#He’d be like “who tf you talking to like that?”

[1800bugaboo]

E42!Miles and his sassy gf arguing

[twig-gy]

okay but whenever proshippers say [thing i have literally never heard anyone say or consider saying] that’s really gross which is why i hate them

[bootyful-seventeen]

I love seeing those TikTok’s of plus sized girls speaking about how we get treated differently by men when compared to our smaller friends cuz they honestly speak nothing but facts

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~

and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~

prev story » ❤︎

“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”

“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”

“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”

You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again. 

It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.

Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.

But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.

However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.

But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on. 

And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it. 

“Y/n!”

Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by. 

“Y/n...”

But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop. 

“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“

“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” 

You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.

You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.

“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”

And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.” 

The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.

“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.

“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“

“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“

“Did he tell you what he said to me?”

“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.” 

“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”

Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“

“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.

“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”

You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"

“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“

“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“

“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”

“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?

“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”

Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”

“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”

“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”

And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation. 

“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”

He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down. 

“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”

“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”

“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff. 

“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”

“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”

It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against. 

But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.

“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.” 

Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself. 

From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock. 

Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about. 

And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.

BZZZR!! BZZZR!!

However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button. 

It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—

“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.

“Hi…..Where are you?”

“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You sitting on the toilet?”

You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”

“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“

“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”

Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”

“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”

“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.” 

“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”

“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“

“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?” 

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin. 

“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”

“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”

“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?” 

You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.

As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.

You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?” 

“Huh?”

“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”

The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”

“Gojo—“

“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.

You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?” 

“….”

“…Gojo?”

“….”

“Gojo? Are you still—“

“I like you.”

Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.

There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.

He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.

“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.

“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”

“How long ago is that?”

“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you like me? 

You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.” 

You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say. 

“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”

You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”

“Huh!? Why??”

“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”

“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”

“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”

“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”

“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”

He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”  

“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”

KA-BANG-BANG!!

You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”

“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“

“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?” 

Huh!? “A date??”

“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”

“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“

“We could skip—“

“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.” 

“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”

For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”

It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out? 

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.” 

“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”

“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”

Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”

“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”

“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”

“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”

“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“

CLICK!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about. 

As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.

What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.

You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.

“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around. 

And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.

“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth. 

“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.” 

“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”

“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”

Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip. 

And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”

“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.

After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie. 

However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute. 

Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.

“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t. 

Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?” 

You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”

“You just saying that to agree with me?” 

“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.

He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:

“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”

He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—

“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”

Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”

You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”

“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”

Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”

The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”

When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.

Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them. 

This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.

So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed. 

His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.

He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”

He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp. 

But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties. 

You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers. 

When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more. 

“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.

“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”

You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.

“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.

Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”

That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.

He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.

“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.

“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.

His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?” 

You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?” 

He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.

“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”

You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”

Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.

Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.

“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.

“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“

“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”

“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”

“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”

Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie! 

And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no! 

“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”

Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision. 

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!” 

Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt. 

He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl. 

The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.

He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck. 

“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”

“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”

“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?” 

He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”

“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.

“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”

“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”

“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”

“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“

“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”

It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.

After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!

Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours. 

Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.

Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.

And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation. 

You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“

“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his. 

“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“

“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.” 

You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again. 

“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”

On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”

“Uhh, are we interrupting something?” 

With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you. 

You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“

“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”

“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.

Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”

“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”

Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”

Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?

“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”

Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”

“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”

The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.

Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”

“Gojoooo….”

Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko. 

“SATORUUUU!!!”

You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.

“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”

“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”

And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two. 

It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.

And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.

 It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.

“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”

“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”

And you two wouldn’t want it any other way. 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[lewisvinga]

my real reaction | charles leclerc x fem! sturniolo! reader !

summary; when the sister of the famous sturnilo quadruplets gets exposed for dating the golden boy of the grid sends the internet into chaos

fc; lani pliopa

warnings; age gap ( 6 yrs ), hate comments

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote

note; requested !

