not like you didn’t enjoy his company. It was rather quite the opposite — you craved his touch and longingly wanted to be by his side despite your words stating otherwise.

In short, you’ve been in denial. A secret you’ve upheld since the realization that he’s crept into your heart and took much more space in it than you would like to admit.

Falling in love with the university’s hot shot wasn’t something you’ve planned to do within your academic agenda. Being prompt with your studies, attending clubs, and enjoying time with friends while studying, with the occasional partying, maybe getting a boyfriend here and there, while accruing a job and work experience was part of the plan.

Not, him.

More specifically, loving Gojo Satoru, the bane of your existence, the pretty boy with an even devilishly handsome cock, that’s won your heart despite being your fuck buddy, was not part of the plan.

It should be a universal law: to never fall in love with your friend with benefit. And if there was a fine for being defiant of such a law, you would be the one prosecuted and trialed for such a wicked crime.

And to no surprise, even today, you were no saint.

Moments before —

“You know?” panting with his arms wrapped around your waists, thrusting upwards while he met your pace as you bounced on his cock.

With sweat dripping down his temple, he sucked onto your perked nipples, groaning when he feels you further tightening around his length — which was already snugly wrapped around him, “we should seriously date,” he frankly stated.

“Shut up,” you groaned, combing through his hair, adjusting your position to move your hips in rhythmic waves, the fire of your thighs making it difficult to withstand this position.

“Why not?” he groaned while pulling you down, cradling the back of your head with one hand while the other motioned your continual movements, his firm touch gratifying and making you feel safe despite the vulnerability of fucking in a public space.

“I—I don’t ahh ‘Toru that’s too deep! —” moaning from the hitch of his hips, forcing himself to go even deeper, the tip of his cock teasingly poking at your sweet spot as his girth stretched you out — each motion helping him to bottom out.

Your eyes are brimmed with tears as you hold his hair, pulling against his strands while the other digs into his shoulders, marking up his body — it was so easy for him to make a mess of you in such a short time, and he loved it; absolutely craved for it.

“You let guys that aren’t your boyfriend,” chuckling while he pushed your body down, feeling your juices run down his inner thighs, satisfied at how nicely his cock was soaking in your soft walls, “fuck” thrust “you” thrust “like” thrust “this?”

Despite the rather light tone of his voice, jealousy raged inside him. Because there should be no other answer than —

“No — “ your grasping at his back, using any part of his body to find leverage to mitigate the fullness you were feeling inside your tummy — the red scratches of his back and shoulders remnants of your relationship with him.

“Good,” he praised, gripping your ass with a sly smile teased at the corner of his lips, eventually blossoming into a brazen grin when he intentionally stopped his thrusts just to hear you whine out for him again, “and it should stay that way,” he confidently professed.

Dating Gojo Satoru. That would be nice.

Commitment issues? Sure, guess you can say you had that.

Insecurities? Most definitely so when your so-called partner was The Gojo Satoru — the university's hottest athlete currently in the process of being scouted to play in the professional league.

It felt all too surreal, everything inside of you was filled with him — literally and figuratively. From the way his lightly trimmed, now wet with your cum, hair tickled your clit to the way his cock filled every inch of you in one second only to be languid — slow and easy — pulled out and the next, rammed into you like a pistol releasing its bullet.

He usually took his time before games to fuck you, to enjoy and absorb your godly pussy power — he liked to always add while balls deep inside you with your thighs plastered to your chest, his weight pushing against your body, with the silliest smile despite the rather not so silly act he was doing with you.

A jinx, he liked to argue. A just happened chance of a one-night stand, now leading to years of fucking multiple times a week, under his solid impression that without you, there was no success.

Win after fucking. And a loss without it.

What can you say? Dick was good, but being in his arms felt even better.

It’s a sin. But at this point, did you have any leisure to contemplate if that’s even an option for you to not partake in anymore?

For someone that sleeps with drool coming out of his mouth, to the obnoxious thirst pics he would send only to you with an even more atrocious emoji ‘😜’ with a little ‘heh’ at the end, he sure gave you butterflies in your stomach; his mere presence made you feel good.

Crying and fervently pleading, with broken moans while every crevice of his cock continually carved your insides with his template, “Right there! — fuck ‘Toru, I—Imma cum please!” and he’ll reply with the most greedy moan as he pumped his seeds into your tight hole.

Satoru liked taking his time, but he also lavished under the thrill of a quick fuck. Desperately clinging onto each other, fucked into an absolute mess while he quickly rearranged your guts — that was his favorite.

“Can’t talk anymore?” he smiles. At the same time, he painfully fucks you at a slow pace, “Thought you were going to put me in my place?” cock twitching inside you when he notices how swollen your lips have become and the little squirm you release when you feel him growing within you, “it’s a shame, I like it when you curse at me,” he chuckles.

“Shut up,” you tiredly croaked, “you talk too much.”

“Tired?” he breathed out, looking up with his lips slightly bruised from the feverish kiss you had with him just moments before he chose to open his mouth — the type with tongue with spit drooling down the sides, unafraid to use to teeth to bite and tug.

“Mhm,” you quietly nodded, pulling yourself closer to his body.

“Thought you’d get used to me by now,” he peppered your shoulders with gentle kisses, “you know? by how much I’ve fucked you,” his touch now soft — almost fragile in the way he held you.

“You wanna try getting impaled by this,” clenching on his shaft for emphasis while you relished in his comfort, “and then tell me if you can get used to it too?”

“Relax,” he coached, chuckling as the padding of his fingers gently massaged your hips and eased out at your muscles, “I hear ya, just lean on me a bit.”

The warmth of his skin felt nice. The touch of his hand pressing against your body felt like electricity pulsing through your body while the circuits of your neurons flashingly fired to cause the heat of your core to spark in flames when he pressed tender kisses against your shoulders — one too gentle and comforting for a fuck buddy to be doing.

“You know,” he hummed, “dating me won’t be all too bad.”

“Sure,” you thoughtlessly answered back, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck, taking a whiff of his natural scent.

“You like me,” he placed a kiss on your temple, “and I think we’re pretty compatible,” he continued to kiss areas of your face, spending time to adorn every inch, “Sex is good, and I’m hot, so I don’t see why you won’t date me?”

“Who said I liked you?” your useless pride spoke before you registered his confession.

“Rude, who’s the one that won’t let me go in the mornings?” scowling as he lightly flicked your head. “and you mumble when you sleep, you know?” he smirked, the tilt of his lips teasing, his crystal blue eyes half hidden from his lids as he briefly looked down at your swollen lips, “it’s cute, but I would rather have you confess to me when you’re not half asleep.”

“You freak,” pouting as you tried hiding your face, embarrassed that you unknowingly outed yourself yet still chose to proudly reject his confessions.

“How about this,” looking up with eyes sparkling with anticipation, “if I make the last point, then you go on one date with me.”

“Is there an option to decline?”

“No,” offended you would say such words, you could practically see every aspect of his demeanor — hair, face, eyes — all simultaneous sulk in unison.

“Then what if you don’t make the last shot?”

“You won’t need to worry about that,” he cheekily smiled, cupping your face to place a soft kiss on your nose before reaching your lips. You can feel his cock starting to harden and twitch, evident from the small hitches of his hips to burrow himself slowly into you.

Leading you into a kiss, pushing you upward to give a little space for him to squeeze his cock inside you, the patience within him to wait for you to slowly sink onto his length again dissipates the moment he hears you tease.

With your mouth gaping open, and eyes tightly shut while your nails dug into his chest, barely managing to garner the strength to go for another round, you always talked so big. “You’re prideful to think one date can win me over.”

“I mean I already have,” shrugging as he leaned back on his elbows, scanning down to see where you’re both connected. it's arousing when he sees your pubic bone perfectly nestled on top of his, “You’re the one that’s sitting on my cock, no?”

“your mouth is the problem, Satoru,” rolling your eyes while you pushed him away, the heat of your cheeks burning up just as the core of your stomach flared up and coiled inside you.

Pulling you back, tilting your chin to meet his wanting eyes, “Hey hey, look at me,” he softly breathed, “I’ll be good to you,” he whispers, “I don’t go fucking around other girls, it’s just been you. I promise.”

“ ‘Toru —” you feel him slightly adjust his hips and in tandem, his cock moves deeper inside.

“Shh… just trust me,” shoving the rest of his shaft fully inside you, clenching his jaws and immediately wrapping his toned arms around your waist. From the sudden suffocating tightness surrounding his size combined with the pleasurable sensation of you writhing in his arms, he knew today was going to be a good game — his career best, at the least.

"I'll prove it to you. I'll win."

"what if —"

And through gritted teeth, while he steadies himself inside you, with each breath he emphasized, the gushing of your wet pussy coating his cock, and the desperate whimpers of your moans sounding so organic and delicate in his ears as he prepared you for another climax,

“Shh... you should know that best, princess. I always finish the job.”

—

Squirming in your seat, heart racing as you watched Satoru belatedly enter the rink, shaking out his white hair before putting on his helmet — droplets of sweat peeking through from his prior rendezvous, the slight bliss on his cheeks blooming with the puff of smoke huffed from his mouth.

Swiftly skating to his teammates to start on warmups, donning a blue and white jersey with white lettering with the number 6, there was a divide of a deep chant of his name coupled with the shrieking enthusiasm of his fangirls whenever he effortlessly made a practice shot. Whenever he slightly even glanced over to the audience, there was a roar of adoration.

“Keep it all in for me, yea?” the source of your migraine chuckled as he held your trembling body. His hands naturally moved to lightly massage your sore hips, the huffs of his solid chest inviting you to breathe and wind down.

In response you reached up to pinch his nipples, groaning from exhaustion, "pervert..."

“it’s my last game, so be nice to me.”

Fucking you till the last minute he could spare, Satoru decided to be cheeky and shoot his cum so deeply inside you. Huffing curses close to your ears as his arms pulled you further down on his cock, nearly piercing you with his length, his member pulsing with every splurt of his seeds pushed into you.

In conclusion, you’re now sitting in your seat, not daring to move for fear that it will spill. He was usually good at cleaning you up, taking his sweet time to kiss your cheeks and brush his bruised lips against your skin as he steadied his breath. But maybe it was from the nervous thrill he had of meeting his once friend, or the pent-up frustration of this past season that’s gotten to him, but one thing for sure was that Satoru came a lot — your wet panties currently pooled and soaked in his cum being proof of it.

“What took you so long, was looking all over for you?” Someone chirped behind you.

Flustered from hearing his voice, you quickly turned around, flinching when you felt a lump of fluid squeeze out of your pussy.

Cheekily smiling as he pulled up his skates while apologetically smiling, “I need my strings fixed… wondering if you had any extra?”

“Haibara-chan…” you forced out a chuckle, trying to shake away the sudden surprise, lightly shaking your head while you took his skates, “I’m starting to wonder…” slowly untying his laces, the cold stadium making it a bit difficult for your fingers to grasp onto the material, “if you’re doing something fishy with these?”

“... That's Gojo-san,” Haibara mumbled under his breath, sitting down on the bench, the clothes of his uniform oddly too big for his growing physique, “It just somehow ends up getting worn out all the time,” the younger man sulked, “I blame Yaga-Sensei for running us so hard during practice.”

“Mhm,” you hummed while searching through the team bag to find a new pair of white laces, “I’m teasing, Haibara-chan,” opening up the fresh pack to string his skates, “just promise me, you won’t be like him.”

“Him?” Haibara curiously asked, cocking his head to the side, his blunt bangs moving with the angle of his head.

Yes, Him — the one who’s currently in a headlock from Yaga-Sensei for completely blowing off the pre-game interviews.

“Ah, guess you’re referring to Gojo-san,” Haibara looked into the field, and took a glance at you, “but you like him, no?”

“Huh?” you felt a sudden pang in your stomach when hearing those words.

“Sorry! I meant like friends!” He raised his hands to rectify the tension from your question, cheeks blushing in embarrassment. “You’re close to him, right? We've noticed you both spend a lot of time together,” he hummed.

“Ah, yeah… I guess,” you softly answered, barely audible.

“He’s handsome and friendly, awfully a good athlete, and is smart too?” Haibara was practically bouncing on his seat while bragging about his beloved senpai, “There’s practically nothing the man can’t do!”

“Sure… but he’s the most insufferable human I’ve ever met in my life,” you grumbled, slouching in your seat to hide your face from possibly showing any emotion while talking about him.

“Really? Wow, I’m jealous,” he whispered, yet his voice chirped in adoration, “maybe he just really likes you, you know… like how close friends do that to each other! ”

Close friends.

Guess the dynamic of the relationship was of close friends but… not with a good conscience — close friends with benefits.

Despite the nature of your relationship with him, he wasn’t what you imagined. Indeed, you both didn’t start with the most cordial dynamic. You hated him and despised his guts when he “accidentally” stepped on your white shoes while he rushed out of the lockers.

Normally you wouldn’t mind. Accidents happen and you weren’t particularly fussy about those things to care. But when the contender that stepped on your shoes had size twelve feet, a literal giant compared to yours, of course, you’ll get livid — especially when the dirt of his soles made your shoe look gray from one step alone; furthermore, when he didn’t dare to say a simple sorry.

You recall grunting, mumbling curses at the stupidly tall asshole, with an even stupid smirk on his face while cleaning your shoes with a toothbrush during the middle of the night. You slept with the intent to kill him the next morning and make his life a living hell when you’re introduced as the team’s manager.

But guess what, Satoru would always have the upper hand. Before you can even introduce yourself, he’s stiffly walking towards you with a hand awkwardly scratching the back of his head while pushing something in your direction.

“Here,” he stares off to the side as he hands you a shopping bag, “I wasn’t sure what size you wore if it doesn’t fit, you can exchange it.”

“What?” you eyed him, unsure why he was acting so weird.

“Sorry, we got off on the wrong foot,” Satoru lamely threw out a pun, hoping the tension would ease out with a small laugh, instead he was met with your unfazed expression.

“tough crowd,” he softly murmured, sighing before leaving the room, “well, the receipt's in the bag if you don’t like it.”

Suspiciously eyeing the bag, you took out the box and opened it. Inside was a pair of shoes that were similar to the ones you wore yesterday before he ruined them, with a little note inside and a rather cute drawing of himself.

‘Hope we can get along. Welcome to the team.’

You felt acid slowly creep its way up your throat, gurgling in your stomach, making it painfully difficult to succumb anymore to this conversation. A stamp of reality that Gojo Satoru may possibly, after this game, become nothing more than a fever dream.

It’s silly, really. And it was even more ridiculous how you pulsed in your seat, longingly wanting that he would win — not for his own success, but for yours.

“Sometimes I wish he would be —”

“Yu and Kento, get your asses over!” Despite being from across the rink, Yaga-sensei’s voice boomed as if he was right next to you, breathing down your ear.

“I think Sensei is calling for you guys,” you interjected, kindly smiling with your eyes as you passed on his skates.

“Oh shit!” His eyes rounded, face paling and body antsy in his seat, “Ahh thank you for stringing these for me.” Bowing multiple times in gratitude as he reached over his skates, “Nanami! We gotta go!”

“Tell Sensei I’m not here.” You could hear his faint voice coming from the corner, his thick jacket covering his whole body with only his laced skates peeping from the bottom.

“I’ll give you five seconds, ” Yaga-Sensei threatened, “or you’re both running laps around the field till you drop tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir!” Haibara immediately stood up, quickly dragging his fellow blonded friend along with him — for someone less enthusiastic about his games and practices, Nanami was always fully dressed for the game.

“Ahh Gojo-san! Look this way!”

“GAHHH! Gojo-senpai is coming here! My phone! I need a picture!”

The shriek of his fans' screams painfully rang in your ears.

The chant of his name gets louder, the shrill becoming overbearing when you notice him skating towards your side of the stadium.

“Don’t you dare come here,” you mouthed, your eyes shooting daggers at the smirk on his face.

You could tell — no, you could feel every inch of your body being observed by the audience, daggers being sent in your direction.

Did he just fucking wink at me?

It was infuriating just how normal he was on the court while you writhed in your seat, having a mental shock whenever you felt a hot gush of viscous fluid drip onto your panties.

Satoru makes a crisp stop in front of you, taking off his helmet and shaking his hair. It was comical the way his fans fell to their knees, girls practically foaming at the mouth and guys mentally noting how to up their rizz game like the athlete.

Opening up the side door, he leans against the railing with his elbows resting on the surface, “you good?” he arrogantly asked. Though his words sounded caring, the slight mischievous twinkle in his eyes told otherwise.

“What do you think, Satoru?” You hissed through your teeth despite the friendly smile you gave him.

“Good girl,” he whispered out, just enough for you to hear, “ wouldn’t want you to waste any of it.”

“Gojo Satoru, I swear —”

The stereo briefly shrieks before announcing, “Ladies and Gentleman! Here come the visitors onto the rink! Give them your loudest cheers!”

Immediately you can see his jaw clenching, and the once vibrant color of his cerulean eyes becoming a shade darker as he turned around to face the opposing team. his gaze specifically lands on the team captain — Geto Suguru, Kyoto Spartan’s center.

“Are you going to be okay?” softly placing your hand on his forearm, worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself and act on his emotions.

“Yea,” he turned around half-heartedly chuckling as he looked down at your hand comforting him, only to look up with a smug look on his face, “you worried about your soon-to-be boyfriend?”

“I’m being serious, Satoru,” you lightly gripped his arm, the look of your eyes solidified his one of many reasons why he fell for you in the first place.

You were kind. well, kind enough to accept all his bullshit.

“I know, and I am, too.” He calmly reassured with his gloved hand placed over yours, “It’s gonna be a good game, and I gonna make you my girlfriend, so don't fall too hard, okay?” Satoru playfully winked, briefly squeezing your hand before leaving you to join his team, “I’ll be fine, worry about me after the game because I’m going to need it.”

Today would mark the champions for the Mens Division I finals: the Tokyo Trailblazers vs. the Kyoto Spartans.

The final terminus of once childhood best friends, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, now stood on opposite sides to be the final victor. Star players of both universities who played together till two years ago now stand as rivals at the collegiate championships.

“Eyes on the puck at all times,” Yaga-Sensei forewarned, “You’ve practiced with Suguru, and knowing his playstyle should be second nature, by now.” taking a glance at Satoru in his zone, eyes fiercely determined yet his composure was calm, “he’s not in our team, so play aggressive. Don’t ever fall behind Satoru, keep up at his pace and pass when you see the moment.”

“Yes sir,” the team harmoniously responded.

“Yu and Kento, remember to be careful, be vigilant and sharp, especially you, Nanami…” Yaga-Sensei cautioned, the lines of his furrowed brows behind his sunglasses deeply cut into his forehead, “No one else knows your position better than Suguru.”

Sophomore year, summer —

Jinx. noun. An evil spell; a person or thing supposed to bring bad luck.

It all started during your second year of university.

Just like how everything just happens, so does your relationship with Gojo Satoru. It started naturally — or you would like to convince yourself.

You were the team’s manager by title, and Satoru’s freelancing PR manager in private.

“Why the fuck do you always have to make my life miserable!” You hissed at Satoru uncaringly stuffing his clothes from his locker into his bag, “Sensei’s gonna kill me tomorrow,” you groaned, leaning against the lockers and sliding down to the cement floor.

“I think that’s a you problem,” he hummed, taking a glance down at you before he continued to pack his bags, “I told you, I wasn’t going to do that interview, especially after that shitty game.”

“You're doing this on purpose huh?” you numbly asked, the throbbing pain of your head making you feel dizzy, “you’re just a prick that can’t accept a loss.”

“Not exactly,” he nonchalantly responded while closing his locker, clicking his tongue in annoyance, “I just didn’t want to answer the same damn questions I get all the time, that’s all,” he stroked his hair back to expose his forehead before crouching down, leaning on his elbows, manspreading to your level while sitting on the bench, “it’s nothing personal, princess,” he winked.

His face was dangerously close to yours, almost as if he was taunting for something more than just a petty banter — especially in the way he titled his face, making it so easy to just —

“I wanna strangle you sometimes, you know?” you huffed out, glaring at him gloating down at you with the most irritating grin to exist.

Maybe it was the anger that blinded your senses but strangely he looked so fucking handsome, especially in his gray sweats that — you scanned him from top to bottom, and you can almost see the definition of his crotch through the lining. he was big.

You can almost bet the pink of his lips was so soft to touch, and plush to suck — what the fuck were you thinking.

Smirking when he caught your gaze on his lips for a second too long, he drew even closer. reaching down to grab your wrists to grip around the collar of his shirt, licking his lips while he challenged, “It’s your lucky day, Princess. Try me.”

Starting is always the hardest, the rest is easy.

you wanted to kiss him, badly. clenching onto his shirt with a million thoughts spiraling through your head, mentally cursing him with every possible word you knew. Everything soon became quiet the second your eyes zoomed in on him licking his lips — it was absolutely perfect — glossy with a perfect shade of pink that seduced you into agony.

So without thinking, your lips go crashing onto his. The harsh breathing through your nose sounds impatient and gruff. Kissing him, with teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, Satoru immediately reciprocated by pulling you up to his firm lap.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you,” he panted in between kisses while his hand sneakingly ventured under your clothes to unclasp your bra and while the other pushed its way into your pants, harshly groping onto your soft ass.

Despite the tease in his voice, the quick speed of his hands curiously touching every inch of your body, groping and clawing, showed otherwise but leisure.

“you started it,” groaning as you threw your head back, allowing his lips to peck kisses on your skin and for his tongue to trace up to your chin.

“You’re so honest when you’re needy,” he chuckles, “practically fucking me with your eyes.” Satoru always had a way with his words. He always irritatingly managed to get under your skin, as if he had an encyclopedia written on how to annoy you, he was practically an expert at it by now.

Normally you would scoff at his ego, and throw in curses just for some flavor. But you fell silent, pussy suddenly clenching on the air when you took a peek at Satoru, easily pulling off his shirt with one hand. His warm body was draped in a perfect muscle tone while he molded your breasts to his palm, his mouth sucking on your nipple, tongue tenderly swirling around your areola.

“ngh shut up!” you rasped, “you’re so full of yourself.”

“Hmm,” he sounded pretty humming in response. Using his lips as a decoy to distract where his fingers were trekking towards, he pulled your panties off to the side to slip his slender fingers to touch your pussy — throbbing, warm, and laughably wet.

“let’s see,” groaning when he feels the warmth of your core, and your viscous juice coat his fingers. He swears that’s enough for him to cum in his pants but with all the willpower he had, he didn't — he couldn't until he's at least fucked you a couple rounds and has gotten a taste of your pussy — he lowly chuckled, “where you’re weak, princess.”

you gasped out a quiet, “fuck mhm, right there ‘Toru — j-just like that — please,” while tugging onto his hair, the hiss through his teeth sounding so melodic to your ears.

With your fingers harshly entangled in his hair, you tried to register how this all happened. Your clothes were one by one thrown onto the cold floor, with Satoru now shirtless as he littered your bosom with tender kisses, holding you behind your curved waist while you pressed your chest further into his mouth, to feel the gratification of his warm tongue sucking on your nipple.

As his fingers stroked up and down your folds, the lewd noises of your erection squelched loudly while his mildly calloused fingers rendered pleasurable friction to your clit — a new, profound sensation you’ve never felt before, especially not with your fingers or even your most reliable toys.

And it felt good — so fucking good.

“you’re so soft,” he pulled out a groan deep in his throat, “hold onto me,” he ordered, his tongue trailing up your chest while he switched positions to have you lie on the bench.

Quickly pulling out his hand from touching your cunt, to strip you from your pants and throw them off to the side, he smirks when he hears a subtle whine subconsciously release.

“No — ’Toru please —”

That's all he needs to hear. Satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs and meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he can see it through your damp panties. He almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. call you out on your ego, but the ache that shoots down to his cock, painfully throbbing in his briefs, banging to be freed, reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself — probably worse and much more needy, desperately wanting, than you can imagine.

“I got you,” he huffed, pressing a tender kiss on your knees before spreading out your legs to settle in between them, his eyes soaking up every inch of your pussy to have it practically memorized, “I just wanna see you a bit.”

Pulling up your panties and seeing your puffy folds perfectly enveloping the fabric made his cock twitch, forcing his hips to push his hardened bulge against your needy core while a tantalizing, static pulse ripped through his body.

