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sexxyasia · 3 days ago

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side to side [nicholas chavez x !fem!reader]

about: nicholas finds himself becoming infatuated with the girl he's been training and helping workout after months of hanging out and exercising together and decides to act on his feelings and thoughts.

warnings: p in v, language, oral sex (male receiving), public sex, rough sex, degrading, face fucking, use of daddy, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of porn, nicholas having an extremely high sperm count, kinda bdsm (he's hurting her on purpose and making sure shes in pain) anal fingering, peeping tom type behavior, mentions of self pleasuring, size kink, praise kink and y/n can be any race/ethnicity (theres nothing in this story that ties her down to one thing)

(btw this is loosely inspired by side to side by ariana grande)

"do you think you could handle a few more inches?" nicholas asked as you squatted down.

"uhh yeah maybe like 3-4 but i don't know." you replied bending you knees a few more inches as you worked your thigh muscles.

"oh your doing so well y/n, you hardly even need me at this point" he chuckled quietly to you, you turned your head slightly to look back at him seeing his perfectly white smile and his gaze set on your legs.

a slight groan left your lips on your last rep causing your eyes to shut and nicholas' hands to fly to your hips to help support you, slowly his hands pushed you up.

"slower y/n... slower. you don't wanna hurt yourself in a warm up now do you?" embarrassed you smiled and looked away "oh my gosh i'm fine!" you looked up at him and said.

"you know what... you should work your core today. because it seems like every time we get together all you end up doing is glutes and i'm stuck begging you to work something else!" he remarked in a friendly tone

you nodded and followed him as he walked over to the weights rack. "today i want you to start off with a 20." you rolled your eyes in annoyance "i wanna do something easier." he smiled and handed you a 20 instead of your usual 10.

you sat on the mats that'd been set out and put your knees up. you began doing your usual set of russian twists. slightly moaning between each twist as you feel your ab muscles tighten and burn.

in a hushed tone you heard him let out a light laugh, you looked up at him as he laughed and asked him what was so funny.

"you just kinda sound like someone i used to be obsessed with" he said with a smile.

you moaned a little as you twisted slightly faster. "who? tell me" your face twisting and eyes shutting tightly.

"some pornstar i used to watch and i- nevermind it's kind of embarrassing to talk about." he awkwardly stated as he fiddled with some cleaner and a rag.

your face dropped in confusion. "not what i expected but okay..." you said. he chuckled and looked away.

in all the time he's been your personal trainer he's never gotten so... personal. you felt as if you should say something so that he didn't feel so awkward and embarrassed about it all.

"well when i get bored or can't sleep i use my vibrator... its pink."

he looked down at you and smiled before quickly clearing his throat and looking back away from you.

he obviously didn't feel anymore comfortable after you shared that. you could tell from the way he slightly held his breath anytime you made that moaning sound again.

a noticeable silence filled the space between you as you finished up your set placed the weights on the ground and stood up. he handed you the cleaner and rag to wipe off your weights. "heh, thanks, i was just gonna ask... but you... gave it to me... first" you awkwardly replied in a hushed tone.

he sighed loudly before stating "you know, you should just do glutes again today... right?" nicholas chuckled in an embarrassed fashion. "oh of course," you smiled "that's much easier than core for me." you agreed.

༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄

after you finished your workout you were completely parched and famished, which you made clear to nicholas throughout the entire day. you toweled off and picked up your weights which you took the weights rack after toweling off.

once you'd finished you walked back to the locker room and showered. since no one else was in the locked room you had no issues being fully nude out in the open. then the door swung open, your hand flew to your towel to cover up your breasts and you backed into a corner trying to hide from whoever just came in. until they spoke you had no idea who it was.

loud footsteps inched closer and closer to your hiding spot before finally, "uhh y/n you left your water bottle on the leg press i thought i'd- whoa where are your clothes?" he said once he'd seen you.

"holy shit nicholas, what if this whole room was filled with naked ladies!" you annoyingly remarked to him. "then i guess i'd have a much harder time keeping my eyes on just you... right?" he giggled back. "and besides, it's 10pm on a saturday. no ones fucking here except teenage boys in pajamas and lonely old men going through a mid life crisis."

you rolled your eyes in response. "i've worked with people here for years. you think i don't understand how this shit works... c'mon baby."

"i thought i'd give it back because you're so thirsty. but it appears theres nothing in here anymore. right?" you shook your head and snatched the bottle out of his hands.

nicholas turned his back and walked toward the bench across from you. once he sat he began to stare at the parts of your body the towel hadn't covered, which was pretty much everywhere since you'd done such a shoddy job covering as much as you needed to, due to the unusual positioning of the towel on your tits. "stop staring freak..." you whispered to yourself while staring back at him.

"i can't help it you're just so fucking sexy... sorry if that was out of line. but what i want to say is 10 times worse." he whispered while getting up and inching closer to you. "then say it, i can handle it... i'm a big girl." you snarkily replied while looking up at him.

by the time he'd started his next sentence he'd been towering over you and lightly stroking your arm. "i've jerked off to the thought of this moment more times than i've ever watched that internet bitch and wished it was you." your breath hitched and heart beat quickened at his sexually vulgar words.

you began backing up until your back hit the wall. "we're in a gym for fucks sake." he chuckled

"what... you scared to get caught, bitch?" he whispered. his intense eyes stared at yours, it felt like a knife to the heart. his piercing gaze left you feeling extremely horny. a feeling you'd never felt for nicholas... ever!

"no i'm not scared... it's just not the right place." you said trying to push further into the wall, practically praying a hole opened up and swallowed you.

"so then you must be a virgin... a really horny virgin. you ever play with your pussy and think of me?" he said while raising his hand up and over your head so

"no" you quickly replied.

"well that's okay, because by tomorrow you're gonna want to." he whispered in your ear.

he ripped the towel you closely held to your chest and threw it behind him onto the ground. your breasts lightly jumped with his quick movement. and your erect nipples stuck up into the air as the cool air hit them.

he brought his thick long pointer finger up to your temple and slowly rubbed it.

the water droplets on your forehead dripped down onto the floor as he lightly stroked your face. "how about this. you suck my cock until i cum in your mouth. then i make you cum so hard you can't feel your legs."

you slowly nodded, his hand traveled from your cheek to the back of your head. he slowly scratched the back of your head as he pushed you down onto your knees. his gray sweatpants were beginning to bulge out of place with his erection. you stared at his slowly growing member in his pants.

"fuck are you waiting for, go ahead and do it already." you pulled down his waistband and calvin klein underwear in one swift movement, placing it under his balls and watching as his cock bounced out and hit just above his belly button.

slowly you placed your hand on the base of his cock. stroking up and down his shaft, causing him to slowly exhale as your small hand rubbed up and down his length. he smiled as you licked the thick and prominent veins on his dick and practically made out with his pink and leaky tip.

his big hand rubbed the back of your head and pushed you down onto his cock, making you gag with the movement. but shortly he allowed you to slowly suck up and down. you teased him as you lightly sucked and hardly moved, making him groan and whimper.

then his hand came grasping your head as hard as possible before he pushed your head up and down his length at a medium tempo. causing him to groan even louder and grip even harder. his thick cock shoved into your throat at once made you choke and breathe heavy. your spit trickled down your chin and onto the brown tile floor of the locker room.

he pulled his length out from your mouth and placed it on your check, allowing you to feel the throbbing on your skin.

a string of saliva from your mouth to the tip of his cock stayed put as he slapped his cock all over your left cheek, leaving them wet from your saliva and his pre-cum.

you looked at his cock, leaky, red, throbbing, and huge where the only things in your mind at the moment. his once light pink tip was a flashy lighter red and his balls were hardened.

he placed his cock back into your mouth. this time both hands on either side of your head and he slowly began to thrust his cock back and forth into your mouth. your eyes lightly watered as you looked up at him.

he paused for a second before talking. "baby, i need you to take my cock. because i wanna cum so bad. can you do that f'me?" he asked. you fluttered your eyes as a response and he smiled down at you.

he began again. this time he pace quickened and his breathing got faster. his cock slammed into the back of your throat causing you to gag and whimper on it. your hands wandered to his lower back as support. as he fucked your throat harder and harder your choking became louder and louder which only made him hornier.

then he pulled his cock out of your mouth. "you nasty little slut, i wanna cum inside that pussy. not that mouth. get the fuck up on that bench so i can rail you how i want." he whispered to you, causing your pussy to become an even wetter mess than before.

you headed to his instruction and got on the bench, bending over it so that he could get a nice view of your ass. "nick, i don't think a bench is the right place, what if it hurts?" you questioned.

"then you fucking ignore it, you shouldn't be thinking about anything but my cock getting all the cream out of that cunt."

you nodded in response.

he hovered behind you and rubbed your ass. his hands spanked you and his nails dug into your soft skin. he groaned at the sight of you flinching under his heavy touch.

slowly, he placed his finger inside of your tight asshole. he pumped it in and out causing you to gasp at the new sensation and got your pussy even wetter. his long thick finger slightly stretched out your virgin asshole.

as your body left a white ring of cream around the base of his finger he groaned and praised you. "good fucking god baby, just how daddy likes it. nice and creamy... good girl."

he pulled his finger out of you and aligned his cock with your dripping cunt. he quickly slid his length into your pussy causing your eyes to cross and back to arch at the feeling.

"yes daddy, mhm fuck me." his length hit your g-spot perfectly, making you squirm around and groan. the way it curved just right made your legs shake and head spin.

when his cock hit deep inside of you it scratched your cervix and caused you to flinch as he thrusted quickly into you. the grip of your pussy around his cock made him whimper and gasp.

"you are such a bad girl baby, such a bad little slut, such a dirty little whore." his way of degrading you rocketed you closer and closer to your orgasm.

his fingernails gripped into your ass even harder and made you flinch, although he told you to ignore the pain, it was all too much. "nick... fuck that hurts, stop!" his nails slowly pulled out of the supple skin on your backside, leaving you relieved from the pain. then he spanked you.

"shut the fuck up you slut. if you can't take a little pain you can't take daddy's fucking cock... isn't that right? you can't take my cock? is it too big for this little virgin pussy?" he taunted.

"no daddy it's not." you disregarded the fact he continuously referred to you as a virgin, even though you hadn't been for years.

his cock felt like a punch in the cervix with how deep and fast he was going. "mhm daddy yes." you moaned out, even though it'd been causing you pain you couldn't help but moan; it felt so good.

his movements quickened and his hips hit against your causing your ass and his lower stomach to turn red from the friction, your breath hitched and his whimpers and groans grew louder and louder.

"fuck yea, im gonna cum inside of you baby... you want that? you wanna be a little cum slut?" although you wanted to answer you know it was a rhetorical question. no matter your answer he was still planning on ejaculating inside of your glistening, needy, wet, tight cunt.

his fingernails dug deeper causing you to squeal and convulse and you got closer to your long awaited orgasm.

then his cum came out in hot heavy spurts inside of your pussy, all over your back, and on the floors. the feeling of his warm seed filling you up forced you to cum just seconds later. the way your pussy contracted afterward pushed almost all of his hot sticky juices to come gushing out of you like a waterfall.

༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄𓇼🪩𓇼༄

he sat down next to you, out of breath and practically still at his climax as little beads of his semen dripped out of his tip causing him to whimper and sigh as it all came out.

"fuck this happens everytime. i cum so much that when i think im done i still gotta jerk some of it out." he joked, he brought his hand to his now half erect penis and stroked it a few times more before more spurts of cum flew out.

"shit i gotta clean that up..." he chuckled to himself

you smiled and sat down next to him. "that was kinda fun..." you whispered in his ear. "that was really fun." he counteracted. "then maybe we should do it again. but next time at my house." you suggested.

he smiled and nodded.

"well thanks nick, now i'm gonna be walking side to side." you joked to ease the tension that was still there.

"i'm sorry it just felt too good." he responded.

after a light silence you finally added. "well after we clean this up, i guess i'll see you in 3 days."

he chuckled and began cleaning up the mess you two had made.

also i was too lazy to proofread soooo mb :o

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harrysfolklore · 3 days ago

Note

we need a fic about carlos’ win and piastri sisters’ reaction to it

THE LITTLE BITCH WON 🥺 ahhh im so happy for carlos, i had to write this ! i hope yo like thisss

READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

The Mexico City sunrise painted the sky as you and Carlos made your way to the track. He'd been unusually quiet during breakfast, that focused energy already building.

"Nervous?" you asked, squeezing his hand as your driver navigated through the early morning traffic.

"No," he said automatically, then caught your knowing look. "Maybe a little. Starting from pole here… the run to Turn 1 is so long."

"You've got this," you brought his hand to your lips.

"Max will be aggressive-"

"And you'll handle it," you cut him off. "Like the little bitch you are."

That broke his tension, making him laugh. "How do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better by insulting me."

"It's a gift," you grinned. "Now stop overthinking and kiss me before we get to the track and you go all serious racing driver on me."

He obliged, one hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you close. The kiss was deep and slow, full of everything he wasn't saying.

When you pulled back, his brown eyes locked into yours, a soft edge on them that made you melt.

It was hard to think that those same eyes glared you across the paddock once and now you were about to complete five months of being his girlfriend.

When you arrived at Ferrari, Reyes and Carlos Sr. were already there. Reyes pulled you into a warm hug while Carlos got swept up in pre-race preparations.

"My girl," she kissed both your cheeks. "You look beautiful today."

"Thank you, Reyes," you said, squeezing her hands before your eyes unconsciously drifted to the McLaren area.

"You're going to check on your brother?" she asked knowingly.

"Am I that predictable?"

"No, mi amor. Just a good sister."

