#after all... the guy IS just a talking head now...

[planetaryupscaled]

Claiming Naivety

Male OC x Eunchae

Tags: 15k, smut, first time, creampie, oral, anal, gb, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Eunchae was enjoying breakfast with her sister on a Saturday morning. They always made time like this to hang out. After all, they were the only family they each had. Eunchae's sister had dedicated her life to giving her all the love she could.

Eunchae, now that she was eighteen, had come to appreciate all her sister had done for her. The past year of her sister’s life was split between working and caring for her. But now that she was an adult herself and about to head to college in a few months, she hoped her sister would make time for herself again. Find new hobbies, make friends, and maybe even find a romantic relationship.

Eunchae herself hasn’t explored the romantic world either, but for different reasons. She dedicated herself to her studies as well as her love of art and music. While she may have lacked boyfriends, she made up for it with friends. In particular, she had four close friends: Eunwoo, Doyun, Chanwoo, and Minho. Her sister had teased her in the past for having four guys as best friends and predicted she would end up dating them. However, Eunchae asserted that wasn’t going to happen, proving herself correct. These guys were her friends, and no other funny business had ever occurred between them.

“Are your friends coming over tonight to hang out again?” her sister asked. Eunchae nodded. Her house was a frequent hangout spot for them. Her sister enjoyed having her friends around, too, and they often called her the ‘cool sister.’

“I’m glad to hear it. Now that you guys are adults, I can’t help but notice how handsome they are,” she said with a sly smile.

“Unnie! Gross! Those are my friends you’re talking about,” Eunchae said, shocked that her sister would comment on her friend’s appearance.

“Relax, I’m just saying. They wouldn’t be interested in me anyway. I’m older, but can you imagine...,” she said, looking off into the distance.

“No! I can’t and won’t imagine that. Can we please talk about something else,” Eunchae said in protest.

Hearing that her sister even entertained the idea of being anything resembling romantic with her friends was beyond embarrassing. She appreciated that her sister hadn’t had any contact with a man in years, but she could start by dating men her age.

However, Eunchae calmed herself down; her sister was just teasing. Even if she was interested in her friends in that way, as her sister said, she’s older than them. Eunchae even doubted how much her friends were interested in romantic encounters at the moment. None of them had girlfriends or gone on dates, as far as she knew. The five of them just wanted to have some fun.

That evening, the four guys arrived together at Eunchae’s. She had made plans for them to play a board game. “Hey guys, I got the game set up in the backroom. I even added in the bird expansion, so there are even more bird powers you can use!” Eunchae excitedly said.

But as she led them to the room where she expected them to spend the next hours playing the game, the four boys were momentarily distracted by the arrival of her sister. “Hello, boys! It’s so nice to see you all. I trust you all are staying fit as ever?” she said to them.

“We try our best, Noona,” Eunwoo said in a flirty tone that alarmed Eunchae.

“You’re looking fit yourself,” Doyun added.

“Oh, stop it, you guys. You’re going to tempt me into doing something bad...,” she said. What the hell does that mean, Eunchae thought. She started pushing her friends down the hall, away from her sister.

Eunchae said, “Come on, I need to explain to you guys how the egg-laying mechanism works in the game.”

Finally, distancing herself from her sister's odd behavior, Eunchae got to work walking them through the board game she intended for all five of them to play over the next few hours. Ten minutes later, she was in the middle of explaining how food selection works. “If the dice show the same food, you can re-roll. But that’s optional,” she said as she showed them an example.

"Wow, Noona looked amazing! Has she been hitting the gym, Eunchae?" Minho asked, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“She’s been taking walks more, I guess. Anyway, you can only take food when you do the collection action...,” she said, changing the subject back to the game before getting interrupted once more.

“She was being really friendly with us. Even flirty,” Chanwoo remarked.

“Yeah, she kept talking about how handsome you guys were earlier today. She even wondered out loud if you guys were interested in her. It was pretty embarrassing to hear. Can you imagine!” Eunchae said with a laugh. She felt bad making fun of her sister like this, but her behavior was so odd today.

“Your sister interested in us?” Doyun asked, surprised.

“That’s not what I said. She was wondering if you all were interested in her. God, I feel cringy even telling you guys about it,” Eunchae said, clarifying. “But let’s talk about how nectar is used.” However, the boys were becoming less interested in the game.

“Dude, she said we were handsome. She hasn’t been with anyone lately. Do you think we might have a shot with her?” Doyun asked the group.

Eunchae’s eyes lit up in horror. These guys were actually interested in her sister? “Whoa, guys. She’s my sister. Can we not talk about her like this?” she asked.

“We’re not teasing, Eunchae. I don’t know about the other guys, but I think your sister is a stone-cold fox. I’m sorry, but if she is attracted to me, I’m taking my shot,” Doyun said.

The other three voiced their strong agreement. “Let’s go talk to her. She might be on board for anything,” Eunwoo suggested. This prompted the four boys to stand up.

Eunchae ran to the door and blocked it. Their willingness and her sister’s flirty demeanor tonight created a bad combination. She didn’t need her friends and her sister engaging in... funny business.

“Guys, wait. I’m asking you, as your long-term friend here, please don’t go flirt with my sister,” Eunchae said, appealing to the four guys.

They all looked at each other before Doyun replied.

“To be clear, we’re not looking to flirt. Let’s stop beating around the bush here and be clear. We want to have sex with your sister, and we think we have a real shot tonight at actually making this happen.”

While Eunchae didn’t say this, she agreed with her friends. With the way her sister has been talking today, she might let her friends seduce her. Eunchae did not need to have her friends turning her sister into their fuck buddy.

“Don’t do this, guys. She’s my sister,” Eunchae said desperately.

“We’re not asking you to watch or anything, Eunchae. We’re adults now. Your sister is an adult woman—a woman with desires and the ability to give consent. I’m sorry that you are uncomfortable with the situation, but you don’t have the right to interfere if everyone involved is on board starting a sexual relationship,” Minho explained.

She understood his point, but her point was she didn’t want her sister fucking her friends.

They started crowding Eunchae, trying to get past. The second they do, there would be nothing stopping them from starting a five-way orgy with her sister. Her mind raced with thoughts of what she could say to convince them. Suddenly, a viable idea occurred to her, and she voiced it.

“How about I flash you guys my underwear?” Eunchae blurted out.

All four of them halted their attempt to leave the room, and her cheeks flushed red. She couldn’t believe the words that had come out of her mouth. She nearly spoke up, declaring it to be a joke, but she had managed to stop them.

“Really? Or are you just fooling us?” Doyun asked skeptically.

Eunwoo was also in doubt. “You’ve never been one for showing off. You wear a t-shirt and swim trunks over your one-piece bathing suit when we go to the pool.”

“I’m... not kidding. But only a quick flash! Just so you guys will calm down, and we can play the game,” Eunchae said with a shaky voice.

The four of them backed up and watched Eunchae with interest. They seemed to expect her to flash them right then and there. Eunchae’s mind raced with panicked thoughts. She had never done anything like this, and she worried she was opening a door she could never close. Would these guys expect her to do this again in the future? Would they start to see her as more than a friend? She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

But in the short term, she needed to do this. Their having sex with her sister would change their relationship far more than briefly seeing her underwear. As she felt her face heat up, Eunchae gripped the bottom of her sweater tightly. Closing her eyes, she quickly lifted her shirt, feeling the cooler air hit her stomach and upper body chest. She then pulled her sweater back down. They saw her bra, even if just for a second. It was done. She opened her eyes to the smiling faces of her friends, still staring at her chest, even though the underwear was now not visible.

“Okay. Let’s get back to the game,” Eunchae said in a quiet voice.

But the guys didn’t follow her back to the table. “You only showed us your bra. You still need to flash us your panties,” Minho said.

“What?” Eunchae said, turning around in shock. “I didn’t say anything about my panties. That’s asking too much, guys!”

They looked disappointed but understanding. “You don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Eunchae. We’ll come back after we’re done to start the game,” Minho said as, once again, the guys headed towards the door and into the welcoming arms of Eunchae’s sister.

“Okay, look!” Eunchae yelled as she lifted her skirt, showing the four guys her panties. They all spun around and witnessed her underwear for the first time. Only this thin fabric was between them and their female friend’s most intimate area.

Confident they had seen what they requested, she lowered the skirt back down, restoring her back into a decent state. “We need to see the back of your panties as well,” Doyun added.

“What? Why?” Eunchae asked the question even though she could guess why.

Were they really so interested in her body that they needed to see her in her panties from different angles? The guys didn’t answer, so rather than wait for them to start walking towards the door again, Eunchae rolled her eyes and turned around. Lifting her skirt yet again, the four men enjoyed yet another view of her body that no man has yet seen until today.

The flowing air she felt on her cheeks reminded her that this underwear didn’t cover as much of her as she would have liked. She let the skirt fall back into place and felt relieved this was done. She hoped her friends would agree not to speak of this embarrassing day again.

“Wow, that was pretty hot, Eunchae. I didn’t know you had an exhibitionist side to you like that,” Chanwoo replied, still thinking about his friend in this new, sexy light.

“I didn’t do it for any weird reason like that! I just did it to convince you guys not to go try and get with my sister!” Eunchae replied in protest.

“Eunchae... why would giving us a quick flash of your underwear stop us from fucking your sister? She’s going to show us a lot more than just two seconds of her panties,” Doyun pointed out. Eunchae couldn’t believe this. Had she just embarrassed herself for no reason?

“Well then, how about I strip to my underwear and stay that way for the evening,” she offered, her muscles tensing up as she thought how shameful this was going to be for her.

“I’d love that,” Minho said, taking a seat as he looked forward to a much longer view of his longtime female friend in her unmentionables. The others followed suit. Once again, the naive teenager found herself in a situation where her friends anxiously awaited her to expose her body to them.

“You guys don’t really want to see me in my underwear, do you?” she asked them with a nervous laugh. Her friends responded with enthusiastic nods as they eyed her body.

Seeing no other path forward except letting her friends seek out her horny sister, Eunchae’s shaky hands reached for the bottom of her sweater. As she pulled it up and felt her stomach get exposed, she told herself it was nothing they hadn’t already seen, albeit briefly. The sweater rose to her face, and she knew that once again, her bra, holding her ample breasts, was on display for her friends.

“Fantastic,” Eunwoo commented as she placed her top on the ground.

The young lady instinctively wanted to cover her chest, but she knew she needed to finish the job first. She turned to face her friends before starting to push her skirt down, as she didn’t want them to see her rear end. But both Doyun and Chanwoo walked behind her, making that plan null.

The skirt slid down over the cheeks of her butt as she was again reminded that these panties didn’t cover the entirety of her ass. Trying to avoid bending over, Eunchae let the skirt fall to the floor. Her task was completed, but she now faced the humiliation of playing the game all evening in this state. Her friends would be able to view almost all of her exposed body whenever they wanted. She felt like a tramp, but her sister would be free from the eager hands of these four familiar guys.

“I’ll stay like this if you guys promise not to look at me too much. Now getting back to the player boards...,” Eunchae said, desperate to get back to her instructions once again.

But as always, her friends interjected before she could continue. “Eunchae, this is really hot. But your sister is going to show us her whole body, not just tease us in her underwear,” Doyun pointed out.

“God, I can’t wait to see her tits. So big and juicy. Fuck...,” Chanwoo said while mimicking their shape with his hands.

“Stop describing my sister’s tits! Jesus! I stripped to my underwear, and you guys still aren’t satisfied. Throw me a bone here,” the young woman complained.

“I’m looking forward to throwing your sister my bone,” Minho remarked.

“Shut up!” Eunchae had never seen this side of her friends. Were they really this anxious to fuck someone? And why did that person have to be her sister? But she understood their point about seeing her sister naked, as weird as that point was to make, countering it would be insanity. She would have to show them something she hadn’t planned to reveal until she got married in her late thirties: her naked body.

“Maybe I...,” she started to say, but then lost her words. The four guys waited for her to finish her thought, but she continued to stammer.

“Maybe you what?” Chanwoo asked curiously.

“Eunchae, you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” If she wanted to keep these guys from knowing what her sister’s naked body looked like, she did, Eunchae thought.

“Maybe I am willing to show you guys more,” she said, finally getting her words out.

After a brief pause, the boys sought clarification. “Like your boobs?” Eunwoo asked.

“And maybe your pussy too? Your sister will certainly show us hers.” Doyun pointed out.

“You should get on a table and do a strip tease!” Chanwoo added.

“And then give us lap dances like our own personal stripper!” Minho said excitedly.

When Eunchae said she was willing to show more, she meant maybe a quick flash of her chest while keeping her nipples concealed possible. But before she could say anything, her friends turned this offer into her acting as a full-on stripper who showed every inch of her body and even sat in their laps. Any compromise she offered from here would only create disappointment that would drive them into the arms and other parts of her willing sister.

“Trust me, guys. You don’t want to see me naked. It’s not worth it. I’m not that attractive,” Eunchae said, vocalizing her self-doubts.

“Are you kidding? Seeing you naked has been a dream of mine since we met. But you have never shown any interest in that kind of stuff till now,” Doyun admitted. The other three were in total agreement. Eunchae was taken aback at this admission. Her friends thought about her naked? This was such a foreign concept to Eunchae. The thought of someone seeing her as a sex object was confusing. But she shook off this strange thought. She had a choice to make. Either strip nude for her friends or send them off to fuck her sister. The choice was clear, albeit incredibly embarrassing.

“Where do you want me to do this?” she asked as her four friends’ faces lit up with the realization that this was going to happen. They led her to the game table, where they pushed game pieces aside and helped her onto the table. Standing on the table, she realized how shameful of an angle these guys were going to have on her various... parts. But she was up here now, and backing down would spell an end to her sister’s innocence.

“Do you... guys have a preference on what I... start with,” she asked them as her hands moved back and forth between her bra and panties. She couldn’t bear to decide for herself. Whatever piece she thought about removing first would send an unintended message to her friends about her confidence in that part or would indicate that she wanted them to see this first or last. Let the guys decide.

But this proved to be folly. Half of them yelled for her to show her boobs first, while the other half demanded the sight of her naked pussy. Hearing both sides argue about what part of her body they wanted to see put Eunchae into a state of extreme agitation, and she found herself pulling her panties down without even realizing what she was doing. The arguing stopped instantly as her panties landed on the top of the table, and her bald pussy was put on display for all four men. In that instant, they became the first, second, third, and fourth men ever to see this sight.

“Holy shit Eunchae, you shave?” Eunwoo asked. Eunchae’s eyes looked at her private area with horror as she hadn’t considered this when she stripped.

“Yes... But only because I think it’s more hygienic. It’s not for any weird sexual thing, I promise.” She cried out as she covered her groin with her hands. “Stop looking at it!”

The guys complained that a stripper wouldn’t hide her nudity after stripping. “Stop calling me a stripper! That’s not what’s going on, and you know it!” Eunchae was getting flustered but knew her friends were trying to get a rise out of her.

“Keep going! Let’s see everything!” Chanwoo cheered.

“Do it, do it, do it,” Eunwoo started chanting as the others joined him. Half an hour ago, Eunchae was explaining to these guys how to place cards in the board game. Now, they were uniformly calling for her to remove the last piece of clothing she had on.

As she stood there with her hands at her crotch, the boys started to move to the other side of the table to get a view of her ass.

“Where are you going. Stop!” Eunchae cried. But soon, they were on all sides of her, and she was unable to prevent them from enjoying yet another aspect of her body.

After a few minutes of posing like she needed to pee, the teenager realized she couldn’t delay things any further.

“Fine! Just... I don’t know. Just don’t be weird,” she said, standing upright and removing her hands, exposing herself once more. All four men quickly rushed to view her womanhood again. She closed her eyes, and her hands went to her back. Despite having done this tens of thousands of times, her unsteady hands struggled to unhook her bra.

“Do you need help, Eunchae?” Chanwoo asked.

“No!” She cried. Getting stripped by her friends seemed even more shameful than stripping herself for them.

Finally, to her relief, she got it unhooked. But that relief was replaced with the horror that this meant her friends would now see her ample breasts as soon as she released her grip on the garment. She peeked out of one eye and saw all four long-time friends practically drooling over her chest in anticipation. As she debated her options, her shaky hands lost their grip, and before she knew it, her bra fell off. The weight of her boobs weighed on her chest, and at that moment, her friends came to know every intimate detail about her naked body.

After the accidental strip, Eunchae was frozen in place. The four guys were equally in shock as they studied the newly revealed source of their apparent long-time lust. The silence made Eunchae ask herself increasingly worried questions. Were they so quiet because her body is weird? Did they not like what they saw? Why did she now care if her friends liked her body or not? But the following sudden response of the men threw these negative thoughts out of her head.

“Holy shit, your tits are incredible!”

“Yeah, but how about that pussy? Damn!”

“I’ve got to see that ass again.”

“So... fucking... hot.”

All four of them simultaneously voiced their admiration for her body.

Eunchae became conflicted. Showing herself off like this was embarrassing, and she wished to get dressed again. But these compliments gave her feelings of warmth and pride—something she hadn’t felt before.

“I call first lap dance!” Chanwoo called out, breaking up the moment of self-discovery Eunchae was having.

“What? Lap dance? I’m not...,” she said, turning rapidly towards him. With her tits now free of the confines of clothing, they jiggled considerably. A fact that the guys noticed.

“You said you were going to be our stripper. Strippers give lap dances...” Chanwoo said as if the lap dance had already been agreed upon previously.

“I have been adamant that I am not your stripper. And it was your idea that I give lap dances. I never said I would!” Eunchae cried out. Her friends kept pushing the boundaries of this friendship at a quickening pace.

“That’s okay then. Thanks for letting us see your naked body, though. I can’t believe we are going to see you and your sister both naked on the same night,” Doyun said as he followed the others toward the door.

Eunchae was astounded at this. She had stripped fully naked for these guys, something she had never done before. And even with all that, they still wanted to seek out the sexual attention of her sister.

“Wait! I didn’t say I wasn’t willing to give lap dances,” she said, stopping her friends once again.

“Each of us can get one from you?” Eunwoo asked, seeking clarity.

The idea of rubbing her body against one of them was odd enough, but all four?

“Yeah...,” she said meekly.

Chanwoo moved a chair into the middle of the room, and one of the guys started playing music that was appropriate for a lap dance. Eunchae stood several feet away from her friend, still fully naked. A fact that she still couldn’t believe was true. She had never done anything like this, so she thought back to the various movies she had seen where the actresses gave someone a lap dance. Slowly, she started swaying her hips back and forth, which prompted loud cheers from the guys. Chanwoo’s eyes were locked on her tits which jiggled considerably even with Eunchae’s small movements.

“Come closer, Eunchae. Stand over my lap while you do that,” he said, waving her over. She tip-toed over slowly, hoping to keep as much distance as possible from her horny friend while she was in this nude state. Still, he beckoned her to continue until her tits were mere inches away from his face.

“Isn’t this a bit too close?” Eunchae asked.

“It’s a lap dance. You’re supposed to be as close as possible. Your sister would understand that,” Chanwoo said. Why would her sister know that, Eunchae wondered as her hip movements started up again. Her male friend was now close enough to see every detail of her tits. Weirder still was that he needed to lean his face in only a few inches to make contact with her chest. That thought got the inexperienced girl’s heart thumping.

Feeling emboldened by the erotic sight, Chanwoo reached out and put his hands on Eunchae’s bare hips.

“Chanwoo... what are you doing...,” Eunchae nervously asked him.

“It’s just your hips,” he replied.

The young man’s eyes diverted from her ample chest to her womanhood. In this embarrassing position, her pussy was situated just above his crotch. True, his parts were contained within his pants, but it was still in proximity to her very exposed parts. Her eyes were also drawn to an area in his pants that bulged out. She wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know that was. The sight of her nude body had given her friend, likely all of her friends, an erection. A response before today, she wasn’t sure anyone had ever prompted her body. As she stared, she became curious to see more, but shook that thought out of her head. All this time, Chanwoo continued to watch Eunchae’s pussy.

“Turn around. Let’s see that naked ass shake,” he said. Eunchae did as he asked, but she took note of the change in dynamic. Her friends weren’t asking her. They were now telling her what to do. She truly was their own personal stripper now. But again, she remembered why she was doing this. If not, her sister would be in this exact position now. Her nude body being drooled over by her friends, or worse.

After watching her cheeks shake back and forth for a few minutes, her friend had another command. “Bend over. All the way.”

Eunchae looked back at him with a scared look. “Bend over? But you’ll see... Do you really need to see me in such a state?” She asked. Chanwoo shrugged, but if she protested, he would probably bring up her sister again and her willingness to do almost anything. A fact she wasn’t sure was true, but rather not tested. Eunchae bent over, holding onto her friend’s knees for support. The flow of cold air on the newly exposed area told her what this position was doing. Chanwoo was getting a close-up view of her pussy from behind. Rustling sounds behind her also told her that the other three friends had joined him in enjoying this view. Every second in this state was humiliating, and it would take another four minutes before she was told she could stand up.

“My turn,” Minho announced, taking the seat that Chanwoo had just been in. Eunchae was being passed around from friend to friend like they all wanted a turn lusting over her. It made her feel used but wanted. Her mind was a storm of conflicting feelings. For now, she obeyed the lusty commands of her friends. All the while telling herself every sexual gaze or embarrassing pose, she did was one less than her sister would do later.

Minho had her sit on his lap, her back resting against his front.

“Don’t just sit there, move that butt into me. It’s a lap dance, after all,” he explained.

As her bare ass slid back and forth on his crotch, the feeling of his erect dick became unquestionably noticeable. While she had seen Chanwoo’s contained in his pants, with Minho, she was feeling with him. With her own ass, no less. Why was it that he felt no shame in getting felt up like this while she felt like she was being used? Where did this power dynamic arise from? But she did admit feeling his dick rest between her butt checks was an erotic and naughty sensation. But feelings that were overwhelmed by the shame she felt for acting in such a way.

“Turn around and face me. I want to see your tits as I feel you grind into my crotch,” he said with confidence. She turned around and sat on him while facing him.

“Would it kill you to say please? I’m still your friend, guys,” Eunchae complained as she started up lap grinding on him again.

“Please shake your tits in my face while your ass rubs against my dick,” Minho said.

Eunchae gave him an angry look, and he started laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! That was a joke. You’re right. I’m getting carried away. We’re just having fun.” Despite the apology, though, he didn’t pull back on his expectation that she continues to stimulate him with her nude ass.

As Minho sat there with her tits swaying close to his face, he placed his hands on her lower back. Slowly, they moved south until they rested just above the start of her cheeks. “Where are your hands going there, Minho?” the naked teenager asked her aroused friend.

“I was thinking about getting some hand full of your ass. Or should I hold off and wait until I get my hands on your sister’s?” He asked.

Eunchae was well aware that they were using her over-protective attitude toward her sister to get her to agree to more sexual things. But they seemed genuine in their desire to get with her sister, so she had to play along. Even if it meant her ass would now be open to the groping of a guy she had trusted for so long. “If you have to...,” she muttered.

Within the instant she said that his hands went straight to her ass and squeezed, prompting her to yelp out of surprise. He felt them in every way possible and manipulated them in all directions. Her other three friends sat behind her and witnessed this occur. The weirdest was when he would push her cheeks apart.

“Stop doing that, Minho!” Eunchae complained, feeling him push them apart yet again.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you’re showing...,” she started to say while trying to motion back subtly to her friends.

“If you’re worried his massaging of your ass is revealing your asshole to us, then so that you know, it is. We’ve seen it extensively now,” Eunwoo commented from behind her. Fantastic, Eunchae thought to herself. God forbid that her friends don’t see every square inch of her body.

Five minutes later and Minho had memorized how every nook and cranny of Eunchae’s ass felt. He then relented to give Eunwoo a turn at pushing Eunchae’s sexual boundaries. Eunwoo had her take the same position on him and wasted no time getting his own hands on her ample ass. Eunchae was now assuming all four of them were going to end up groping her naked ass. In fact, the whole rest of the night might consist of her cheeks getting felt up while stimulating her friends with a lap dance consisting mainly of crotch grinding. But this would be fine. She could handle this and waste away the night with this activity. Her sister would fall asleep in a few hours, free from the hands of her eager friends. What this meant for the future of Eunchae’s relationship with them was worrying. She doubted they would call this a one-time thing. More worrying was that Eunchae didn’t hate that idea.

While Eunwoo was enjoying the feeling of his friend’s behind, his eyes grew hungry for another part of her. “Lean in, Eunchae. I need to get my mouth all over those tits,” he said as his tongue dropped out of his mouth in anticipation.

“My... chest?” Eunchae said as she watched his tongue position itself inches from her nipples. Wasn’t seeing them enough? Wasn’t feeling her butt enough? Was anything enough for these guys? Why were her friends so horny for her and her sister?

“If you think you really need to in order to keep satisfied... okay,” the lap-dancing teen said while looking away.

The feeling of a warm, moist tongue rubbing all over her sensitive nipples made the young woman moan out involuntarily. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her other friends grow excited by her moan. Eunchae herself was surprised by this. Even more surprising was how continued stimulation of her breasts by his tongue garnered a continuous reaction from her.

Small jolts of pleasure shot out of her chest with each manipulation of her nipples with his mouth. When he took the entirety of one of them in his mouth, she again loudly moaned, and this confirmed to her male friend that she was enjoying the experience, much to her shame. His mouth was relentless, and she found herself grinding into his crotch just a bit harder and faster. Her tits grew warm while the tenderness in them reached levels that were causing the inexperienced teen to writhe on top of her friend.

Eunwoo continued to be bold and brought his hands to grope her chest next. Eunchae voiced no opposition to this and welcomed it. The feeling of his fingers pinching her nipples acted to relieve the building pleasure in her chest that was driving her crazy. The manipulation of her tits by his hands spread this pleasure throughout her body. She was grinding hard into his lap and breathing heavily as her mouth stayed agape. The view of the shy, embarrassed girl was replaced with one experiencing pleasure and actively leaning into those feelings.

It was only when Eunwoo commented, “Damn, you’re horny,” that Eunchae was knocked back to her usual self. She became very aware of her moans and how welcoming she had been of her friend’s touch on her naked body. She looked at him with wide, shocked eyes.

Not knowing what else to do, she suggested, “Maybe we give Doyun a turn.”

Eunchae stood up off Eunwoo, her whole body shivering a bit from the impact of having her breasts sexually stimulated. The last of her friends not to get their lap dance yet was Doyun, who sat on the chair with a smile indicating he had a plan in store for the now-flustered teen. “Sit on my lap, facing away from me. If you enjoyed what Eunwoo did to you, you’re going to love what I have in store.”

Eunchae didn’t know how to react to this. Why did Doyun need to do anything to her? Wasn’t this about their pleasure? But she was enamoured with curiosity and wondered if he could give her the same rush of joy that Eunwoo had. She took a seat on him just as he had asked.

Just like with her previous two friends, the erection contained in his pants was readily apparent as she felt it on her ass. She suspected that Chanwoo, the final friend, would soon give her the opportunity to feel his penis as well. “Just relax and lean back against me,” Doyun said in a calming voice.

His hands started at her sides. While far from an intimate location, Eunchae was so unused to male contact that even having his hands on the bare skin of her side felt intense. As she leaned back, he nestled his face on her neck and started lightly kissing it as his hands moved up and down her sides from her hips to the sides of her bosoms. Her legs squirmed as the feeling of his lips on her neck was divine. It also made her appreciate that men had seen her naked and felt so many areas of her body, but she had still never kissed a man. That realization made her feel whorish, but as Doyun’s hands migrated to become the second man in the last half hour to grope her naked tits, she didn’t care anymore.

“Aahhhh,” Eunchae moaned out as her tits, neck, and most intimate areas tingled with pleasure she never knew her body could feel. Her reasons for doing this were long forgotten. All she knew was she didn’t want this to stop. And Doyun didn’t stop as the next minutes consisted of nothing but her tits getting worked over by the strong hands of her friend while she squired on the shaft of his cock. A cock that consumed her thoughts. It was ever so tempting to suggest possible next steps, not caring that she had an audience. But only Doyun knew where things were going to end up between them.

As Eunchae’s mind was adrift in lust, she failed to notice the downward movement of her close friend’s hands. Soon, his fingers made contact with the area that even her own hands rarely touched. The nude girl shot up as she felt two fingers run along the length of her labia. “Oh fuck!” She yelled out. Coming back to reality fast, she looked down to confirm where her friend’s hands had shifted. She grabbed them and held them in place to prevent further stimulation of that area.