The thick padding of his finger pushes against your flesh. And if there was a pageant for the prettiest cunt, Satoru was goddamn sure you would win. especially with how your pussy softly recoiled every time he poked your wet flesh, simultaneously eliciting an even prettier, desperate moan.

“god you’re fucking wet,” Satoru purred as he played with just how thick your juices strung onto his fingers, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he delightfully praised under a solemn breath.

“Satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most.

So what better way is there than to play his own game — to tease and have him be the one yearning, begging at his feet.

“Yea?” gaining a bit of your conscience to lean your weight on your elbows, instead of needly lying on the bench, expecting Satoru to do something — anything, fast, “you’ve seen other pussies? Thought you were a virgin,” you teased while looking down at Satoru, pushing his bangs away from his eyes — his white hair a mess, cheeks heated and eyes dark and dilated.

but, it’s his game. no one knows the rules better than he does.

So instead of your expected reaction, Satoru chuckles, and takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, blowing air while he watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing. your hole pulsates in desire as arousal drips and leaves you into a burning mess.

It’s perfect—you’re perfect, everything about you is what he’s dreamed of — no, it’s better, far better than what he's fucked his fist to all this time.

“Cute, you think so highly of me,” he snorted, unfazed by your mockery, eyes still focused on your pussy, “but you can see for yourself —” Satoru fastly pulled you down, causing you to yelp in shock at how strong he was. his face was now dangerously close to your leaking core, fingers delicately spreading out your folds, to uncurtain your pulsing hole and clit, contently smiling in adoration.

“—if I’m a virgin or not.”

“do you even know where the cli— oh my god,” you sobbed, the heaves of your chest becoming greater the moment you feel Satoru suck on your hardened bud, the plush of your thighs pushing against his head, curving your back as you pulled onto his hair, breathless from how he, too, was desperately eating you out.

it’s jaw dropping hot when his veins bulge and Adam’s apple bob while he gulps down thick saliva mixed with your sweet cum down his dry throat, his palm presses down your stomach to keep you pinned from squirming away.

he hears you and feels that you want him to. so he works, he works till his forearms burn and his biceps beautifully flex every time he fucks his finger into you, completely stretching you out, expertly adding more of his fingers to see your tight rim around his fingers clench in needy desire.

It doesn’t take him long to make you cum. Perfectly in tandem with the pressure of his mouth sucking your clit, to the rhythm of his finger inching deep within to find your sweet spots, guess, it’s not a surprise it takes him less than two minutes to locate it and another minute for you to be gushing. Quivering in his reign, the pleasure overwhelming as you came in his mouth— it’s almost painful how euphoric it felt.

Sucking and lapping every last bit of you while steadily pulsing his fingers in and out as you slowly came down from your climax, it wouldn’t be Gojo Satoru if he didn’t get the last word.

Letting go of your abused pussy with a soft kiss to your clit, his lips down to his chin were drenched, glistening, and dripping with your cum.

“You were saying?” he grinned.

Two hours thereafter, that day, Gojo Satoru performed a career-high of scoring seven goals.

Day of finals, thirty seconds till the game starts —

“Nanami,” throwing his arm around his Kohai, "I always knew you would be most fitting for this position,” a gentle voice welcomed himself.

“Geto-san,” Nanami's voice was emotionless, “you’re more than welcome to come and take it back,” the junior sarcastically jibed.

“Me? Don’t know if Satoru —”

“Get away from him, Suguru,” Tokyo’s team captain cut the rival off, “the game’s about to start, Nanami.”

Suguru shrugs while Nanami swiftly strides to his position as right-wing, carefully watching the scene behind Gojo’s back.

“Satoru!” The raven-haired now standing in front of Tokyo’s center amicably called out, eyes forming a crescent behind the thick black and white helmet, “long time no see.”

Satoru was straight to the point, desperate, “why’d you leave…?”

“No hello? My… Satoru,” the other chuckled while he comfortably situated his stick, next to the puck while both teams waited for the starting bell to ring, “where have your manners gone.”

“are those rumors true?” Satoru asked while lowering his stance, preparing himself to get the first puck to start the game.

“The rumors?” Suguru questioned, a slight twitch of his lips giving away his faux innocence, “Oh —” scoffing while reciprocating Satoru’s actions, “Ahh, the one about me being a traitor?”

“Suguru, I know you. Tell me the tru —”

A loud buzz echoes in the stadium, Satoru’s words falling blank under the blaring cheers of the fans.

“Taking the lead —” the announcer reported live through the blaring amplifier.

“Guess, we’ll both have to see how much you know me, Satoru,” Suguru swiftly stated in the milliseconds of passing Satoru, speedily making his way for the opponent’s goal.

“— ladies and gentleman, has the Tokyo Trailblazers finally found their match? The Kyoto Spartans will take the lead with player Geto Suguru setting the pace!”

The second period, five minutes till the buzzer for intermission —

Tokyo (3): Kyoto (3)

Grunting as he pushed his way through the defense, despite the chaos of the stadium, he could hear the familiar crisp sound of skates closely behind him, “I heard you’re finally sleeping with her,” Suguru smirked, now skating parallel to Satoru.

“Shut the fuck up,” Satoru grunted, making every effort to keep pushing for the offense, expertly navigating through the rink while juggling the puck past the opposing team, quickly passing the biscuit to Nanami, “it’s none of your damn business,” Satoru hissed out.

“You're scared that she might not like you? ” Suguru breathed behind his ear, “when that’s all you’ve been painfully doing till now?”

Wrong, Suguru couldn’t be more far from it.

Because since the beginning, for him, noncontingent of your response to him, it’s always been you.

And outside being the gifted athlete who’s endowed with greatness, with you, Satoru had two personas.

the one that desperately fucked you.

Crashing into the lockers, the impact of your back being further pushed onto the cold medal sent shivers down your body with every desperate thrust of his cock into you. It was awfully dangerous to moan out of his name, let alone to even breathe when his teammates were just outside the door.

“Shh, be a good girl,” he grunts while slowly fucking his cock out of you, only to ram it back in with even greater force, while his hand simultaneously covers your mouth, “don’t want people to hear you getting fucked, do we?”

Muffling your moans with his palm, his cock relentlessly pistols in without any leisure to be accommodating to your aching core. His breathing becomes more hitched as his thrusts become more languid to press deeper — his length reaching as far in as it can go — it would be an understatement if you weren’t scared that he could practically rip you in half in this position.

You grab him. and your nails dig deeply into his back, marking his skin with angry scratches of crimson red. maybe he was a masochist, but the pain of your nails coloring his back was nothing compared to the pleasurable satisfaction he got when your gummy walls suffocated his cock.

Kicking out his teammates, only to fuck behind their backs as they cluelessly started on their warmups before a game was routine.

He’s memorized every inch of your body, studied where it makes you writhe, tremble, and immediately latch onto him for your dear life while he helps you reach your high.

And right now, he knew. He can feel it in the way you’re clenching down on him that you were close. Not that he had any idle leisure of his own, but just enough to pump his cock feverishly into you, bullying past your abused hole as he lavished in the melodic symphony of his balls slapping against your cunt.

He has you folded against the wall, his arms holding you up and hitched under your thighs while he mercilessly fucked you. The burning in his muscles and the strain he felt in his body was nothing comparable to the heaven he was experiencing with your powerless stance under him while his hips snapped forward, his cock dominating your insides with his hand covered in your drool.

“—Toru please” you tried yelling, only for your voice to fall faint each time he rutted inside you, his cock completely disappearing in your body only to magically reappear to stretch you out again and burrow its length deeply within.

“angel,” he taunted, his breath fanning against your heated face, causing your eyes to swell up in tears when your eyes linked with his, briefly opening up his hand to allow you to breathe, “you gonna be quiet?”

You softly nodded, your insides clenching to stop the weird pressure that was building up inside, “it feels weird here, Toru — ahh it’s too much!” you whimpered, touching your tummy while your body ricocheted from his force.

“Yea? Then cum for me princess, I know you’re close,” he growls into your ear, his hot breath making it even more difficult to breathe, “you’re such a good girl taking my cock so well,” he praised, groaning when he immediately felt you throbbing around him in response.

The moment you see stars and your mind fall blank is when thick ropes of cum shoot inside you. you can almost feel the individual splurge of his hot seeds coating your walls, with every desperate thrust he made to completely milk out his cock, his tip throbbing while he grunted with pleasure.

“I fucking love —” he rasped out, face nuzzled into the cave of your neck. it was difficult to mesh out his last word from his harsh panting to catch his breath as he felt the lumps of his cum squeeze past his member, still inside you, splattering onto the floor with a warm trail of liquid gushing down his thighs.

“good luck today,” you whispered.

Luck? he didn't need.

But you? he absolutely, detrimentally did.

Or, the latter.

The one that, still, fucked you — because he loved you, like a lover.

With the days that surpassed as being his friend — with benefit — the more he’s taken a place in your life. It started with freely coming over after practice — fucking, despite not having a game the day after. Your bathrooms would naturally have another towel hung, and an extra toothbrush would stand next to each other.

Groceries were always Satoru’s duty, while you stocked up on the self-care necessities. Satoru particularly loved getting a facial with you with all the high-end masks and oils, cuddling under the blanket while you both watched cringy romcoms.

But it was undeniably his personal favorite when he could give you a facial with his cum splattered onto your face — it’s beautiful seeing you covered with his seeds. Or when his face is drenched in your sweet juice, despite his lungs desperate for air he immediately pushes you further down to sit on his face when he catches you trying to move away.

It’s become a ritual. you've become his religion.

He comes at exactly 8:47 P.M. And you wait for him.

The key to your door opens at the exact time.

He grins when you walk up to greet him.

“Waited for me?” he softly cooed, placing his index finger under your chin, his lips onto yours while sucking gently before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting you both, but quickly snapping when he brushes his thumb across your cheeks.

If the universe orbited around you, he was your centripetal force.

“So pretty,” he praised while looking into your eyes, breathless as if he could be absorbed into it.

“I have food —”

"Later,” he abruptly cuts you off, pulling you close to his body, ”but, I think —” humming with his lips barely brushing against your cheeks, his hand squishing them together as he confesses.

“— I'm gonna fuck you so hard,” his voice was unusually sweet for saying something so crude, “that you won't even be able to see out of those pretty little things."

You softly gasped, flustered and unsure of how to respond to such a comment. Instead, you roll your eyes as your hands find the back of his head to pull him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.

His hands roam around your body, particularly groping your ass before his fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts — his favorite ones that always managed to get him bricked up.

"No panties, huh?" He states with amusement, "Aren’t you a bad kitty acting all coy,” he chuckles.

"Shut up," you retort, your cheeks feeling hot under the pressure.

“You don’t want it?” he rebuttals, taking a step back as if there was even a choice.

It’s infuriating how much power he had over you, enticing you in his grip as you mindlessly frolicked in his palm. And it doesn’t help that he looks… well… he looks gorgeous, dangerously handsome — especially with his hair mildly wet, and his warm body fragrant with cologne and body wash.

“I said,” wrapping your arms around him, further pulling him by the neck — so close that you can feel the tent that’s bulging under his sweats and the desperation that overflows in his visage while he angles his lips to perfectly match yours, “fuck me.”

“That’s more like it,” he murmurs before kissing you — it’s feverish and wanton, the type that makes you weak in your knees and your core to burn up in flames.

His steps immediately guide you to your bedroom, groaning and grunting while clothes are being stripped off one by one, leaving a trail of evidence with no intent of stopping the kiss.

Your feet knock against the foot of the bed, his signal to push you onto the mattress, abruptly ending the kiss as he looks down at your flustered expression with a smirk on his lips.

Relishing in your gaze, Satoru strips in front of you. Pulling his shirt over his shoulders with one hand, he flexes his stomach and takes his time to get naked.

He knows you'll look — you always do. Outside of being an athlete, what was the purpose of hitting the gym? To catch you lusting after him. He can practically see your mind racing with thoughts, and he couldn't wait to show that he's better than what your silly, pretty, little brain could ever imagine him doing to you.

Examining him from top to bottom, propped up on your elbows, you absorbed the sight of his smooth, toned chest as he stripped, the dentures of his muscles beautifully sculpted down from his chest to the crisp lining of hip dents that led to his crotch.

Leaning over, his body caging you with his toned arms, he gently places a kiss on your forehead, “like what you see?” he chuckles, “I’m pretty sexy, right?”.

"what the fuck?" you suddenly gasped.

“what?!” he whines — you can see his hair practically deflate.

Brushing your fingers over his chest, running your hand down to his abs, it’s smooth and toned. “thought your nipples would be pink,” you snorted, pinching his nipples.

He flinches at the pain, "it’s a brownish pink, for your information," He states, pouting, “and you’ve only noticed it now after how many times you’ve seen me naked?”

"I’m joking, stupid," You laughed, the melodic tune of your joy ringing in his ears like a constant melody.

“but I’m pretty right?” he pouts, biting your shoulders and softly kissing his denture marks.

“Yea sure whatever,” you breathe out, throwing your head back as he now kisses up your neck, your heart just about to burst out of your chest.

"Let's get this off, hm?" Satoru kindly asks while tugging on the bra strap.

Obediently nodding, you raise your arms like a kid, and he pulls it off over your head. And unlike the trail of clothes you’ve both left behind, he manages your garment with care — especially after the last one he “accidentally” ripped.

His hands rest on your stomach, fingers stroking every curve before he brings them up to cup your boobs, pushing up your breast to squish it softly.

“Feel good?” he asks, watching your expression slowly unfold in bliss.

And before you know it, he's dragged his hands down to your thigh, his fingertips softly grazing slowly to your panties, getting dangerously close to womanhood.

"Tell me how much you want me to touch you," He whispers, and in response you shove your fingers into his hair, gripping tightly.

The light callous of his fingertips trail over your clothed clit, gently stroking the base with his fingers, feeling your panties slowly becoming more damp with each touch.

Further opening up your legs, allowing him full access, he immediately takes the offer and ventures further along. situating himself in between your thighs to pull your panties off, kissing your hardened bud while peering up to see you touching your breasts, it’s a sweet sight to see for Satoru — breathless — while you longingly waited for him to just hurry the fuck up.

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “That’s fuckin’ cute.”

"Right there-" you whisper, and he nods, dragging his fingers along, slowly moving them around to stimulate you as he sucked on your clit, taking his time to prep you

“You still didn’t —” The vibration of his voice further stimulates your needy pussy, gasping as you curve your back, desperately reaching for more of his perfect stimuli, “answer my question,” he states.

"Don't piss me off," you groan, pushing his face back into its rightful place.

"Goddamn," He mutters, the grip of his hand on your thighs becoming harsher, and the stuck of his mouth further fueled fire to your core.

"I don't know how much longer I can wait when you treat me like that," he grunts while standing up again, simultaneously pushing down his pants and briefs, wasting no time as he wiggles out of his sweats.

You can see his dick is hard, twitching as it greets you.

He exhales heavily, stroking his length as he situates his head to brush over your pussy. He’s seen it countless times, but will never get enough of measuring just how far he can settle inside you. The sweet plush of your tummy offers more cushion and excitement as he watches you hitch up your hips, impatiently waiting for him.

"aren't you excited?" Gojo says with a grin, using his thumb to rub circles around your clit, guiding himself past your folds, purposefully missing your entrance to coat himself with your natural lubricant.

He doesn’t even wait for your answer, and wastes no time pushing himself in, pulling out a whimpered groan, allowing your walls to open up and welcome his entrance.

He picks up his pace, rhythmic and balanced while sliding his hands under your hips to lift you up slightly to make sure his entire length can fit inside.

"You're so tight.” Satoru grunts with a furrow in his brows as he dug his nails into your ass. hissing through his teeth while he continued to fuck through your tight hole, “You don't make this easy for me, do you?" He mocks, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulls you forward, your naked breasts bouncing with every impact.

You close your eyes, feeling every inch of his cock inside you. The slight tickle of his trimmed pubic hair brush against your clit as he slowly starts to roll his hips.

"You're so —" You whined, concentrating on keeping your sanity every time his tip painfully brushed back your sweet spot, "ngh — lazy!"

"Lazy, huh?" he scoffed, licking his lips like a predator locked in on his prey.

“ahh!” you yelped. within seconds you immediately find yourself on your stomach with Satoru’s weight crushing you from above. flipping you over without notice, wrapping a hand under your jaw as he turned your face towards him to deeply kiss, his feet harshly spreading and locking your thighs apart while his cock rammed into you, his balls splattering your wetness with each thrust.

"Maybe I won’t be so lazy if you become my girlfriend,” He states with a smirk, “just give in angel, you like my cock.”

“fuck — ‘Toru! slow d-down” you managed to cry out his name, his cock mercilessly thrusting into you, “you have n-no,” by now you were a babbling mess at how good he was fucking you, drooling with your lungs burning inside your ribs, “game tomorrow.”

“boo you’re boring,” He provokes, pushing his hand under your stomach to pull you on all fours, “never answering my questions.“

It doesn't take long for Gojo to adjust himself behind you. especially since your dripping cunt made it so for him to slide through every time. but it takes moments for you to readjust to him — every new position meant greater access for his cock to rearrange your insides.

“but this pussy will always be my good luck charm.”

It's almost as if you can feel his smirk as he grabs your hips, and begins to roughly pound into you in doggy.

"Look who’s lazy, c'mon, keep hips up, angel," He effortlessly teases, spanking your ass and firmly gripping onto the pulsing flesh.

"S-shut up, asshole,” you hissed, putting your head down on your arms for more leverage — it’s shocking how you’re not flying onto your headboard from the force of him thrusting into you.

"That's rich considering your asshole is right in front of me.” he chuckles, spreading open your cheeks to see your other hole pulsing on top of the one he was currently fucking, the rim barely withholding his girth, “ wanna try anal? it’s pretty, by the way."

"D-do you ever shut up?" You complain, reaching over to grab your pillow to muffle your moans. but in that split second, Satoru catches your wrists and pulls you backward, your back heavily arching and breasts rapidly bouncing in all directions, mimicking the robust thrusts of his cock pistoling into you.

“how can I, when you look so pretty,” his thrusts become more aggressive, “getting” thrust, he watches you crumble, face contorting in pleasure, he can tell you’re close, “fucked? thrust “by” he quickly catches your hand trying to reach down to stimulate your clit, “my” deeply pushing in, further splitting you open in half, the tip of his member knocking against womb, “cock.”

“too much…ahhh—wait! ‘Toru!” The bed violently shook as he drove his cock, balls slapping your wet pussy as your legs trembled with warm liquid dripping down from your thighs, slowly pooling onto the sheets.

“just say it, princess, you love me,” he growls, thrusting more as he nibbles on your lobes, pleasurable tears sliding down your cheeks as you instead gasp out his name.

“at least your pussy is honest.”

---

“I’m not here to talk, Suguru, get the fuck out of my way,” Satoru growled while pushing the other off.

“Don’t tell me, you still got no pussy to ask her out, Satoru,” the raven hair taunted.

“Nanami!” Satoru called out noticing his wing’s position wide open to shoot for a goal. It was apparent in the way Satoru briefly lost his balance, his composure starting to chip away from the strain of his muscles that he was getting exhausted — a feat Satoru would normally never struggle with until the last couple minutes of the game.

But speedily passing by and braking with thick shaving of ice spraying from the sudden stop, intercepting the puck when Nanami passes — a gameplay Suguru’s practiced countless times with Satoru — the Kyoto’s center was now in possession of the puck, taking no moment to rest before charging the opposite direction.

In those split seconds, Suguru jeered, “wasn't this our favorite play?”

“Fuck!” Satoru muttered under his breath, quickly changing momentum to skate the opposite way.

And just before the buzzer goes off, Suguru easily angles his stick to chip the puck, the force of the impact causing the biscuit to shoot straight into the net.

Satoru huffs just meters away, dumbfounded at how much Suguru’s improved and curated his craft. A force he once relied upon and leaned on, trained tooth and nail while shedding blood, sweat, and tears together since fourteen now has become a thorn to his side that contrived to bring him down, Suguru bypasses his once best friend, standing in shock.

“are you still in denial, or have I answered your question about who’s the traitor, Satoru?”

Tokyo (4): Kyoto (5)

Intermission before the third, final period —

A tie (6:6)

It was the longest eighteen minutes of your life. no one dared to even speak. Through the chatter and vibrancy of the stadium, only the heavy huffs and gulping of electrolytes of the players were heard. Even Yaga-Sensei just sat there, brows furrowed with his thick arms crossed over his chest.

And Satoru, too, silently sat on the bench, leaning on his elbows parched to his thighs, manspreading with a towel thrown over his head. The heat of his body contrasted with the gelid stadium had faint white smoke radiating from his expended body.

“Satoru,” you gently called out while handing out a fresh towel for him to use, “you’re going to catch a cold.”

“Don’t need it,” he dully murmured without taking a second to raise his head to acknowledge you.

“I —,” Yaga Sensei grasped hold of your shoulder to stop you from saying anything regretful that would further disturb him. Biting your tongue, you sighed, “Sure.”

The cold response of someone who literally just rearranged your guts so wantonly before the game, sharing an intimacy with him throughout the years that bloomed into something more than what you’d like to acknowledge than simply being a friend with benefit caused both frustration and helplessness to boil within you for not being unable to help him.

Not like he needed your help, nor did he ever ask. But from time to time, you wished he would let down his burdens with you, and allow you to carry his weight for a while.

Only once has he ever shown you his emotional side. The infamous night when Satoru received the news of Suguru’s departure, you found him drunk in front of your apartment waiting for god knows how long.

all you could remember was that the night was awfully cold for someone to have a broken heart.

That night, despite no words being said, the comfort of your arms and the warmth of your skin helped him to sleep despite the storm that raged in his mind.

It was understandable his mood. Normally he wouldn’t be so emotionally invested in a game, even if he had lost. During intermissions, he would either be chatting up a storm, blowing your ear off about all the plays he’s made and if you’ve finally fallen in love with him. Or, two, he’ll be listening to you nagging at him to not go throwing his opponents against the wall while wrestling for the puck.

Hockey was aggressive, but it was also an athlete’s duty to learn how to play smart and do their best to abstain from injuries that could potentially harm their career — especially, if the athlete in question is one preparing for his national debut to representing Japan in the Winter Olympics the following year.

Awkwardly, eyeing your expression, Haibara laughed while scratching the back of his head, cheerfully asking, “I would like a new one, mine’s a little damp.”

“Me too,” his blonded friend chimed in, his voice not as enthusiastic as Haibara’s.

Smiling in appreciation, you lent them a towel and extended the care to the other players as well.

“Why’d you give him the steal?” Sensei bluntly asked, looking at the rink while sternly watching Suguru make his way onto the field. His ex-disciple gave his old coach his respects with a little bow when he caught his gaze.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Satoru numbly stated, the clenching of his fists reflecting his true emotions.

“You know what to do,” Yaga-Sensei firmly stated, pushing his sunglasses up his thick nose, wasting no time before the buzzer rang again to redirect his player, “you know him better than anyone else, trust your instincts.”

Twelve minutes till game —

The crowd roars. Currently in the last period, with a couple more minutes on the clock to crown the final winner, both teams ferociously fought to control the game.

The pluck clicks with each hit against the blade. Speedily sliding against the ice it was almost difficult to see it on the field.

Currently, in possession, Nanami pushed forward, putting pressure on Kyoto’s defense as Haibara simultaneously rushed to the other side, leaving Satoru wide open for a pass. Nanami prepares to hit a pass over to his captain, hitching the puck in the air for a quicker velocity towards Satoru, who’s ready to receive —

The glass walls tremble on impact. Flinching at the loud noise, your eyes widen when you see it unfold in slow motion. Both bodies harshly collided against the wall with Satoru getting sandwiched between two forces. expelling out a groan as he slid down the wall, with puffs of white smoke spewing from his lips with each harsh huff of his chest.

“Seems like a brawl has occurred between the two captains!”

“And from the looks of it, Gojo Satoru is struggling to get back on his feet!”

“No,” you muttered under your breath, face paling and body going cold despite the adrenaline pumping through your blood, you pushed your way through the audience to get to where he was.

Your mind felt like a minefield. With bombs ticking, threatening to explode with each step you took. Nauseous from the anxiety, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe as if there was a ball stuck in your throat. And despite the efforts to try and stay calm, it was rather difficult when your thoughts replayed the countless other injuries Satoru sustained during your time as his manager.