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername; my real reaction to being stalked and having my relationship exposed

charles_leclerc: ahhh chérie you’re too funny 😂

yourusername: some may say i am the funniest quadruplet tysm my love 😁🥰

nicolassturniolo: HOLD YOUR HORSES MISSY yourusername

username: i love her sm

username: she’s so😭😭

christophersturniolo: y/n come home NEOWWWWWWW🤬

yourusername: no i’m warm in bed w my boyf in monaco 😇😇

matthew.sturniolo: SO THATS WHY U KEPT GOING TO MONACO??? 😟😟

nicolassturniolo: group meeting NOW. aSAP

username: did THEY NOT KNOW???

yourusername: if they did , you all would’ve found out within 1 hr of me telling them 🥸🥸

username: LMAOO

username: girl……

username: tbh she doesn’t seem like a good fit for charles, all of his gf’s have been models and she’s just an influencer😭

username: i thought the same thinggg, all she does is eat in her car and say stupid shit w her brothers 💀💀

username: she’s so unserious wtf

username: she’s so unprofessional why tf is charles dating someone like her

username: i know! i assumed he’d be w someone private and a model! not someone like y/n😭😭

yourbestfriend: so true bestie liked by yourusername !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, and others !

charles_leclerc: my one and only love. the only woman who truly makes me happy and frankly, if you all were truly my fans then you’d be happy that i found the best woman in this universe. she never fails to leave me in tears from laughter. she never fails to make my heart flutter from a simple kiss on the cheek. she’s my whole world. je t'aime, chérie❤️❤️

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: chaaaaaa☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

yourusername: i love uuuuuuu soooooooo much☹️💓💓💓💓 ur the best man itw , i couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend !!!!

charles_leclerc: i love u alwayssss❤️

nicolassturniolo: best man….. u shared a womb w 3 i’d say we’re wayyyyt cooler

yourusername: charles_leclerc don’t mind nick, he’s just annoyed i didn’t tell them earlier abt u

matthew.sturniolo: yes i am annoyed too u fake bitch yourusername

christophersturniolo: WE’RE ALL ANNOYED😒😒😒

username: I LOVE THE STURNIOLO QUADRUPLETS DYNAMIC😭😭😭

yourusername: my real reaction when cha posted this : 🥺🥹😭 liked by charles_leclerc !

yourbestfriend: can confirm i was there she cries

username: get u a man who will defend u like charles liked by charles_leclerc and yourusername !

username: she’s scute everyone is just bitter 😕

username: y’all don’t get her like i do💯💯💯

username: besides, y/n is an ADULT, she’s probably more mature than her brothers who cares if she’s 6 yrs younger !!!!

yourusername: so true tysm bestie i am more mature than my brothers 😁😁

matthew.sturniolo: oh you bitch😒

yourusername: matthew.sturniolo keep talking or else u won’t get paddock tickets😒

username: y/n has always been HER💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

username: you can never make me hate them ‼️

[cupcakeinat0r]

A Nerdy middle-aged loser Miguel w a dad bod who teaches your genetics class.

He has a huge crush on you even though he knows he shouldn’t but how tf couldn’t he????

With the way you always walk in a minute or two late, making the whole class look at you as you strut in with your quiet “so sorry!” and your cute little outfits that show off the best parts of your body.

Miguel’s eyes would follow you and the way you set down your bag, whipping out your computer, ready to absorb all the knowledge that Prof. O’Hara has to offer like a sponge. He usually has to stand behind his podium because watching you hang onto every single one of his words with those parted, glossy lips and curious eyes made him embarrassingly hard.

Or the way you took notes, your cute little organization of colors and annotations. Your kindness in giving notes to your peers because you wanted to see everyone succeed. Even though you may not have looked like it, you were a smarty pants, too. And he found that extremely hot.

During his lecture, he’ll sometimes catch you applying lip gloss or fixing your hair in your compact mirror and think to himself how gorgeous you are and how lucky your boyfriend that you totally already have is.

Cuz there’s no way he could pull someone like you. Those days are over for him. Plus, you were way out of his league.

But he can’t help but have a sliver of hope every time you leave class with an adorable smile and small wave.

“Thank you so much, Professor O’Hara! Great class today!!”, your praise never ceasing to make him slightly flustered on the inside.

Before you, he totally fucked his own hand like everyday. He’s a lonesome man. But now that you were in his life? That man goes home everyday, imagining his had is your luscious, tight cunt, replaying your cute voice in his head over and over again.

What he has no idea is that his praise has the same effect on you.