“Whoa there. I think that’s taking things too far. I’m letting you grope my chest extensively. Why do you need to touch me there?”

“You have a beautiful body, Eunchae. Your face, chest, butt, and your pussy as well. Why wouldn’t we want to touch you there, too?” He asked.

“Thanks... but touching me there provokes... feelings. I’m not ready for intensity like that,” the still-panting woman admitted.

“Are you sure you aren’t ready? You were plenty wet from what I could feel.”

“No! I... it was... no!” Eunchae said, not liking that this detail was spoken out loud. “I’m not ready!”

Doyun moved his hands away from the groin of his friend. “I understand. That was asking too much of you. You should probably get off me then,” he said.

Eunchae was cautious of this. “Why? I didn’t say you had to stop feeling my other areas.”

“And those areas are fun. But I’m ready for more, and if you don’t want to progress, then we are going to...,” but Eunchae finished his thought.

“My sister. I got it... Actually, I am ready for you to touch my... private area,” Eunchae said.

“Are you sure?” Doyun questioned. Eunchae didn’t answer with words but grabbed his hands and brought them back to her pussy, all while opening up her legs.

Doyun resumed rubbing two fingers along her labia, but just ever so lightly. Still, Eunchae let out a moan that she worried would echo all the way to her sister’s room. Her friend repeated this motion again, then again, and settled into a steady pace of finger stimulation. As Doyun pointed out, Eunchae provided a lot of lubrication. Ever since she started getting touched by Chanwoo, this had been occurring, much to her embarrassment. But there was no hiding that from Doyun.

The build-up of pleasure that had been driving the teenager mad from just the chest groping. But with her stimulation now vaginal in nature, this build-up felt more intense. Something was happening in her, and with what her friend’s fingers were doing, it was happening fast. During a downward motion along her vaginal lips, one of Doyun’s fingers did a sudden turn and penetrated her slightly. This sent a rush through her legs that caused them to spasm. He repeated this maneuver and got the same reaction from the young woman. His finger went deeper and longer each time and was joined by a neighboring finger. Eunchae’s reaction only grew, and soon her muscles all over her body tensed up from this new feeling of having someone inside her pussy.

Eunchae’s hands had a death grip on the chair that supported them. She continued to writhe on her friend, grinding her ass uncontrollably into his dick still contained in his pants. The relentless finger assault on her pussy sent pulse after pulse of pleasure through her body. These pulses grew more intense with less time between them. Soon, the pleasure was constant, and she lost awareness of the world around her. The ecstasy grew to new levels, and Eunchae wondered if relief would ever be found. Her mind was filled with perverse thoughts, and she thought about all of the unspeakable things she could do with the cock that she felt between her ass cheeks.

Finally, the dam burst open, and her body, from her spine to her toes, convulsed in pleasure. Her concern about her sister possibly hearing her was long forgotten, and she wailed out in beautiful agony. As the orgasm relented its hold on her, she collapsed onto her friend, who grabbed her to prevent her body from sliding off. Eunchae had experienced something she didn’t know was possible.

She also didn’t know how long she had been on top of him as her friends watched her bare chest heave up and down. As her breath got under control, she turned her head and was face to face with the guy who had given her this sexual glee. She put her lips together and contacted his, an event that proved to be her first kiss. She reflected on how embarrassing this was later, having been given an orgasm by a guy before kissing them. A situation that would soon be repeated.

After sharing a few more kisses, they looked into each other’s eyes with bliss until Doyun asked, “Blowjob?”

Hearing such a brazen request caused Eunchae to shoot to her feet and off the lap of her friend. However, her legs were in no state to hold her weight, and she fell on her ass, putting her in a spread-legged pose that her friends enjoyed seeing. The nude girl wasn’t concerned with her body being exposed at the moment, though.

“A blowjob? What? From me?” She asked in her post-orgasm-confused state. She worried that while getting fingered earlier, when she imagined herself doing just such an act, she may have unknowingly vocalized a desire to take on such a task. But that wasn’t the case. This was simply a guy wanting to experience a blowjob from his increasingly sexually active female friend.

“Or your sister. Man, can you guys imagine her luscious lips wrapped around your...”

“Stop. Stop. You guys are trying to convince me to blow you by saying you’re going to seek oral from my sister otherwise. Seriously. Can you just agree not to seek out sexual acts from my sister? Is that too big of an ask,” Eunchae pleaded while on the floor with an exposed, shimmering pussy.

The four guys looked at each other. “Eunchae, we understand that you aren’t that interested in sex, events that occurred just five minutes ago notwithstanding. But we are. If your sister is willing to engage in blowjobs with all four of us. That’s her business. I’m sorry you feel that we are trying to manipulate you into doing anything. We aren’t. But we also aren’t going to turn down anything you are offering,” Minho said in a well-meaning tone.

As Eunchae thought about what her friend had just said, she began to accept the reality. She had done some embarrassing things, but there was no need to go further. Her sister was a woman, and these guys were men. Everyone was of legal age, and no cheating would occur. She wouldn’t get in the way of whatever it was they wanted to do with each other.

But then her mind visualized her sister being surrounded by the four cocks of her friends as she went back and forth sucking on them all. Her friends groped her naked body just as they had Eunchae’s, giving her sister the same feelings of uncontrollable lust. Eventually, they unload the contents of their cocks in her mouth and on her. From there, they progress to even more sensual activities. No! Eunchae couldn’t accept such an event occurring. And it was in her power to stop it.

“Get your dick out. I’ll suck it,” she said with her voice cracking. Doyun stood up, looking like he, well, looking like he just had his long-term female friend, whom he had long been attracted to, offer to blow him. Eunchae, meanwhile, was coming to terms with the many new sensations she was about to experience, all centered around the penis of her trusted friend.

With Eunchae on the floor, Doyun stood on the ground next to her. “How about you get my dick out. That will be fun,” he suggested. Not knowing how to argue otherwise, the nude teenage girl brought her shaky hands to the belt of Doyun. She fumbled with it for a while but got it loose, bringing her ever closer to the object of her soon-to-be oral fixation.

As she reached for the zipper of his pants, her hand slid by the bulge in his pants where his cock lay, sending a shiver up her arm. But she knew that in no time, she would be doing more than just glancing at his shaft. The zipper came down, and she unbuttoned his jeans, leaving a thin layer of cloth between her and his manhood. She could have easily pulled down his boxers, but took the opportunity to delay the appearance of his manly feature a few more seconds.

Released from the confines of his pants, his erection became much more noticeable, giving Eunchae a clearer idea of its size and shape. Seeing her pause and stare, Doyun checked in with her soon-to-be friend/lover. “Everything okay, Eunchae?”

His words almost startled the young woman, and she stammered in response. “What? Oh yeah. Everything is good. Just looking at... I mean, not looking at. But your penis is. Your dick looks good. I mean, no. No, not no... I’m going to shut up and take off your boxers.”

As she dwelled on the embarrassing word salad she just said in reference to her friend’s cock, she pulled down the boxers and, looking up, was taken aback at the sight of her first in-person penis. A very erect one at that, thanks to her efforts earlier. “Fuck...,” she said as her mouth when agape at its sight. It was huge, or at least she thought it was. The idea of fitting into... certain orifices of hers was intimidating, and she was thankful that wasn’t what she was preparing for.

But what she was committed to required her to do more than gawk at it, although she was enjoying her viewing of it. This raised questions, though, that Eunchae realized she needed to answer. How the fuck do you give a blowjob. She knew the obvious parts. You put the penis in your mouth. But was that all there was to it? Was she about to embarrass herself by giving the world’s worst blowjob, all while her friends watched? While giving it to a friend...

She reached up and gently took hold of the base of the shaft with her hand. She was doing it. She was actually holding a real dick in her hand. It was... fleshy. An obvious observation, but it was the best way she felt to describe it. It was firm but pleasantly smooth. She ran her hand up and down it a bit just to get a feel for it, and Doyun reacted positively to this. “God, that feels good. Your hands are so soft on my dick Eunchae,” he said, smiling. The naive girl was surprised at this. Was she actually giving her friend some sexual pleasure? Even with that small amount of effort?

This emboldened the nude teenager currently on her knees. Doyun didn’t ask for a handjob. He asked for a blowjob. So, there was no point in delaying things. Eunchae was going to take a dick into her mouth. She metaphorically dove in and took as much of his length into her as she could without risking ganging. Her lips then wrapped around his shaft, and she slowly pulled away from him, feeling his smooth skin glide along her.

“Fuck...,” Doyun groaned, voicing his approval of her first foray into getting face fucked. Eunchae considered it official that she had now lost her mouth virginity, if that could be considered a thing.

She started repeating this movement, driving the portion of his dick that fit in and out of her mouth, all while using her lips to massage all sides of the cock. After getting used to this, she decided to introduce her tongue to her friend’s dick. As she thrusted his dick once again into her mouth, her tongue swiped a quick lick in. Her taste buds were soon flooded with the taste of the pre-cum leaking out of him. It was an enjoyable salty sensation. But tasting this fluid reminded her of another component, which was Doyun’s sperm. While it was a small amount, for now, the idea of having her close friend’s sperm inside her was intimidating. In the right place, those little swimmers could cause her a lot of trouble. But her mouth was safe, and all the sperm Doyun could supply in this orifice wouldn’t get her pregnant. Despite her extreme nervousness in engaging in such an act, Eunchae admitted to herself that she was enjoying the experience, which was good as she had three friends likely eager for their turns.

As she got more creative with her tongue’s role in the blowjob, Doyun took hold of her head with his hands and started directing her to move faster and deeper. Soon her lips were running rapidly over the cock, and Doyun was breathing hard. Just as the young Eunchae wondered how much longer this might go on, her mouth became flooded with a warm liquid that overwhelmed her taste buds with the previous subtle flavor of his pre-cum. Eunchae had successfully made her friend orgasm, with her mouth no less. Thus returning the orgasm he had given her just earlier.

She pulled away from him, releasing his dick from her mouth. She briefly looked around as her mouth contained billions of his sperm until she finally swallowed, not knowing what else she could do. “Fan-fucking-tastic Eunchae,” Doyun said, needing to take a seat in the chair previously used for lap dances.

“Thanks. I guess,” the teenager said after having her blowjob skills complimented. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be good at this or not, but for now, she was glad the job was done. For one of these guys, at least.

She looked over at her other three friends in a different light than she had in the past. At this moment, they represented dicks that she needed to make cum.

“So... am I blowing one of you guys next?” Eunchae asked in maybe the most embarrassing question of her life.

“I’ll take a boobjob,” Eunwoo announced, standing up. A boobjob? Was there a menu of options that Eunchae was offering that she wasn’t aware of? Was her job tonight to fulfill all of their sexual requests? Still, considering she just took a dick in the mouth, it seemed to her that pleasuring one with your chest was a lesser ask.

“How do we do this?” she asked. Eunwoo was already pulling down his boxers when she asked, revealing the second cock of the day for the inexperienced 18-year-old girl with a stomach full of her friend’s cum. He laid on the floor as his cock awaited two large tits to surround it. This second dick looked no less large than the last one. And no less alluring either, Eunchae thought in the back of her mind. She was a bit excited to feel it.

She got on her knees and leaned over the fleshy staff. “Do I just rub my chest over it like this?” She asked as she positioned the dick between her ample tits. The idea that her body was ideal for such an activity was too much for her to accept.

Eunchae pushed her boobs inward together, compressing them around the dick, and started moving herself up and down the shaft of her friend. This was another first she had given up tonight, although she was certain ‘boob virginity’ was not a thing. She was almost able to surround the perimeter of his manhood completely. The feeling of having this male feature between her chest was odd—a combination of naughty and shameful. Two hours ago, if her friends had asked her to wear something that showed a bit of cleavage, she would have denied them and run off in total embarrassment at even being asked such a thing. Now she was fully naked and currently trying to induce her friend to cum by stimulating him with her tits. Eunchae was worried about what might happen in the next two hours.

Pre-cum from Eunwoo soon coated her bosom. Again, she thought about her friend’s sperm and how another part of her body was being introduced to it. Another safe area, but not headed in the direction she liked.

“Lie on your back,” he said as Eunwoo was looking to switch things around. Being requested to lie on your back fully naked by your friend, currently sporting an exposed erection, worried Eunchae, but she complied. Surely, he wasn’t taking things to that level. Once she was horizontal on her back, the eager male straddled her over her stomach and plopped down his cock between her chest. He then used his own hands to squeeze her tits together and resume the tit job. In control now, Eunwoo was much more vigorous with pumping his cock between her tits. In addition, having both his hands squeezing her tits while a dick used them for pleasure was having an erotic impact on the young lady.

Just as Doyun and Eunwoo gave her tit-stimulated pleasure during the lap dance, this boob job was proving no different. As she saw a dick thrust towards her face repeatedly, Eunchae began to squirm from the barrage of pleasure her chest was feeling. One orgasm was shameful enough to have in front of her friends, but a second one? Especially one derived from such an act would be too much to bear. But the possibility of such a thing happening disappeared as Eunwoo pulled himself out from between her tits. But she then appreciated that he hadn’t finished and wondered if maybe he didn’t plan to. But then the feeling of warm liquid spraying onto her chest brought her up to date with her friend’s plan. He was cumming directly onto his chest. The sight of a dick cumming was breath-taking to the inexperienced teenager. It shot out with force in multiple bursts. Each pump that hit her made her gasp as she appreciated what this liquid was and how erotic this act was. The smell of the cum hit her, and she found it invigorating and wanting more of it. If not on her chest, then other areas...

The last of his seed dripped out onto her, and Eunchae knew she had finished pleasing yet another friend. But two more remained. “I should go clean up,” she said, sitting up.

“No! Keep it on your chest,” Chanwoo said, with Minho nearby, shaking his head in agreement.

“What? But...,” Eunchae started to argue but quickly relented. If this is what they wanted, fine. She didn’t need to hear about how her sister would happily wear their cum with pride.

Having regained her strength from her orgasm earlier, Eunchae stood up. While wearing the cum of Eunwoo on her tits, she asked Chanwoo and Minho, “So what do you guys want to do?” Eunchae regretted her language as she was starting to sound like she was making herself free to be used for their sexual pleasure. Although, isn’t that what she was doing?

“Get on your knees,” Minho said. Figuring that meant he was volunteering to be next and wanted to feel her lips on his cock, she complied.

However, both men approached her while starting to unzip their pants. “Wait. Who am I blowing?” Eunchae asked as she watched both guys’ pants fall to the floor.

“Both,” Chanwoo said as he pulled his cock out, followed by Minho revealing his.

Eunchae understood. Earlier, she had visualized almost this exact scenario, albeit with her sister doing this instead of her. With the amount of cocks she had handled doubling, the nude teenager took hold of each shaft in either hand and started stroking them. They felt remarkably similar to Doyun’s. From here on, anytime she hung out with her friends, she would know the size, texture, and in most cases, taste of their cocks. Even in the most innocent of interactions, that knowledge would pop into her head in addition to images of the many acts she was partaking in tonight with them.

While she had two hands that were up to the task of jacking off her friends, she had but a single mouth. Eunchae elected to have Chanwoo become the second dick to penetrate her mouth. As her lips rolled over the bare skin of his manhood and her tongue teased his tip, she came to appreciate his cock had a different taste than her previous oral partner. His, likely from the healthy amount of pre-cum, had a bit more of a metallic taste. That made her curious about what Minho tasted like, and she switched her mouth over to his and found it to have more of the salty taste that Doyun shared. She wondered then about the only cock in the room she hadn’t sucked on, Eunwoo’s. But she realized this was embarrassing to consider. She would not ask to give her friend a blowjob just to compare his taste to the others.

Over the next five minutes, Eunchae worked the two cocks with her hand while giving them oral pleasure as equally as she could. “God, I’m getting close,” Chanwoo moaned.

“Me too. Your mouth is heaven, Eunchae,” Minho said.

“Okay, so where do you want to...,” the teen asked before her question was thoroughly answered. Cum out of both dicks sprayed onto her face.

“Don’t stop your hands,” Minho commanded as cum continued to splatter over the surprised face of Eunchae. As the last of it hit her, the boys again complimented her ability to get them to cum, saying she had a talent. A talent that the cum covered friend wasn’t sure she welcomed.

But Eunchae breathed easily, knowing that her friends were sexually satisfied and her sister was free of the horny hands and cum of her friends. “Now that everyone has been... serviced? Can we get back to the game now?” She asked as she looked towards the table. She expected they would want her to play naked and keep her cum coating on. That was fine, and the smell of cum continued to intoxicate her. But the guys didn’t give her the immediate confirmation of that plan.

“Eunchae. I think you’re underestimating the sexual appetite of men,” Doyun said. She turned to face him and was met with her still-naked friend, sporting another erection.

“You’re kidding me...,” she said as she remembered taking his cum into her mouth just half an hour ago.

“What can I say. I’m enjoying the view,” Doyun said, looking over his friend’s seeded body.

“Okay, fine. I guess I’m blowing you guys more,” Eunchae said as she took one last longing look at her board game that remained unplayed. Although she didn’t resent the idea of four men focusing their sexual lust on her again.

“Your blowjob was, well, orgasmic, Eunchae. But we’re looking for the real deal now. Something I don’t think you are willing to do. So you sit tight here, and we’re going to go hang out with your sister for a bit,” Minho said.

“You mean you’re going to go fuck her,” Eunchae said, thinking that now that she was covered in cum, the time to stop glossing over what people really meant has passed.

“Yes, we want to have sex with your sister.”

The four men got up, not bothering to put their clothes on. Eunchae wondered if they were really going to solicit sex from her sister while naked like this? But as she thought about it, the sight of four naked and erect boys outside of her bedroom might make her sister all the easier to convince her sister to engage in sex. Eunchae had an obvious path to avoid this. Offer her own body in place of her sister’s. But that would mean giving up her big V-card. Her real virginity. She couldn’t get that back. But did she really care about holding on to it? She had just engaged in a five-way blowjob orgy. Was claiming technical innocence worth knowing her friends would soon fill her sister’s willing womb with their cum?

Once again, she stopped them right as they started leaving the room.

“Wait...,” the nervous virgin said.

Her four naked guy friends turned around. “Yes?” Chanwoo asked.

Eunchae paused and couldn’t get the words out. “You know what I’m going to say. Don’t make me actually say it,” she said in a shaky voice.

“I need to hear you say it,” Chanwoo said to the nods of the others.

“Y—you... you can fuck me,” she muttered.

“Aren’t you a virgin?” Eunwoo asked, speculating on the sexual experience of his friend.

“Yeah... but we got to start sometime, right?” The four nudes looked at each other.

“I don’t know if you really want to do this, Eunchae. Maybe you should just let us get with your sister and save yourself for a future boyfriend,” Doyun mentioned.

“I know we’ve done a lot of stuff tonight, but I agree. I don’t think this is something you really want,” Chanwoo added. Eunchae was getting frustrated hearing this. She wasn’t drunk, being blackmailed, or anything else. She is giving her consent, and these big dick jerks are still doubting her intentions. She needed to be extra clear.

“I’m telling you that I want to feel your cock inside my pussy! Fuck me now and fuck me hard, you jerk!” She yelled out.

Eunchae felt her pride sink to a new low, but it had the intended effect. “Okay, Eunchae, chill. We will have sex with you. But which of us do you want to have sex with first?” Eunwoo asked, holding his hands up to calm down the eager teenage girl.

“Why do I have to choose?” Eunchae protested.

“Because usually girls choose who they lose their virginity to,” Chanwoo said. The nude girl couldn’t argue with that, but by what logic could she even pick? Whoever she chooses would probably send an unintended message that she felt that one was more attractive or appealing to her. Up until an hour ago, when she started feeling their dicks, Eunchae never saw these guys in that light.

Her eyes were drawn to their dicks which were all now erect. She swore they looked even bigger and had trouble believing they would fit inside her. Not that she had ever explored fitting things in that part of her. But she realized she had been checking out their cock for a while and turned around in embarrassment.

Picking them based on their size would be the last thing she would want to do. It’s not like they all wouldn’t end up fucking her anyway. Oh god, all four of her friends are going to fuck her tonight, Eunchae realized. Why wouldn’t they? They had all wanted a lap dance from her and afterward wanted her to make them cum. She had agreed to a full-on orgy with her best friends. So many words popped into her head that she would use to describe women who partake in such activities. Descriptors that she would soon apply to herself.

“I’ll just pick random. We have dice, after all,” she said, walking to the table. At least a small part of the game would be used, she thought. It would be weird as from here on, every time she rolled the dice playing, she would remember how she used it to decide who broke her hymen and made her a ‘real woman.’ But as she grabbed the dice, she saw the bag of bird eggs, which served as an important reminder to her.

“You guys have condoms?”

All four shook their heads.

“Well, we can’t have sex without condoms, so I guess it’s not happening,” Eunchae said. That would give her a short reprieve from giving up the goods to these guys, but she knew next time they would come over, they would probably bring a pack or something obscene.

“Your sister would probably let us fuck her without condoms,” Chanwoo remarked.

Why were these guys making so many assumptions about the sexual nature of her sister? Eunchae fretted. But would her sister go so far as to forgo protection to get with guys younger than her? What worried her most was that she knew for a fact that, like her, her sister wasn’t on protection. A year ago, Eunchae’s sister came to her asking if she would like to start birth control. Eunchae declined, saying she wasn’t planning on being sexually active. Her sister remarked she wasn’t on birth control for the same reason.

“Then promise you’ll pull out and cum on my chest. You guys seemed to enjoy doing that,” Eunchae offered as a compromise. This made her unbelievably nervous as she knew pre-cum contained sperm. In addition, this would require a lot of trust in some guys proving to be extraordinarily horny.

“Eunchae, your sister will probably let us…” Chanwoo started to say before the virgin girl objected.

“If you’re suggesting my sister will let a group of teenage boys cum inside her and risk a pregnancy just for sexual satisfaction, you’re wrong!”

But Eunchae wasn’t sure about this. It’s not like she has discussed anything like this with her sister. Given that she existed at all, though, proved that her sister was capable of agreeing to unprotected sex with men she wasn’t married to. Given her built-up lust, would she repeat this mistake? With her sister’s teenage friends, even?

“So you’re saying the only way you guys won’t cum inside my sister is if I let you guys cum inside me,” Eunchae asked.

“That’s not fair! You make it sound like we are making you do this. Eunchae, if you don’t want to fuck us, then don’t!” Doyun complained.

“Then don’t have unprotected sex with my sister!”

“Be reasonable. We’re guys. All we think about is sex. If a hot woman is willing to let us have sex with her, protection or no, we’re going to take her up on it. I’m sorry that it happens to be your sister,” Eunwoo said, laying out their position.

“But I’m not on birth control. Do you guys really want to risk getting me pregnant?” Eunchae asked as her mind started to panic that she was even considering this.

“It’s not that I want to impregnate you. I want to cum inside a beautiful woman tonight. It seems we have two candidates,” Eunwoo said.

What the hell was happening, thought Eunchae. How did tonight go from a board game about birds to her friends willing to impregnate her or her sister? And what had happened to her in these few hours that she was taking this willingness as a compliment and becoming very tempted by it.

A child would change almost everything Eunchae had planned in her life. College, a husband, and even where she would live would all be drastically changed by getting pregnant at age 18. But the alternative was her sister getting pregnant. By the seed of her friends. God, would one of these guys become her brother-in-law? Oh god, would she have ended up blowing her brother-in-law?

“I’m not saying I want to... yet. But if we did this... and something were to... take hold inside me. Would you guys take responsibility?”

All four of them voiced enthusiastic agreement with that.

“Are you kidding? I’d happily!” Minho said. Eunchae wondered just what that meant to her friends. Were they indicating they would marry her? Or just raise their child? Were they saying that to get in her pants? Even though she wasn’t wearing any right now? Today was proving mind-bogglingly life-changing to the sexually inexperienced teen girl.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a baby, but I think I’m ready to go all the way with you guys,” Eunchae finally admitted.

This was crazy. She was basically asking these guys to impregnate her to prevent herself from getting a brother-in-law. As per her plan, she headed to the game table and rolled the dice. The four guys continued to look shocked that their friend, who had shown no interest in any sexual before, was now using a board game piece to pick which of them would get the first shot at impregnating her. Assigning each guy to a bird food picture on the die, the luck of the roll favored Eunwoo. He would be the first to partake in the most intimate of actions with his friend.

A wide-eyed Eunchae went and lay on the floor, deciding this was where it would happen. Eunwoo inched closer to her, but still questioned things. “I only want to do this with you, Eunchae, if you really do,” he asked as his erection showed his body as fully onboard.

Eunchae didn’t want to go through this whole exercise with her friend doubting her resolve, so she made things clear.

“Take that cock of yours and fuck my pussy with it until I squeal from cumming. Then fill my womb with so much cum there will be no doubt that I’m pregnant.”

Eunchae's direct words took all four men by surprise. But as the night advanced, none questioned her desire to do this again.

But the soon-to-be ex-virgin’s confidence was just for show. In reality, she eyed his cock with immense anxiety. Both in terms of its size and the millions of little swimmers it would soon dispense. All it would take is for one to find its target. Her eggs. She wasn’t one to keep track of her cycles, but from a quick estimation in her head, this was not the day to be doing this.

Eunwoo joined her on the floor and climbed on top of her, putting his face next to hers. “I’m going to take this slow, okay?” He informed his soon-to-be lover. She put on a brave face and gave him a nod like she had done this a hundred times before. Given how horny these guys were, that scenario might become the truth soon.

Eunchae felt the entrance to her womb get tickled, but she knew this wasn’t any finger touching her. Soon, the appendage in question started applying pressure, and she took one last breath as a virgin. Eunwoo’s dick penetrated her, and a shot of pain sent a clear message to the young woman. She was fucking her friend. True to his word, Eunwoo didn’t immediately start pounding her mound despite her early boast that she wanted them to ‘fuck her hard.’ The pain was more than she expected, but was fading fast. The cock in her pulled out slowly and then back in. This generated new pain, but it was less intense and faded even faster. Eunchae appreciated that the worst was over and was thankful that Eunwoo was proving to be such a thoughtful and skillful sexual partner.

He continued to slide in and out of her, with the pain becoming almost non-existent. The fading of the pain was a relief, but her major concern still loomed large. Even now, she knew sperm was already leaking out of the cock currently fucking her. It was a small amount, but would soon be joined by a flood of fellow swimmers. A flood with one goal. To impregnate her. But for now, Eunwoo was picking up the pace and delving deeper into her with each stroke. They continued to be face to face, and while she tried to look away or close her eyes. However, often their eyes would meet. Was it weird that she wasn’t kissing him? Or if she tried to, would that make it weirder?

Eunchae had expected sex to be much like when she got fingered earlier by Doyun, but that was proving not to be the case. The feeling of getting stretched out over and over by the cock was... unusually pleasant. As well as the friction caused by the movement of his dick inside her. While she still would have liked to be using protection, the skin-on-skin contact was so intimate. The recently devirginized teenager felt every textured detail of him slide inside her. Despite her earlier appreciation of him taking it slow, she was now finding herself eager for him to go faster and harder. While not something she consciously decided to do, her hips started humping in unison with Eunwoo’s thrust, driving him to go deeper into her.

As she was getting comfortable with the experience, a facial expression of pleasure reminded the young woman of the reality of the situation. Eunwoo was approaching his limit, and with that event, the potential impregnation. Feeling the cock inside her, Eunchae had second thoughts about her earlier acceptance of becoming a sister-in-law. Why was she doing this? She could ask her friend to withdraw, and he would comply. Her virginity wouldn’t be restored, but she would be left without this life-changing event occurring. With that thought, Eunwoo’s dick reached a new depth within her, and Eunchae let out a moan, and her legs stirred underneath her current lover. This redirected her attention to the three friends watching the sex show she was freely giving them. Three guys were watching but really waiting for their turn. And if not Eunchae, they would be watching her sister take on the nine-inch cock in her pussy. Her sister would be the one about to get inseminated.

Seeing Eunwoo’s face contort further as his orgasm was approaching rapidly, Eunchae steeled her nerves. This was the right decision.

“Get me pregnant,” she said to Eunwoo.

She pulled his face into hers and kissed him passionately right when she felt the sensation of a warm liquid enter her. Over the next minute, he stayed inside her while enjoying the feel of her lips on his. All the while, the last of his cum, and potent sperm entered the womb of his friend. Eunchae had been inseminated.