“He’s going to have to take at least 8 to 10 weeks off for his fracture to heal.” The emergency physician stated, pointing at the small crack on his right clavicle.

“He probably won’t listen,” Sensei remarked, crossing his arms while letting out a deep sigh, “is there any way he can recover faster?”

“It’s fine guys —” Satoru tried playing it off.

“Shut up,” you and Sensei simultaneously interjected, scolding him to be quiet as if he were a child.

Clearing his throat, “As I was saying, it must’ve been painful for him to have played in this state, I imagine this was an ongoing injury he’s sustained in the past,” the doctor murmured while further analyzing the film.

You immediately shot daggers at him, glaring when the doctor unintentionally outed Satoru’s injury he’s been keeping a secret. Flinching, Satoru slowly sank further into his bed, covering his face with his blanket.

“Though, being diligent with his PT and fully resting his body for at least six weeks will be the fastest route for recovery.”

But, well… it doesn’t take more than five weeks for you to get a text from Suguru.

From: Suguru

Don’t get mad…

To: Suguru

You saying this makes me already mad. What happened?

From: Suguru

Just bring some icepacks and some sweets and head over to Satoru’s place.

To: Suguru

I swear to god if you guys play —

From: Suguru

... it's his fault.

And it doesn’t take you more than thirty minutes to be blowing up his doorbell, knocking on his door at exactly 12:34 A.M. with an ice cooler with icepacks and a bag full of his favorite candy.

Thud!

“Fuck… ow that hurt.” You heard a muffled voice through the door.

“It’s me.” You curtly announced.

Quickly opening the door, his elbow leaning against the door with an insouciant tone to his voice, he cracked a boyish smile, “Ah, isn’t this my favorite person. What brings you here?”

“I told you not to —” Rage bubbled up inside you as you glared at him.

“Okay!” Nervously holding up his hands, doing his best to calm you down, “before you get mad —”

“I’m already mad, Satoru —”

“Okay! Fine! Before you get even madder,” taking the heavy loads off your shoulders, settling them onto the floor, his warm hands cup your face, “it’s really nothing big. Just feels a little strained that’s all,” he tried to reassure when he sees you about to object.

“Really, I’m fine,” his eyes urged you to trust him, “I just… missed being on the rink, that’s all.”

Your eyes soften when you see the little sulk on his lip, and notice how he’s lost a little weight in his cheeks. Quickly letting out a deep sigh through your nose, you mumbled out, “I’ll be the one to decide if you’re fine or not.”

---

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, firmly holding onto the hem of his white shirt while saddling on his thighs.

“Oh wow.” he placed his hands on his chest, acting innocent from your forwardness.

“Satoru, take your shirt off,” you grumbled, pulling at his shirt and rolling your eyes when it was easily removed, despite him acting naive, again his hands covered his bare chest — just managing to barely cover his sculpted pectorals.

“It’s really nothing,” he blushed, awkwardly looking off to the side with a guilty smile.

“Satoru you just took off your sleeve,” you murmured, placing an ice pack on his collarbone, your voice filled with worry.

“I’m really fine, baby,” he loosened up after seeing the cute pout on your lips, your brows faintly furrowed as your fingers ever so lightly iced his injury.

“I’m not your baby,” you stated with a glare, clearly not impressed with his defiance to go against his doctor’s orders, “I don’t date people that don’t listen to me,” you said without much thought while tending to his bruised clavicle.

“Oh —” his ears perked at hearing your words.

Fuck.

“Wait! What I meant was —”

It was evident that he was trying to contain his smile from the way he bit his lips. “You so wanna date me don’t you?”

---

It’s not a surprise how you ended up in this position.

It started off with a light kiss, lips softly meshing with each other with light teasing of tongue — he swore, it’ll be just one kiss.

Soon enough hands start to idly move on their own accord, groping areas, and massaging places that wouldn’t particularly follow with just one kiss, leaving you both simultaneously panting and yearning for more.

And then you’re grinding on his throbbing cock, spit slightly leaking from the edge of your mouths while tongues feverishly fought for dominance, naked with your pussy pulsing and dripping in need to swaddle and engulf him whole.

Progressing forward, you’re slowly sinking onto his length, bottoming out with your ass seated on his thighs, foreheads linked while you both took a minute to adjust to one another. like an unspoken language, you both solemnly breathed, that even if the world crashed around you both, nothing would matter because the other was there.

He’ll cum.

It’s beautiful how he does it. And in moments like these, you can’t deny that the man who’s chasing after his high under you was the man you loved.

With his mouth gaping open, his white brows furrow as he gasps for air while his large hands grip your bum, spreading out your cheeks for easier access through your hole. He desperately thrusts into you, unrhythmic and hips helpless from the warm seduction your plush walls have over him. His seeds shoot straight to your womb, filling you entirely with pulps of his cum leaking through your cunt. And it takes him a couple seconds to breathe as he rides out his high.

And then you’ll be sandwiched in between the sofa and his heavy body, his cock rummaging inside, amplifying the sound of his member shoved through your dripping cunt. It’s loud and sloppy the way he fucks into you. Wanton and bashful in the way his muscles tighten in tandem with you clenching down when his head hits just the right spot.

Your legs immediately wrap around his hips, securing him down to fuck you in that position. And he doesn’t retaliate from the limited position, instead, he welcomes it. With his face burrowed into the curve of your neck, his palms pushing your thighs to your chest— biting, clawing, scratching, and licking — doing whatever it takes for you to rectify the burning ache in between your thighs, and for him to release his seeds into you again — again, and again, and again.

“—toru! please,” you cried out and in your plea, he answered, “I’m right here,” Satoru groaned, “Keep up with me — fuck, I swear, jus’ a little more.”

Tightly wrapping his arms around you, his face nuzzled closely to your ear. Despite him already being inches deep within you, his every grunt and pant, the desperate moans he releases while he states your name, mixed with delirious curses has you craving for more.

With his mind hypnotized from the pleasure of his cock rummaging your insides, swaddled in care despite his cock bullying past your folds, he becomes possessive and carnal.

“This is mine,” he harshly bites your shoulders, pleased when you yelp while simultaneously tightening your reign on his cock burrowed within your walls, “all mine. You’re fucking mine,” he proclaimed.

“ — ‘Toru please keep going fuck right there!” you sobbed, cheeks stained with euphoric tears.

“Just say you want it,” he growls muffled with his lips smashed with yours, “tell me you want me.”

“yes, I want it. I want it so, so bad — need you so bad ‘Toru!” you mewled, letting out a soft whimper, feeling the vibrations of his grunts, pulses of ecstasy pulsing through your veins and straight to your core as you succumbed all authority and control for him to do whatever he desired.

“Fuck fuck fuckkkkkk.” he curses when he hears your words. Like a broken record, it echoes in his brain, with every release of his cum, his breath hitching and body vibrating as he finally reached his climax.

The voice of you calling out his name so dearly repeats so melodically in his ears.

Soon, the room once filled with the savage slapping of wet skin and immoral use of dirty curses of pleasure while you both partook in unholy matrimony was now filled with a thick smell of post-sex pheromones, coupled with softened breaths and sweet hums of foolish lovers.

“Be careful,” you softly mumbled, under him, while your hands lightly weaved through his damp hair. you placed a soft kiss on his bruised collar, his pale skin accentuated the blue-green tint, making it look far worse than it was.

“aw, you worried for me? I’m so touched,” he faked a sob as he pulled you tighter into his arms, mumbling while he lavished in your warmth.

“I still didn’t forgive you,” you lightly pulled on his hair. his eyes were droopy and his body felt even more heavy over your limp one.

“Yea?” he hummed closer to your lips, gently kissing you while slowly grinding his hips to your wet core, “thought your harder harder ‘Toru harder was you forgiving me,” he lightly chuckled in between kisses.

“You’re the worst,” grumbling as you tightened your arms around his neck, snuggling closer to his warm body.

“Wow, you love me? I’m so touched,” Satoru softly chuckled, gently stroking your heated cheeks as he held you in his arms, he too, soaking in the warmth and feeling the beatings of your heart.

—

Your eyes focused on nothing but him despite the chaos around you — just a couple of steps from touching his slumped body,

A loud buzzer goes off, quieting your thoughts, the loud announcement ringing static in your ears.

“ Sustaining the blow, Gojo Satoru gets back on his feet again! He proves once again on the court he is The Honored One!”

Two minutes till game —

Head throbbing, and every inch of his body burning from the strain, Satoru vigilantly fought for control of the puck. Every second felt like an eternity, and every stride of his skates felt tortuous as if every fiber of his muscle were being torn apart.

Satoru quickly passes to Haibara, and fastidiously receives the puck again when he's open. Faking a move to juke out his opponent, Satoru was getting closer to Kyoto’s goal.

It was evident that fatigue was overwhelming each player on the court. With their voices hoarse, and sweat starting to sting their eyes, while puffs of smoke perspired with each agonizing breath causing their lungs to burn in their chest, no one was willing to back down.

Watching from the side while nervously biting your cheeks, you observed the game as Satoru flew through the rink. From the calmness of his eyes, and confidence in his strides, to the quickness of his feet and the gentle care to his game, things started to make sense.

For the man that obnoxiously barged into your life, ruining your pair of white shoes, to managing a spot in your heart, he sure made you fall — hard.

On one random afternoon while you watched him soundly sleep in your arms, lightly drooling as he mumbled something incoherent about some zunda and cream at Sendai Station — loving him came easily.

Because even if you tried running away, your feet would always end up back to him. And you knew the fire that you'll hold for him was going to burn, but you couldn’t resist the flame that he lit in your heart.

“With seconds to the clock, with Gojo Satoru’s lead, the Trailblazers are fighting desperately to win this game!”

Gojo Satoru — with him, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that.

“The Spartans are putting up a ferocious fight, Geto Suguru tries to steal the puck but is unsuccessful! Ladies and Gentleman, Gojo Satoru goes for the goal —”

Satoru sped his way across, the white tint of his jersey barely recognizable with his speed. The crowd cheers, sirens blow off to the throne the victors of this year’s champions.

And currently, tears freely flowed down your cheeks. And you let them despite the blur as you rushed onto the rink, the soles of your shoes about to slip on the scratched ice.

Because the saddest word in the world is almost, and he was worth more than being dwindled down to a regretful almost.

And if you had to defy fate, and create your own ending, so be it. You’ll suffer the consequence of meddling with destiny, and amend for your sins, in the future, when you’re dead if that meant there was a guarantee to have him in the present.

Because in the world of almost 8 billion people, somehow your worlds are intertwined.

“Be careful!” He panicked, throwing off his helmet as he rapidly skated over to you, “You’re going to hurt yo—”

Grabbing holding of his jersey, you slammed your lips with his — with thousands in the audience, cameras obnoxiously flashing up the rink in all directions.

You won’t hear the end of it from Yaga-Sensei, he’s certainly, most definitely mad.

Your anonymity is fucked, and now everyone will know you as the ‘girl that kissed Gojo Satoru’ — probably will be trending on all socials for at least a week, and that's being generous.

Maybe you were delusional or so high off adrenaline that you didn’t notice the mayhem surrounding you — especially not Satoru’s shocked expression when you suddenly kissed him.

But your ignorant bliss was soon interrupted when you slightly opened your eyes and were met with a thousand flashing lights that almost blinded your vision.

“— oh my god!” you squealed, immediately embarrassed at what you just did, only for Satoru to quickly hide you in his embrace, your face nuzzled into his chest.

“Looks like I’m not the one that’ll get in trouble by Sensei time,” he teased with his cheek placed on top of your head.

“Get me out of here,” you whined, “I’m so embarrassed…”

“Nah” Satoru cheekily smiled, tightly embracing you, “not until you give me a date.”

“You didn’t make the last shot stupid, Nanami did.”

“False, I assisted,” he stated after briefly calling out for one of his teammates, “If you weren’t so lovestruck by my handsome face, and actually saw my brilliant performance, then you would’ve seen the phenomenal play I had with Nanami.”

“Satoruuuu,” you whined, lightly stomping on your feet, getting increasingly squirmish from all the mess you’ve created.

“Told you,” whispering into your ear, “I’ll always win,” he stated before pushing his helmet over your head, reaching down to hold your hand as he led you out of the rink. The confidence in his walk looked almost arrogant, with you helplessly following, as he made his way to the lockers — a routined celebration after a game now as your boyfriend —

“Because you're my lucky charm, babe.”

author's note: if you made it to the end, thank you. i didn't expect a silly thought to lead to my distress about creating another au for him. But nonetheless, I hope you've all enjoyed ◡̈

#ae.writes #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #darkmode.

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cosmicbucky · 6 months

Text

wallpaper

summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1000

warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers, this was just a dumb idea i had

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The first time Bucky changed the wallpaper on your phone, it was an accident - kind of. He sat on your couch, lazily scrolling through the photos of Alpine you insisted he looked at, because you simply couldn’t resist having a Halloween photoshoot with her while he was off on yet another mission, leaving her in your trusting hands. He was happy you were in the kitchen, because he would never let you see the smile he wore as he browsed the album, chuckling silently to himself over how elaborate these photos were. His mood swiftly changed when he swiped incorrectly, an array of different options suddenly presenting themselves to him. He swore under his breath as he tried to make them go away, but he only made it worse as the option to change your wallpaper came up. With an annoyed huff, he just kept tapping, figuring that eventually he would get it back to how it was. After a few more grueling seconds, he sighed in relief as he was once more face to face with Alpine sitting inside a jack-o-lantern candy bucket - how was he supposed to know that photo was now both your lockscreen and homescreen?

“Did you change my lockscreen?” you curiously asked when you finally sat back down beside him, taking your phone and checking it for any new messages.

“Did I what?” he asked in confusion, his head snapping up from his own phone to look at you with a scrunched brow.

You could only laugh lightly, turning your phone to display the new photo brandishing your screen. The second Bucky saw it, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as his face flushed ever so slightly.

“I, uh- sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, your phone is just - it’s different than mine.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, your chuckles growing into more laughter as you realized it was also your homescreen. “It’s okay, Buck,” you assured softly, laughing quietly as you changed the photos back to their precursors. “It could have been worse, at least it’s not an embarrassing photo or something.”

You were too busy fixing his mistake to notice the glint that sparkled in his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as your words gave him the most incredible idea he’s had in a while.

The second time Bucky changed your wallpaper, it was very much not an accident. You left him your phone so he could look at the photos you took on your latest trip, unpacking your bags as he split his attention between listening to your stories and scrolling through a seemingly endless array of new pictures - which he truthfully enjoyed, but he was on a secret mission for the perfect, nondescript one to choose.

“Again, Buck?” you giggled, flopping on the bed beside him as you took your phone back.

“What?” he asked, just innocent and clueless enough to not raise any flags.

“You and your fat thumbs, I swear,” you mumbled under your breath, changing the photos back once more, completely oblivious to his proud little smirk.

It took three more times for you to suspect that Bucky had started doing it on purpose, but your suspicions weren’t proven correct until he took a photo of you to display.

“Did you- when- really?” you stammered as you looked between him and your phone, half annoyed and half impressed because when did he even take this photo?

He only grinned in response, laughing about how long he was able to do it under the pretense of it being an accident before running away in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow you threw after him.

From that moment on, it became a game for him.

Any opportunity that presented itself, Bucky snatched your phone and changed your displays to the most embarrassing and ridiculous photos of yourself.

A sunset was changed to you mid-sneeze. Alpine was changed to you post-nap. You partying with the gang was changed to an extreme close up of your face in that very photo. Louisiana docks were changed to you mid rant as you yelled at him to give you your phone back. A cherry blossom was changed to you passed out on the couch, wrapped up in a hoodie you stole from him and drooling all over the sleeve of it.

As time went on, you stopped being surprised whenever it happened, and you grew to enjoy it. It was a silly thing, but it was a silly thing that only you and Bucky shared. It was a special thing, a cherished thing. It was your favourite thing.

Neither of you realized how the dynamic between the two of you started morphing into something else right in front of your very eyes. It was slow. It was gradual and complex and delicate and went unnoticed for almost a whole year.

It was only noticed now, as Bucky took the opportunity to grab your phone as you slept soundly against his chest. It had been a while since he was able to get a chance to do this, and so he eagerly unlocked your phone, already running through different ideas of what picture to use.

He was caught off guard when the picture staring back at him was from a few weeks ago. It was the day you finally convinced him to let you drive his bike after months of endless asking. It was a photo neither of you knew Sam took until later that night, when he sent it to both of you.

It was you, sat in front of him on the bike and wrapped up in his arms, one securely planted on either side of you as his hands rested on yours, guiding you through everything as you both gleefully laughed at the fact that you actually managed to convince him to do this.

For once, Bucky didn’t have the heart to change it.

He couldn’t.

It was his wallpaper, too.

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cherry-leclerc · 5 months

Text

can’t you see ☆ mv1

genre: redbull!driver, enemies to lovers, smut, lando and danny playing cupid lol, protective!max (although he won’t admit it), mean!max, sub!max, dom!reader

word count: 3.2k

In between your mutual dislike with your teammate, Lando and Daniel try their best to make you and Max uncover some hidden feelings.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, riding, sucking on fingers

req!...quick one, but ahh first maxie drabble. eekk :)

“What a fucking asshole.”

Daniel’s eyes bulge out as he hands you a cup of coffee. It had been an extremely long day. Perhaps not the best idea to keep it going, but it seemed like the FIA didn’t give a shit about that. You were past being upset. You were seething.

“Uh…Yeah. I mean I get it. I’m tired, too. This red flag came at the worst time-”

Briskly, you take the cup from him, cutting him off. “It’s not the red flag, it’s Max.” Ever since you joined Formula 1 as the first female to drive for Red Bull, you had felt welcomed by everyone. Everyone but your actual teammate. You had thought maybe it was because he had small balls and couldn’t handle the fact that you were driving alongside him, but when you confronted him about it, he only growled.

As if you would ever cross my fucking mind.

Squinting, you point accusingly at the Australian. “You ought to stop being his friend.” He loudly laughs as he throws his head back.

“You say that every time.”

Making a face, you shoot back. “And you never choose!”

“You’re both my friends. No one is winning custody.”

“You’re older than both of us combined.”

“Hey!”

Hey, a low voice replies. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A shiver runs down your spine. Max leans up against the nearest wall as he ignores you and keeps his eyes on his friend. You wave your hand up in front of him a couple of times for good measure before your mouth drops open when he acts as if you were Casper the Friendly Ghost.

“We were just talking abou- Ouch!” Daniel shrieks in pain when you pinch him. Faking a smile, you turn to the Dutchman. We were actually in the middle of something here. Nothing. He just keeps looking past you. Running a hand through his hair, he starts talking about how this all ‘ruined my flow’ and how he was going to have to ‘try to fix the FIA’s mistakes’. You have to laugh.

“Is something funny to you?”

You look around the room as you theatrically shudder. Sipping on the hot beverage, you hum and close your eyes. Max clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he crosses his arms in frustration. Cold weather, Danny. Do you think there’s a place nearby that sells homemade chicken soup?

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“If we find one, then maybe we can invite Lando and-” Suddenly, he reaches out for your cup and hot drops hit your hand. You hiss in pain. “What’s your problem, dickhead?”

Now, a normal reaction would be to be a decent human being and apologize. Offer up their own cup of coffee, perhaps. Not Max. Throwing it into the nearest trash bin, he turns to you. And he actually has the audacity to look upset.

“Why didn’t you let me overtake you? I don’t know if you don’t know this because you’re new or something like that, but here, when we are instructed to do something - we do it.”

Narrowing your eyes, you step closer. “So what? I don’t let you by one time and suddenly I’m the bad guy? Let me remind you that that’s all I’ve done for you this season.”

“Maybe when you’re someone’s number one driver then you won’t have to do shit like this, but until then,” he angles himself lower to you, “...It kinda looks like you have to.”

“Oh. No.” Daniel winces as he sips quietly on his hot drink. He can physically see your wheels turning as you glare back at the Dutchman. Your cheeks have turned light pink as you refrain yourself from yelling in front of all the Alpha Tauri engineers. Max scrunches his nose.

“Cute.”

You’re about to explode and let all hell loose, but just then, the red flag is over. Huffing, you grab your helmet as you walk away without sparing a single goodbye. Daniel frowns. “You need to stop treating her like that.” Max scoffs. Treating her how? The Australian inches closer as he lays a large hand on his friend's shoulder. “Like you don’t care.”

As soon as the race picks back up, you’re in the zone. You have to work twice as hard to overtake anyone in your way, considering most drivers were on new tires, but eventually you worked your way through. Drops of rain hit your visor as you slow down in sector 2.

“Should I be worried about the rain?”

“Nothing to be worried about, just keep it up.”

You nod, even though Christian can’t see you. As you get closer, you can see Max’s rear wing. He’s fast - zooming, almost - but that only made you want it even more. Defend. I repeat, defend for a 1-2 finish. “Yeah. No.” Entering the DRS zone, you press down on the throttle as you try all tactics to catch up with the 3x World Champion. Fat drops of water hit the Red Bull as you squint in order to not get lost with the commotion. What are you doing? Defend. “I am defending.” You press harder. “Except I’m defending my spot. Not his.”

It’s almost as if he knows what you’re about to do. Quickly, he scans his sideview mirror as he curses when he sees that you weren’t slowing down. It looks like the two Red Bulls are going head-to-head! Probably not the best idea at the moment considering the tough weather, Crofty announces. Passing Max by, you can’t help but cheer as you try to imagine his reaction.

“Not what we were picturing, but very well executed. He will be defending now.”

It wasn’t planned to get stung by a boiling hot coffee, of course it wasn’t, despite the bickering between you two. It wasn’t planned to take time to scratch your burnt hand. And it most definitely was not planned to crash.

Plunging into the wall, you groan, curses flowing past your lips. Are you okay? “Yes. I’m okay.” Lifting your visor, you shyly wave at the grandstands. Would you mind going over to check on Max? He’s currently not responding. Your heart stops. Jumping off your seat, you climb out of your car as you turn and sure enough, Max’s Red Bull is ruined.

“Are you alright?”

Throwing a thumbs up, he lifts himself out of his car to wave at the fans. He turns to you, dark blue helmet still over his head. “What the fuck was that all about?” You narrow your eyes.

“What do you mean? I got an itch.” And though he wears his helmet, you can’t help but notice the crinkles by his eyes. Your stomach flips. It's because of the crash. That’s all it is. You clear your throat. “What happened to you? You were driving well.” Professionally, he slides his gloves off as he waves over at the safety car.

“I had to check on you one way or another, right?”

Dumbfounded, you're faced with his back as he walks away.

“He’s into you, can’t you see it!”

“No. Jesus, don’t even say that.” Lando raises his brows as he throws his legs on top of your bed. Daniel hums from underneath the covers. He’s right, though. Pulling the sheets off, you scowl. “Don’t give me reasons to kick you both out.” Throwing yourself onto the mattress, you smile widely. “Soooo, what’s new?”

It’s all you three are ever good for. Pure gossip. Chewing hard on a piece of pizza, you gag. Daniel cackles as he reaches for the last slice. Hey! What if I wanted that? He cocks his head. Fine, you mumble.

“All I wanted was a warm soup.”

A gentle knock echoes through the room as you all turn to face it. Go and open it, Daniel hisses. Wha- No! You go open it, Lando whispers back. Bunch of babies, you murmur as you untangle yourself from your blanket. Swinging the door open, you freeze. Standing tall is Max with a paper bag at hand.

“Hey.”

Peeking out into the hallway, you stare back confused. “Hey?”

Almost timidly, he kicks his feet up against the wall with a small smile. He extends his arm out, signaling for you to take the mysterious bag. I don’t want any problems, you choke out, feeling skeptical. His blue eyes grow wide.

“Oh. No, don’t worry!” He opens the bag and takes out a small container. Leaning forward, you feel blood rising up to your cheeks. “It’s just soup.”

After an awkward exchange, he leaves. Inhaling the delicious scent, you let out a dreamy sigh.

“He so likes her.”

“We might have been wrong.”

Lando tilts his head, curly strands bouncing at the motion. Daniel hurriedly takes a seat next to the Brit as he smacks his large hands on the table. “What do you mean, mate?”