Anytime you had a question or were worried that you weren’t understanding a concept, Miguel would comfort you, with the most gentle words and voice.

He was such a cute man. It’d be so easy to praise him and baby him, telling him he’s sooo smart and such a good teacher.

His well-kept black hair w tiny hints of gray throughout, his black rimmed square glasses, his little cashmere sweater + button up combos that hugged around his broad chest, enormous biceps, and pudgy belly. He was sooo dreamy. He made it so hard to focus.

You’d go up to his desk after class needing clarification on a topic. He’d tell you to sit down, eager to help you with the class (or anything ever, he’d do anything for you if it meant keeping you).

His cologne would fill your nose as he bends over the table, a strand of hair falling on his forehead, pushing his glass up his nose as he towers over you as he explains what ever it was you were confused about.

It never helped because you never caught a single word. You were too busy imagining his soft stomach rubbing against your back as he bends you over the table, plowing you while saying those sweet words of encouragement into your ear.

And those veiny, hairy arms and hands wrapped around your waist as he bounces you on his fat cock, making those adorable glasses of his fog up.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re doing great, as always.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart.”

“I know, mama, It’s a hard concept to grasp, but you’ll get it. I know it.”

It made you scream on the inside. You wanted so badly to be a good student for him so that he could talk to you this way every single class.

Pt.2 here!

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

[nouearth]

double-stuffed.

peter parker x male reader x jaime reyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he was selfish. He needed more of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was indeed something way worse than having blue balls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

It was all his fault—Peter’s. 

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

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

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

He was furiously jealous.

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

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

For Jaime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter, who Jaime could never be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That he actually found Peter attractive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They loved sexually tormenting you.

“Wait. Guys, I was just kidding—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You breathed.

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

You trusted them.

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

And you let Peter in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To new beginnings.”

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

“To new beginnings...”

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

[winwintea]

dreamies as your flight seatmate + ratings

PAIRING ▸ boyfriend!dreamies x reader 

TAGS ▸ none, crack, established relationship, haechans is the worst someone drop him out of the plane please

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸inspired by an insta post i saw for 127 and thought the dreamies deserved their own version.

Mark Lee

mark and you have 3 hours on this flight, so get ready for 3 hours of straight yapping from mark lee himself. he’s gonna show you pictures he has saved on his phone and goes into every single detail about the photo. you honestly just want to chill and listen to music, but if it seems like he’s given up, 5 minutes later he’ll bring up another subject. even if you’re gonna try to fall asleep he’ll wake you up, “yo, did you hear what i just said?” and you can’t get mad at him, who wants to see him sad? (4/10 seatmate, sometimes cooks, most of the time idk what he’s talking about)

Huang Renjun

renjun is probably one of those insane people on planes. he can get through the whole flight not talking to a single person, not listening to any music at all, not even looking out the window, just staring straight forward, lost in his own thoughts. if the flight map is available he’ll watch it for fun, otherwise he can pretty much entertain himself for however long the flight is. renjun would even read the safety manual for fun??? however if you needed him for anything, or if you wanted to watch a movie he’d be down you just need to ask, otherwise he’s gonna be in his own zone. (6/10 seatmate since he’s insane, but points only bc he’ll do anything if you ask him too)

Lee Jeno

jeno would be in your personal space, BUT IT’S NOT HIS FAULT DON’T BLAME HIM. he’d take up the armrests too but that’s because his arms are so big… and you wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable. and lowkey you’re fine with the personal space invasion thing too cause he smells good. (you’re coping) and maybe during the middle of the flight he’ll put the armrest up and hold you in a big hug, just so you can feel more comfortable cause he feels bad for taking up so much room. “i hope this is comfortable enough for you, it’s just a few more hours, you can take a nap on my shoulder or legs if you want” (7/10 seatmate, he feels bad and i would feel guilty if i gave him anything under a 6)

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is an armrest hogger… and he doesn’t even need to. instead of talking to you though, he’ll be on his phone the whole entire trip, watching tiktoks OUT LOUD on his phone. you honestly wanted to watch a movie with him, but you aren't even going to consider it now. and when you catch him peeking over your shoulder trying to watch whatever tv show you’re watching, you give him an annoyed look, and turn the device so you can’t see him. (-127/10 seatmate, just wait until he takes off his shoes cause then you’re both getting kicked off by the stewardess)