Eunchae pulled her face back and looked at Eunwoo with eyes the size of frisbees. As he withdrew from her, leaving her on the floor naked and cum filled, she calmed herself down. Would one load of cum really get her pregnant? But then she saw the eager faces of her friends, one load on her foot. Even Eunwoo was talking about doing more.

“That was so incredible. I’m going to focus on getting ready for my next turn,” he said, taking a seat on the floor to watch the next sex show Eunchae would be starring in.

Next time, she thought? How many times was she going to get fucked today? Minho announced that it was agreed he would go next. Apparently, Chanwoo and Doyun had something planned, which made Eunchae greatly curious. But she couldn’t dwell on that too much as she was about to experience the feeling of yet another long-term friend cumming inside her. Wanting to keep things fresh, he asked that she ride him on top of his dick. As Eunchae saw him lying on the floor with his erection pointing straight upward, she wondered why it was necessary to change things up with a girl you haven’t had sex with yet. A thought that instantly left her lead as she lowered herself onto her newest lover.

Being on top this time, Minho’s cock was able to penetrate her fully right off the bat. A feeling that the newly introduced teenager didn’t appreciate until now. She let out a loud gasp, and her whole body shivered briefly.

“God, your pussy feels so good and wet,” Minho said as his hands took hold of her tits.

That was not a compliment Eunchae had expected her to hear today, if ever in her life. But as the shock of the giant cock entering her wore off, she gradually started lifting herself up and down on it. In this position, she was mostly in control. Minho was eagerly lifting his hips to encourage her to pick up the pace.

Eunchae found her rhythm and was sliding the inside of her vaginal walls against her second cock of the day. The same pleasurable experiences she encountered with Eunwoo resumed. But with her nerves about getting impregnated relaxed somewhat, she was able to focus on chasing these feelings. As she humped the equally large dick, she manipulated the angle of attack to maximize her pleasure. This worked maybe too well, and as the tip rubbed against a very sensitive area she found, Eunchae let out a loud “Fuck,” and her ass twitched as a wave of sexual glee spread out from that spot. Taking a minute to recover, she started her humping back up, telling herself to avoid doing that again as it was just too intense.

However, not twenty seconds later, her curiosity and lust got the better of her, and she manipulated her body to experience that again. Ready for it this time, the next wave that hit her didn’t interrupt her rhythm, and she let out a long moan that she felt a bit embarrassed about. Opening her eyes, she saw the teasing face of Minho smiling back.

“Shut up! I’m letting my four best friends try to impregnate me. I’m not going to be shamed for enjoying myself,” Eunchae said before closing her eyes again.

Minutes later, the tip of the dick was hitting this orgasmic spot constantly, and the newly introduced to sex teenager was in a continuous state of moaning. Her lover was no longer teasing her as he was focused on not cumming early to the sexually charged sight he witnessed on top of him. Eunchae was humping his dick with a purpose. Wave after wave was crashing throughout her body until it became a steady stream of ecstasy. She used her hands to ensure Minho kept a firm grip on her tits as it was adding to her full-body pleasure. She knew she was building up to something grand and needed to see it to its mind-blowing conclusion. Her vision was starting to go white, and any doubt, shame, or worries she had been now gone. A live news crew could walk into the room, and she wouldn’t stop driving her pussy into this dick. Finally, after one last slide of the dick inside her, the build-up exploded.

“Coming, coming,” Eunchae muttered as she felt her legs convulse and her toes curl. The pleasure was overwhelming, and she worried this state she was in would drive her mad if it continued, but she simultaneously wanted it never to stop.

But it finally did, and she fell into her second sexual partner’s chest, gasping for air after she realized she had forgotten to breathe during her orgasm. It was only a minute later that she questioned whether Minho had even finished, but the feeling of fresh liquid leaking out of her confirmed it. As the logical side of her brain booted back up, she knew this meant she had added another name to the list of potential fathers of the child she soon expected to start growing inside her.

Eunchae rolled off of Minho and onto the floor. That was the second orgasm of her life, and her friends had witnessed both on this same night. That one was more intense, too, and she worried about what would happen if these boys got her there a third time. Because she was certain, they wanted to try. And try all night.

As she lay on the floor looking upwards, two dicks came into her view, and she knew Doyun and Chanwoo were standing over her. “How are you doing?” Doyun asked her. She knew he was probably eager to feel her pussy with his dick. Eunchae didn’t vocalize this, but she was keen to let them try after the heaven on earth she experienced.

“Who is next,” she asked, hoping she wasn’t starting to sound like a sex-crazed slut, asking for her next dick.

“Both of us,” Chanwoo said with a devilish smile.

“What the fuck does that mean,” Eunchae said, sitting up. He didn’t immediately answer her, and Eunchae looked around the room at her friends to try to understand what she was missing.

Her last lover finally explained as he lay on the spot where they had just made love. “Chanwoo and Doyun want to fuck you in your ass and pussy at the same time. They want to double penetrate you,” he explained.

“My ass? While I’m getting fucked? I just lost my virginity twenty minutes ago. Now my ass needs to get penetrated? Isn’t fucking my pussy enough?” She fretted.

Chanwoo and Doyun looked at each other. “As we keep saying, Eunchae, you don’t have to do this. We will happily go to your...,” Doyun started to say, using the same excuse that they have been using all night.

“No! My sister may be willing to have sex with you guys. She may even be willing to have unprotected sex. But I know my sister. She isn’t up for getting ass fucked by her sister’s friends while another takes a shot at impregnating her at the same time!” But once again, Eunchae asked herself if she really knew that. What sister knows the sexual kinks of their sister?

“We’ll let you know what she says when we offer,” Chanwoo said, leading Doyun out of the room.

“How about you fuck my butt one on one?” Eunchae offered. Oh god, did she just offer her asshole now?

“I might take you up on that afterward, but for now, we’re sticking with our plan,” Doyun said without even turning around.

“Why does it have to be at the same time,” Eunchae cried out.

“It’s hard to explain. But once you do it, you’ll know,” Chanwoo replied.

“Then show me,” she said, going red in the cheeks at her sudden decision. Hearing that, the two boys finally turned around. “If it’s difficult to put into words, then demonstrate it with me,” she muttered.

“So you’re saying we can...,” Doyun cautiously asked.

“Don’t make me say it. Just tell me what I need to do,” Eunchae said, looking away.

Chanwoo lay on the floor on his back. They were going to create an Eunchae fucking sandwich, as Doyun described it. She climbed on him and laid on him so they were stomach to stomach. She maneuvered downward until she was low enough that Chanwoo can penetrated her with his dick. She started to hump it, almost out of instinct, but the boys told her to wait. As her third cock waited inside her, Eunchae looked back nervously as Doyun joined them. He held himself up just above, and she felt his erect cock resting against her butt crack.

“For this part, I would recommend you try and relax your asshole as much as possible while I put my dick into you,” Doyun said calmly.

That was a sentence she had not expected to hear tonight when she invited them over to play a board game. She did her best as Doyun directed his tip to her most intimate of entrances. And the only one that had been cock free until now.

It took considerably more pressure to penetrate her ass than her pussy, but it finally popped in, and finally Eunchae experienced the feeling of having two dicks inside her for the first time. Her ass barraged her with feelings of pain and pleasure, and Eunchae started squealing. The two mixed and formed a new sensation that the young girl couldn’t process at first. Doyun took hold of Eunchae’s body and started pumping her on and off of not only his cock implanted in her ass but Chanwoo’s as well.

This was giving her double the pleasure as she was being stretched in both places now. Twice the feeling of a hard cock sliding inside her and twice the sensitive spots being massaged. Her ass was relaxing and feeding her feelings of pure pleasure now. Her friends were rocking her body hard, and she learned what they meant. This feeling couldn’t be described, and she was glad she had agreed to it.

Her muscles all over her body started tensing up as sparks of pleasure burst all over her body. Even in unexplainable areas like her tits and neck. But as she tensed up from this sexual joy, it had the bonus effect of making her squeeze tighter onto the cocks ravaging her insides, sending even more orgasmic pleasure into her body. It was creating a viscous pleasure cycle that sent her skyrocketing up a mountain of ecstasy. When it would peak was unknown to the writhing, naked woman.

Eunchae’s mind thought of nothing but sex, and she started blurting out her thoughts without any sense of shame.

“Don’t stop fucking my holes. Don’t ever stop. I want to do this forever with you. Fill my ass and pussy with cum. Impregnate me and make me your forever whore. Oh god!” The young woman couldn’t tell if she was having two orgasms or one large one.

But in either case, her mouth opened wide, and she looked like she was screaming, but no sound came out as the pleasure flooded into her spine, making her back arch. Her hands flayed wildly as if looking for something that could release her from the intensity she felt from cumming.

Her lovers could do nothing but fill her with their seed, which they did happily. Chanwoo added his sperm to the ever-increasing pool seeking to impregnate Eunchae while Doyun came inside the last orifice of Eunchae’s that had been cum free.

When Eunchae’s vision returned several minutes later, the first thought that popped into her head was that this friendship was forever changed. There’s no way you can let two guy friends double-team you like that and expect things to stay the same. But would they change for the better or worse? Eunchae herself didn’t even know what she wanted the future to hold. But as she sat up, she knew one thing. Eunwoo and Minho were both hard again. Her protection of her sister’s innocence from these horny teenagers was still in question.

“Who’s next, and where do you want to put it?” She asked the men.

The orgy continued for five more hours. Doyun took a shot at impregnating her as well. Multiple times, in fact. All four of them cycled between Eunchae’s different holes, but most enjoyed her pussy. There were, of course, breaks in the actions, but in that time frame, she never went more than twenty minutes without at least one dick in her.

Towards the end of the night, the guys began pushing Eunchae to reveal how many times she had cum, as it had become difficult to tell.

“A proper lady doesn’t reveal such intimate details,” she teased as cum leaked out of her ass and pussy from the last round of double penetration they engaged in.

The night ended when yet another dam of pleasure burst open in Eunchae and proved too overwhelming for her to remain conscious. Her friends were spent at that point and left, leaving Eunchae’s sister untouched that night. When the over-sexed girl woke up in a very sore, cummed covered state, she panicked that her sister might find her like this and quickly cleaned herself and the room up as best she could. But the room had a lingering smell of cum in it. The smell made Eunchae’s legs squirm a bit, but she hoped her sister wouldn’t recognize it if she ever came back here.

Having lost a lot of fluids last night, while gaining a lot as well, Eunchae headed to the kitchen, where she was glad to find her sister had made breakfast. She grabbed a plate and sat at the table with her.

“You guys played that game of yours late last night. Your friends must have really enjoyed themselves,” Eunchae's sister said without a hint indicating she actually knew what happened.

“Yeah... it was fun,” Eunchae said, not able to look her sister in the eyes. They both sat in silence for a few minutes with an awkwardness in the air that had never been present before.

“Eunchae, I have something to tell you. And I need you to let me finish before you respond,” her sister asked, looking nervous.

“Okay...,” Eunchae replied, putting down her fork. She anxiously expected her sister to reveal she knew about her orgy last night and expected a lecture on safe sex. A lecture that was a day late, likely, Eunchae thought, putting her hand on her tummy.

“I appreciate that what I’m about to tell you will make you upset and may even make you feel betrayed. I know I messed up, but I hope you at least understand why I did this.” Eunchae suddenly had no clue where this was headed, but kept quiet as her sister had requested.

“Starting five months ago, right after the last of them turned eighteen, I have been engaging in sexual activities with your four friends. Wait. I should be clear about this, as you are an adult and need to hear the truth. I have been having sex with them. Orally, vaginally, and anally. Often at the same time. Your friends have a touch that drives me wild. Often, I pass out in an orgasmic spasm, only to wake up the next day hungry for more. We meet together whenever we can, which is 4 to 5 times a week. I should also mention that I got addicted to the feeling of their bare skin inside me, and thus, we haven’t been using protection. I’m... three months pregnant. I’m not sure which of them is the father, nor do I need to know. I’m so sorry about this. I tried to tell you yesterday, but you seemed so off-put by the idea of me being attracted to your friends. But I knew I had to tell you today, no matter what. How mad are you with me?”

Eunchae sat looking at her sister calmly for a minute before responding.

“Could we pretend you didn’t tell me this yet? My friends are coming over tonight, and there’s a new game we invented last night that I want to keep playing with them. Maybe we tell them in three or four months?”

Her sister smiled at her with understanding eyes.

“You should probably put some lube on your asshole. Trust me, it will help.”

[creamflix]

TALK TOO MUCH ! ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

mission brief did you know there’s a six-foot-something guy in your class who’s smart, suspiciously well-read in your field, and loudly supportive of women’s rights all of a sudden? yeah, he’s also hopelessly in love with you. you’re just trying to get your degree. he’s trying to get your attention. the rest practically writes itself. w.c 7k

risk assessment university au, crack & fluff, female reader, mentions of weed usage, crush at first sight, himbo gojo + sukuna + toji, naoya being sexist as always, slight transphobia, toji + sukuna + gojo are part of the same frat, uraume cameo ft! gojo, naoya, geto, sukuna, toji

a/n this was inspired by the video → jock pretends to be a nerd to impress you (ASMR) ← PLEASE check it out it's very funny.

☆ GOJO SATORU: I JOINED ENGINEERING FOR THE PHYSICS AND SAT FRONT ROW FOR HER, BUT SHE STILL DOESN’T KNOW MY NAME

In Gojo’s defense — and he always had a defense, mind you — he didn’t mean to major in engineering. 

It was a whim, a toss-of-the-coin decision made in the haze of post-exam delusion and overconfidence. Physics had always been his thing. He topped nationally in grade 12, solved kinematics like Sudoku, and made a meme page about Newton's laws that somehow went viral. So Engineering? Duh. Physics, but cooler, right?

Wrong. Very, violently wrong.

No one warned him that Engineering Physics was basically Physics on steroids, combined with linear algebra’s illegitimate child and the unforgiving slap of applied mechanics. Suddenly, instead of tinkering with fun little projectile motion problems, he was deriving partial differential equations for heat transfer while hungover. He didn’t even know what a Lagrangian was, and people were out here minimizing it like they did it for sport.

He should’ve switched majors. Should’ve listened to his friends, to his GPA, to that one TA who told him, “Mr. Gojo, this isn’t a YouTube prank channel. Please stop bringing a lighter to class.”

But then, you walked in during course exploration week — where students from other disciplines could sit in on any class.

You waltzed into his 9 a.m. Electromagnetic theory lecture with a coffee in one hand and a look that said “I am not here to commit.” And Gojo — Gojo who once fell asleep drooling on his differential equations worksheet — sat up straight. Literally front-row, front and center, no sunglasses, no lighter.

He was suddenly alive.

“Professor,” he said, for the first time ever, “Could you please explain how Maxwell's equations relate to boundary conditions at material interfaces?”

The professor nearly fainted.

People turned in their seats. Someone whispered, “What the fuck is wrong with Gojo.” He ignored them. 

You didn’t even look at him.

You were too busy squinting at the whiteboard, taking notes, tilting your head like you were trying to find a flaw in all of electromagnetism itself. And Gojo, high-functioning himbo that he was, had never tried harder to sound like he cared about vector calculus in his entire life. He even stopped asking the dumb hypothetical questions like, “But what if the resistor was alive?”

He asked about displacement currents now. About Poynting vectors. About complex impedance. 

He googled after class. He attended tutorials. He bought a fucking graphing notebook and labeled it “electric love (theory).”

And the irony? You never noticed. Never spared him more than a polite nod when he held the door open. Because, of course, you weren’t here for people. You were here for classes. Just floating through mechanical design, dabbling in Comp Sci, sitting in on Civil Engineering like a butterfly landing on several cursed flowers before committing to bloom.

You did not give a singular shit about Gojo Satoru.

And Gojo — Gojo who had people lining up to cheat off his board exam answers — was now refreshing his attendance portal and manually correcting his MATLAB syntax because a random stranger with wide eyes and a mechanical pencil made engineering look like something worth trying for. 

He once asked a classmate, “Do you think she noticed me when I asked about Gauss’s Law?”

“Who?”

He was doomed. And worse? He kinda liked it.

By Friday, Gojo Satoru was a shell of the man he used to be.

His once-messy notes were now color-coded. His hair, usually in its signature tousled chaos, was combed back like he gave a shit about aerodynamics. The lighter that he once flicked open with one hand under the desk? Confiscated. Twice. 

He hadn’t flirted with a single person in five days. Five.

He even knew what dielectric permittivity meant.

This week had been the longest relationship he’d ever been in.

Because ever since you walked into that lecture hall on Monday — unassuming, curious, tilting your head at inductance like it personally offended you — Gojo had been in crisis mode. A calculated, overachieving, wildly embarrassing crisis. 

He should have just talked to you. Just said hi, cracked a joke, thrown one of his usual cocky smiles your way. But no. No. He doubled down on academic desperation like an unmedicated gifted child.

On Tuesday, he started showing up five minutes early and sitting right in front of you.

On Wednesday, he asked four questions, all relevant, and argued with the professor over the derivation of the Biot–Savart law.

On Thursday, he raised his hand before the professor even finished writing the topic on the board. And today? Today, he stood up mid-lecture, holding his notebook like a thesis, and asked, “Sir, do you want me to take over and explain the derivation?”

The professor stared at him, blinking. “Mr. Gojo,” he said slowly, like addressing a wild animal, “Please be seated. I… I implore you.”

You didn’t even look up. You were too busy cross-checking your notes with the projection, scribbling in the margins like a woman on a mission.

When class finally ended, the professor clapped once, looking exhausted but relieved. “To those of you visiting this week, thank you for attending. It's been wonderful having you.”

Gojo blinked. What?

Oh god. It's the end of exploration week.

His heart jackhammered. He hadn’t even spoken to you, hadn’t even gotten your name. Hadn’t done anything except become a clown in the name of electromagnetic thirst. He watched as students trickled down to the front to sign the attendance sheet, indicating whether or not they’d be continuing with the course. You stood in line, humming under your breath. Calm, like your choice was already made.

Gojo watched your pen touch the paper, and the millisecond you stepped away, he sprinted. Vaulted over a desk, and possibly elbowed some poor sophomore in the ribs. He hovered over the sheet like it was a sacred scroll.

There. Your name, written neatly. Clearly. 

With a little loop at the end of the “yes.”

He read it three times, outright etching it into his brain as he felt his soul realign with the axis of your handwriting.

And as you walked past him on your way out, you glanced at him — just for a second. Just a flicker. And you smiled. Polite. Brief. Maybe a little amused.

You didn’t know. You couldn’t possibly know the chaos you’d just survived. And then the professor, as casually as mentioning the weather, added, “Ah yes — she’s the Dean’s daughter. Naturally, she’s joining engineering.”

Gojo didn’t just cheer. He howled.

“YES!”

He fist-pumped the air.

“FUCK YES, SCIENCE!”

Everyone turned. The professor flinched. You paused at the door, blinking in mild confusion before walking off, slightly faster. Gojo clutched the attendance sheet like a man reborn.

Engineering wasn’t a whim anymore. It was destiny. And her name was you.

☆ NAOYA ZENIN: I CHOSE FEMINISM TO AVOID COOKING AND NOW I’M THE FACE OF TRANS RIGHTS BECAUSE SHE SAT NEXT TO ME

Naoya Zenin was a lot of things: heir to a multi-billion dollar legacy, self-proclaimed alpha male, misogynist extraordinaire with the subtlety of a wrecking ball, and — God help the campus — now a student in WGS 204: Women and Gender in the Modern Age. He sat like he was being punished, slouched so far down his seat it was a miracle he hadn’t slipped to the floor entirely. His expression was one of perpetual disapproval, mouth in a grim line, as if just existing in this class was somehow beneath him. And in his own words, it was.

“Gender is a social construct, not a personality trait,” his professor said, gesturing passionately at a slide on transgender rights and systemic marginalization.

Naoya snorted. Loudly.

“If it’s a construct, maybe they should stop reconstructing it every five seconds.”

A groan passed like a wave through the room, as if half the class had just been collectively punched in the face by pure ignorance. Someone in the back whispered, “Jesus fucking Christ,” and the professor paused, blinking slowly, mouth slightly open like she couldn’t believe she was dealing with this on a Tuesday morning. Naoya sat back, arms crossed. Smug, proud, and very unaware of the thousand-yard stares being directed at the back of his head. And then—

SLAM.

The door cracked open, the light from the hallway pouring in like a spotlight from heaven itself. 

And in you came.

Time slowed.

“Sorry! Sorrysorrysorrysorry — I missed the first bus and then the elevator in hall B broke again and—”

You were flustered, sure — late and breathless — but the chaos only made it worse. The way your hair stuck slightly to your cheek, the way your coat hung off one shoulder, your fingers fumbling to push your ID card into your bag as you mouthed another “sorry!” at the stunned professor like a fever dream in sneakers. You were rambling to her, but she was too busy experiencing ego death in real time to even acknowledge you. It was cinematic.

To Naoya, it was a fucking epiphany.

He sat up.

Fully upright. Spine erect, arms uncrossed, shoulders rolled back like a man coming alive for the first time. Like she’s beauty, she’s grace, she just saved me from a discrimination case.

A miracle.

Your perfume hit him next — not strong, just barely there, but enough. Fuck. It smelled like whatever self-respect he had left was about to rot in hell. You scanned the room, then spotted the empty seat next to him. And Naoya Zenin — top 5 least emotionally available men on campus — made space.

Like, physically moved his things.

A girl behind him gasped.

You slid into the empty seat next to him, dropping your bag and exhaling. Your perfume hit him like a physical slap again. He looked away, then looked again. 

And just like that, the campus’ biggest asshole about feminism, equity, and anything remotely ‘woke’ was suddenly blinking like a deer caught in the bisexual lighting of his conscience. You let out a breathless sigh, and Naoya felt something dislodge in his chest. An organ, maybe. Or a soul. Long gone.

“Hey,” you whispered, brushing hair from your face. “What’d I miss?”

Naoya cleared his throat. The rest of the class was now actively ignoring him — he’d burned his social credibility to the ground ten minutes ago — so they didn’t notice the sudden tonal whiplash.

He blinked twice. His mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again.

“Uhhh,” he said, scrambling mentally, every hateful comment about this class evaporating into the ether. “We were talking about, uh, trans rights. Y’know. How, uh... society should, like… respect them more. Obviously.” 

You blinked. “Oh wow. Good. That's important.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, voice suddenly patient, hushed. “Like, I think people forget how hard it is, like, navigating identity and all. They don’t choose to be — I mean, no one chooses — like, society just makes it harder, y’know?”

You smiled. Smiled. “Wow. That’s actually really thoughtful.”

Naoya’s brain bluescreened. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. “I think about stuff.”

The irony was thick enough to spread on toast and then chew on. Naoya Zenin, a man who once claimed feminism was “just a phase like astrology” and was “what girls cry about when they can’t lift a dumbbell” was now sitting beside a pretty stranger and reciting Queer Theory 101 like he was born under Judith Butler’s guidance. His voice stayed low the rest of class and occasionally, he even nodded at the professor’s points. Once, he even scribbled something down.

The professor didn’t notice. She was too emotionally dehydrated to engage further with him. The rest of the class assumed he’d finally shut the hell up. But you? You leaned a little closer every time he whispered an explanation, wide-eyed and genuinely interested. “That’s so messed up,” you said once, about a statistic he half-remembered from a slide. “Thank you for telling me.” 

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. He would later Google every slide from today’s class. In private.

And so, the semester began: Naoya Zenin, accidental ally, one seat away from the only person who could make him behave like a human being. The irony? It was just getting started.

Exam season descended like a curse. Students walked around campus in three day old hoodies, clutching caffeine like holy relics, some half-crying, others fully dead inside. And somewhere amidst it all, Naoya Zenin sat in the third-floor library, clutching a copy of “Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center” like it was both radioactive and sacred. He was pale, possibly sweaty. Not from the pressure of exams — no, Naoya didn’t stress. He was genetically and spiritually incapable of caring this much. 

But here he was, highlighting Bell Hooks and mouthing her quotes like incantations. He hadn’t even bought the damn book. As a matter of fact, he refused to. He called it “liberal propaganda” in week one, said it’d “pollute his shelf energy.”

And yet. Here he was, in the trenches of feminism. Elbow-deep in Judith Butler and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The library copy was so well-worn from his midnight cramming that the spine cracked when he opened it. His bookshelf at home remained a cursed shrine of “The 48 Laws of Power,” “Rich Dad Poor Dad,” and “Why Men Deserve More.” His course textbooks? They lived in the zippered compartment of his backpack, like a dirty secret. But none of that mattered when you smiled and asked, “Can we have another study session?” 

And God. God, he would have written a dissertation on post-structuralist feminist theory if you so much as blinked at him encouragingly.

“Okay,” he said one evening, lounging in the study room like he wasn’t mentally on fire, “Intersectionality. Coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1989, which talks about how overlapping identities like race, gender, and class create complex systems of oppression.”

You blinked. “You know the year?”

“...I know many things,” he said stiffly. 

You nodded, impressed. Naoya felt light-headed.

Another time, you leaned close over your notes and said, “Can you explain ecofeminism again? I didn't get the connection.” And Naoya, Naoya Zenin, who once claimed nature documentaries made him feel “beta,” launched into a whole breakdown on how patriarchal systems exploit both women and the environment, casually referencing Vandana Shiva like she was a friend of the family.

He even made a diagram. A. Fucking. Diagram.

By the third study session, you were calling him “so smart.”

By the fourth, he was rewriting his midterm essay to sound more inclusive.

By the fifth, he was correcting other people in class. 

“Uh, actually,” he said to a guy who confused gender identity with gender expression, “Those are different concepts. Read the module again, bro.” 

The class started. You beamed. Naoya floated.

Exam week hit, and Naoya studied like the fate of your friendship depended on it. Because maybe it did. Maybe if he just got one thing wrong — if he mixed up Judith Butler and Simone de Beauvoir, God forbid — you’d stop looking at him like he was safe. And Naoya, king of masculine fragility, needed you to keep thinking he was worth your time.

He wrote essays in APA format. He cited. He footnoted. And when results day came around, it was biblical. The professor — a woman who once looked at Naoya like he was the living embodiment of male disappointment — cried. Real, unfiltered, mid-forties academic tears. “This—” she sniffled, waving his graded paper like a diploma, “This is why we don’t give up on our students.”

The class was dead silent. Several jaws dropped. Someone clapped. You, glowing beside him, told everyone, “See? I told you Naoya wasn’t that bad. He topped the class!”

Naoya didn’t speak. He couldn’t. His soul had left his body the moment you said topped the class. He sat still, processing the reality: He, Naoya Zenin, was now the official number one feminist in WGS 204. And worse? You were looking at him with literal pride in your eyes.

He was neck-deep in feminist quicksand. And you, smiling, sweet, oblivious you, were pushing him in deeper with every compliment. 

He dry heaved a little as the class passed around his graded essay like it was a sacred relic. You whispered, “You have to help me next semester too.” And he whispered back, “...I hate myself.” 

And you just smiled, so grateful, so fucking proud of him.

He was doomed.

☆ GETO SUGURU: I STOPPED ARGUING IN POLITICAL SCIENCE BECAUSE SHE MADE ONE POINT AND NOW I’M IN LOVE

If there’s one thing Suguru Geto cannot fucking stand, it’s being wrong.

Not even in the conventional, “Oops, I goofed” sense — no, morally, intellectually, ontologically wrong. He prides himself on being the sharpest mind in any room. His thoughts are not just thoughts; they’re theoretical frameworks. His arguments have footnotes. Citations. He quotes Gramsci like he’s invoking scripture and once corrected the professor mid-lecture for misusing “normative.”

He thrives on being right — not just factually, but intellectually, morally, philosophically, even. His brain is a steel trap. His arguments, ironclad. His tone? So assured you’d think he wrote the UN charter himself. In every debate, he's the guy who quotes obscure theorists like he's on a first-name basis with them — "well, as Chantal said in 1985..." — and if someone dares to cut in, God help them. He turns his head slow, neck taut, like he’s physically resisting the urge to pounce.

Debate, to him, is not a discussion. It's a blood sport. And political science? God's playground. His colosseum, even.

A whole class where everyone thinks their opinion is the most nuanced? Perfect. Let him feast. Well, he thought it’d be perfect — a class full of wannabe activists and half-baked libertarians ripe for intellectual evisceration. And for the first few weeks, he was thriving. Sitting in the back, all in black, with a glint in his eye that said, fucking try me. But no. It was more like a zoo of amateur philosophers, liberal arts kids fresh off a summer of reading The Communist Manifesto once, and the occasional future politician who had already learned to speak without saying anything.