Daniel scans the room quickly before shaking his head. “I mean, that I just heard them two. They were going at it.” Lando blushes as he lets out an awkward laugh. I don’t even want to know. The Australian bites back a smile as he continues. “Not like that. Yet. What I mean is that they’re back to square one. He’s being a complete dick.”

“Alright. Looks like we have to knock some sense into him.”

Go, Daniel mouths once Max enters the debrief room, eyes entertained on his phone screen. Pushing past the Dutch, Charles jogs over to where you sit next to George. “Hey!” Greeting him back with a warm smile, you pat to the open seat. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite after this. Maybe some chicken soup?” You beam.

“I love a good soup!”

Rapidly, Max’s ears perk up as he hears your conversation with the Monegasque. He was well over the rivalry, but with this? He would not second guess bringing it back. He clenches his jaw as he notices you nodding along with Charles. Strolling over to the small group, he shoots a bitter grin.

“Did you see Christian’s message about our last minute meeting?”

“Hello to you, too.” Checking your phone, you look back confused with a pout. “No. I haven't received anything.”

“Yeah, well, there’s one-”

“No, there's not.” Flickering your eyes behind your teammate, you’re even more lost. With hands on his hips, Christian taps his shoe as his eyes flicker between his two Red Bull drivers. “Don’t mind him, sweetheart. There’s no meeting.” He sends a small wink at Charles before walking off to the rest of the team principles. Max slumps.

“Ha. Guess it got canceled or something like that…”

Rushing over Lando and Daniel, Charles hunches over as he starts blabbering. “Did it work? Please tell me it worked - God - I think I almost shit myself. Tell me it fucking wo-”

The Brit points discreetly to where Max paces the room, orbs trained on you like a guard dog.

“It’s definitely working.”

He smacks a one hundred dollar bill onto a large hand.

“And thank you for the help, too, Mr. Horner.”

Despite the attempts to get you and Max together, nothing seemed to work. The blue eyed boy would appear to start registering his feelings, and at the last minute, would completely chicken out. It would be an outright lie to say that this didn’t entertain the Alpha Tauri and McLaren boys, but they also knew that they had to continue their fairy godparent duties.

“Watch it!”

Crashing onto the couch inside of the Red Bull Hospitality, Max’s face bounces against it. He groans in pain before throwing a harsh stare at his friends. Lando stiffles a giggle as Daniel raises his arms up in defense. Getting seated, the Dutch looks back with a sour expression.

“What’s this hostile situation about?”

Lando panics as he turns to his mate. The Aussie licks his lips, patting his lap. “Look, we’ve noticed a few things-” What things? He huffs. “Maybe if you would just let me finish-” That’s what she said! He glares at Lando who slaps a hand over his mouth, tears from unreleased laughter painting his blue eyes. “As I was saying…We’ve noticed your behavior towards a special little someone…”

“Towards Heidi? Shit. I didn’t think it’d be that noticeable.”

Lando clicks his fingers rapidly before pointing at the Red Bull driver. “He’s trying to not talk about it because he knows where this is going!” No, I’m not, Max shrieks as his voice cracks. Blushing, he pushes his hat lower to his face.

“You like her!”

“You know I like Heidi! She’s good for you-”

“You know that’s not who we’re talking about.”

It’s silent for a while. Standing up, Daniel goes to sit next to the 26 year old. Running a hand over his face, Max’s sighs as he looks up. “I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?”

“That’s totally fine, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat her like a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. She’s amazing. Could have anyone - and I mean anyone - but she likes you. I don’t know why or how, but she likes you.” Daniel scoots away when Max narrows his eyes.

“She doesn’t like me.”

Jumping over the coffee table, Lando plops down. “Yes! She does. Ask me how I know.” A bored expression slashes Max’s face as he asks anyway. How, Lando? How do you know? “Because she’s always fighting with you.”

Daniel clicks his tongue as he slowly squints his brown eyes. “I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making, mate.” The Brit waves him off.

“I’m dead serious. When she gets upset, she always walks away because she claims to not want to waste her time on stupid arguments. But with you,” he pushes his index finger against the Red Bull polo, “With you she never - ever - walks away. Sure, you’re both at each others throats, but that only means one thing.” He leans against the sofa as he takes a sip of the open energy drink.

“She doesn’t mind wasting time on you.”

After some more convincing, the duo had managed to raise the 26 year olds confidence. They could be wrong. Embarrassingly wrong, but how would he ever know if he never tried? Taking in a deep breath, he finds himself knocking on your door.

“More soup?”

Sheepishly, he shakes his head. His heart skips a beat as he notices how laid back you seem. How relaxed you were. He was going to ruin all that. He was going to say something that would change everything and things might never be the sa-

“Wanna come in?”

Handing him a plate of cut up watermelon, you take a seat in front of him, legs tucked beneath your butt. What are you doing out so late at night, Mr. Max Verstappen? He sets the plate down as he forces himself to mold into his chair.

“I’ve never hated you.”

You blink. Clearing his throat, he looks down to his lap as he fiddles his fingers. “I know I’ve been such a bad teammate - I know - but I promise that it never had to do with you.”

“Okay. So…then what did it have to do with?”

He lets out a croaky laugh as he shuts his eyes. “That’s the tough part…” Opening his blue eyes, he finds you staring back, waiting for an answer. “I feel the opposite of hate…towards you.” He hates the way your face doesn’t change and you remain still. He hates when you shrink back and chew on your lip.

But he could never find himself hating the moment you climb onto his lap.

“T-that’s not what I came here for-”

“I know.” You slide your hands against his stubble. “Your confession was…adorable. Had trouble saying those words out loud, right? Because you,” you strum your finger against his chest, “...You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.”

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. A giggle bubbles up your throat, eyes crinkling shut. His breath hitches. “I feel things…” Your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. Sure you do, Maxie-

Grabbing your face with his left hand, he kisses you. It’s hot, feverish, and impatient.

It’s him.

Whimpering, you grind against him as he groans underneath you. Forcing himself to pull away from your warm lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Was that enough proof?”

“I might need more.”

It’s such a moment of pure adrenaline, that you can’t even pinpoint the moment your hatred towards him had turned into lust. All you know is that it felt so good to be riding him. Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up as he lets out a strained moan. The sound itself makes you drip even more.

You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him moaning your name like a prayer. Oh, fuck. Holy shit. Pushing his hands down, he opens his eyes as he looks back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again. But he’s already kissed you. He’s already been inside of you.

He would beg you to stay in order to make you keep it that way.

“B-baby.” He whimpers with the way you dig yourself against him before circling your hips. Slow. “It’s okay if you want to stop-” You slide his fingers into your mouth. He swears he could finish with such a pretty sight.

“I don’t want to. I just want you to say sorry for everything you’ve ever done to me.”

“I already said I never meant any of it! You’re absolutely everything to me.”

Your core grows tighter with his affirmations. Holding onto his broad shoulders, you continue your sinister rhythm. “Maybe. But I still want one.”

“I’m so-”

Rubbing your bare tits against his chest, he shudders as he harshly pinches your thigh. Try again. “I said I’m so-” Pulling all the way out, you slide back down onto his cock. “Oh - don’t fucking do that.”

“Try again.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”

A satisfied smile slides onto your plump lips as you nod before kissing him and riding him the way you know he deserves. With one last hop, you both finish as he moans into your neck. Your fingers push his sweaty, blondish strands away before pressing your lips against his cheek. He smiles weakly.

“I like you, too.” You look down before returning your attention. “But I can’t be with you.”

“Wh-”

“Max. Let’s be realistic here. I’m a girl in Formula 1. You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to get here. I’ve had to do twice the work simply because I’m not a man.” You roll your eyes. “People are going to hate me. Call me names - God, I can already hear them.”

He never thought his heart could actually hurt for someone. You were really messing him up. He gingerly rubs small circles against your cheek.

“I’ll ruin whoever says anything bad about you, but please give this a chance. I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I do you. Please.”

And yes, there will be nasty comments. Hateful interpretations about your relationship. But that never really mattered as long as you had him.

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riality-check · 8 months

Text

Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.

But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.

Steve very much did not need to know that.

With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.

He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.

Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.

So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.

“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.

“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.

The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.

A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.

And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.

“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”

“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”

“We already have the axe!”

“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”

“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”

Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.

“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”

“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.

“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”

“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”

“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.

“You gotta give him context.”

“No, I don’t, Jeff.”

The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.

“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.

“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”

Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”

Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.

Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"

"Anna," she says.

"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"

"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."

"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.

Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."

"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."

Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.

"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.

Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”

“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.

Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.

It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.

It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.

Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-

Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.

Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.

He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"

She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.

Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"

"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.

"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.

"Like dancing?"

"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."

"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"

Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.

"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."

"Sorry," Eddie whispers.

"Don't be."

Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."

"Anna," Steve cautions.

"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.

Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"

"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.

Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.

By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.

Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.

When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.

"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"

"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you-"

"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.

"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.

Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.

Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.

"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."

"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"

"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"

Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."

The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.

Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.

Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.

He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.

He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.

Whatever that means.

Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.

He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.

It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.

It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.

Shit.

(Part 2 is alive!!)

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #dilf steve harrington #corroded coffin #dilf and concert #d&c au

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gay-dorito-dust · 19 days

Text

How’d they react to finding you sleeping anywhere but the bed…

Dick: sharing the dog bed with Hayley (fail):

At first he thought something was wrong when he didn’t hear you or Hayley greet him home and soon began to search the spy for you both.

So the moment he finds you fast asleep on Hayley’s dog bed with Hayley tucked closely into your chest, head resting underneath your chin. His heart immeditly melted and his phone was out and taking photos nearly every 0.5 seconds, only until he was forced to stop due to how much storage they took up but he didn’t regret it.

Not one bit. He even has one printed out that he kept on him to look at whenever he felt as though he needed to be reminded of how he had waiting back home for him.

You both were effortlessly cute to Dick, he couldn’t help it but feel a little left out as he then tries to join you in the dog bed, only to almost ends up capsizing the three of you and waking both you and Hayley, who began licking his face as her tail smacks you in the arm repeatedly.

‘What were you trying to do?’ You asked Dick, sitting up.

Dick pouted. ‘Join in the fun.’

‘We were sleeping in a dog bed, how’s that fun.’ You said, not bothering to add the fact that you had accidentally fell asleep on Hayley’s dog bed because you were waiting up for him but failed.

‘Fun to me is wherever you and Hayley are.’ Dick answered truthfully.

You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘You’re such a dork, you know that right.’ You told him.

‘Yes. And?’ He says cheekily, more than happy to be home with his little family.

Bruce: in the Batmobile:

Alfred told him where you were and that you best be moved to a more comfortable place then the passenger seat of the Batmobile.

How you got in there was a mystery to both men but what was more impressive was how you could possibly sleep against those hard rich leather seats in the first place.

Bruce couldn’t blow but let out a little chuckle when he opened the side door, just to see you with your face half pressed against the seats before jolting yourself awake.

‘Wha- I didn’t do nothing officer it was the dog.’ You said groggily as you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes as they tried to bring reality into focus.

‘Have a good nap did we?’ Bruce asks, finding some amusement in your half asleep nonsense.

‘Why, who’s asking?’ You replied.

‘Your consciousness.’ Bruce joked sarcastically. ‘Come on let’s get you to bed before you develop a-‘

‘Ow my neck.’ You groaned as you held a hand to your neck the moment you tried to move it.

‘-Crooked neck.’ Bruce sighs as he offers you a hand. ‘Come on, let’s go find Alfred so that we can alleviate you of this pain.’ You pouted as you grabbed onto his hand and letting him pull you out of the Batmobile. ‘Alfred is going to scold me isn’t he?’ You asked. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ Bruce answered as he helps guide you out of the Batcave.

Alfred’s scoldings were nothing to scoff at, and Bruce would know as he’s been on the receiving end of a few before in the past. After all getting scolded by Alfred was enough to set a stubborn man straight.

‘Damn.’ You muttered.

Damian: in the barn, on top of Goliath:

He didn’t have to look far, he knew you’d be in the barn but what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be fast asleep on top of his demonic dragon bat, whom had draped a protective wing over you as though it were swaddling you in an extremely warm blanket.

He had told you about the story of how he met Goliath and took him home on more then one occasion, as it was secretly his favourite story because it helped him with his own internal struggles on who he should be, and also how his past doesn’t define him, but what he chooses to do in the future does.

So seeing you cuddled up to Goliath without an ounce of care made him smile a little to himself at the prospect of you accepting him for who he was truly, rather than believe what other people viewed him as. You stood out of the crowd rather than follow it and Damian couldn’t be more grateful for you sticking by him, even through the extremely tough times where even he thought he went too far with his outbursts towards you.

‘Tt. Idiot.’ He says affectionately as he walks further into the barn, stopping along the way to pet BatCow and Jerry the Turkey. ‘Aren’t they?’ He asks both animals who only blinked at him as they mindlessly chewed on their food. Damian hums. ‘You’re right, they may be an idiot but they’re still my idiot at the end of the day.’

Damian ends up falling asleep against BatCow’s side as Jerry the Turkey made himself comfortable on his lap.

Jason: kitchen counter:

Him and Roy have a bet on where Jason would find you asleep next.

It had happened way too often for them that they’d hates themselves forever for not making a game out of it at any point in their lives.

This time Roy betted that you’d fall asleep on the kitchen counter, whereas Jason believes you’ll fall asleep against the window sill.

So when Jason got back home late one night after patrol, he immeditly went to look for you at the window sill. Nothing. ‘Damn it Roy.’ He cursed under his breath as he then walked into the kitchen, praying that he wouldn’t have to tell his friend that he won the bet for the eighth consecutive time.

Only for you to be fast asleep on the fucking kitchen counter, just as Roy predicted you would. Jason felt as though his friend was cheating somehow because it didn’t make sense for him to have correctly predicted where you’d be found sleeping as often as he did. Unfortunately for Jason, he couldn’t back up his claim as to why he thought Roy cheated, for there wasn’t any substantial evidence to prove that Roy was cheating.

And so with a heavy heart, Jason walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling out his phone to text Roy that he has won…again, and pocketing his phone as he carried you off to your shared room. ‘I love you chipmunk but you’ve got to start sleeping in places where I’ll surefire win the bet against Roy next time okay?’ He says against your head, kissing it.

‘Okay. I’ll try.’ You murmured.

‘That’s my baby.’ Jason said as he tucked you into bed before following suit.

The next day, Roy was smirking like a Cheshire Cat as he talked about his eighth consecutive victory, whereas Jason looked about ready to strangle the next person who looked at him funny.

2K notes · View notes

roturo · 9 months

Note

HERE ME OUT

Toji, Gojo, Megumi (choose one, i dont mind) realize spanking isnt doing much for a punishment anymore (youre enjoying it too much) so they come up with other ideas

ex. watching you get fucked by a fuck machine in a mirror while u cum over n over begging for the real thing, seeing how many sex toys you can get away with wearing in public, switching between making you cum over n over to not letting you cum every hour or something ALL NIGHT, etc

BRAT - JJK MEN

warnings: smut, overstimulation, semi-public sex, edging, ice cube play, cunnilingus, slapping, pussy slapping, degradation, spanking, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, dumbification, sub-space, dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, bondage, bdsm, handcuffing, use of vibrator, throat bump, tummy bump (idk how it's called), bratty reader, objectification, jealousy, mirror sex, breeding, unprotected sex, penis in vagina, there's more warnings but idk.

Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro & Sukuna.

Gojo Satoru

He first realized spanking you as a punishment isn’t working when your bratty remarks started becoming more usual after 3 or 4 spanks, you moaned at the feeling and teased him even more for him to do it again.

To say he’s angry at this is an understatement, because he hates brats. Hates not having control, and your behavior being the last drop of breaking was all he needed to give you a real punishment.

You thought he was being mean? Oh no, he was being nice right now.

You pull on his white locks and the only answer you receive is a disapproval grunt from him. You sob, so overwhelmed and tired, but you can't deny how good his tongue feels on your naked core.

The feeling of his tongue abusing your overstimulated hole had you feeling dizzy, but the vibratory he had on his hand teasing your swollen nub made the pleasure more unbearable than before.

He already got two orgasms out of you, one with his fingers patting gently your sweet spot and the other by sucking avidly on your clit while he fingered you and used the vibratory to tease your other hole. You don't remember which one came first and maybe they both happened at the same time. You don't really know.

And the worst thing of all? You were in a public space.

You never noticed he brought a vibrator, it's like he knew you were looking for this, for a punishment, but he also knows you don’t see spanking as a punishment anymore, so he had a change of plans.

You were a little bit too flirty with Nanami tonight, he couldn’t take it, so when he saw you going to the restroom he didn’t care it seemed so obvious, he followed you behind.

Your pleas for him to stop went to deaf ears, not taking care in the world and not having any hint of stopping this.

You already had your makeup messed up, you’re sure about that, tears coming out your eyes, smudged lipstick, messy hair, he made sure for everyone to know he fucked the soul out of you. Making visible hickeys on your neck, he wanted to humiliate you.

And if like that wasn’t enough, once he finished he left the vibratory inside of you, so when the both of you walked out, not only everyone knew you two fucked at the restroom, but they’ll know you’re struggling to even talk or walk.

“Ah-ah, you acted like a bitch, i’ll treat you like one.”

Geto Suguru

This man is RUTHLESS. He would tie up your arms and legs on the bed so you can’t move. Using an ice cube toy tease your body, saying is “what you deserve for being too fucking horny all the time”

The vibrator inside of you wouldn’t stop at any moment, making you come with no break, his tongue playing with your nipples, licking your tummy while going down on you till he found your clit. Grabbing another ice cube and tracing near your cunt.

He would spit on you or slap your pussy every time you told him to stop, making you even a messier moaning mess. His words would be hard too, not accepting any type of bratty behavior coming out of you, it’s what you earned.

He was angry, he couldn’t contain watching you dance with another man, knowing he was right there. You aren’t anything serious, yet, but he makes sure for everyone to know you’re his.

You felt dizzy, coming into subspace once he finished giving you your last orgasm of the night. Needing some time more to adapt to your surroundings. He made sure to cum in your stomach once he felt he couldn’t contain it anymore, and that’s when he knew he had to stop.

Because this man has self-control, he wanted to prove a point and he made sure of doing it. Treating you like a slut. Fucking you like a slut. You’re no one’s slut but his.

Toji Fushiguro

He’s the opposite of Geto, he’ll make sure to have all the pleasure for himself and just him.

You were about to cum? too bad, because he’s the one coming, not you. He would even edge himself just to make sure you don’t come. Using you like a fucking toy in front of his mirror, pinching your nipples and biting your shoulders.

Your pussy would be so full of him you could even feel a small bump in your tummy, filling you up with his cum, the slickness of it making it easier for him to thrust into you.

Every time he touched your g-spot with his cock, you were almost screaming, begging for release. Every time you close your eyes he would grab you by the chin, threaten to not let you cum for 30 minutes more if you close them again.

Wetting his fingers with your liquids and mostly his cum just to insert them in your mouth. “You want to feel that too, huh? You want to taste yourself too?”

Nodding your head like you could, trying to say yes but every time you opened up your mouth a moan came out of it, just being able to call his name and little ‘please’

But he just laughed at how fucked up you look right now, continuing thrusting into you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist while the other one grabs you by your throat, making sure you’re looking at the two of you in the mirror.

Depending on how good you behave, he’ll decide if he’ll let you cum or not. You might spend the whole night without coming until the next time both of you have sex, thrusting you to make this punishment again if you cum without him.

Megumi Fushiguro (My man, my husband, my boyfriend)

He wouldn’t show he was angry at you, noticing you were enjoying the slaps on your ass, he just suddenly stopped. Analyzing what he should do.

Your smirk disappeared once you heard the silence, not feeling his hands on your ass. Looking through your shoulder, you found a blank face megumi looking at you

You were laying down on his lap and the couch, your ass displayed for him while he manhandled you. You were about to ask what’s wrong until he pulled you by the hair looking at your face before he switched positions, you’re now sitting on his lap.

With his cursed energy, some snakes came from the shadows and made sure he grabbed you by the wrists, putting them on your back so the snakes could simulate a handcuff.

Megumi is a silent man.

But this silence felt really different from the others, his dark blue orbs seemed almost black, his gaze showing no emotion other than seriousness.

He grabbed you by the armpits and positioned you on the floor, kneeled in front of him, while you watched him unbuckle his pants.

Lowering down enough his pants and boxers so his cock was displayed, pinkish tip with a small pearl coming out of his tip, a vein coming from the base on the left side, and slightly curved.

“Open your dirty mouth slut.”

You did as he said, and he wasted no time in inserting his cock inside of you, giving you and your poor throat no time to adjust while he bobbed your head.

Your nose touching his pelvic bone, his free hand traveled down your face until he felt your throat, a small bump appearing and disappearing each time he thrusted inside of you.

A smirk appeared on his face while he groaned and left small whimpers at the pleasure of using you like a cum dump.

He has a lot of stamina, he doesn’t give up for nothing, not on a fight, not on smacking your bratty face out of your sight.

He felt that tingly feeling on his stomach, ready to cum, with just some more thrusts he dumped strips of cum inside your mouth.

You coughed a little, sore throat, trying to regain your posture when his cock left your mouth, it was still rock hard.

“Don’t have big hopes i’m going to fuck your pussy, i’ll continue fucking your mouth till you can’t even speak.”

Sukuna.

He has you sitting on his lap while he’s on his throne. Different mouths coming out of his body, one on his pelvic bone playing with your nub while he bounces you on both of his cocks. Feeling so full of him, you swear you couldn’t even talk, moans and whimpers only coming out of you.

His head was resting in one of his hands, while two of them were gripping your tits with a mouth on them while they sucked your nipples.

“You fucking brat.”

He would sometimes groan everytime your cunt clenched around his cock, or when he felt one of your holes a little bit too tight.

He had you cumming for him for 5 times now, not stopping his movements any time soon, bouncing you up and down on his cocks while he admired your body and face.

Tears staining your blushed cheeks, sweat covering your whole body, purple marks adorning your body and a bite on your shoulder from the first time he came. Your sore and sensitive nipples bouncing in front of him, little begs and pleads coming out of you.

And all because you didn’t want to take your punishment like a good girl and challenged him with your bratty behavior.

You looked fucked up, not any kind of thinking behind your eyes, not even words to say, you were completely defenseless, used like a toy.

“If only you behaved like a good girl I would treat you like one. But right now you’re just my little whore to play with. I can stay here all night watching you lose your sanity and body control to me.”

8K notes · View notes

teeskz · 1 month

Text

¡Arriba! : “Enjoying this dirty night to escape.”

» pairing: fem!reader x OT5 (kim hongjoong, jeong yunho, choi san, song mingi, jung wooyoung)

» summary: being a bookworm, you’re used to your regular schedule of simply studying, eating, oh, and the occasional sleeping. it isn’t until one night, you find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time, and soon get swept up in one of the craziest games you’ve ever heard. in hindsight, maybe you should’ve declined. but it was only supposed to last for one night. one, dirty night.

» w.c: 12.5k (was not aiming for this number, but this what you get)

» genre & warnings: college au, alcohol consumption, heavy kissing, oral (m. & f. receiving), tit sucking, leaving of hickies, praises, corruption, voyeurism SO MUCH, humiliation kink (reader gets embarrassed a lot), teasing, reader c*ms untouched, BUKAKKE (look it up if you don’t know what it means), no intercourse in here but there’s a shit ton of other stuff, spit mention? titty!obsessed yunho, unknown obsession w/ reader, pussydrunk wooyoung, if i were to make a pt. 2, it would be a gang bang, just saying.

» a/n: this is the first edition of my T!TS UP series, hopefully it was worth the wait! (im so so sorry for taking 19 days to upload this, yes i counted how long since i posted that teaser🙏)

» LINK TO T!TS UP SYNOPSIS HERE

» taglist: @mingyuslice @facioleeknow @sharksandminhos @yakosobaboba @xcynthiaaa @hyukssunflower @tiny-apocalypse @pearltinyy @therealcuppicake @kxrta @hrts4hanniehae @softwsan @certifiedmoa @stayskz143 @isabel-018

if your name is crossed off, i still couldn’t find you

| Pt.2 Out Now

Mmmm, no that’s not right either.

The bites on your pencil has increased significantly as you start to chew on the end, never have being so stumped at a problem before.

You’d been rolling through your homework with ease, and even finding somewhat joy at solving these difficult questions. The answers were just flowing right out of you. Until this one.

What if I squared- wait, that doesn’t work for these kinds of theories.