You couldn't help but smile at that. Over the months you've slowly learned to not feel like you needed to choose between Carlos and Oscar, it was a slow process but their support made it easier.

You found Carlos doing his final preparations. "I'm going to check on Osc for a bit.”

He nodded, already half in race mode. "Tell him I said he's got this. The McLaren's race pace looked good."

"I will," you kissed his cheek. "See you on the podium, little bitch."

His engineer snorted, trying to cover it with a cough.

The walk to McLaren was filled with nervous energy. Early fans were already filling the grandstands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation.

The McLaren garage was quieter than Ferrari, the mood still heavy from yesterday's qualifying. You found Oscar in his driver room, staring intently at track maps.

"Brought you coffee," you held out his favorite pre-race drink. "And Carlos says your race pace looked good."

"Thanks," he took the cup but didn't meet your eyes. "For both."

You sat beside him, studying his face. "Talk to me, Osc. What's really going on?"

He was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer.

"I just..." he set down the coffee, running both hands through his hair. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for this. Like everyone made a mistake choosing me."

Your heart broke. "Oscar..."

"And I know it's stupid. I know I've earned my place here, but days like yesterday... it just brings all those doubts back."

"Look at me," you waited until he met your eyes. "Do you remember when you were ten, and you came home crying because some kid said you'd never make it to F1?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "And you made him eat dirt at school the next day."

"Exactly. And what did I tell you then?"

"That I was meant for this," his voice softened. "That you could see it in the way I drove, even in karts."

"And has that changed?"

"No, but-"

"No buts," you took his hands. "You're exactly where you're supposed to be, Oscar Piastri. Bad qualifyings don't change that. Bad races don't change that. You're my little brother, and I've never been wrong about you."

He squeezed your hands. "How do you always know what to say?"

"Big sister superpower," you kissed his forehead. "Now drink your coffee and show them what you can do from P17.”

“Thank you, sister,” he squeezed your shoulder, “Now go back to your man, he’s driving like a beast this weekend.”

When you returned to Ferrari, the pre-race energy was at its peak. Carlos was in his final preparations, but his eyes found yours immediately.

"Oscar okay?" he mouthed.

You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. Another side effect of your relationship was that Oscar and Carlos became closer than ever. Oscar looked up to him and Carlos grew so fond of him that he cared about him like an older brother.

It was something not even in your wildest dreams would make sense a year ago. But right now felt like the perfect dynamic.

The garage began clearing for the grid walk. Carlos pulled you aside quickly.

"Para suerte," he murmured, kissing you deeply.

"Little bitch," you whispered against his lips. "Go win this thing."

Reyes and Carlos Sr. were waiting in the garage, both greeting you with warm hugs as you settled in to watch the start.

"Nervous?" Reyes asked, taking your hand.

"Always," you admitted. "For both of them."

The formation lap began, your heart pounding as you watched Carlos lead the field around. The ambient temperature was rising, making tire management crucial.

"He's got this," Carlos Sr. said confidently. "Look how smooth his formation lap is."

The garage fell silent as five red lights appeared above the start line. Your hand found Reyes', both of you holding your breath. The Mexican heat was stifling, but you barely noticed, every nerve focused on the Ferrari at the front of the grid.

"Vamos, hijo," Carlos Sr. whispered, his usual composed demeanor cracking with nervous energy.

The lights went out, and twenty cars launched forward into the long run to Turn 1. Carlos got a perfect start, but Max's Red Bull was immediately in his slipstream, the blue car looming in Carlos's mirrors. Side by side they went into the first corner, neither giving an inch.

"Come on, come on," you whispered, unconsciously leaning forward.

Carlos held firm on the inside line, forcing Max to take the longer way around. Through Turn 2, the Ferrari emerged still leading, and the garage erupted. Engineers who usually maintained professional calm were jumping up and down.

"Tranquila, mi amor," Reyes squeezed your hand. "Look how controlled he is."

The pit stop window approached, tension ratcheting up. Ferrari brought Charles in first, the stop clean but nerve-wracking.

"Pushing too hard on those tires," Carlos Sr. observed as Carlos finally pitted.

When Carlos crossed the finish line first, the garage exploded. You hugged Reyes, both of you crying and laughing. Carlos Sr. wrapped you both in a bear hug, his usual composure forgotten as he shouted "¡Vamos!" repeatedly.

Through happy tears, you saw Carlos pump his fist as he drove past, and you couldn't be happier for him.

The podium ceremony felt eternal. When they finally played the Spanish anthem, you saw Carlos's eyes glistening as he sang along. He caught your gaze in the crowd and winked, making your heart flutter just like it did that first time you saw him win in Australia.

Back then, you tried to play it cool, like you didn't care that he won. But right now the story was completely different.

After the ceremonies and media obligations, Carlos finally made it back to the team. He lifted you off your feet the moment he saw you, spinning you around as you laughed.

"Mi amor," he breathed against your lips before kissing you deeply.

"My champion," you whispered back. "My little bitch."

He laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "Only yours."

Carlos received hugs, cheers and champagne showers from friends, team members and family. After taking some photos and watching him complete more interviews, it was time to head out and celebrate.

"I'm going to check on Oscar one more time," you told Carlos, as you walked through the paddock.

"Tell him to come to dinner," Carlos said. "He drove well today, P8 from P17."

You found Oscar in the McLaren garage, already changed and packing up.

"Hey champ," you smiled. "Coming to dinner with us?"

He gave you a small smile back. "Think I'll pass tonight. Bit tired, and…" he paused. "Just want some quiet, you know?"

You studied his face. "You sure? Carlos specifically asked for you to come."

"I know, and tell him thanks," Oscar squeezed your hand. "But you guys should celebrate properly. I'm good, really. Just going to order room service and study the race data."

You pulled him into a hug. "You drove amazingly today. P8 from P17 is no joke."

"Thanks, sis," he hugged you back tight. "Go celebrate with your winner. Just... maybe not too loudly in the hotel? The walls are thin."

"OSCAR!"

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 376,528 others

ynpiastri MY LITTLE CHAMPION BITCH 🥲🥲 i’m SO proud of you mi amor, we all are. one more win this season showing everyone the talented driver that you are. the best is yet to come ❤️

also beyond proud of my baby brother as always, your determination and ability to push through every setback never ceases to amaze me. chin up, i know you got this

oh and lando got p2 i guess

GRACIAS MEXICO CITY 😩

view all comments

username1 AHHHH

username2 SIMP PIASTRI

username3 this is still wild to me they used to hate each other’s guts

scuderiaferarri ❤️

username4 this is wild bc she hated him when he won in australia 😭

nicolepiastri Congrats Carlos! Come visit and bring embarrassing stories of my daughter please

↳ ynpiastri MUM😩

↳ username1 she’s an icon

reyesvdec Te amamos ❤️

↳ username2 the sainz love her so much i could cry

username5 HELP THE LINE ABOUT LANDO 😭

oscarpiastri Love you sis. Congrats to Carlos ❤️

↳ carlossainz55 Thank you brother

↳ username2 this would send 2023 me into a coma

↳ username3 THIS PLOT TWIST

carlossainz55 Te amo

At the restaurant, Lando was the only driver who joined your celebration with the Sainz family. He fit right in, making everyone laugh with stories about Carlos.

"You know," Lando said, taking a sip of wine, "I used to be Reyes and Carlos Sr.'s favorite adopted son."

"Used to be?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, then you came along with your whole enemies-to-lovers storyline and stole my spot," he pouted dramatically. "Now I'm like the forgotten middle child."

"Ay, Lando," Reyes laughed, reaching over to pat his cheek. "You're still our favorite British son."

"Small comfort when YN gets all the good Spanish mom cooking," Lando grumbled good-naturedly.

After dinner, it was time for the party celebrating Carlos' win. He claimed that he didn't want to drink much, but that went out the window when his friends lifted him up as 'Smooth Operator' played.

"SMOOTH OPERATOOOOR!" they sang terribly off-key. Carlos was laughing, one hand clutching his drink, the other reaching for you.

"Join me up here, mi amor!"

"Absolutely not," you called back, but you were laughing too.

Hours later, the celebrations were winding down. You stood outside waiting for your car, Carlos' arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. The Mexico City air was cooler now, but his warmth kept you comfortable.

"I still can't believe it," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck. "Second win this season."

You turned in his arms to face him, taking in his slightly flushed cheeks and bright eyes. The victory high was still there, mixed with the pleasant buzz from the celebrations.

"You know what's different this time?" you asked, playing with the collar of his shirt.

"Hmm?"

"I don't have to pretend I'm not happy for you," you smiled, remembering Australia. "Don't have to hide how proud I am."

His eyes softened as he pulled you closer. "You were terrible at hiding it even then."

"I was not!"

"Mi amor," he laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "You called me 'little bitch' with way too much affection."

"That was pure hatred," you protested weakly.

"Sure it was," he grinned. "Just like when you stared at me during the podium ceremony."

"I was plotting your demise."

"With heart eyes?"

"Shut up," you buried your face in his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter.

"Never," he kissed the top of your head. "I love reminding you how bad you were at hating me."

"I'm starting to hate you again right now."

"No you're not," he tilted your chin up, eyes twinkling. "You love me."

Before you could retort, the car pulled up. As you settled into the backseat, Carlos pulled you close again.

"For the record," he whispered in your ear, "I was terrible at pretending too. Ask Charles - he said I talked about you constantly."

"To complain?"

"That's what I told myself," he smiled against your hair. "But I think everyone knew better."

You intertwined your fingers with his, watching the city lights blur past. "We were kind of idiots, weren't we?"

"The biggest," he agreed. "But we figured it out eventually."

"Yeah," you turned to kiss him softly. "We did."

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slytherinslut0 · 23 hours ago

Text

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 28th. theodore nott. lorenzo berkshire — humiliation / degradation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: never let enzo berkshire find out about one of your kinks. unless….

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, halloween ghostface costumes, threesome, fwb!theo, bestfriend!enzo, reader is involved in a bet unbeknownst to her, mask kink, humiliation on high, degradation, fingering, denied orgasm, oral m!rec, PIV, dirty talk, manipulation.

"Black cat mask?"

You shake your head, barely sparing the thing a glance.

"Mm, no. Too unoriginal."

"Right," Enzo sucks his teeth, tossing the mask back into the bin you're both half-heartedly rifling through. "Orange cat, then? That's far more fitting for you anyways."

"Enzo—no cats, please," you mutter, running a hand through your hair, staring down at the disheveled heap of plastic. None of it catches your eye, none of it sparks anything. "It's Halloween. I want something...scarier."

"Of course. Only day of the year you get to pretend you're as terrifying as me." He croons—half-laughing through the words. The tease itches in your mind, and you're halfway to some retort when he's already holding up another mask. "How about this one?"

You glance up, ready to dismiss whatever nonsense he's holding this time, but the sight of it stills the air in your lungs. A Ghostface mask. Stark white, hollow eyes staring back at you—it's grimace cast in a faded glow under tired shop lights. It's nothing—just a mask, just a piece of cheap plastic in Enzo’s hand—but your heart skips, stumbles, clutches at your ribs, and you can't look away.

And there's no goddamn reason for it, no logic—but you're already seeing it, aren't you? Your current fwb—Theo, standing over you; his face hidden, mask in place of those half-lidded eyes that you’ve learned to read so well. And you know—you know the thought is fucking absurd—yet, it knots something in your stomach, spreading heat like a fuse just lit.

"You alright there?" Enzo's teasing pulls you out of your thoughts, and you realize he'd been staring at you that entire time. "You're looking a little...hot."

Hot. Right. Of course he'd notice—of course your best friend would notice the way you went still, frozen in place as if someone struck you with Glacius. You're no good at lying to him, not even on a good day—and right now, your mind is in shambles, already too far gone into the fantasy and—

No. No more of this.

You tear away, fumbling for the edge of a cloak that suddenly seems like the most fascinating thing you've ever seen, your fingers tracing the fabric as if it can save you.

"It's...fine—it's nice," you blurt out, too quickly, too forced, the words tumbling over themselves. "Just—no, not really my thing."

But Enzo knows better. He can spot your lies from miles away. You hear him shift, the quiet rustle of the mask in his hands—and then, he's pulling it over his face, tilting his head just to spite you.

You don't have to look to know he's smirking behind it.

"Bullshit." He steps closer, casually closing the distance, but you know it's deliberate. "You're into this, aren't you?"

The warmth on your face feels like fire now, prickling heat across your skin. He shifts closer again, and for a moment you consider jinxing him—mind scattering into dark, unbidden places—filthy, wild things, flashing behind your eyes, too real. Enzo tilts his head the other way now, letting the mask catch the light, letting it grin.

"Should I get it?" He asks, as innocent as a serial killer. "For Nott, of course."

"No."

It scrapes out of your throat, barely audible, far too small to hold truth. You’re sure he can read you right now—all your depraved thoughts in the rasp of your voice, painfully transparent.

There’s a huff, a snort of sorts. "Are you sure? I think he'd love it."

Despite his insufferableness, he’s probably right. Theo has never shied away from indulging your kinks before. That’s what no strings is about. Maybe he would love it, you know you certainly would—gods how you’d love it—even if you’d rather die before admitting it.

The cloak—you focus on the deep purple velvet, the dark lace edging. "I'm sure. Put it back."

"You don't sound so sure." Gods, he's such an asshole—point only proved further as he takes another step closer. "Does this...does this turn you on?"

"Enzo—For Godric's sake, stop." The humiliation is suffocating. This is just a glimpse at your future should you ever decide to disclose this information to him. Relentless and bloody insufferable. "Let's just—pick something and go. Please?"

A pause, then, and you don't dare look up. The mask slips from his face with another soft, satisfied hum—you don't need to see him to feel the damage done. He knows.