Geto, meanwhile, had no patience for “devil’s advocate” takes or vague moral relativism. He’d sit there, rings on his fingers, resting his chin on his hand like a villain plotting a coup d’état, just waiting to be triggered. And when he was, oh boy. He'd raise one eyebrow, shift in his seat, and lace his fingers together like a church steeple. Then he’d go in. His rebuttals weren’t loud — no, they were cutting, calculated. Not once raising his voice, but commanding the room like he’d just cast a spell that made everyone question their degree.

As a matter of fact, he didn’t speak often. But when he did, it was like someone dropped a thesis in the room. He never raised his voice — he didn’t need to. Just leaned back, tapped his pen once, and said shit like: “You’re collapsing the distinction between procedural and substantive democracy. I suggest you revise your understanding of Dahl.”

And then he’d smirk, while the poor soul opposite him melted into their chair. Classic Geto.

So today, when someone dares to refute his point — on transitional justice, no less, one of his strongest suits — he’s already rolling up his rhetorical sleeves. He’s just finished saying, cool as ice: 

“Truth commissions without retributive mechanisms become spectacles of memory. Symbolic, yes. But restorative? Rarely.”

And then someone two rows ahead — a voice he doesn’t recognize — says:

“I actually disagree. I think you’re overestimating the necessity of punitive justice. In societies undergoing democratization, restorative models like the South African TRC weren’t just symbolic. They were foundational to building participatory legitimacy.”

Geto turns his head. Like, snaps it. Because who the fuck—?

But then he sees you.

You, leaning casually on one elbow, speaking like this is a side conversation you’re having with history itself. Sitting there in a dress shirt, one foot tucked under your leg, talking through your point like you were still working it out. Your hair kept falling into your face and you pushed it back absently, totally unaware that the most arrogant man in the department had just gone silent. You don’t have notes, you’re not grandstanding. You’re just explaining. And the worst part? You’re not wrong.

Geto had a retort on his tongue, but it fizzled. Like pop rocks. Sugar, static, and nothing left but the weird sweetness of realizing he was… listening.

He's blinking, staring, processing not just your argument but also the way your hand absentmindedly tugs at your sleeve, the way your brow furrows just slightly when you try to recall a date. He opens his mouth.

“…Huh,” he muttered. You turned slightly to find him staring at you. You blinked. The professor — who had already leaned back, anticipating another of Geto’s intellectual executions — hesitates. “Mr. Geto?”

He blinks again. And then he says, slow but certain:

“She's right.”

Half the class gasps. A pen drops somewhere, and the professor visibly chokes on his thermos tea. Even the guy next to Geto turned and whispered, “What the fuck?”

And you? You turn around slightly, confused for half a second — and then just smile. A soft, polite nod, like this was a normal academic exchange and not the moment Suguru Geto’s personality dissolved in real time. And Geto — the man who’d argued with someone for forty-five minutes over a typo in the syllabus — found himself smiling back.

Like a simp. Like a man who, for once in his life, didn’t need to be right. He just needed to hear you speak again.

You turn back around, and Geto just sits there, staring at the back of your head like it holds the secrets of the polis. He's not even mad. He's fascinated. A bit dazed. Maybe humbled. Definitely down bad. He mutters under his breath, to no one in particular, “...Fuck. I didn't even think of that.”

His friend beside him glances over. 

“You good, bro?”

Geto sighs, leans back in his chair, eyes still fixed on you.

“No, I'm in love.”

Every second after that class was a quiet, invisible vow from Suguru Geto to the universe. He’d rewrite entire political timelines if it meant seeing you right. He’d dismantle historiography itself. Pull out case studies and manipulate them like marionettes until they bowed in favor of your thesis.

Because if you said “reconciliation over retribution,” then he’d drag every ICC ruling through the mud until the literature reflected just that.

You were right. And if you weren’t? Then the world was wrong. It was that simple.

So when you wave him over in the campus library a week later — soft smile, denim jacket sleeves cuffed, highlighter uncapped between your fingers — and ask, tilting your head, “Hey, what was that argument about the other day? Y’know, before you agreed with me in class?” He smiles back, expression unreadable except for the way too long eye contact. 

“Mm. Nothing worth remembering.”

He slides into the seat across from you, loosening his collar, as if the person he verbally decapitated ten minutes before talking to you wasn’t now recovering in the bathroom, sobbing into the syllabus. “Just a poor attempt at claiming that carceral justice should remain the dominant framework in post-conflict states.” He shrugs. “Anyone who reads even one transitional justice ethnography knows that’s laughable.”

You blink. “Oh… okay. I was just wondering. You two looked intense.” You flash him that easy smile again and it slices through his ego like sunlight on ice. And Geto — the man who’s turned entire group discussions into academic tribunals — just laughs softly and shakes his head. “It's fine. People need a reality check.”

And when you frown, lower your eyes to your notes and sigh, “Ugh. I don't think I get this part about deliberative democracy vs participatory democracy. The reading was so vague.” His brows knit together instantly as he already reaches for your printout. 

“No, you’re fine. The text is poorly structured. But your instinct is right — look, here’s how I'd explain it.”

He leans forward, scribbling little diagrams in the margins. “Deliberative focuses on rational discourse, like in institutionalized settings — think Habermas, where consensus is the goal. But participatory democracy leans more on inclusion, on the act of engagement itself, even without formal consensus. They intersect, but they're distinct.”

You nod slowly, chewing on your lip, and he catches the way your brow furrows again — just slightly — and he’s already flipping pages.

“Look, here’s an example. If you're unsure, use the 1989 Brazilian constitution drafting process — that's always solid. And hey,” he lowers his voice, chin propped on his hand, “You’re not wrong. You just need a clearer framework.” You look up at him again, warm with that kind of grateful, unknowing admiration that crushes him every single time. 

“You’re such a good friend, Suguru.”

Oh, God. The f-word. Geto smiles like someone just handed him a live grenade. “Yeah,” he says, voice a little too even. “Friend. Sure.”

But he swallows the chaos in his chest. Now's not the time to blow up the diplomatic bridge. You’ve got a debate to prep for. He's your teammate. You’re going up against third-years. Big names in the department. People who throw around constructivism and realist pluralism like party tricks. But you? You've got Suguru Geto.

And when the day comes, and your voice shakes ever so slightly during your opening statement, he’s already watching from his chair, eyes soft, nodding slowly like he’s willing your words into the world. And later, when you step back and whisper that you’re unsure whether your rebuttal landed—

He leans in, low enough that only you hear it. “You were flawless. And even if you weren’t — don’t worry. I'll dismantle whatever part didn’t land.”

And he does. He tailors his own segment to support yours. Shifts his citations, reframes the argument, creates a neat little circle of theory where your point was not only correct — it was inevitable. By the time the debate ends, the panel is murmuring praise and the audience is lowkey stunned. You beam at him. “We crushed that. Couldn’t have done it without you.”He just shrugs, eyes soft. “Nah, you crushed it. I just made sure the world kept up.”

☆ RYOMEN SUKUNA: I SKIPPED A FRAT FIGHT AND BECAME A HISTORY NERD BECAUSE SHE ASKED FOR DIRECTIONS

Sukuna never chose Medieval History. He clicked it.

Half-baked, half-asleep, joints still smouldering in the ashtray of his brain the night before course registration — he saw one of those trippy, animated TED-Ed videos on knights and siege towers, thought “Yo, that’s hard,” and signed himself up like it was a Netflix trial. In theory? Swords, castles, bloodshed. In reality? Feudal structures, canonical texts, and three lectures in a row on land distribution in the Carolingian Empire.

So by week two, he was out. Not officially — he still showed up in the system, technically enrolled — but mentally? He was back on the court, back in his jersey, skipping classes, getting high, hosting parties with themes so stupid it’s a miracle no one died. Medieval History was a minor, anyway. He could flunk and still graduate.

But then there was you. In a sundress and sneakers, map in hand, walking around like the campus was a medieval city-state you were trying to invade. He was heading to the basketball court, already halfway through a protein bar and texting the group chat “yo strt the game w/out m i’m takin a piss” — when you walked up to him and asked, polite and lost, “Hey, sorry, do you know where the Medieval History class is?”

And something in him short-circuited. Because one, you clearly had no clue who he was — no fear, no swooning, no "Omg Sukuna?!" And two, your voice made Charlemagne sound like a relevant topic.

He swallowed his curse and his ego in the same breath. “Oh yeah, yeah — was just headed there.” You blinked. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he nods, all casual, slipping his phone into his pocket and doing the mental math to remember where the fuck that classroom even is. “You new?” he asks, voice lower, smoother, almost soft. 

“Just transferred this week,” you smiled. “It’s kinda hard finding things.” He nods, like he gets it, even though he’s been skipping that specific class for three months.

“C'mon, I'll walk you.”

Then — before he can stop himself —

“You want me to carry your bag or somethin’?”

You laugh, confused but amused. “I think I can manage.” 

He smiles. Charming. Not smug. (He's trying, okay?)

And as the two of you walk, he somehow starts talking about Merovingian succession crises like he didn’t sleep through that entire unit. He's pulling stuff out of his ass — but it sounds right. It sounds smart.

“Yeah, like, the power structures back then were mad fragile. You kill one heir ‘n the whole bloodline goes to shit — like, succession wasn’t even secure ‘cause they didn’t believe in primogeniture yet, y’know?”

“...Huh. That’s actually really interesting.”

He has never tried so hard to sound like he gives a shit about something that wasn’t himself. He even holds the door open for you. 

And when you both walk into the Medieval History classroom — you all wide-eyed, him all tall and smug and trying not to trip over his own ego — the old professor chokes. Literally wheezes, scrambling for his inhaler like he’s seen a ghost. 

“Mr. Sukuna. Good of you to finally grace us with your presence.” 

Sukuna just smiles and shrugs like he wasn’t being summoned in three group chats for a 5v5 scrimmage right now. “Yeah, had to walk someone to class. Wouldn’t want her to miss the lecture on, uh—”

he turns to you with a wink,

 “–Anglo-saxon law codes.”

You laugh, none the wiser. The class stares. The professor stares harder. But Sukuna? Sukuna just drops into the seat next to you, ignoring the buzz of his phone lighting up with texts:

brokie (owes me $30 + $10 + $40) [9:46 am]: bruh get ur ass here rume [9:49 am]: don’t tell me ur skipping for a girl ugly white haired incel [10:00 am]: she better be royal lineage if ur missing this fight

He doesn’t even look. You turn to him mid-lecture and whisper, “What’s up with the prof? He looked like he saw a demon when you walked in.” And Sukuna, with the audacity of a man who rewrote his personality in ten minutes flat, grins and murmurs back, “No clue. Guess he just missed me.” 

And now? He's suddenly very interested in medieval history. He's got sources to cite. He's got seats to sit in. He's got… you.

And for once in his life, Sukuna thinks maybe he won’t drop out of this class. Might even pass it.

You know. For educational purposes.

—

The campus hadn’t seen Ryomen Sukuna in three months.

Not at parties, not at frat meetings, not even in the background of Instagram stories where he’d usually be shirtless and belligerent, chugging out of a funnel or doing shots off someone’s stomach. It was as if the legend of Sukuna — the frat prince, the party tyrant, the undefeated king of keg stands — had simply... evaporated.

By the first month, it was whispers.

“Yo, where’s Sukuna?”

“Dude’s probably in a coma.”

“Nah, I heard he got arrested after that Halloween party. You remember the fire?”

By the second month, it was spiraling.

“I think he dropped out.”

“Dude got expelled.”

“I heard he joined a cult. Medieval-themed or some shit.”

No one had the answer, because no one had seen him — no one that mattered anyway. No one that lived in the party circuit. Because truthfully? Sukuna hadn’t dropped out. He hadn’t died. He hadn’t been abducted by monks.

He was in the library. 

Voluntarily sitting under cold fluorescent lights with you, scribbling notes and memorizing things like the date of the battle of Hastings, and getting smacked on the shoulder when he tried to argue. 

“Okay, but what if I wrote the dates like — right here, see? It’d blend with my tattoos—”

“Are you seriously trying to cheat on a History final by weaponizing your body art?”

“It's not cheating. It’s being resourceful, babe.”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me.”

He pouts like a sad, bruised puppy. A six-foot-four wall of arrogance and ink, deflating when you scold him.

He listens. He rewrites his notes. He even erases his “tattoo calendar.” And when he asks if he can borrow your highlighters, you don’t even blink — because to you, Sukuna is just the guy who sits beside you in Medieval History. Quiet, funny, a little dense, but very determined. You’ve never seen the version of him that the rest of campus swears is a mythological beast. 

You’ve never heard the legends of how he once drank beer out of a traffic cone. How he slept with two rival sorority presidents in the same night. How he literally ran security at every house party because no one would dare challenge him.

Nope. To you, he’s just Sukuna, who says things like “Do you think if I put ‘knights’ as a theme for my next birthday, people’ll bring me swords?” and eats your snacks when you aren’t looking. But to everyone else? 

Ryomen Sukuna’s name showed up on the department topper board and people lost their fucking minds.

It was printed out in clean black ink:

MEDIEVAL HISTORY – SPRING SEMESTER TOPPERS

#2: RYOMEN, SUKUNA – 89.2%

And the scream that left Gojo’s mouth when he passed by the bulletin board nearly broke a window. 

Toji dropped his protein bar. Uraume looked like they had seen the end of days, and even the student union president gasped audibly and had to sit down.

“Is this real?” Gojo whispered.

“Is it a typo?”

“Sukuna?? As in — kegstand-Sukuna???”

Toji muttered under his breath, “No way that bastard beat me in anything.” 

And just like that, a pilgrimage began. Students in sweats, hoodies, and half-dead finals week eyes, flocked to the history board. Phones came out. Pictures were taken. Memes were made in real-time: “Sukuna has upgraded from shots to scholarly citations.” And meanwhile, you were there too — holding your printed essay, scanning the board out of curiosity. 

“Oh hey, Sukuna! Look, you’re number two! That’s so cool.” 

He blinked. “Uh… yeah,” he shrugged, trying not to look like he was having an internal stroke. “Guess the studying paid off.”

“You didn’t even tell me you were that smart!” You looked genuinely impressed, nudging his arm.

“Dunno. Didn’t think it mattered.”

You smile. Behind you, someone takes a photo of him like he’s Bigfoot. And you, ever oblivious, tilt your head. “Why are there so many people looking at you?”

Sukuna shrugs. “No idea. Maybe they just like historians now.”

He grins, and he’ll keep grinning as long as you never find out that fratland has declared him officially missing, and that the guy once known as the king of parties is now spending his nights elbow-deep in primary sources and peer-reviewed articles. God help him if anyone sees the matching medieval-themed bookmarks you gave him last week. He's doomed. 

But then you smile at him again. And really? Maybe it’s worth the death of a legacy.

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO: SHE CALLED ME DUMB IN PHYSIOLOGY AND NOW I KNOW WHAT AN ENDOCRINE GLAND IS

Toji Fushiguro chose Human Physiology because, in his words, “Bro, I’m the peak of human physiology.”

Shirtless in his dorm mirror at 12:30am, flexing with a joint hanging off his lips and a bag of Cheetos in hand, he thought it was the smartest idea he ever had. He looked like a walking anatomy chart — biceps shredded, abs defined like a Greek statue, veins prominent enough that someone could probably trace his vascular system with a sharpie.

So when the course application portal blinked open, and Sukuna simply texted,

strawberry shortcake [11:47 pm]: medieval history 

Toji shrugged, selected Human Physiology, took another hit, and muttered, “Guess I'll be the specimen.”

It was all downhill from there.

The first class hit him like a truck. Terms flying over his head like “sarcoplasmic reticulum,” “acetylcholine receptors,” and “sinoatrial node.” The only thing he caught was when someone mentioned “skeletal muscle,” and even then, he leaned to the guy next to him and whispered, “They’re talking about gains, right?” The dude didn’t even respond, just shifted his chair away. 

The professor was a wiry old man who wore Crocs and had the excitement of a caffeinated squirrel. He moved like he had six different tendons operating independently of each other. “Welcome to the miracle of the human body! Today we’re talking about the hypothalamus! Anyone know what that does?”

Toji raised a hand. The professor blinked.

“Yes, Mr. Fushiguro?”

“Does it… help you bulk?”

Dead silence. Someone coughed.

“No,” the professor said slowly, like he was speaking to a dog. “It regulates things like temperature and hunger. Internal balance.” Toji nodded like he understood. 

He did not.

Because everything he knew about homeostasis was just that he sweated a lot at the gym and drank protein shakes. Once someone in class asked about the neuromuscular junction, and Toji genuinely thought it had something to do with a sports injury. The problem was, this course wasn’t about looking good — it was about being a nerd. People in class actually knew the difference between “smooth” and “striated” muscle. They knew that the myelin sheath wasn’t something you picked up at a dentist’s office.

The worst part? No one was fun. Not even hot in an interesting way. Just blank stares, open laptops, and girls with ponytails who chewed gum like it was a form of protest. He leaned back in class one day, muttering under his breath, “This is gonna be a long fuckin’ semester.”

The guy beside him replied without looking up, “Language.”

“Ya wanna step outside, ‘language’?”

“No, I'd like to finish this lecture on vasodilation, thanks.”

Toji groaned. He had once broken someone’s nose in a bar fight and felt less pain than sitting through this.

He missed the frat. He missed Sukuna and the other white-haired freak (though he would never admit that). Hell, he missed failing in peace. And yet, he showed up.  Begrudgingly. With a pocketed switch knife in class, tank tops that showed off his delts, and a water bottle the size of a small child. 

When the professor drew the digestive tract on the board, he muttered, “Yo, that’s me after Taco Bell.” No one laughed, but that was fine. Toji wasn’t here to make friends. He just needed to survive this course. And maybe — just maybe — someone in here would eventually be hot and interesting enough to make him care about the difference between the ileum and the jejunum.

Until then, he’d sit in the back, scroll through Sam Sulek’s TikToks, and occasionally mutter things like, “Yo is it just me or does the sternocleidomastoid sound like a dinosaur?”

—

Toji didn’t get flustered. He got annoyed, he got pissed, he got violent if he really had to — but flustered? Nah.

Until you came along with your smartass remarks and your sharp little grin and your little nerd girl brain that somehow made words like “epithelial tissue” sound like roasts from God himself. You sat next to him out of nowhere one day — no hesitation, no fear, just a bag dropped beside his massive gym duffel and a chirped, “Yo, Popeye. That seat’s not taken, right?”

And Toji, who had barked at three other people for looking in his direction that week, just grunted and nodded. You didn’t ask dumb questions, instead you asked things like, “Did you forget the Mitochondria again or do you just hate the powerhouse of the cell?”

And somehow, that shit landed. He stared at you, blinking once. Then twice.

“You tryna start something?”

“You couldn’t handle it.”

What the fuck. He was supposed to be offended. Instead, he just swallowed his pride and… 

opened his textbook. 

You were dangerous like that.

When he mumbled something about skeletal muscles and their “activation time” being just like his reps, you had the audacity to raise a brow and go, “Oh? So the same muscles that fail on your third rep?” And Toji — Toji Fushiguro — who once body slammed a guy for making a fat joke in the gym, just sank in his chair and muttered, “Man, fuck off.”

The entire row turned like it was a soap opera scene. He had never said that with less venom. And you? You just popped a highlighter cap with your teeth and kept on explaining the muscular system.

He hated it. Hated that you were smart and funny and that your perfume always smelled faintly like citrus and library books. And most of all, that you were the only one in the class who didn’t stare at him like he was a human barbell. Instead, you did things like gently tap his notebook with your pen and say, “So this is the respiratory cycle. Think of it like your pre-workout and cooldown routine. Inhale, exhale, gas exchange. Your lungs are doing cardio for you.”

“So you're saying I got lungs of steel.”

“I'm saying you have no idea what your own body is doing.”

He scratched his head and muttered, “...Damn. Alright.”

What was he supposed to do? You helped him. Not in a “pity the dumb gym bro” kind of way. But like you were actually invested. You explained how lactic acid buildup worked by comparing it to that one time he overdid legs and couldn’t walk for two days. And when he groaned about the endocrine system being boring, you whispered, “You know how you get those ‘gains’? Hormones. Testosterone. Regulated by glands. Do not skip this chapter or you’ll flunk.”

Toji blinked.

“...That’s hot.”

“What, hormones?”

“You talkin’ science like that. I'd almost let you tutor me.”

“Almost?”

“I didn't say I would.”

You threw a pencil at him and he didn’t even dodge. Just caught it, grinning, ears burning under the weight of your teasing. And for the first time in his whole damn academic career, Toji Fushiguro…

actually passed a test. Barely. But the professor handed his paper back with a shocked, “improvement noted,” and a side-eye glance at you like we know who’s responsible. Toji looked at the C+ and muttered, “Yo, you’re a fuckin’ wizard.” 

You just shrugged. “Nah. You’ve got a brain. It’s just hidden under six layers of protein powder and ego.”

God. He'd die for you. But for now? He’d settle for sitting next to you every class, scribbling notes with a confused frown, and letting you roast him with terms like “autonomic nervous system” and “delayed onset muscle soreness.”

It was the closest he’d ever get to falling in love academically.

a/n i don't know what to write here but i'm procrastinating the hate sex fic is what i can tell you..please enjoy this. also sorry i didn't include nanami & choso, i didn't have anything in mind for them </3

[brokenmenswhore]

a proposition: it’s getting serious | poly!marauders

#7

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: not proofread, smut (MDNI 18+), angst, fingering, rough sex

a/n: do you guys like the title of this one because i truly think im so fucking funny

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

He was avoiding you. It was obvious to everyone.

It wasn't like Sirius was your best friend in the world, but you were still close. Then he kissed you. You hadn't heard from him since.

After everything Remus had told you before you and Sirius had kissed, you knew that something was up. It was the only explanation. You knew you hadn't done anything wrong. Whatever this was, it was all Sirius. You didn't want to pry, so you decided to let him come to you whenever he was ready.

But it had been weeks.

In the meantime, you had your fair share of fun with Dorcas and Mary. You told them it was unfair that you had sex with a woman alone once and that it was Marlene, and they worked to rectify it.

Evan was still ravenous any time he was near you, and spent five full days seeking you out between every period, after class, and even sometimes first thing in the morning. You sometimes returned the favor, but only when he wanted it. He was happy to stay in between your legs for hours.

And of course, there was Remus. He hadn't been elaborate about pursuing you, but you oftentimes went to him first when you were feeling experimental or particularly needy. Remus was your first, and you were tethered to him in a way you couldn't explain.

But even he couldn't justify Sirius's avoidance. You could tell that something caused contention between the two of them, but they were best friends, and Sirius hadn't pulled away from him.

You felt like you ruined the group. Like you caused the drama- like you were the problem, no matter how many people told you that wasn't true.

What bothered you the most, other than Sirius avoiding you, was the fact that everyone acted as if they knew why, and just didn't want to tell you. You had interrogated Remus quite a few times, but he acted nonchalant every single time. Any time you asked someone how he was doing or why he was still not talking to you, they would just shrug and change the subject.

You had had enough.

You sat cross-legged on Sirius's bed, making sure your skirt still covered you. He took significantly longer than you anticipated to get back to his dorm, since he had last-minute Quidditch practice and you had no idea. But you knew that he had to come back to his dorm. Eventually.

The moment the door swung open, James spotted you on his bed, and immediately turned around. He pushed past Sirius as Sirius noticed you, and tried to do the same.

James, now behind him, pushed him into the dormitory and slammed the door shut.

Sirius tried to pry it open, but James was standing on the other side, pressing it shut. Sirius took a deep breath and dropped his head before walking over to his desk and dropping his Quidditch bag, completely ignoring you.

“Be back in like an hour!” James called, giggling as you heard his footsteps dissipate.

You waited for him to turn to you, but he never did. He just pretended to go through his bag for a frustratingly long time.

"Sirius?"

No response.

"Talk to me, Sirius."

No response.

You shot upward and got in his personal space.

"Sirius."

"What."

"The fuck do you mean what? You haven't spoken to me in weeks."

"Whoops."

"Siri, c'mon." You dropped the nickname, hoping it would help your case.

"Don't call me that."

"Why not, Siri?"

"Stop."

"Then talk to me, Siri."

Sirius took a deep breath and flared his nostrils, turning to you and looking at you for the first time. "What."

You threw your hands up. "You've been avoiding me, as you know."

"Mm.”

"Don't you think I deserve to know why?"

"I'm not avoiding you."

"Yeah, okay," you rolled your eyes.

"Okay," he repeated in the same tone you used.

You were frustrated, and annoyed, and your confidence faltered as your voice cracked in sadness that you ruined something as you asked, "did I do something wrong?"

Your vulnerability shone through, and it caused Sirius's features to soften. He watched your eyes soften as you nearly cried. You had spent weeks mulling over why Sirius was avoiding you, and you couldn't think if anything wrong that you did, unless maybe you really were that bad of a kisser. Yeah, you had gained a ton of confidence recently, but you weren't made of steel all of a sudden. Around Sirius, you were still that younger little girl who blushed whenever he looked in her direction.

"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong, shit," Sirius said, running his fingers through his hair.

You sniffled to hold back the tears. You were fighting with every cell in your body to appear strong. "Then what is it? Please tell me. Please."

Your voice completely broke on the final word, and tears spilled from your eyes, despite your refusal to acknowledge them.

Sirius immediately pulled you into his arms, holding your head against his chest. "You did nothing wrong," he assured you, "nothing at all. I did."

You pulled away to look up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I fucked up."

"No you didn't," you sniffled, "because we kissed? Why would that be bad?"

"It wasn't, it wasn't," he said, lightly stroking your hair, "that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" your anger was coming back a bit, "because I seem to be the only person you're avoiding, and that's the only thing that's happened between us."

Sirius let out a deep breath. "Y/N, please."

You stepped backward and pulled away from him. "Do you regret inviting me in? Is that what it is? Are you guys planning on kicking me out or something?"

"No, we would never-"

"Or maybe you're just upset about Remus. Is that it? You acted weird when I came to breakfast with bruises. Are you just jealous of Remus and taking it out on me? Huh?"

"I am jealous of Remus," he admitted.

"And you're punishing me for it?"

"I'm not jealous of Remus because he's Remus," Sirius said, "I'm jealous of Remus because of how you are with him."

You knew what he meant. You weren't stupid enough to not acknowledge or know that you had one hell of a connection with him. "So you're mad at me because you wish you had someone to give you what Remus and I have?"

Sirius stared you dead in the face. He was so tired of fighting it.

"I'm mad because I want what you and Remus have, with you."

"All you had to do was say so, and I would have fucked you. That's, like, the whole point of this."

"No-" Sirius threw his hands up and paced. He was trying to figure out how to say the words he'd never thought he would have to, or want to, say.

You watched him run his fingers through his hair again as he looked at you and forced himself to speak. "I don't mean I want you just to fuck you, Y/N, I want you."

You blinked rapidly as you stared at him. His eyes were almost pleading, hoping that he wouldn't be facing rejection.

"Oh," was all you could say. You were in shock.

"Yeah."

You both just stared at one another. Each moment felt like an eternity. Neither of you knew what to say or do.

"How long?"

"What?" Sirius asked.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" you asked, your voice small and quiet.

Sirius shrugged, "in sixth year, well, fifth year for you, James was trying to show us someone in Hufflepuff he hooked up with. It wasn't you, obviously, but we thought you were who he was pointing at, cus the actual girl was like two seats to your right. You looked up and caught me looking at you, and you turned bright red."

You nodded your head slightly and chuckled in disbelief. "Are you fucking with me?"

"No."

Your laugh of disbelief died there.

"You mean to tell me you've been noticing me this entire time?"

"Mhm."

"So- but you signed me up to fuck your friends?"

"I still wanna fuck you, don't get it twisted,” he chuckled. That was the Sirius you knew.

"But-"

"I noticed you before this, Y/N, but it's different actually knowing you. I didn't think you fucking Remus would make me feel like this until I actually met you and got to know you."

"So this is all because I'm fucking Remus?" your heart still couldn't process what your brain understood.

"No, Y/N, for fucks sake, this is all because I've never fallen for somebody before and I don't know how to fucking act. I don't even know how to fuckin' be around you."

Sirius seemed to immediately realize what he said, because his breathing hitched in his throat as he stared at you.

You couldn't breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, Sirius pleaded, "please say something," so quiet that you almost didn't hear it.

"I don't know what to say," you admitted.