Na Jaemin

jaemin is the embodiment of the BEST seatmate ever. he’s always checking in on you, making sure you have ample leg room, let’s you use the armrests even if you don’t want to. he brought a whole bunch of snacks to for you two to share and snack on. downloaded a bunch of movies and tv shows for the ride, but if you don’t want to watch a movie, that’s fine. want to sleep? he brought a neck pillow. want to just talk? he can do that. (10/10 seatmate this is why i have high standards in men)

Zhong Chenle

chenle’s company could either go one or two ways. one, he could spend the whole entire flight watching the basketball game with the third person in your row that somehow was also a golden state warriors fan? to which… fuck him cause how tf did you become a third wheel? or two, he and you spend the whole entire flight just shit talking the other passengers on the plane with each other. chenle and you would probably be whispering to each other and giggling away. (3/10 cause the first outcome is more likely. we know even if there’s no other person to watch it with, as long as there’s a game on he’s watching.)

Park Jisung

jisung… it’s a little too quiet… and a little too tense. the mood is almost way too awkward? “jisung… you can talk to me you know?” you turn towards him, and his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “oh i wasn’t sure if you… wanted to talk or… maybe you were gonna sleep-“ you shush him with your finger, and lay your head upon his shoulder. His whole body begins to relax and he no longer feels cooped up in the seat like he was at first, “Whatever we do, let’s do it together alright?” (8/10 seatmate, very awkward, originally it’s way too close for his comfort but he gets into it and will do anything you want <3)

[lunas-side-anime-blog]

NSFW JJK Icks bc being horny for fictional characters is embarrassing and I'm putting an end to it rn

(obvi the students are aged up to 21ish, minors should gtfo! also pls feel free to request some more funny/slice-of-life headcanons, I'm on break and so bored)

general jjk icks: HERE

(yuji, megumi, nobara, gojo, nanami, toji, yuta, inumaki, maki, choso)

Yuji

the type of guy who will ask “do you wanna switch positions'' instead of just doing it. and consent is fair like he’s just checking if you're comfortable but he’ll get too ponderous about it? like he’ll be mumbling in your ear, “should we switch? maybe on your tummy? but wait didn’t you say you had a stomach ache earlier? ooh, we also need to wrap up in like ten I got a thing with megumi, maybe you can ride me rq and I’ll eat you out? which reminds me, what are we doing for dinner because-” like sir why are you dialoguing while inside me??😐

Megumi

keeps his socks on during sex. there, I said it. feel like he has bad blood circulation idk.

Nobara

pillow princess who won’t kiss you after going down on her. like dude, it’s your own taste and they just made you cum, give them a smooch tf😡

Gojo

has an established relationship with your genitalia. when he’s down there he'll talk to it casually and if you try to get him to stop he’s like, “can you bud out, me and your pussy/dick are having a moment here🤨” also feel like he’s the type to point out that you missed a spot while shaving when giving you head…😔

Toji

forgets the safeword like he’ll find it funny you're just shouting a random word out over and over again and he’s like “tf does pineapple have to do with thi-OH SHIT”

Nanami

has fallen asleep during sex so. many. times. you're gonna have to give him a five hour energy drink or something before a long night of sex. i don't believe any of that smut, you guys are just projecting bc i’m sorry this man is old and overworked👴🏼

Yuta

does the winnie the pooh thing (shirt on, no pants) and insists you guys do it under the covers. i think you guys have gotten walked in on once and he’s still traumtized :(

Inumaki

makes comments about your taste… he’ll just be like  “ur a lil watery today, u good?😛” JAIL why are are you taking notes?

Maki

will absolutely throttle your shit in the bedroom and then just roll over and fall asleep immediately. maki wouldn’t know aftercare if it sat on her face.

Choso

asks if you feel good like every three seconds. also think he’d have a cringe sex playlist to get you in the mood and it’s just like the weekend and old drake or something, but prob doesn't pay for spotify prenium so every once and a while there's an AD LMFAOOO

[nqify]

AHHH I’m so happy I found ur quaritch account! I’ve been dying in lack of quaritch fics so tysm for ur service. I was fed. Also headcannon for quaritch w a shy/ naturally submissive reader? I feel like he be surprised to someone NOT being a brat against him. If u wanna, ty and have a great day?