"Sure, angel," he says, trailing as he turns. "Whatever you want."

————

"Matt—have you seen Theo?"

"Uh—not since earlier." Mattheo replies without even looking up, his focus on pouring another dangerous looking drink rather than on you. "He's probably just out for a smoke."

Yeah. Right. Forsure—because his smoke breaks last all bloody day. Doubt twists your stomach, but you nod anyway, grabbing your own drink—something bubbling, far too bright a green to be safe, but it burns down easy all the same. The room spins in a foggy haze, lights bleeding together over costumes, wizard and Muggle and something in between—and you struggle to tell who's who.

Theo had refused to tell you what he was dressing up as—claimed he wanted it to be a surprise. Now, that surprise is nowhere to be found.

"What are you supposed to be?" You raise a brow at Mattheo's striped inmate costume. “Your future?"

Riddle's eye flash as he pretends to be offended for about two seconds until his gaze drops to your own costume and his tongue darts over his lips, taking it in. Beer-maid, tight bodice, shorter than preferred. It's not what you were going for, not in the slightest, but it's all Pansy had in her closet to save you after you and Enzo failed to find anything interesting at the shop the other day.

"Maybe. But you definitely aren't dressed as yours." His attention shifts back to the crowd, a failed attempt at hiding his grin. "Way too much fabric."

You scoff, but that's just how Mattheo is—always a sly comment, always pushing. You roll your eyes and swat at him, but he sticks his tongue out at you and steps back, slipping off into the crowd with a final goodbye wink—and just as you lose track of him, Draco saddles up next to you, prattling on about something you don't care to listen to.

Great, that’s two annoying Slytherins accounted for. Where the fuck is Theo?

Five seconds into pretending to be interested in whatever Malfoy is babbling on about, you give up, turning back to the drink table and skimming over the options when someone new brushes up behind you—

"Enzo told me," the words barely register before you feel it—a hand settling low at your hip. "About your kink."

With lightening speed you twist your neck, glancing over your shoulder—only to fucking gasp at what you find there. That mask. The mask. The Ghostface one from the shop; the one Enzo hasn't let you forget, hasn't stopped teasing you about—you blink, your heart barrelling out of the room, fingers tightening around your cup until it hurts—

The mask tilts, just slightly. "Looks like he was right."

"Theo—"

"Go." His voice is muffled, but sweet Merlin—the sound of it makes your knees threaten to buckle right then and there. His hand slips lower, teasing against the ruffles of your dress. "Run, Bella. Let's play."

Your body locks up, muscles tense and poised on the edge of something feral. You can't look away. Can't think. Can't breathe. His fingers slip lower, lower, until you feel it—cold leather against the heat of your skin and your throat tightens, words dying dead on your tongue.

Run.

A slight lean, and the mask brushes your neck. "Now."

He steps back, a slow retreat, but it feels like he's tugging you with him. You spin to face him, smirking, your voice barely above a whisper—

"And when you catch me?"

"Find out." His head tilts toward the door. It's your cue.

Your feet move before your mind even catches up, slipping through the rowdy crowd, darting through the half-drunk revelers in their costumes—everything blurring into an afterthought as you push past the cobwebs, pumpkins, fake spiders, all the other Halloween decor filling the fogged ballroom. Your fingertips buzz from the adrenaline—pulse echoing in your ears as you dart down one hall after another, not quite sure where you're going, but knowing you need to keep moving.

Theo told you to run—so you run.

You sprint through the castle, the corridors empty save for your hurried footsteps and the scattered Halloween decorations lunging at you from the shadows. You round a corner, making for the dungeons. It's as good a place as any, right? Dark, quiet, somewhere to hide.

Few more minutes and you make it, lungs burning as you stumble into the dreary main hall. You realize the detention room is empty—and it's perfect. You take two steps inside, already thinking you'll be able to catch your breath when—

You slam headlong into something solid.

Head swirling, your vision barely refocuses before you feel a grip on your wrists, pulling you forward with enough force to make you gasp. Everything happens so fast you don't have enough time to process what's occurring before you're forced to focus on the thing you're seeing—ghostface. Staring down at you with those empty, gaping eyes. Unreadable.

It's then that you realize you're caught.

Something shifts behind the mask, an almost imperceptible movement of his head. You'd almost think you imagined it but given that there's nothing else to look at you know it's impossible. The silence is ballooning and you wonder if this is part of the game, if Theo is just savouring the moment, relishing in your reaction. The way you're trembling, your breath stuttering, the way you've gone still—waiting.

You swallow, throat drier than the Sahara, but something about this has you emboldened, the fact he's playing into your fantasy like this—so you decide to tease him, breaking the silence with a soft, breathless laugh as you pull one of your hands free from his grip.

He wanted to play. It's your turn to act the part.

"Looks like you caught me...Mr. Ghostface..." you purr—the silence sticks heavy, making the space between you feel thick, electric. All you can feel are his eyes devouring you. "And now...now that you've caught me...what are you gonna' do with me...hm?"

Gods—the thrill of this is so real, one your certain is more addictive than any drug. An adrenaline rush—not knowing what he's thinking, what he's about to do. Not being able to read him like you normally could. It makes your thighs quake—and there’s half a second where you wonder how much Enzo would pay to see this, how much he’d fucking taunt you for it.

But just as quickly as it came, you shake that thought—focused on Theo, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and sink to your knees, fingertips teasing from his chest to his abdomen, tilting your head to look up at him through your lashes.

"...please don't punish me." You giggle—and the debauched absurdity of it all makes you nearly choke. "I'll be so good—I'll do anything, Theo—"

You feel him huff, tense, and when your fingers graze the front of his pants—just barely touching his crotch— his hand snaps down like a vice, gripping your wrist, stopping you dead in your tracks.

And then, you hear it. "Salazar sakes—shit—"

Your heart plummets. That voice—it's like being thrown into ice-cold water. No, that's not—it can't be—

"Enzo?"

Your voice cracks as you all but screech, your head whipping up so fast you feel dizzy. No, no, no—

Enzo, who you previously thought was Theo, pulls the mask off and all but verbally confirms it. Your nightmare born to life. Spooling to fruition right in front of you. He smiles, lips curled into something thoroughly entertained, and gods, how his eyes glint with pure assholery—you could fucking kill him.

"Enzo—" you stammer, horror flushing through you, burning through the mortification lodged in your throat. "Gods—what the fuck—"

"Surprise," he breathes, like this is the most casual thing in the world to him.

You scramble back, knees scraping against cold stone—mind spiralling in every direction at once—shame collides with shock and it all burns under your skin, the kind of heat that never settles. You know Theo's voice. You could never mistake it. You know for a fact that was him back at the party— but this, this makes no sense.

"What...what the hell-" your voice stumbles like you're trying to outrun the words. "Why would you—what were you—"

"Relax," he is all too fucking calm. "It was a prank."

"A prank?" You're still on the floor, and for some reason that makes everything worse. "You call that a prank? A—a funny little joke?"

"That's usually the definition—"

"No." You hiss between clenched teeth, anger strangling any hope for composure. "What were you doing in here? This— this isn't—you were trying to-"

"Trying to what?" He sounds so goddamn innocent but you know better. He's toying with you, making sure you know it. He's been your best friend since you were kids but you never said it was by choice. He steps closer. "I was trying to what, angel?"

Your blood boils, the heat spreading fast—pooling low in your core against all specks of your sanity. He's relishing this, drinking in your mortification like it's fine wine—and for some reason, it makes you weak.

"You—" words die with another one of his steps, the toes of his shoes brushing against your skin as he crouches down in front of you, elbows resting casually on his knees. You sit back, ass meeting cold stone. "Enzo—"

"Yeah?" He cocks an eyebrow. "You just gonna' parrot my name all night? Maybe you're too embarrassed to speak?"

The constant mocking feels like ice and you want to slap that smug look right off his face but instead your fucking thighs tense. You have nothing to say—can only stare at him, lungs seizing further as you notice the smirk fading from his lips, something darker replacing it—

"You didn't even know who was under that mask, and you were ready to suck me off," he's whispering, but he may as well be screaming. "You'd do anything for anyone with a mask, huh? I wish I knew about this kink of yours sooner."

He leans in closer, his knees pushing yours apart—you and Enzo had never been strangers to toying the line of friendship one too many times while drunk, but this—

You blink. Staring at him. "You...you're enjoying this way too much."

"Guilty as charged." His smile spreads wider, cockier, his eyes dipping to your lips, then lower. You shiver involuntarily. "I know I should have stopped you sooner, but seeing you on your knees...in front of me...I just..."

He shakes his head before he slowly stands back up—and his eyes flicker to your chest, lingering on your fucking tits and not even trying to be subtle about it.

Then, there’s a sound—the sound of the door creaking open.

You barely hear it, the faint shuffle of footsteps, but it's enough to pull the grin from Enzo's face as he looks up. You're not sure your heart can handle anymore of this—plummeting to the stone beneath you as Theo steps into the room, dressed just like Enzo—black robes, black gloves, Ghostface mask.

"Nott." Enzo's voice is too casual, too easy. "Great timing, mate."

Theo’s silent as he takes in the scene. You—still on the floor, dress hitched up, legs spread. Enzo standing over you, smug, unbothered. Theo's presence fills the room as he shuts the door behind him and locks it, stoking your humiliation into something even hotter, something impossible to escape.

Theo's voice is flat, his tone too even. "Looks like you got caught."

Wait—

"You—" your gaze jumps between them, a wild panic bubbling up inside you. You're so fucking confused. "What is this? You two—"

"Like I said, a prank." Enzo says as he steps toward Theo, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "A bet, really.”

Theo doesn't respond. He doesn't move. He doesn't look away from you.

"A bet?" You choke out, trying to piece everything together. "What bet?"

"Well, you see, angel," Enzo pushes away from Theo and slumps down into a chair just off to the side of you. You feel the dread rolling in like a storm. "I bet big Theo here you'd get so weak in the knees over the mask, you wouldn't even notice the switch. As usual, I was right."

Andddd, there’s the dread. Yup. As expected whenever Enzo is fucking involved in anything.

"Oh, wow—" you'd laugh if you weren't this utterly mortified by the entire situation. "You guys are—gods. You’re going after a whole new high score in the prick olympics, aren't you—"

"Oh, I don't know if you believe that, topolina...I think you're just being shy." Theo cuts through your rambling and you flinch at the sound of his voice. "It's clear this is a fantasy of yours."

Your head tilts up, eyes widening as they meet the empty, hollow eyes of the mask drawing closer.

"I bet you're just embarrassed," Theo's pressing—he's fucking pressing and you don’t think you’ve breathed since he walked in. "Embarrassed that you got on your knees for your best friend...or maybe you're afraid I'd be mad." He pauses, and his gaze sweeps down over you. "Which, to that I'd have to say, I'm far from."

You swallow hard, your mouth dry. "You're...you're not mad?"

Perhaps you were afraid of that—even if you and Theo are unofficial in every aspect.

His answer is instant. "No."

He crouches in front of you, gloved fingers finding your chin, tipping your head up so he can look at you— really look at you.

"In fact...I think you should let him watch..." his thumb ghosts over your lower lip, so soft, so slow—without thinking, your tongue flicks out, barely grazing the leather covered tip, and you hear the soft exhale he releases in response. "After all, this was his idea. He deserves some fun too, don't you think?"

Heat floods your cunt, your stomach tightening at the suggestion. You glance at Enzo, sitting back now with his mask on—legs spread wide, leather hands clasped, calm—you wanted to kill him five minutes ago, but now—

Oh gods—you're really losing it.

"Yeah," you whisper, barely managing the word. "He probably does."

Theo's hand slides down to your thigh, leather fingers curling into the soft skin, pulling your legs open further.

"Mhm." He mutters. "You like being watched, don't you?"

Your breath catches, your pulse thundering in your ears as you nod, your eyes glued to Enzo. "Yes..."

"Say it." His fingers trail higher, teasing the soft skin beneath your dress, fingertips grazing closer—too close—just below the lace hem of your panties.

Salazar save you.

You bite your lip, and the air between you feels like it's thickening, growing too dense to breathe in. That fucking mask. You've fantasized over it. And now, there's two of them. Two sets of eyes—faceless, emotionless, and watching you. It's like something out of your fucking dreams.

"I—I like being watched," you manage to whisper, voice breaking between building lust.

"Louder," Theo growls this time like he's pulling it from somewhere deep in his chest—it sends liquid heat spilling through you. "Louder, topolina. He can't hear you if you're whispering."

Your heart stutters in your chest, and Enzo—gods, Enzo is still watching—stays silent, the mask concealing whatever reaction he might have, but his posture speaks volumes. Stillness, dark fabric of his trousers tight across his thighs, a coiled tension that radiates off him, permeates the space between you.

"I—fuck—" a breathless moan cracks through your words as Theo's leather-clad fingers slip under your panties, grazing your slick slit. "—love it. I love being watched."

Theo hums, the sound vibrating low in his throat, and rewards you by pushing two fingers into your dripping heat. So slow, the pace of his strokes torturous—slick sounds of leather working you open filling the room, mingling with your quiet, shuddering breaths. His thumb brushes your clit, teasing over it until you moan—hard and shameless—

"So loud," Theo mocks, your spine arching into him as his fingers curl inside you. "Eager, filthy little thing. You love being on display, don't you?"

A whimper catches in your throat, your gaze still locked on Enzo, watching him watch you.

You're shaking. You're close. Too close.

Your voice cracks again, nothing more than a whisper caught in a moan. "Theo...fuck—"

"You're so wet, bellissima," Theo breathes behind the mask. You're burning, every nerve sizzling. "You want to cum, don't you?"