Sirius sighed in disappointment, assuming he was getting rejected. "I'm sorry, forget I said anything-“

He turned to try to leave again, but you said "Sirius, wait," and ran up to him, grabbing his arm and trying to spin him back toward you.

He turned to face you, but kept his head up, looking forward instead of at you. He couldn't handle looking you in the eyes as you rejected him.

"Sirius, look at me."

He refused. You touched the side of his face, stroking his cheek lightly with your thumb. "Please look at me."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "No, Y/N, you don't get it, I can't just fuck you and leave it there, and that’s how this is supposed to work, but I just-“

Sirius sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands.

You knelt down in front of him. You gently moved his hands away from his face, and he looked at you, eyes glassy as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“There’s this tether between myself and Remus that I don’t think I can ignore,” you said. You knew it might hurt him, but it was better to be honest if things were hard already.

Sirius interpreted your words in his own way. “Is that what’s holding you back?”

You paused for a moment. “Holding me back from what?”

“Could I have you if I shared you with Remus?”

You were visibly taken aback by his question.

“I can see it in your eyes, Y/N, you can say whatever you want, but you can’t lie to me, not really. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same.”

You couldn’t.

He knew you couldn’t.

“I’ve liked you forever,” you admitted.

“You still blush when I look at you,” he smiled.

“You’ve never looked at me the way you are right now.”

“I have. You just didn’t know what it meant until now.”

Your breath hitched in a light gasp. “Sirius-“

“Please just tell me how you feel,” he said, “and if you say you feel nothing, even if I know it’s not true, I’ll shut the fuck up and leave it be.”

You had to be honest with yourself, and with what you’ve always known and always felt. “I have feelings for you.”

Before Sirius could smile too big, you said, “but I can’t ignore whatever this connection is with Remus.”

Sirius took a deep breath to contemplate his words. “I can share. Remus and I share everything anyway.”

“What about the rest of the group?”

“I really don’t care about the rest of the group.”

You took a second to contemplate your next move. Having Sirius Black to yourself seemed too good to be true. Sirius was always the one you assumed you wouldn’t have a shot with, but if your conversation with Remus taught you anything, it was that Sirius’s reputation wasn’t all too accurate.

Remus. What would he think? You wouldn’t be exclusive with him, but would he get bored of you? Would he be angry that you and Sirius broke the rules, and not want you anymore?

“We have to talk to Remus, obviously,” you said.

Sirius’s head shot up as he looked to your face, contemplating the weight of your words. We. His eyes flickered back and forth between yours desperately as he studied your face. “Are you saying yes?”

Your train of thought was going too far off the rails to even comprehend what he said. “Then we’d have to tell everyone else, but definitely Remus first. And-“

Sirius grabbed your face, his hands on either cheek as he shook your attention back to him. “Are you saying yes.”

You took a deep breath. You’d gotten the sexual experimentation you’d needed. You cared for the rest of the group, but definitely not the way you cared for Remus or Sirius. Sitting there, Sirius holding your face, eyes glassy thinking you didn’t want him, you knew you’d be a fucking idiot to deny him. This is all you’d ever daydreamed of when he would catch your eye from the corner of the room.

“Yes.”

Sirius took one quick moment to smile before he pressed his lips against yours, pulling you closer to him. Your knees shifted against the carpet as you held onto Sirius’s arms. He moved a hand to the back of your head, holding you even closer to him as his lips molded with your own.

You pushed yourself off of your knees, maintaining the kiss as you stood in front of him, his legs spreading apart as he moved to grip your waist.

He pulled away briefly. “I really, really want you to know how much you mean to me,” he said through static breaths, “but I don’t think I can be gentle with you right now.”

You pushed a piece of his hair behind his ear. In a near whisper, you said, “I don’t need you to be gentle with me. We have time.”

“We have time,” he repeated, more to himself than to you, so quiet that you almost didn’t catch it.

You waited for him to process before you made another move. He searched your eyes with his own.

Seemingly in an instant, Sirius realizes the emotional strife was out of his system, but the physical wasn’t. His demeanor shifted as he said, “I wanna fuck you so hard that you forget Remus exists.”

You felt your core pulse at his words. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled you onto his lap. He moved his lips close to yours, but instead of kissing you, he continued to whisper, “you wanna be mine? I’m gonna fucking make you mine.”

“Sirius-“

He didn’t let you speak. He pressed his lips to yours in the most intense kiss you’d experienced yet, his dominant hand gripping your jaw to hold you in place. His other hand grabbed your ass, pressing you down into his lap as he bucked his hips lightly.

Your skirt fanned out onto his stomach, meaning the bulge in his pants pressed directly against your underwear. You could feel yourself soaking through them as the lengthy bulge bucked between your folds.

Sirius’s fingers were so tangled in your hair that you didn’t think he would be able to ever let go. He groaned as he slapped your ass harshly, and you felt the intensity of the moment, taking a chance to gently catch his lower lip between your teeth.

You pulled away lightly, releasing his lip as he looked up at you with lust-blown eyes. “Now where did my innocent little Y/N learn to do that, hm? Remus?” he smirked.

“I’ve never done that to Remus,” you shrugged as if the conversation was casual.

“Oh really?” Sirius smiled, gripping your face with both hands and pushing you even harder onto his bulge, “savin’ some things just for me? Wish you saved yourself for me,” he admitted.

“You kinda scared me,” you admitted back.

Sirius tilted his head like a puppy. “I scared you?”

“Mhm.”

“How so?”

You flushed with embarrassment. “Thought you’d be too rough with me. Didn’t know how much I’d want that.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Too rough, huh? Is that what you want?” He slapped your ass again, moving your hips against him, causing you to gasp, “you want me to be rough with you, huh? Show you what I’ve been wantin’ to do to you this whole time?”

“Please,” you pleaded.

“Again,” he demanded.

“Please, Siri, be rough with me.”

Sirius harshly pulled your face down to his, kissing you again as he, without warning, ripped the fabric of your underwear to expose where he was grinding against.

You squealed and pulled away. “Sirius!”

“What?” he shrugged like nothing had happened.

You stood up, and he pouted, but you could see the concern in his eyes. You quickly pulled your skirt down and discarded the ripped fabric of your underclothes, taking residence on top of him again. You saw his breathing relax when you returned. “I had to get up to take my skirt off anyway!”

Sirius threw his hands up next to his head. “They were in my way.”

“You literally still have your pants and boxers on.”

Sirius smirked. “Y’know, you could help with that, babydoll.”

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, but you couldn’t deny him- he was just so charismatic. Even painfully horny and having just confessed his romantic love for someone for the first time, he laid there with his hands behind his head as you unbuttoned his pants as if he was the sexiest being alive. He kinda was.

You knelt in front of him, trying to unclothe him. You, of course, nervous from trying to maintain the intensity of the moment, could not get his pants fully unbuttoned. Your fingers fumbled with the final button.

“Fucks sake,” Sirius said, doing it for you and removing both his pants and boxers, allowing his cock to spring free directly in front of your face.

You choked on a gasp and coughed.

Sirius didn’t move, he just sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at you. Your eyes were transfixed on his leaking cock, your brain wondering how the fuck you were possibly supposed to suck him off without suffocating.

“Remus is bigger, hun, if you can fit him, you can fit me,” Sirius assures you, worried that you were panicking.

“Remus is… skinnier,” you said.

Sirius laughed. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

You looked up at Sirius, then back to his impressive length. You wrapped your hand around him, and he bit his lip to keep himself from losing control immediately. You began to stroke him, looking up at him through hooded lids as you licked his tip.

He threw his head back, but quickly reset, not wanting to miss a moment of watching you take him in your mouth.

You sank down onto him, doing your best to keep your cheeks hollow to accommodate for his girth. You gave yourself a few moments to adjust to his size and the feeling of a comfortable rhythm, before you began to move at a steady pace, using your hand to cover any ground that your mouth couldn’t.

You gazed up to Sirius, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly, his eyes fixed directly on you. You fought to maintain eye contact, even though the angle he was sitting at made it difficult to look up so far.

“Fuck, dollface, just like that,” he moaned, using one hand to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear.

He began to stroke your cheek with his thumb as you sucked him, the gesture so intimate and sweet during such a filthy act. You moaned in surprise at the contact, and Sirius growled in response.

“Shit, can I fuck your mouth?” he asked.

You pulled away, still stroking him with your hand as you said, “You can do whatever you want with me.”

The noise that came from Sirius’s throat was purely primal.

He gathered your hair into a ponytail, holding tightly as the other hand positioned himself in front of you.

“Open.”

You opened your mouth and he immediately pushed himself in as far as he could, his tip hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

He pulled back out, and said “easy, bunny, relax,” before pushing back in again.

You clenched the muscles in your throat as he did it again, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You coughed and moaned around him, but kept your composure the best you could.

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructed, “that’s it, that’s it.”

With him stilled, you were able to adjust to the feeling of him at the back of your throat, and adjust to comfortably breathing through your nose. You slackened your jaw, hollowing out your cheeks. You got yourself in a position comfortable enough that you didn’t have to move- Sirius could just fuck your mouth as he pleased.

You looked up at him and moaned around him, signaling that you were okay and he could move.

He began to push your head down, your hands bracing yourself against the mattress as he moved your head via your ponytail.

You fought like hell to look up at him, having been told several times by everyone in the group that boys liked eye contact during head, and they were right. The moment your eyes met Sirius’s, he began to fuck your mouth even faster, his pupils blowing and growing darker at the sight.

“Fucking hell, fuck,” he moaned.

You were so ridiculously turned on by the sight and sounds of Sirius, and felt confidence build from your core upwards. You reached a hand up and gently cradled his balls, squeezing ever so slightly as he continued to fuck your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, extending the word as he finally gave in and his back slammed against the mattress. His hand never left your head, but it did loosen, and you took the opportunity to take control of the pace.

You didn’t let up, but rather tried to push yourself as much as you could, sinking yourself as deep as you possibly could on Sirius. You fought through the gags, and your nose grazed Sirius’s lower stomach.

“Fuck, fuck, don’t do that or I’m gonna fucking come down your throat,” he said.

So you did it again.

“Shit, please, I need to be in you to come,” he pleaded.

You liked hearing him whiny and desperate for you, so you held him in your throat and swallowed, constricting around him.

Sirius bucked his hips involuntarily, pushing himself to the absolute limit. It was too much for you, and you pulled away to catch your breath.

Despite his leaking cock and evident need, Sirius took the opportunity to hook his arms under yours, hoisting you up to a stand.

“But-“

“I am so not ready to be done with you yet,” he said.

Sirius stood and traded places with you, forcing you onto the mattress and standing between your legs.

He pulled your shirt upwards, and you raised your arms to allow for him to remove the garment and throw it off to the side. He skillfully unclasped your bra blindly, throwing it in the same direction he had your shirt, leaving you bare naked beneath him.

“Merlin’s fucking beard,” he said, his hands roaming the newly exposed skin.

You felt yourself stiffen underneath his touch, the direct attention on your exposed body causing you to be nervous.

“Oh, baby, you’re fucking beautiful,” he said, his voice full of adoration, like you were the most ethereal being he had ever seen, and he couldn’t comprehend that he got to see you like this.

“You called me baby.”

Sirius met your eyes in concern. “Is that okay?”

“I like it.”

Sirius smiled and resumed staring at you, studying every curve of your body like he would never get to see it again.

As much as you appreciated the adoration, you needed some part of him inside of you, and you needed it now. You knew of one surefire way to pull Sirius back into a rough, possessive headspace. It was playing with fire, but fuck you liked the heat.

“Only Remus calls me baby.”

Sirius’s hands stopped. He slowly looked up to your face, surprise at your confidence evident on his face.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged, running a hand down your entire torso, not even bothering to prep you before he roughly inserted two fingers into you, “is that right?”

“Mhm,” you moaned as Sirius began to viciously scissor and pump his fingers in and out of you, your wetness enough that you didn’t need any extra preparation.

Your hips began to swirl beneath him, and Sirius pressed his palm to your clit, adding to the immediate intensity of the stimulation.

“Only Remus calls you baby, huh?” he said, his own anger working himself up to fuck his fingers into you rougher and rougher, faster and faster, “then I guess only Remus can make you come like this too, huh? If Remus is so fucking special.”

“Fuck,” was all you could cry out.

“You’re mine, you understand that? I can call you whatever the fuck I want, baby. What are you gonna do, go cry to Remus about it? Would you rather have his fingers inside of you? Huh?” Sirius was seething as he gripped your jaw and forced you to look at him with his unoccupied hand, “would you?”

“N-no,” you gasped out.

“Oh, but you seem to be so fucking obsessed with him, don’t you?” His pace was fucking ruthless, and your entire body was writhing and convulsing beneath him as you instinctively tried to escape the intensity, but he wasn’t letting up. His face was mere inches from yours, and he watched you come undone as he spoke, anger mixing with lust. “You only ever wanna have Remus make you come, huh? Don’t even know what you’re missing. You like this? Does it feel good? Because if he’s so great, I’ll just go get Remmy and he can bite you some more.”

Sirius was angry beyond the point of coming back. He needed you to disagree; he needed you to want him so bad and come so hard that you couldn’t even consider Remus.

“So good, please, I want you, just you-“

Sirius moved his hand to your throat, applying light pressure, mostly to hold you in place, rather than cut off air flow.

You knew Sirius’s anger was not only from a place of lust and longing, but a place of hurt. Sirius was never needed or wanted, and you knew he compared himself to Remus relentlessly.

“I only want you, Siri, please, wanted you for so long-“ you could barely get words out through the strangled moans and gasps, “it’s always been about you, fuck- fuck, I’m gonna- fuck, Siri, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah? Didn’t know you could come for anyone but Remus.”

Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes as you writhed uncontrollably under Sirius’s harsh grasp. He curled his fingers as he pumped, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Please, please, Siri, come- gonna come- please-“

“Should I just go get-“

You cut off Sirius’s sassiness before he could say the name again. “Fucks sake, Sirius, please,” you gasped, his grip on your throat loosening when he heard your tone, “I only want you, I don’t fucking care about Remus right now, please make me come, Merlin- fuck- I need you-“

Sirius pulled his fingers out of you entirely.

Your breath was erratic and quick as you looked up at him, almost in disbelief that he had just done that. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Your core ached and clenched around nothing.

“W- wh- I-“

Sirius dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his body shaking slightly, and you heard his sniffles and gasps from beside your head. In an instant, the walls crashed down.

“Siri?” you asked, your voice gentle and calm.

Sirius lifted himself on his arms and looked down at you, a tear still falling down his cheek.

You wiped the tear away and tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear, stroking his cheek with your thumb, as he had done to you earlier. “You okay?”

“Just worked myself up a little too much, ‘m sorry,” he sniffled, “‘n you said you need me.”

“Mhm,” you smiled, “you can’t compare yourself to Remus all the time, Sirius. Two completely different relationships.”

“But you always went to him, and you never came to me, it was always him-“

“Sirius, you said it yourself, we can’t just fuck around and call it a day. It’s always been different with us, you know that,” you spoke.

“I’m just always second, and I just-“

“I shouldn’t have said only Remus calls me baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to work you up that much,” you said.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he took a deep breath, “‘m sorry. I’m good, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not second, Sirius. Who’s been making me blush all this time? Take it easy, breathe. Can you lay down?” you asked.

Sirius laid out on his back next to you, and you swung a leg over his waist, straddling him despite your aching core.

You toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “Can I?”

You could see that he was about to cry again.

“Sh, sh, easy,” you said, leaning down to kiss him sweetly, “you’re beautiful, Sirius, I just wanna see you.”

Sirius didn’t fight you as you unbuttoned his shirt, your lips attached to his neck so that he didn’t have the added nerves of knowing you were watching his chest and stomach become more and more exposed each second.

You pushed his shirt open, and slowly kissed down his collarbone, then his chest, and then his stomach, lifting just before where his cock was still hard and leaking onto his lower stomach.

You looked up at him, and realized his eyes never left you.

“Are you okay?” you checked in.

“Sorry,” Sirius said, wiping his eyes one final time before he was able to pull himself back to earth, “nothing ruins the mood like my insecurities.”

You kissed him again. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still in a mood. You stopped touching me at the worst fucking moment.”

Sirius snickered. “Next time, don’t be so fucking needy.” He was baiting you. You were happy to bite.

You ran your fingers across his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. “Can’t help it,” you said, touching him softly and nonchalantly, “I need you bad.”

“Yeah?” he asked as you lifted your hips, positioning yourself directly above his aching cock.

“I need you so, so bad, Siri,” you said, slowly sinking down onto his length.

His hands gripped your hips violently, his knuckles nearly going white from the strength of his hold. He had been imagining what you would feel like around him for what felt like an eternity. As you sank fully down, Sirius couldn’t help but hold you there, barring you from movement.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your forehead pressing against his.

“Baby, baby, baby,” Sirius chanted like a mantra.

“Please let me move, Siri, I need to feel you so bad,” you spoke quietly in his ear.

“Fucking hell,” he said, releasing his grasp on your hips and allowing you to bounce up and down.

You still hadn’t nailed your riding technique, so it took you a few tries to get your balance right. You knew you had it when Sirius grabbed for your arm, a low moan escaping his lips as he pulled you to him.

He kissed you harshly, taking a moment to relish in the feeling of you fucking him. As good as it felt, Sirius was not okay with you servicing him and doing all the work, when all he wanted was to wreck you.

Sirius held the back of your head to maintain the kiss as his other arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your torso to his as he began to snap his hips upward. You whined into the kiss at the sudden new angle.

“Heard you like being manhandled baby, is that right?” he spoke into your ear, your head falling into the crook of his neck, “you like it rough, huh?”

You moaned in response as Sirius snapped his hips even faster, holding your waist down so that you stayed in place for him.

“Liked you ‘cus you were so fuckin’ innocent,” he began, your entire body jolting with each thrust of his hips, “could tell from how easily I made you blush. Knew it’d be fun to wreck you. Never dreamed you’d like it so fucking much,” he slapped your ass hard, causing you to cry out into his shoulder.

“Been-“ you could barely speak, “thinking about this, you- so long.”

Sirius fucked into you faster. “Keep talkin’.”

“Siri, please, don’t make me.”

Sirius slapped your ass, not letting up on his pace at all. “Please, baby, keep fuckin’ talking.”

“Not fair,” you struggled out.

“What’s not fair,” he shot back, “is making me wait this long to feel you. Fuckin’ hell, angel, you feel so fucking good.”

Sirius slowed down, almost fully stilling before he flipped your two bodies over. He then grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips upward to meet his.

You went to hoist yourself up on your arms, but he grabbed your wrists, connecting them behind your back and holding them with one hand. “Down.”

“I’m not a dog,” you challenged, “unlike some people.”

Sirius smiled, a genuine smile. You were joking with him in the middle of intense sex. It just kept getting better and better.

“Oh, shut up,” he replied.

“Are you fluffy? Like what color are you? Do you know tricks?” you taunted.

Sirius growled, leaning over you and shoving a finger into your mouth. “I said shut up.”

You sucked on his finger obediently as he rolled his hips and entered you again.

“Good girl,” he said, breathy, “you’re taking me so well.”

You whimpered into the pillow as Sirius rutted your hips into the mattress, his thrusts not fast, but hard.

“I’m gonna-“

“Not yet.”

“But-“

“Don’t you fucking come yet, you understand?”

“I don’t know how to-“

Sirius gripped your jaw, holding you down as he leaned further and further onto you, “don’t fucking come until I say so. You’re mine, listening is the least you can fuckin’ do to show it. Unless you’re not mine.”

Hook, line, and sinker. “I’m yours, I’m yours, Siri, all yours, I need you, only you-“

“Fuck,” he cried out, the loudest he’d been yet.

You fought like hell not to come, but it was difficult when the boy you’d been fantasizing about forever was fucking you ruthlessly from behind and moaning your name.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

Your name sounded so sweet coming from his lips.

He smacked your ass again, watching the way the flesh moved when touched. He watched himself enter and almost exit you time and again, admiring how fell you fit together.

You felt his eyes travel up your back to your face again, where you lay wrecked, burying your face in the pillow to silence yourself.

“Uh uh uh,” Sirius tsked, pulling your hair so that your face was pressed sideways into the pillow, “let me hear you.”

“Siri-“

“Just like that, baby, sounds so pretty when you say it.”

“Please let me come, Siri,” you begged.

“Fuck, lay down,” he said, pulling out of you and tapping your hip to alert you to turn around.

You laid on your back and Sirius immediately re-entered you.

“Wanna look at your pretty face when you come for me,” he explained, leaning down to kiss you.

Despite the harsh snapping of his hips, Sirius kissed you gently, a reminder that he was still him, and you were still you, and this was still real and safe.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as your body fought, and was denied release a third time. “Siri, please, I’m gonna come, please-“

“Not until I say so, babydoll, you can do it,” he groaned, “need to come with you. Need it so bad.”

“Need you,” you said, “I need you to come in me, please.”

“You need me to come inside you? Hm? You need me?”

“I need all of you, please, Siri-“

Sirius moved a hand between your bodies, rubbing circles on your clit as he fucked you.

Your back arched as you whimpered, the sudden contact too much to hold back anymore.

“Wanna feel you, baby, come for me.”

That was all it took.

Your high crashed over you violently, your walls squeezing Sirius intensely as you, for lack of a more descriptive term, screamed.

The constriction of your walls sent Sirius over the edge. He could have come the second you touched him, but he wanted to wait for this moment, and it was sweeter than he could have imagined.

You pried your eyes open to watch Sirius as he came, but he was focused completely on you, his pleasure being achieved from seeing yours. He leaned down to kiss you as you both caught your breath.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as if he would leave without you holding on. After a few moments, he had to physically pry your arms apart.

“Gotta pull out sometime, babydoll.”

You stuck your lower lip out in a hyperbolic pout. “Why?”

“Merlin, you are everything,” he said, smiling and kissing you one more time before he pulled himself out of you. He gazed to where your bodies had just met, and watched as some of his come spilled out of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he said, so quiet it was nearly a whisper.

You pushed sweat-slicked hair away from your forehead, stretching out your sore legs and instinctively closing your legs.

“No, no, no,” Sirius said, pushing your legs apart again, “the show isn’t over.”

You giggled as you watched him, so consumed in the sight that he was trying to not even blink.

“It feels messy, let me clean up a bit,” you said.

“Sh, I’ll obviously clean you up,” he protested, “just let me make the moment last a little longer.”

When Sirius was satisfied, he looked at your sweaty, fucked-out frame, and decided normal aftercare wasn’t enough.

“We need a shower,” he laughed.

“I don’t-“ your cheeks flushed as you weighed what you were about to say, “I don’t think I can stand.”

Sirius grinned wide, leaning down to kiss you before scooping you up into his arms. “You don’t have to,” he said, carrying you toward the bathroom.

────── ☾ ──────

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extended taglist

[sangunary]

Sillouethe Of Your Soul.

BatFam x Neglected Reader.

SYPNOSIS: How could anyone missed something they've never had.

WARNING: NOT FOR SENSETIVE PEOPLE OR WHO HATE GORE. (Daddy issue incoming)

Some abuser never realised the extent of their actions nor do they try to understand the person they have hurt, they relish in being in power to chain an angel on Earth with them so they won't feel so envious of it's wings.

Some don't realise their own abused, the harsh word that left wounds deep inside their sweet angel's heart, their silhouette ligures around the house but their soul were never present... They do not understand that their own actions have consequences that hurt more than themselves.

You were abused in the silent ways, no one to cheer you own, no one to help you sleep, no one to love you.

You would watch a family so happy and perfect just that they were your family and you felt like watching as their perfection together formed an art while you watched. Just another audience watching a beautiful art.

"She was an angel"

Bruce began as he sit inside his office that left somewhere empty now... The guy who he was talking was from CPS conducting an interview after your death.

"I should have realised... she wasn't a bird like the rest, she was an angel who just needs some encouragement to fly"

Bruce was better at nursing helpless birds than an angel. He's been a father for more than he could remember but he never took onto consideration on how some kid's aren't all birds and he gave up so soon... After he realised he could nurture you like a bird.

"I would watch her silently, I couldn't realise what I was doing wrong... I didn't knew how to raise a bird like her and I realised something was wrong with her."

You would sit there at the side quietly as the rest of the family played around treating you like a ghost. Their playful banter and smile never reached yourside, you were treated like a guest at your own home.

"I kept trying tho, I pushed and pushed trying to force her to open her wings... Like the rest of the family, but it wouldn't budge"

Bruce would watch as he ordered you to do certain thing's that no one else had to, doing everybody else laundry, extra studies, outside tuition and even excluding you from certain family function.

He knew you weren't strong enough to be a vigilante, that's why the rest of your siblings have a hard time being near you... Your life were different. You were just too 'odd' to be include as a family to them.

"I never knew how much it hurt her..."

You could barely hold back your tears sometimes, everyone get the idle father but to you he was never a father he was just an instructor... Who clearly have favourite.

"I told Alfred to stop making food for her... To learn how to survive on her own, she was already weak I thought I was helping her survive"

You would stood there your eyes looking into the abyss, everyone had their plate on the table yet yours was missing. They did not asked or have a single concern as they happily ate their meal... As your flesh began to decay.

Every Christmas you were gone nowhere to be seen but everyone carried on their life like you were never there at the first place.

Your bones were crushed, your blood being drained slowly as their smile and laughter taunt you.

Why? Why would you ever missed something you never had?

You've spent your whole life without them. Why would you suddenly need them, they were heros... They were obliged to love everyone but you were being singled out.

"I don't know why she didn't scream when they dunk her head into the water"

The brutal scene of your death, some thugs decided to kidnapped you for money but when they realised your family nor the bats were coming they used you to fulfill twisted dreams.

Your wrist was red and some soft skin were pelling off. Tears, sweat and snot on your face as you begged God to save you.

Tim got kidnapped before and he was saved before an hour.. You've been down here for six hours, bruised and broken.

You thought for once that your family would show some mercy and come but they didn't, left you behind in the hands of two merciless people.

For six hour straight you've been beaten, they dunked your head into some cold water and before you could passed out and just let go they would pull your head back.

Your clothes were torn and dirty, your body was aching and there was a fine line of cut on your neck as blood wouldn't stop spewing out of it. Your fingers were mostly broken and you're been hit with a rench which left your jaw broken and your head bleeding.

"Dad...I, mis-ed u..."

You could barely speak but you used the bit of your strength on calling for your father, for him to embrace you in your dying moment... That's what you've wanted for a long time .

Memories flash across your mind as your breath began to slow down. You've watched alot of movies, you always wanted your father to pick you up into the sky and told you that he loved you.

The way a father would look at their daughter and be proud of. Everybody had a father by their side growing up atleast in your eyes, the one to hold their hands while they cheer, the one to embrace them when they accomplish even the smallest of thing.

But, he was never a present father to you. Ever award you won the only thing you care for was your father, you looked into the crowd of faces to see his proud face or just him but he wasn't there.

Unlike everyone else who had a father holding their hands to guide them through the darkness you only had yourself. Every compliment felt meaningless and every compliment was replaced with untold hatred.

"I couldn't stop myself that day... I hold onto her and cried. My baby was dead"

He continued as his face show a slight sorrow but he was holding it back.

"My child, my little angel... Lifeless on the dirty street left there to be eaten by the rats... I couldn't control my tears, so many word left untold... So many praise I've kept to myself, she died thinking she was a burden."

His voice cracked as his throat began to heat up from the emotion he was trying to surpass.

Your body was left at some nearby alleyway, you were still concious when they throw your body onto the cold cement. The light of the city blended in your eyes, you lay there paralyzed soaking wet from your blood.

It was cold and empty, trying to imagine the warmth of your father, but you couldn't...You didn't know how it felt to be under a father warmth. You never had that.

All those years filled with unsaid words and tension between the two of you. You couldn't speak and he didn't knew how to care for you. You watched as he would nurture all your siblings buy you.

Every birds by his side cuddling and loving while your feathers began to fall to warmth your heart, to play the role of being loved. You sacrifice your own greatness for fatherly love.

"Her body was cold and empty, not the girl I watched grew up... Her blood were warm, like she was trying to comfort me for the last time..."

Bruce looked at his hands as he looked back at the guy, he recoll running towards the scene, pushing the GCPD aside when they tried to stop him... But a father could never be stopped when their child is at stake.

He saw your body near the trash, they threw you away like you didn't meant anything but a trash to be taken out after it was done with.

He went on his knees as he dirty his perfect suit, his hands holding onto your body as he began to sob... Your face have went pale and he could see the damage done to your jaw and the large bruise on your left eye.