GIRL U ARE ONTO SMTH AND I LOVE IT!! shy!sub s/o headcanons. — miles quaritch ☆

pairings. na’vi!miles quaritch. fem!reader

content warnings. daddy kink. lil spit play. lots of dirty talk.

note. idk if this is good or not anon!!! so if you want me to change anything feel free to ask

this guys deals with so many brats on the daily!! his coworkers, his boss, the mf Lyle. He just hates having to put people in line all the time this guys deals with so many brats on the daily!! his coworkers, his boss, the mf Lyle. He just hates having to put people in line all the time

so when he meets you, it’s like a breathe of fresh air. Your naturally submissive, listening to everything he tells you to do, “hey, y/n, could you grab that for me?” And without complaining or whining you nod your head, “yes, sir.” This dude is pussy whipped already

even without all the devils tango, just doing what he says gets him going. He’s so used to ppl not following his orders, when u come along and start submitting to him, this GUY WILL NOW PREY ON U FR

when y’all start dating, he starts to notice how easily you get shy, especially with his words, “hey pretty, how are you?” your cheeks are burning up. This dude will find smth to make you flustered. he’ll give u little neck and forehead kisses to just to see how red you get from his touch. it’s fr driving him mad.

let’s just say your sitting on his lap in public, your horny asf and this guy will not give u attention. You begin to slowly grind your ass on him, he takes notice. As much as he would love take you right then and there, he wanted to test out if you’d rlly listen to him in a situation like this.

Miles pulls you by your waist, your back now hitting his chest. you could feel his hot breathe against your ear, he nibs at it a little before going in and saying, “uh, uh baby, behave”

And your ass listens. You don’t move or fight him in that matter. This guy is shocked. His ears perk up at ur submissiveness. He most def wanna fuck u more now. He’d try to keep his cool and move to ur ear again, “such a good girl for me, guess who’s going to get a reward when they get home” YOU ARE BITCH!!..

girls!! now we getting juicy!! just imagine miles pounding into you, his cock reaching every spot, making you an absolute mess!! This fucker wanna test out the waters again!! “open ur mouth for me, ma” and ofc, as a good girl U DID!! why is this guy so stunned. This most definitely triggers smth in him, you thought he was going hard before?? yeah girl no. He’s now drilling your shit, he’s reaching in deep. Not surprised if he touching your cervix now

he brings his pointer and middle finger to your bottom lip and slightly drags your mouth open a little. and then, BOOM he spits in your mouth. and ofc, you swallow it. THE FACT that he didn’t have to tell you to do that, his dick is twitching and aching for u girl.

since u submit to him so easily, this guy WILL praise you, and I mean it. You’d be taking his dick in your mouth and this fucker will not stop being so vocal towards you, “f-fuck, good girl, such a good girl” or when it’d be your first times together and ur taking his big dick he’d just praise tf outta you, “look at you mama, making daddy so proud and letting him stretch you out, s-shit” creaming as we speak!!!.

bc ur ass is so shy, he will try anything and I mean anything to get you all flustered in the bed room!! this means with his words, his touch, his movements! ANYTHING .

he’ll have u spread out on the bed, hair all messy and ur lips all puffy and pink. Your hands would be covering your face, hiding your embarrassment as you laid there, fully naked. And ofc, miles would be towering over you, this guy is 9’5 for god sake!! Even though he’s seen you naked so many times, He’d still find it so so cute how flustered you are.

He would grab both your hands and pin them above your head,“no need to be so shy baby, lemme see all of you” his tail is wagging like a dog at this point. He secretly likes how u get so shy, the fact that he gets to ruin it MAKES HIM BOOMBOOM baby making time.

bc this guy is a certified dirty talker, he will and I REPEAT!!!, he will say shit to make you embarrassed.

Y’all are literally in public and this fucker becomes behind you, grinds his bugle into your back and says, “can’t wait to fuck this pretty pussy when we get home” u froze. or when he’s annoying you a lil and you just can’t help whining out, “miles, ur so annoying” he be grinning. “that’s not what u said last night baby” get ready for him to mock tf outta you, “weren’t you all like, ah, ah, pls daddy, feels so good!!??” “want more!! ah! so big fuck” ur so fucking embarrassed now omg.

one last thing, eye contact. this fucker loves it - rlly gets the gears going. So when he’s eating your pretty pussy and looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, U GO CRAZY. you try to not look back at him, constantly dragging your gaze to smth else. But oh no, he will not take that

he pulls away from your pussy and grabs your chin, “look at me baby, cmon I know you love it - don’t you like it when daddy fucks you with his tongue?? you don’t want me to make u cum, huh?” your 100% looking at him now. like girl.

requests are still open!! don’t be shy, gimme ur fantasies rn!!!!