You can't speak. Words don't exist anymore, only the pressure—only the way Theo's fingers curl inside you, the way your thighs tremble and ache from holding yourself open, from being watched, from being this goddamn humiliated.

"Y-yes," you choke out, desperate. "Yes, please, I—"

"Ask him." Theo's cuts you off. "Ask Enzo to let you cum."

The room spins. The air thickens into something cloying.

Ask him. Ask Enzo—

You swallow hard, your eyes darting between the two masks. Enzo is silent, still motionless, but he tilts his head slightly, the only indication that he's heard. That he's waiting.

"Please, Enzo—" the humiliation is sickening but you force past it. It’s a broken prayer, vulnerability in verbal form. "Please...let me cum—please—"

Time stretches. It feels like hours, an eternity where nothing exists but the weight of their hidden eyes on you, the way Enzo's fingers twitch, curl over the thick ridge at his crotch, leather knuckles tensing as if he's restraining himself from something primal. You're being devoured whole by this moment—by the unbearable tension, by Theo's fingers inside you, relentless in their assault, and gods—you're going to die if they don't let you—

"Yeah," Enzo finally murmurs, breaking the silence. Theo's gaze flickers to him, waiting. "Yeah, you can cum, angel…”

But as he says it, he shakes his head, and Theo—the absolute bastard—pulls his fingers out without a word.

"…just not yet." Enzo finishes.

The sound that leaves your throat isn't even human, some guttural, helpless whine torn straight from your throbbing, empty cunt. Theo shushes you.

"You'll get to cum, Bella," he coos, standing up slowly. "It'll be soon."

They're toying with you, playing you like a goddamn puppet on strings and it's infuriating in its deliciousness. You've known these men for years, yet it's almost laughable—the way they feel so foreign, so terrifyingly new.

"Oh, Enzo," you sigh, feeling your arousal cool, your body suddenly aware of the icy stone beneath you, of the wet heat slicking down your thighs. "I'm going to kill you tomorrow."

Enzo snorts. "You're welcome to try."

Theo exhales a half-chuckle, helping you off the floor and onto a desk, his hands firm on your thighs as he spreads you open like he's done a hundred times within the last few months.

A moment passes before he moves to loosen his belt and you realize just how close Enzo is now—his chair right beside the desk, his hand palming the bulge in his pants, shameless in his observation. The sight makes you fucking dizzy with filth. Surely, you've lost your mind. This is madness. Every line between friendship and lust—between restraint and indulgence—has blurred and bled into something you can't define, and the thrill of it is intoxicating.

"This is insane," you hiss, breathless, feeling the way Theo's gloves scrape over your skin, two thick digits dragging in your slick. "You're both fucking insane."

"Too much talking," Theo mutters, so infuriatingly calm, even as he drags the head of his dick over your folds, teasing your clit. "So much attitude for someone dripping down their thighs. You want to stop?" The silence stretches, your eyes locked on his, and you can feel the smirk behind the mask. He nods. "That's what I thought. Now shut up and let me fuck this wet cunt."

His hands grip either side of the desk, his body looming over you—the scene from your fantasy you've envisioned a million times. Ghostface—dominant and rough—gods, you want it. So bad it fucking hurts.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes immediately finding Enzo's again—forgetting for half a second that he was even there. His jeans are unbuttoned now, his hand moving rhythmically beneath the denim, mask locked onto you with a single-minded focus that makes your breath stutter.

"Enz-ohhh—" you go to say something to him, but then Theo pushes into you—no warning, no slow build—just a deep, unforgiving thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs, and your voice cracks on his name, the syllables lost in the moan that spills out of you.

"Shit." Enzo groans in response. "Did you just—"

"She did," Theo snarls, his grip on your hips punishing as he slams into you again, harder this time. "The little slut just moaned your name."

There's cursing, from both of them, but it's all a blur in your ears, drowned out by the sound of Theo's hips slamming into yours, the fevered slap of skin on skin, the obscene sounds you can't help but make—

"Yeah, I noticed," Enzo mutters, and fuck, he sounds ruined, completely lost in the sight of you—his best friend, getting fucked by his other best friend. "Fuck."

Theo's hand finds your jaw, forcing your head back to face him, Ghostface mask looming above you like a delicious nightmare.

"Who's fucking you?" His voice is caught somewhere between a snarl and a purr. "Is it Enzo?"

"N-no—" you manage, trembling with every thrust.

"Of course it's not," Theo hisses, driving into you with punctual thrusts to make you feel him, making you cry out when he slams your cervix. "So why'd you moan his name? When it's—fuck—my cock inside you?"

"I—I didn't mean—" you whimper, eyes squeezed shut, but there's no escape. Not from the relentless pace of Theo's dick, not from the way Enzo's eyes never leave you, burning into you like fire. You can't form words.

"Mm—don't be shy now, topolina," Theo purrs, his voice thick with effort. His hips snap forward, and your back arches, a broken sound escaping you. "I think you just love having him in your mouth—his name, his—"

"Fuck, Nott, shut up," Enzo cuts in, his head thrown back, chest tense. "I don't want to hear your voice—"

You can hear the strain, the way he's barely holding it together—

"Look at him," Theo ignores Enzo's words. He lets go of your jaw. "He wants you. He's always wanted you."

Your eyes dart between them, head spinning, unable to form a coherent thought—Theo's fucking relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge—and every time you glance at Enzo, you see the way he's breaking, hand moving faster, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths—

"I never knew you were such a voyeur, Nott," Enzo spits, trying to sound casual. "Never took you for being such a filthy bastard."

"What can I say?" Theo groans in response, propping your legs up over his shoulders to drive into you deeper. "Just discovered a new interest, you should try it sometime."

They're still bantering, like this is some kind of fucked-up competition, like you're not about to shatter into a million fucking pieces while your best friend watches—after he got you here and humiliated you with a fucking bet—gods, you'd laugh if you weren't so utterly lost to the pleasure ripping through you.

"And watch you get off on it?" Enzo spits back, voice rough. "I'll—"

Theo snorts, cutting him off. "I think there's more than one person getting off on—"

"Shut the-fffuck up—please-" you manage to moan, the words barely intelligible. You look to Enzo, eyes wide and pleading. "Enz...come here."

"Yeah...?" Enzo breathes out, his voice catching, tipping his head back forward to look at you. “What?”

"Come here," you moan again, trembling, fraying under the pleasure that's building inside you from Theo’s insistent dick. "Let me help you."

For a moment, he hesitates, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking because the goddamn mask hides everything. He's always been the calm one between you—always stopping your drunk kisses, always refraining from taking things too far. But tonight, there’s no more of that calm left in him—

He stands.

Each step he takes feels like a lifetime, but when he's standing next to your head on the desk, towering above where you're laid out like a feast, you don't know whether it's the mask or the situation itself that has your pulse racing. Erotic and terrifying, the not-knowing—a power exchange in its purest form. Theo growls infront of you, his thrusts growing harder, more vicious, as you reach out to pull Enzo's hips closer.

You're already eyeing the throbbing bulge in his jeans, your mouth practically watering as you stare.

"Go on," you rasp, lips parting as you look up through your lashes. "Take it out."

The breath Enzo sucks in is sharp, a hitch in the darkness. His fingers tremble, just barely, as he pushes his pants down his thighs, and the noise that escapes him when his cock slips out and smacks his stomach—low, strangled—makes you moan and clench in response—he's huge.

Your breath catches, a soft exhale of, "oh, fuck."

And the words are barely out of your mouth before both Theo and Enzo respond—low growls and breathless groans that echo in the shadowed room, vibrating through you like electricity.

"Open your pretty mouth," Enzo whispers and you obey without hesitation, tongue slipping out, wanting, eager. His breath shudders, and you wish you could see his eyes. "Good girl."

And then he's pushing into you, sliding hot and thick over your tongue, and at that exact moment, Theo thrusts harder, deeper, and suddenly you're overwhelmed—both of them inside you, filling you, consuming every breath. Moans ripple through the dungeon air, a chorus of sin, and you shake with the sheer intensity of it all.

Theo's thumb finds your clit, starts swirling over it, and you keen—eyes rolling back in your head, Enzo’s leather hands in your hair to hold you still. Tears stream down your face as you gag, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but neither of them stop—if anything, they're both lost in it, in the wrecked, messy beauty of it all. Your hands claw at the desk, desperate for something to hold on to as the pleasure builds, tightens, spirals out of control.

Time collapses. It's been moments—it's been hours.

And then it happens—all three of you tipping over the edge at once, crashing into a release so fierce it shatters you. Your climax rips through you, violent, leaving you shaking, milking Theo until he's spent—until he's pouring his cum deep inside your cunt at the same time Enzo groans deep and spills his own over your tongue. A moment passes, and then Theo is the first to pull away, panting, tearing off his mask and dropping into the chair beside the desk, and Enzo follows, tugging his jeans back up before slumping into another chair, mask still on—

Both of them are sprawled there, utterly spent, just as wrecked as you.

And then, after a few long, tense moments, you hear it—the clink of Galleons exchanged. You don't even need to look up for it to register. Theo tosses the coins into Enzo’s greedy palm because he was the true fucking winner here. The sound cuts through the stillness, and with it, that smug, unmistakable sneer in Enzo's voice.

"Told you she'd love it."

Asshole.

You roll your eyes. Your limbs feel like they're moving through molasses as you stand, your hands mechanically fixing your costume, adjusting the fabric against your thighs.

"You know, Enzo, if you wanted to watch Theo fuck me that bad, all you had to do was ask."

"What can I say," he shrugs, lazy, like he's discussing the weather. "I enjoy a bit of gambling."

Theo snorts, adjusting his collar, as if none of this fazes him. His eyes flick from you to Enzo. "Next time you'll be paying me."

"Next time?" You cock an eyebrow. "How generous of you."

"There will be a next time," Enzo says, flipping one of the Galleons between his fingers, that same smirk playing on his lips. "And I'll get my turn."

Your pulse quickens at the sheer arrogance of it, the way he says it like it's not even up for debate. You hate how much you like this side of him.

"Maybe next time you should."

They nod, both of them wearing their smirks like crowns. "Until next time, then."

435 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 2 days ago

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seventeen reaction to you calling them unemployed when they ask you to talk dirty to them

WARNINGS: pure crack, i luv this brazilian joke btw

seungcheol: “call me something dirty babe” he growls, “okay, unemployed.” bro stops mid-thrust “what the—i work so hard!” and he’s genuinely sulking about it the rest of the night, muttering, “unemployed? seriously?”

jeonghan: “say something nasty to me,” he purrs, smirking because he thinks he’s got this in the bag. you deadpan: “unemployed.” “unemployed? you did not just go there—i’m on the grind!” and suddenly he’s in a full TED Talk defending his work ethic.

joshua: he blinks, utterly scandalized. “but—i have a job!” he squeaks, sitting up making it all look like a sit com, like he needs to show you his resume or something.

junhui: bursts out laughing so hard he falls off the bed, wiping tears from his eyes, wheezing, “unemployed? oh my god—i wasn’t ready. never had my career insulted before,”

hoshi: “hey! i work very hard, you know!” and spends the next ten minutes rambling about how busy he is, totally breaking the mood.

woozi: he just stares, deadpan, for a solid five seconds. “…did you just call me unemployed?” he’s too stunned to even be offended, wondering if he heard you right. when he realizes you did, he laughs, shaking his head, saying, “you’re lucky i like you enough to let that slide.”

wonwoo: bro gets soft so fast that nothing will make him hard again this night. stares at you, like, excuse me? he was expecting something a little dirtier, not a career counseling session. then he starts laughing, trying to act mad but totally failing.

minghao: he squints, looks at you like he’s analyzing this insult on a philosophical level, then goes, “... hey! did you know that the capitalism—”

mingyu: “what?! i work out every day!” he insists, as if that’s somehow related, suddenly very invested in proving himself to you.

seokmin: his jaw drops, and he looks insulted, like you just ruined his day. “unemployed?! i’m in a band! i sing! i work so hard!” he’s practically listing out his schedule to defend himself as he pouts.

seungkwan: gives you a scandalized look. “UNEMPLOYED?! do you know how much i work, huh? the hours i put in taking care of those idiots??” laughing too hard to keep it up.

vernon: he side eyes you even though you're in front of him. processing it, like—ih his ear blocked or sum?, then just starts laughing, like, “ya! just because i don't know how to use powerpoint?.” shakes his head like he can’t believe you’d pull that on him, but he probably falls in love harder.

chan: bro is so confused you can her his brain frying, looking at you like, “but i work, though? i’m in a group??” ends up cracking as your mouth twitches up.

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shrimpybbq · 3 days ago

Text

a missed moment

synopsis: Rafe misses the moment Charlie takes his first steps and is harsh on himself as always.

Charlie was the light of Rafe’s life: anything his son did made him so proud. Every little smile, giggle or ‘dada’ made Rafe grin so widely someone would think he had been possessed. But he wasn’t possessed, instead just so incredibly proud to have his sweet little boy happy and healthy and growing. The love he felt for his son wasn’t something Rafe had ever pictured or believed in, not considering his own father, but now that he had felt it, he never wished to let it go. Rafe did his best to be there for all his son’s milestones, even taking embarrassing photos for when he was older, but it was the one he missed that sent him into a spiral.

Rafe had been spending the day out in Guadeloupe, doing his best to sort out the shit for his dad and spending hours feeling his stress levels rising to a boiling point. All he wanted was to rest in his bed, relax and spend time with his family, and yet he was walking around the island talking about dividends and shares. He wasn’t pleased. Rafe walked through the front door, feeling the tension seep from his body, ready to lie down, only to see his son standing upright, little Charlie’s chunky arms clinging to the side of their couch.