The bruise was swollen, purple and red colouring it... Seemed like they had hit you with something hard.

"Whoever killed her treated her no different from an animal. I hold onto her hands, I prayed to God to do something... I was... Late, too late to be a father to her."

"I ruined a beautiful angel... I wasn't a father... I treated her differently... I was too sucked up to understand that she needed a father and not Bruce..."

"I just, hoped that no father would do this to their child... She was my child, my angel, my baby... And I would die to bring her back and told her... I love you always"

I know this is shittu but im bored.

[wvyik]

stoner bf! dean headcanons ⋆˚

dean winchester x gn! reader

ꕤ summary: stoner! dean is all sleepy kisses, vinyl records, and joints rolled just for you. he’s soft when he’s high, clingy in the best way, and swears you’re his soulmate every time the stars come out.

♯ warnings: mdni!! explicit content, 420 we ball, kissing, cuddling, weed naps, clingy stoner bf, movie nights & vibes, lap sitting, food cravings, soft!dean, praise, sleepy makeouts, forehead kisses, domestic fluff, himbo behavior, space talk & soulmate shit, high and in love.

♯ notes: this has been living in my head rent free for weeks. also if he ever passed me a blunt i’d simply fall in love on sight. anyway enjoy my delulu. reblogs = forehead kiss from him <3

HE LOVES GETTING YOU HIGH.. Like he lives for it. He rolls for you, lights it, puts it to your lips, and watches you with those hazy green eyes like you’re his favorite movie.

HIS MUNCHIES ARE CHAOTIC.. This man will eat a grilled cheese with pie inside it and call it “gourmet.” He also thinks Cool Ranch Doritos and peanut butter are “a bomb combo.” You’re stuck enabling him.

HE GETS REAL CUDDLY.. Dean + weed = clingy lil baby. He’s got his arms wrapped around you, face buried in your neck, mumbling stuff like “You smell like heaven, y’know that?” in a deep, raspy voice that’s half-asleep.

HAS A RANDOM URGE TO TEACH YOU POOL.. Halfway through he’s not even holding the cue stick right anymore. “Okay, okay, now bend over. No not like that— wait, yes, exactly like that.” Then he forgets what the lesson was.

STONER MOVIE NIGHTS ARE SACRED.. You two binge Pineapple Express, Half Baked, and Dazed and Confused on rotation. He always quotes Matthew McConaughey’s “alright, alright, alright” and then says you make him feel that way. Ugh.

HE MAKES HIS OWN EDIBLES AND THEY’RE.. WEIRDY GOOD?.. Dean will make weed brownies but then he’s like “what if we did a THC bacon mac n cheese?” and you’re like “pls no” and next thing you know you’re drooling on his chest 20 minutes later after one bite.

DEAN GETS THE GIGGLES SO BAD.. Like, full-on belly laughing over nothing. You’ll say “pass the lighter” and he’s crying like “yo you sounded British for a sec.” He thinks you are the funniest person alive when he’s high.

NOT THAT MUCH FOR BIG TALK WHEN HE’S HIGH, BUT HE’LL ALWAYS FIND WAYS TO SHOW LOVE.. Like making you your favorite drink, lighting candles, or just sitting beside you in silence, holding your hand.

SURPRISINGLY GOOD AT READING YOUR MOODS WHILE HE’S HIGH.. If you’re quiet and anxious, he’s your silent rock, just holding you close. If you’re a little overwhelmed, he’ll softly remind you to breathe and maybe put on some chill tunes.

„WEED NAPS” TOGETHER ARE A FULL ON RITUAL.. He’ll get you both stupid high, pull you into his chest, kiss your forehead, and knock out mid-sentence. You wake up and he’s snoring softly with a dumb lil smile and his hand still on your thigh.

TRIES TO TEACH YOU HOW TO ROLL A JOINT, BUT ENDS UP GIGGLING LIKE A CHILD.. He’s all, “Okay, babe, lemme show you—this is high-level skill,” and then drops the weed all over the table and starts giggling like “shit… ignore that, I got it.”

TALKS TO HIS JOINTS LIKE THEY’RE FRIENDS.. “Alright little guy, let’s do this.” lights up “You’re burnin’ nice, buddy. Real proud of you.” You’re just staring like ??? and he’s chillin’ like it’s normal.

SMOKES OUT OF STUPID STUFF.. “You think I can turn this apple into a bowl?” He does it. Successfully. And grins like he just won the Super Bowl. “MacGyver ain’t got SHIT on me, baby.”

GETS EMOTIONAL OVER LITTLE THINGS.. Like seeing you laugh or watching you tuck your hair behind your ear, he’s totally smitten and might get a little teary-eyed, whispering “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

HIS STONED KISSES? SLOW. METLY. OBSESSIVE.. He leans in real lazy, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown, and just melts into your mouth like he’s never been fed before. You pull back for air and he chases your lips like, “Nuh-uh. More.”

GETS HIGH BEFORE DOING CHORES AND TURNS IT INTO A CONCERT.. Vacuuming in just a flannel (unbuttoned), doing the dishes while singing into a spatula, shaking his hips with a joint hangin’ from his lips. You’re just sitting there, blushing and dying.

GETS WAY INTO ASMR WHEN STONED.. Whispers into your ear like a pro, “Babe, you hear that? That’s the sound of love.” Then he makes weird mouth noises and you’re dying.

SAID „I COULD TOTALLY BE A STRIPPER” ONCE.. Put on ’Pony’ by Ginuwine, tried to do a sexy dance, tripped over a sock, and fell into the laundry basket. You almost passed out laughing. He’s still proud of himself. “Tell me I wasn’t kinda hot tho.”

STILL MANAGES TO BE THE MOST ATTRACTIVE HUMAN ALIVE.. Even with red eyes, messy hair, and a Dorito stuck to his hoodie, he’s somehow radiating sex appeal. Like he winks at you and you’re just like— ugh, fine, let’s make out.

TRIES TO INITIATE SOFT MAKEOUTS AND ENDS UP MAULING YOU.. Started with a forehead kiss. Then a peck. Then a soft little “Hey pretty…” and BOOM now you’re straddling him, shirtless, and he’s breathless whispering “God, I’m so high and you’re so hot.”

“CAN WE HAVE SEX IN THE BUNKER LIBRARY?”.. Deadass high and suddenly asking the most degenerate stuff. “I just think it’d be hot, like, you bent over the table, surrounded by old books. Kinda academic. Kinda slutty.”

LOVES PULLING YOUR UNDERWEAR TO THE SIDE, NOT OFF.. Something about the laziness of it drives him wild. He’s like, “I ain’t wasting time, sweetheart. I want it now.”

LIKES TO MAKE YOU RIDE HIM WHILE HIGH.. Sprawled out on the couch, joint still smoldering in the ashtray, hands on your hips like he’s watching a movie. “Mmm, just like that, baby. Show me how pretty you are.”

LAZY, SENSUAL STROKES.. He’s not pounding you into oblivion; he’s rolling his hips, slow and deep, mumbling “you feel too good… can’t stop…” It’s sloppy. Sweaty. Sooo vocal. Just full-blown “fuuuuck, baby—uhhh—yeah…”

GOES DOWN ON YOU LIKE IT’S A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.. High Dean is locked in. Hair pushed back, gripping your thighs like you’ll float away. Will not stop until you’re shaking. And when you’re done? “You taste like heaven. I need another hit.”

PUTS HIS FINGERS IN YOUR MOUTH WHILE HE’S FUCKING YOU.. He’s like, “Suck, baby. Just like that. God, I love those lips.” And then keeps thrusting harder every time your tongue swirls around.

HIGH DEAN GETS DISTRACTED BY HIS OWN DIRTY TALK.. Mid-sentence, he pauses, laughs, and goes, “Wait… did I just say that out loud? Fuck, I’m high as hell.”

LOVES IT WHEN YOU TAKE CONTROL, BUT ONLY A LIL BIT.. High Dean loves it when you tug his hair or bite his lip, he gets that glint in his eye like “Yeah, show me what you got, baby.” But then he always wins with a growl and a kiss that steals your breath.

AFTERWARDS, YOU CUDDLE AND HE’S STILL KINDA HORNY.. Hands back on your ass, mumbling half-asleep, “Round three in like… fifteen minutes. Just lemme nap inside you.”

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⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library.

[daryltwdixon]

Mmwhahaha REQUESTS YES. So jealous joel is my all-time crush, men being jealous is so damn hot. I'm picturing age gap, friends with Tommy, so she's come over for like a BBQ or something, and one of his friends is flirting and being touchy. Incomes jealous joel. I'll leave the creatives to you! Points for a short sundress and tipsy drunk sex later.

|| smut MDNI 18+, no outbreak, size difference (joel is big and hulking obvi, no reader description), pinv quickie, lots of heavy kissing, jealous!joel, maybe a little mean!joel, dirty talk, creampie ||

a/n: heyyyyy I may have gotten a little carried away hehehe tysm for the request!! (left joel pic is from @iamasaddie)

The air was hot and thick with the smell of Frank’s famous ribs on the barbeque that late Saturday afternoon, the sun still beating down despite the hour. Joel’s hand stung from the cold bite of the ice that floated in the cooler as he fished around for a beer, hoping it’d take the edge off the heat, and maybe the company, too.

He was only half listening to the conversation near the tables, the scrape of tongs on the grill, the low hum of voices rising every so often in laughter as the guys hovered around Frank like he was running a damn cooking show. Most of them were well past their drink limit already, and none of them seemed to be slowing down.

It was one of those casual get-togethers Tommy liked to throw now and then. They pulled in the whole damn crew from the job site, a few neighbors, and the usual handful of buddies Tommy had collected through the VA or just from being more sociable than his older brother had ever been.

Joel normally showed up late and dipped out early. But this time, he’d been here since setup. Grunted through the small talk, nodded through the backslaps and the bullshit, even ignored the flirty eyes and lingering hands from some of the wives who’d had one too many.

He was just cracking the tab on his beer when he heard Marcus ask, “Now where’s that cute little thing you always got hangin’ around you these days?”

Joel’s head snapped up before he could stop himself, eyes cutting to his brother like a reflex.

Tommy’s grin widened bashfully, cheeks coloring under the weight of Marcus’s arm slung around his shoulders.

The guys burst into laughter, light punches landing against Tommy’s chest and arms, jabbing at him like boys in a locker room. Joel didn’t laugh, instead, he felt his jaw tighten.

He didn’t really know you. The real estate girl Tommy had gotten friendly with, now that he was helping out more regularly with Miller Contracting. You’d become part of the routine, almost part of the company entirely if Tommy had his way. You were slowly turning into the face of the pitch, the one always talking to buyers with your bright voice and glossy folders and those heels that somehow never sank into the grass.

Truth be told, Joel thought you were actually pretty damn good at your job. You never over-promised. Never made excuses. You just smiled at the impatient homeowners and smoothed things over with that voice of yours, always steady, always sweet.

No worries, Mrs. Smith, the boys are workin’ hard, and your granite countertops should be done real soon. What’s that? You need it finished in two weeks? Don’t worry, I’ll ask ‘em to crank up the Constructo-Meter and work double-time.

Joel had to force himself not to smile the first time you pulled that one out.

Because you were a pain in his ass. Always wedging yourself into their business, always making friendly chatter with the guys—it drove him mad.

But still, that never seemed stop him from thinking about the way those little black skirts and low cut blouses hugged your curves, how your voice went syrupy when you talked on the phone, how your perfume lingered long after you’d left the site.

And it sure didn’t stop the way his blood started to run a little hotter now, just hearing other men talk about you like that.

And speaking of the devil in heels, there you were, the back door sliding open and your bright smile shining across the yard. But you weren’t in your usual business attire. Long gone was the little black pencil skirt, you had sandals instead of kitten heels, and instead of your clipboard tucked under your chest, you held a dish covered in a tea towel.

Instead, you wore a simple little sundress. Light fabric, floral print, the kind that clung just enough to your waist before fluttering out around your thighs. It moved with every step you took, catching the breeze as if made for days just like this.

Your legs were bare, glowing in the bright sunlight, long and smooth and dusted with the faint shimmer of the afternoon heat. You walked slow, easy, like you didn’t feel a dozen sets of eyes turn toward you all at once.

“There she is!” Marcus called, loud and eager, already moving to greet you like a dog off-leash. He bulldozed his way across the lawn, nearly knocking over someone’s lawn chair to get to you first. Joel watched as you smiled politely, extending your hand. You let Marcus take it, let him rest his palm on your shoulder like he’d known you more than a couple weeks. He led you into the yard like you were the goddamn guest of honor. 

But had Joel blinked just then, he would’ve missed the way your eyes flitted to him across the lawn, almost in a silent plea. What was it you were asking of him? To pull you away from Marcus’s grip? To save you from the onslaught of attention? Joel told himself he was overthinking it. You only glanced at him, anyway. It was only a second, quick and barely there, but he felt his ears go red. 

Then you were pulled right into the thick of it. The circle of men and smoke and beer breath and loud talk surrounded you and Joel’s eyes narrowed when you leaned up and kissed Tommy on the cheek in greeting.

What the hell?

Joel’s mind scrambled for any semblance of conversation he had with his brother about you recently. As far as he knew, you weren’t seeing each other, or else he knew Tommy would be bragging from the rooftops about it. So why were you kissing him on the cheek, and why in God’s name was his brother looking so damn pleased with himself?

The guys hooted, elbowing Tommy again, shouting some nonsense about keeping secrets and "oughta let the rest of us have a chance." You laughed. That easy, breezy kind of laugh Joel had only ever heard you use with clients. It was sweet and polished and meant to keep things light.

“You’re bad,” you said to Marcus as he playfully tugged at the edge of your dish towel-covered plate. “I brought peach cobbler. Hands off till it’s on the table.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he grinned, “Don’t tell me you just came here to tease us like that.”

Joel clenched his jaw so hard his molars ached.

They fawned over you for a little longer, offering you a drink, asking about your week, making you promise you’d be at the site tomorrow. You laughed and nodded and let them talk at you while you balanced the covered dish in your hands.

Finally, someone called for plates and food, and the group began to break apart. You used the chance to step away, heading toward the folding table to set the dish down, hands smoothing the towel flat once you uncovered the cobbler.

Joel dropped his gaze down to the cooler as you approached, hyper aware of every footfall he heard of yours, the slapping of your fancy looking sandals. He could feel your approach, his nerves fraying the closer you got.

“You gonna guard that cooler all night, Mr. Miller?”

His jaw flexed again.

He could see your painted toes in his periphery, the slender straps of your sandals peeking through the grass as you stood beside him now, arms crossed loosely as you probably were eyeing the cooler. Joel didn’t answer at first, but he reached back into the ice and grabbed another beer. He knew which kind you liked. He offered it to you all the while barely looking at you. 

“Thanks,” you said, taking it from him and flipping the tab. “Didn’t realize it came with a side of brooding.”

His eyes finally flicked to your face, but you were already turning and walking away. 

Pain in his ass.

The fire pit was burning high, crackling steady in the pit as the night settled in thick and warm. Most of the crowd had cleared out by now, just a small group lingering in mismatched chairs and folding camp seats around the orange glow. Tommy was strumming his guitar across the fire from Joel, and someone had pulled out the s’mores kit, and now half-melted chocolate wrappers and graham cracker crumbs littered the little side table.

You were perched on the edge of a faded Adirondack chair, legs tucked under you, a roasting stick gripped delicately between your fingers. A single marshmallow dangled above the flame, the bottom already blistering black while the top sagged from the heat.

Joel watched you, his umpteenth beer in hand, his skin flushed and brow glowering at you across the fire beside his brother. But you hadn’t paid much mind to him all day. 

The thought of that being the exact reason he was glowering flitted across his mind before he shook it away with another swig.

He told himself he was only watching you because you were reckless with the fire. That someone needed to keep an eye on you before you set yourself or the whole damn yard ablaze. But even as the thought passed through, it felt thin.

“Uh-oh,” someone murmured, pointing at your marshmallow.

You lifted it too slowly, distracted mid-conversation, and by the time you noticed, it was already half-melted, sagging off the stick. But you just laughed, grinning as you brought it straight to your lips anyway.

It hit your mouth in a gooey, half-scalding mess. A smear of white stuck to the corner of your lip, the rest slipping down your chin in a slow drip before you caught it with your finger.

“Shit,” you said, laughing again, swiping at the melted mess before licking your finger clean with a soft, exaggerated pop. “Too hot.”

One of the women next to you snorted, covering her mouth. Another chimed in, “Girl, you’re gonna burn your tongue off.”

But the men… they were all silent, frozen, staring in awe as you finished off the white sugary syrup that dripped down your finger.

Joel’s pulse kicked hard in his neck, the bottle slick in his hand. His eyes narrowed across the flames, locked on you like you were a match yourself. He didn’t know what pissed him off more—how you didn’t seem to notice the reaction around the firepit, or how maybe the fact that you very much knew exactly what you were doing.

You were glowing in the firelight, hair messy and cheeks flushed, lips still sticky with sugar and heat. And you weren’t even looking at him. You were laughing with the others like you hadn’t just made every man in the circle forget what they were saying mid-sentence.

He hated it.

Absolutely fucking hated it.

He stood up suddenly, the legs of his chair scraping loud against the concrete.

Your eyes flicked over to him, a little startled. 

Joel didn’t say much as he stalked off, only muttering something about needing to take a piss as he moved off toward the house, shoulders tight and eyes storm-dark.

Pain in his ass.

The house was quiet in the way that always made Joel feel like he could finally breathe. Music still played low from the guitar in Tommy’s lap, something twangy and slow, and the hum of conversation from outside was muffled by the closed door. He stood in the kitchen with his back to the room, hands braced against the counter, head bowed. His beer sat half-finished beside the sink, piss warm by now.

He hated this.

He hated the way his stomach twisted every time you laughed at someone else’s joke. He hated how the sound of his own brother’s name on your lips made his shoulders tense or how you floated through the yard like you didn’t even notice the way people watched you.

And worse, hated how badly he wanted you to look at him.

He didn’t want to be that kind of man. The kind that glared at his own brother like a dog guarding a bone. The kind that let a little sugar-slick smile get under his skin. But here he was. Stuck in it. Damn near drowning in it. A grown man stewing in the dark over a girl that wasn’t even his.

Joel kept reminding himself that he barely knew you. Just a few months of day in and day out visits to the sites, or meeting him and his brother on new projects. Joel and you mostly only talked business, maybe a few jokes here and there if he was in a good enough mood. Sometimes you brought him coffee when you knew it’d be a long day. You’d learned how he’d liked it. He was kicking himself for never being all that nice to you. But it surely wasn’t enough to justify this ugly thing crawling up his spine every time you touched Tommy’s arm or shared a smile with one of the other guys.

If anyone deserved you, it was probably Tommy. He was good with people, charming and light on his feet and always seemed to know what to say. If you were gonna fall for someone, Joel figured it would be him. Maybe you already had.

But none of that stopped the way Joel’s blood ran hot just at the thought of it.

No. Joel wanted you.

And he wanted you bad.

He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to settle the mess churning in his chest. He hated the way he got around you, how quick his temper flared, how easily his thoughts tangled. The jealousy slipped in quiet at first, but it had since settled deep, coiling tight in his gut until everything felt too hot. And beneath it, there was the want. Hot and blood boiling, it was impossible to ignore. It clung to him in moments like this, too loud for the quiet kind of life he told himself he wanted now.

And just as he was pulling himself together, the back door creaked open behind him.

He turned halfway, startled.

You stepped inside, lit from behind by the porch light, brows pinched and lip tucked between your teeth. You didn’t see him at first, just cradled your hand in front of you and headed for the cabinets.

“Can’t believe I actually burned myself,” you muttered, yanking one open and rummaging through it.

Joel blinked. “The hell you doin’?”

You jumped slightly, eyes snapping to him. “Jesus—I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Clearly,” he snapped, but then his gaze dropped to the way your fingers curled protectively around your hand. He let out a sigh, quieter this time. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

You hesitated, then nodded and moved toward the counter. Joel disappeared down the hall and came back a moment later with the first aid kit, clicking it open as you settled on the edge of the counter. Your bare feet dangled above the floor, knees drawn in slightly like you were trying to take up less space.

“I feel so stupid,” you muttered with a breathy little laugh, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah, well,” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t’ve been playin’ in fire.”

“I wasn’t playing,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I dropped my marshmallow.”

Joel didn’t respond. He let the quiet settle again as he took your hand in his. He hadn’t noticed before how small it was. How his palm all but swallowed yours. You were so warm, so close. Closer than he’d ever been, really.

After a moment, you tilted your head, frowning at him. “What’s been your deal today?”

He didn’t answer, just dabbed on the burn cream. You winced, and he almost felt bad.

“You’ve been acting… weird,” you said softly.

“Weird?” he echoed, even though he knew exactly what you meant. He had been acting like an asshole, there was no doubt about it. 

“You’ve been…distant. All broody and quiet.”

He finally looked up at you under his brows. “I don’t brood.”

Your lips curved, amused in spite of yourself. “Joel Miller, you are the definition of brooding. What’s going on with you?”

He paused, focusing on wrapping the bandage like it was the most important thing in the world. He didn’t know if he was going to answer. Didn’t know if he should.

“You don’t even realize it, do you?” he said finally.

You blinked. “Realize what?”

He glanced at you, frowning. “The way you act out there with them. Letting ‘em fawn all over you. Laughin’, lickin’ marshmallow off your damn fingers like you don’t know what that looks like.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

“Maybe you don’t realize it. Or maybe you do. Maybe that’s the whole thing. Part of your little game.”

“I don’t play games, Mr. Miller,” you said sharply, jerking your hand from his. You stood abruptly, the scrape of your feet on the tile loud in the silence. Joel was already kicking himself for being such an asshole.

“And if you’re so mad about them lookin’ at me, you sure as hell don’t seem to care enough to do anything about it.”

His blood ran hot under your glare. You tipped your chin up at him, eyes sparking now, fire in them even here, far away from the pit.

“And what the hell do you want me to do about it, huh?” he seethed.

And that’s when he saw your eyes flitting to his mouth.

The air between you burned, thick and charged, like static right before a storm. You didn’t back down. You stood there, chest rising fast, glaring up at him like you dared him to move. Joel towered over you, the low kitchen light behind him casting his shadow across your whole body.

You were breathing hard, and he swore he could see your pulse pounding in your neck, right at the base of your throat. He wanted to touch it. Press his fingers there just to feel it.

“What the hell is goin’ on with you and my brother?” he asked, the words coming sharp, cut straight from the mess in his chest. It had been stuck in his head all night—that kiss on the cheek, the way you trailed after Tommy, how you sat beside him through dinner, through the firepit, stuck to him like glue.

Your head jerked slightly like you couldn’t believe the question. “Seriously?”

“You’ve been followin’ him around like a little puppy all damn day. Kissed him on the cheek when you got here,” Joel said, like that explained everything.

“It was a greeting, Joel,” you shot back. “You do realize people are allowed to be nice to each other, right? There’s nothing going on with me and Tommy.”

He didn’t say anything.

“You’d know that if you actually talked to me instead of just staring all day like you’re allergic to conversation.”

Joel’s jaw tensed. His hands curled into fists at his sides. But you weren’t done.

“He’s my friend. That’s it. Tommy’s easy to be around. He laughs at my dumb jokes. He introduces me to people like he’s proud I’m there.”

Joel looked away, the weight of that last sentence heavy in his chest.

You watched him, breath tight in your chest. Then you shook your head and took a step back.

“Besides,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, “he’s not the Miller I’m interested in.”

He stood suddenly frozen in place. He stared at you like the words didn’t compute. Like maybe he hadn’t heard you right. Like his brain refused to accept it.

You turned, trying to slip past him, trying to put this whole thing behind you, but his arm came out fast. His hand landed flat on the counter beside you, cutting off your escape. The movement wasn’t violent, but it was firm.

You jumped back, breath catching as you looked back up at him.

“Say that again,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard. “You heard me.”

“I wanna hear you say it again.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and unrelenting.

And then, quieter, but no less certain, you said it again.

“I want you, Joel.” you said, and then breathing in deep as if gathering the courage, you added: “You’re just too dumb to see it.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face, and something in him broke loose.

He didn’t let himself think about it too long, didn’t give himself any time to talk himself out of it. He pushed forward, hands sliding to your ribcage, and lifting you effortlessly to the counter. You gasped at the cool tile under your legs, your dress hiking further up as he set you down. 

Then his mouth was on yours. And he wasn’t soft or gentle or even slow.

It was all heat and teeth and months of want compressed into a single kiss. His lips crashed against yours, greedy and rough, his stubble scraping your skin as his hands held you tight, thumbs digging into your waist like he was afraid you might take it back if he let go.

You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed it whole, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, hot and slick and searching. He kissed you like he was trying to devour you, like he could bury all the confusion and jealousy and ache in your mouth and come out clean on the other side.

Your hands clawed at his shirt, fisting the fabric and he could feel the way your knees hiked up around him, legs tightening to keep him close as your ankles crossed behind his back. His hips slotted between your legs, fitting there like he belonged, like this was where he’d been meant to be all damn day.

He groaned low in his throat when your teeth scraped his bottom lip. His hand slid up your back, fingers splayed wide, dragging you closer as his other hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face so he could kiss you harder. Deeper. Dirtier.

There was nothing careful about it.

You kissed him back like you’d been waiting for this too, like you were just as pissed off, just as tired of pretending there was nothing between you. Your lips were swollen, slick with spit and sugar, and when you broke away to breathe for half a second, Joel followed you right back in, mouths colliding again, sloppy and hot and wild.

Joel didn’t think he could get enough of you.

Every time you kissed him back, every breathy sound that slipped past your lips, it lit him up from the inside. His hands moved without thinking, one sliding down your thigh, fingers curling under the hem of that soft little dress.

You didn’t stop him, if anything–you leaned into it.

He dragged you closer, hands gripping the back of your thighs as he pulled you toward the edge of the counter. The slide of you against the cool counter top made you gasp but then he was there, pressing himself even harder between your legs, solid and heavy and wanting. 

His hands slid up, dragging the fabric with them until he had you bunched up around your hips, until he could feel the heat of you radiating right through the thin scrap of fabric between your legs. It made him groan, low and guttural, forehead pressed to yours.

"Christ," he muttered, his voice rough, nearly shaking. "You're fuckin' burnin' up."

Your hands were in his hair now, tugging gently at the strands as your hips rolled forward, slow and seeking. His grip tightened, and he pulled you flush against him, grinding the hard line of his cock up into your center. He could feel everything—the softness of your inner thighs, the damp heat of you through your panties, the way your body arched into him like you couldn’t stand being separate another second.

You whimpered against his mouth, fingers threading deeper into his hair. He kissed you again, this time slower but no less intense, tongues sliding together, teeth clashing a little when neither of you could stop chasing the other.

Joel broke away, just long enough to press his mouth to the curve of your jaw, then your neck, dragging his lips down to the spot just under your ear where your pulse jumped against his tongue.

“Want you, Joel,” you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more access to your throat which he gladly took, teeth and lips and tongue all dragging across your warm skin, “Want you right here.”

"I know, baby," he rasped, grinding up into you again, slow and deliberate this time, letting you feel every inch of him. "This what you wanted all night, huh? Wanted me to take you in my brother’s kitchen like this?”

Your breath hitched. Your nails scraped against his scalp.

"Yes," you whispered.

He could feel how soaked you were, how hot and needy. The ache in his gut tightened, like he was right on the edge of losing whatever restraint he had left. His hand slid up your side, curved around your ribcage, thumb brushing just beneath the swell of your breast.

You were trembling now. Chest rising in sharp little bursts. Your legs wrapped tighter around his hips, like you were trying to fuse the two of you together.

“Then let me in, pretty girl,” he groaned, his voice shredded with restraint.

Hands reached between your bodies, his fingers dragged up the length of your clothed heat, barely brushing where you needed him most. Then he hooked his fingers around your panties and tugged them down, rough and quick, letting them fall to the floor.

He didn’t waste time.

His hand went to his jeans, undoing them with one hand, hissing low through his teeth as he freed himself, hard and already slick at the tip. He lined up with no finesse, not bothering to say more. Just pressed forward and buried himself in you with one deep, desperate thrust.

You cried out, head falling back against the cabinet, legs tightening around him even more.

“Fuck,” he gritted, voice strained and guttural. “This what you needed, baby? All those fuckers flirtin’ with you and touchin’ you, but this is who you wanted, huh? This cock right here?”

You whimpered something that might’ve been his name.