You stare at the paper.

But I’ve reduced the ratio up until here, so how come………….oh!

Instant eagerness returns as you quickly realize what went wrong. And just in the matter of a few seconds, you’re able to work out the rest of the problem and eventually submit your homework.

Sighing happily, you reach your arms up to stretch and straighten out your back. Sitting at the same desk for the past 3 hours, although comfortably, has been draining. Goodness, were you ready for a much needed break.

Fixing your hair, you stand up, your pajama pants falling to the ground and begin scuffling to your communal bathroom.

Sharing with 3 other girls has its difficulties, you won’t deny that, but on Saturday nights like this where all 3 are out -and probably won’t be home till the next morning- you were thankful to get the space all to yourself.

You do your business, wash your hands and right as you step back into your room, a low rumble emits from below. It’s your stomach practically yelling for food.

Oh, that’s another bad habit of yours. Since often you’d find yourself getting so caught up in your workload, more times than not, you wind up forgetting to eat. And also sometimes pee.

Even as you check your nearby clock resting on the night stand, reading 12:49 AM, determination, and maybe the high you still rode from solving that problem, drives you to venture out for food.

So, that’s exactly what you do.

Throwing on some fuzzy slippers, you don’t bother putting on a shirt to cover your tank, believing it’ll take you less than 5 minutes to find a simple vending machine and head back.

Quietly, you open your door and peer down both ends of the corridor. Both are equal distance from a couple of machines close by, so just choosing whatever, you make a left and patter down the hall.

As you’re walking, you can’t help but notice a sort of stillness in the air, one that you can’t quite pinpoint. Like everyone’s disappeared and you’re the only one left.

You finally reach the end and walk into the common area, where on most days are packed, but for tonight is eerily quiet. The vending machine glows off into the corner and your tummy croaks in gratefulness.

Hmm, what am I in the mood for? Ambling over, you stop in front of it and ponder. I could get something simple like the cookie package. Or maybe the baked chips, I think those are good.

So many options, you’re getting overwhelmed. As you continue scanning through your options, you unexpectedly get filled with the sounds of footsteps shuffling across the hard floor, and soon a boy comes into view from the far side of the room.

“Always have to do everything myself.” He’s grumbling to himself, eyes pointed downwards as he scratches the back of his head.

Your eyes are wide as you just stare at him walking closer and closer to you, till eventually the boy glances up and you two lock eyes. And it’s then you recognize him.

“Kim Hongjoong?” Your voice raises at the end as you’re genuinely surprised at his presence. He’s a senior in one of your classes, Ethics, and wow, is it shocking to see him here.

From what you know, he doesn’t live in this housing unit nor have you ever seen him around. So, what’s he doing here? His own face contorts with shock while his legs slow to a halt, tilting his head to the side.

“Y/N, what a surprise,” Starting with your head, his gaze takes notice to your attire and travels downwards, “You just wake up?”

You follow his eyes and try to suppress the sheer amount of embarrassment rising inside of you, “Oh- um, no…”

“Needed a late night snack?” He tries again, a small corner tugging up at his lips.

You lift your head and couldn’t help the sheepish grin spreading wide, “Mmm.”

Hongjoong lets out a short laugh, “Understandable. My friends were craving those powdered donuts and cookies, and tasked me with getting them.”

“Ooh!” You turn towards the snack display and regard the white packaging, “I could get the donuts.”

He watches your expression change from quizzical to astonishment, and his eyebrows scrunch. As if you’re a puzzle and he’s having difficulty figuring you out.

He murmurs before shifting just a slight bit closer to you, “What’re you doing up anyways? I didn’t peg you as the night owl type.”

The smile you bore remains on your face, moving your head back to the boy, “When I got done with my homework, my stomach was growling.”

“Growling.” He repeats, an amused tone to his sentence.

“Growling.” You emphasize again and he could only offer a nod.

He waits a beat before going to speak, “It’s Saturday, though.”

Looking back at him, you meekly shrug, not really seeing what that had to do anything, then rotate again to the vending machine, “Yeah, perfect time to get it done. None of my roommates are home so it’s easier to concentrate.”

Hongjoong hums at your words, “All by yourself, then? Isn’t it lonely?”

“Well,” When phrasing it like that, you find it does put a minor dip in your mood, “I’m always too caught up in my assignments to really notice.”

Instead of immediately responding to you, he allows your words to hang in the air. You think you might’ve just said something out of the ordinary, glancing back to Hongjoong in an attempt to reexplain, when you notice him staring at your backside.

Then, without warning, you feel a pinch at the fabric of your waistband. A soft gasp escapes your lips as warm fingers pull at your pants and tug them upwards, “Y/N, your pajama’s are so cute. You can’t have them lopsided like that.”

You’re a deer in headlights while he goes to meet your eyes. As his gaze lingers on you, you find it more than difficult to reciprocate the action. Your cheeks feel hot, and the stutter that quickly comes when going to answer further shows your awkwardness, “O-Oh, um…”

The spot still burns from where he had touched you and it makes you lose your train of thought. It isn’t until your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a distraction, and catch glimpse of the powdered donuts in the machine, “What-what about your friends? They’re waiting for you still, right? You should be con-considerate of them, and bring them back their snacks.”

Hongjoong takes in your new demeanor, with him watching your body language, and god, are you something else. How swiftly you go from advocating for yourself, excitement radiating from you, to a stumbling mess of words; it actually fascinates him.

“Right,” he follows in your footsteps and puts attention back to the donuts, the fond smile on his lips evermore growing, “They did want me back quick.”

“Yes, yes.” You affirm in a more stern manner, hoping this copes with your unsure state.

“I’ll just tell them I got distracted by something cute.” He caps off his statement with a glance over at you and you look back at him, a stunned expression present.

He does a once over at your outfit, “Your pants.”

You now understand what he means and respond by shaking your head ‘yes’. Because of course he was referring to your pants.

This time, an audible laugh emits from the boy. He has to throw a hand over his face to stop himself from showing too much of his teeth. Fuck, he is finding so much entertainment from this.

You don’t fully comprehend what’s happening, or why Hongjoong’s outwardly making claims such as this. In all honesty, this is probably the most interaction you’ve had with him in all four months of knowing the Senior, and you’ve come to realize: he’s pretty odd.

“I should-” You start right as Hongjoong goes to speak.

“You should come back to my friend’s dorm with me. It’ll be fun with you there.”

And further embarrass yourself? Absolutely, not.

“I can’t- I shouldn’t,” you bring your hands to fumble around with the hem of your tank and deliberately avoid eye contact with him, “It’s late and I was planning on heading to um..bed soon….so it- I shouldn’t.”

When you finally drag your eyes up to Hongjoong, the friendly expression he wears somehow puts you at an instant ease, “Just stop by. And then if you wanna leave, I’ll walk you back to your dorm. That sound okay?”

The way he spoke, so nonchalant and so caring, honestly made you feel stupid. Like you have no reason to feel insecure.

But this was all new for you. You don’t hang out with friends, you don’t go out on Saturday nights, that’s not you. And you don’t have a problem with it. At least, you hadn’t before.

Then, here comes this boy, who extends an invite to you. He’s giving you a chance to venture outside of your safety room. He sees you. So, albeit hesitantly, you make an internal decision to join him. Plus, you knew well you weren’t actually going to sleep.

“That..that actually sounds nice.” You agree, and Hongjoong grins.

As he goes to answer you, he’s reaching into his back pocket in search of the crumpled bills he later pulls out, “Let me get the guys their snacks, then we can head over there.”

You step back and allow him to cut in front of you. He shoves the money into the slot, enough to get multiple things of junk, and you watch as he requests 2 packages of the donuts and a package of cookies.

Once they all drop to the bottom, Hongjoong bends down to the retrieve the snacks.

“Oh, you got two-?” Him shoving one of the donuts in your hand cause you to pause.

“Here, since it’s my fault you’re craving them now.” He states and you take the snack with gratefulness. You thank him graciously and he simply rejects it, claiming it really was no big deal, then starts to make strides back to the dormitory and you follow behind.

The two of you twists around a corridor and walk down what seems like a never-ending hallway.

“You’re too kind, Hongjoong. Inviting me out, buying me stuff.” You quietly gush behind your senior while he holds in a chuckle. You’re too cute.

“Really, I don’t mind one bit.” He slows down once he’s in front of a room and so do you, assuming that his friend’s dorm is the one with the white board that has ‘WE’RE NOT BEING LOUD, YOU’RE JUST QUIET.’ written in big, bolded letters on the door.

The sounds of faint bickering could be heard from the other side so slowly, you peer towards Hongjoong, "Is everything okay?"

He's harboring a somber gaze then lets out a slow, controlled sigh, "Knowing them, probably not."

With that being said, he grabs hold of the handle before throwing the door in, announcing your guys' entrance.

The sight you're met with is unruly, though quickly you take notice of how familiar you are with every single person in the room.

There sat in nearby chairs are Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi, both from your History class, cackling at the scene unfolding right before their eyes of Choi San and Jung Wooyoung slapping and throwing hits at one another.

Choi San is an English major just like you, and you've known Jung Wooyoung since high school. But, wow, you hadn't realized they all new each other.

"You gonna talk about me again?" Choi San threatens the junior whom he's currently hurting, applying pressure to the nape of his neck.

"Aish, aish!" Jung Wooyoung winces at the pain though a crooked smile is present on his face, "What're you, a fucking barbarian? Get off."

"What the fuck are you two doing?" Hongjoong rushes over to deescalate the situation. He shoves Choi San into a corner and rolls Jung Wooyoung the other way, "I wasn't even gone for that long and already you guys try to kill each other."

At that statement, another uproar ensues. All of the boys shouting at him, yelling claims of "You took fucking forever!" "The hell?!" And other variations.

You raise your shoulders and tuck yourself inwards at the commotion yet, part of you seemingly enjoying the racket. A soft giggle flows out of you, which in turn makes your presence known.

“Y/N?” Jung Wooyoung questions first.

All pairs of eyes briskly dart to you, some bearing perplexed expressions, others with stunned looks as there you stood, pajama’s and all, in the middle of Jung Wooyoung’s dormitory.

“Why’re you here?” Choi San adds and right as you go to respond to them, Hongjoong’s quick to answer for you, retracting his hands off of the boys and pushing himself up.

“We met at the vending machines, and I invited her back.” He’s sauntering over to you now, an all-knowing smirk in place. He leans down just a smidge when he’s inches away from your face and lowly speaks, “Want me to tell them about the distraction?”

You instantly hip at that, whatever calm manner you had dissipating by the second. It wasn’t subtle either as everyone eyes you and Hongjoong’s encounter.

“She didn’t have anything else to do, and was more than happy to come here.” He continues while his gaze stays on your face.

“I…” You open your mouth as if you have something to follow up with, but then instantly close it and opt to let Hongjoong’s reply suffice. For the most part, that is pretty much what happened.

After the wave of confusion from the boys, comes a round of cheers. They’re all welcoming you in as Hongjoong walks you over to the group, and you’ve never felt more comfortable yet red-faced in your life.

You plop down on the floor between Mingi and Yunho, both of them inches above you in rolling chairs, and enjoy the swellness of want being produced from everyone, they want you here.

“Did you just wake up?” Wooyoung asks as he scoots his way back over to the rest of the group, and you shake your head ‘no’.

“She’s been up all night doing homework.” Hongjoong smiles from the far corner and the response brings in a collection of oh’s.

“You’re so smart,” San coos while sprawling himself out on the floor, him now laying on his side and propping his head up with a hand, “Wanna help me out with my shit?”

Before you could speak up, a package of cookies get thrown at his back, a burst of laughter filling the air. San yelps from the impact and the culprit, Hongjoong, wades his way closer to everyone.

“Don’t go dragging Y/N into your bullshit, do it yourself.” The Senior throws the other package of donuts to Yunho, who catches it effortlessly, then takes a seat right behind San on the floor.

Instead of arguing, San simply huffs and goes to grab at and eat the cookies while the rest of the group moves forward in conversation.

“So, what’ve you guys been up to tonight?” You gaze around the room, asking your first set of questions, only to get unexplainable looks in return from the bunch. They all stop making eye contact with you and glance at one another with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

There’s a beat of silence when a nudge from a foot draws your attention to Mingi, who’s at first biting his lip but then releases it with narrow eyes, “You a snitch?”

“A…snitch?” You parrot, staring up into his face then softly shake your head no. The boys couldn’t get enough of your reactions.

Yunho’s mouth goes thin as he forces himself to look away from you right as Wooyoung watches you attentively. Just like to Hongjoong, you were an interesting thing to them, someone that intrigued them like no other.

And wouldn’t that make for an interesting night?

“Alright then,” Mingi concludes and San sits up, extending a hand underneath the bed. Before you could ask for a further explanation, a near-full bottle of alcohol gets pulled out then tossed to the middle of the mini circle you all have formed.

You regard the bottle with shock. Any form of alcohol is strictly prohibited on campus, and here in front of you lies tangible proof of it.

“Who put it underneath the bed?” Hongjoong inqueries while going in to reach for the drink. He’s eyeing San while unscrewing the cap, as San stares daggers at Mingi.

“Dumbass over here kicked it underneath there.”

“Yeah, fucking big foot.” Wooyoung interjects earning him and threatening look from Mingi.

“Ah,” Hongjoong, after getting the bottle opened, takes a big swig of the liquid, downing it with ease, “Was wondering where it went when Y/N and I came in here.”

A part of your heart raced at the actions unfolding. He passes the bottle off to Wooyoung, only after teasing him for it, then you listen as everyone scolds Wooyoung for being a hog. Out the corner of his eye, however, Yunho notices you fidget.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Yunho shifts to amorously watch you, drawn into your well-known rule follower persona, “You’ve never seen alcohol before?”

You feel all eyes turn to you as they await an answer. Of course you’ve seen alcohol before, knew what it is. Does he think you live under a rock? But still, the sight of it leaves a twinge bit of nervousness in the pit of your stomach.

“I have, actually.” Scatteredly, you bounce between looking at the boys while trying to sound steady, “I know my roommates like that a lot.”

“Yeah?” Wooyoung beams then leans in to place the bottle in the space between your legs, “Feeling like trying some now?”

You look down at it with uncertainty. You know this is wrong, this is so, completely, wrong, “Uh….”

“Don’t be scared.” San encourages, a tiny smirk taking over, and soon a ripple of motivation circulates throughout the room. The guys are all murmuring small praises, yet keeping watchful eyes on you, testing you.

One of your hands lifts to grab hold of the bottle’s neck, the other holding the bottom for support. You scan over the glass warily then hesitantly glance up to the others, “Do I just…”

You mock an action of drinking it which earns you a laugh from Hongjoong, “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Come on,” Mingi rests a palm on the back of your head, stroking you smoothly. The movement is so comforting that you don’t even realize him taking strands of your hair to wrap around his fingers, then ever so slowly he tilts your head backwards.

Instinctively, you raise your arms to guide the alcohol closer to you, and without another moment to think about it, you pour a stream of the lukewarm liquid down your throat.

“That’s it, just like that.” Yunho mutters sweetly as you continue spilling it down your throat, not really knowing when to stop.

Quickly, the burning catches up to you and reactively, you stop pouring the bitter alcohol and shoot your head forward, grimacing from the taste. Although it’d felt like you just inhaled a gallon of hand sanitizer, the congratulatory spurs, courtesy of the guys, makes up for it. They were proud of you, and it made you feel good.

San holds out his hand to you, indicating he wanted to be next, “Took it like a champ, Y/N. Good job.”

You lend the bottle to him and almost instantly, you swiftly make note of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Eyes big, a thump of reality hits you and deeply, you take in a breath while returning to your spot. Woah.

The passing of the bottle lasted for about the next 30 minutes, everyone taking turns in drinking. When it’d be close to your turn, you’d find yourself anticipating the action. Then when it came your time, all over again, you down the drink, make the most disgusted face, then hand it off to Mingi. And some time during it all, you had demolished those donuts Hongjoong supplied you with.

It’s exhilarating, the situation you’re in. It’s thrilling how you’re being commended for doing something defying. And you come to realize: maybe you actually needed a night like this.

“So, uh,” you start with a faint smile on your face, “Is this all you guys do? Drink and sit in a circle?”

Wooyoung has now made his way over to your lap, resting his head on top of your soft thigh, “Mmhmm. Sometimes, we’ll talk about other people too.”

“Oh, fun.” You smile but your attention gets captured by Mingi waving a hand out.

He’s attempting to get Wooyoung’s notice despite his lack of verbiage, “Yah, yah, what-uh…what was that game you had? That one you said we didn’t have enough players for?”

Wooyoung fails to move, instead choosing to keep his eyes shut and body close to you, “Who’s he talking to?”

A kick from Yunho sends him flying at that response, rolling off of you and makes him land on his back. You laugh amusingly as Wooyoung stumbles around to stand up.

“Okay, fine!” He whines, wavering around slightly while heading to his closet, “You guys have a fucking problem.”

Hongjoong’s laying with his back to the floor, chest up to the ceiling and yields his head to face you, “He’s always trying to get us to play this stupid game.”

“But we’ve never had enough players.” Yunho buzzes, moving from his spot in the chair to the open ground next to you.

“Not until our Y/N decided to join.” San’s tracing the exposed part of your ankle from your pants riling up, and you offer a content ‘mmm’.

“Got it.” Wooyoung uses a palm to shut the closet door, then comes back to the group with a small, red box in hand.

“What game is it?” You inquiry, bringing your head closer to the box when Wooyoung takes a spot in the middle of Hongjoong and Yunho.

Hongjoong peers over to him and begins reading off of the label, “Tits….Up.”

“The hell is this?” Mingi has the bottle currently and is resting his arms against his thighs, gripping the bottle in one hand. If you wanted to lean back, you’d touch his leg, that’s how close he is to you.

“It’s- It’s a drinking game,” Wooyoung studies the back of the box, and you happen to catch glimpse of a seductive pattern printed out on the packaging. The kissy lips are cute, you think as you aimlessly regard the box.

“So,” Yunho extends his arm out to cross in front you, the alcohol now being given to him, “How’d we play again?”

Wooyoung finally opens up the game, grabbing hold of the cards to shuffle them then instantly start to sort them out. All of the red-colored cards get grouped together, the pink-colored ones in a separate pile, then lastly the black cards lay flatly in the middle of it all.

“From what I remember, we all roll a die that tells us which color card to pick up.” He tries to grab the die out of the box but it ends up slipping out of his grip and flings towards your foot, “Whoops.”

“Ooh.” You pick it up and begin to browse, seeing the red’s and pink’s and black’s filling up different side’s of the die while the other squares have 2 ‘roll again’ and a ‘skip turn’ as the remaining options.

“Red is dare, pink is truth, and black means it’s a challenge.” Wooyoung finishes, which you could tell by him throwing down the instructions to the side of him.

“It’s just truth or dare, then?” You’re confused. If it is just truth or dare, then what’s the whole point of having this?

He shakes his head at your comment, a light laugh trickling out, “Just truth or dare? Yeah, on like steroids.”

Hongjoong retrieves the previously discarded manual and brings it to his face, “Don’t do the dares: drink, don’t do the truths: drink, don’t do the challenges: drink, drink, and drink.”

“There’s a number of shots listed at the bottom of every card, so if you choose to not do what’s on one of them then that’s the equivalent to it. That make sense?” Wooyoung explains and collectively, there’s murmurs of agreement.

“How do you win?” You perk up with a new sense of curiosity.

“Gotta have the most cards collected.” He shoots back and Hongjoong quietly confirms him.

“You only get the card if you complete what’s on it.”

“In other words, don’t be a pussy.” San teases.

Alright, you can do this. Your first drinking game, ever. Excitment’s buzzing all around you as Yunho bends down to pick up the die. So exciting.

“I’ll go first.” He says then goes to shake the cube in a closed fist. He releases the roll and all together, you watch the die travel down and around Wooyoung’s carpet, only stopping when it hits the edge of the box.

“Hmm, truth.” Hongjoong states as the rose-colored square is clearly shown upright.

Yunho reaches in to swipe one of the pink cards, turning it over, then reading aloud, “No secrets allowed, share one of your biggest turn-ons.”

Your eyebrows raise as the rest of the group hoots in await for his reply. Biggest turn on? Like…

“How many shots if you don’t answer?” Mingi asks, nodding his head in the direction of Yunho.

Yunho scans through the card till he’s at the bottom of it, “Uh, it only says one.” He says and goes to pocket the card, “That’s a fucking waste.”

You’re staring at him in awe, the suspense creeping up the walls of your stomach. What’s he gonna say? How much is he willing to expose? If you get a card like that, how much are you willing to expose?

He looks around the room while his thoughts churn, “My biggest turn on? I don’t…I guess I’ll….damn, there’s too many!”

“Just choose one.” Mingi sighs gruffly, and it’s then you decide to rest your back against his leg. It’s been brushing against your skin for some time now so, you know, maybe you need the extra support.

“Fine, just one?” Yunho catches his lip with a tooth, taking in the scenery when his eyes land on you. The eye contact doesn’t lasts too long, with him dropping his sight down briefly, too briefly for you to even wonder what he’s thinking, then he opens his mouth, “I like seeing stiff nipples through a shirt, the big, puffy ones especially. It’s so damn hot to me.”

Hongjoong immediately covers his mouth to control a snicker, San practically doing the same. Wooyoung holds in a smile and you’re left to speculate that maybe there’s something more to Yunho’s answer. And now, you’re feeling self-conscious.

“Leave Y/N alone, Yunho. You’re being a dick.” The voice behind you, Mingi, chastises.

At the mention of your name, you slowly glance down towards your chest and the embarrassment you had previously hits you like wave. You had absolutely no idea your nipples were erected, essentially sticking out miles from your tank top. They’re hard, and stiff, just like how he described them.

“Alright, fine,” Yunho throws an apologetic look your way, “But still, I’m serious. That kind of stuff turns me on.”

You want to cover yourself up, hide your chest away. You were basically flashing the boys unknowingly and yet, why does your heart start to beat irregularly? A sliver of you starts to feel shame. Is it wrong you seemingly like the attention? Enjoy the thought of knowing it was you who turned him on?

And in turn, maybe that makes you a little excited, but, a different kind. The kind you only feel when it’s late at night, your roommates are out, and have nothing but your fingers to keep you entertained.

“Should we pass it off to Y/N?” Someone questions which break you out of your state.

No way, at least not yet, “Actual- Actually, can I go last?”

The group regards you first, then pass the look off to Wooyoung who, if that’s the case, would be going next. He simply shrugs then snatches up the dice, going to roll.

In the midst of his turn, a hand is placed onto your leg, scaring you just a bit but also sending a jolt through your core, “Are you nervous now?”

San speaks quietly to you, and you look back behind your shoulder at him, “Just wanted to watch some more before I go.”

He shakes his head understandingly, but doesn’t immediately let go. It’s not until, Wooyoung announces getting ‘truth’ in which he remembers his placement on your leg. Though, he didn’t make much effort to remove himself fast.

Wooyoung’s already reading his card when you decide to hone back into the game, and you try to ignore the small build emitting inside of you. Or, is it just the alcohol? Yeah, probably just that.

“Get a good look at everyone,” He starts, “Let us know, who’s looking the most fuckable? And this one’s 2 shots if I don’t answer.”

A low ‘ooh’ rumbles in the crowd, including one from yourself. Wooyoung holds the card out to his chin, striking a ‘thinking’ pose while he examines everyone, “So hard.”

You sense your chest heaving up and down, anticipation flooding you. Wooyoung darts his eyes to one side of the room, then dramatically to other, but eventually an answer is made.

“Sannie’s been working out a lot more lately,” A sly grin spreads on Wooyoung’s face, eyeing the junior who’s currently fake flexing, and then they roll over to you, “But I think little Y/N has to be my pick. You’re just looking too good right now. So, fuckable was it?”

You ‘eep’, and before you could think, you’re throwing a hand over your face to cover the immense blush you wear. Where do these guys get off on embarrassing you like this?

He lets out a menacing laugh, knowing you’d react as such. Sometimes, he just couldn’t help himself when it came to messing with you. You just make it too easy for him.

“Wow, how’s it feel being the center of attention, Y/N?” Hongjoong smiles, taking the dice from Wooyoung’s possession and you could only offer a head shake as your reply.

San follows up next, watching you with such a fondness, “I don’t know, guys, I’m thinking she’s starting to like this.”

You drop your hands, now ready to face the group, and the intensity of your jolt worsens. It’s almost starting to feel, to feel like a throb. And instead of it residing in just your core, you could recognize it radiating to other places.

“Hongjoong, just go.” You sigh out, borderline disgusted with yourself at the new realization that you’re genuinely enjoying this. That you are getting incredibly turned on by the humiliation.

He does as you say, rolling the dice and retrieving a card after earning the first ‘dare’, but instead of reading it out loud to the rest of the group, Hongjoong looks it over in his head. His face is changing from confusion, to perplexity, then ultimately, revolution.

Placing the card back in the middle of the pile, he requests for the bottle which San hands, then takes his first shot. The rest of you guys are surprised by this decision, some of you going in to hound Hongjoong about what card he grabbed.

“Not gonna tell.” Is all he says before taking a whopping 4 swigs of alcohol back to back and shuddering every single time.

“Holy shit!” Wooyoung cackles out, amused by the older student’s willingness to not compete.

“It was worth 5 shots?” Yunho’s voice cracks and you’re left stunned. Just what was on that card?

Hongjoong tosses the die over to San, the next person to go, while he tries his best to ignore the way everyone’s watching him. No matter the looks, no matter the gazes, there’s no way in hell he’d ever reveal what was on it.

San rolls out the cube and it lands on ‘truth’. He reaches down and picks up the pink card, and unlike the senior, does read it aloud everyone, “What’s the dirtiest thing you masturbated to?”

While San lets out a disgruntled huff, Wooyoung brightens up right away, shooting an arm into the air and beaming, “Oh! Oh! I can answer this, please, let me tell them how fucking weird you are.”

“I’ll kill you,” San lowers his head, rather intimidatingly, and extends an arm out for the bottle, “It’s only 2 shots, I’ll just take that.”

Hongjoong proceeds to give him the alcohol, and San downs his shots like it was nothing. After him, is Mingi, who’s been decently far away from all of the action.

“Awww, Mingi, come down here with the rest of us. You look like a loner.” Wooyoung belittles, causing the boy behind to scoff harshly. But even then, he still does it, scooting himself off of the chair and making his way down to the ground.

You get booted off from his leg as he’s moving, though, once he has his position in front of the chair and propping himself up against that, he signals you to rest again on him, this time allowing you to lean back on his chest. He widens out his legs to get you comfortable, and now, you recline into him.

The action was so nonchalant, hardly any thought behind it, that no one even gave you two crap for it. However, they all stare enviously at the boy, “Someone give me the die.”

San fulfills his wish and does so, Mingi immediately going straight into throwing it down. The die rolls around till it lands on a red square, signaling the need for a ‘dare’. He doubles over to reach for a card, taking you down with him, and selects one of the ones at top before returning back.

He’s secretive of his card, pulling the same stunt Hongjoong did. Curiously, however, you peer over towards him. And so Mingi, all the while not taking his eyes off of the card, crosses his unoccupied arm in front of you and grabs hold of your cheek, forcibly turning you to the other side.

He mutter-reads the card softly to himself as you find humor in the way he had dealt with you, your cheek smushing against your mouth. After a period, he drops the card and extends an arm out to San, signaling him to pass the alcohol over.

“What the- you guys are pussies.” Yunho chides while Wooyoung shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Oh, booo. Y/N, do you know what this means?” He asks you, Mingi lowering his other arm so you could crane your neck back to Wooyoung.

The anxiety bubbling inside renders you clueless at the thought of knowing you’re next up, and so you stare blankly at him, “What does it mean?”

“Unless you want everything to go tits up, you need to do what’s on the cards. No matter what it says.” He finishes off his statement with a shrug, and Yunho nods encouragingly.

You feel a drop in your palm as Mingi hands you over the die, nervousness flowing through you, “I- okay.”

Your heart is pounding against your rib cage when you start to shake your enclosed hand, a mix between sweat and fear coating the cube. You release it shortly after and watch it roll around in front of you.

Eventually, the velocity of it slows and the wild spinning stops, leaving a scarlett-red square staring back at you. A ‘dare’.

“Oh, our first dare.” There’s a bite to Wooyoung’s tone, proving obvious that he's choosing to ignore the past few rounds.

San leans forward for you and grabs a card, handing it off to you, "You can do this."

You don’t even look at it immediately and instead wait until you were back against Mingi before reading it aloud to the others.

“Did someone turn up the temperatures?" you start off steadily, "Suddenly, you’re feeling hot. Have the others player choose which piece of clothing to remove, hope this helps your problem…”

Keeping your eyes locked on the words. You trail off towards the end, not finding the courage to look up knowing they're all watching you. Undressing you in their heads.

“We get to choose?” Yunho happily accepts this feat as does everyone else. They make your already rapid heart accelerate, but what’s even worse is how the stupid throb below intensifies.

Hongjoong, ever so leisurely, grabs hold of the open flap from your pajama bottoms and wiggles the fabric around, "I say we get rid of these."

San perks up excitedly at the proclamations, “I second. Y/N, you don’t need those on anymore.”

This is so wrong. So, incredibly wrong.

While you're distracted by those two, you fail to notice Mingi traveling a hand down to the waist band of your pants, lifting it up to hardly reveal the shadow of your underwear line and bare skin, “Can you take ‘em off for us?”

“Let’s go, Y/N-ie. You can’t keep us waiting.” Wooyoung pouts while also tugging at the other pant leg.

The pleads of the group grow, while your determination to not do it shrinks. God, are they making this difficult for you.

After a few more begs, and a few more touches, you break and decidedly give in, “F-Fine, I'll get these off.”

Mingi breaths out, the hand that was on your waist band slipping below to touch your smooth, outer leg. He teases the others by showing them bits and pieces of your skin, not fully pulling your pants down till Yunho comes to the other side in helps of tugging them off of you.

Collectively, they all aid in discarding your bottoms and once they’re gone, you try to suppress the urge to cover yourself. There, in full display for everyone to see, are your tight, pale yellow panties that’re always your favorite to wear to bed.

But when you’re damn-near half naked in front of a group of boys, you’re mentally scolding yourself for not wearing something more attractive; like how one of your roommates owns a lacy, black thong that you’ve seen one too many times before.

Hongjoong brings a light graze to your now exposed legs, tracing around your skin, “You’re so cute when you listen to us.”

"Look, there's even little flowers." San pokes fun at you, even going as far as pinching your underwear in a teasing manner.

“Can- Can we move on?” You’re letting out small huffs while Mingi brings a hand down to rub at your thigh.

"Aww, alright, alright. Guys, let's ease up on her." Yunho reaches over your legs to retrieve the lonely die from the ground.

The rest of the boys oblige, them returning to their spots with slick smiles on their face. Sure, they'll play the game, but just know, they're in it for the long haul.

And it’s going to get way worse than this.

Yunho gives his fist a hardy shake before releasing it to the ground. The die quickly spins before falling still and revealing a ‘skip turn’ square for all the group to see. He lets out a ‘damn’, then moves onto Wooyoung, who’s taking the cube willingly.

“It’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it.” He darts his tongue out to the side while bringing two hands to cover up the die, jiggling all around till he drops it.

It lands on red, ‘dare’, and eagerly, Wooyoung snags one of the cards from the top of the scarlett pile, “Demonstrate your oral skills on a banana or peach,” he reads with an amusement to his tone, “Or if you have the real the real thing, that’s double points.”

Your eyes close as you take a deep inhale, dreading the next words to be spoken from his lips.

"Banana or peach...." He fake ponders, stroking his chin while staring up at the ceiling, "Hmm, I guess if I have to, I'll go with the peach."

"But we don't have any on us." San makes point in which Wooyoung feigns stupidity.

"Oh, you're right Sannie. Well, then what am I supposed to do?"

Almost defeated, your eyes widen after feeling a hand cupping your ankle. Wooyoung's giving you an expression, a mix between cunning and slyness, "Y/N-ie, what do you think?"

You gape back at him, "What I- I don't think anything."

"Well, don't we have the real thing?" He quips, inching closer, and you have to physically bite you inner lip to stop a whine from coming out.

Just the thought of what he was insinuating, it's just so.....dirty that you couldn't help the way you were feeling. And you aren't sure how much more you could take.

"I...I guess technically - we do-"

"Yah, Hongjoong, what's the rule about challenges and dares that involve other players?" Wooyoung calls back and the senior's fast to respond.

"If another player's required to participate due to a card but refuses, they must be the ones to take the drink instead." He reads off of the manual so swiftly you'd almost think he has it memorized.

"Would poor Y/N rather drink than let Wooyoung show off his skills?" Yunho mocks, causing, and for the first time this evening, a tiny, nearly inaudible whimper to buzz from you.

The noise leaves the rest of the group stunned.

Wooyoung regards you and just so leisurely does he fall in between your legs, now face to face with your clothed cunt, "You'd really rather drink? I promise, I won't be too long."

"Don't leave him hanging." San nudges and the rest of the group follow in the protests.

"But I..." you quiet down, "In front of everyone?"

Hongjoong leans back on his hands, intently watching, "We don't mind."

"Just, relax." Mingi guides you to rest again on his chest, providing slack for Wooyoung to draw your hips closer. You could feel his hot breath in huffs and it's driving you mad.

"Can I? Please?" He finishes off and it's then you give him a slight nod.

"Oh, my-” Yunho groans, and you almost copy him in the way Wooyoung brings a hand up to your underwear and pushes it to side.

"I'll be...quick." He mutters, eyes tracing all around your sex. His tongue darts out then before you could react, he's sliding the wet muscle up the length of your pussy.

You gasp at the feeling. Finally, a source of stimulation for you to enjoy.

He goes in again, lapping at you till he reaches your clit and sucks on it. Waves of pleasure ripple throughout your core with each slurp of your bud. Wooyoung shifts to wrap his hands around your thigh for support as he continues going down on you.

You throw a hand over your mouth to cover the scream that was just about to be let out. And next thing you know, your hips begin circling deep into his mouth while he guzzles away at your sweet pussy.

"Damn, you don't need to fucking eat her." San scoffs, which breaks Wooyoung from the haze he was in. Absentmindedly, he pulls away from your cunt with a satisfied grin, but not before going back in to give you a quick kiss on your lips. Your pussy lips.

The action makes you quiver and if he had carried on, you were sure you would've came all over his face.

"Holy fuck." Yunho breathes out shakily and it's taking all of his strength to not palm himself like a fucking pervert in front of everyone.

Wooyoung scoots back to his original spot while you're left panting on top of Mingi. What the actual hell just happened?

"Let's check the damage." Hongjoong eyes are glazed as he's watching your fucked out expression and hell, if it doesn't turn him on.

A hand gets brought around to your front and grips the peak of your underwear, scrunching it enough to transform it into a line then scoots off to the side. Your glistening, thick cunt is now open and on display for everyone to see.

"Fuck, I'm burning this into head." San whines and subtly, not-so subtly, grabs at the loose area around his pelvis and adjusts his pants.

Mingi's still holding onto your panties as Wooyoung gloats about how good you taste in front of the group, yet your mind's distracted by some sort of growth forming on your lower back.

"Come on, Wooyoung, give me the die so we can keep on playing." Hongjoong's nearly drunk off of his own lust, the way he wants to end up in the same situation as his junior.

If there's one thing he couldn't deny, it's that lately, you have been driving all of these boys crazy.

"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N thinks of my skills," he turns to you with a self-boasting grin, "Was my game good?"

"Oh, Woo." Yunho's rolling his eyes at him. God, the last thing the group needs was Wooyoung's ego being inflated to the max.

"It was..." you take in a huff, quickly recalling the previous events, "it was good."

Wooyoung laughs lightly before going in for a lip bite, "You flatter me. But, hey, if you ever wanted a round 2, I'll get you alone and show you all of my-"

"Dare." Hongjoong interrupts, shutting the chatty boy up. You hadn't even realized he had rolled with you being too occupied in Wooyoung's proclamations.

"Is he gonna pussy out again?" Mingi mutters, mainly to you, causing you to dryly chuckle. Your head is still foggy from the timely pulses below to illicit any stronger of a reaction.

Reaching forward, Hongjoong grabs at a new card, this time actually reading it aloud, “Don’t be shy, choose a player of your choice to give a quick peck too.”

Your eyes lazily scan around the scene as everyone curiously stares at Hongjoong, whom stared back with an ever-lasting gaze. The silence is loud, though his thoughts were flashing across his face, exposing everything he was thinking. And it was evident that what he needs, is the person right in front of him.

“Y/N, come here.” He calls you over with a nod and you protests. Physically, you’re feeling weak, but mentally, goodness are you are completely, utterly fucked.

“I-” Whining, you let your breaths do the talking to try and captivate your fatigueness. How come you were always the brut of the cards? Can’t they give you a break?

The dark look your senior gives is enough to put your whimpering to an end, “Hey, let’s go.”

Mingi pushes you forward as a head start and you catch yourself with your hands, taking in the dark carpet underneath.

“You wanna crawl over to me? Hell, I’ll take that too.” Hongjoong laughs maniacally and you’re left wondering what happened to the boy that had reassured you comfort just hours before. Had he always been this way?

Nonetheless, you still do it. You make your way over to Hongjoong all the while crawling on all 4’s. The guys couldn’t get enough of this. Your submissive state, yet your will to keep going, it was fucking ammo for them. Just fueling their running desires the longer this game continued.

You stop on your knees in front of him, then cautiously you work your way up until you were eye to eye with Hongjoong. He’s watching all over your face, part of him searching for a sign that said you wanted to stop. He knew he would, at the drop of a hat if he saw you were feeling uncomfortable, he would whisk you out of here himself.

But Hongjoong also knows, just like how you know. That secretly, you were into this shit. Little, book-reader Y/N loved being publicly humiliated and shamed for the sole purpose of getting her horny.

Which is why he doesn’t feel bad when he dips down to force your lips on his, the supposed quick peck being thrown out of the window. He’s enveloping himself into you and taking your mouth like he’d been starving for it.

He’s going at you with a level of neediness even he would’ve never expected from himself. Oh, how your lips essentially get swallowed up by his with every kiss, he’d hadn’t pictured he could get this turned on from kissing someone, his pants are so damn tight. And shit, the urge to fucking push you to the ground and make you grind on his thigh is literally clawing at him. He really is trying so damn hard to control himself.

Little noises begin to leave your lips as it fills the soundless room, and by the second you can sense Hongjoong becoming more frazzled, more sporadic in the way he’s dominating you, pushing himself further onto you.

“Are you about to take her right here?” Yunho coughs out, trying to bring attention the fact that there’s 4 other people in the room who have been witnessing this steamy make out.

Hongjoong comes up briefly from you to respond, “Fuck off,” then he’s back onto your mouth, kissing you with so much passion that you don’t even mind about the watchers. Because you knew that despite their complaints and protests, they were enjoying this too, you just knew they were.

“I’m calling it, Y/N get your cute ass back over here,” San grabs hold of your underwear then wastes no time in yanking you back, separating you and Hongjoong mid-kiss. You wobble backwards into your original spot, your lips so wet and pink, it looks like you just got done sucking on a lollipop; as Hongjoong reels himself in from it all. If you two hadn’t been stopped, there’s no tell in what he would’ve done to you.

“You two would’ve down right fucked each other in the middle of the circle,” Wooyoung muses, but not because he was repulsed by this fact, but rather for how sexy it was watching you unravel at the hands of his friend.

San starts to roll next, “I better get lucky like you shits did.” He shakes and releases the die when it lands on a ‘black’ square, the first of all tonight, “Oh, shit.”

“This is gonna be interesting.” Yunho mutters as Mingi’s fingers, after getting yourself restated back in between his legs, dance up the naked skin of your legs, absentmindedly of course, and works his way to the inner parts of your thigh, just gently rubbing at your flesh.

That action causes your eyes to briefly flutter but you try your best to focus on San, who’s reaching in for a ‘challenge’ card. He pulls at the untouched deck then goes to speak aloud.

“Choose an opponent and a player out of the group,” it’s apparent’s he’s reading ahead in his mind, judging by the way the corners of his mouth turn upright, “With a minute on the clock, let’s see who can leave the darkest mark, a hickey, on the player’s neck. Winner get’s card.”

Your heart’s pounding. Oh, god.

“Y/N, can you be my player?” Despite him asking, whining even, a mock of curiosity washing over his features, it was clear that his question is more of a demand.

Mingi laughs heartily while pushing his head against the side of yours, “Yeah, you gonna be his little play thing?”

“Woah, Mingi,” San throws his hands up exasperatedly, “How about you be my opponent, cause I already know I'll destroy your ass.”

The competition that’s ensuing riles up the rest of the group as Mingi swiftly agrees. Next thing you know, you’re being shoved into the middle of the circle, firstly on your knees then sitting crisscrossed as the two boys work their way over you.

With San on your left and Mingi on your right, your having to mentally calm yourself down from all the exposure you’ve endured so far. And how this round might actually be the death of you.

The rest of the group moves around till they sit front row in front of you, ready to watch the throw-down. You take in the boys in front of you.

Yunho, as evidence on his face, feels pleasure in this scenario and he’s so intrigued in how this will go. Wooyoung’s yanking out his phone from his pocket; and right as Hongjoong’s sits across from you, you can see through heavy lids him dropping his gaze down to your uncovered body.

He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s shamelessly watching you, and maybe that’s the reason for why you genuinely start to feel yourself drip liquid.

“I’m putting a minute on the clock,” Wooyoung officiates, scrolling on the phone that’s currently placed on the floor.

Both men beside you start to get into positions, hunching over to become more level with your throat.

“You have such a pretty neck,” San brings a hand to lightly stroke the large area, “Can’t wait to give you my mark.”

“San, you can’t say that.” You mew back, completely in a daze.

“Why not? It’s true.” He’s still running his fingertips along your skin and he could easily swear every touch made you whimper. God, could he listen to you all day.

“Gonna fuck up your neck, Y/N, just you wait.” It’s Mingi’s time to talk you up, him nearly mouthing that sentence onto your open skin, “Gonna leave a hickey so big people’ll think you’re getting it good.”

You briefly go to turn to him, but with Wooyoung announcing the commencement of the challenge, you’re forced back into the middle as they both sit impatiently.

“Start in 3…2….and….1!”

They pounce. Immediately, they stick on your neck like a vacuum, just taking in as much of the area as possible. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you feel their sucking turn into straight buzzes shooting down to core.

It’s indescribable the feeling your experience. Both boys on you like their life is on the line, but it’s so interesting how you notably recognize the difference in how they’re forming the hickey.

San’s lips are more precise, smaller, tiny sucks with occasional licks. Mingi on the other hand, wide, open kisses are his forte. His singular mouth is covering up a vast area that you already knew it would be hard to cover this up.

“Dude, they are so into this.” Yunho comments while Hongjoong tries his best to not actually cream his pants at your expression.

“Look at her face, she looks like she’s gonna cum on herself at any second.” He nottes which causes a series of moans, one of them yours, to fire throughout the crowd.

“20 seconds,” Wooyoung warns, eyes trained onto the scene in front of him.

They go in harder. They’re putting more pressure onto your neck, sucking so hard now that you can’t help the mini whines that escape you. You actually think you’re about to pass out.

The build up of stimulation over the course of this night has left you with an everlasting throb that’s threatening to explode at any time. The more they suck, the heavier your breaths get, and you’re struggling to contain your new expressions.

It’s all starting to become so much, the sensation boys are causing trickles down to your cunt in waves, so intense and pleasurable that even your body starts to stutter.

Wooyoung’s begins to countdown, “10….9…”

There’s cheering in the audience, egging the participants on while you’re still fighting your inner self to not spill out. Mingi and San aren’t slowing, and are holding their pace through and through.

“3…2…annnnd…stop.”

The moment they detach themselves from you, you were already game over, with your orgasm taking over for everyone to see. You’re moaning as it happens, eyes shut and hips bucking forward on nothing.

“No fucking shot.” Wooyoung’s eyebrows are raised as his mouth hangs low.

You’re too consumed in your shakes to even hear the other remarks spewing from everyone else. Oh, you really tried to keep yourself under control. The orgasm isn’t as strong as it could’ve been, like if there had been genuine stimulation on your clit, but god did it feel good to finally let loose.

“You came untouched,” Hongjoong quips, part of him surprised the other so horny it’s making it hard for him to think, “God, Y/N, give us a warning next time, yeah?”

Yunho mewls with closed eyelids, “Guys, if I said I almost nutted from that, would that be weird?”

“Honestly, I think I leaked a little bit,” Shamelessly, Wooyoung lightly shrugs his shoulders while admittingly so, the lower half of his body squirming ever so gently.

“You really are a dirty girl.” San murmurs and trails your body up and down.

“Getting off on just a couple of hickeys? What the hell?” Mingi laughs bitterly, still reeling in from seeing you literally cum on yourself.

“We have to…we need to see the results, right?” Your face is beat. You think you’ve passed the road of embarrassment 2 stops ago, and now you’re heading straight for a ditch. A ditch full of nothing but straight satisfaction and contentment.

“Oh, right,” Hongjoong leans in closer to inspect both areas, “Mm, looks like San’s is darker.”

As San celebrates his declared victory, Mingi contorts into displeasure, his nose scrunching, “What?”

He wastes no time in grabbing hold of your chin and pulling it to their other side. He looks over this space, then push your head left to review his own.

“Yours looks like someone tried to draw a fucking lake with a dried up red marker.” Yunho criticizes which leaves the boy offended.

Instantly, Mingi’s ready to protest, “I want a rematch.”

Hongjoong waves a hand to dismiss that requests, “No, no, we’re not gonna redo the whole thing just cau-” But Mingi’s back onto your neck, this time going in on the middle of your throat, sucking with a much greater force that it basically makes you weak.

“Woah! Woah! Woah!”

Arms fly towards you as the rest of the boys work to separate the two of you, Mingi, almost comedically, looking genuinely confused as to why he's being split from you.

Wooyoung grabs the unoccupied die and shoves it into the palm of Mingi, “Roll this and go back to your spot.”

You watch Mingi be offended, him making a distasteful look, “Who do you think you are?” He grumbles yet does exactly that, taking you with him while he reverts back to your original places.

With you being dragged against the carpet, the after effects of your orgasm leaves you quaking at even the slightest touch, the remnants of the past actions driving your pulsing cunt.

Before you know it, you’re being repositioned in between Mingi’s legs as he begrudgingly rolls the die, throwing it down with such an aggression. It rolls and rolls till eventually it lands on a ‘skip turn’, and with soft conversations flowing around he hands you the die.

Now, you’re feeling completely, and utterly fucked out. So much so that you put zero effort into shaking the cube then tossing it to the ground, never having had such a vitalizing night before.

It rotates on its axis before slowing down to a red square. You aren’t sure how much more you can handle, trying to suppress a groan. Immediately, you reach forward for the ‘dare’ card, then begin to read it aloud.

“Everyone deserves a sweet treat, the person to your right especially,” Warily, you peer over towards Yunho, who’s ever more intrigued in the card, “Have them find something tasty and lick it off of any part you. Player’s choice.”

“My choice?” His throat nearly dries at the thought. He could choose anywhere. Any place on your body.

“What’re you gonna lick off of her?” San asks, his own curious heart gradually racing by the second. Everyone’s thinking the same thing, the direction this is heading.

Hongjoong lolls his head to his side, “Yah, how about those donuts?”

Oh, right, the ones from earlier. You had eaten yours clean before this, but as you glance back to Yunho, you see him pulling out the package, unopened.

"Feels like I'm craving some right about now." He mutters and regards the donuts before doing a glance over to you. He's analyzing every inch of you, determining what he wants.

You feel his fiery stare but when a small smile appears on his face, that's when you ask, "What're you thinking?"

He lowers his head, almost mockingly, and without missing a beat, he sighs, "Pull down that tank top for us, okay?"

You were too fatigued to even argue, sluggishly raising your arms to yank the thin fabric down only slightly. It's then Mingi who grabs roughly at the rest of your tank and slides the material down till it hits your midline.

Your tits are out; fat, puffy nippy erected just the way Yunho likes them, and everyone is instantly drawn to your breasts.

"They're even better than what I was imagining," someone mumbles, you aren't sure who because what you're focusing on, is the way Yunho looks about ready to jump you.

"Face more towards me."

You follow his instruction, well, more like you allow yourself to be turned by Mingi towards Yunho, but either way, Yunho's satisfied. He makes his short distance to you, stopping only when he's mere centimeters in front, sort of mimicking Wooyoung's earlier position.

"Then....I'll get these opened," Even though he's talking mainly to himself, you still follow every one of his movements, from him ripping wide the package to him taking out a donut and sprinkling the powdered sugar onto your skin.

He covers both breasts in the sweetness, dusting a generous amount all around till you're a powdery white, ready to get licked raw.

"Does it have to be just licking?" Yunho ponders, and for the record, it wasn't a you question, he was asking his friends.

"Nah, I think whatever is necessary should be good." San answers which leaves Yunho in gratification. He knows exactly what he wants, and it's to absolutely devour you.

So, that's what he does.

Quickly, he throws down the remaining donuts before latching onto your tits, taking in your flesh whole and it seems at first, he's disregarding the whole point of this dare.

Instead of focusing on the powdered sugar, he's going straight for your nipple, lapping and licking at the bud then switching over to the next.

He's cupping your breasts with his hands, and as he's suctioning onto you, his hands work mindlessly to fondle your skin, juggling the two sacks.

It's a feeling you've never felt before. You want to wince out in pain but could you even consider this as such? The way he's going in on you, the swift jolts of pain, if you could even call it that, soon transfer into that feel-good sensation you're all too accustomed with.

You're breathing falls in synch with his action, and rely on Mingi's chest as support for when you rest back on him, one of your hands throwing itself up into his hair to help with your wriggling.

With each movement from his tongue it's like another added layer for your pleasure to hold on to, your thighs squeezing around Yunho to alleviate the build up in your core, and by goodness, did you love it.

Yunho finally ends off the dare with what it should have been, him licking up the remaining sweetness on your tits with an overly loud slurp. And then he pops himself off of you with large grin, a coat of wetness evident around his mouth, "I am so doing that again."

"Can I be next?" Mingi murmurs, going in to play with your sticky tits, while you drop your arm down. He watches the way they'd ripple from his force before dropping down with a shake.

"You are so sexy, my god." Hongjoong rubs a palm over his face, eyeing your upper body. He must be a good man, truly. To be able to resist taking you right here, right now, his will power is incredible.

"Let's do one more, then call it for the night. Poor Y/N looks like she's about to pass out." San suggests, with him every other second glancing down at your chest, and you merely throw a hand up in agreement.

This hangout had went so left-field from what you were originally thinking, but you would be a liar if you said this didn't awaken something in you. Something you genuinely liked.

Yunho goes back to his spot right next to you, and Mingi decides to keep you two right where you guys are. Wooyoung takes the die from off of the ground, and shakes it with some much power, "Last one, fast one."

He throws the cube down and you all watch it spin and spin and spin until it stops on a pitch, ‘black’ square.

"Oh, hell." Yunho laughs out and you even grumble out a 'oh no'. Because, of course it has to end like this.

Wooyoung draws the last card from the all-black deck and straight way he begins to chuckle, though the way his eyes crinkled speaks to something much different, "The end is drawing near, everyone is feeling tired and it's clear it's time to wrap up for the day. To finish off the game, choose a player of your choice and have everyone finish on them."

After reading this aloud, the quiet that ensues is massive.

It's the calm before the storm.

Silence before an explosion.

Then…..

“Fuck, where should we put her?”

“Let’s have Y/N-ie on the ground.”

“My cock is throbbing so fucking hard right now.”

“This might be my biggest load yet.”

You’re being forced down into the middle, tits up, and all you see are more and more bodies popping into frame. They tower over you and just the sight is enough to get you aroused all over again. They’re undoing their pants, dropping them past their knees and leaving them all in their underwear.

“Take off my underwear,” Wooyoung, who’s closest to you, orders and you do. With shaky hands, you roll over to the side and bring down the boxers till it aligned with his pants and in return, his thick, naked, cock springs out, your mouth salivating.

“Do me next.” Hongjoong requests, and so you roll over to the other side and assist him. After a few more of the requests, soon everyone is bare and ready to complete this last task, and you go back to laying down.

Chest out and all, your eyes scan around to the scene of all the boys jerking away at their foreskin, some of them groaning as they continue watching you and the compromising position you’re in.

“Stroke me a little bit, can you do that for me?” Yunho asks, scooting closer to you and you oblige. You replace his hand for your own, wrapping around the hard length and begin to tug up and down.

As you’re occupied in doing this, San comes up and crouches down next to you, “Let me put it in your mouth really quick.”

Nodding, you widen your lips and allow him to dart his tip in and out of your hole all the while continuously rubbing Yunho.

“I wanna know what your mouth feels like too.” Mingi gruffs and so removing yourself from San, you place your attention on his girthy cock, taking as much of it as you could. Then someone else asks for a handjob, and without peeking you grip them nearby, sliding your palm against their shaft.

You make your way around, stimulating the group as best as you could. One after another, you’d find your mouth would be used to pleasure someone, while both of your hands would be busy jacking off a couple of others.

The ones that would remain to have themselves masturbate would find ways to combat their lust, like slapping their head against your sappy tits or rubbing their dicks on your stomach, leaving patches of pre-cum behind before you’d switch to aid them.

At some point, a body begins to shudder.

“F-Fuck, I think- I’m clo..close…” Hongjoong sputters, detaching himself from your mouth and going to jerk off and before he knows it, he starts to shoot out spurts of hot, viscous cum directly onto your face.

“I-I..” Yunho doesn’t even finish his sentence by the time his orgasm hits, his liquid aimed for around your mouth.

Person after person, ripples of orgasms hit the rest of the boys as they all spaz then cum sporadically everywhere, most of them not having a specific place but just desperately needed to release themselves, till eventually, they’re all finishing together.

“Oh, god.” Wooyoung groans as you work faster at his cock and basically milk him dry, any remaining cum dripping onto your breasts.

With a mix of grunts and whines, the flowing liquid begins to slow, and soon, everyone’s cocks are emptied out all over you. From face to torso, you are now, completely and utterly covered.

As heavy pants fill the room, some of guys dropping to the floor instantly while others make their way towards the bed, you continue resting on the floor and bask in the way you could literally feel left over cum dribble from chin an onto your neck.

You feel nasty. You feel dirty. Part of you is borderline disgusted with how even then, after all that you’ve endured, you still want to rut yourself against a pillow or something, fuck yourself on your own fingers, so needy to get off like how the guys did.

But that can come for another day. For now, the tiredness is catching up, heavy eyelids consuming you and just like that you shut your eyes and fall asleep, concluding the end to your single, dirty night.

- Bonus -

“Fuck, look at her legs,” San whimpers, pinching at his phone to zoom in on the photo, “Just wanna lick ‘em up.”

“Dude, are you still looking at photos of Y/N?” Wooyoung quips as he finishes tidying up bits of his room. Inviting friends over was not apart of his agenda this Saturday night, but after some convincing (and the promise of alcohol) he eventually agreed, even if there were other thing’s he’d rather do.

“How can I not?” He exits out of the photo of you at the beach then quickly scrolls through your Instagram, stopping on a dump from last Halloween of your innocently cute, yet busty angel costume, “Can I be honest about something?”

“Mm?” Wooyoung doesn’t face him when asking, again straightening up things in his room. Mingi and Yunho should be coming back at any minute with the second bottle, and Hongjoong said he’d be quick the snacks.

“I came to one of Y/N’s photos before,” San recalls the memory of him whacking away at his dick with one hand, the other propping his phone which showed a picture of you smiling side with a bouquet of tulips in your grasp. God, he loved that photo so much, “The one with the flowers.”

Wooyoung halts in his track and cranes his neck back to the boy sprawled out on his bed, “You came to a photo of her? God, have you no self-control?” At least whenever Wooyoung masturbates, it’s to videos he finds on the web that resemble you, not actual photos.

A light blush sprinkles across San’s cheeks, him closing out of the app and then sitting up on the mattress, “It wasn’t intentional…it just sort of happened.”

Wooyoung scoffs, “You’re a pervert. A pervert that’s going to corrupt my sweet, precious Y/N if you ever get your hands on her.”

“Oh for- you’ll be the one to corrupt her out of anyone,” San bites back right as the door swings open, revealing an excited Mingi and an intrigued Yunho.

“Fuck are you two arguing for?” Mingi belts, the sole bottle of alcohol tucked underneath his elbows. The two boys make their way over to the open chairs placed out for them, Yunho flopping down instantly while Mingi pulls out the bottle and sets it next to him on the ground.

“Dumb shit Wooyoung’s saying.” San offers as an answer and Wooyoung simply shrugs, part of him feeling the need to be deceitful.

“Joong not back yet?” Yunho mutters, stretching his hands above his head.

Wooyoung shakes his head, “Nah, he’s still out, taking forever tho.”

He hums in response when suddenly a memory flicks into his head and he immediately groans, “Aw, guys, did you see Y/N’s outfit today?” Yunho reminisces on earlier today where you wore a more fitting dress to classes, hugging just the right spots for everyone to see.

“And when she fucking dropped her notebook and bent over in front of us,” Mingi adds, picturing how round and full your ass looked in the dress, “Would’ve taken her right there.”

“Hell yeah.” The two fist bump as Mingi shifts over a bit, his foot accidentally kicking the liquor and sending it flying underneath the bed. Just as San mumbles out a ‘stupid’, Wooyoung clears his throat.

“Hey, guess what San did to a photo of Y/N-”

The words couldn’t even come out before San body slams Wooyoung straight to the ground, covering his mouth and preventing any form of slip up from happening, “Absolutely not.”

The junior cackles out loud and tries to pry the hand away from his face. A fight ensues, with San on top of Wooyoung, and Wooyoung defending himself. The other two simply watch in amusement at what’s happening in front of them.

The boys were so caught up in the scuffle, that to no one’s knowledge, Hongjoong barges into the room, and apparently, he’s brought a visitor with him.

"You gonna talk about me again?" Choi San threatens the junior whom he's currently hurting, applying pressure to the nape of his neck.

"Aish, aish!" Jung Wooyoung winces at the pain though, a crooked smile is present on his face, "What're you, a fucking barbarian? Get off."

At that statement, another uproar ensues. All of the boys shouting at him, yelling claims of "You took fucking forever!" "The hell?!" And other variations.

You raise your shoulders and tuck yourself inwards at the commotion yet, part of you seemingly enjoying the racket. A soft giggle flows out of you, which in turn makes your presence known.

“Y/N?” Jung Wooyoung questions first.

and you know the rest….

check out pt.2!

1K notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 2 months

Text

mother (no, literally) | f1

I’m so happy you guys are loving this series 🫶🏼 this one has a bit of a time skip lol

part 1 part 2

“Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” Lando asked. It was the first race since coming back from summer break and Lando was excited. He had arrived a bit early so he could eat breakfast with his grid mom, but the mention of ‘news’ stopped him.

“Y/n is out of for the rest of the season. Porsche announced it yesterday.” His PR manager, Charlotte, told him.

“Who’s taking her seat?” He asked.

“Juan Manuel Correa.”

Lando stayed silent. He started to think of the worst possible scenarios. He knew she went to to Mykonos with Charlie for her break since she posted on Instagram and texted him that she got him several gifts. Did something happen on her vacation? He prayed that she was okay.

“Do you know if Adam is in the garage?” Lando asked.

“Yeah, he’s still there.”

And so Lando was off to the Porsche garage in search of their team principal. He definitely had the answers. After greeting the engineers, Lando spotted Adam talking with Juan Manuel Correa.

“Hey, man.” Lando greeted the older man. “Where’s Y/n?.”

Both Adam and Juan Manuel looked at Lando with a sorry look. “Did something happen to her? She didn’t text me anything about leaving Porsche.” Lando wanted the truth.

“She’s not leaving. She’s taking a break and don’t ask me for how long, I have no idea when she’ll be back, but for now we have Juan and I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job. Excuse us, we have to have a short meeting right now. Don’t worry, Lando, she’s not sick or injured. She’s fine, actually she’s more than fine.” Adam squeezed Lando’s shoulder as he passed by to get to his team.

“Do you know something?” Lando asked Juan.

“It’s not my place to tell.” Juan said then excused himself to follow his team principal.

Lando figured that if it was one thing bad then surely someone would tell him. But he received no answers.

TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY MARK WEBBER’S DILFNESS

The F1 off season was here and Lando had plans. First, he needed to see his grid mother. It had been months since he last saw her and everytime he tried to make time to go see her, she wasn’t home. He found it odd, but at least she responded back to his messages.

Y/n was in her LA home with Charlie making dinner. She had found several recipes she wanted to try out. Her belly had grown, obviously, and she couldn’t hide it anymore. When she went out with Charlie, she would wear baggy clothes, but now those same baggy clothes couldn’t hide her bump.

“I’ve been thinking.” Y/n mentioned, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and eating it. “We never talked about godparents. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“I assumed Lando would be the obvious choice even if he doesn’t know about the baby.” Charlie replied, grabbing a strawberry and eating it.

“He was my first choice the second I found out. But I thought that you would choose one of your friends or costars from sons of anarchy.” Y/n stood up from her chair to check on the mac and cheese in the oven.

“If you think Lando should be our baby’s godfather then he should. He’s a great kid, babe. He’s technically your first kid.” Charlie teased.

“I miss my grid kids.”

The doorbell had rung meaning Lando had arrived. It was Charlie’s idea to have dinner with Lando to tell him the news. Well . . Once he noticed the big baby bump on Y/n, he would get an idea. While Charlie went to answer the door, Y/n got the mac and cheese out the oven.

Lando had gotten used to being around Charlie. Sure, he was a bit skeptical at first, but once he got to know the man, he knew that Charlie was the one for his grid mom.

“Hey, mate. How was your flight?” Cherie greeted Lando once he opened the door.

“Same as all the others. How are you and the missus?” Lando asked, bringing in his suitcase since he was going to stay with Y/n and Charlie for a couple of days.

“We’re great. Y/n was counting down the days until you got here. She’s in the kitchen. Babe? Lando’s here.” Charlie announced as him and Lando walked towards the kitchen.

The younger driver was stunned when he saw how much Y/n had changed. It it wasn’t a bad change, it was the best change. She smiled at Lando and walked to him to give him a hug.

“You’re pregnant! That’s amazing! Oh my god, you’re going to be an actual mum!” Lando gasped. “Is this why you’ve been hiding?”

“Pretty much. I didn’t want to make my pregnancy public until the birth. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. But it’s more than okay. Baby Hunnam is healthy and growing so fast.” Y/n explained.

“I’m happy for you. Wow, you’re going to be a mum.” He said it as if he couldn’t believe it. “Congratulations to both of you. Do you know the gender yet?”

“We decided to keep it a secret until the birth.” Charlie added.

“Well I think one thing is certain. Baby Hunnam is going to have a lot of overprotective uncles when they make their paddock debut.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #george russell #oscar piastri #logan sargeant #mick schumacher #alex albon

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 months

Text

MAD MAN

A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back

base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said.

It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.

You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back.

Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you.

You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end.

Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive.

Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.

“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.

“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”

“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”

“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.

You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone.

You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you.

“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him.

“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.

Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.

“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”

“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?”

“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”

“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”

“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”

“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”

You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.

“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away.

He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.

“The drink,” he then finally says.

“What?”

“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”

He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting.

“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”

His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”

“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.

“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”

Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly.

“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”

Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”

“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.

“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug.

“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love.

“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask.

“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”

“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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hellishjoel · 9 months

Text

talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods.

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?)

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there. “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there. He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel

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predestinatos · 5 months

Text

too cold | MV1 ⋆꙳❅ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader

summary: stormy weather leads to stormy thoughts about a years long friendship.

tags: best friends to lovers, soo cheesy, fluff, giddy max, super whipped for reader!!, wearing his sweater, just so much softness!

author's note: i dreamt about max for some reason and he's been living in my head rent free so... i had to let this out!! hope you like it. it's a short cute thing so..!

word count: 3.5k

warnings: -

It was cold and stormy that day. You had expected it, the forecasts all telling you the same thing, your hair completely tangled in itself as soon as you stepped out of the house into the car.

You planned it all, including getting there earlier, so you could spend as much time with Max as possible – you never skipped the pleasant silence of his presence at least once a week. What you hadn’t planned was for you two to get carried away with taking buzzfeed quizzes and personality tests to the point where it was dark outside, the storm more aggressive, more threatening, and more dangerous.

“Shit,” you muttered when the wind outside made the windows tremble with extreme force, their sound almost like a warning voice in the night. “How am I going home like this?” you asked yourself out loud, desperate and scared, as Max completed yet another ‘What’s Your Mental Age Based on Your Choice of Cutlery’ quiz. He glanced outside nonchalantly, almost carelessly, as if the question was ridiculously easy to answer, close to ironic.

Before going back to the seriousness of the questions at hand, he shrugged, shoulders going up and down in explicit tranquility. “You can stay over” he stated, his finger hovering over a weirdly shaped spoon that said ‘shit stirrer’ on its surface. You let out a breath that indicated his joke was funny yet not useful in the slightest given your current dilemma, to which he looked at you and laughed back, assuming you were amused at the choice of teaspoon he had just made. “Max, I’m serious” you voiced your urgency and fear with those words. “Me too” he continued, eyes glued on the screen, yet slightly confused at your own comment.

At your audible sigh and attempt to get up from his bed, where you comfortably laid scrolling through your phone for options, he turned around from his chair which was facing the screen. “You’re not leaving” he said, in a concerned tone of a friend who refused to let you be consumed by the rapidly increasing rain. “I don’t understand what the matter is” he continued as he saw you searching through his room for your things, messily scattered on the floor, reminiscent of childhood times spent together.

You merely looked at him in response, the answer obvious to you but seemingly not to him, only hitting him hard in the face as a joke he couldn’t help but laugh at seconds later. “You always slept here” he said, astonished at your reluctance and apparent timidness. “Yeah, Max. When we were 11” you protested, tucking some hair behind your ear as you looked for your charger. “Plus, I don’t have a pajama, or spare underwear” your arms now crossed across your chest, mimicking his own, a baffled smile on his lips.

“You can wear one of my sweaters. And like, my boxers, or something” this made your mouth drop in ridiculous surprise, a fear in your eyes which he didn’t understand. “I’m serious! It’s better than you going out with this storm!” his arm pointed towards the window, the view outside a paid actor because a lightning appeared violently before both of you. With a winning grin, he finished his argument with a “C’mon I’ll let you choose the outfit.”

Opening the drawers, you let yourself take a look at the collection of multicolored sweaters organized neatly. Your eyes landed on a grey one, which looked a bit worn out but comfortable at the same time, its marks of usage being a testament to its quality. You grabbed it and noticed that it smelled like Max, like the years of friendship you two shared. “The boxers are in the other drawer” Max interrupted your thoughts, yet his indifferent air made you less awkward about this situation, almost like it was normal that this was happening, like you were both 10 again, popcorn being prepared in the small kitchen next door.

You let yourself randomly choose some of his underwear, trying your best not to look too much at it, knowing little to nothing about how to even begin choosing such a thing for yourself. The strong wind whistled outside, and Max’s fingers hit the keyboard, creating a soothing lullaby.

“I’m- uh-… going then” you said, making your way towards the bathroom as he happily nodded, the familiarity of the house being a known fact for both of you.

The truth was, Max missed you. A lot. He missed hanging out with you all night, watching really bad films and playing silly videogames, drinking some beers and enjoying yourselves. Lately, he hadn’t had the time to do all these things, let alone doing them with you, and even though he did not plan this storm in the slightest, he was glad for it. The rain came as a reminder that you two had a year long friendship you could still enjoy, the sound blending with the one coming from the bathroom as you turned on the shower.

Sleeping over only got weird given the fact that Max was a boy and you were a girl, but it shouldn’t have been like that. In his mind, nothing changed, and nothing should have to change – he still wanted you as close as he did when you two watched scary video compilations on youtube and spent all night hiding under the covers and whispering in an attempt to not ‘awake the big monster’.

He still wanted to spend time with you when you were 16 and started talking about how cute his friends were, asking him if they were single or not as you put a lollipop in your mouth and painted your nails in colorful amusement.

He still wanted you to sleep over even when his girlfriends told him they didn’t quite like the fact that he was so close with you, that he seemed to want to be with you more than with them, that he dropped everything as soon as you texted him a slightly unusual text.

And it was normal, and alright, because you were best friends, because you knew each other better than your own selves, because you’d recognize his laugh in the middle of a crowd even with noise cancelling headphones, and he would recognize the smile you made when you were flustered even if he was blindfolded.

It was also normal for him to smile to himself and feel the happiest he has felt in a while, because he missed you, and you were staying over and nothing would have felt better than knowing he had a night full of your presence.

Meanwhile, you stood in his all-too familiar shower, accepting the fact that he had no conditioner, and a shampoo would have to do for the night. Simultaneously, this made you reflect on the clear fact that he had probably had no stable, consistent, female presence in his life in a while. As the liquid dropped in your hand and you brought your hands to your hair, thoughts about previous relationships of his flooded your mind.

They never ended well, and the guilt you felt because of it was ever present. Max was the best friend you could’ve asked for, because he always picked you, no matter what. In fact, he gave it no thought nor justification, not to you or his previous relationships. He accepted the fact that you were his priority as a given, something so natural as breathing, as blood pumping through his veins. You couldn’t deny you did the same. Previous partners of yours weren’t too fond of his constant need to assess and approve of them, of how he was your emergency contact whenever anything happened, how you made sure you spent time with him at least once a week.

Feeling the foam forming on your scalp, you remembered the times where you two bathed together, the innocence of gone times flying through your head with fondness. Of course, you two grew, and while you never broke the bond that formed between you, it was also harder to continue certain traditions you maintained.

Your teenage years were filled with angst and some bickering over how uncomfortable he made your dates, or how all he did was talk about girls when you two were together. You used each other as diaries and confidantes, keeping secrets in a closed vault made of memories. Nothing really had changed besides your ages, and none of you were dating, or at least it did not seem like it.

As you washed your body with lavender scented soap, you realized this is what you were missing – the comfortability of being the most like yourself you could possibly be, alongside him.

Max stared at the “You Are 14 Years Old!” result on his computer, reading the in depth description on how that one fork gave his age away, when he heard your shout for his name coming from the now foggy bathroom, the place now looking more like Silent Hill or a liminal space. Removing one side of his headphones off, his voice echoed throughout the apartment “Yes?”, filled with softness and worry, a completely unknown care for you which wasn’t displayed by anyone else but him. Smiling to yourself, you replied, “do you seriously only own one bath towel?”

Removing both of his headphones off now, with realization hitting him and he jumped from his seat, he ran towards the drawer that possessed all the other towels he stored in organized fashion. “Shit! No! Sorry! I’m on my way!” he said urgently, grabbing one as he ran towards the bathroom, opening its door and popping only one arm in, his eyes facing the wall but also closed with affirming need to reassure you that he wasn’t looking, refused to look, would never even consider to do such a thing.

You pulled the fabric off his hand as you thanked him with a soft giggle, his previous nonchalant attitude vanishing upon the thought of seeing you naked – which you weren’t, and he would’ve realized this had he considered the fact that the bathroom possessed ONE towel, currently wrapped around your now wet body. Shivering with cold, you got yourself dry as fast as you could, while Max sat back down in his chair, cursing to himself at his clumsiness and lack of thought.

Examining yourself in the mirror as dried your hair off (after several minutes of looking for the hairdryer, not wanting to put Max through the whole ordeal of performing the biggest demonstration of respect towards one’s privacy ever witnessed) you noticed something you hadn’t before. This simple, yet incriminating item put into question your previous thoughts about Max’s lack of companionship in his home, your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth turning downwards at the thought that he was hiding something from you.

On the tiny little cup sitting on the sink, there were two toothbrushes. They were carefully put together in a magical arrangement of colors that indicated that one had to be able to tell them apart, like each had its own owner. Suddenly, the whole idea of sleeping over – hell, of wearing Max’s clothes – seemed ridiculously selfish. You had done it before, but you were adults now, and with adulthood came a sense of responsibility and respect that hit you in the face like a slap, the simple idea of an innocent sleepover with your best friend sounding absolutely childish and ridiculous.

“Max?” you called out again, a deep breath escaping your lungs as you sat down on the toilet seat, hair still slightly damp, towel still wrapped around your body upon your refusal to put his clothes on. “Yes?” he replied once again, a feeling of déjà vu invading your thoughts, a repetition of mere seconds before yet with rose tinted glasses off.

“I think it’s best if I just go home,” you muttered, even though you hadn’t moved. Realistically, the idea of going out there terrified you, but perhaps not as much as staying over, given the current situation. Putting your underwear back on after showering felt dirty, but perhaps wearing his clean one after noticing another one’s presence in his room, his life, his thoughts, made you feel even dirtier.

“Come on, I bet your outfit looks amazing” he said jokingly, assuming you were embarrassed about your current look, trying to lighten up the mood with teasing reassurance. Getting up once again, he stood near the bathroom door, head close to it as if trying to listen to the fabric against your skin, some hint of your own amused presence. All he heard was silence, one so unbelievably loud he felt something off, something wrong. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice now more careful, more tender, and more concerned.

You only murmured in allowance, and noticed the doorknob turn as he stepped inside. “What’s up?” he asked, his eyes revealing deep concern with slight embarrassment over the painting you two were probably creating. Him, pajama pants and hoodie on, glasses now slightly foggy; you, with droplets falling down your hair as you looked down, hugging the towel tightly against your body. “I don’t want to cause any trouble” you said as you unconsciously looked back at the toothbrushes which now seemed to stare at you both accusingly, judgingly.

“Why would you- Oh,” he interrupted himself, his gaze following yours towards the same spot, his look going from confused to serious to utterly humored. “This?” he asked again, grabbing the small toothbrush from the cup, its cable a pretty yellow shade. “What’s your favorite color again?” he continued, waving the object in front of your face as you stared at it in confusion.

Looking up, you replied simply “yellow- oh,” it was your turn to interrupt yourself, now realizing how you had almost forgotten your childhood promise, yet surprised as well at the fact that he had kept it after all these years, the innocence of the act causing your heart to hurt slightly.

“It’s always been here. I mean, not the same one, obviously, but… a spare toothbrush” he explained, even though he did not have to, his hand playfully messing your hair before he headed bac towards the door. “Get dressed, silly. We have films to watch” his warm voice instructed you with tenderness before he closed the door behind him.

Stepping out of the bathroom, finally dry and dressed, you forced Max to close his eyes before looking at you. “Don’t make fun of me or I’ll leave” you threatened jokingly, as his eyes remained tightly shut with his hands in front of them dramatically. “I won’t I promise!” he claimed, yet he was already laughing, the sound of it reminding you of the years of togetherness you both shared.

“Okay, you can look” you finally gave your permission, as he took his hands off his face and blinked fast, the lights suddenly blinding him. At first, he just stared at you, expression absolutely unreadable. Then, he burst into laughter, apologizing as his giggles filled the bedroom. “I look ridiculous” you complained, the long sleeves covering your hands and flopping lazily as you did so. “No you look adorable!” he tried to protest, laughter insistent on making its way through his lips, his eyes shining with happy tears. “Adorably ridiculous” you continued, rolling your eyes and throwing yourself on the bed defeatedly, your head buried in his pillow, filled with the scent of him.

Knowing your mood would change soon, Max merely smiled to himself as he started putting a film on, the choice being the Twilight saga – easy to watch, entertaining, fun, and he could tease you about it constantly, pretending he didn’t enjoy it himself. Bags of jellybeans hit your head as he threw them towards you, in an attempt to wake you from your moody attitude. “C’mon grumpy I have beer” he poked you as he sat on the bed as well, pressing play and opening a bag which he waved in front of your face as you got up lazily.

“’I know what you are’ ‘Say it. Out loud. Say it!’ ‘Vampire’” you said the lines along with the film, echoing each and every intonation and expression. Popping a bear shaped jellybean in his mouth as he took another sip of his beer, Max interrupted your acting session by saying “can you imagine how awkward it would be if it was something else entirely and he would just be like… ‘uh no’” and laughing to himself. Your arm flew to his as you punched it angrily, despite the fact that you were giggling to yourself.

Something about getting you slightly on your nerves while also making you smile made Max feel almost at home, in a safe space without comparison, only available to him when you were around. He felt himself in a constant state of meditation whenever he was around you, his breathing naturally adjusting itself to match yours.

Instinctively, and not out of the ordinary for any of you, he grabbed your hand and played with it softly, his fingers feeling the soft texture of your skin and pinching it with playful tenderness. You never questioned it, and neither did he, this need you two had to display affection more than most friends did, the need to always be in some sort of contact with each other, to feel each other’s warmth and presence closely. Without taking his eyes off of the film, seemingly very intensely focused on Edward’s skin of a killer, he spoke up. “You don’t look ridiculous,” he said, as you held your gaze on the film, yet laughing at his comment, expecting a joke to be made about how what’s on the screen is way more embarrassing than you in his underwear. Yet he said something completely different. “You always look pretty. Very pretty” his voice was soft as he now looked at you, and you felt his gaze on your skin, your cheeks, your eyelashes, yet refused to look at him and face whatever was happening in that night.

The windows rattled once again, breaking the momentary spell that hovered in the room, hypnotizing both of you with the haze of uncertain feelings. You heard his breathing as well, heavy and nervous now, his heart racing and yours matching his, maybe because you were so deeply connected or maybe because your feelings and his were now the same shade of complexity.

You wondered if this is why you had stopped sleep overs together. Perhaps it was the fear of facing the fact that things were not as simple and easy to brush off when the clock hit 3am and his hand was on his and your head on his shoulder and you had no intention of moving. And he shared these same thoughts, realizing how that letting go of you right now would probably be the worst thing that could happen, the scariest thought that could possibly cross his mind.

All this happened in fractions of second, too short for any of you to truly acknowledge what was happening, his voice interrupting both of your thoughts as he spoke once again, “obviously not as pretty as Edward Cullen but-“ to which you rolled your eyes and laughed. “I bet he’d look better in your sweatshirt” you said, another sip of beer falling on your lips.

“Impossible” he replied, a smile on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours and then taking your whole appearance in, your cheeks blushing shyly at how attentively he looked at you, at how his gaze seemed so tender and soft. A sudden urgency to feel his lips on yours filled your thoughts with sheer intensity that terrified you. You hadn’t seen Max that way, hadn’t considered it nor question it before, not even when your dates and boyfriends accused you of things, not when your friends commented on how you looked at him. Yet in that exact moment, something shifted completely, perhaps stirred by the storm outside, perhaps because it simply felt right in that moment to feel wrong.

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asked. The innocence of the question made you giggle, the contrast between his soft and careful voice and his adult look with a week old stubble making you giddy and timid as you nodded.

His lips touched yours with caution, yet with undeniable fondness that made you question why this hadn’t happened before. You felt his smile in between the kiss, the satisfaction of finally breaking this unknown wall that had existed between you for so long, and which you remained so unaware about.

Pulling away, Max’s eyes stared into yours before moving to the screen, a satisfied smile on his now slightly redder than usual lips, your own face mimicking his. “Edward Cullen could never kiss as well as you” he whispered, earning himself another soft punch, followed by 3 more films worth of kissing.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula one #f1blr

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meiieiri · 3 months

Text

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

#geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru #geto suguru x y/n #geto x you smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto angst #geto x you

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chrollohearttags · 3 months

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window shopping • connie springer + ryomen sukuna x black fem reader

your two favorite fellow mall employees have a bit of a competition to see who can bag you first. Little did they know, you don’t want to choose.

word count: 3.7K

content + themes: crossover au, jeweler connie, foot locker manager sukuna (they’re both afro-latino coded in this idc), threesome tings (too many smutty things to list) car sex, heavy squirting, oral to name a few (.2 seconds of rimming), lots of humor, weed mentions, they call reader mami, miss and baby, she calls them both papi, crack ass post if I’ve ever written one.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

interesting. The one word you’d use to describe your work days at Center Pointe Mall. Although a gross understatement, it was still interesting..mainly due in part to what and who, rather..you encountered on a daily basis. Sure, the influx of customers and unfamiliar faces you saw during your employment at Sephora were most certainly wild cards. From the college girls who always mismatched their foundation to the business woman who needed that perfect skin care package to get rid of her crow’s feet..neither of them held a candle to those two..

“Good morning, miss. You look good today..like that hair on you.”

“Aye, good morning, ma. What’s that perfume you got on..’smell real good.”

it was like clockwork. Every day, as you entered for your shift, there they were. Stationed in front of their respective stores, ready to greet you. Flashing those beaming smiles, oftentimes with gold slugs in their mouth and with the same, sweet charm lacing their words. Ryomen Sukuna, who headed up the Foot Locker and Connie Springer, managing the jewelry shop which both just so happened to be conveniently placed on either side of your store. It made for fun times, for sure! When you’d have a slow day and you’d stand outside the doorway, vibing to the music they’d play because the top forty’s pop crap they recycled on repeat was driving you insane. Connie would talk to you from across the way as he waited for potential customers. Ryo, who was the manager, had other employees manning the store. He would come and interrupt the party none other than for the reason of chatting you up and getting on Connie’s nerves. Which made for quite the entertainment.

“Aw, hell. Here he go..Ryo, ain’t nobody talking to you, bruh. Gon’ somewhere.”

“Stay out of grown folks' business, Mr. Clean. I came to see my girl. What’s up with you, miss?”

which was so much more hilarious, considering the fact that the two of them? They were literally best friends! Dating back as far as middle school. Ryo was a couple years older but they were from the same neighborhood and were attached at the hip. Both exceptional basketball players and gifted artists. Drawing amazing artwork and a number of the tattoos they had on their bodies. Brilliant young men with wonderful personalities..how could you not adore them?! Regardless, all three of you would congregate outside of those doors and talk until customers came in and would even take your lunch breaks together. It was never a dull moment with those two, that’s for sure. Especially when it comes to vying for your attention. Buying your food, pulling your chair out and everything. They were perfect gentlemen despite their constant flirtation. Connie would use humor as a means to try and win your heart. Always spewing out corny jokes and making you laugh. Ryo was definitely the charmer of the pair..attempting to sweet talk you at every turn. One day, you were sitting next to Ryo in the food court with Connie in front of you as you grabbed the pink haired gentleman’s chin.

“You got such a pretty smile, Ryo.” And Connie was not having it. Immediately snorting as he sipped his drink, the chaos would ensue. “Yeah, cause he went and got them big ass veneers. Them extra large teef’…” prompting you to nearly spit out your drink and forcing your head down. You couldn’t take them anywhere! “..bet you eat corn on the cob whole. Chewing them muhfuckas like candy.” Knowing he was opening up a can of worms he wasn’t ready for.

“Worry ‘bout pedaling them fake ass chains, ConMan. Bubblegum machine ass necklace. Look at the diamonds, shit’s standing still..” And they’d go on forever, taking shots and licks at each other all day, putting you in the middle of it. “(Y/N), miss. Tell this baldheaded ass lil’ boy to leave you alone. We can go get a tester and put his ass outta business right now .” “Tell jumbo teeth to mind his business. Tight ass shirt on..bout to rip.” And you’d have to feign off their nonsense with laughter. “Y’all too much. I gotta go. I’ll see you boys later.” And both of them would instantly fluster at the sight of you waving goodbye. It was all but impossible when they’d watch those thirty inches of jet black hair and ass swaying simultaneously. Those plump, gloss covered lips; wearing your signature brown liner and beautiful features. A single nose piercing on the side of your left nostril..you were gorgeous. They couldn’t help but to admire. But soon, that innocuous affection turned to actual lust. Lust that was shared on all sides and unbeknownst to your bumbling boys..you wanted a piece of them both. They’d continue flirting, pining for your affection and even making a little wager without your knowledge to see who could bag you first..

but it was one night after work, when you were all seated in Ryo’s car. You in the passenger’s seat of his spacious, blacked out Trackhawk. He is in the driver’s seat and Connie was right behind you. Stationed in an empty lot not too far from the mall itself, the three of you would do as you had done several times:

“Here, your turn, (y/n).”

passing around a blunt and blowing smoke as you hotboxed..leaving a large cloud to fog up the already tinted windows. After four puffs, you were already beginning to feel the effects. Your eyes narrowed and began to glow red from the euphoria. But alas, your high was only about to increase tenfold when you’d drop quite a bombshell on them. They’d continue with their usual antics and alas, the question would arise again: who do you like more? And from there, they’d just go on and on, swearing that one or the other was the ideal choice. Ryo, with his deep raspy tone, would incite the behavior with the glide of a finger underneath your chin and that smooth talking. If it truly was a competition, you wouldn’t know how to pick. Granted, they were both so silly but there was a quality about each of them that you couldn’t resist. Ryo, with his overall sex appeal..this man was so charming and knew exactly what to say to get EXACTLY what he wanted.

“C’mon now, lil’ bro. I mean, I’d hate to hurt your feelings but don’t make the lady choose. It’s not even a question. Ain’t that right, miss?” Flashing you a wink in return.

but there was also Connie, who was a literal sweetheart. He had a more tactful approach to doing things. Despite all of the tattoos, chains and golds in his mouth, he had sort of this shyness about him. But in the same turn, you knew deep down, if given the chance, he’d show you that he wasn’t for play. “Don’t even play yourself like that, bruh. You know she would pick me everytime. Tell ‘em, mami. You just don’t wanna be rude..” Again though, you had no interest in making only one selection and rather..

“…who said I wanted to pick at all?”

leaving them both stunned and stopped dead in their tracks. At first, they were both a little taken aback. Completely misunderstanding what it was that you were saying. They figured that you meant that neither of them were on your radar and that you had no interest in being anything besides their friend. But once again, they were both wrong! With the look of shock still fresh on their faces, you’d waste no time in elaborating..starting with a kiss along Ryo’s jawline and whispering in his ear. . “I mean…why would I when you could both have me?” And it was then that their faces began to turn beet red! Illuminated with complete bashfulness. They knew that they had been pining after you something serious. Even making a few sexual innuendos here and there but never would they have guessed that you’d been down for something of this caliber.. “..you telling me y’all never thought about it? Because I have..all the time.” Uttering the confession with your tongue scaling the sides of his neck; flicking it over his tattoo. Meanwhile, your hand would snake to the backseat to massage Connie’s crotch. This silly little game was a moot point. What was the point of competition when they could simply work together to give you what you wanted?! Taking heed to your advances and obvious demand, they wasted no time in shifting gears.

“Well damn..if that’s the type shit you was on, all you had to do was let us know.”

Ryo, who was already groping your big, round tits, shoved his tongue between your lips and began to engage in a full blown make out session. Exchanging sloppy wet kisses, as you had been downing water in between your passes. Meanwhile, Connie would watch from the backseat, sort of aroused by the idea of spectating. He’d listen to your soft whimpers, the dirty words uttered into your ear and even how Ryo clasped your throat in his ink laden hands and immediately began to feel a pulse through the confines of his boxers. He’d discreetly cup the bulge and just slowly rub it as your ass jiggled from being folded over the console. Faint traces of saliva seeped from your mouths each time you both pulled away; only to find yourselves with one less article of clothing. Your hand had slipped into his black joggers and began tousling that growing erect around. You knew it was big by the visible print alone and could only imagine what it looked like. But before you could unveil the mystery and have too much fun, he’d stop and usher you to the backseat so you could both join Connie. “Climb back there..”

and they didn’t have to tell you what to do because the second you sat down in the middle, Connie would tap in. Bringing your face towards him and kissing you with such passion. Immediately wrapping his fingers around your neck and twirling his tongue around between your jaws. His hands worked to unclasp your jeans and once he did, that left hand would find its way into the seat of your panties..rubbing that clit whilst you stroked that cock in your hand. Running those fingers up and down that shaft; letting those duckbill shaped nails graze his tip. He was such an attentive and great kisser, you felt yourself growing wetter by the moment. Heating up on his very fingers..meanwhile, Ryo had joined the fray as well. Readjusting himself only for a split second to step out of the drivers into the seat behind him. Once he was with you both, it was up from there.

“Can’t let him have all the fun..c’mere, baby.” It was then that he’d shuffle his pants back down to his waist and allow you to stroke him as well. They had full fledged confidence that you knew what to do..going back and forth, exchanging kisses and gentle strokes..pumping each of them in your enclosed fists. Meanwhile, they’d take great joy in fondling your body. Ryo’s wide grasp encompassed both of your tits as he peeled your shirt away. Connie’s fingers were still tending to your sensitive cunt. Slick surrounding his digits as he worked them in and out..even massaging that thumb pad over your clit. In a matter of moments, they’d have you squirming in the seat and begging for more. Soon, Ryo’s lips latched on to your neck, suckling on the nape of it with a wild eyed expression. His raspy laugh ringing in your ear as he reached for your throat. Meanwhile, your palms were still clasped around their cocks, pumping the shafts with delicate strokes..without breaking stride, they’d use their free hands to rid you of those bottoms; shoving them down to your ankles where you’d kick them off. The same followed for your shirt, which Ryo tore open with minimal effort. Having long since discarded your bra, you were left with nothing more than a paper thin thong that was tugged to the side, along with your shoes that soon followed the rest. With you rendered completely nude, there wasn’t a thing holding them back..during the entire ordeal, they’d alternate between the different parts of your body; having their fill and taking their pick of what they wanted to indulge in next. As well as piling your head with compliments and salacious comments about what they wanted to do with you. Ryo not holding back a single detail of how many times he wanted you to come for him, even at the expense of his interior. Carefully examining that tight cunt spasming on his best friend’s digits. He had the utmost confidence that you could take the dick, regardless of their sizes. Luckily, the second and third row seating were laid back so you’d have ample room. Connie on the other hand, who had been honing in on getting you prepped..aware of how tight you were..couldn’t stop telling you how badly he wanted to use your throat. He’d often dreamt of seeing those pretty lips stretched around his cock..watching you gag, slurp and spit on it as it so carefully glided in and out of your mouth. And all you could do was whimper, thrashing yourself around on those knuckles to reach an inevitable orgasm and you were so damn close.

“Aye, Ryo. You think she’s ready, bruh? Feels like she is…what do you think?”

“I think so too, lil’ bro..say, love..you think you can handle both of us? We don’t wanna hurt you now..”

but they were both in for quite the surprise. You were far from the bashful type and you were about to give them something they’d never forget. Chuckling with your head suspended back, you’d chew lightly at your bottom lip before answering either of them.

“Handle it? Y’all better the fuck the shit out of me. I don’t like all that talking without action.” And with that, both Ryo and Connie were full and well aware of what they had to do if they wanted to keep you around! Ushering you onto all fours first, everybody got into position. You with your ass up in the air and back arched as Ryo saddles behind you. Connie sprawled out on the back passenger door as your head lowered into his lap. All you wanted was for them to use your body as they saw fit..fuck you until your legs gave out and a mess covered this backseat. “C’mere, mama. Lemme have that pussy..” with tattooed hands and fingernails digging into your hair, Ryo pushed you face down as he aligned that swollen cock head with your very sensitive slit. He couldn’t help but to be enamored with the plumpness of that pretty ass. That cute little asshole was already fluttering and that cunt dripping for him, preparing to stretch you open. Meanwhile, Connie was brushing that beautiful hair to the side so that he could line up with your mouth.

“Yeaah, there we go, mami. Eat this dick up..know you been waiting to..” and he was correct. Hence why it wasn’t a full five minutes before you’d find yourself stuffed full at each end. Deep groans released from each males’ mouths when the initial sensation of your holes hit. They couldn’t believe how silky and warm both of them felt. Letting out a simultaneous ‘fuck’, along with a laugh..they’d make haste in moving. You were more than well lubricated so they slipped in and out with ease. You’d bob your head slowly, up and down on Connie’s shaft whilst Ryo’s hands rested at the small of your back, slowly pressing those thumbs into those adorable dimples..sounds of clapping flesh and slurping began to emit throughout the vehicle and before long, all three of you were letting loose.

“Shit! Pussy’s so goddamn tight, baby..how you keep this from me all this time?”

“Fuuuck, mami. chupas esa mierda tan bien…” whimpering in a high pitched moan, he’d toss his head back and continue letting you work your magic. Those plump lips wrapped around that thick shaft as globs of saliva drenched down to his swollen balls. Without so much as a single gag. You took him nearly five inches down your throat before withdrawing and jerking him off. Even though he filled your esophagus. Leaving quite the sloppy mess in your wake. All while a sheath of creamy lather began to form as those thick cheeks collided with Ryo’s pelvis. You’d begin to whimper and beg each of them for more. “Yeah, mama..let us hear that shit. How much you love being fucked like a lil’ slut..” teasing before leaning down to lick up the curvature of your spine. “Mmph! Fuuuck..please, don’t stop.” And he had no intentions of doing so, especially when he’d reach underneath and curl his hand underneath and massage your clit. Making you twitch on that cock..but Connie wasn’t one to be neglected either. Because once you put your mouth back on him, he was done for. Lowering your head again, an entire sheath of saliva came spilling onto that shaft as you spat and continued pumping in your hand. Where you kept your focus, however, were on those round, full balls of his. Practically aching to the touch..apparent by the way his body trembled and those diamonds kept swinging and refracting against the star covered ceiling.

“Yeah, right there, baby. Suck that muhfuck—“ but just as quickly as he gave the command, he’d be halted in his tracks and his eyes would trail to the back of his head. “Fuuuuck! Oh fuck, do that again, baby. That feels so good.” Nearly catapulting out of his seat from the sensation of your tongue swirling around his balls and momentarily gliding over his entrance. He knew he’d probably never experienced something so salacious before. Talk all he might but Connie was a lover boy and most likely, incredibly vanilla. He preferred making love over rough fucking. Meanwhile, Ryo preferred his women to be freaky. The kind that would top him off and kiss him afterwards or let him put a foot on her head! He could only let out a hearty laugh as he watched his lil’ bro get bitched up!

“You a nasty lil’ bitch. I love it. Knew you was gon’ be a problem but damn…aye, Connie..you good, bruh?” Only receiving a loud whine back..knowing that you had damn near sucked the soul out of this man!

“C’mon, baby. Let’s switch.” And truth be told, he too needed a breather because if he persisted, you were going to be on maternity leave messing with him! Reluctantly withdrawing, he’d pull out and lay his erect across your back, spurting a trail of his precum across your skin. You all would maneuver around until the two of them had switched positions and you were flat on your back. Dangling your head, Ryo took hold of it as he leaned against the door and Connie spread you open. Pinning your legs back, he’d tap himself against your slick ridden, fucked out little hole..eliciting a high pitched whimper. One that hummed and vibrated against Ryo’s cock. It was such a euphoric feeling for all three of you. Especially with the sensation of that weed coursing through your veins. That thong dangled around your ankles and his wristwatch glistened under the lights as his hands clasped your ankle. Placing soft kisses around your calf. “Pussy’s so fucking wet, mami..damn.” Ryo was on the opposite end, thrusting into your mouth slowly with a gentle hand cupped around your throat. They were using you as they saw fit and you couldn’t get enough. They’d persist until they drummed out what would be the first of many orgasms. Which came not a moment too soon when Connie was pressing down into the center of your belly and pumping you full of cock. That’s when you felt it!…

“Damn! Let it out, baby..squirt on that dick, just like that.” Sending you into convulsions as he tapped himself against you after you all but pushed you out. But you were too busy having your mouth used as a sleeve to release any moans. But Ryo was aware of the way you hummed against him. Connie wasn’t going to be the only one having his fill. He wanted you to take his nut inside regardless of where it ended up. Tugging himself momentarily and seemingly premature, he’d hold you in place as he prompted you to stick your tongue out. Which you did with a wide smile on your face. “There we go.” Rewarding you with a long glob of spit afterwards. “Mmm, thank you, papi.” Showing your gratitude to them both. The two men would continue on their crusade to bring you to ultimate pleasure. Taking turns pounding in various positions..and entrances until finally..

“Fuck! On your knees, baby..just like that.”

“Suck that fucking cum out, mama..”

they’d instruct you to grasp both of their shafts and jerk them off until you milked them of every remnant of their cum. And it didn’t take long before you found your face splattered in both men’s semen and them rolling their heads back on their shoulders and crying out your name, along with a string of expletives. Needless to say, you all were good and spent. And very much satisfied with this little rendezvous! Even so, the gentlemen still couldn’t help but to question who was the better of the two. But if you hadn’t already made yourself clear, you’d iterate it one more time:

“Like I said, I don’t have to choose..I’m just window shopping.”

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