Rafe’s eyes bulged as he watched Charlie turn to him, a large smile overtaking his identical features, the boy letting go of the couch as he took small steps towards his father.

Fuck. He was walking. Walking. He hadn’t been able to do that yesterday.

His girlfriend sat near Charlie, her soft voice encouraging him to ‘keep going to dada’. She gave small claps of encouragement as he moved closer, cheering him on.

Rafe felt his heart squeeze tightly in his chest as his son began to reach his small, chubby arms out to his father, and he could only pick him up, encapsulating the small boy within his own larger arms.

"Good job, buddy," was all Rafe managed to utter, his mind racing at the new development. He turned to his girlfriend, asking quietly "When did he start walking?".

"He started trying yesterday, but this morning he tried to follow you out of the house," his girlfriend responded softly. It was clear to see how Rafe was feeling, him not even bothering to hide the sadness spreading across his features. Rafe had been trying to get Charlie to walk for weeks as his little body grew stronger, but to no avail. And now, he had missed it.

"I should've been here..." Rafe mumbled lowly, "not fucking around doing this shit for my dad." Charlie began to play with the collar on his father's shirt, not sensing the sullen mood of his father. His mother shuffled over towards him, softly stroking his hair as he rested his head against his father's chest. Rafe looked down at his girlfriend before averting his eyes - he felt like she could always see right through him.

"Hey - don't do that. You were doing that to make sure we're going to be safe and looked after. You said that yourself, so don't feel bad about this, ok? This is just one milestone in his life, and he is going to have so many more. You were there when he stood for the first time, and when he said his first word," his girlfriend reassured, her arms now wrapping around Rafe's waist. He let himself embrace her, Charlie joining the hug too.

"I-I know, but what if he remembers this shit and he hat-," Rafe began, only to be quickly cut off.

"Rafe, he's one. He's not going to remember any of this. All he knows is that his parent's love him more than anything, ok?"

Rafe remained tense for a moment longer, before a heaving exhale left his chest. With that, he resolved to let his worries go - his girlfriend was right. He knew his mind was confounding his worries, for he only wanted his son to know he loved him. Rafe never wanted Charlie to question his love for him. Caught up in his thoughts, Rafe didn't notice his girlfriend pulling away from him, her voice redirecting his attention suddenly.

"I need to get his dinner ready. Can you stay with him?"

The blonde nodded, receiving a quick peck on the lips in acknowledgement, before his attention turned to Charlie - his expression brightening as he looked down at his son. "We're gonna practice walking again, aren't we buddy?" he proclaimed, walking them over to the rug again. Rafe watched as his girlfriend laughed as she left the room, her disembodied voice telling them to have fun. Whilst she prepared his dinner, all she could hear were the giggles of a small child and the encouraging statements leaving Rafe. He became a whole new person when he was with his son, and the cheer he let out when Charlie managed to walk towards him again only made the young mother smile to herself, her heart swelling with happiness at the small family the pair had created.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron headcanons #high school gf! au #rafe x oc #rafe imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe x you #dad!rafe au #dad!rafe

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electrosuite · 2 days ago

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could you maybe do a fic where eddie is your dealer and you go to him and ask him to take your virginity and it turns out he's been fantasizing about fucking you since the day you met

warnings: swearing, drugs (marijuana), dirty talk, oral sex, descriptive sex

word count: 2.7k

masterlist

You knocked against the door to Eddie's house, nervously sighing and crossing your arms. It took a moment, but the door opened to reveal a very sleepy looking Eddie.

You immediately felt guilty, relaxing your posture a bit.

"Shit, sorry. Did I wake you up?"

"It's fine. Everything okay? You pounded the shit out of the door."

You nodded. "I don't know. I just..." You were trying to think of a reasonable excuse for waking him up, but the best you could come up with was, "How much do you have?"

"Uhh..." He thought for a moment. "I'm down to my last ounce. I need to get more."

"Great. I'll take it."

"What, all of it?"

"Yeah." He looked at you like you were crazy. "What?"

"You never get more than an eighth."

"Well, I am today."

He was still a bit confused, but he moved out of the way and allowed you to step inside. You walked over to the couch and sat. He didn't take his eyes off of you until he got into his room, wondering what had you so upset.

When he brought his supply out, he laid it on the coffee table with enough rolling papers to make joints out of every last speck. This was what he always did for you. He rolled the joints before you even left because you struggled every time you tried.

The two of you were silent while he rolled the first one, then handed it to you. You pulled a lighter out of your pocket and lit it, that first inhale feeling better to your lungs than oxygen.

As he began rolling the second joint, he spoke up.

"So, what's up?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seem off. Is everything okay?"

You rubbed your eyes with your fingers, propping your elbow on your knee.

After a moment, you replied, "Do you think it's weird not to date in high school?"

He looked up at you. "Are you really asking me that question?"

"I mean do you think it's weird if a girl hasn't dated in high school?"

"Is there a difference?"

"You know there is. People treat it differently."

"Do you care what people think?"

"Of course I do. But that's not what this is about."

"Are you afraid you're weird for not dating?"

"I don't know. I mean, almost everyone I know is, and sometimes i just wonder if I'm... doing something wrong."

"What do you mean, 'doing something wrong'?"

"I don't know how to explain it. Like, if I'm doing something that makes me unattractive, or-"

"Trust me, you're not."

"You don't think so?"

"No," he chuckled. "Absolutely not."

You took note of his comments, noticing his reaction to you suggesting you're unattractive. You didn't say anything for a moment, just watched him roll joint after joint.

You stood up slowly and began pacing in the pathway between the couch and coffee table, shoving your hands in your pockets.

When he got to the last joint, you turned to him and sighed.

"Look, I didn't come here for weed," you blurted.

"What do you mean?"

"I came here..." You could feel your heart pounding. "I came here to ask if you'd be interested in... taking my virginity."

His hand movements froze, his eyebrows raised, and his eyes drifted up to look at you.

"What?"

"I've been thinking. A lot. I'm so close to graduating as a virgin, and I don't want that. I want to lose it before I graduate, and the person I'd want to do it with most is you. I trust you."

He laid the joint in his hands down and got to his feet, walking to the kitchen and washing his hands, taking his time. You followed him, continuing to ramble.

"You know, like I said, every one of my friends are in relationships, and I'm fine with not dating. But none of them are virgins, and I'm the only one." Eddie turned the water off and grabbed a rag to dry his hands. "I'm just worried that if I don't lose it now, then I won't lose it for a while. And I don't really want to be a virgin anymore."

He turned to you and grabbed your face, pulling you in and planting his lips against yours. It caught you off guard but you immediately kissed back.

It was a gentle yet assertive kiss, one with longing behind it. It felt so natural, like your lips were made for each other. You immediately gripped his sides and let out a soft whimper into his mouth.

His hands slid down the backs of your thighs and he picked you up, carrying you into his room and kicking the door closed behind him. He tenderly dropped you down sideways onto his bed, your head hanging off the edge a bit.

He kept kissing you, his hips between your thighs. He was much more dominant than you expected him to be, as if a switch flipped in his head the second he started thinking about sex.

You reached down and pulled his shirt over his head, looking down at his body. He was beautiful, and you pulled him back down to kiss you. But he broke it a moment later to undress you, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

He stopped, looking down at your body with his mouth slightly agape.

"What?" you asked, beginning to get nervous from his reaction. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just... weird."

"What is?"

"You're my client. I'm your dealer. It's just not something I thought would happen."

"If you don't wanna do this-"

"Woah, I didn't say that." His hands began traveling up your thighs. "I've wanted to for... I don't even know how long." His fingers slipped under your panties, pulling them off of you slowly. "I've wanted you for so long." He watched your face as his digits found your clit. A small whine left your mouth as your eyebrows turned upwards, your head falling back off the mattress.

He didn't take his eyes off your face, and he felt his pants grow tighter. Watching you squirm under him, it was a dream come true.

He was going so, so slow, and all you wanted was for him to speed up. But he didn't, instead loving the idea of teasing you. Making you writhe under him, demanding more.

So he decided to remove his fingers and crawl off the bed, kneeling on the floor. He grabbed you by the thighs and pulled you close, your hips hanging off the mattress slightly.

And the feeling of his warm, wet tongue on your soaked pussy drove you insane. You moaned much louder than you meant to, but you couldn't help it. He apparently knew exactly what he was doing, because this felt magical.

You couldn't physically hold your hips still, so he pressed down firmly on your hips. And when you couldn't move, forced to stay still, it almost made it more pleasurable.

You didn't know what to do with your hands, so they latched onto his hair, pulling tightly. So tightly, in fact, that he groaned. And his voice against your body felt like vibrating. This made you gasp, immediately feeling your orgasm approaching.

"Fuck, Eddie."

He knew you were close just by the sounds you were making. They were needy, desperate. And it was all he could think about. He'd always wondered what you sounded like when you came. The sweet sounds that would fill the room. And the fact that your first orgasm from someone else would be with him... It was almost too much for him to handle.

He needed to make you cum - hard. He was determined to make it as mind-blowing as humanly possible, to wear you out just from his tongue.

So when your hips bucked uncontrollably and you fisted his hair even harder, he knew you were finally there. You couldn't hold in the scream, the original plan of trying to be quiet going out the window. And he kept it going, refusing to let up.

Normally when it was just you, you only came for a few seconds because it was all you could handle. But a few seconds was gone, and he could tell he succeeded in making this intense.

And when your orgasm began to end on its own, he finally slowed down, easing you out of it. But he still didn't completely stop. In fact, the sounds you made got him desperate to hear them again, deciding then and there that he could postpone his own pleasure for the sake of watching you squirm under his mouth again.

So when he picked back up on the speed, it didn't take long to get you there again, maybe twenty seconds.

And during all of that, he never closed his eyes or looked away from you, not even for a second. He needed to watch how good he made you feel, how good your first time was.

When you physically pushed him away, he realized that you'd had enough. And when you pulled him back up to you, he was like a puma pouncing on his prey. You reached under you and unhooked your bra, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

"God, you're even more beautiful than I imagined."

His lips latched onto your breasts, cupping them in his hands. You reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, causing him to sit up on his knees. He watched your hands undo his pants, taking the opportunity to get up and pull them all the way off.

As he stood there, fully nude, you bit your lip at the sight. He looked so good, and he was rock hard. He dug through his nightstand and pulled out a condom, tearing it open with his teeth and sliding it down his length.

You knew he was going to be a lot to take, but if he was as good at sex as he was at oral, you were in for a good time.

When he crawled back on top of you, his hips settled against yours and he kissed your neck. Your hands found themselves against his ribs, fingertips pressed into his skin.

After a moment, he looked at you, making eye contact.

"You're sure about this?" he whispered.

"Are you really asking me that now?"

"I need you to answer me."

You reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear with your right hand.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life, Eddie." You spoke softly, seductively. You pulled his face down so you could whisper into his ear. "I want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight."

He took in a tiny gasp at this, dirty talk not something he expected from you. You'd always been, for lack of a better word, pretty innocent. But he'd been surprised before, finding the most innocent girls to be freaks in bed.

"For your first time?"

You just nodded. "For every time."

And with that, he was kissing you again. He reached down to line himself up to your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You whined into his mouth and he smiled, the sound like music to his ears.

Once he was fully nestled into you, he also let out a moan. He didn't move at first though, allowing you time to adjust.

"That okay?"

"Oh god, you feel so good, Eddie."

He let out a satisfied sigh. "Good. Tell me if you want to stop at any point, alright?"

"I won't want to."

"Hey, I mean it. If it gets too much, or you change your mind at any point, make me stop. Okay?"

You nodded, smiling at him. "You're so sweet."

He kissed you again, beginning to move his hips. He started with slow, gentle thrusts to let you get used to him. But eventually, he couldn't resist picking up the pace.

You did ask for it rough, after all.

So he gave you what you asked for. He attacked your neck and collarbones with kisses, leaving sloppy spit marks all over your skin. The two of you were moaning and groaning in sync, the bed squeaking almost as loud.

He couldn't keep his lips off of you, sucking your skin hard and kissing you so deeply that your teeth were touching a few times.

He was trying to stay quiet so he could listen to your moans, but he couldn't hold them back. You felt incredible, like a warm wet hug. Like your body was made for him and only him. He fit perfectly inside of you, be it a bit snug.

He fisted the sheets under him and at this point he was going much quicker than he thought he could, which was almost overwhelming for you.

But it was just right. It was perfect.

So you frowned a little bit when he pulled out of you.

"Roll on your stomach," he commanded. You did, and he pulled a pillow over for you to lay your head on. He bent your left leg and when he was back into position, he held it in place with his knee. Your other leg was straight under him, your foot hanging off the bed.

You felt his hands on your lower back, his palms right on top of the dimples above your ass cheeks. He slid back into you, and this position felt even better.

"That okay?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," was all you could get out, so he kept going. Him holding your body down and slamming into you was a sensation you'd never experienced, it was nearly impossible to explain. All you could do was grip the pillow under your head.

He leaned down and kissed between your shoulder blades, leaving prints of his lips with his saliva.

"Goddamn, you feel good," he grunted, his fingers digging into your skin. He couldn't take his eyes off your back, littered with freckles. Your hair cascaded over your skin and in your face, and he noticed how perfectly beautiful you looked right now. Face buried in his pillow, ass jiggling with every thrust.

Fuck, he might be in love.

But the cherry on top was when you moaned his name. Your voice, the tone, the neediness, the desperation. He knew he was going to bust at any second, which was a first for him. Normally he lasted a while, but something about you was different. Maybe it was just how long he'd fantasized about this, how he was far more attracted to you than any other girl he'd slept with, he wasn't sure.

But you did something nobody else could do, which was gotten him there in less than five minutes.

And he decided he wanted to look into your eyes when he came.

So he pulled out of you quickly and rolled you back over, your head still on the pillow. He immediately slammed back into you and held your face with one hand as he kissed you, his other hand next to your shoulder to keep himself up.

"Y/N," he breathed.

"Hm?"

"I've never been so close so quickly before. I'm gonna cum."

"Good."

The hand he used to hold you still moved down to finger you, and you gasped into the kiss. He looked at you when you threw your head back, moving his lips to your jaw and neck again but still looking at your face, wanting to hear you.

And, like something out of a movie, both of you went over the edge simultaneously. It was intense, cumming while being fucked. You'd never experienced this, and it felt like you were going to melt right into the bed.

He kept going for as long as he could, but eventually he had to stop. You laid there panting, his face against your chest and your hands on his sides.

"Holy fuck," you said after a moment. He chuckled, shaking you and the bed under him.

"Yeah. Holy fuck." You lifted his head and kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. "You okay?"

"I'm amazing."

"You really are."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Making my first time memorable."

"I should thank you, too."

"Me? Why?"

"I think that was the best sex I've ever had."

"No shit."

"Shit."

"Well, damn. You're welcome, then."

"You said something about... Every time earlier?"

"You're still inside of me and you're already thinking about doing it again?"

"What, you're not?"

You chuckled, noticing how hot and sweaty both of you were. It was kind of gross, but you didn't care in the moment.

And you knew he made your request come true. You were not going to be able to walk properly for a little while.

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starboye · 2 days ago

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imagine fratboy!rafe seeing innocent!reader one day while out buying some beer for a party he has tonight and instantly wants to hit that, your ass looking amazing in those jeans making him pop a boner in his kakhi shorts that he tries to hide all the way back to his truck, but he just can't stop thinking about you and your ass all the way back to the frat house

all the way to the night you're in his mind until he sees you out the corner of his eye in some what seems to be your friend group looking like you wanna disassociate from the loud music and grinding bodies of everyone else, so taking this chance he pulls you away and introduces himself

the whole time he's dropping hints he wants to fuck and you just don't get them and at this point he's to hard to even care about whatever little hobby you're talking about, abruptly interrupting you to say you both should go to his room where it's a little more quiet and you agree without a second thought seeing as the music is really getting on your nerves

once to his pretty big room he's dropping even more hints of what he wants to do, he's rubbing up your thigh and his touches are lingering a little to much but to his dismay you still don't get the hint, seems like he would have to work hard for that fat ass

#fratboy!rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #gay smut #x male smut #x male #gay #male reader #bottom male reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n

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osamucide · 3 days ago

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FLAVOR PROFILE—gn+afab!reader, references to pregnancy but nothing super intense+nothing gendered, oral sex (m!receiving), breeding, creampie, cum play, soft domestic Chuuya, Chuuya with baby fever, rough sex, dirty talk, teasing, nicknames (babydoll, baby, pretty, daddy in the sense of the breeding kink)

ABV—3.3k

tags, with love—@chuuminn @thewickedjazzy

He's holding his breath.

He doesn't realize it until you look to him, your eyes filled with laughter as the baby on the hip of the woman next to you reaches again for your hair.

I don't mind, you'd insisted with a smile when the mother apologized sheepishly over her shoulder for her handsy, outgoing child—you really don't, and the restaurant lobby is rather packed, after all. It isn't somewhere Chuuya would usually take you out (he'd rather bring you somewhere more upscale and less public) but this is one of your favorite places, and when you'd suggested it for date night this month, he couldn't help but agree after seeing how excited you got to show it to him.

And now he's exhaling, subtly as he can, as you turn back to the baby, untangling its little grasp from your hair and offering up your fingers instead; a tiny hand wraps entirely around your index finger, and when your face lights up with a grin and you coo, the baby mirrors you, giggling in that way that babies do—all teeth, squinted eyes, and pink, chubby cheeks. The opposite tiny hand swats at you, which you laugh through but direct a quiet, hey, play nice to, and now that Chuuya relaxes his shoulders, he's able to feel his face go red not from lack of oxygen but from how unbelievably fucking adorable the scene playing out in front of him is.

He doesn't stop thinking about it, even after you and the baby have waved a regretful and playful goodbye as you made your way to your table—one in a more secluded corner, much to his relief. Or, maybe, much to his disadvantage. There are images playing through his mind like a movie—you with an infant on your hip, cradled in your arms; it sports a pop of bright ginger hair on its soft little head, and you kiss it with such care. You, spoon-feeding a baby, you dancing with its tiny feet on top of yours, you lighting up at its first intelligable words. Its auburn tuft gets longer. Maybe it's a boy. Chuuya's son. In a span of seconds, the boy child's early years flash before him—reading with him sleepy and cuddled between you, pitting him against one another in comical prank wars, opening his birthday presents, walking him to school, gently washing his locks that he got from his father.

Yes, he's fucked for tonight.

Once you're both seated—he pulls your chair out for you like the textbook gentleman he is, though his mind swims—you tilt your head on your hands and raise an eyebrow at him.

"You alright, honey?" you ask. "You're a little red."

"Yeah, yeah," he brushes you off. He can't get a thing past you. "Just warm in here, 's'all."

"It's not exactly our usual type of spot." You turn a little red yourself. "Sorry, Chuu."

"No," he half-snaps, thinking he'd come off as stuck up—fuck, he ought to assert himself softer right now, "no, I don't mean—it's not the place, it's just—"

When he pauses to swallow, you tilt your head even more. It's rare that your slick-tongued, spitfire of a boyfriend is ever lost for words, so something must be up. You find a splinter of anxiety run through you as you wait for him to say something like he has to leave, boss's orders—it wouldn't be the first or last time something like that had happened on date night, but his next words both quell your fear and spark your attention.

"—it was just really cute watching you with that baby."

Ah, you think, smirking. "Really? You think so?"

Chuuya nods, loosening his tie a bit, hoping you'll make maybe one more little quip and then let it go so he can focus on letting it go. It's absurd to him that something so small and innocent has him hot beneath the collar. You're at dinner, at your favorite place—he's not planning to ruin it over the fact that he can feel his dick twitching to life in his pants over thinking about you parenting his child. That can be for later. He's going to focus on letting it go and also the array of sandwiches the restaurant offers on the cute, laminated menu with curly designs framing the perimeter that he suddenly finds very intriguing.

He knows you're going to speak again. He just hopes it won't be the next words that are falling from your mouth as you bat your lashes at him coyly.

But it is.

Your gaze flicks down to the menu—there's a wrap from here you always get, you're eyeing it with familiarity—but you've been here a million times; you hardly need to zero in on that, not when you've reduced the man in front of you to short puffs of breath as he scans the menu with vacant eyes. He is much more interesting. Chuuya Nakahara, feared mafioso, most powerful ability user in Japan if not the world: flustered at the mere image of his partner bantering with a baby.

You right yourself, looking thoughtful. "You think we'd be good parents, Chuu?"

But that coyness doesn't leave your voice; he hesitates to look up at you, knowing you'll be sipping your complementary glass of water in a manner to match, avoiding his eyes so he has to chase them so he can answer you with a sharp glare instead of the words he's thinking that will come out cracked and desperate—a yeah, we would, or even don't be silly, because who is he kidding? He's a mafioso. He's got his hands full trying to protect you as it is. He's killed people. He's certainly not the worst of the worst—he likes to think of himself as a man of morals, despite his profession—but there are certainly circumstances for a child of the both of yours to possibly end up entangled in that make his stomach turn even now, before anything has happened, before anything can happen, but he's righted himself after the challenge of your question and the words are tumbling out, confident, bold, the way you're used to hearing them—a challenge right back to see if you'll bite—

"Maybe we should find out."

Your eyes lock onto his then; a waitress floats by to refill your water glasses and ask if you're ready to order.

"We're gonna order to go," you say cordially, closing your menu. "If it's not too much trouble. Something came up."

"Of course," she chirps, pen and notepad scribbling down whatever it is that comes out of his mouth next—it might what you got, it might not be, but Chuuya's hardly focused on that enough to know—to care. "We'll get those right out for ya. Sit tight for about fifteen minutes, yeah?"

—

You sit tight for about fifteen minutes in the dining room, and then about fifteen minutes more on the back of Chuuya's motorcycle—the ride to your apartment should normally take about thirty. You clutch the takeout bag, but you're more invested in the arm you have wrapped around his middle which drops down to stroke his thigh at red lights; it has his knuckles tight around the throttle.

It has his fingertip mashing madly against the elevator button up to your place; he's impatient, it's evident in the way his heels hardly meet the floor as he strides in, finds you, immediately hikes your leg up against him and kisses you hard before the doors slide shut. He doesn't care who sees. Pretty soon, he figures, everyone will be able to tell anyway; you'll be cradling his kid, the spitting image of him, on your hip everywhere you go and there'll be no doubt who you belong to. What's an innocent kiss in the elevator?

By the grace of some god—or maybe, to Chuuya's ilk—no one stops you on the way up. Well, less time to spend stumbling toward the door as you're grabbing the hem of his shirt, untucking it frantically from his pants; he's guiding you by the back of your neck through the door and slamming it shut as you toss your takeout on the counter and promptly forget about it entirely in favor of wrangling each other into your bedroom.

It's late, but not so late that a sliver of sunset doesn't fall like a invitation across the sheets of your bed, left messy and slept in and loved in from the night before. An orange beam strikes across Chuuya's face, already flushed on his own account and yours, as you crawl atop him, slot your hips together; his hat falls over the edge of the bed and you take it as an opportunity to card your fingers through his fiery bangs while he works your shirt up and off. Cup his jaw, allowing for hot puffs of breath against your lips. Linger down his throat and into the line of buttons that keeps you—not for long—from his gorgeous, sculpted chest and middle.

And the gasps you pull from him when your hands splay across his pecs, up his shoulders as you kiss and bite your way down—they're like song.

"Oh, babydoll..." Chuuya's sighing, flicking his head up to watch you, then back at the bliss you so easily administer to his worn body; he's all rough edges, so ready to go, it's almost like torture to have you teasing your way down his abdomen with you tongue, taking it slow compared to where he wants to take you—but then again, it's you, so fuck it, he'll take everything you give him. Your touch is enough to send him reeling in the sweetest way.

When you work his cock out of his dress pants, he's throbbing, sticky.

"God, I really got you riled up, huh, Chuu?" you tease, tracing a ring around the head of his cock that sends his head back again; he props himself up on his elbows to watch you, hungrily, still red, now redder at your words. "Something so simple, too."

"'S'it so strange to get hard thinkin' about knockin' you up?" he teases back, albeit more breathless than you.

You relish in the small moments like this where you have control—where you're allowed to giggle and circle your tongue over the path your thumb just traced, lapping up his precum and letting your fingers settle delicately around his length. Where you get him to explain himself in low groans and lashes fluttering over his freckled cheeks. You make it a little show for him, every time, like it's customary, never mind how disgustingly you're soaking through your pants right now. You grind on nothing, acutely aware of how empty you are but so enamored with the man you have at your mercy in front of you as you hollow your cheeks and dip your chin to fit a few inches of him in your warm mouth. Low groan. You throb, sticky, too.

"Fuck..." he breathes, still-gloved hand coming to push your hair out of your face; you, doe-eyed and drooling, is a sight he won't, can't miss. You look so pretty sinking your face down onto him, and it sends a shimmer of pleasure all the way to his toes when your tongue traces another circle, this time around the middle of his cock; he's going to lose it so fast, he knows it.

Chuuya loves to watch you worship his cock.

Which leaves him momentarily torn between letting you keep going, letting you keep wiggling your ass in the air so cutely as you suck him, turn him into putty with your lips and tongue, or pulling you off him and stuffing you full as quickly as he possibly can. He watches you, watches you; mouth falling open when you swirl, eyes rolling back when you play with his balls, frozen, in heaven until he comes back to what it was he dragged you home so quick to do: make a baby.

Your nose is just reaching the coarse, red tuft of hair at the base of his cock when he's working you up, off him by your hair, by your wrists, willing you up onto your knees so he can shove his hands between the wretched barrier called your pants and yank them down. You fall into him, kissing him, ever harder.

"Chuuya," you gasp when the waist of your pants and underwear are at your thighs and you feel two cool leather digits circling around your clit. "Ah—"

"Baby, 'need to fuck you, now," he mumbles with urgency against your lips; you're so fucking wet that you just tip onto your back to kick off your garments—he does the same with the rest of his— and spread yourself wide open for him, taking note of the wild look in his eyes next to all the lust, all the lovesickness. You hold yourself open, clenching around nothing, feeling every inch of him as he slinks up your body and slides into you so easily, like he's meant to be there, like he's meant to be pumping you full.

"Gonna fill me up, Chuu?" You're relentless. For now. "Gonna have it drippin' outta me?"

"Unh—agh, oh, fuck," he curses as you clench around him now. "Not gonna let any of it go to waste, babydoll." You rock your hips as he bottoms out and you're reaching for his wrists, his hands, tearing his gloves off his lithe fingers as they're the only thing that keeps you from feeling him so fully now and soon they're gone, too, with the rest of your clothing, and you have him, you have his fingers between yours, clasping hard like they did around the handles of his bike while you left a wet patch on the seat, turning whiter than they ever have, it seems, now that he has a mission beyond just filling you up. He's going to do that, of course, but it's more than just cum; it's him. He wants to put a fucking baby in you.