He snapped his hips forward again, harder, driving into you like he needed to stake a claim.

“That’s right, take it. So—Jesus, so goddamn tight. And all them think they might’ve had a chance but now look at you—stuffed full of cock like you’re made for it.”

Your fingers clawed into his back as he rutted into you, the edge of the counter digging into your ass, his body flush against yours. His mouth found your neck again, biting at the skin there, hands gripping your hips so hard you’d have bruises in the morning.

“You feel that?” he growled, thrusting up harder, rougher. “That’s mine. This pussy’s mine now. You gonna walk back out there drippin’ with me?”

You moaned, hips rolling helplessly against him, eyes glazed and lips parted.

“God, I fuckin’ knew it,” he muttered against your throat. “Knew you’d be a perfect little slut for me. Knew you’d let me ruin you the second I got you alone.”

He was so deep inside you, every stroke sharp and punishing, dragging the sounds out of you, making you clamp down tighter around him like your body didn’t know what to do with all of him.

“Come on then,” he rasped. “You gonna come on my cock like a good girl, or you want me to talk you through it?”

Your hands shot up, fingers tangling in his hair, yanking him down into a kiss that was all teeth and need. You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed every bit of it, lips dragging across yours before he nipped at your bottom lip.

Joel groaned desperately into your mouth, the sound escaping from deep in his chest. He could feel the way you fluttered around him, could tell you were getting close. 

He pulled back just far enough to look at you, one hand still gripping your hip, the other sliding down between your bodies. His fingers found your clit in seconds, slick and swollen and begging for attention.

“Ohhh, there she is,” he breathed with a dark little grin, rubbing slow, lazy circles that made you twitch. “That’s what you needed, huh?”

“Joel,” you gasped, eyes rolling, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s it. Say my name again,” he muttered, thrusting up into you, rough and steady, fingers never stopping. “You gettin’ close, sweetheart?”

You nodded, panting, body arching into him.

“Tell me,” he said, voice wrecked but firm. “Tell me how good I make you feel.”

You choked out a laugh between moans, half-drunk on it. “You’re such an asshole.”

He grinned. “Really shouldn’t be sayin that while I’m rearranging your guts, baby girl.”

“You smug bastard,” you gasped, rocking down on him, chasing every stroke.

“Aw, I know,” he cooed with an evil, teasing lilt, and then he was kissing you again, deep and filthy, fingers moving faster now, hips snapping hard against you. “Now come on. Let go for me. Wanna feel ‘er squeeze the fuck outta my cock.”

Your head dropped back, eyes rolling up, thighs trembling around his hips.

“That’s it,” he growled. “There she is. Come for me, baby. Make a mess. I fuckin’ dare you.”

And just like that, you broke. Your body seized around him, jaw slackened with a cry as you came hard, clenching tight around him.

“Jesus fuck,” he groaned, hips stuttering. “You’re perfect. Fuckin’ perfect.” he kept saying over and over again as he was spilling into you with a deep, broken moan, hips pressed flush to yours as he pulsed inside, thick and hot and perfect.

He stayed like that for a moment, both of you tangled together, panting against each other’s mouths. The only sound was your breathing, the faint music still playing from outside, the thud of Joel’s heart trying to calm down.

Slowly, he pulled back. His cock slipped from you, still thick and wet with both of you. You squirmed slightly at the loss, but Joel didn’t let you go far.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured, leaning down to reach between your thighs once he tucked himself away.

You gasped when his fingers slid back inside you, two thick digits pushing his cum back in with slow, easy strokes.

“Just cleanin’ you up,” he said, voice too soft to match the filth of what he was doing. “Can’t have it all drip out too fast. Not yet.”

You huffed a disbelieving laugh, but you still pulled one leg up to sit your bare foot on the counter, giving him more access.

“Want you walkin’ out there feelin’ it,” he whispered. “Want you sittin’ there all sweet while Tommy plays his little guitar and you’re sittin’ full of me. Warm and messy. Gonna keep my come inside you all night, pretty girl.”

You moaned under your breath, shivering again as he eased his fingers out.

Joel reached down and grabbed your panties from the floor. He slid them back up your legs, slow and careful, tugging them snug over your soaked center with a quiet, satisfied hum.

Then he leaned in again, kissed you on the lips, slower this time, no fire, just something warm and heavy and full of something more than the lust that was slowly dissipating from his blood.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

And when you smiled up at him, all wicked with flushed cheeks and kiss-bitten lips, he knew this wasn’t going to be the last time.

I saw this the other day and am in love lolol hope you enjoyed!!!

[littlelamy]

the basement smelled like boys, no not dirty boys—not gross, like that—but a mix cologne and weed, a smell that followed rafe everywhere. you were perched right on rafe's lap, plush thighs bare, skirt riding up high, showing your lace thong while his big hand wrapped around your waist like a seatbelt. barry’s voice floated somewhere in the background, talking shit about something, and the other guys laughed, passing the blunt in a lazy circle.

you blinked up at rafe with big, glossy eyes and gave a little pout. “can i try it?” you whined out.

rafe didn’t even look down at you. he just smirked and shook his head slowly, eyes locked on the joint as it made its way around. “no, baby. this is for grown-ups.”

you gasped. “i am a grown-up!”

“no,” he said, finally looking at you, his mouth curling like he was trying not to laugh. “you’re my pink little slut. grown-ups”—he pointed at himself, then barry, then the guy across the couch who had an eyebrow ring and no shirt—“that’s grown-ups.”

you crossed your arms, your tits pressing up and out over the top of your babyphat baby tee, and gave him your most cutest look. “please? i just wanna try. one little puff. pretty please, rafe…”

he stared at you for a long second. then sighed, muttered, “fuck,” under his breath, and reached out to grab the joint as it came back around. he brought it to your lips with two fingers, the other hand sliding up your thigh for comfort.

“small hit,” he said. “don’t embarrass yourself.”

you grinned like you’d won the lottery. leaned forward, lips parted, and took a little drag.

you coughed immediately. your whole body jerked forward on his lap and your eyes went glassy with tears. barry cackled while someone else slapped their knee.

“aw, shit man!” someone said. “she ain’t built for it.”

you hacked and gasped, hands fluttering, clutching at rafe’s chest like he could rescue you from your own lungs. he rubbed your back, smirking down at you with a mix of amusement and affection that made your belly twist.

“you okay, princess?” he asked.

“i hate you,” you croaked, voice all raspy, eyes watering. but your giggle gave you away, even as you blinked through the tears.

he leaned in, kissed the corner of your eye, whispered, “drama queen.”

you settled back into his lap, still coughing once or twice, but the warmth was already spreading through your limbs. everything felt a little funny. not ha-ha funny, but loose and tingling. your skin buzzed where his hands touched you, like baby fireflies were crawling along your thighs, your hips, your waist.

you squirmed, his brow twitched soon after. “don’t start.”

“what?” you asked innocently, your voice light in contrast to your ass grinding down just a little as you adjusted.

he groaned more warning than an actual sound. “chi…”

“just moving.” you giggled again, but your hips didn’t stop.

the weed made everything feel…hot and needy. “baby,” you whispered, wiggling your hips, your breath ghosting against his ear. “you feel soooo good right now.”

his hand tightened on your waist. “baby.”

“you’re hard,” you whispered, like it was just between you and him and not the entire room full of stoned assholes who could definitely see you rolling your hips on his lap. “you’re big even when you’re not hard, but right now? fuck…”

his eyes snapped to yours, dark and molten. “you need stop.”

“or what?” you licked your lips, smiling, nose still flushed from the coughing fit. “you’ll spank me?”

he said nothing. just stared at you like he was debating whether to take you over his knee right there on barry’s shitty futon. the look alone made you clench, made your thighs squeeze around his.

you leaned in closer, tits brushing his chest. “maybe i want you to.”

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[lucygraysboy]

pat continues to smile and nods his head, but on the inside he keeps thinking how unfair it is that billy bonney gets to date this girl who’s way out of his league. if he had a girlfriend like lucy gray, he would take her on a different camping trip. something romantic. nothing like this. billy is an idiot. “it would do him good, you know? to hear a flat out no from time to time. now that he’s an actor, i bet he thinks more highly of himself. gotta keep his ego in check, yeah?” it’s all said in a playful tone, laced with good-natured humor, but pat genuinely believes men like billy never hear no from no one. it’s frustrating, almost as frustrating as talking to her while she’s clearly focused on her cowboy. “oh, i have to tie my shoe up, sorry,” he sighs, quickly crouching down, untying his laces and tying them up again, trying to put more distance between them and the group. billy must be out of sight for lucy gray to notice that pat is the better man. “thanks, call me patricia. we can do each other’s nails and hair, and talk about whatever girlfriends talk about,” he laughs, straightening up after another moment, dusting his knees and resuming walking. “sounds good to me. there must be cleaning supplies there somewhere. what do you say we do it when we come back?” cleaning the disgusting camper might not be a dream come true, but spending more time with just lucy gray is. hearing her inquire about the badge, pat puffs out his chest and tilts his chin a little higher up. glad she’s noticed. finally. “yes,” he confirms, “a deputy.” which isn’t half as impressive as it sounds. it’s the entry-level rank in a sheriff’s department. “i respond to emergencies, conduct investigations, patrol the area. put the bad guys where they belong.” though, he mainly eats donuts and drinks coffee at the local gas station, takes bribes from the likes of bob olinger and turns a blind eye to whatever illegal activity they get themselves into. “i really shouldn’t but… here, you can wear it for the day,” he offers with a smile, taking it off his neck and putting it around lucy gray’s. “deputy baird.” he salutes her.

“well, of course. i didn’t want to just give him a flat out no.” and the part where she’s making sure he doesn’t get into any trouble rings true too… but that’s the part she won’t say out loud, of course not. that’s secret information. just like now, eyeing what he’s doing up there, passing around and drinking. barely noticing how far behind they’ve gotten from them. what’s even in that? anything that could poison sweet but irritating, and GULLIBLE billy? he certainly wouldn’t see it coming if it was. and note to self… she won’t be kissing him for awhile after he’s shared lips with all those rotten men just now, sickenin’. looking back to pat, she doesn’t expect it, but the singer softly laughs at the wig visual and the girl pretendin’ scenario pops in her mind. “well that’s nice of you to do for lil ole me. makin’ a great girlfriend already.” she plays back, amusingly laughing. “me neither, maybe we could clean it up ourselves since we have to stay there a few days.” if they even last… it’s still a good idea. “so what’s that badge— you a police man now?”

[teaboot]

mr boot, can we see more things you did not get suspended for?

(i promise this is only partially because i want to see more of doodleboot with his mouth open)

I may have to draw these later BUT I can write a list now!

1. In grade 3 we had a program where older students would supervise younger students while teachers ate lunch. Younger students could talk and walk around the classroom as long as they weren’t disruptive. One day we had an older student yelling at all of us to “Sit down and Shut Up”, and that made me so mad I told him, “You’re standing and yelling at us to sit and be quiet, you’re not following your own rules”. This turned into an argument where he threatened to send me to the principal’s office, and I said that if he did I’d tell them why. I did end up getting reported for “not listening to the student monitor” and a phone home was made but from what I recall I was never given a lecture and didn’t get in trouble. That kid was also never supervisor again.

2. On my first day of elementary school an older kid took a dime I found and threw it to the back of the school bus. He turned out to be a bully every time I rode the bus after that and eventually started spitting at me from across the aisle. The bus driver never did anything about it so one day I spat at him back, and we both got temporarily suspended from the bus- me for about a day, him for a week, except I guess someone knew it was an ongoing issue that he was causing so he also got suspended from school for a week. I didn’t, though.

3. Again in elementary school I got into a disagreement with a kid- I don’t remember what about- and he punched me in the stomach. I kicked him back and we both got sent to the school’s guidance counsellor, who I remember nothing about except he had grey hair and glasses and his office smelled like tuna salad. Other kid said he hadn’t done anything and I’d just kicked him for no reason. I told the whole story and said I knew kicking him was wrong but I’d been angry that he’d punched me over a disagreement. There was a call home but I was not suspended.

4. A kid in chess club told me that he was going to win our round, not because he was more experienced and I was only learning, but because boy’s brains are naturally better at strategy than girls are. This was my first introduction to sexism and I thought it was so stupid that I threw all my pawns full-force at his head. These were some hefty solid plastic pieces, too. I was then kicked out of the library, I think. I later discussed this with another guy friend and we agreed that boys WERE stronger than girls, but that was only because girls were smarter than boys and it had to balance out somehow. (We were about six at the time, for context.)

5. About half way through my first day of grade 8 social studies I realized the assignments, reading, and syllabus were completely identical to those from grade 7 social studies. When I pointed this out to the teacher, he said we could discuss it after class. He would not answer when I asked why it was exactly the same, and when I asked if half of us present were expected to do all the same work from the grade before a second time he said “Yes, you can do it differently if you want but you still have to do it” and said to take it as an opportunity to be more artistic if we wanted. I said this was ridiculous and asked if we would be learning ANYTHING new or just repeating the grade. He then went on a long rant about how he was in the middle of a divorce and lost his second job and “didn’t appreciate me undermining his authority in front of the other students”. My mom then got a phone call about my disruptive behaviour. When I told her my side of the story, she called back and asked to talk to the teacher to see what was going on and discuss my concerns about the syllables, to which the person receiving the call told her, “Mr. So-and-so has a degree in psychology and has teenage daughters, he knows how to handle difficult personalities”. Mom and I then agreed that Mr. Guy was a fragile, condescending idiot with poor compartmentalization skills and that I should just take the class as-is for an easy A. Which I did.

6. Choir was an optional extracurricular except for my class which for some reason were required to participate for reasons I am still unclear on. I hated choir and our songs were all stupid froofy saccharine bullshit about joy and rainbows and friendship and crap. I decided I was going to attend and would stand and do whatever I was told and mouth along if I had to but I wasn’t going to sing. The choir director was an asshole I had other classes with and already knew I didn’t want to be around, but in her defense she had a choir to direct and I wasn’t contributing. She’d frequently tell me to “sing louder” so she could hear me and then nod in satisfaction when I stood slightly straighter and opened my mouth wider while humming a little. I was eventually told if I wasn’t going to put the effort in then I would be asked to leave, to which I pointed out that I would GLADLY get out of her hair but half the students present were from my class and had been specifically ordered to participate, and had been told it was mandatory. This was then proven with a show of hands. I don’t know why this happened or why she didn’t know but she didn’t really get after me after that.

7. In grade four our gym class had a unit on “hip-hop dance” which consisted of a boom box playing what sounded like kidz bop covers of 80’s-90’s rap while a 40 year old white woman in a high ponytail and electric purple tights bounced around and showed us how to “pop and lock” and “do the electric slide” and “moonwalk”. I was immediately struck by an overwhelming sense of indignity that I could only articulate at the time as, “this is undignified”. I was a total goody two-shoes at the time and WANTED to be good and participate but was so weirdly disgusted and mortified at what was happening around me that after a few half-hearted movements I totally locked up in a straight-backed stand with a clenched jaw. All I felt I could do was wait for it to be over. Today I think I would describe the exact feeling as “paralytic cringe”. It was incredible. From what I recall I would not move or say anything to anyone and when being told to dance along I would just firmly say “no”. I remember having to be physically picked up and carried to the principal’s office where they called my mom but I have no idea what the aftermath was, only that being suspended was a big deal and that didn’t happen.

8. I really REALLY liked my grade 4 teacher and would regularly give her a little plasticine snail to sit on her desk. Only one, remade of the same clay over and over. The next morning every other day or so I would find that someone had smashed it flat. One day I unfolded a paper clip so that there was a spike pointed up and hid it inside the email. I wish I could tell you what happened but I don’t know. The snail disappeared and I couldn’t re-make it anymore.

There are so many more now that I’m thinking about it but damn I got in trouble more than I thought I did huh

[gracieheartspedro]

how i imagine brother's best friend!eddie

warnings: this is 18+, mdni, reader and eddie are 18+, eddie's a perv, flirting, insane antics, kissing, butt squeezin', dirty talk, fondling. no smut. yet (; let me know if you guys want more! tehe

When your brother joined Hellfire Club, you vividly remember telling him he was the biggest weirdo in town, right next to Eddie Munson, the leader of the club. 

You had graduated a year before and you were familiar with Eddie and his antics. He was supposed to graduate with you but too many absences and tardies did not allow it. Plus he was just horrible at school.

Now your younger brother hangs out with him every time he had free time. Which included having him bring Eddie over to your house.

You would see him in passing, when you were heading to your late shift at the local diner, giving him a half smirk and a simple “hello”. 

Eddie was good at checking you out and making it obvious, which to you, was weird to do in front of your brother. 

Lucky for you, your brother was oblivious and idolized the super senior, not noticing his passes at you.

One night, you get home late from work and him and Eddie have the rest of Hellfire in your den. They are all loud and carrying on, so when you walk down there, demanding to know where your parents are, your brother tells you that they had to go to Indianapolis to check on your grandma at her old folk’s home and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow evening. 

Eddie’s eyes would twinkle up at you, dazed from the handle of vodka they are all sharing. “Yeah, don’t worry sweetheart, we will make sure the house is nice and secure just in time for your bed time.” You would walk over to him, snatching the handle of vodka out of his hand. “Are you getting my 17 year old brother drunk, you asshole?” “He’s a big boy, he can handle himself. No need to play Mommy tonight, sweetheart.” “I’d bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Munson?”

His face drops as all his friends hoot and holler at him, smacking his back and clowning him. He doesn’t peel his eyes away from you, smirking like a proud father. 

With that, you would hand another one of the boys the handle and walk upstairs, freeing yourself of the responsibility. You go up to your room, stripping off your work clothes, wanting to get the smell of grease off your body and hair. 

You walk to your bathroom, wash yourself clean, and then wrap yourself in a towel. You slowly creep out of the room, not looking both ways in the hallway, totally forgetting your brother’s friends could be around any corner. 

And guess who is?

“Got all clean for me, sweetheart?”

Your skin literally crawls hearing his voice, deep and husky right beside you. You grip onto the hem of the towel, making sure it doesn’t come open. 

“No, I smelled like french fries and a side of sweat. Needed to shower before I got in bed.” You side step him, heading straight for your bedroom at the end of the hallway.  “Your brother told me I could stay tonight. Is that okay with you?” “I don’t care, just don’t keep me awake.” You reach for your door handle, trying to get away from the guy. “Damn, and here I had some ideas on how I could.”

You roll your eyes, not responding. You go to your room, the word gross rattling around your head.

After settling in your pajamas, you unfortunately realize need to refill your water bottle downstairs, so you have to face Eddie and your brother’s other friends. Again.

You ran hot at night, so you were only wearing a loose black tank top and flannel pajama shorts from a matching set you got in middle school. 

When you get to the kitchen, no one is there. You still here commotion coming from the den, assuming all of the guys were settling in for the night. 

You are filling up your bottle when you hear footsteps creeping up behind you. And there he fuckin’ is again.

“We gotta stop running into each other like this, baby doll.” “You’re disgusting.” “And your shorts are dangerously short.”

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. He matches you stance, almost mocking you for being annoyed. 

Maybe it was the alcohol emanating off him, but you feel buzzed being in his presence. He lights a weird fire within you.  Maybe it’s because you need to sleep.

He scans you again, his glassy eyes and flushed cheeks making you think about how you could easily shove him and make him lose his balance. 

But instead, you step towards him, your head tilted in defiance. He’s not expecting you to step up on him like that. 

You groan, rolling your eyes. “What are you even doing up here?” “I hear you, I come up. Simple.” He smiles, his eyes stuck on your legs. “Why?” He finally looks up at you, a shit eating grin plastered across his face,“I told you I had some ideas. Hoping I could run them by you.” “Why would I ever entertain that?” You scoff, even though you were kind of curious. “Because you haven’t told me to fuck off yet.” You dramatically roll your eyes, “Calling you disgusting was kinda doin’ that, Eddie.” “Say the words, then.” “What?” “Tell me to fuck off.”

It’s a stand off. You’re mind is telling you to scream it in his face and dump your entirely full water bottle over his head. 

But your body, mainly your weirdly soaked panties, are telling you to hold your ground. See where this could go. Eddie was hot. And yeah, you’ve heard he has a big dick. And you have also heard he knows how to use it. 

“Nothing? You wanna hear my ideas, then?”

You look at the door that opens to the den. 

“Go show face for a bit downstairs and then come knock on my door when everyone is asleep.”

Eddie couldn’t smile wider. He just nods, letting you brush past him and go up the stairs to your bedroom. You wait for about 20 minutes, your eyes getting heavy with sleep. The knock comes abruptly, rattling your body back to life. 

You slowly creep over to the door, opening it slowly, but Eddie’s pushing into your room like a cop raiding a drug den. Something he must be familiar with. 

He’s immediately on you, his large hand grabbing at your waist as he presses his lips into yours. You’ve never been kissed so hurriedly. His lips are plump and perfectly slot in with yours. His hands are grabbing at you so intensely, you realize how lost you were in the moment when his fingers pinch your ass. 

You push him away, dramatically throwing him back off you. 

“Are you fuckin’ insane?!” “You seemed to like it.” “Is this one of your ideas?”

He sneers, shaking his head as he wiped his lips with the back of his heavily ringed fingers.

“You and that mouth.”

You roll your eyes, unsure of how to respond to that.  But he’s looking at you like you’re his next meal, his eyes dilated, his hands ticking at his sides. You scan him as he takes a large step towards you, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. His head tilts, his curls scattering across his forehead.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” “Stop with the nicknames.”

He steps even closer towards you, menacingly. His demeanor is so different when you two are alone. You are his prey, and he wants to pounce.

“I’m gonna call you whatever I want. Especially when my cock is in that mouth of yours. Keepin' those pretty lips wrapped around me instead yappin' all of those smartass remarks.”

His words send the craziest shockwaves to your pussy. You can actively feel your panties get wetter. He can see that his words have an effect on you because your nose wiggles.

You size him up for a moment, pressing your hand to his sides before slowly working towards the front of his body, across his denim jacket and tight black jeans. When your hand stops where his jeans are straining, you smirk. 

“You want my lips here?”

His dominant aura gives way the moment you undo his jean’s button. He is practically whimpering as he looks down at your actions. 

“That’s where they belong,” His voice is still raspy and steady with control. “Who says so?” His smile is so twisted. “Your brother’s best friend.”

It instantly makes you feel guilty. Your brother is literally downstairs, probably hammered and dozing off to some stupid cartoons all the other nerds watch. This was so wrong. 

But for fuck’s sake, Eddie’s clothed cock is in your palm and it’s practically busting out of his zipper. The way he looks down at you, with his lips slightly ajar as his smile fades at the realization that his words throw you off your game. 

“We don’t have to, sweetheart-” “Shut up.”

hiii if you made it here, tell me ur thots. comments, likes, and reblogs are alllwaayyysss welcome. so are asks. feel free to be a menace there.

dividers are @cafekitsune <3333

tagging ppl who wanted this and fwends (hehe love u guys): @amanitacowboy @mediocredreams @layaispunk @pedgito @chaotic-mystery @hockeyhughes

[clockwayswrites]

Dead on MAYn '25 Day 1: Jason meets Danny as a ghost.

cw: temporary character death, discussions of death

Danny didn’t know why any of them thought it would work. The first time had been a one in a million chance. He had lived. The one. This time, it was another of the other nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine possibilities.

He had died.

At least he had a grave this time.

Sure, it was a little surreal to be standing on the edge of it and watching the casket containing his dead body be lowered down, the sounds of sobbing friends and family around him, but he had a grave.

It was…. nice.

The fact that he didn’t really feel strongly about being dead bothered Danny a little, but that’s just the way it was. Maybe it was a ghost thing? Being half dead hadn’t bothered him too much either. It’s just… the way things were. Sure it sucked, and there were things he missed about being alive, but what could he do about it?

He had died.

The end.

Here lies Danny Fenton.

Beloved son, brother, and friend.

“No—no! Don’t put him in the ground, he’s not… he’s not dead! He’s just, he’s just… you’ll see. He’ll be back and—”

“Sam! Shut the fuck up!” Tucker snapped. He sounded angry in a way that Danny had never heard him before. “He’s dead! Jesus fucking Christ, he’s dead… and you killed him. He listened to you and now he’s dead! Why did we ever…”

Jazz wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Always the savior. “Hey, Tucker, it’s okay, come stand by us.”

But who saved her? She looked so pale all in black, like she was dead herself. Her red hair flames. Her eyes cold and empty.

“He’s not! He’s not…” Sam’s sobs turned muffled, drifted away.

Her parents were probably taking her away from the funeral, or at least towards the back of the surprisingly large crowd. Sam’s parents never did like him; he guessed that didn’t change even in death. Or maybe they just didn’t want Sam to make a scene.

Or maybe they were trying to keep her safe.

She had killed him, after all.

A little part of Danny wanted to go after her, to apologize for something that he hadn’t even done. He hadn’t tried to die. It just happened: nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine in a million. Why had that risk ever been worth it?

Was it love?

He had loved her once, he knew, in that reckless, fleeting way that only teenagers could love. Had she loved him back? Had she been unable to live without him? Had the risk been worth it?

Tucker was pressed against Jazz, their heads bowed together. Mom stood next to them, looking so small. Dad loomed, a hunched gargoyle of grief.

No.

No, the risk was never worth it.

What had she been thinking?

What had he?

“Amity Park gathers today to morn one of their own, taken too soon away from us,” Mr. Lancer started from where he stood behind the gravestone and next to the oversize photo of the Danny who once was.

Alive.

Danny slid into his gave, settled into the soft, damp earth, and closed his eyes.

-

For a time, Danny stayed in Amity Park—added another ghost to the slogan of ‘most haunted town in America’. It was hard. It was like without him, things fell apart. He’d never thought of himself as important before, but it was like he was some sort of linchpin.

At first, Danny was with his family a lot. It was home, after all. It was home with his stuff in his room that his parents wouldn’t go into and that Jazz spent too long in. Danny sat by her a lot as she held his NASA teddy bear tightly and told it about her day.

He stayed away when Jazz was with their parents. They only argued. About him. About his death. About their parents obsession to try and bring him back or talk to his ghost. Always about ghosts.

When his family argued, he visited Tucker. Tucker was different too. That laughing, vibrant guy that was Danny’s best friend was gone. This Tucker was angry and withdrawn. But Danny had to suppose that was fair. Tucker didn’t remember everything else—the before. No one but Sam did. Well, and the ghosts. All Tucker knew is that Sam had convinced Danny to walk right into his death for no reason.

It also didn’t help that a few weeks after his death, Tucker’s family started packing to move. His parents got jobs in another city. Another city in another state. It was better to be away from Amity Park and all the craziness, they had explained to Tucker. Tucker had then explained it to Danny’s grave while Danny sat silently and invisibly on the gravestone. Tucker was leaving—going to where Danny couldn’t follow.

Sam was gone too. Sent some where so that she could ‘get better’.

Or be less embarrassing to her family.

Danny didn’t think too much about it. In part, because he couldn't. The longer that he was dead, the more it was like his ties to life were slipping through his grasp. He felt sad about Sam—sad and angry and confused—but it was like a stray thought that sometimes came to his attention. Mostly he felt… apathetic.

Once Tucker moved way, Danny stopped thinking about his friend too. Even Jazz and his parents stopped holding his attention as their fighting petered out. Jazz had threatened to never speak to them again if they perused trying to contact Danny’s spirit. The risk of loosing both their children proved too much their parents. Last Danny had listened to Mom and Dad talking, they were even discussing going into green energy research. That would be good.

It also meant that Danny had to leave while the portal was still hooked up. It was troublingly easy to kiss Jazz’s forehead one last time. To brush his mother’s cheek. To rest a hand on his father’s shoulder. To say goodbye.

To leave.

The swirling green of the zone felt like coming home.

-

“Phantom, must you?” Clockwork asked wearily.

“Yes, I must,” Phantom answered with as prim an accent as he could manage. He was draped over a gear, letting it slowly tick down to his inevitable fall. “Because, my timeless friend, there is nothing to do around here.”

“Pandora—”

“Is in the middle of preparing for the tournament.”

Clockwork frowned. “Ghost Writer—”

“Is reorganizing his classification system. Dorathea is busy with ruling, Frostbite is too. Undergrowth I need to let cool off… there’s nothing to do,” Phantom said.

“Have you tried talking to the new ghost your age?”

“Of course I’ve—wait what? Who?!” Phantom dropped off the gear wheel and sped over to Clockwork, spiraling around the Ancient. “A ghost my age? A new ghost? Where are they? Do you think they’d want to talk?”