[sserasin]

who do you think in enha legal line would talk about your sex life to the other members?

MOST

HEESEUNG. heeseung is always bragging that he made you squirt or a new thing yall tried and gives so much details the others gotta eventually excuse themselves to get rid of their boner😭

jake would bring it up when theyre talking abt their own sex life (or lack of😭 losers), hitting them all with the hottest shit they’ve ever heard of and then not speaking about it anymore/pretending like he didn’t say what he just said.

maybe jungwon but not to all of them maybe only one like jay, probably to ask a question about a certain position or kink and then he ends up giving context and then he ends up telling him. Every. fucking. thing. but his lips are closed otherwise.

in my fantasies (LMFAO) sunghoon would but i don’t think so either. think he’d think the loud noises and marks would be enough to tell them it’s good. he doesn’t need validation from anyone but you.

sunoo wouldn’t. sunoo would probably allude to it but never go into detail, leaving everyone high and dry lmao.

i feel like jay wouldn’t want them to think of you that way? and if he gets asked he’s like ?? why tf do u wanna know…

LEAST

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[modawg]

it low-key pisses me off that nico can’t get over this like hero complex pedestal he has percy on like even after his crush is over and done with he’s still over here “maybe bob didn’t call y’all bc he thought you wouldn’t answer” or whatever tf like boy be so fr we talking abt the boy who’s fatal flaw is literally loyalty?? the boy who literally took on the great prophecy once he found out someone might die so YOUR dumbass wouldn’t be the one to do so??

why is every mistake that percy makes suddenly inexcusable

i get it the lack of trust prolly comes from the trauma of losing bianca but he didn’t even promise that he’d actually bring her back he said he would TRY and he DID bro was 14 and on a quest he wasn’t even supposed to be on why not be pissed at artemis or the hunters who actually put bianca on the fucking mission or thalia who was also on the mission or annabeth who caused the whole mission to begin with

like i genuinely just never understood that like i understand nico is a kid and there are reasons to look up to percy yes but bro has known him for going on 3-4 years when are we gonna realise he is infact also a kid who is also in a shitty situation with also shitty odds who has also lost people and just wants to live his life

it’s even better bc i believe nicos fatal flaw is holding grudges ? it’s so good i hate it like please just be friends i beg you

[vamp4kaulitz]

BRO OMG I LOVE YOUR MAKEUP SEX WITH TOKIO HOTEL BUT CAN YOU PRETTY PLEASE WRITE THEM (SEPARATE) WITH A READER WHO IS RLLY FUCKING STUBBORN

TOKIO HOTEL W A STUBBORN S/O

no pacific pronouns can be seen as any gender

THANK FOR THIS REQUEST POOKIEEE IDK IF YOU WANTED SMUT OR FLUFF SO I DID SMUT. IF U WANT FLUFF PLS REQUEST AGAIN WHEN REQUESTS ARE OPEN😊

2008 and up

BILL

I heard bill loves people are kinda challenging in the relationship, so he would definitely chuckle at your stubbornness.

He probably wouldn’t admit it but he definitely got turned on at least once by your stubbornness 😭.

Now if he had a bad day and you had something to complain about to him, trust you will be dealt with😭.

“Bill you said you would be home earlier than this. It’s almost fucking 3 are you out of your mind?!”

“Schatz I had a bad day today so I went to drink. I’m still in a bad mood please don’t argue with me right now.”

Of course you are stubborn you would keep pushing his buttons while following him upstairs, trying to prove your point.

“Bill are you serious right now?! You always fucking—“ Your words would be stopped by him pining you to the bed.

“I already fucking told you I had a bad day but no, you wanted to be a fucking brat and push my buttons like you always do.”

This man would pound tf out of you, he would bend you over and push your head into the pillow. You couldn’t even talk any when you would try he would tease you.

“What was that? Hm? I can’t hear you, speak up if you want something.”

Begging him to slow down? Nuh uh aint finna happen.

“Huh? You want me to slow down? Mm, you remember how you were acting like a little brat earlier? Mm, I think I shouldn’t even be fucking you right now, I should leave you to beg me to fuck you.”

TOM

Tom is kinda stubborn himself, he would literally be stubborn back 😭.

He would literally ignore you yelling at him and walk upstairs, pretending to not care and you would follow him while yelling.

“Tom don’t you fucking walk away from me, you do this every time we have a argument! You act like you can’t fucking listen for once, you always walk anyway!”

He’d literally snap at you💔.

“I walk away because your stubborn ass wanna do too much, I get tired and stressed too Y/N! Your not the only one.”

“Me stubborn? I’m being fucking stubborn for bringing up problems YOU caused? Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”

You guys would definitely be huge brats to each other. Stubborn and stubborn arguing isn’t the best, since you both get pretty loud when arguing.

“I’m done arguing with you meine liebe. Now please, leave me alone while I cool down.” He would try to reason out but you being you, you couldn’t let him walk away so easily.

You push at him until he pinned you on the bed, grabbing your chin with two fingers. You would be taken aback but secretly enjoy the lust in his eyes.

“Your such a brat you know? Always yapping about some shit. You should really learn to know your place.”

He would FUCK the stubbornness out of you, face down ass up. He would be a bit rough, pounding into you nonstop. You would beg him to slow down, but would he listen? Nope.

“T-Tom!! Slow down..!” You managed to let out but he ignored you and only increased his pace. You wiggled around making Tom grab your waist.

“No, this is what you get for being such a fucking stubborn person!” He slapped your ass while thrusting into you ruthlessly.

He would pretend to not hear you and purposely push deeper to make it seem like he didn’t hear you whining and begging for him to slow down.

GEORG

Now..

Georg will put you in your place‼️.

He will definitely be a little stubborn back but definitely would also let you have your way. And if you’d be super stubborn about something he will glare at you and you’d shut up.

Georg can handle your stubbornness, but if he’s in a bad mood expect to not get what you want‼️.

Let’s say one day georg came from a afterparty a little drunk, and Georg told you earlier he would come straight home and not go to the afterparty, so your stubbornness kicked in.

“Georg, I thought you said we weren’t gonna go to the afterparty?”

He would look at you a little zoned out but he would answer you. “I’m sorry love, the band wouldn’t listen to me when I said I was gonna go.” You would definitely get a bit heated, but you tried not to just lash out on him because he was tipsy.

“Then why didn’t you tell someone and leave when you got there? Georg it’s literally 4 in the morning. I was fucking worried! And you are out getting drunk like I’m not here??”

“Schatz, I got a little carried away okay? Right now it’s not the time to argue. It’s 4 and everyone in the neighborhood is probably asleep. Let’s talk in the morning.” Georg tried to reason but you weren’t having it.

You kept pushing his buttons but maintaining your voice so you would yell too loud for everyone to hear, while georg got some water to sober up.

Georg got tired of it and put his cup down angrily, his hands showing veins for how hard he was gripping the cup and pinned you onto the couch.

“You know, I always let to have your way, but you like to get carried away. Such a brat, I should punish you for how you’ve been acting towards me.”

He would go SO slow, he would make you beg for him to speed up. He would go slower if you tried to touch yourself or move your hips. He would grip your waist and tell you not to move.

“Such a brat, trying to please yourself? I shouldn’t even be fucking you, I should make you beg for me to pound the fuck out of you.”

He would tease you, and you’d finally give in🤭..he would definitely tease you about giving into him.

“Oh? What’s this? What happened to my bratty Y/N? I wouldn’t expect you to listen to me so easily. Shows how much of a slut you are.”

GUSTAV

Gustav is so sweet omg😭 he’ll give into your stubbornness, and you’d sometimes feel bad because he would always do whatever you say.

I have a feeling like he’s literally angry and rude to people when he’s tired especially after a long day with rehearsals so he would always go shower and sleep.

But one day you just didn’t want to put up with it and you lashed out on him. He didn’t expect it at all.

“Gustav? We need to talk.” You called out to him, sounding it a bit serious in which made him kinda nervous.

“Yes schatz?”

“I feel like we are drifting apart somehow. Like, it’s like you come home and shower, eat, and sleep. We barely talk.”

“I’m sorry love. I’m really tired, can we talk about this later?”

You were so angry. Like he js straight up ignored you trying to communicate with him after weeks.

“Gustav what the fuck? Are you seriously just gonna ignore me after fucking trying to COMMUNICATE with you??”

You’d yell at him while he walked to the room, not caring if the neighbors heard. He’d ignore you but you said something that just pissed him the fuck off.

“The fuck did you just say?” He’s turn around and you’d stop in your tracks. “You fucking heard me. Loud and clear.”

He’d grab you and throw you on the bed but not too hard.

To me Gustav is the type of guy to take out his anger on you in bed😉.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see if you can say that with my fucking cock inside of you, pounding you.”

Gustav is a soft dom, but he can be rough when he wants to🤭. He’d grab your hair while you take him from behind, whispering into your ear.

“You wanted this so bad huh? Look at your little hole taking my cock. It’s begging for more.”

He’d thrust into you faster every time you ask him to slow down, he’d slap your ass while you shake and cum on his cock.

Gustav would definitely go slow, making you beg and whine for more even when he was deep inside.

You’d cry out for him but he would ignore the fuck out of you.

“Gustav please! Go faster!”

“Hmm..nah…I wanna tease you more, see how long you’ll last hm? You think you can last for me? Hm?”

“Fuck, I know I said I was tired but you turned on something inside of me that I can’t turn off, liebe.”

pic credit tokiosaturn0 dm to remove if owner only!

taglist: @bored0writer @saumspam

pls lmk if u wanna be on my tag list 🤗 AND SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO DO!! 💔 requests closed rn because I’m finishing up some!

[avasmain69]

𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐏 𝐇𝐂𝐒

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ: ᴍɪᴋᴇʏ, ʙᴀᴊɪ, ᴛᴀᴋᴇᴍɪᴄʜɪ, ʜᴀɴᴍᴀ

SUMMARY: Just would they like having you on their lap, how they react when you sit on their lap, etc.

MANJIRO SANO

Mikey would absolutely be the type to have you sat up all pretty on his lap during a Toman meeting.

I also feel like he would do it in a possessive way, like to show everyone who you belong to.

He will randomly pull you down to sit on him and it doesn’t matter where you guys are at, he doesn’t care.

Draken will definitely sit there and roll his eyes at Mikey’s behavior and wonder how tf you put up with him.

Omg Mikey would definitely love for you to sit on him and feed him and pretty much baby him.

Anyway 10/10 would let you sit on his lap!

BAJI KEISUKE

The first time that you just plopped yourself into his lap, he thought he was going to have a heart attack.

Like his face was beet red and he had no idea where to put his hands!

He eventually settles his grip around your waist though to pull you closer into him.

The more your relationship progresses, the more he would get used to you always being on his lap.

Later on he would start initiating it by shyly asking if you would wanna sit on him instead of in a different chair.

9/10, he wouldn’t shove you away but he also wouldn’t know how to act at first.

TAKEMICHI HANAGAKI

Oh god, Takemichi would freak out the first time you sat on his lap and wrapped your arms lovingly around his neck.

Physically I see him not having much more than a blush and that one weird face he makes in awkward situations.

However, mentally, he is screaming.

He’s not fully used to being this close to you, although he definitely wouldn’t hate it.

I feel like him being able to wrap his arms around your waist and placing his head in the crook of your neck would bring him a sense of comfort.

He would see it as a way of knowing that you’re still with him and you’re not going to leave anytime soon.

7/10 once he calms down a bit.

HANMA SHUJI

We all know this mfk would have nothing less than his pretty baby sat up on his lap like some kind of trophy.

He’s definitely possessive and anytime he thinks you’re not giving him enough of your attention or giving too much to someone else, he’ll just pull you down onto his lap for some cuddle time.

I personally see him as a very physically affectionate lover, his hands would be all over you.

When he’s trying to pay attention during a meeting or when he’s talking to Kisaki he’d most likely settle his hands around your waist, that way he wouldn’t get too distracted by your presence.

He would probably be the first one to initiate it tbh.

9/10 he can get kinda handsy when you’re on him.