Which is what he mutters against your neck as he moves, pulls back, and thrusts forward roughly the way he always does on the first one—just to hear you yelp. Now it's his turn to chuckle. You've had your control, and even though he knows more about the control you exert even when you're under him than he'll ever tell you, he relishes in it, too. The way you squirm, the way your knees snap shut around his waist; he smiles into your skin as he picks up his pace, leaning up to watch your head nod against the pillow with the force underscoring his rhythm.

"Fuck, Chuuya," you whisper as the tip of his nose brushes yours. "Love you."

"Love you," he chants back without a second thought, ginger curls curtaining against your face. "Gonna give you my fucking kids. Know we'll be the best parents."

You would giggle again if he wasn't knocking the wind out of you with his next stroke; this time, as it flashes across the back of his eyelids, it does across yours, too. A little redheaded baby, with your eyes, your nose. It has Chuuya pistoning into your cunt, sends sounds of your lovemaking echoing off the walls. The sunbeam slips out of the room, painting you both in the evening; a perfect evening, orange and blue, so much like him, deep like your love and the moans he tears from your throat each time he bullies his way against the entrance to your womb.

Chuuya spends time working you and himself up—he always does. He knows how to angle himself in a way, knows how to fuck steadily in a way that not only drives you over the edge, but turns him into something more of an animal than a man just because it sends you arching, crying—he feeds off of you feeding off of him. A dance that, as those visions flash by him, he thinks, not for the first or last time, he only ever wants to dance with you.

"Chuuya," you cry again—it soon becomes the one of the only things you can get out coherently, other than, "Please, please—"

"W-want that? Wanna make me a daddy?" he presses between feral kisses; you bite each other's lips, you dig your heels into his back, you carve crescents with your fingernails into his knuckles as you nod—it's all you can do amidst his pace, amidst how steadily he's pounding into that spot that makes you scream.

A yes hurtles out of you, strained and broken; a string of more garbled yeses follow, intermixed with pleases and fucks, as your gradually more and more fucked-out brain latches onto to the word. "Wan' give you a fuckin' baby, Chuu, wan' make—unh, wan' make you a daddy, please, need y'tuh cum in me, Chuuya—" and his name trails off into a strangled groan as he releases one of your hands to reach down to your clit.

He rubs you with a quickness that sends lightning to the tips of each of your limbs. He feels your ribs press up, press into his; he watches your eyes roll back; he feels you claw at him with pure abandon as you ripple and heave against each other. He could fuck you forever. He will fuck you forever.

"'M so fuckin' close, pretty," Chuuya growls.

"Cum in me, Chuu," you whimper back, voice shaking as each rough thrust shatters it a little bit more. "P-please, please, please, don't fuh—don't fucking—unh—don't stop!"

Your teeth grind; a bead of sweat falls from Chuuya's forehead onto yours and you groan, almost twist from the pleasure that courses through you all the way to your fingers and toes, abruptly shortening his harsh thrusts as you trap him in the grip of your legs around his waist, his back, his ass, like a vise. You feel him pulse. He doesn't let up. Your orgasm crashes over you like thunder; twitching, creaming, milking him as you pull him down to your mouth to swallow the curses he sobs out as his own climax catapults through him, hot, heavy.

"Unh—ah, ah, baby, I'm—oh, fuck!"

"Fuck, yes—"

Your name, babbled and cracked; warmth spreading throughout you, tremors subsiding, and Chuuya, winded, letting his face fall into your shoulder as he weakly lets his hips come to a stop. You squeeze him closer, looking for air, rolling against him until you're both totally spent. Totally glowing.

"Fuck," he says again, lifting his auburn head like he's in a trance. "Fuck, lift those hips up, babydoll."

Without pulling out of you, he grabs an extra pillow and folds it, wedging it beneath your trembling hips; you look to him, hazy, as he leans down to press one kiss to each of your shoulders.

"Gotta make sure it stays in there, yeah?"

You let out a breathless laugh. "Oh, god, Chuuya."

"Yeah?" he asks again, pulling back to grin down at you, his two-toned eyes still swimming with all that lust, all that love. He circles his hips. "Give me a second before we go again."

"Again?" you repeat, smirking back at him; he sits up and peers down to your messy hole, still stuffed with him. He scoops up an escaping droplet of his cum and tucks it back between your folds, which still spasm softly. Your mouth falls into an o at the intrusion of his finger next to his cock.

"Gotta make sure you gimme a baby," he rasps slyly, and you giggle once more, mirroring the glimmer in his conspiratory eyes. Conspiring to love you for a long time.

"Alright, daddy."

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #nnnsfw.ᐟ #kinktober 2024 #with love—reid

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miyukisu · 1 day ago

Text

Better Bite the Bullet .ᐟ

❤︎ | He's just trying to be a good best friend by teaching you a useful skill in life... blowjobs (2k wc) ╰ feat. iwaizumi hajime (hq) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 10 | kinktober masterlist

tags - college au, childhood bestfriends, Oikawa mention, blowjobs, handjobs, no p in v, p*rn with plot, virgin! reader

minors do not interact

You've known Hajime since you were in diapers, long enough that he had grown indifferent to your antics. He hasn't even looked up once from his phone as you paced tirelessly around his bedroom. You were losing your shit and Hajime was sitting on his bed without a care in the world.

A bright idea came to you in the form of making your footsteps louder in hopes that it would annoy him enough to catch his attention. He clicks his tongue once before narrowing his eyes at your moving form.

But not even a second later, his eyes were back on his phone one again. "What the hell are you even doing?" he asked.

"Pacing around. Isn't it obvious?"

He grumbles, finally turning his phone off and throwing it to the side where it landed on his pillow with a soft thud. "No shit Sherlock. I meant what are you pacing around for? It's annoying."

Finally, you stop in your tracks, facing your childhood best friend with your lower lip between your teeth. You've been dying to tell him what was on your chest an hour ago. But now that you're about to spill the beans to him—you found yourself tripping over your words.

"I guess... um... Oikawa kinda asked me to hang out soon... um..."

Hajime's interest was piqued. Normally he wouldn't give two shits about who Oikawa asked out. But this time it was you. An uneasy feeling brewed in his stomach, like he had drank rancid milk.

"And you're worrying about it like some middle schooler? C'mon you're in college," he deflects. Of course, it was his defense mechanism—to act all tough and harsh with the revelation.

You crossed your arms in defense. "I get that... but it's THE Oikawa Tooru that we're talking about here."

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so'? Is your head not screwed on properly?"

Hajime rolls his eyes. Not only were you about to be whisked away by Oikawa, but you had the gall to act like a total brat right now.

"He's just asking to hang out—what's so amazing about that?"

Truth be told, you hadn't thought this far into what it would be like if you had this conversation with Hajime. You figured you wouldn't have to divulge the second—more embarrassing—part of this whole event.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips. You screwed your eyes shut as if to prepare for the impact of his reaction on what you have to say next.

"A friend of mine told me that when he says something like that... it usually leads to... you know..."

Hajime's eyebrow perked then silence ensued. He knew what you meant, of course. He wasn't born yesterday.

"To what? Fucking?"

Your eyes shot open at his vulgar choice of words. That's exactly what you meant, but you didn't think he'd be so blunt about it. "I mean—if it does get to that... obviously I won't just go all the way with him. I haven't even talked to him that much," you say—backpedaling.

"You won't go all the way, but you'll go somewhere huh?" he pried further. He played it off like he was teasing or, worse yet, mocking. But he wanted to know; he knew his friend's intentions, but he didn't know yours.

You nervously bit your lip again. This was going to be the third revelation of tonight. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that you'd be having his conversation with your childhood best friend.

"Maybe... maybe, yeah... that's what I'm nervous about..."

The uneasy feeling had grown worse. Hajime swallowed even though his mouth felt dry. "Then just don't," he suggests. "You could always just hang out normally."

Another sigh escapes you and you decide to sit beside him—plopping down on the mattress. You ran your fingers through your hair, smoothing out any tangles that had built up.

"I just wanna experience something... you know? I'll only be young and in college once..." you admit. At this point, there was no use in hiding it. Hajime knew every substantial detail anyway.

This time, it was Hajime who sighed. Part of him still felt dread, but another felt pity for you.

"Jeez..."

Hearing his reaction, you felt the urge to stand up and find your bearings. But a warm hand grips your wrist before you could go. You turn to look back and see Hajime's determined expression.

"I'll teach you then."

────────────

Hajime was a 100% sure not a single rational thought was left in either of your heads. Somehow, he thought that if only you touched him and not vice versa—it would be fine. And, somehow, you agreed to it.

You gulped at the sight in front of you, Hajime leaning against the wall on his bed with his dick out of his sweats.

"Well... that's certainly... something..."

"Do you also plan on commenting about his dick when you see it?"

His sarcasm was hardly appreciated right now, especially since you were sure that your nerves would send you into a tailspin.

"No, of course not. I just—fuck, fine. Let's get to it," you say before scooting closer to him.

Carefully, you reach out and gently wrap your fingers around his shaft. Hajime hissed softly, but you were too concentrated to even notice.

Mesmerized, you swiped your thumb over his tip and gave him a soft tug. His jaw was clenched so hard, trying to act like none of this fazed him. But the way you treated him so delicately was arousing in its own way.

You begin stroking him faster. "Is this okay? It doesn't hurt, right?"

"No, but," Hajime pauses before placing his larger hand over yours. "You could do it better though."

He was now guiding you—actually teaching you how to jerk a guy off. Your eyes were fixated on the way both of your hands glided up and down his shaft, slippery from the immense amount of pre.

But his eyes were on your face. Oddly enough, he found it endearing how focused you were at the task on hand (quite literally). He watched every time your face scrunched, how your mouth was a bit agape, and how your eyebrows would quirk up sometimes.

It was cute, he thought.

As soon as you figured out the pace and pressure, he let go of your hand, allowing you free reign over his dick. You felt it twitch. It was most likely a good sign at least. Even better now that he had his eyes closed, head thrown back against the wall.

Maybe this was easier than you thought. Maybe you could do something else. So your hand slows and your eyes trail up to his face. "Hajime."

"What?"

"Can I use my mouth?"

All the air was knocked out of his lungs upon hearing the words that left you. "Huh? What for?"

"No one's gonna be impressed by a handjob. Guys already do it on their own all the time," you reason.

Hajime clicks his tongue. "You don't have to do that kind of thing yet when you're this inexperienced."

He tried staying stern despite the almost pleading look on your face. Hell, he wasn't even sure why he was denying you. He could have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock in a second and here he was—acting like a righteous fool when he doesn't have to be.

Again, he clicks his tongue. But, this time, not because of you. He's annoyed at himself for having no restraint... for having no shame that he's kind of taking advantage of his best friend's naivety.

But to hell with it.

"Okay," he relents. Hajime watches as you get even closer to him. Only then do you feel the nerves consume you once more.

The newfound confidence you had earlier had quickly dissipated as soon as you began leaning down. It didn't help that his natural manly scent was intoxicating. It was warm—you felt it against your face—and it was achingly hard.

You pucker your lips on instinct, accidentally kissing his tip instead. Hajime thought you were doing it on purpose to fuck with him, not realizing that you were tripping out of nervousness.

"Don't be a tease."

"I'm not!" you countered before quickly wrapping your lips around his cock. The warmth of your mouth sent shivers down his spine. But the slight grazing of your teeth on his sensitive shaft made him uncomfortable.

"Ah shit.... less teeth. Gotta hollow out your cheeks a bit."

Your jaw was already hurting. Though it probably had less to do with your skill and more to do with his size. He seemed more manageable with just a hand, but now that you're using your mouth, the task seemed gargantuan now.

But you still try. You do as he says and you feel his entire body relax a bit. It takes a lot of your concentration to make sure your teeth were out of the way and your lips provided enough suction.

That alone had Hajime seeing stars. It wasn't the best blowjob of his life, but seeing that it was your head bobbing up-and-down on his dick was a sensation in and of itself.

After getting used to the basics, you decide to throw in a little bit of tongue action. It caught him by complete surprise and a soft groan spilled from his lips.

Scared that you had hurt him, you were about to lift your head to ask him, but his hand quickly places itself on top of your head. He wasn't rough nor did he forcefully keep your head down.

Instead, he began caressing your hair—starting from the top of your head, going down to smooth your locks. It was his way of reassuring you that he felt fine—amazing even. You were doing a damn good job for someone who hasn't done this before.

Hajime avoided using his voice throughout the whole thing to make it less intimate and more 'educational' if that even made sense. But he understood that you probably needed more reassurance.

"That's it," he started. "You're doing so well... so well for me."

Hajime had filthier things to say otherwise, but again, this was supposed to be 'educational'.

As much as you want to keep up the pace that you built, your jaw was too sore for that. A bit of a break wouldn't hurt, so you retract yourself—tongue lolled out with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. The sight alone would have made him bust, but he kept his composure... somewhat.

"Oh fuck..."

His words spurred you on, however. You settled on suckling his tip while your hand worked on the rest of his length. Having the best of both worlds made his head spin. His leaking tip was the most sensitive it had ever been and the fast pace of your hand made the coil in his stomach tighter and tighter.

Hajime wanted nothing more but to come in your mouth—consider it as payment for him teaching you. His dick began to twitch again like earlier, but this time you noticed the way his abs would tense up. The dampness that had been pooling in your underwear ever since you had his dick in your hand was starting to become distracting. But you pulled through.

"Fuckkk... I'm coming in your mouth," he announced. Thick white ropes of hot cum painted your tongue. The flavor was odd—something you've never tasted before. It made your face contort a bit.

He tried catching his breath after that single mindblowing orgasm. But through his high, he noticed the hesitation on your face. "You don't have to swallow that you—"

But he stops mid-sentence as he watched you gulp down his fresh seed. You've gone this far—might as well.

Hajime swore that he felt his dick twitch back to life, ready for more. He wasn't sure what you did to him. But now he was certain that you absolutely shouldn't do this with anyone but him.

"Fuck... forget about that moron. Have fun with me instead."

╰ author's note Wow... I'm actually kinda proud of this one?

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!!#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi smut #hq #hq smut #kinktober #kintober 2024 #mksu.ktober 24 #mksu.works

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citruslullabies · 2 days ago

Text

Curly Mouthwashing headcannons

Romantic

Pre-crash Curly:

He is just so sweet

Curly is a very nice guy, but with you it's just deadly how nice he is

He's not one for PDA. Captain and all, gotta keep a professional look, y'know?

But whenever you two are alone, I like to think he likes to have his arms loosely wrapped around your hips and his head resting on your stomach

His favorite places to rest his head are on your stomach and chest

Yes ladies, gentlemen, and lades, he doesn't mind those weird noises everyone's stomach makes. And he doesn't mind hearing your heartbeat hammer out of your chest

But I imagine that Curly has a big thing for smells

The captain woke up with a groan, sighing and taking his first conscious breath of the day. His senses are flooded with the smell of you all around him, making his brain numb as he smiled and leaned further into you to drown in the smell.

Smell like vanilla and this can will literally die

He seems like he loves smells like vanilla and lemon

But he loves the way you practically swallow him while with your eyes

The way you look at him with such love and adoration, and not just because he's the captain

It makes him swoon every time

Fantasizes about marrying you and starting a family, but wouldn't push for it first. He wants to wait for you to be ready

You're his sweetheart and he loves you so much

Post-crash curly:

He wishes you didn't have to see him like this.

He feels like the shell of who he once was

Not the strong captain you loved, but rather a failure who can't do anything to help anyone. Not even himself.

Whenever you come and spend time with him, his eye looks to you in yearning

He yearns to hold you like he once did. Yearns to talk to you like he once did

He wants nothing more than to call you beautiful and compliment the same outfit you wear every day

He wants to lay against your stomach or your chest

The only sense of familiarity in your dynamic is your scent flooding his senses and your eyes.

How can you still look at him that way??

How could you see a man and not a monster?

He was partially to blame for this, after all. He failed everyone and was paying the consequences.

But you looked at him with such love..

It killed him when he saw you at that table.

Platonic

Pre-crash Curly:

Kind smiles and fist bumps all day long

He offers help whenever he can, wanting to make sure you were comfortable. You were friends after all and his responsibility

You got a problem? Hes there to listen

He just.. can't do anything about it

He doesn't have much of a backbone, and you learn that quick.

You two grew close. Maybe even closer than him and Jimmy were

But after what happened with Anya..

You couldn't even look at him anymore due to his negligence

Looking at him made you sick. He was a good friend but a horrible captain

"look, I just- I don't know what you expect me to do about this." He says with a tired sigh, exhausted from the work of a captain and the never ending piling issues. He watched as your eyes narrowed in his direction as if he was as awful as Jimmy, but before he could speak, you walked off with a scoff.

Post-crash curly:

He feels humiliated, same as with romantic

But your eyes don't feel welcoming.

He feels nothing but pity but a sense of the feeling that he deserved this in your eyes

Every time you see him, you're quiet

He wishes he could talk to break the ice

He always was the ice breaker.. but not anymore. Not unless you counted the noises of choking and gargling on your own blood and vomit.

But he always felt a sense of emptiness when you finally left

He failed you. And he failed everybody else.

He just hoped you would forgive him

And that this wouldn't hurt

Thanks for reading!!

#i recently got into mouthwashing if it wasnt obvious #i have an oc for it and everything #hehe #mouthwashing curly #mouthwashing curly x reader #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing #captain curly x reader #captain curly #captain curly mouthwashing #mouthwashing captain curly #curly x reader #curly mouthwashing #curly headcannons #mouthwashing headcanon #mouthwashing horror game

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stvrnioloslvt · 2 days ago

Text

quiet - Chris Sturniolo

fratboy!chris × jealous!reader

(dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

disclaimer: the following content is not suitable for an underage audience. please, if you are a minor do not interact in any way or form. thank you. check the trigger warning before reading, enjoy!

t.w: inappropriate language, unprotected sex (don't), a tiny bit of degrading language, jealousy, alcohol, I think nothing more.

a.n: soo...i'm impatient. i had planned to post this story on the 31st, once the poll ended, but i really don't like to wait that much. however, the results are clear: chris smut won with the 52.9%!

when you spot your boyfriend chris flirting with another girl at the Halloween party, you decide to take the matter in your hands and make him jealous thanks to matt. what you don't know, is that chris is keeping a close eye on you.

“i really don’t wanna go to this stupid party, nick.”

“i know, but you know what?” nick put his hands on my shoulders, a gentle yet firm grip. he looked at me in the eyes, then said “at least you look hot as fuck, and that’s all that matters. walk through those doors as if your pussy is made out of gold, and see what happens.”

i smiled at my best friend. with new-found confidence, i walked towards the doors, swaying my hips in my skimpy DCC cheerleaders white shorts that left nothing to the imagination. nick followed right through, adjusting the fake fangs in his mouth. he was one hell of a hot vampire.

as we entered the halloween-decorated fraternity of our college, we were immediately pulled aside by matt, who was waiting for us right at the entrance. blue and purple lights caressed his face, creating weird shadows all around.

“fuckin’ finally! what took you so long?”

“are your eyes actually open? don’t you see how hot we both look? good things are always the last to arrive.” i chuckled as nick pulled me in a side hug to prove a point to his brother.

i eyed matt up and down one last time. even in the weird colored lights, i noticed that something was off. “wait, why aren’t you dressed up?”

“cause i’m getting the fuck out of here, i was waiting for you two just because i don’t want to leave chris here under the influence without one of us to check on him.”

“he’s already drunk?”

“yeah, you surprised?”

i looked around, trying to find that dumb-fuck, with no luck.

“c’mon, let’s get the party started!” nick grabbed my hand, pushing through the crowd of sweaty and dressed up people to get us to the drinks.

“do you want to drink anything?” he screamed loud enough for me to understand him over the blasting music. i shook my head, still trying to find chris. i picked at my skin, worry eating me alive: where the fuck was he? he was drunk, what if he did something stupid, or worse, dangerous?

then, i spotted him: hidden in the corner of the room with some random girl, running his hand through his hair held back by the headband of his basketball player costume. she was talking about something, and i could see clearly the strand of blonde hair that he was playing with twirling in his hand as he leaned on the wall, with the cocky grin of someone who believes that he has the world at his feet.

i felt a wave of nausea hit me, hands shaking by my sides.

nick followed my gaze, spotting his brother. his hand stopped midway, the red cup never reaching his lips. “no way…” he whispered. weirdly enough, i heard that.

just as i was ready to leave everything and get the fuck out of there, nick stopped me.

“let me go, nick, i don’t want to spend another second here.”

“absolutely not.”

“nick, please.” tears pricked at my eyes, making it hard for me to keep them back.

“i can bet you a hundred bucks right now that he’s trying to work you up. two can play that stupid game, y/n, and you've got plenty of people who've been eyeing you up and down since we arrived. go out there and get him back."

i took a napkin, drying my tears before they could fall and ruin my makeup.

an idea popped up in my mind. i turned towards the door, spotting matt, ready to leave.

"nick, quick, how mean would it be if i took revenge with matt?"

"honestly? a lot", he begun, pulling out his phone, dialling matt's number. "but you know what? i support women's rights as well as women's wrongs. go do your thing, baby."

we watched as matt picked up the phone, turning towards us. nick told him to come to us before he left, and so he did.

"matt, go and dance with y/n. don't ask questions, we'll explain everything later."

matt looked at me with a puzzled look on his face, but he didn't complain when i pulled him through the crowd, right in the middle of the room.

"i'm sorry, matt, just a little payback to your dumb brother."

i briefly explained to him what happened, what we saw, and nick's idea, so that he knew what was actually happening.

"you know what? i need a tiny bit of alcohol in me, then we can truly give chris payback."

i watched as one of his friends brought him a red cup. he gulped it down, waiting for the alcohol to hit.

and when it did, we had the best night ever: we laughed, danced, twirled together. soon enough, everyone's eyes were on us, some were judging, others having fun with us. at a certain point i might have drunk something too, cause i found myself grinding against matt. and god knows how private we actually are around each other in our daily life.

i felt matt's hands travelling up my sides, pushing his hips against mine, making me feel his erection. i threw my head back against his shoulder as he placed wet kisses down my neck, hands squeezing me closer to him. soft breaths came out of my parted lips, losing myself in the moment: maybe it was the alcohol, or the music, or the knowledge that everyone does some dumb shit during halloween night and then act the next day like nothing happened, but i had a strong urge to grab him and kiss him, to feel his lips dance on mine, our bodies so close one another that they physically couldn't get closer.

just as i turned around, intoxicated enough to actually kiss him, a strong hand pulled me away from my friend.

"wha-" i turned around, welcomed by the sight of a pissed off chris: jaw clenched, eyes fixed on a spot in front of him, dragging me around the room, elbowing whoever dared to step in front of him.

i tried to free myself from his grip, pulling and tugging with all my might, but he didn't even bulge a tiny bit. "where the fuck do you think you are taking me-"

"quiet."

"chris i swear-"

"shut the fuck up," he growled. he dragged me up the stairs, stopping in front of a door. he opened it and pushed me inside.

he locked the door behind me, pushing me against it. his lips immediately found mine, kissing me roughly. it was an angry kiss, a forceful one. it was screaming vendetta, jealousy, hurt.

i tugged at his hair as his tongue made its way in my mouth. his hands gripped my hips, so hard that i was sure they would leave marks. he hooked his hand under my knee, pushing my leg up and around his waist. i tiptoed with the other leg, trying to gain a bit of height.

chris pressed his erection right against my pussy, grinding slightly to tease me.

"chris," i moaned, every little noise swallowed by his lips.

"such a whore," he growled, lifting me up. both my legs wrapped around his waist to steady myself, as my back hit the door behind me. from this new position, i could feel his tip pushing right at my entrance.

"you really had to go all out and fuck my brother, didn't you? such a needy slut."

"the only slut here is you, flirting with that little friend of yours."

he snorted, clearly pissed off at my comeback.

"you really have no idea of what is coming, ma."

chills ran down my spine at that threat, at his dark voice and blown out pupils. he had the look of someone ready to eat you alive, and that was probably his intent.

"how pathetic," he mumbled before ripping apart the tight fabric of my shorts, leaving me completely bare.

i gasped, trying to pull away. "my shorts!"

"oh please," he started, "they were covering nothing. you could walk out there like this and no one would notice the difference."

he pressed me harder against the door as he pulled down his pants, just enough for his dick to spring out.

"hope matt got you wet enough," he chuckled ironically, then pushed himself right in, to the brim.

a chocked out moan left my lips, as chris started thrusting fast and hard inside me.

"oh chris- fuck."

"yeah? feels good? bet matt couldn't fuck you like i do."

i threw my head against the door while i clawed at his back, his jersey stopping me from leaving marks all over his back.

"ngh- so big, chris...please," i whimpered, trying to adjust to his size and rhythm. chris's lips attached to my neck, leaving kisses all around. as his mouth travelled down to my cleavage, he started to bite and nip at my skin, making sure that it would bruise.

"fuck-," he pulled out, quickly putting me down and bending me over the desk right by the door. whose room was that, again?

he pushed himself right in again, gripping my hips. he pounded into me so hard that the desk was banging against the wall with every thrust.

the room filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together, moans and groans as the music resonated faintly.

"such- a whore, fuck!" i felt him shudder; his hand flew quickly at the base of his cock, squeezing slightly to prevent himself from cumming yet.

"you're fuckin'mine, got that? mine."

one hand grabbed my asscheek, slapping it right after. and then again, and again, until i was left trembling and crying, overstimulated from the pleasure and pain that he was inflicting me.

his thrusts grew sloppy and unsteady as he approached his release. "chris, please, please, i wanna cum so bad" i sniffled, gripping the desk until my knuckles turned white to ground myself.

"no."

"please-"

"you can hold it. you're not cumming until i tell you to."

i bit my hand lightly, trying to focus on his orders. but it was just so hard, and he was fucking me just so good, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, that i knew i couldn't last for much longer.

a low guttural moan escaped from chris's lips as my walls clenched around him hard, pushing both of us even closer to our orgasms.

with a particular deep thrust, he tipped over the edge, spilling inside me, filling me with his hot cum. he groaned relieved as he thrusted slow and soft inside me, riding the waves of his climax.

i screamed, unable to contain my orgasm anymore, shaking as i came down from my high. i whimpered, laying down on the desk, the cool wood making me shiver all around.

"good job, ma," he whispered, stroking my back and kissing my shoulder. "such a good girl f'me, hm?"

his arms wrapped around my waist, helping me up. i leaned into him, grabbing his jersey for support.

"was i too rough?" i shook my head, leaning back to look at him in the eyes. a question bursted out, unable to stay put anymore.

"who was that girl?" chris looked taken back by the sudden question, but he had no problem answering. he shrugged, "i have no idea, i just wanted to work you up. you always give your best with angry sex."

i looked at him flabbergasted, ready to actually pick up a fight. "chris i swear-"

"shush mamas, let's get you something to actually cover up, hm? don't wanna go out there covered in marks and with no pants on, right?"

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

yk what i should fly to the USA just to experience Halloween the American way, that shit seems so much fun i swear.

hope you enjoyed it! happy, spooky Halloween everyone!

love y'all,

-bree🎃🦇

MASTERLIST

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris smut #christopher sturniolo #chris × reader

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