“I think that the only way to find out is to go talk to him,” Clockwork said dryly. “I believe that he has been lingering around the lighthouse.”

“Lighthouse! Got it, thanks CW, bye CW!” Phantom yelled as he sped off.

The lighthouse wasn’t one of Phantom’s usual haunts, but he could get he appeal of it. Somewhere isolated, up high, and built to be safe. Phantom gave the lighthouse a wide spiral, not wanting to scare the new ghost away.

“Hello? Clockwork said you were new!” Phantom called out. He ducked to avoid the beam of the light. “Anyone home?”

“Not my home,” someone said for somewhere.

“Oh, I mean, yeah, duh, just a saying. But don’t worry! You’ll start building your haunt soon. I can even help you with that. I scoped out all the spots when I started my own recently.”

Part of the dark shadows of the lighthouse seemed to practically peel away until the other ghost was standing there. He was short—shorter than Phantom even, and seemed to vanish even when Phantom was looking right at him.

“You died recently too?” he asked.

“Yep! I guess a few months ago? Time is weird here,” Phantom said with as shrug and drifted closer. “Anyways, I’m Phantom.”

“…Robin,” the other ghost said hesitantly. “I’m Robin.”

---

AN: I have a lot of feelings about the wish episode and Danny being turned into a halfa again. (No Sam ranting though, please, everyone is dumb when they're a high schooler.) I would love to add another two parts to this--but with getting sick I've not been able to. But maybe in time? Also, CW plotting? Noooooo, never. And go visit @deadonmayn to check out all the other entries!

[rin-may-1103]

Got inspired, hope you don't mind.

(Also, to make things a little easier, I'm making the age gap between Tim and Damian three years. So they'll be 17 & 14.)

Cabin 18 and the Missing Kids.

Danny wasn't sure exactly what was happening, but one moment, he had been sleeping, and the next, he was being dragged out of bed, shoved into the GAV, and dropped off at some random camp with bags he hadn't noticed missing the night before.

"It'll just be two weeks, sweety!" Mom cheered, not even looking at him as she studied the device in her hands. It blinked, but not insistently enough to mean anything concerning.

"That's right, Dann-o!" Dad laughed, clapping Danny on his back, almost sending him crashing down. Grumbling, Danny tightened his grip on his bags and stared at his parents.

"Vladie's paying for all expenses, so enjoy it while you're here. said it was one of the best camps in the world!" Dad continued, ignoring Danny's obviously decreasing mood.

Granted, he had already been rather upset after getting woken up at 3 in the morning, so his parents probably just chalked it up to him being tired. (So tired; he had only just gotten to sleep, not even twenty minutes before they woke him up. Damn ghosts and not respecting sleep schedules.)

Mom patted his back with a small smile as Dad jogged back to the GAV, "I know you don't like Vlad and his schemes, and I completely agree with you, but he's trying, sweety. At least give this a chance before locking yourself in your cabin. Who knows, maybe you'll actually enjoy it here."

"Do you even know what the camps name is? or the programs schedule?" Danny asked, frowning up at her.

"Uh," she blinked, before shrugging, "didn't get a chance to look into it. Vlad kind of just told us about it last night, said it was supposed to be a surprise."

"Anyway," she continued, ruffling his hair with a tight smile, "give it a chance. We'll see you in two weeks. Love you." And with a kiss, she rushed off to the GAV and left Danny to watch as the car sped away, almost knocking a tree over in it's haist.

Turning with a sigh, Danny slowly made his way to an adult dressed in bright orange. "Check in!" the guy shouted, waving his arm over his head, clutching a clipboard in the other hand. "Check in over here!"

"Excuse me?" Danny asked, already done with the situation.

"Oh! Hello there!" the guy smiled, way too cheerfully for eight in the morning. "What's your name, kid?" he asked, already scanning the board.

"Danny," Danny huffed, squinting up at the sky. It looked like it was going to be clear and sunny today, hopefully it stays that way into the night. He might as well take the opportunity to stargaze, it'll probably be the only good thing he'd get out of this.

"Last name?" the guy asked, flipping through the pages. Just how many kids were going to be here?

"Fenton," Danny answered, watching as the man's smile grew tighter. Obviously Vlad had pissed them off then, not surprising really. The fruitloop probably made up the whole plan yesterday and Karened his way to getting Danny a spot. There goes his chance to stay under the radar.

"Right!" the guy continued, trying to not seem annoyed, "because of your... late addition, you'll be in Cabin 18. Your roommates are already unpacked and settled in, so you'll just have to deal with whatever beds are left. Sorry, kid."

He was very obviously not sorry. Time for damage control then; does he go with classic deception or outrageous lies? hmmm, probably be better off with half truths.

"That's fine, sorry about my uncle and all the trouble we've put you through. He's been trying to make up for accidentally leaving me on his private island last month. Dad probably told him I liked camping or something." Which was true, both the being left on an island and his dad's nonstop talk of going camping with just Danny, which probably gave Vlad the idea for this, now that Danny was thinking about it.

"Oh," the guy blinked, before awkwardly clearing his throat and glancing to the side. He smiled again, this time trying not to look baffled instead of annoyed. Well, being thought of as an unlucky, sympathetic rich kid was better than being the bratty rich kid.

A win's a win.

"Well," he checked off Danny's name, digging into his bag and handing over a key. "Here's your key, don't lose it. We've had to install locks after last year's incident. Only those who sleep in the cabin or camp officials have keys. So if you do lose it, please let one of us know and we'll get you another one. If you find a key, please bring it to the main office were we can store it safely."

"Cabin 18 is down that path," the guy turned and pointed, "and will be three cabins back on your left side."

Turning back, the guy gestured for Danny to start walking, "get settled in; we'll be going over the rules once everyone is here. So, around 11, head down to the cafeteria and take a seat at your numbered table. Also, don't go exploring without supervision, we don't need to send out another search party."

"Right," Danny acknowledged, walking as quickly as he could while not making it obvious he was running away.

This was going to suck.

Not only did Vlad have some new plan to probably kill Dad, but Danny would be stuck out here camping and unable to disappear long enough to deal with Vlad without anyone noticing his disappearance if the search party comment meant anything.

Amity was four and a half hours away, which he could fly, but it'd take him at least thirty minutes at his top speed to get there, then however long to fight Vlad, stop his plan, then another thirty to get back.

If they really were as stingy about the rules as he was starting to think they were, he wouldn't even get ten minutes away before someone noticed his unauthorized absence.

"Don't leave the path," some random camp leader shouted, glaring at two kids trying to sneak away through the trees. They had only gotten five feet off the dirt path before being spotted.

Shaking his head, Danny kept walking and watched the number of cabins pass by. It seemed they were being grouped in rows of six. which meant cabin 18 would be the sixth one in row three.

Coincidentally, that was the last row.

Which meant there was another eighteen cabins down the other path where all the girls had been heading. Which meant 36 cabins full of kids.

Great...

Wait, how many people fit into a cabin?

Next (to be written.)

Danny gets sent by his parents to summer camp as a surprise. Danny isn't exactly happy about it. He opens the door to his cabin and gets introduced to his two bunk mates, Damian Wanye and his older brother Tim. The two had also gotten sent to camp by surprise. In reality, they were sent undercover on a mission to investigate something odd happening in the camp. Tim expected Damian to run Danny off within a week, but that didn't happen now. The two have to work hard to keep their work under the radar while trying to act like normal teens around Danny. Danny is aware of this but doesn't care to get involved up until things get supernatural in nature

Damian and Tim: *seething with rage bc they have to room together while pretending to be normal kids and investigate something suspicious about this summer camp AND the damn kid that they’re rooming with won’t leave*

Danny: *with glowing eyes and ghost powers* Wow, people outside of Illinois are weird asf

[starboye]

starring: sebastian stan x male reader

request: dads best friend sebastian who has a crush on reader and readers dad and reader stay over at sebs place and readers dad falls asleep and reader catches seb jerking off and decides to help out, im thinking rough sex with degrading and something else dilfy

warnings: smut, age difference, cursing, teasing, rough sex, spitting in mouth, oral sex, deepthroating, degradation, fucked till passed out, mentions of hickeys, daddy kink, dom!sebastian

no gonna lie now your dads friend was hot, i mean he gave to right amount of dilf and soft vibe but also 'ill fuck you in front of mirror just so you can see the mess im making of you' kinda guy, and he knew that you knew.

sebastian also had a crush on your though, but it should be forbidden, he knows he shouldn't be thinking about his best friend's son like this but whenever you walk around in those shorts that are hugging your ass so well he just cant help hut palm his bulge a little.

it was a kind of tradition for you and your dad to go over to sebastians house on the weekend, they would usually just hang out or go fishing while you sat around bored just scrolling through your phone, and this weekend was no different, seb greeting you both at the door.

he didnt hesitate to take a sneaky look at your ass when you walked past him, just imagining what it would be like to feel it in his hands, fingering you till you screamed his name and begged for more but he cant do that.

sebastian only had two rooms, his room and a guest room which means your dad slept on the couch while you slept right across from sebs room, the rest of the day it was just boring activities of fishing and chopping wood for the fire.

but it was nice to see his muscles flexing everytime he hit the wood, even better when he would lift up his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and his rock hard abs would show, so why not act a little dumb to get a feel.

"seb i dont know how to do this" you had the most bimbo voice you could put on and i worked, sebastian walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you "let me show you how its done, you lift up and try and aim at the center of the log mkay" he said it with such a sultry tone in your ear it had you unintentionally grinding on him.

and with a quick swing you broke the log into two pieces "thanks seb your so helpful" you look him up and down and bite your lip slightly "yeah no problem" he stammers a little walking away "hey guys dinners ready" your dad shouted from the back porch and you guys all made your way to the dinner table.

dinner was quite uneventful other than the boring talk of football games and occasional flirty stare at sebastian which always gad him glancing away, byt the end of the night your dad was sleep on the couch while you sat in bed texting some friends until you heard some muffled moans from across the hall, investigating mire you found out it was seb doing all the moaning.

peaking in through the crack in his door "fuck y/n please faster, you feel so good, yeah you like my dick wrecking your hole huh" he was fucking some fleshlight with his eyes tightly shut just imagining it was you on top of his dick making his say such obscenities, walking in further you grabbed his hand stopping him and making his heart drop.

"why dont i help you out with that" you offer and before he could even protest you were deepthroating his cock all the way down, it felt so good finally get to suck off sebastian after so long of wanting him and you could tell he licked it with how much he was trying to silence all his moans and after no more than 30 seconds he was filling up your throat with his load.

his cum still all over your lips when you lifted your head, he just could resist pulling you into a kiss, licking off his own cum from your mouth "fuck your mouth feels so good" he huffed "well that's not the only thing that feels good" you were already stripping off your clothes and getting on top of him, you spat on your finger to open up your hole a little but seb stopped you.

"no let me do it" he slipped his fingers into your mouth to lube them up before pulling them out, a string of spit still connected to your mouth as he brought them closer and closer, slipping them in making you moan, his thick and rough fingers had you rocking your hips at the feeling but with a a strong slap to your ass and a stern no from him you were doing whatever he said.

"you ready now" he slaps his dick on your now loose hole "yes sir" you nodded your head and he was fucking into in no time, thrusting upward into your tightness while you both tried your hardest to stay quiet but that was tough as is when you both felt so good to each other.

so sebastian flipped you over on your back with him on top, your legs on both sides of him, his cock felt so good pounding into you "who would've thought my friends son was such a dirty slut, grinding your ass on me and teasing me all the time with you lewd looks you should be punished for that right" his voice was low yet raspy ot was just so hot to hear it had you clenching around him with your nails digging into his back and cumming all over both your stomachs.

"and such a dirty boy, but whos dirty boy are you hm" he smirked at your already fucked out expression "fuck, yours only yours daddy" you panted "yeah thats my name baby, i only wanna hear you call me daddy and sir mkay" he grabbed you chin and pulled it down to spit on your mouth "yes sir" you breathlessly got out.

he lifted your legs all the way up to throw over his shoulders, you grabbing a pillow to bite on to try and stay quiet "mm mm i wanna hear it" he fucked you rougher, moving one hand from your leg to wrap around your throat "moan for me" he ordered, all you could let out were drawled out moans, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as sebastian fucked you stupid on his cock.

"more baby i wanna hear more" he clenched his teeth together as he felt himself fill you up with the first of many loads of tonight, you moaned out a weak daddy feeling him start up his thrusts again "were not done until i say were done" he said, his voice soft yet deep, just enough to get you back in the mood to.

you both fucked all night until you passed out from it all, your head was spinning but you could still feel seb take you back to your room and cover you up so your dad wouldn't see the hickeys on your chest, the next morning was a little lighter than usual "so how did you guys sleep" your dad asked "okay" you both answered with a slight smirk on your faces, this was definitely gonna be a reoccurring thing.

taglist: @mailmango @boypied @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac @r0mcom-8ngel

[tobioapple]

DRUNK ON YOU ; haikyuu!! boys and how they behave in-between your legs. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

notes: hey! apple here, this is my first time writing a fic for Tumblr, so I hope you enjoy, I'm kinda nervous about posting this but sometimes the gooning gets to you, yk? I wanna mention my friend, who helped me beta read this thing and thank her for it. She'll prob keep beta reading proximate fics so yeah!! like and reblog if you like this. Also, I'll probably post a part 2 if asked I just can't pick what charas to write abouttt.

C.W: afab!reader, use of pet-names (slut, angel, doll, babe, etc.), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, kissing, aftercare mentioned, add more as I write it.

nsfw under the cut!

OIKAWA TOORU:

Enjoys teasing you so he would go easy at first, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs, biting into the soft flesh harshly enough to send shivers down your spine and straight to your core

A few minutes in, after you’re practically begging for him just to touch you, he finally gives in.

You’re not his first girl, of course he’s had some experience beforehand, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. The way he travels along your folds, his tongue, sly and warm against them, turns your stomach into a knot.

He can be a little mean sometimes, getting you on the edge just to pull away as soon as your hands pull his head, chasing to relieve the need for more. Tooru takes a moment to stare at your throbbing cunt, two digits spreading the flesh open just enough to take a peek of the abused clenching walls, ready for his girth. 

Oikawa stands behind you, big hands keeping your ass up, bared chest pressed down onto the mattress. It’s been a while like this, long fingers that barely graze against your needy cunt as the buckling of your hips increases; a desperate attempt to feed the hunger of the aching hole between your now tired legs. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Tooru’s voice comes out husky, ill intentions spilling from his pink plump lips. How could a guy so pretty be so vulgar at the same time? If seen in the streets, it would be impossible to notice the pervert he was behind those hazel, glossy eyes.

“Please, Tooru, don’t be mean.” A small grin appears on his face as he nods, you can’t see him, but know deep down that he enjoys your pleading way too much to keep a stern expression. Who could blame him though? The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon was right in front of him, legs spread and ready for him to take.

You can feel the bed sinking at your feet and a wave of excitement rushes all over your body, ready to feel the fruits of your patience coming to reality. Soon, a heat hits your core, his face so close you can feel him breathing against your tainted crotch. 

“Aight, doll.” You’re pulled down against the crook of his nose, a sensation so good a small whine leaves your lips along with some cuss word he cannot care enough to try decode. “Aw, are you that needy that just me getting close makes you moan? Such an angel turned into a slut as soon as she’s underneath me.”

There is something so great about the way he talks to you, the raspy voice resonating in your ears all the way to your brain like a distorted melody. He always finds a way to make you melt in his embrace just from this, tearing every layer of decency apart like a knife against lace. 

Still, he doesn’t touch you with anything but adoration, even when he is being rough and mean, you can feel the tip of his fingers that trace on your skin like a curious child does on a carved pottery set, enough to feel the texture of it but not to break it. Experienced fingers that would shake from time to time, the thought of hurting more than he intended, restraining his overpowering strength.

A grunt escapes from his lips – Be it because of your desperate pleas of exasperation to the small kitty licks or because he actually couldn’t take one more second against your sex without drinking of you like a thirsty man. – as he finally drowns in the pool of wetness splattered all over the bare skin in front of him. Face up and down, hands that forced you to stay still while squirming and shaking like a frightened deer, pulling you closer.

It didn’t take long for the typical build up to appear down your tightened abdomen, your vision now foggy from both tears and pleasure, not allowing you to glimpse at the man behind you, even if you tried. The slick falling from his chin warned him about the now soon to happen relief, so, pitifully (Even for Tooru, who was now pussy drunk) he closed his lips and pulled away.

“No, please.”

“Come on, angel, you can take it.”

You two had a long night ahead. 

HINATA SHOYO:

Crazy stamina, could spend hours giving head and enjoy it more than getting it himself.

He’s like a puppy in heat, doesn’t even take off your panties before nastily sucking onto your clit over the fabric, wet and sloppy noises filling the room as his saliva mixes with your slick.

Gets drunk on you like two minutes in, carelessly doing all it takes to fulfil his needs, not caring if you’re squirming and crying while your thighs try to close around his head due to overstimulation. 

Literally cums in his shorts to the sight of you crying and babbling from his touch, eyes half-lidded and glossy. 

You’re lying limp on the bed, face covered in smudged eyeliner that goes all the way from your eyes to your chin. How long has it been since Shoyo slid between your legs? It certainly felt like an eternity. 

His noises were incredibly obscene, slurping on every droplet that fell from your aching cunt right into his mouth, savoring the taste as if he was drinking on a bottle of the finest European scotch. Calloused hands scoop your hips closer, impeding you from pulling away, he couldn’t have that now. 

“Fuck– I missed you so much, babe, s’fucking much. Couldn’t wait to get home and taste you.” His voice, now excused from quiet, rang in your ears like honey. “Ah– Missed you too, sho.”

His teeth caught a bit of your flesh between them, pulling just enough to make your back arch and a long moan escape your lips. 

Shoyo leaves your pussy alone – Just for a moment – tracing a line of kisses all over your lower abdomen going up to your chest until you’re both facing each other, the hotness of his heavy breathing panting against your lips.

“Taste s’good, baby, can’t get enough of you. Here, try it by yourself.” Shoyo, as sweet as he is, forces your mouth open just enough to slide his tongue inside. The muscle felt warmth and sweet on your own, exploring the cavity so passionately, you could barely keep up with his hunger.

You could sense the heat of his palm cupping your sex, instinctively grinding on it. At this point it didn’t matter anymore if the friction burned your skin, all you wanted was the pent up tingling feeling to disappear.

“Wanna come, don’t you? So eager for me.”

A sly finger presses at the entrance of your throbbing walls, teasing the exterior of it mischievously. After some seconds – That took way more self restraint from Shoyo than he expected – he finally gave you what you needed, fast and rough movements that attacked your mushy insides just right. He knew you well enough to find that forbidden sweet spot blindly. 

Your abdomen flared, cunt clenching around his fingers as his thumb pressed and circled your clit, helping to reach your high as soon as possible. Not that he needed you to do anything, his shorts were already stained from just the sight of you, fucked dumb by nothing more than his fingers. 

He noticed the way your legs shook, and how your eyes rolled all the way back, panting like a puppy while your body turned putty in his arms. “There you go, atta girl.” 

A soft cloth –more likely than not, his uniform tee– cleaned all the mess on your skin, the vulgar mix of sticky sweat, spit and your own juices, all gone as he brushed the fabric on your sore body. Once he was done, he laid next to you, placing soft kisses all over your face. 

Sure, he was amazing at making you finish, but the aftercare was top level. 

[leechqnsgirl]

⋆🐾⋆ your first kiss with nerd bf!jake

jake x fem!reader | wc: 1.3k | masterlist | warnings: reader is mentioned to have previous boyfriend(s), reader and jake are implied to be virgins but no words are explicitly said. | highschool au

----

you started dating jake exactly a month ago. and it was the best decision you've ever made.

he was always so gentle with you and he made you feel seen. you felt like you didn't have to put up a mask around him.

and he feels the same way.

jake could feel how fast he was falling for you. but he did his best to suppress his quickly growing affection for you.

when jake had asked you out, he was fully expecting to be turned down. especially since the last girl he had a crush on had done exactly that.

jake sat in front of you in physics class. and he knew you were struggling considering how much muttering and mumbling you'd do under your breath.

one day he worked up the courage to ask if you'd like him to tutor you. and as much as you would've wanted to say no, the second you looked into his eyes, you found yourself nodding your head.

you never really noticed jake before. you just knew him as the smart kid in science class. but jake? he noticed you for sure. he thought you were beautiful. effortlessly so. and that's why it took him two weeks before he even talked to you.

the more study sessions you two would have, the more you realized just how much of a nice guy he was.

you could sense your feelings start to grow for him. it was all because of the way he was just so...attentive.

guys in your school usually want a girl who's pretty and smart. just so they could say they had a pretty and smart girlfriend.

but you don't get that kind of vibe from jake. not from the way he trips over himself sometimes, laughing his embarrassment off. not in the way he would stutter when you two made eye contact for too long. and definitely not in the way he seemed to bite back a smile every time you agreed to meet with him after school. for studying or just for the sake of being with him.

it was already may. finals were coming closer and you had no one to thank for your confidence besides jake. it was all because of him.

you couldn't help but feel a bit worried. worried that when summer and the next school year comes, jake might grow away from you.

but on a random thursday in may, Jake had sent you a text. saying to meet him at the local coffee shop after school.

and so you did. as soon as your last class ended, you walked over to the cafe that you and he loved.

as soon as you walked in, the bell by the door chimed and you saw him sitting against the window.

you walked over to him with a smile already present on your face.

both his hands were behind his back, and his expression came off as terribly anxious.

your smile faltered a bit, wondering what was wrong with him. and it wasn't until he breathed out and brought a bouquet of flowers from behind him.

"um, I know this is all sudden but..." he licked his lips, " y/n, will you go on this date with me?" he extended his hands, waiting for a response.

you were frozen for a few seconds, eyes wide and brain busy with thoughts.

jake called you after school, not to study, not to just see you. but to ask you on a date. to say you were shocked would be an understatement.

you always found him charming but you never thought he'd ask you out.

shaking your head slightly, you smiled.

"I can't believe you jake." you chuckled, feeling your face get warm.

you took the flowers out of hand, hugging them close to your body as he grabbed your elbow and guided you to a table.

that was how your first date went, and ever since that moment, you've grown to love Jake more than you'd like to admit.

by the time of your second date, he asked you to be his girlfriend. you accepted of course.

and now it's been one month. he's been the best boyfriend ever. he's always so gentle, so cautious with you that you can't help but coo at him.

--

the two of you were at a park, having a picnic.

jake looked so effortlessly attractive at this moment with the wind softly blowing on him and his glasses framing his face.

you put your head on his shoulder as he fed you a strawberry. after swallowing it, you sat up and looked at him.

no words left you, you were just admiring him. and he knew you were, which is why he ducked his head. the tips of his ears were getting red.

"jake?" he mumbled out a response, still refusing to lift his head.

you rolled your eyes as you brought a hand up to his cheek. "jake do you know why I said yes?"

that caught his attention. because that was a question that kept his mind busy.

how could you, someone so gorgeous in all meanings of the word, agree to date him? just plain jake.

he was fully expecting to get rejected by you that day at the cafe, for you to say you weren't into him like that.

jake never put himself so high to expect girls to like him. he wasn't like other boys. he didn't prioritize sports, he was terrible at making first moves and couldn't, for the life of him, talk to girls. girls he especially liked.

and so, that's why he shook his head at your question.

this made you frown, upset at how he seemed so genuine in his response.

"oh, jake..." with your body turned, you opened your arms to him. allowing him to fall into you, his head tucked into your shoulder.

with a hand on the back of his head, you spoke, "you're the best guy I've ever dated. really. I've never had a boy be so calm and attentive and your looks are just a plus." you giggled at that last part.

"it's true, I never sat down and thought about my feelings for you before you asked me out. but in that moment? when you finally did? I knew I couldn't say no even if I wanted to." you smiled at the memory.

"and I don't know how your old girlfriends felt about you, I don't even know how they were able to let you go-" suddenly, he moved off of you. shaking his head.

"huh?" you didn't know what he meant by that.

with both his hands holding one of yours, playing with your fingers, he let out a breath.

"y-you're my first girlfriend."

you're pretty sure your heart melted. the way he's been with you makes so much sense now.

his actions, his words, his movements. they were all unsure.

unsure because he's never done any of this before.

"I asked one girl out before. last year in sophomore year. but, she shut me down..."

you rolled your eyes, "that's her loss, jake." both of your hands rested on his face now. "I liked you, Jake. and I still do. I might even feel something a bit more so." his breath hitched, eyes widened a bit at your words.

"I like you, too. a lot." he smiles, his eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second.

"y-y/n?" he bites his lower lip. "canikissyou?" he says the sentence too fast, but you understood nonetheless.

wordlessly, you leaned into him. pressing your lips against his. his and your eyes closed in the middle of it. his hands being brought to your waist as he tilted his head a bit.

a few seconds passed and he pulled away.

you two stare at each other for a while, both trying your best to hide your smiles.

"you were my first kiss." he confesses, "and I'm glad you were." you gave up your facade, your smile getting the better of you.

"and I hope you're gonna be a lot of my firsts." he says with a blush rising on his cheeks.

"me too." 

[chrissv4mp]

68 + 46 + 37 ? 🥺 for normal billie

billie eilish 01...

⟶ 37. “you bought a vibrator?”

⟶ 46. “can i use a toy on you?”

⟶ 68. “can you stay quiet if i take this call?”

billie had been busy all day, running errands, taking shark and brutus out for their walks, answering calls, and so much more that you couldn't bother to keep track of anymore. when she finally walked into your shared room for the first time since this morning, you thought it'd the perfect time to finally give her a break.

"hey, ma," she greeted tiredly, kicking off her shoes and crawling onto the bed slowly. her hand cupped your cheek, lips meeting yours in a slow, gentle kiss.

you kissed her back happily, hands finding her hips and pulling her onto your lap completely. she chuckled in surprise, cocking an eyebrow in suspicion. she didn't have enough time to question you before you kissed her again, a little more desperate than before.

she smiled against your lips, pulling away just slightly to talk. you beat her to it. "can i use a toy on you?"

billie froze for a moment, swallowing in shock as she processed your words fully. she nodded once, subtly, before nodding again, the movement more eager than the first. you guided her off your lap before reaching into your bedside drawer and grabbing the toy. a small, light pink vibrator that you bought a week ago with billie in mind—her hands had been full the whole week, you just wanted to take her mind off everything.

"jus' relax for right now," you murmur, crawling back on the bed and pulling at the waistband of her sweatpants only to release and watch them snap against her skin.

she tugged them down along with her panties, a thin string of her arousal stretching between the fabric and her cunt before breaking off when she kicked them off her ankles. you finally brought the toy into her line of view, and billie bit her lip, smiling.

"you bought a vibrator?" she giggled quietly, but she was quickly cut off when you turned it on and pressed it to her clit.

the whimper that escaped her throat was music to your ears, your eyes trained on her body and the way her muscles relaxed when she finally succumbed to the pleasure and let herself take a break for once. her head fell back against the headboard when you ran it over her slit, jaw falling open and releasing moan after moan of your name and a string of curses. your lips curled into a pleased smile.

the moment was perfect, exactly what you imagined she needed—until a different vibration on the other bedside table startled the two of you. billie looked down at you, mouth opening to say something—but you moved to kiss her before the words could get out.

you pulled away, lips still brushing as you spoke. "i'll answer it." you murmur, pulling away and reaching for her phone. "can you stay quiet if i take this call?"

she nodded quickly, biting her lip to stifle her moans, eyes following you as you grabbed her phone and answered the call. it was one of her tour managers, probably calling to congratulate her on finishing it without going insane. billie could barely make out what you were saying with how hard she was trying to control the volume of her noises, but it was hard with the way you kept pressing the vibrator harder against her clit without even realizing. or maybe you did know.

"yeah," you say, eyes flicking to billie. "she forgot her phone here, probably noticed when she was halfway to the store and didn't wanna turn back, y'know?" you lie smoothly, watching as billie's chest rose and fell quickly.

her pussy clenched around nothing, the knot in her stomach so close to unraveling. you tried wrapping up the call quickly, dismissing the guy in the most polite way—but he wouldn't stop talking, and billie couldn't control herself anymore.

a high-pitched moan passed her lips as she came hard, thighs shaking and fists grabbing the sheets so hard her knuckles bled white.

"...okay, i gotta go."

⟶ tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @hkkuugu @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaeilishh @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz