#full of design coffee table

[makismei]

nanami loves watching you do your nails. of course, he’s offered to pay for your nail salon visits but you decline; your at home manicures are a fun hobby and you have full control of what colours and designs get painted onto your nails.

so instead, he funds your little hobby.

you never have to worry about being short of polish, nail tips, glue or charms. he’s even learned how to do your nails the way you prefer and offers to paint your dominant hand.

you have materials at his apartment and he’ll often come home to you at the living room coffee table, hunched over and gluing down clear heart decals and bows.

you show him your hand. “look, i tried using acetone to blend the nail extension and cuticle.”

kento inspects it, gingerly holding your hand. he nods, “it blends in nicely, my love.”

he reaches into his pocket, setting down a new bottle of polish on the table—specifically, the one you’ve been eying for a few weeks.

“kento!” you smile, “you didn’t have to.”

he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. “i wanted to.”

[lawofcollage]

And the many other variations of the rainbow pride flag!

Redbubble: Design 1, Design 2, Design 3, Design 4, Design 5, Design 6

Threadless Pride Collection

Looking for a collection of pride flags year round? Check out my Coffee Table Book of Pride Flags full of fun queer art here!

[danneelgrauls]

Rooftop Deck Toronto

Photo of a large, modern rooftop deck with a pergola

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time His Older Brother Gave Him A Tarot Reading”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, reader is not present, Sukuna is pining hard

Word Count: 1.26k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna isn’t one to make time for his family. Although he has an identical twin brother who bothers him far too much for his liking and an older half brother, he almost never talks about them and spends even less time talking too them. But today he was feeling nice… which is strange for him, but regardless, he decided to agree to come by his brothers’ apartment.

And was quickly reminded of why he never comes over.

Sukuna was seated on the antique couch while Choso kneeled in front of the coffee table between them, flickering candles on every surface bathing the living room in a soft warm glow and reflecting on the shiny surfaces of the crystals placed meticulously all over the table. Choso opened up a small black box, pulling intricately designed tarot cards from inside and fanning them between his fingers before spreading them face down across the table.

Sukuna really was trying not to roll his eyes at the whole ordeal, but the man can only take so much before he’s bound to cave, “This is so stupid.”

“Shh…” Choso leans forward and presses his finger over Sukuna’s lips.

“Don’t touch me.” He grumbles.

“Shut up,” Choso loses his calm demeanor for only a second before he’s closing his eyes again, “I’m focusing.”

“On what?”

“I’m tuning in…” He wiggles his fingers over the cards, “to the energies.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Sukuna rubs his temples, “When did you start doing this witchcraft shit again?”

“Not witchcraft,” Choso peeks one eye open to shoot a quick glare at his brother, “And yesterday.”

“Oh you’re a real professional huh?” He smirks down at him.

“Sukuna,” His shoulders slump and he lets out a frustrated huff, “Just, fucking shut up.”

The two of them squint as the lights suddenly flick on, Yuuji not quite getting the memo of what’s going on downstairs as he leans his head over the stair railing to peek into the living room, “Ooh, how’s the satanic ritual going?” He calls out from the stairway.

“Yuuji!” The two of them call out in unison. He lets out a little “Oops” and flicks the light back off, running back to his room upstairs.

Choso rubs his eyes, smudging his eyeliner onto his fingers, “Okay just, pick a card.”

Sukuna huffs out an annoyed breath, reaching forward and tapping his pointer finger on one of the cards in the middle. Choso slides the card down in front of Sukuna and flips it over, revealing an upside down picture of a man sitting upright in a bed with his head in his hands and swords neatly stacked on the wall behind him.

“Oh, interesting.” Choso mumbles.

“The fuck is he crying about?” Sukuna leans down and squints at the card on the table, “It’s upside down.”

“It’s reversed,” Choso clarifies, “The nine of swords reversed.”

“Choso, I don’t know what the hell that means.”

The long haired man sits up a little straighter, pointing at the card with a manicured finger, “This first card is your past. The next will be the present, and the last will be your future.” He picks the card up and scans it carefully, “You were… struggling, alone, not one to talk to others even when you need to-“

“What is this fuckin’ therapy?”

Choso groans and rolls his eyes, “God knows you need it, but no. Anyway,” He clears his throat, “You were in a downward spiral, but this is past tense, clearly you’re more open now considering,” He gestures vaguely around the room, “Well, you’re here for once.”

Sukuna is visibly annoyed, not a fan of being picked and prodded at. Choso places the card back down on the table, gesturing for Sukuna to pick another one, which to Choso’s surprise and for Sukuna’s morbid curiosity, he does; tapping his finger on a card pushed to the side of the table.

Choso flips the card over, and once again, it's upside down. It pictures a man sitting cross crossed in front of a tree, three golden goblets on the grass in front of him and a fourth being given to him from a disembodied hand floating next to him.

He’s really fuckin’ bad at organizing his cards.

Choso’s gaze flickers between Sukuna and the card, his brows furrowed in thought so clearly that you could almost see cogs turning behind his eyes, “Four of cups… reversed.”

“The hell does reversed mean?”

“It’s usually a negative version of the card’s meaning.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Oh fuckin’ lovely.”

Choso props his elbow onto the table, tracing the outline of the card with his finger, “You’re withdrawing-“

“Well yeah. No shit,” Sukuna cuts him off, “You’re telling me I’m cursed. What’s the damn card mean?”

“That is what the card means, idiot. You’re reluctant to open up to someone.”

Sukuna leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, “Who?”

“I don’t know,” Choso shrugs, “Maybe the future card will clarify.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs. Choso looks up at him with confusion, “I told you this was stupid, I’m not picking another.”

The light flicks on once again, Sukuna groans at the sound of Yuuji’s voice yelling from the stairway, “Sounds like someone’s a fucking pussy!”

“Yuuji, quit eavesdropping or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.”

The light flicks back off.

Choso looks up at Sukuna expectantly, and after glaring down at him for a moment he breaks, rolling his eyes and flipping over a random card, “If it’s upside down I swear to fucking god-“

“Oh shit!”

“What?” Sukuna sounds almost startled, looking down at the card he sees that this one is upright; picturing a naked man and woman standing in front of some kind of angel. But he’s quickly able to gather the most damning part of the card.

The bottom of the card says “The Lovers.”

“Oh fuck off.”

A smile spreads across Choso’s face, “I don’t think I need to explain this one to you. And it’s not upside down.”

“Reversed.” Sukuna mockingly clarifies.

“Shut up,” Choso leans forward, grin still plastered on his lips, “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody, this shit isn’t real.” Sukuna scowls, but deep down he’s glad the room is so dark to hide the tint in his cheeks.

It’s not fucking real idiot. Stop it.

“How about this,” Choso clasps his hands together, looking up towards the ceiling, “If this shit is real, give us a sign.”

Yuuji flickers the lights.

“No! Stop interfering, this is serious!” Choso yells out towards the stairway.

But Sukuna’s blood runs cold as his phone buzzes in his pocket, quiet enough that no one could hear, but he could feel it.

It’s not real.

The room is silent for a moment as Choso scans for any type of sign, but it’s as if the world had completely stopped turning, not even the candles were flickering. Choso plops his head onto the coffee table, mumbling under his breath, “I don’t know why I thought that would work.”

“Mhm.” Sukuna hums, putting up a disinterested front as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “Can we watch a movie or something now like a normal family?”

Choso defeatedly blows out the candles, collecting his crystals and placing his tarot cards neatly back into the box, “Fine, fine, but I still think it’s real.”

Sukuna’s heart nearly stops beating when he unlocks his phone and sees a text from you, “If u leave dirty dishes in the sink one more time I’m actually gonna kill u in your sleep.”

God I hope it’s fucking real.

A/N: Family bonding time has never been so awkward, anyway here’s that time Sukuna started to believe in magic, or witchcraft, or anything if it means you like him as much as he likes you. Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[tswhiisftteedr]

Wings ☆ Drabble/Really Short One Shot

☆ Adam x Wingless Angel!Fem!Reader :

They were just so pretty, you couldn’t help but touch your boyfriend’s beautiful golden wings. And hey, what was the worst that could happen’ probably nothing too bad, right?

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation, Adam is a bit condescending and forceful, but hey, it’s Adam we’re talking about. Oral Sex(Female Receiving), Penetrative Sex, First Time As A Couple. NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 2330

Ask: Hi! ^^ Omg I saw that your requests are open!! I have one for Adam from Hazbin Hotel. I have a headcanon that his wings are very very sensitive and when you touch them it drives him crazy. Could you please do a Nsfw/ smut headcanon, or scenario with him and his female S/O just hanging out, him eating and she gets curious and touches softly them (not knowing what the affect it)? I hope you have a beautiful day!

Note: Of course!! And thank you, hope you also have a beautiful day/night!! Thanks for the request, right now I’m going to work on my others lol. Hope you like what I wrote!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Ever since your ascent to Heaven post-mortem, a sense of exclusion lingered in your heart. Unlike most heavenly beings with wings, you were one of the few soul that lack that part of the brand new heavenly anatomy. While everyone in Heaven remained kind and courteous, the infrastructure, were obvious designed for winged inhabitants. That posed you quite the challenges, especially when you where in need of transportation— the lack of automobiles was your greatest nemesis in the afterlife, as everyone effortlessly soared using their wings they didn’t need them.

Despite a subtle feeling of inferiority, your fascination with wings endured. Their majestic allure captivated you, and the desire to experience the softness of the beautiful contraptions persisted. ‘You just had to feel them!’

And you were determined to do so today, as you had received an invitation from Adam to come over.

Currently, you find yourself enjoying takeout on the expansive balcony of his penthouse. It was nice scenery, a comfy outdoor couch with a coffee table full of food.

As he rambled about his day, you nodded along, your attention solely fixed on the captivating golden wings adorning his sides and back. Sneakily inching closer to him, captivated by their beauty. “—Anyways that chick had a huge rack,” He pauses to take a bite of his burger, “So I guessed even Karen ass bitches can be hot.” he finishes with gulp.

Then you finally had a hold of them, ‘his marvellous wings!’ You were engrossed at their exquisite softness, surpassing any feathers from animals you had ever touched. Lost in the delicate material for about a solid five minutes, it had than dawned on you that Adam had stopped talking. Looking back up at him, you notice he had dropped his burger on the table. Then when you glanced at his face, you noted that he looked ‘different’, if you had to describe it, his face almost looked feverish.

In a blink, you were flipped onto your back and hit the couch cushions, then one of Adam's hands pinned both of your hands above your head.

“Fuuuck, babe! You don't need to get so handsy just because your jealous, you could've just fucking said so instead of acting a little tease, feelin’ me up and all.” He informs you while staring down at your perplexed expression, because, while Adam talked dirty in general, you had  no idea  what  you had done to be a tease in this particular  situation.

While that question spun in your head, Adam moved closer to your ear, his words jolting you out of your thoughts.

“if you were feeling needy, you just had to speak up. You know I would never leave my girl hanging, especially if getting her little brains fuck out is what she wants.” His voice low, full of desire and malice. He then playfully nip at your ear, ‘now who was the tease again?’

“Wait what— Um, Adam, where is all this coming from?!” You speak up, clearly nervous as a result of your boyfriend's statements and how close your bodies were together.

“The fuck you mean? You started this shit.” He begins, slowly sliding his free hand up your thigh. “Getting in my personal space, touching my wings to get me riled up, are you really gonna play the clueless card now you slutty little thing.” His hand now reaching under you shirt. “Think you can mess with me and just act like nothing happened, huh?” He says as he fondles with one of your breast.

“What do mean get you riled up, I barely touch you!?” You speak out anxiously; this was going far beyond anything you had done before. You two would kiss passionately at most, never doing anything remotely close to, 'well this!' It was strange; he almost acted like he did when he was mad, but this was somewhat different.

"Bold lie for an angel, like you wouldn't know— Oh, riiiight, you don't have wings." It had now dawned on him that you were utterly clueless of the affects the soft petting you gave to his wings had on him, and how depraved it made him feel.

"Yeah. I am not sure what I did to you when I touched your wings, but let me make one thing clear: it was unintentional. Seriously, they seemed soft, and I wanted to know how nice they were to the touch. So I'm sorry for making you mad; I should have asked before touching them.” You explain.

"Aww babes, don't worry, you didn't make me mad, and I'll tot's forgive you,"

You briefly relax as he speaks, well that is, until he opens his mouth again.

"Yeah I'll definitely forgive you if take care of my raging hard on for me'." He emphasised his words by grinding himself against you, making you feel his erection, and oh boy! Was he big; his self-appointed title of 'dickmaster' didn't seem so baseless anymore.

Your heart races faster as you feel a wave of panic wash over you. Despite his words, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about the situation. It was a big milestone to you, ‘the first time the two of you would have intercourse’.

You squirmed slightly, attempting to break free from his hold due to nerves but soon realize it was futile with him pinning your hands above your head. "I... I'm not sure that—," you started to say, but before you could finish, he cut you off.

"Shut up and enjoy the ride, babes." He growled softly, taking advantage of your momentary hesitation to quickly roughly kiss your lips. His tongue thrusts aggressively into your mouth, demanding entry while his other hand continues cupping your breast, squeezing and groping roughly. His erection presses harder against your thigh, digging into your sensitive flesh.

Despite your initial protests and confusion, you can't deny the familiar thrill coursing through your veins. You knew better, yet you still arch into his touch, moaning softly against his rough treatment.

As a warning to quit your shifting around, Adam's grip tightens around your wrists, almost painfully so, causing you to whimper in discomfort mixed with arousal.

And when he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing is heavy and labored.

"You like it, don't you?" He asked, his voice low with desire. His hips rock back and forth, grinding against you harder, making sure you felt every inch of his member. "Admit it, Y/N."

"A-adam, please... I—," you pleaded while being out of breath, but your words were cut off by another deep kiss. His tongue forced its way past your lips, exploring your mouth hungrily yet his hand didn't stop its manhandling of your chest. Meanwhile, his cock throbbed painfully against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your clothes.

The sensation was too much for you to handle; despite your original nervousness, the thoughts of messing up or not being enough had dissipated, and you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him anymore. You wanted him and he was totally into you.

Plus your body responded to his touch in ways you didn’t expect it to, it was incredibly in tune with his wants. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as he continued his assault on both your body and mind.

Suddenly, Adam pulled away, his breathing heavy and short. "Good girl," he praised, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now, spread those legs for me."

While being aroused, you still reluctantly spread your legs wide apart, letting him take off your shorts and exposing your wet panties. "Please, Adam," you whimpered, unable to resist his advances any longer.

With a growl of lust, he ripped off your remaining clothes, revealing your naked body to him. His eyes devoured every inch of you—your stomach, to your hips and obviously your beautiful pussy. Without further ado, he leaned forward, his mouth descending upon your navel, tracing slow, hot lines with his tongue before moving lower still. "Mmmm, you smell so fucking good toots," he murmured against your sensitive flesh.

His hands trailed downwards too, cupping your thighs in his palms, squeezing and kneading them. Soon switching to one free hand and one holding down your legs, inching his face to your then and lapping at your heat.

“Adam, what in the heavens are you doing!?"

“Uh, trying to eating you out, pretty obvious babes”

"Yeah, I get that, but like, why?? You always complain about 'bitches being annoying for demanding you go down on them.' when you mentioned passed relationships"

"Oh yeah, I did say that lmao. Honestly, I just feel like it. You look so pathetically adorable; I couldn’t help myself."

“Did— did you just lmao out loud?”

“Do you want me to stop eating you out with all your interruptions.” He threatens.

"No! I mean, I'm alright. Please continue."

"That’s what I thought too, babes," he grinned around your wet folds, sucking and licking at your sensitive spots. His tongue traced along your cunt, flicking against your clit before returning to tease your entrance again.

You moaned softly, your hands grasping tightly onto Adam's horns as he continued to pleasure you. You arched into him, letting out a soft whimper when his long tongue brushed against your G-spot. "Mmmhmmm... More please..." you managed to mutter between heavy breaths.

He chuckled lightly against your sensitive flesh before pulling away slightly. "Alright, alright." With renewed vigor, he returned to his task with even more enthusiasm, sucking harder and faster on your clit while his fingers teased her opening. He could feel your wetness increasing rapidly, seeping down onto his hand.

Your body trembled and shook in response to the intense sensations assaulting every inch of your being; you were close now—very close. Your breathing became increasingly shallow as she fought the impending orgasm building up inside of her. Then finally you reached sweet climax.

Adam momentarily let go of you to undress himself, now cock in hand."Tell me you want it," he demanded between kisses to neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

"I... I do," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible above your heavy breathing.

"That's my girl," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without warning, he thrust his cock deep inside you, filling you completely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the unfamiliar yet familiar feeling washed over you. His thrusts were fast and hard, pounding into you relentlessly. Each powerful stroke brought forth a moan from your throat, mixing with his growls of pleasure.

Your body adjusted quickly to his size, accommodating him easily despite initial discomfort. You arched your back against him, meeting his rhythmic thrusts. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever experienced before—it hurt, but in the best possible way. Your chest bounced with each powerful thrust.

As Adam continued to ravish you, his fingers found their way between your legs, rubbing and massaging your sensitive folds. He teased and tormented your clit mercilessly, causing waves of intense pleasure to ripple through your core. After staring at your lower half for a minute, “I should totally get my name tatted on you, like a crotch tattoo or some shit.” he tells you in his usual goofy tone, yet the look behind his eyes seem to say that he wasn’t completely joking. You on the other could only cry out his name between ragged breaths, begging for more.

“That's it, you filthy little whore," he murmured between labored breaths. "Tell me how much you love this, slut." His pace picked up even more, slamming into you harder and faster than before. Your moans echoed around the room as he relentlessly claimed your body.

In response to his demand, you managed to choke out, "I... I love it!" Your voice cracking with desire, filled with honesty despite yourself.

"Good girl." He growled, picking up speed. His hips slammed against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His fingers continued their relentless assault on your sensitive spots, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. As a reflex you grabbed at his back, well in this case, his wings.

And that action fucked with him so bad. So Adam bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark that would later turn into a pretty obvious hickey. Blood trickled down your skin, but it only served to heighten your arousal. "Cum for me, babe," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust. "Let go, don’t think too hard about it"

You were close, so close to the brink of orgasm. The constant barrage of stimulation was too much for your body to handle, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "A-Adam... I'm..."

"That's it, baby," he encouraged you, his words thick with desire. He increased the pace even more, pounding into you relentlessly.

With a loud cry, you release around him, your pussy contracting tightly around his cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Your entire body shook with the force of your climax, and sweat trickled down your body, mixing with his saliva and cum.

Adam groaned in satisfaction, following suit moments later, filling you up with his hot seed. Panting heavily, he lifted his head to stare into your eyes, his gaze filled with lust and satisfaction. "That was fucking amazing, shit, that’s why your my fav."

After momentarily going inside to get cleaned up, you had returned to the balcony.

“Shit my burger is cold!” Adam bitches.

“Well what did you expect it was left on a table while being outdoors— Oh, shit, did someone-?” You begin, than the realization of the what just happened hits Locke a truck.

“-Hear us? Yeah most likely, but doesn’t really matter, they won’t do shit about it, well probably.” He says followed by a laugh.

Sometimes you wondered why you were dating someone so irresponsible, but after today, you did have another bullet point to add to your pros list. ‘The dick was good’

Thanks @starlightfire97 for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

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Tag list for Adam: @sunflower-lilly @moonbloom226

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

[minhosimthings]

Sample Session || 18+

Synopsis: In which you ask your boyfriend for a semen sample

Pairings: Sunghoon × fem!reader, non idol au

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v sex, rough sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex (not for you at all) masturbation (male), spit as lubricant, praise, degradation, swearing, rough dom Sunghoon, sub!reader, reader wears pink lingerie, boob fixation, dirty talk eyyy, collecting semen in that tube because we medical students, mentions of Yunjin from Le Sserafim and Gaeul from IVE

A/N: this is my submission for @deluluriddhi's 500+ followers event which you can find here! Had a shit ton of fun writing this though so here you go babies!

Being a doctor has its advantages.

You get to help people, you get a shit ton of money (student debt sucks but hey), you get a hot boyfriend, you can correctly pronounce and know the meaning of choledocholithiasis.

Did I mention hot boyfriend?

Park Sunghoon. Possibly the hottest and the only surgeon-in-training you'd ever want to have inside of you all day long.

Of course the walls still speak of the times he railed you in the room where they kept the crp training dolls, but we don't speak about that anymore.

But one of the greatest advantages of having a Park Sunghoon, as you soon found out, was that he proved useful in a quest.

For a particularly awkward thing.

"Sperm samples?" Yunjin gasped, almost spilling her coffee on you, "we have to collect sperm samples?"

"For the last time, yes." Gaeul groaned, massaging her temples, Yunjin had been asking the same thing since the past hour.

"How on earth are we going to get semen samples?" Yunjin asked, turning to you for some reason.

"Alright ladies, time to seduce some men." Gaeul laughed, sipping her frappuccino.

"Y/N already seduced one." Yunjin groaned, deflating her body onto the table, "Hey, get some for us too will you?"

"Number 1, we need to have different samples, and number two how the hell am I gonna ask him?" You quizzed the girls, who looked dumbfounded.

"Maybe..you know." Yunjin began, and you realised she had the same face on as she did whenever she saw the extremely phallic design of the law building at your college, "Just do the oogey-boogey with him."

Gaeul's frappucino can spit out her nose, as she cackled loudly, garnering the attention of many people in the cafe.

"The oogey-boogey YUNJIN WHAT?" Gauel kept laughing, holding her stomach tightly, "Is that your way of saying that Y/N needs to seduce Sunghoon into somehow giving her his semen?" She said, when her laughter died down.

"Absolutely not!" You protested. The idea of seducing your boyfriend was...nice to think of but to actually have a practical session? You would have rather jumped off a cliff.

"Just ask him today, we have a holiday tomorrow, so incase the oogey-boogey indeed does oogey-boogey you have semen! Simple."

Gaeul's frappucino was subjected to being ejected out of her nose again, as she rolled over in fits of laughter.

This wasn't you.

This definetly wasn't you, Sunghoon thought.

His mind was racing at a hundred kilometres per the second, and his bag full of pastries for you was abandoned on the floor as soon as he saw what lay in front of him.

A reward for his hard work today? The thought of what he had done to deserve you was running a lap through his brain. You, in your pretty pink lace, with white trimmings, and pearls on your neck, the ones he bought you of course.

"Well hello there, gorgeous." He said, grabbing your waist in his arms, as he always did when he got back home. But this time, with a different purpose.

"All dressed up for me today?" He quizzed you, placing a kiss at the nape of your neck. It was pathetic how much the simple action made your hole so wet.

Sunghoon toyed with the pretty pink lace of your bra, kissing up and down your collarbone. God had you changed your perfume? It seemed so intoxicating to him. Your hands came to rest on his shoulder, as you nibbled the tip of his ear a bit, which made his dick throb inside his pants.

"Come on." He mumbled through his kisses, lifting you into his arms, making you wrap your legs around his waist, which you did promptly.

The one thing that Sunghoon would have never expected was the various medical equipment that lay on your bed.

"Y/N." He glanced at you suspiciously, putting you down on your feet, "what's all this?"

You awkwardly cleared your throat and rushed over to the bed, picking up a tiny test tube and shoving it in your boyfriend's hands.

"Alright so I have an assignment and I need your help." You said, a bit more seriously than you had wanted to.

"Do you need me to get you pregnant or something?" Sunghoon chuckled, his eyes darkening, "Cause I won't say no."

"Actually it's not that."

"Then what is it, princess?"

"Canihaveyoursemensampleplease." You mumbled, or more properly, to say, rapped.

"Y/N, proper sentences please?"

Sighing heavily to yourself, you gulped and wrapped your arms around Sunghoon again, pressing a chaste, sweet kiss to his pink lips.

"I need a semen sample for an assignment." You mumbled into his ear, albeit a but louder this time. Sunghoon smirked into your neck.

"That's it?" He asked, a cocky smile spreading on his face. His baby, needs a sample from him? He thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

"Yeah...it's fine if you say no though!" You panicked, looking at him with widened eyes. But Sunghoon only chuckled again and raised your chin to his level with his finger.

"How could I say no when you're asking so nicely?" He said, guiding you over to the bed. Kicking off his shoes, Sunghoon settled in nicely between the sheets, while you awkwardly sat at the edge, handing the tube to him.

"Don't want to join me baby?" Sunghoon asked, taking off his belt and his trousers, and pulling you in for a sudden kiss, by grabbing your face with his hands.

"You're a medical student too Hoon, you know I can't." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Alright, but do me a favour. Hold the tube in place for me will you?" He handed the tube back to you, and you bit your lip. Holding it in place. In other words, bending over to make Hoon see your cleavage.

"If that's what'll get you off, then fine." You grumbled, although your panties were getting wetter by the second at the idea.

Sunghoon leaned against the bedframe, relaxing into the sheets, holding his throbbing cock with one hand. He began to jerk off hard, his hand rising to the tip of the cock, where more fat drops of precum accumulate, feeling the alcohol of your perfume take over the body,

"that what you want, princess?” he spits on his cock and starts jerking off again while he speaks his hand doesn't stop, slow movements, up and down as if he wanted to feel the familiar sensation of your walls clenched around him. He could feel a knot forming in his stomach, at the sight of seeing your tits, lined perfectly in your lingerie. The sight of it made him go mental.

His hand never abandons his cock, squeezing, going up and down without losing rhythm. Sunghoon began to feel signs of orgasm so he reduced the speed of his hand, waiting for what will come next.

Sunghoon thinks while squeezing his cock tightly, holding by the base his fingers massage the balls, he climbs his hand slowly and passes his thumb over the head of the cock dripping precum, spreading and with his eyes glazed, little moans escaping his lips. Sunghoon sits more centered on the bed, drops of sweat run down his hair, dripping and turning a trail around his neck, chest and belly, his body is so sensitive to touch that the drops of water seem to scratch while the sheets seem to hug him.

"Fuck—im close." He whimpered, eyes rolling back as the knot in his stomach broke and the next moment, his hand was drenched in cum, and you were holding a test tube filled with what you needed.

"Shit" Sunghoon fell back on the bed, while you happily inserted the semen into your carrier so that it stayed safe. You crawled promptly into the bed with him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you so much Hoonie, I had no idea how I was going to get the-"

"What about my payment princess?" Sunghoon's whispered growl in your ear left you crumbling.

His touch left your skin burning in desire for more and before you could even catch a breath his hands grabbed your legs and you find yourself wrapped around his waist. Your hair was soft between his fingers and as he gently pulled it, you let out a little groan. 

"Hoonie–" you whimpered, feeling a blush creep up to your cheeks.

He loved seeing you like that, confused, embarrassed, submissive, and highly aroused. Holding your gaze for another moment, he rubbed his hand over your wet folds, gathering your slick on his palm. When he finally bent a finger and slipped it between your lower lips, he watched you closely, and as a soft squelching sound rang in his ears, he saw you writhing in discomfort, frowning slightly, but it made him smile at you, and your embarrassment was quickly forgotten.

Holding your waist firmly, Sunghoon flipped you over onto the bed with a rough thump, making you moan at the very sensation of his biceps touching your body.

"So wet for me already?" Sunghoon chuckled, removing your panties slowly, "You're so adorable."

"Shut up." You groaned, feeling embarrased again, "Hoonie, we ran out of condoms, maybe we should-"

"You're on birth control right?" Sunghoon pressed a kiss to your neck, making you mewl when his tip slightly touched your pussy, "You're not leaving this bed until the sheets are either drenched or until you've fainted."

His voice was rough as he lined himself up with your entrance as you panted in anticipation, fingers digging into his back when he finally entered you, moaning deeply at the feeling of your walls starting to clench around him.

The stretch when he enters you burns gloriously, your mouth falling open in a perfect, round ‘O’ of ecstasy. Sunghoon fills you slowly, burying himself to the hilt, so deep that you can practically feel him rearranging your insides.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” he praises.

Discomposed, his voice thickens, rounding the vowels and blurring the ends of his words. Sunghoon rocks his hips one shallow thrust striking a spot inside you that has your vision whiting out, ecstasy buzzing in your heavy limbs.

“That felt good, huh? Yeah. I know, I know,” he soothes, swallowing your whines with wet, deliberate kisses, tongue sweeping every corner of your mouth and teeth grazing your lips.

Your noises grew louder, as did the wet squelching sounds as your pussy fluttered around him, muscles clenching, a burning warmth gathering inside you. You sank your nails into the old wood, holding on for dear life as his pelvis smacked against your cushioned ass in quick succession.

 “Can’t you handle it, baby?” Sunghoon looked at you with pity, "Is it too much for your pathetic pussy?"

“I can-fuck, I can—handle it.” you whimpered. You clearly, could not handle it.

His own grunts filled your ears, adding to the tension building up in your belly, those deep vibrations pushing you right over the edge.

"Hoon-I—ah FUCK!"

You cried out when your walls clamped around him, that tight coil within exploding into a thousand tiny lights that made your entire body convulse against him. He felt your orgasmic contractions, and despite the soreness in his leg, he kept fucking you through your release, your juices helping in easing your tight passage, but he still strained to keep his rhythm. His fingers dug into your soft skin, and he felt a bead of sweat running along his temple.

That unlocked something inside of him. While he still held you, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he could reach, he slammed into you, forcing your small body to jerk in his arms with each thrust. He grunted and moaned, nearly panting, as he crammed himself inside of you.

It doesn’t take long for your next orgasm to build up, releasing it with a silent cry as you unintentionally dig your fingers into Sunghoon's back causing him to groan in your ear in pleasure. He keeps his thrusts consistent as you begin to leak around his cock and onto the blanket beneath you. There’s no doubt you’ll have to change the bedding later. 

All you could do was bury your head in his chest until with one more thrust, he pushed into you, unloading pump after pump of cum. Afterwards, he slumped down, slowly dragging his cock out of your stuffed cunt, leaving you empty and internally screaming at the intoxication of the burn.

"Shit-" Sunghoon plopped down on the bed, next to you. Both of your chests rose and fell in unison, as you managed to steeply catch your breath.

A moment of calm silence arose before-

"Does your professor need any more sampler or...?" Sunghoon asked, eliciting a laugh out of you.

"Nope, just the one." You chuckled at his unseriousness as he pulled you in for cuddles.

"You're changing the sheets this time Hoon."

"Damn it."

Bonus

"So you did the oogey-boogey with him?"

"Yunjin!"

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream and things in your shared apartment that makes sense.

Mark Lee ; subtle spiderman decorations.

It was a silly fandom joke but Mark took it seriously like lol okay spidermark we see you. So it makes sense that your shared apartment with him has some subtle spiderman decorations. And it's not like you two thought about it, it just happened that when you two go shopping and saw something spiderman-related, you two would buy it impulsively. There's a lego spiderman both in your apartment keys. A small spiderman figurine lay silently on the corner of bedside table. Or maybe there's a "I love Spiderman" magnet on your fridge too. Either way, it's cute and reminds you of your boyfriend so much. 

Huang Renjun ; touches of your favorite color.

When you two first bought the shared apartment, you and Renjun discussed about the overall design of the flat, especially the color combination. Making sure that you two can come in terms, your apartment felt like a light spring because of the color combination. You two made it worked and it feels like home for the two of you! Also, you two are very meticulous with the design, like it took you guys a week to fully designed the whole apartment but it was worth it because it turned out so beautiful! <3

Lee Jeno ; everything comes in pairs!

Like. Literally. Everything. Is a pair. That's why the Dreamies would complain why you two only have two sets of plates and utensils, and Jeno would shrug, it's not like you two need more lol. The first thing you'll see is two pairs of home slippers, and key holder only has two hook. There's one long couch that only fits two people, and in the bathroom, there's a pair of toothbrush rest idly on the holder! But it's a cute way to show that the apartment is owned by a couple who's very minimal and tranquil with their life. <3

Lee Donghyuck ; mismatched decorations

I feel like the overall aesthetic of your shared apartment with Haechan is kinda chaotic but the more you stare at it, the more you think that hey, it's not that bad at all. Like it's fine that your collection of sonny angels is right next to Haechan's pc set-up. Or how a lego figurine of a sportscar is line-up on top of a cabinet and then, there's this cute miffy lamp next to it. Everything's just mismatched but it's your shared apartment, and no one seems to bat an eye at the confusing aesthetic of the apartment. 

Na Jaemin ; photobooks as coffee table center

Okay mr. narcissism, it's no surprise that you have a set of photobooks on top of your coffee table. It probably contains: (1) pictures of you two on a vacation together, (2) portraits of the people he love the most, or (3) portraits of Dreamies! He swells in pride whenever there are guests and they would look into the photobook and just admire the portraits that he captured. Plus, it's placed in your shared apartment! He was just happy that his three kids hasn't chew the photobook yet, (and hopefully not!)

Zhong Chenle ; scattered bitten objects

It's not like your apartment's messy, but Daegal is such a hyper dog despite being your princess. She just loves to play and even though her teething phase is finished, she still lovesssss carrying objects to bite. You'll just go home to your apartment and find that Daegal had reached the throw pillow and now it's on the floor, ripped open with a few cottons on the floor and you couldn't be angry with her because she has her puppy eyes waiting for you. <3 Plus, you know how your boyfriend tolerates Daegal's biting habits lol. 

Park Jisung ; a bed full of plushies

OH. Your bed with Jisung is just full of plushies and that's because you're obsessed with plushies and couldn't sleep without cuddling one. (Jisung would complain that you should just cuddle him instead.) He only have a few plushies there but you tend to just fill the bed that when morning comes, some of the plushies were already on the floor. You would pick them up and apologize for pushing them off the floor while your boyfriend just stares at you. But at the same time, he doesn't mind because it's like you two have a big family whenever he goes home and sees the pile of plushies on the bed. 

[gildedoak]

Radioapple Week Day 1 - Late Night/Early Morning

For those who haven’t heard THIS SONG by OkJess - treat yourself to an earworm!

Click here for Part 2!

Description below the cut!

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: the HAZBIN HOTEL kitchen, 2:15am

Alastor bends down, waving a hand in front of Lucifer's face. Lucifer looks like he's turning into primordial ooze, becoming one with the table he's slumped over. In one hand, he's clutching his "I quack myself up" mug, which is full of hot coffee. His eyes are wide and bloodshot as he stares off into the distance, and his hair is a mess.

A: (thinking to himself) Well this is... concerning.

L: (blearily) ....wuh?

A few blurbs point to Alastor: - has been trying to get his attention for the past 15 minutes - just finished his late night radio show

A few blurbs on Lucifer: - fighting off a depressive episode - hasn't slept in 72 hours - has maybe had 72 coffees - he lost track after #50 - was struck with inspiration for more duck designs at 3am (...3 days ago)

END DESCRIPTION]

[lackadaisycats]

Some insight into the designs and fashion of the 20s would be so cool, especially since it's kinda hard these days to sift through just costume listing :'0

Yeah, sadly, the usefulness of a Google search is greatly diminished these days. You can still find articles written by actual human beings and genuine historical garments, but you have to wade through a lot of junky costumes and AI bullshit to get there. I can't possibly fully explain 1920s fashion here, though. It's a broad enough topic to write a sizable book about...which is why people have written many books about it. Check out some books. There are things you can get pretty cheap from resellers, everything from academic screeds about the politics behind the fashion trends of the time, to clothing catalogue compilations from the 20s, to giant coffee table books full of glorious photos.

Here's a PDF version of one of those clothing catalog collections. There's an entire preface about 1920s fashion in general too.

There are some pretty well made blogs about the topic out there as well. Vintage Dancer is one of them. The front of the site is unfortunately kind of cluttered with ads for costume apparel and modern clothing inspired by the 20s, but scroll past that to the historical bits and you'll find pertinent things.

There are some great fashion YouTubers too, like Karolina Zebrowska. Although she's not focused heavily on 1920s fashion, she talks a lot about early 20th century fashion in general. She also talks a lot about the historical context of those fashions.

Also, try online museum displays. The Met Museum has a searchable collection, for instance. Look up 1920s fashion, 1920s dresses, 1920s suits, etc.

Cameras were popular and accessible in the 1920s. Look at pictures of what people actually wore. You can find these images in free government photo archives, or licensing libraries like Getty Images (you don't have to license anything to look at it). And there's always Shorpy. Poor old, underappreciated Shorpy. Their archive is searchable.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Father's Day

Was going to post this for the steddie microfic June prompt, but decided it's probably not Steddie-centric. Still sticking to the reqs though, just for fun!

prompt: "stuff" || wc: 483 || rated: G || cw: none

~~~

Everyone knows Steve’s house is free reign for hangouts, yet the Party’s collectively designated Sundays as alone time for the new couple. So it’s a bit of a surprise that someone’s knocking. 

The fact someone’s knocking at all is weird.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie shouts from the living room, “can you grab that? I think someone’s here.”

Steve opens the door to find Dustin and Max looking slightly shy, if he had to put his finger on it. Odd, especially for them. They’re holding gift bags filled with colorful tissue paper, Max’s blue and Dustin’s red.

Before Steve can invite them in, they surge past him towards the living room. So not too far off from normal, he thinks.

He trails after them and finds Eddie right where he left him– sitting on the floor, surrounded by DnD books and a notebook perched in his lap.

“Babe, what are the sheepies doing here? It’s Sunday,” Eddie asks. He’s smiling up at them, despite the interruption.

Of course they’re happy to see the kids– always are, always will be– but only these two could get away with showing up on Eddie and Steve day.

“We brought you something,” Max says, thrusting the gift into Steve’s arms. Dustin drops his onto Eddie’s lap, scattering his loose notes.

Curious, Steve looks to catch Eddie’s expression to find him already tearing into the gift. Steve sets his on the coffee table and digs out the colorful paper.

Inside he finds a plain, white coffee mug, except it’s been hand-painted with colorful paint pens. On it he finds a basketball, baseball, and a crudely drawn version of his beloved beemer. But on the front, the word “Dingus” is written in Max’s bubble font underneath a bloody version of his nail bat. 

His eyes sting with warmth, and he looks up at Max, whose cheeks are flushed red. Steve finds Eddie holding a similar mug covered in what he assumes are DnD monsters, along with some dice, and his precious Warlock on the front with “Metalhead” underneath.

“What is this,” Steve asks, choking on the lump lodged in his throat.

“It’s all stuff you like,” Max replies, pointing at the mug, choosing the easy answer instead of the real one.

”No– why?” Steve feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes almost full, and his heart racing.

“It’s Father’s Day,” Dustin says, sniffling and wringing his hat in his hands “and me and Max, you know, we don’t–”

“You guys taught us how to play basketball, so we could practice with Lucas,” Max interrupts. “And how to play guitar. And all of the Upside-Down stuff. You’re always here.”

Steve wraps Max up in his arms, dragging her to the ground next to Dustin similarly draped over Eddie. It’s not the six little nuggets Steve asked for.

But these kids– their kids– are so much more than he ever could’ve hoped for.

~~~

To everyone out there who doesn't have a father, your father is absolute shit, or you mom was both parents -- I hope you have as good a Sunday as possible.

[peachesofteal]

18+ noncon, Simon drugs you/her, somnophilia

Girl who takes herself to her favorite coffee shop on the corner to post up with her laptop and a latte.

They serve them in those big ceramic mugs she likes. The white ones that seem so wide you could take a bath in them. Filled to the brim with an unbroken layer of foam on top, she always appreciates when the barista takes the extra time to draw her a quick little design. Makes her feel seen, special, almost.

She always sits a corner, headphones in, typing away on whatever it is she’s working that week, barely away of the comings and goings around her.

She doesn’t notice anyone, and no one notices her.

It’s perfect, really.

Until one morning when she attracts the wrong kind of attention.

It starts with the cup being just a tad too full, balancing on its saucer, ceramic trembling in her fingers. The shop is busy, and someone at the long table in the middle fails to look over his shoulder, sliding backwards in his chair to stand. Hot espresso and milk splashes down her chest, her shirt, and she gasps, sizzling pain shocking the breath from her body.

“Oh shit,” the man starts, turning to face her, hands out and frantic. It’s quiet now, eyes in the room fixed on her, watching, waiting, expecting a civilized reaction. They want her to say ‘oh that’s alright, it was an accident’ or ‘no harm no foul, it happens’ something like that, effectively releasing the burden of shame hanging over the perpetrator.

But, alas. She’s not the one.

“Oh shit?” She rolls her eyes. “You just made me spill my fucking coffee all over myself, and your response is oh shit?” If it was quiet in the coffee shop before, it’s pin drop worthy now.

She expects the man to back down. To cower, start stuttering a profuse apology. That, or the other option, the one where they get defensive, enraged, emotions running wild at the idea of being challenged.

The man does neither of these things. He crosses his arms and cocks his head, sizing her up like he forgot to eat dinner last night and she’s his next meal. The hair on the back of her neck stands up. “Are you going to let me finish, little spitfire?” Jesus Christ. She shoots him the nastiest glare she can conjure, then turns on her heels.

Fuck that guy.

Simon likes himself a little spitfire. A little piece of c4 in his hand, his finger on the trigger. Likes a girl with fight in her, one that scratches, that yells.

His cock aches thinking about how she’d howl under him, face screwed up with rage, salty, sweaty slick pooling between her legs. He’d jam his thigh right in that spot, and order her to rub her pussy against the grain of his jeans until she was cumming on them. He wants to hear her gag on his finger as he scratches her tonsils with it, pressing down on her tongue, forcing her teeth wide, testing.

So, of course, he does the thing he knows he’s not supposed to do. He’s got some time, some leave, plenty of time to hunt his prey and set a snare, a rope around her ankle, stringing her up like a pretty precious offering.

She’s got a nice home. It’s small, one story, windows open with the breeze. The curtains wave with the wind, exposing slivers of her living room, kitchen, bedroom. She putters around the house for a while before the lights go dark, noise of the street enough to drown out the sound of his knife surgically cutting an opening in a screen.

Once the window is open, it’s over. There’s no match, no matter how explosive she is, there’s no him vs her. It’s just him, with her underneath, throat clogged by his cock.

Probably not tonight. Tonight, he’s going to peel her free from the top sheet and jab a needle into her ass to push diprivan, enough to keep her loose and sweet, trapped in sleep long after he leaves. She’ll be more than groggy when she wakes again, chalking it all up to some sort of dream.

She takes it so easy too. Doesn’t fuss. Barely stirs when he rubs a hand over the fat of her hips, squeezes the flesh for his needle. She gasps in her sleep, brow furrowed, listlessly drifting away.

The first thing he does is roll her to her back. She sleeps naked, a pleasant surprise, muscles soft as he pushes her knees to her chest, exposing her cunt to his hungry eyes. He’s only supposed to look, to inspect, but he can’t help pulling a glob of spit from his cheeks to the tip of his tongue, letting it drip down in a long drop, oozing onto her clit.

“Pretty pet.” He murmurs, gloved finger stroking through her folds, fingertip barely pushing against her hole, sliding down to feel the tight furl between her cheeks. “Perfect little holes f’me, eh? Tight little things you’ve got.” Maybe she’s never been fucked before. Too much acid in her blood to bend or break for anyone. He buzzes with the idea that no one has ever had a cock, or anything, inside her, and spits again, this time a bigger wad, bubbles and all, thick and viscous. “Let’s check little spitfire.” He presses inside her, working his finger in easy strokes, feeling her walls, the heated clutch of her cunt. There’s resistance there, a flimsy, thin barrier separating him and the rest of her, his chuckle dangerous in the dark. It’s tempting to take it right now, but he’d rather watch her face when it happens so he can see the moment she realizes, when he ruins her, when he rips through her purity and makes her his own.

He unzips his pants, fisting his cock, precum already beaded at the tip and dripping, coating his palm as he pumps. She moans, like she knows somehow. It’s a high pitched, breathy thing, one that rattles his bones. He answers with a thumb on her clit, pressing, circling, still stroking himself, indulging in her shudders, the jerking of her legs as she she climbs to her climax.

He wants it at the same time. Wants to paint her pussy with his cum when she explode into hers, wants to do it together. As he gets close, he works both himself and her furiously, waiting for that moment when her muscles will go rigid and her pussy will flutter.

When it hits, he follows, white spend shooting up over her belly to her breasts, almost too much to be believed. It’s a mess, really, and he doesn’t want to leave her like this. Too obvious.

He takes his time licking her clean, filling his mouth with his own cum, holding it against his teeth, under and over his tongue. He breathes through his nose until he’s satisfied he got it all, and then sticks a thumb between her teeth, prying her jaw wide-

so he can spit it, drool it, into her unsuspecting mouth, letting it drip to the back of her throat, white sticky load of spit and cum coating her tonsils, her teeth, her tongue.

See you tomorrow.

[rosemaeridream]

hate is no better than love. | (M)

Mature content (18+)

fashion-designer!aeri x photographer!fem reader

warnings: inevitable hate fuck?, strap, bottom!aeri, top!reader, a little bit of roughhousing from both sides, intense back scratching, nude/pornographic photography, do they actaully hate each other or is the sexual tension too much???

A/N: whoever asked for this BEFORE armageddon i'm so sorry lmfao + this hasn't been beta'd mistakes will be present

word count: 4.6k

Uchinaga Aeri is not a woman you love.

She’s rich. She’s popular. She’s arrogant. She’s manipulative. She has a fucking smirk soldered onto her lips at all points of time. It’s infuriating. 

Wholly.

Completely. 

Utterly.

It makes perfect sense why Aeri isn’t your kind of person. She’s everything you’re not–both the bad and the good. 

And yet, God be damned, she’s always nearby. 

It’s not like you’re trying to seek her out. She’s studying fashion (or something you couldn’t be bothered to figure out) while you’re doing some arts degree. It didn’t matter, just as long as you weren’t in the same course.

And yet, God be fucking damned, she’s always nearby.

You’re on your way to the station, and she’s giggling with her friends behind you, somehow loud enough to pierce through the noise-cancellation of your headphones. 

You’re studying outside one of your lecture halls, waiting for your next class, and she’s checking her appearance in the window’s reflection thirty steps away.

You’re on a fucking walk at the beach, kilometres away from the university, and damned Uchinaga Aeri is there, laying back in a chair, sunglasses shielding her eyes and only clad in a bikini.

You could easily not love Aeri. Not loving just meant not caring. But when you see the woman four out of seven days a week when you have no reason or wish to; resentment stews in your gut.

Especially now, as she’s sitting down in front of you – with that stupid fucking perpetual smirk and an undescribably huge iced coffee – and closing the lid of your laptop mid-keystroke.

“What?” You break the silence between you, not at all happy that she’s here and seizing your precious study time. And you know she can tell; she’s even enjoying your irritation – it’s evident in how she rests her jawbone on her fist while lazily swirling the straw in her coffee.

“I heard from a certain somebody that you take photos.” She preens under your gaze and leans in a fraction like she’s telling you a secret. It comes off haughty; she thinks she’s better than you, and you have no idea why she’s doing it.

That’s debatable. But what isn’t debatable is that you do take photos.

“Yeah, what of it?” The jiggling of the ice in her coffee is getting too much, and you’re this close to throwing it against her head and walking out of the cafe. At least you’d get a moment of silence while she sits in shock.

“I have some outfits to model. I want a photographer.”

“Me?” You raise an eyebrow, already put out by the idea of having to take photos of her. Not that it’d be hard. She’s gorgeous, from head to toe, quite literally the definition of photogenic. Maybe that’s the problem — it’s too easy, there isn’t a challenge for you.

“Duh. You have like… good skills or whatever, Park.” Her tone turns bored and she lets go of her straw to check on her metallic-chartreuse acrylics. They’re so long those things would fucking suck to type with. Or fuck with. Or do anything but gouge out the eyes of your enemies with.

“You’ve seen my work? I’m surprised, Uchinaga; I thought you’d only ever care about leather straps and sequins.”

“Mmh. Funny… But no, I appreciate a piece of artwork when I see one.” She examines you from your hair to where your torso ends at the height of the table. Then she lifts her coffee an inch, just enough to wrap her tongue around the straw and sip. It makes an annoyingly loud slurping noise, which is a feat considering the cup is 80% full. 

To say it pisses you off is an understatement.

“I only work for a commission. $100 an hour.”

Aeri’s eyes almost bug out, the slurp stutters and you relish in the noise, pleased that you could break her intrusive behaviour. 

“A hundred. An hour? You’re literally a student.”

“I’m literally a photographer.” The itch to grab your phone and pull up your IG account to name and gloat about how much each photo is worth is immensely strong. But you’re better than Uchinaga. That’s something that she’d do.

You can’t let her win…

And you’re better than her.

“Fuck you, I could take the pictures for free.” Her nails dig into the table and you wouldn’t be surprised if there were chips in the paint when she removes them. Fuck, those things are talons. “And that’d be like wearing a Shein shirt on a runway.” You copy her signature smirk. “Get your head out of your ass, Uchinaga. You want professional quality photos; you pay the professional price.”

“$50 an hour.” And she’s fucking turned to haggling. It’s not surprising – she’s wealthy scum. If this were France in the 1800s, you’d be breaking out the guillotine right about now.

“No thanks.” You grab your phone, shoving your laptop into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Eat shit and die, Coco Chanel.”

You make it 20 steps down the street before you can hear her heels clicking on the footpath behind you. You huff, knowing she isn’t going to call out for you. No, that’s too gaudy for her. Instead, she’ll just menacingly click behind you until she inevitably catches up at a stop light – her irritatingly long legs make her stride feel like she’s an olympian and her persistence can be equated to a bloodhound.

You whirl around, knowing that her perpetual smirk will be present, even when she’s about to grovel for you to take her back. Or something. 

“I’ll pay your stupid commission.” Her tone drawls like she’s bored, but the twitch of her brow is a sure sign of her own irritation. “Tuesday, I’ll DM you the address.” 

Then she turns and strides off without a confirmation.

At the last possible moment, she swishes her hair over her shoulder, sending you a smirk so smug that only one thing is clear.

She wins.

The address she messages you ends up being an old warehouse in a former train shed. The rails are still embedded in the concrete; its steel a dirty grey from wear. There’s a lot of light in here despite the tall corrugated iron walls and high ceiling due to the skylights and high windows. Aeri sits at a makeshift desk on one side of the shed, scribbling away in some kind of notebook as she waits for you. She’s clad in a pink robe and heels – add a sleeping mask and she’d be some kind of Blair Waldorf reincarnate. 

“Uchinaga.” You grumble, finding yourself in the position she was in last week, sitting down across from her and interrupting her work. Instead of a tall iced coffee and a smirk, there’s your short coffee cup and an expectant expression. 

She looks up to you, slight bags under her eyes and a bleary redness to them. Most notably, Aeri’s missing her usual arrogant demeanour. 

“Mmhf.” She immediately goes back to her sketch. “What the shit are you here for, Park?”

It takes you everything you have not to stab her in the eye with her pencil.

“Photos. You commissioned me.”

“It’s not Tuesday. Get the fuck out of my face.” She waves a hand fleetingly like you could float away and leave her in peace if she cared more.

“It’s Tuesday.” You even check your phone, sliding it close enough to her on the table so she can see that you’re not an idiot.

15:05.  Tuesday, 25th June.

And she reads it. 

And she stills.

And it’s quiet.

Then she narrows her eyes.

“Get your shit out then, I’m not paying you more than an hour.” She slides from her stool, stalking over to a rack of clothing. Before you can even move, she lets it drop, pooling around her feet while she flicks through the pieces.

Your mouth dries up and you can’t even move, just staring at the soft sway of her hair and ass as she searches through her clothes. Her irritatingly long legs look so much longer when the only thing stopping them are lacy black panties that are most definitely out of your budget.

The only reason you pick up your jaw and start to unpack your ‘shit’ is that Aeri swivels ever so slightly so that you can see the slight turn of her lip. She’s smirking. She’s fucking smirking.

You look around the place, grateful that the natural lighting is dramatic enough in places to get some interesting images. If Aeri wants that, of course… she hasn’t exactly made it clear what she wants. You’re extra grateful that you wouldn’t have to hike back up the street to get your lighting equipment. 

As you continue to unpack, Aeri changes. The first she shimmies into is a wide legged pair of jeans with frayed and ripped holes up the thigh. It doesn’t help. Then a tube top with a baggy tank over the top. It really doesn’t help. Especially when she passes fingers through her hair and pulls it up into a messy half-up half-down style. 

You blink and she’s apparated in front of you with a hand on her hip, her acrylics curling into the denim.

“Hurry up.”

You pop an SD card into the slot then wave her away to where she wants to begin. Aeri struts over to the side of the train shed and leans against the corrugated iron.

And it starts.

Photographing Aeri is effortless. She’s far too practised in her motions and poses. Even when she gets bored and leaves without a word to change her outfit, it’s efficient. Genuinely, you might be able to get this done in under an hour which is both a relief to your sanity and her bulging wallet (even if it wouldn’t miss the $100 note).

However, as easy as this photoshoot is going, the silence is starting to get to you. 

“Too poor to get your own models?” Apparently pissing her off is the appropriate way to fill in the quiet space. Aeri scowls and you make sure to capture a photo of it. 

So? She looks good when she’s mad.

“I prefer to do it myself. I know what angles the clothes look best at.” She points, guiding you into her next pose. “And no one knows my creative vision.”

“Yet, you trust me to photograph your creative vision.” The viewfinder fogs after your last breath. You hadn’t even realised you were using it instead of the screen. It was just a natural feeling, framing her using a more analogue method felt… right. Lowering the camera from your eye to wipe the fog, you take a second to breathe.

“...Your style. It isn’t so bad.” Aeri finally answers. Then she scowls again. “You’re slacking.”

“And you have fifteen minutes left.”

She scoffs and stalks away to swap her attire.

Wiping the viewfinder again, you put it back to your eye, checking for fog. It’s gone, but all that’s left is a half naked Aeri, perfectly framed and positioned. The line of her back draws your eye to her ass which is slightly pushed out as she bends to step into a new dress. Instinctively, you take the shot.

And then another for good measure. 

“You know I can hear the shutter, perv.” Aeri turns in the viewfinder as you snap another picture. She’s in a swampy green to black gradient which compliments her nails. You figure this is what she had them done for.

“So? Maybe you’ll enjoy these more.” She prowls closer and closer until she’s out of focus and pushing your camera down.

“What, after you rub one out to them?” She sneers, her talons piercing into the skin of your hand where it circles the camera lens.

“Like I’d ever jack off to you.”

Aeri twists the camera out of your hand, opening up the previews to look back at your photos. She keys through the half naked ones, expressionless, and starts to look through the others. 

It’s difficult to tell what she’s thinking. Usually, Aeri wears her disgust on her face, never hiding when she thinks something is complete garbage. And everything is garbage to Aeri.

She grimaces once or twice but it’s never the heavy pull of the lip or the slight scrunch of her nose that you’ve learnt to associate with her disgust.

“Even I would get off on these.” She flips the camera back to you, showing off a preview of her, mouth half open, eyes lidded and hair messy from just swapping outfits.

She does, you have to admit, look like sex on a stick. Or whatever that term is.

Aeri turns, still with your camera and clicks over to a set of chic looking beanbags – however chic a beanbag could look. She lounges down, crossing a leg over the other and lazily stares up at you. 

“Hurry up. You’re wasting my time.” She dangles the camera from its strap. You move forward immediately, reaching to snatch up your camera, your precious baby, back into your hands. 

And Aeri, being the person she is, moves it out of your grasp and above her head. Sick amusement dances across her features when she locks eyes with you. 

“I told you to fetch.”

Neither of you are budging and Aeri’s a fucking immature child. A fucking spoilt immature child. You know that by the time you skirt the beanbag’s circumference, she would move the camera back to where it was before. Her limbs are too long for you to compete with, and her smirk, her damn perpetual fucking dumb fucking smirk, is back on her lips.

Both of you know that there’s only one way for you to get your camera back.

With a clenched jaw, you settle a knee on Aeri’s left side, then her right as you hover over her body to rip the camera out of her hand.

Aeri lets go too early. The camera slides through your grasp and as you focus all your attention on grabbing the strap, Aeri flips you over to pin you against the beanbag. It’s this weird twist and grab, but your baby is safe in your hand. 

“What the fuck, Uchinaga?? Do you know how goddamn expensive this camera is? It isn’t something you can just pick up at-“ The complaint is halfway out of your mouth before it’s smothered by her lips, thick and cushioned.

The kiss is unexpected, a slight moan slipping out when she moves to reposition herself. One hand at your hip, the other sliding into your hair. Her thumb brushes against the hem of your top, lifting and taking fabric along with it until there’s a dense heat branding your skin.

It’s almost nice for a moment. You almost lose yourself in the sensation. Almost.

Aeri yanks your hair downwards, taking advantage of your gasp and forcing her tongue inside. The wet muscle glides across your own, taking its time to thoroughly explore. After an extended moment, she extracts with an audible pop!, daring to stare at you like she’s just blown your mind.

“What…” You struggle to breathe as your brows pull into a frown. “The fuck?”

“You didn’t like that?.” Her tone is blasé like she’s studying her cuticles or waiting for her damn iced coffee.

It’s not a matter of whether you enjoyed it. That, you’d never give the answer to. 

“You can’t just kiss someone when they’re saying things you don’t like! How fucking immature can you be?” 

There’s half a beat of silence, then Aeri measuredly leans forward until she’s a centimetre away. It’s with a controlled precision that you hadn’t really expected. Yes, she’s a fashion major or whatever and that causes a level of elegance, but Aeri’s always been raw and nasty in your eyes.

I mean, she just kissed you, for fucks sake!

Aeri doesn’t say anything but her mouth morphs back into that stupid fucking smirk that looks too good on her lips — you understand why she does it so much but fuck is it annoying — and your stomach twists until you find yourself closing that centimetre and rolling around to push her back against the bean bag. 

You can’t think while you’re kissing her. You can’t even ask why you’re doing this because Aeri’s hiking up your shirt and throwing it on the floor somewhere. You shiver slightly at the change in temperature and her acrylics resting on your back.

She giggles at how crazed your kisses are. In the back of your mind there’s a drifting thought about how you’re proving some point of hers right. You just can’t pin it down. It was the one about… about…? Oh, nevermind. It doesn’t matter.

It especially doesn’t matter when she shoves you off her lap. Hard. It sends you tumbling back, your butt hitting the hard concrete. The impact clears your mind immediately and you send Aeri a ‘what-was-that-for?’ glare.

Aeri leans the side of her head against her palm as she lazily smirks at you. She sits like a maniacal god controlling her creation and it pisses you off. Everything she does fucking. Pisses. You. Off.

“And that one was for…?”

“You were slobbering.” Then she waves to her desk in a careless flourish. “Bottom drawer. Hurry up.”

For a second, you debate walking out of the shed. Denying Aeri’s requests would put you down on her level of bratty pettiness; it’s only natural for you to dish it back to her. Not to mention, this is pretty fucked: You hate the woman. You think she’s rich and nasty and spoiled and far too hot to behave like she isn’t one of the nine muses.

God fucking damn it.

After a moment of rubbing your butt, you push to your feet and wander to the desk. Your camera is left on top of the desk while you squat to open the drawer and yank it open.

“…”

“You are not fucking me with a strap.”

When you turn around, you’re surprisingly not facing her smirk. It’s like a lion without a mane. Instead, Aeri is sitting there looking at you like prey.

“Whoever said I was gonna be fucking you?” She curls a finger for you to come back. It’s clear that she means now. Not in a minute, not in a second. Now.

Mindlessly you grab the harness and your camera, already with the silicon attached and you meander back to her. It’s your way of fighting back, making Aeri feel some of the irritation that follows her. When you arrive, you drop the harness in her lap with a sour expression and place the camera safely on the ground next to the beanbag.

There’s a lot you could ask. Why are we about to fuck? Did you organise all this for me to fuck you? Is this weird or kinky? Why do you have a strap in the bottom drawer of your desk? Is it sanitary? 

“Why am I doing this?” You ask instead.

Aeri hangs the harness over a finger and gives you an eye to step into it.

“Because you think I’m hot and this is your chance to get laid.”

Despite the fact that you hate admitting you’ve had a lack of partners to sleep with recently, you still step into the buckles. She sinches it over your clothed thighs, amazingly efficient despite her nails. The straps are tight but you don’t really mind.

“Come on, baby.” She coaxes you back to your position on top of her and the beanbag. When you look at her rather blankly, she rolls her eyes. 

“God, you’re more idiotic than I thought. Fucking a plushie would be better than this.”

The words are a slap to your face. Although you’re still confused as to why you’re sitting on her lap, with a strap, you find yourself getting angry again. She had that strap in her drawer – just waiting. Is this a normal thing she does? That she paid you to come and fuck her?

Aeri looks fucking pretentious like this – hair mussed, stupid smirk, stupid lips – all dolled up in a horribly vapid and careless way. Her stare sends waves of anger down to your core. It roves over your body, no doubt sizing you up, prepared to dig her nails into your arteries at the first sign of weakness. 

Or maybe the first sign of arousal.

Aeri’s right. This is your chance to get laid, and this is your chance to fuck her. In the fuck you sense, not in the… well, okay in the fuck her sense too.

You hike up her dress, struggling not to make it crinkle and crease at her waist with the thought of keeping it integral for the photoshoot, you expose her upper thighs and… and…

“Those photos really made you this wet?”

It’s obscene. Purely obscene how wet her panties are. When you look up to inspect her expression, Aeri has enough shame to have a dusting of red over her cheeks.

“You narcissist.” You sneer, pushing the strap against her clothed pussy and gliding the head over her clit. It smears your arousal on the underside of the cock, creating a sheen of wet. Apparently, it feels nice enough, good enough, that Aeri clutches onto your shoulders, sinking her nails into your skin. It draws a grunt from your chest and only helps to build your irritation.

“Stop being such a whiny bitch and fuck me.” Aeri tugs your shoulders, ensuring that her lips brush the cup of your ear while she whispers. 

Funny, how she could pretend to be in control when she was holding back her moans and twitching whenever your head bumps against the swollen nub of pleasure. For good measure, you smack it against the soaked cloth twice before deciding that you could torture her better without the layer of protection.

Aeri, on the other hand, leans back. There’s a sort of dazed smile on her lips like she’s a child being rewarded for good grades or some other menial shit. Wanting to wipe the smile off her face, you buck the strap in. 

All the way in, her wet cunt filled to the brim.

She shrieks, her nails scratching harshly down your back, almost getting a line of curses from you.

“And I’m the whiny bitch? You’re the one who wanted this.” You drag your hips back, her pussy squeezing so tight that it actually takes effort.

Moans blossom out of Aeri as you start a sturdy pace, her breasts bouncing with every snap of your hips. The squelch is loud in the warehouse, almost echoing off the walls. Deciding that she deserves a treat, you lean down to suckle under the curve of her boob.

“I bet that was all an act when I arrived.” You purr against her skin. It turns pink under your touch, hot with want. “You were in that robe on purpose, just waiting for a chance to take it off.”

Aeri shakes her head, nails biting into your back. It’s hot white pain, you realise. She’s breaking through layers of skin.

Fuck, that’s filthy. Your eyes find her cunt. The ring clenching rhythmically against the strap. It’s so clear that you could almost feel it yourself. Aeri’s cunt on your cock.

“Are you gonna say something?” She’s too quiet. You’d do anything to hear her say some prissy shit into your ear. To be bratty and deny you. “Or has this dick got you acting on your best behaviour?” 

Your hands are a mess, switching between pinching and kneading her breasts, holding yourself up (or holding Aeri down), and keeping her legs spread wide open. 

Still no answer. Maybe you’ve actually won.

A laugh bubbles up and you double your efforts, making Aeri screech and claw further down your back. She’s already started to roll her hips to meet yours. It’s messy, filthy fucking. Your clothes are crumpled, bottoms stained with her juices, making them look like you’ve wet yourself.

“You just wanted me to fuck you. God, what a slut, paying $100 for a quick fix.”

Aeri shakes her head, she’s trying to fight for her composure. “You were taking pictures of me first.”

Her words bring an idea to your mind. “Because you paid, whore. You expect me to believe you didn’t want this when your pussy is this tight around me?”

The camera you had discarded next to the beanbag. You flick it on, and yank the strap out of her cunt. It flutters indiscriminately. Aeri’s hands flash down to the strap, trying to coax it back inside, her hips scooping like if she tried hard enough she could be filled again. Focusing on the wet mess of her crotch, you manage to capture a photo.

Shiny and slick, pink, swollen with want. Her hand in the corner, wrapped around your stick cock. You can’t hold back a groan. The photo is purely pornographic. 

“Look at you.” The camera is flipped, pushed into her face. “Your slutty cunt needs this.”

Aeri’s unfocused eyes take a moment to zero in on the picture. Almost immediately, they blow out along with a filthy fucking moan.

“More.” She yanks on the strap, ungracefully grinding it on her clit. “I’m fucking paying you for photos.”

Her eyes lock onto yours. “Take. More.”

She doesn’t have to ask again.

It’s clumsy from then on out. You only have one hand to keep her legs split, one hand to hold yourself up. The other is for photos.

Anytime her cunt gushes and your head gets dizzy with arousal, you line up a picture. Anytime she sucks in a moan and you smear your thumb against her clit, you line up a picture. 

She’s so pretty and pink. You’re obsessed. Even the prickling pain of her nails sinking into skin and leaving pulsing red lines aren’t enough to make you stop.

You don’t even notice when she starts to squirm, completely and utterly overstimulated.

“Park. Fucking…” A pained moan. “Stop- Hurts.”

You snap a final picture, creamy arousal dripping down onto the beanbag, a wet spot underneath, big enough that she’d have to wash the entire thing to cover it up.

Aeri pushes a foot into your stomach, forcing your centre of gravity off place and pushing you onto your butt. The strap pops out of her hole and she slaps a hand to her mouth, muffling a cry.

Her cunt is swollen, creamy and so so so pinky raw. It’s impossible for you not to scramble back to your knees, one hand already pulling her folds apart to get the best shot.

The shutter clicks and it’s stored away in the memory card forever.

Then there’s a breath of air and you loosen the harness, letting it drop to the floor. 

Hypothetically, not that you had thought about this before, you would have pushed Aeri over and found some part of her body to grind out your own orgasm on. It was only fair — 1-1.

But you don’t feel the need to. It was relieving just to get her to shut up for a moment and let you take all semblance of control. Even if it meant she was 1-0. Plus, you hadn’t even noticed when she had finally cummed on the strap.

Fucked that you were letting Aeri not pay you back. Then again, $100 was payment enough.

Oh.

Your phone is empty of notifications when you pull it from your pocket, but the time blinks back at you. 

16:07.

You can’t help the bark of laughter that falls out. It’s past the hour. Another paycheck for you.

“What are you laughing at?” Aeri’s mumbles are clear enough for you to decipher. She lifts her head just enough to let you glimpse her half-lidded eyes.

Crawling back, you shove the phone in her face.

“Seven past.” You grin. It takes a moment before she groans, sinking her head back into the beanbag.

1-1.

You win.

NOTE: is this finished? mmhhhhhhhh not really (i was gon write them fucking another round but i wasn't horny enough rah rah blah blah) goddamn it

[satorhime]

on the ground ˚₊· gojo satoru + nanami kento. ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : : f!reader, explicit smut, threesome + cuckholding, reader n gojo r in an established relationship, public foreplay (on an empty train), oral sex (m + f receiving), face sitting, spanking, degradation, teasing, praise, fingering, handjobs, double penetration (sort of), unprotected sex, size kink, creampie, cum play, squirting, snowballing, messy nasty smut w / lots of pet names lol ･｡･ w.c. 15.6k.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis & notes : nanami is awarded his apology, and more. part two of off the table, but can be read as a standalone. + ໒꒰ྀི ⸝⸝⸝⸝ ꒱ྀིა ⊹ omg omg i finally, FINALLY completed this fic. i struggled a lot with the direction i wanted this story to go in, but i'm finally satisfied and can share it with everyone. i hope you enjoy it & expect errors because it's an absolute chunk of words. thank u 2 @fushisslut for beta reading <333

nanami kento is out of his mind. 

you see, he must be. that’s the only reasonable explanation for his behavior tonight. when people perceive him, they see him as a stable man with a level head on his shoulders. they take in the pristine cut of his designer suits, the glimmer of his luxury wristwatch, and they can’t help but see the prime example of a professional jujutsu sorcerer. his technique isn’t a lightshow to impress others, but consists of preordained, calculated mathematics for him to achieve the best results in a fight. even the higher ups trust him more because they’re soothed by his polite speech, strategic outlook, and solid reliability— because he can be summed up into one safe, khaki-colored box that will never pose a threat to their way of order, even if he disagrees with it. 

normal. standard. boring. 

but every sorcerer has a flaw, a trigger nestled deep inside of them just waiting to spring them into insanity. it can be anything, really— a fight with a formidable opponent or your favorite coffee shop getting your morning order wrong on a bad day. nanami’s own flaw is a crack in the perfect design of his foundation that can be exploited way too easily if you know where to look for it. 

and gojo satoru knows the exact location. 

while nanami has tried his best to ignore the tension crackling like a steady current between you and him, satoru sees everything. his crush on you is obvious though. written all over his handsome expression when you simply smile at him or your shoulders brush in a crowded meeting room and nanami makes the mistake of looking down to snap at you to give him space, only to be enraptured by the sight of your pretty face and lower, the print of your cute little nipples pressing through the thinner fabric of your tight sorcerer’s uniform. his ears pinkening up like strawberry syrup swirled on top of milk. 

the fact that he jolts awake almost every night from wet dreams about you, cock dripping wet in his briefs can’t be written on his face, but it happens. making him feel adolescent, green as fresh grass, when he has to slip a hand into his underwear and fuck against his dry palm with your name whispered desperately on his tongue until he cums, messy and full of shame, all over his belly. 

nanami kento’s weakness is a woman off limits. 

perhaps gojo should feel possessive and territorial that another man has such blatant feelings for his pretty girlfriend, but gojo feeds it like cupid with a heart-shaped arrow. only feeling like a winner in the long game he plays. and tonight, well, tonight is living proof of that. 

right now, you’re strolling ahead of nanami with gojo’s long arm thrown lazily around your shoulders. the three of you are heading leisurely towards the train station, as if you’re like everyone else out on a weekend night— casual colleagues walking home together after a boring company outing.

the city at this hour is alive, a kaleidoscope of movement and bright, twinkling energy. usually, nanami would enjoy a walk like this under the starlit night, tilt his head up and inhale the fresh breeze as he walks the long way home to unwind after a long shift but he just can’t, not tonight. not when he’s strung out and so fucking hyperfocused on your every move. not when the noise from the neon billboards flash loud advertisements, bustling shopfronts, and drunken giggles from twenty-somethings stumbling out of upscale bars washes away all rational thought from nanami’s skull until all he can think about is you.

it’s humiliating. his self-control over his own actions is usually adamant, an indomitable shell around his being that should have kept him from giving in to his desire to fuck all traces of gojo satoru from your body, but how can he really resist it? he should have known better than to get up from that table and follow the two of you home, but it’s too late to turn back now. especially when the colorful streetlights illuminate your frame to him, the late night breeze stirring the flowy hem of your expensive little cocktail dress— giving him a flash of the supple swell of your naked ass cheeks, panties still tucked away in gojo’s pocket. 

gritting his teeth, nanami tries to look away but he’s locked in. picking up on the slight limp in your walk instead— no doubt from the rough way gojo fingerfucked you under the table earlier. the memory of desperate tears glazing over your big doe eyes as you pleaded for them both, begging nanami to give you permission to cum, twists a serrated knife into the mass of hot arousal already simmering in the pit of his gut. 

you’ve got him entranced, just like that, staring at the soft jiggle of your ass until gojo notices and kisses his teeth, smoothing the hem of your dress down in mock chivalry as he glances back at nanami with a bright sparkle in his quicksilver blue eyes, blackout sunglasses slid low on his pretty nose and grinning with those fanged incisors gleaming in the moonlight like a predator.

god, nanami hates the way his mouth runs dry at that look. 

“it’s just like old times, eh?”

 gojo leers out as soon as the three of you pile onto the train. his crude vocals are too loud, slashing through the quiet to bounce against the big metal walls. blinding fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting an eerie green glow. 

“i don’t know what you’re referring to, gojo-san,” nanami lies breezily, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the headache forming behind his brow at the teasing sound of gojo’s voice. “if you could please be quiet now.” 

oh, but nanami knows exactly what the other man is referring to, doesn’t he? the unique moments in life when gojo satoru and nanami kento operated on the same wavelength. younger days before nanami left for university abroad at copenhagen, drunken nights in the dorm at jujutsu high after tough missions. dares and childish games that led to beer-flavored spit swapped between giggling peers. a lost bet. nanami never backing down from a challenge. suguru dutifully filming with a cracked flip phone as gojo mouthed down the length of nanami’s cock— 

he was a madman for playing gojo satoru’s games then, and he definitely is one now. 

“what’s like old times?” you pipe up with a question, breaking through nanami’s thoughts. your head bobbles between the two men rudely leaving you out of the conversation, confusion wrinkling your pretty features. “what are you two whispering about?” 

nanami grits his jaw, refusing to elaborate, but gojo huffs out the beginning of a chuckle and parts his lips to answer you. be it for dick, pussy, or spilling secrets better left buried, he can never keep his mouth shut, can he?

“mmm, nothing you need to worry that pretty head about tonight, angel,” he shrugs, a lazy smirk settling on his pink lips. the threads of patronization laced through his words makes you even more curious, though. “we’re just reminiscing.” 

his long arm curves around your neck after that, tugging you towards him. bending his head down to press his nose against your hair affectionately, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in a gentle kiss obviously meant to disarm your questions. 

and of course, it doesn’t work. 

“oh, i see,” you nod, like you’ve cracked the code. eyes fluttering down into narrowed slits at the both of them. “you two shared many women before like this, have you? is that what you’re talking about?” 

it doesn’t sound like an accusation. after all, you know how experienced your boyfriend’s appetite is, but the words come out a little more bitter than you intend. satoru quirks a snowy brow, still gleaming his signature grin. how would you react if you knew their truth, their history? 

“we have not,” that was kento, finally speaking up to clarify when it’s his reputation on the line, earnestly hoping that you’ll drop the subject. 

“but we’ve shared each other,” and that was satoru, cupping his hand to your ear like he’s spilling a juicy little scandal. 

“o-oh-” 

whatever answer you expected, it wasn’t that. 

your mouth opens to ask another question, but a safety recording cuts the conversation short before the train lurches forward, speeding out of the station. soon, you’re out in the city— skyscrapers and bright lights blurring past the windows at breakneck speed. 

gojo’s cue now that you’re temporarily sealed away from civilization. 

he leans against a pole, smirking against your hair. his hand caresses a path down your front slowly, and you momentarily forget how to breathe, sucking in your tummy because it’s starting again— his nasty fucking game. 

and for the first time, there is a third player. 

“remember the last time you tired putting your hand up my skirt on a train, gojo satoru?” you remind him as his hand begins to slither into the cleavage of your dress, disappearing under the fabric to shamelessly cup one of your breasts, giving it a gentle knead and making you bite down on a gasp. “not to mention, there’s cctv right there-” 

“how was i supposed to know there was an officer right across from us?” 

“you literally have the six eyes, satoru.” 

“shut up.” he huffs. “what are you so worried for anyway? we’re alone, and that guy won’t tell anyone what we’ve been up to. he wants you just as much as i do, right nanamin?” 

“i was under the impression you invited me back to your home, not to get arrested,” nanami retorts dryly, but his tone is a complete contradiction to the look in his honey brown eyes. he is staring across the train car at you with so much open lust, his intensive gaze simmers heat all the way underneath the surface of your skin, making you squirm even more. it’s that look in his eyes alone, like he wants to ruin you for your own boyfriend, that makes each move of gojo’s a little more than proprietorial. a farewell to his darling baby before he auctions you up for the taking. 

only, he surely intends on taking you back at the end of the night because you belong to him. but only after he checks off a certain box— after he burns the vision of you getting fucked on another man’s cock while he watches into his temporal lobe. 

“i’m not worried about nanami-san,” you frown, rolling your eyes, “i’m worried about the cctv.” 

“i’ll handle it,” he promises, his voice dark and low. he kisses your ear with a whisper that sends a hot shudder down the curve of your spine. “why don’t you go and greet nanami properly while i do, sweet girl? he’s over there all by himself.” 

your head whips around, eyes wide at his suggestion. nothing can really surprise you about the six-foot-three smirking egomaniac you’re dating at this point. that limp in your walk, the cooling slick still coating your sticky thighs from your last orgasm, and your missing pair of ruined panties are a testament to his want to fuck you in every location, in every way possible. to etch his mark into the world that stands at his feet, one drop of cum at a time. 

even if it means offering you up to nanami kento like a sacrificial lamb plump and ready for the slaughter. 

and you? you’re perfectly fine with being a sacred contribution left at his alter. 

“or are you scared?” gojo wonders, glancing over at the other man.

it’s not just a meaningless taunt. both you, and nanami can hear the weight behind the question. it’s a chance to back out. a consent form. he may be a greedy, overpowered sorcerer with an insatiable love for dirty fucking but he respects nanami, and he respects you above all else. you’re the love of his life, a little piece of his soul living outside of his body, and he knows how many steps he can take outside of the box before he runs into boundaries. and though you never back down from one of his challenges, though your mind is honey coated in lust, you lift your gaze to the ex-salaryman and you consider him, one final time. 

anyone with a pair of eyes can appreciate the beauty in nanami kento. he is all sharp contours and deep tenor. timeless handsomeness that reminds you of an old money heartthrob from the sixties, or a classic comic book hero. nanami may be the complete opposite of your boyfriend, austere and jaded, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him, that you did not enjoy the steadiness of conversations with him and the few, ill-delivered dry jokes he indulges in from time to time. perhaps it was the throb in your clit convincing you, or the memory of him demanding you be a good girl and cum for them both back at the restaurant, but god, you fucking wanted him.

no, you wanted them both, and you would deal with your shame for it in the daylight hours.  

“don’t you know me at all, gojo satoru?” you finally break the silence with a confident smile, making gojo snort at you before he shoves you off the deep end— hands on your shoulders to nudge you into stepping across the train car until you stop in front of nanami. 

he is the only one sitting down, watching you approach with that stoic expression of his. at first glance, he looks utterly unimpressed, but you should have known better as your legs bump his spread knees and you glance down, getting a glimpse of the outline of his hard cock bulging against the tight inseam of his khaki slacks. 

your breath shortens into a needy pant. wondering what it would feel like weighing your tongue down after you’ve wriggled him out of that boring designer suit of his? or how much it would make your hips ache as it stretched your cunt out until you soak gojo’s expensive sheets down to the last thread? 

warmth blooms over the skin of your cheeks as his sharp eyes follow your line of sight. he quirks an amused brow, catching your shameless stare locked on his lap. he barely shifts under the attention, no slouch in the posture he holds with an easy confidence. “didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare at a cock you don’t plan to sit on, young lady?” 

“who says i don’t plan to sit on it, nanami-san?” you mouth off, even as your knees weaken under the weight of his authoritative tone. you hear gojo scoff in amusement, still leaning against that pole, arms still folded as he watches the scene unfold— playing out just how he wants it. 

“you’re still standing, obviously,” he points out, and how he makes such simple words sound like honey spread over velvet you don’t know, but the deep, flat timbre of his monotone flutters a lick of arousal through your belly. 

“do you want me to?” 

“come here and sit, back facing to me,” he instructs, gesturing to his lap. he doesn’t even think about putting his hands on you, no matter how desperately he wants to, letting you build up the courage to obey someone new. instead, he unfastens the buttons on his blazer slow, one by one, before removing his goggles and tucking them away into an inner breast pocket. sandy hair tinted slightly green under the lighting in the train as he waits for you. it isn’t easy for him to fight the more reckless part of himself when you’re standing there, staring at him like this, and he’ll be ashamed tomorrow to say that he didn’t even try. “well?” 

behind you, gojo wears a dangerous smirk. temple of his skull resting against the cold steel of the balance pole, content to watch his girlfriend climb into the lap of another man. you’re thankful that the subway car the three of you are in is deserted. you had kept your head down when satoru shamelessly flicked his wrist at the mechanical sliding doors as other passengers tried to board, slamming it shut in their confused faces and twisting the metal into a makeshift lock with cursed energy so that no one else is around to witness what you’re doing. 

you settle until your back meets nanami’s firm chest, your heart beating erratically. the sorcerer’s muscled arm feels warm through the sleeves of his tailored jacket as he wraps it around your torso, pulling you securely against him. embarrassment makes you shy as you realize that you’re sitting on your coworker’s lap with no panties on underneath your dress, his wide stance forcing your thighs to spread— rucking your dress up past your hips and exposing your pretty pussy to gojo’s twinkling gaze. 

“the cctv-” 

gojo nods, and you whimper softly as he shifts to stand a little taller, smartly placing his massive stature in front of the camera embedded in the beam above your heads. “that’s that,” he claps, then he lifts a brow, “oi, oi. you gonna take all night? our stop is next.” 

“not everyone is quick as you, gojo-san,” nanami snorts at his own little joke before he dips his head, pressing his nose to your pulse point. his eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he breathes in a gust of your perfume. scented like ruination, supple like forbidden fruit laid over his lap— he can’t resist pressing his lips to your neck first, his veined hand cupping your face, thick fingers curled under your chin to guide your head in his direction afterwards. “she deserves my patience.” 

“tch.” gojo rolls his eyes.

nanami has always been a quiet man. he doesn’t speak unless spoken to and barely then, refusing to make idle small talk and declining offers to mingle after work with his colleagues, but you know what he wants without words. your own fingers move, brushing over the buzzed wisps of hair at the nape of his neck as he parts his lips. tender in the way he finally tastes you, in the way he suckles your plump lower lip into his mouth.

you’re unfamiliar, but your kiss feels decadent to him and already, he’s determined to learn you. how many times had he lost focus in a meeting, wondering how you would feel on his lips, his tongue, his cock? the blond sorcerer presses his thumb against the middle of your cheek, keeping your jaw parted so that he can pet his tongue over yours until you gasp desperately into his mouth. 

the kiss is slower than what you’re used to, but nanami gives you passion, even though he’s a stranger to your body— a scene that your boyfriend watches with hungry, almost envious eyes. you can feel the burn of his stare from across the metal car. seeing you writhe all over his kouhai’s lap, twisting your fingers in his short hair, sucking his lower lip into your mouth, makes hot need churn in the pit of gojo’s gut to take his place.

he’s supposed to be blocking the cctv, but he can’t help it. before he knows it, he’s crossing the space of the train in a few strides, taking a seat next to you and nanami. 

you jolt when you feel the familiar weight of satoru’s big hand splay out over your thigh. heart beating erratically. saliva coating your lips and you whine because you’re desperate for more, but you don’t have to wait long. 

“my turn, sugar,” satoru grins, tucking a finger under your chin to pull your head away from nanami and towards him.

you go to him easily, no care at all that the security cameras are watching you bounce between the two men and their touches. letting your boyfriend smooth your hair away from your face before he cups your cheeks, sparks dancing down your spine as he kisses you insistently, urging you immediately into a hungrier slide of your lips against his own. 

“oh,” you sigh, and satoru shushes you with his wet tongue between your lips. he loves tonguing you down, leaving you breathless with the hunger he feels for you. sweetness of the dinner wine he spit into your mouth earlier lingers in the kisses he gives you.

it’s easy to get lost in him, to bathe in the attention when someone like gojo satoru is willing to give it to you. you’re so lost in his kiss that you almost miss the sound of nanami’s sudden, muted groan; a needy throb pulsing between the seam of your cunt as you realize you’ve been squirming over his lap without meaning to, the hard weight of his clothed cock pressing snug between your bare ass cheeks, the tip rubbing against your clit. 

“this isn’t the place for that. be still.” 

“but i want to.” 

nanami grunts in the back of his throat as you ignore him, plush hips swiveling down, grinding against the sensitive head of his cock beneath his khakis, his rough fingers squeezing your thigh desperately in reprimand. 

“can’t handle her already, nanami?” gojo taunts in a drawl, redirecting his kisses down your neck affectionately so that nanami can claim your lips again. they’re swollen, bitten by kisses, strawberry rouge smudged and ruined as they build a routine, taking turns sharing your kiss, stealing the breath out of your lungs to draw into their own.

you know that comparisons are against the natural rules of a threesome, but you can’t help yourself. they touch you so differently, vintage and brand new— opposites like the burning rays of the summer sun and the cool beams of the moon during winter, but their intensity is the same. 

satoru... satoru kisses like a man out of time because love has a habit of being snatched out of his hands, and life is fleeting in the world you live in and he needs to show you just how much he feels for you before it’s too late. he’s impatient and a little forceful, digging prints into your skin, leaving marks and love bites that sting in the aftermath— so you’ll never forget him, he thinks. he’s not shy, never ashamed to touch you in the middle of a crowd because your taste is just that fucking sweet to him and he won’t waste a minute of time he has with you. you can always feel his desperation, the urgency to prove his devotion embedded into each, skilled kiss. 

and then there’s kento, who kisses like he’s stopping to appreciate a masterpiece in a museum. there should not be so much reverence in his touch, not when you belong to someone else and he’s just an extra in your movie, the thrill of the hour for a sexually adventurous couple— but he is unhurried and thorough in the face of your greediness. feeding you by hand what he wants you to have. if you surge forward to take what you want, he counters and nips the tip of your nose in a bite that startles you, that makes you giggle, leaving you soft as putty in his grasp. and when he kisses you . . . when he kisses you it feels like he alone can stop the hand of the clock itself. as if he’s got all the time in the world, even though he is a man who only has the pleasure of your body for one night. 

if he can survive a train ride with you, that is. 

“stop moving.” 

“pretty please, nanami-san. i need jus’ a little... jus’-” you plea, and despite his warning, you plant your heels on the edge of the train seat. leverage to grind your pussy over the weighty print of his cock. back and forth, choking on little whines against nanami’s lips while satoru kisses at your collarbone and stares between your thighs. it’s frustrating to have nanami sitting there under you with a barrier in the way, the friction a tantalizing itch that makes you want to dissolve into sobs. you can hardly find it in yourself to care that you’re wetting the fabric of his pristine clothes with the sticky arousal dripping out of your little hole as you angle your hips down, dragging your clit over the cool zipper of his pants. 

“you want it that badly? you’ll writhe all over my cock, on a train no less, with your boyfriend sitting right next to you? you should be ashamed,” nanami tuts, reeling back to press his voice to your ear. “but there, there. i’ll give you something proper to rub on.”

“that’s not fair ‘cause you told me to sit, mmfgh-” you pout in petulant protest, nanami’s words causing your skin to blister under the heat of them, but satoru cuts you off once more by suckling your lower lip, grinning a little when you choke on a whine.

though the ex-salaryman’s tone burns a lick of shame down your arching back, one of his hands hitch up to your breasts to soothe the sting, squeezing the soft flesh through the fabric of your silky dress. and then, his other hand fondles your thigh and you inhale because he’s so fucking close— rough, calloused fingers slipping along the joint of your hip to brush over your mound. 

“here it is,” he announces, pressing his wet mouth to your cheek, reveling in the whimper you give him as he pushes a stiff thumb against your clit, pressing it down hard. keening, your hips twitch forward eagerly. his finger doesn’t offer much friction, but you rut against the palm anyway until he draws his middle finger down, spreading your folds and swirling an unhurried circle around your entrance, causing your breath to fan out of your chest in a rush.  “don’t be shy about it. rub against my finger and let satoru watch.” 

satoru isn’t interested in just watching though. 

he takes your hand and guides it to his clothed crotch first, a ruined moan punching out of his chest when you immediately wrap your fingers around the outline of his cock. it’s hard against your palm, and though the angle is awkward, you make due; rubbing your hand over him until his hips jerk up off the seat. as a reward, you feel satoru’s index finger join kento’s between your thighs, rubbing figure eights into your wet, puffy clit. you have to squirm helplessly between the two men playing with you like a pretty doll. delighted sounds leaving gojo’s lips as he mouths at your breast, flicking his tongue over your clothed nipple until the front of your dress is damp with spit. 

all three of you know that this is going too far. that the two men are devouring you in the middle of an empty train car, and you need to stop this before the security camera records any more of your sins. but how can you, when gojo pinches your clit at the same time nanami dips the very tip of his finger inside you, a low groan rumbling from his throat at the way you greedily squeeze around the thick digit, wanting to suck him in further. he clenches his jaw, staving off a groan. knowing you’ll feel so fucking heavenly around his cock when he spades you on it—

but just as the both of them are about to give you what you want, push two long fingers into your needy cunt, rub soreness into your clit until you cry, the train screeches to a slow, metallic stop at the next station. you startle, eyes flying wide open in mild panic as the doors prepare to slide open. 

“oh, well, i do believe this is our stop,” satoru says nonchalantly like he’s back to pulling the strings, like he wasn’t about to fucking cry at being interrupted when all he wants to do is make you cum again. whistling the melody to one of your favorite songs as he dips in to press one last kiss to your cheek before he stands up, stretching his arms overhead to pop stiff joints. “if you two are finished giving the security guard material to fuck himself with during his shift, let’s go.” 

the air is thick with cloying tension, oppressive enough that you can hear the ragged breathing from both sorcerers. once you exit the train, you know what’s waiting for you. your belly lurches in delicious anticipation at the mere thought of it.

gojo satoru fucks like a god and that’s when he is alone. his competitive streak will have him trying to ruin you, not satisfied until you’re fucked out and bruised and crying, with another man sharing the field. and nanami... nanami kento is an enigma, a paradox you could have never pictured agreeing to share a woman for the night with someone he is seemingly annoyed by all day, all night.

but proper, orderly men like him have a tendency of harboring the darkest desires of them all, and you have a feeling discovering what they are tonight means having trouble getting out of bed the next morning with stiff thighs and an aching cunt. 

“are you alright?” nanami murmurs, as cordial as ever. he barely seems affected at all, except for the unsteady hitch in his breathing— and, of course, the fact that his cock is dripping uncomfortably wet against the too-tight fabric of his briefs. his hand abandons you, sliding around to smooth your dress down before he sets you to your feet on the floor. 

nodding, you step forward on shaky legs, and satoru stretches out his hand for you to take. but before you follow him this time, through the automated doors and onto the platform, you look back and offer a hand to the 7:3 sorcerer with a grin that nanami knows you had to have picked up from satoru. 

“coming, nanami-san?” you repeat gojo’s words from earlier, offering yourself up to them both for the night. 

nanami huffs out a snort, glancing down at his fingers in consideration. the thick digits still glisten with your glossy cum under the fluorescents, the knot in his throat bobbing with starvation. he feels insane for crossing a boundary and getting involved with gojo satoru again (and now... now, you) but he’s lost all fucking sense, all self control at this point. any other day, he would be too dignified to even bring a woman home after a date but tonight, he raises his fingers to his mouth to suckle them clean without ever taking his eyes off of you before he dries them on a handkerchief, ever the gentleman. god, he wants to weep at the taste of your pussy on his tongue, but he stands to his full height and curls those long digits around your waiting hand instead. 

“after you.” 

gojo’s penthouse in shinjuku is dark and chilly when the three of you walk inside. nanami doesn’t pay much attention to the living space as he trades loafers for guest slippers with pandas printed on the top at the door, but he feels out of place when he finally does glance around.

nanami never had any reason to think about gojo satoru’s living situation or interior decorating skills, but he’s surprised at how... human it looks.

to him, gojo is a curse. a curse that he respects, tolerates, and trusts, but a thorn in his side nonetheless. it is a childish thought, but he had expected to find the space to be as annoying as he is during the day. though it was obviously a bachelor pad meant for a man who never intended on settling down, there are signs of you all over it, turning it into a real home.

he passes by polaroids decorated with stickers and framed photos of you with his students at the beach in okinawa, presumably snapped by satoru himself. pastel pillows and plushies mismatch with the cool design of deep sea blue and sleek black furniture. he has to avert his eyes with a disbelieving scoff when you hurry past him to snatch one of your bras off the back of the couch, as if you and your freak of nature boyfriend didn’t invite him back here for one reason and one reason only. 

“are you hungry, nanami-san?” you ask suddenly to shatter the ice, glancing around the apartment nervously. you’re trying, okay? how are you supposed to know how to start a threesome with your colleague? “i, uh- i know you didn’t get to finish your meal at the restaurant and i’m not the best cook, but oh-! we do have leftover takeout in the fridge-” 

“what she means,” gojo begins, clucking his tongue at your awkward hospitality, not phased in the least bit when you shoot him a murderous glare that could level a city, “is to ask if you’re ready to finish what you started on the train. she’s wet for you- i bet she wants to know how different your fingers feel from mine when they’re fucking her.” 

he pauses with meaning, letting it hang in the air like a fat, full moon, grin widening as he drags that salacious blue gaze down right to nanami’s crotch. “how different something else of yours feels too.” 

“you are unbelievably crude.” 

“why don’t we show nanami to the bedroom?” gojo suggests, eyes on you now. you have no choice but to nod, a nervous bubble trapping your words inside of your throat. you spin around, heading down the long hallway and to the main bedroom, your red bottoms clicking against the lacquered marble floors. 

the entire penthouse stands for what being the precious scion of jujutsu society can buy you in a rich city. gojo’s bedroom is nearly the same size as the main living area itself, an open space with high ceilings, glass walls, and warm amber lighting. the furniture is sparse so as to not overwhelm his senses. there is a sitting area of chairs by the big glass windows that display a perfect view of tokyo’s glittery skyline, and a california king bed sits focal in the middle of the room, the memory foam mattress dressed with expensive bamboo sheets the color of rich chocolate.

it’s all familiar to you, a second home, but when the doors shut behind the three of you and you’re truly alone with them, the presence of two powerful sorcerers watching your every move, their lust humming around your body in a chokehold and threatening to devour you whole, makes you feel like you’re walking into this room for the first time.

as expected, gojo wastes no time when the doors are closed. he closes the space between the two of you, pressing the lean line of his stature against your back. you welcome him happily, desperate for his actual touch and not the teasing he does when he wants to make you cry. he lowers his head, pressing featherlight, open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder that earns him the tilt of your head to allow him more access, eyelids fluttering shut as he reaches the junction of your neck. 

“satoru...” you breathe out his name in the softest of sighs, and he makes a sound that he hears you— wrapping an arm under your breast as he bares down with his teeth, sucking a bruise into your skin while his fingers pinch the zipper of your dress. dragging it down until the fabric crumples to the floor and you’re the first one completely naked. 

“is this the real reason you took me to dinner with you, gojo satoru? to get me out of my dress?” 

“i don’t know what you mean, princess,” he says, and then he twists your body around to face him. cobalt blue orbs drinking down the sight of your naked body, darkening as he watches the way your nipples stiffen under the cold blast of air from the vents overhead. “i can get you out of your dress anytime i want.”

nanami almost rolls his eyes, but finds the restraint not to. he has enough confidence to make himself at home, too, while gojo undresses you. removing his blazer, he folds it neatly over the back of an armchair before moving to the silver drink cart on the other side of the bedroom where your boyfriend keeps alcohol he is too lightweight to actually consume, but you can feel his attention on you even though he makes himself scarce.

“are we being rude?” you whisper, only for satoru’s ears as he thumbs over one of your nipples, swallowing dryly. satoru follows your line of sight to nanami, and scoffs as if you’re being ridiculous.

“don’t worry about him right now. he knows what to do and he’ll come over when he’s ready. look at me.” gojo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze up and forcing you to look up into the twin pools of his blue eyes. at the sight of your plush body, his chest becomes so tight with want that it takes every last ounce of his self restraint to not flip you over, press you into the mattress, and split you on his cock. “that’s it. keep those pretty eyes on me.” 

“attention hog,” you roll your eyes. 

“gonna be a brat in front of our guest?” he hums, backing up until he sits on the edge of the bed. legs spread so that you can settle in between them. even though you’re no stranger to being naked in front of satoru, you feel exposed with the other man in the room. it doesn’t help that nanami is so quiet and observant— the sharp cut of his stare prickling against your skin from where he stands at the window, sipping dry scotch from the glass he poured himself. just knowing that he is waiting to make his move has your cunt pulsing with need, sweat beading along your hairline. 

hands resting on gojo’s shoulders, you lift a leg and climb into his lap. his hands drop down to gather the seat of your ass into his palms— shamelessly kneading the fat roughly between his fingers before delivering an open-handed smack that’s so fucking hard it gnashes your teeth together, your cunt clenching desperately around emptiness.

“o-oh-! what was that for-”

“for neglecting me all night,” he whines, and brings his hand down once more— quick, dirty slaps to your ass that bounces off the hollow walls of his bedroom until tears spring to your eyes, a bittersweet mixture of pain and pleasure that you love. “for holding out on me. not letting me fuck you on top of that table where everyone could’ve watched. for being a smartass.”

“dirty old exhibitionist.” 

“damn right,” he grins, like a madman. edging back on the bed and dragging you with him until you’re straddling his hips now. his cock pressing deliciously up against your pussy through his slacks and somehow, you’re no further in getting what you want than you were back on that fucking train. it frustrates you, knowing that he would rather tease you out than let you sit on it. but you know that satoru is good for it, and the only thing you can do right now is grind your hips down in a slow circle, rubbing a sticky spot into his designer slacks. 

“there’s just no satiating you, is there?” he sighs, one hand leaving your ass. thumb dipping between your folds to brush over your clit, the little nub oversensitive, puffy with need, and you squirm at his fleeting touches. “sit on my tongue then, huh? been dying to taste this pretty pussy all night long, angel.” 

“but i want-” your lips part to whine, but gojo sweeps in to kiss you quickly, sucking your bottom lip against his warm tongue that shushes your protests so quickly, it’s embarrassing. 

“you want my cock in you, i know,” he drawls, as if he feels sympathetic for you— as if he’s your liberator and not your executioner. this is nothing for him. oh, he’s plenty aroused. been aching to be buried in your cunt since the beginning of the night, but he could tease you for hours with his relentless touches and mocking words because it’s that much better. he’s a giver, and your pussy is so much sweeter to him when he’s got you swollen with need, cheeks streaked in tears. “or maybe . . . maybe you’re begging for nanami’s now?” 

you feel your heart flip, and you’ll never really get used to the feeling of knowing that you’re here, agreeing to get fucked out by your boyfriend and your colleague and they’re both denying you. head spinning into a dizzy twirl with arousal as you squirm over satoru’s clothed cock, desperate for friction. you try to bat your eyelashes, make it pretty, make him relent into skipping steps. “want you both, ‘toru. need you both. i’ve been so good for you, right? i deserve it.” 

“you deserve it, baby. and you’ll have us. after you sit on my tongue.” he says, adamant in this. 

“ugh!” 

gojo is so nonchalant about it, waiting expectantly for you. despite how confident you are in your sex life with him, it’s one of those positions that you’ve always been a little too shy to do often, but it’s hard to even think about refusing the skill of his mouth when he looks like that.

he’s reclining on the bed now, propped up on one elbow with those pretty summer eyes smoldering under wintery lashes and the peaks of his snowy hair falling over his forehead. pressed shirt all wrinkled now with the buttons popped open so that you can see glimpses of his strong chest and the ridges of his toned abs— just beckoning for a pretty girl like you to crawl up his broad chest and smother his face with your plump thighs and intoxicating scent. 

“what if i smother you?” you try one last time but the words sound ridiculous to even you.

“dare you to try,” he taunts, bravado on full volume but he squeezes the flesh of your thigh in reassurance as he reads between the lines of your words; catches the real meaning. “you shouldn’t worry about that, angel. i can take it. know why?” 

“not this again-” 

“know why?” he insists, like a bratty child.

you roll your eyes, but an endearing smile cuts through the thread of anxiety worming its way into your confidence. gojo’s talkative nature isn’t always annoying— sometimes, he knows exactly the right thing to say. “because you’re the strongest?” 

“that’s my girl. now get up here already. nanami is getting impatient.” 

nodding, you listen to him. inching up his body until your thighs cage in the handsome angles of his face, those striking azures glittering like gems between your legs as he smirks up at you like he’s got the best seat in the fucking house when in reality, it’s you. 

you screw your eyes shut as gojo leans forward, bracing yourself for that first warm lick of his tongue over your sensitive nerves— 

but instead of putting his mouth on you, the sorcerer presses his nose right up against your mound and takes a long, lewd whiff of your pussy— the sweet and sour musk of your slick clinging to the curls at your mound, filling his nostrils with a heady scent that makes a hoarse whine stumble out of his chest. 

“you’re so gross, satoru! behave-” you squeal, reaching down to tug painfully at the messy white strands of hair on his head, but the twinge of pain that shoots through his skull only causes him to grunt even more in pleasure. 

“and you smell like heaven, angel.” his nose nudges against your clit as he licks a long, rough stripe up the length of your slit. he’s not surprised that you taste as sweet as you smell either— you always do. sticky honey smearing all over the inner parts of your thighs and he makes sure it coats his tastebuds just as good too, appeasing your pretty cunt with starter flits that makes you grow hot. 

one of his hands trail up your tummy, landing right on one of your tits. he twists your nipple between the rough pad of his thumb, a whimper choking off at the base of your throat at the pinch.

pleasure blooms slow between your hips. it’s so gentle, so deceiving that you almost forget who you’re fucking. gojo satoru is never really gentle . . . sometimes he forgets you’re not as strong as him, that you can fall apart at the seams if he fucks you the right way. he’s just warming up, and you fall for it every time. relaxing into his grasp, a rabbit ensnared. letting him lick you into submission, and by the time you begin to squirm, intending to run from his oncoming onslaught, your boyfriend is locking you into place with his strong arms roping around your thighs. 

giving you no choice in it but to curl your fingers around the headboard in front of you and endure another round of the cruel pleasure awaiting you. 

“f-fuck, i could drink you dry,” he whispers under his breath, the low rumble of his baritone muffled by the press of your puffy pussy smooshed against his full lips, the vibrations tightening your hips with stinging jolts of arousal. 

you’re still so sensitive, gummy and docile in his grasp. body too tense and unable to move as gojo’s sadistic streak kicks in and takes advantage of your weakened state. he stiffens the tip of his tongue to a hard point, wriggling it right under the hood of your clit where he laps over the oversensitive, used nerves before suctioning the nub into his mouth so tight that you can feel the pull in the veins underneath. it burns. it’s everything. heat seething molten in the pit of your tummy, behind the skin of your clit, up the base of your spine. 

“gentle... s-satoru, gentle. i’m so sensitive-” 

“take it for me, baby. just for a little while.” 

gojo satoru eats pussy like it’s his breakfast of champions, like he’ll lose his mind and wage wars on the streets of tokyo if he doesn’t begin every morning and end every night with his snowy head buried between your thighs. he’s so messy with it too, spitting and smacking to wet up your pussy. saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth, down his chin, into the collar of his shirt— unbothered that the lower half of his face is glossed up in your honeyed juices as his hands force your hips into a slow grind over his lips and tongue. 

and then, as if you’re not already burning from the inside out, your breaths choke off in your throat when he suddenly drags his tongue down, lapping over the entrance to your drooling cunt before he pushes it up into you. 

“o-oh- oh my god.” 

even though it’s nothing more than bothersome pressure, it feels so fucking good that it makes you want to collapse. thighs trembling and burning with the effort to hold up your weight. gojo makes languid, hungry pushes of the soft muscle against your walls that has you whimpering and gasping out. hips jerking as you forget yourself, bouncing down on his tongue like you’re fucking on his cock. and it’s exactly what he wanted, too— his moan is ragged, full of approval. cock throbbing against the tent in his slacks at the little sounds you make. 

you’re so caught up in the feeling of gojo fucking you with his tongue, eyes squeezed shut and knuckles aching around the grip you have on the headboard, that you had forgotten all about the other man in the room until he’s standing right next to the bed. his glass of scotch held in one hand while the other reaches for you, two fingers tucking under your chin to force you to look at him. 

nanami’s gaze roams all over your body. from the swell of your breasts to the tremble in your thighs as your tight cunt twitches around gojo’s tongue. your skin prickles over with goosebumps, swallowing nervously under his open scrutiny. his history with satoru and his apparent crush on you aside, you wonder what he thinks of you now? if such a proper, virtuous gentleman can keep up with insatiable freaks writhing on the bed in front of him. 

will he still dream about holding your hand on tuscan beaches after watching you grind on satoru’s face while begging nanami to touch you with big, pretty eyes, whimpering his name for mercy? 

“nuh-nanami-san, please-” 

“kento,” he murmurs, correcting you. and he doesn’t need the liquid courage— nanami kento is a man full of surety, but he drains the last dregs of his scotch anyway. “address me as kento tonight.” 

“kento,” you breathe and nod, like a good girl. “want you now. want somethin’ in my mouth.” 

visibly shivering at the sound of his given name leaving your lips, at your pleas, the ex-salaryman sets the empty glass down on the nightstand and then he’s reaching for you again. he traces your face, and then the underside of your breasts. his gaze briefly dips between your legs, too. and something in you stirs at the heated look that passes between the two men you’re in between. intense coffee brown meeting mischievous ocean blue before gojo smirks and looks away first to put his attention back on you as his tongue spears up against your sensitive spot, flicking and wriggling against it to spread warmth all along your hipbones and make you cry out desperately. 

reaching forward with greedy hands, you grip onto the front of kento’s dress shirt, needing a distraction from the tight coil winding slow in your gut. you tug him down to an angle where you can meet his pretty lips in a messy kiss. 

though you may have been the one to initiate it, nanami overpowers you easily. he makes the blood rush from your head, leaving you dizzy as he indulges you with his tongue. pausing to kiss over your jaw, sighing soft in the back of his throat like he’s coming home after waiting years to be able to fucking do this. it’s an overwhelming feeling, having one man lick into your mouth while the other challenges your sanity with his tongue against your pussy, his only goal to have you gush all over his face.

“finally,” kento breathes hotly, cupping your cheeks gently in his big hands as he kisses along the corner of your mouth, nipping at your upper lip like he can barely hold himself back to speak, his big hands palming your breasts. “i can become acquainted with this sweet mouth of yours without that one interrupting.” 

but oh, he shouldn’t have said that. 

gojo grunts in offense, but he doesn’t dare stop when you’re so close. if anything, it makes him worse. his hand replaces his mouth, and you barely have time to protest before he pushes three long fingers into your sopping pussy, curling them and fucking them back and forth with a quick pace that makes you ache, the tip of his tongue back to wriggling under the hood of your clit to spear right against those burning nerves again, causing you to thrash and bite down on nanami’s bottom lip, orgasm cresting too fucking fast, washing down over you like a strong tide ready to wipe out your mind—

“give me one right now, and i’ll let nanami fuck your mouth. come on, angel face, give it here-” 

“s-satoru, don’t-!” it would be a scream, but nanami drinks it down in a kiss. breath stolen right from your lungs as gojo forces the orgasm out of you, clenching and squelching so violently your cunt pushes his fingers out and you splash wetness all over the lower half of his face even though your clamp your knees together and try to hold it. tremors lock up the muscles of your thighs, and the pleasure chokes you out. high swirling in your head. you feel swollen, fucked out in the aftermath. knowing that satoru did it to prove a point, and not for your pleasure because you’re barely satisfied from it. your fingers are tangled in kento’s shirt, nearly tearing the fabric as satoru smirks victoriously between your thighs with his face soaking wet.

you push his head away from you weakly, but you know that he won’t let you off with just one. 

you don’t want him to. 

“y-you didn’t have to force it,” you whine, still shaking. “i fucking hate you.” 

“that wasn’t very kind, sweetheart,” kento is the one who speaks next, clucking his tongue. and you’re not sure if he’s talking about you insulting gojo, tearing his shirt, or nearly biting his lip in half or all three. but his lips look so fucking good all bitten and swollen, a dollop of blood pooling where you broke the skin that you ignore his scolding. at least until nanami takes your hand, pressing it firmly against the crotch of his slacks— letting you get a feel of just how painfully stiff his cock feels underneath the fabric.

“i expect that apology i was promised now.” 

god, you don’t need to be told twice. 

watching nanami through fluttering eyelashes, you work through unbuttoning his shirt and pants. the buckle of his designer belt clinks as you wriggle them down his hips just enough to free his cock. you can’t help the whine that leaves you, breath leaving your chest in a whistle at the way it slaps against his abdomen. it’s pretty. he hisses at that first contact of your hand wrapping around the base, moving it out of the way as you lean forward to press a kittenish kiss to his sharp, defined hipbone. 

“your cock is almost as handsome as the rest of you,” you breathe, voice the weight of a siren’s call. “can i taste it?” 

oh, you could pull him underneath the sea with the way you’re looking at him. he barely gives you a nod, and you smile. only a man as pristine as nanami would look this dignified with his pants tucked under his ass cheeks and his expensive shirt hanging off his shoulders, barely held out of the way as you stroke him slow from root to tip, wetting your palm with his sticky precum, opaque over your fingers for an easier slide. 

it’s not surprising that he is beautiful everywhere. a dusting of sandy hair on his defined chest and a sculpted adonis belt that tapers off into a pale and veiny cock. it’s not too long, slightly curved up towards his naval. perfectly heavy and thick— weighing your wrist down with body and strain. it feels scandalous and forbidden, like you shouldn’t be here stroking another man’s cock while your boyfriend watches, but then you remember that he is enjoying this most of all. 

“put your mouth on him, angel,” gojo instructs suddenly, pressing sticky kisses along your inner thigh to remind you of his presence. he barely sounds winded, nipping bruises into your pillowy skin as his salacious gaze locks onto the visual of your hand working over nanami’s leaking cock. “i’m almost done down here.” 

with that, he suckles your puffy clit back into his mouth. his throat flexing as he drinks down the pretty juices leftover. your hips jerk in surprise, but you try your best not to fall. to focus on your part in all of this. you grip onto nanami’s hip for purchase as your swollen lips part for the dripping, thick tip of his cock. sheathing your teeth like gojo taught you and sucking nanami between them slow, letting the 7:3 sorcerer feel the warm slide of your cheeks, fulfilling his darkest little desire of getting to fuck your mouth. 

and nanami hates to admit it, but gojo satoru being there to witness it, all six eyes on him, is like an added summer bonus. 

nanami is such a patient man. he would never think about forcing your pace, but he does place his hand on the top of your head, gently rubbing his thumb over your soft hair. it makes you want to please him further, sinking the tight ring of your mouth down on him until he grunts. the rough texture of your tongue scraping against the sensitive underside of his cock. you’re always such a good girl when it comes to sucking dick that satoru feels that familiar lick of envy burn fury-green in his sternum at the thought of his own erection sitting neglected in his slacks, but he wouldn’t miss the sight of his darling angel struggling to fit nanami’s girth fully into your little mouth even if the world was burning. 

“don’t suck him in like that or he’ll cum too fast and ruin it for all of us.” 

you’re about to reel back, smart off and tell gojo that you know how to properly suck a man off, that you’ve brought his ass to snot and tears with your mouth before, but something in your belly warms with lust instead and your words die under the weight of nanami’s cock pressing your tongue down as you remember what gojo said on the train. that maybe he’s instructing you because he already knows what makes nanami’s knees weak. that those pretty pink lips of your boyfriend’s have been right where yours are now. stretched obscenely around nanami’s thick cock, tongue flicking over the slit of his leaking head, swallowing like a good boy when the 7:3 sorcerer paints his throat white—

oh. 

“that’s it,” kento murmurs under his breath, low and gravelly. ruined. he bends at the waist, cupping your cheeks in his big hands, thumb brushing over the bulged outline of his girth pushing against your cheeks as you suckle around him. “i dreamt of this. laid awake at night thinking of how you would look when i touch you, how you would look with your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.” he thinks he was a fool for saying that he does not praise or disparage, because he can’t help himself now. how can he not praise you, sweet, perfect you, when you’re suckling on him like that? staring up at him through coquettish eyelashes with a mouth so fucking molten, it makes his stomach churn.

he’s almost nauseous in his pleasure. huffing out low groans as you bob once, twice, swallow around the tip of his cock and repeat. trapping nanami in an endless cycle that makes his knees buckle out. falling too fast for the hot brand around him that burns straight through his skin. eventually, he has to draw back. huff out a groan as he lets himself slip out with a wet pop. “stick your tongue out for me, love. say ah.” 

curling your tongue down to your chin, smiling impishly when the sight makes him groan. he moves forward after a moment of reprieve, slapping the heavy tip of his cock against your flattened tongue— smearing sticky precum all over the surface. you barely have time to swallow it down, slide his sweet taste down your throat before he cups your cheeks in warning and his hips surge forward. widening your eyes in surprise as he widens your jaw at the same time. 

nanami kento isn’t at all what you expected. you figured he would be gentle and slow with you, almost boring in his romanticism. but your hands fly to his hipbones as your throat flexes and you choke around the thick stretch your colleague lodges down your esophagus. 

“that’s it. let me in.” he whispers, and he makes the words sound like heaven when he’s committing sin. you’re only granted a moment to breathe when he springs back, grunting deep in his chest as you part so obediently for him. spit bubbling down your chin, pooling to drip between your breasts and onto satoru’s cheek where he distractedly plays with your clit underneath. your jaw aches, but you let him bruise your throat without complaint. 

“fuck, fuck. you’re so good for him, baby. can’t wait to feel that pretty throat struggling ‘round my cock too.” 

“you’re neglecting her, satoru.” nanami chastises above the volume of your wet gurgles and gargles, jaw locked tight in pure pleasure. he places his hand on your shoulder, bearing down to add weight and force you back onto gojo’s waiting tongue. your boyfriend smirks against your skin, encircling his lips around one of your puffy folds, nibbling it with his teeth before he laves you with long, wet stripes of his tongue. it becomes a push and pull of how long they can tease you. every heated lick at your frayed, overstimulated nerves and every thrust of nanami’s cock against the gummy patch of your throat threatens to make you faint. 

“pw-pleashe-” you blubber around the stretch of nanami fucking into your mouth, fluttering your teary lashes up at him— hiccupping desperate gulps of air into your lungs when nanami eases his hips back immediately, pulling off your tongue so that he can listen to your sweet pleas. 

“i think she has something to say,” satoru muses as nanami wipes his thumb over your lips to wipe away the dribbles of spit drooling down your chin and connecting you to the flushed, aching head of his cock. 

“what is it, love? go on.” 

“i can’t take it anymore. please please please-” 

“been thinking ‘bout it since we left that restaurant, huh?” gojo swipes an indulgent, selfish lick of his tongue over your clit one last time before he’s lifting you off of him and moving out from under your body, letting you settle amongst the pillows instead as he kneels on the bed. “you’ve been nothing but an angel for us tonight so how can i deny you?” 

you should be embarrassed the way your heart leaps in anticipation, heat swarming in your belly and you shamelessly open your legs for him, but satoru doesn’t move an inch to touch you.

you’re convinced he enjoys watching you suffer when he moves to stand behind nanami instead, resting his chin on the younger man’s shoulder so that he can look down the long expanse of his torso while he boldly curls his fingers around nanami’s cock with a firm grip, just to make his entire body pitch forward with a startled grunt—

“gojo-” 

“look how hard you’ve got him, princess,” he muses gleefully, bright eyes shining as he swipes the wide pad of his thumb over the head of nanami’s cock. and you can’t help but look, watching the way clear precum bubbles out of the slit and smears between the joints of satoru’s fingers as he strokes him slowly. nanami’s cheeks flush, his lips parting on a groan before he seems to remember himself and clenches his teeth.

you’re reaching down before you know it, slipping a hand between your own thighs and petting two fingers over your folds but satoru’s gaze whips over to you so fast your heart drops to your gut, his eyes darkening as he catches you with a red hand. “don’t you dare, you little slut. wait your turn.” 

he waits until you nod meekly, move your hand and curl your fists to your chest and then he’s back to his task.

satoru’s hand is different, it’s always been like that. while your touch had been soft, warm, unfamiliar— satoru’s is intense and vivid, like a bad memory. his palm is calloused friction as he drags his hand up the thick length of nanami’s cock, spreading your leftover spit into his skin. no kind of rhythm in his movement, just enough to make the blond man’s hips buck forward before he’s ripping his hand away and chuckling to himself.

“you just couldn’t wait to get your hands on my cock,” nanami bites out through gritted teeth. 

“you’re right,” gojo purrs, a teasing grin on his lips, and then his attention slides to you. “i think nanami wants to fuck you first, sugar.”

at this point, you could care less who gets there first— as long as you’re given what you want the most. glancing at gojo with watery eyes, you look over at him for approval. wondering if he’ll edge you to the brim and snatch it away from you again, but he nods, giving you a soft look that melts your insides to goo. “i’ll admit, i’m reluctant. i’ve been dying to get into this pretty little cunt all night long, but i’m gonna be nice and put you both out of your miseries.” 

“i’ve got something else you can do for me, anyway,” he continues. his nimble fingers move to pop the button on his own slacks then, sliding them down with little effort. he isn’t wearing any underwear, and you swallow greedily around a dried-out tongue as you get your first glimpse of the night of his pretty cock. it bobs out— flushed bubblegum pink and pearling at the tip between strong thighs frosted over by white peach fuzz. unfortunately, you don’t get a chance to reach out and wrap your fingers around it because nanami is crowding your space, letting you breathe in the spicy scent of his expensive aftershave. 

“you’re so eager to do whatever he asks. will you do the same for me tonight?” he wonders, looking down at you with flushed cheeks and mussed hair. 

demure in the way you press your knees further apart until they brush the sheets, making room for his hips to slot in between them. scooting into his lap until your ass cheeks nudge against the wet tip of his cock— legs draped over his muscled thighs so that he can see everything. nanami’s eyes droop down, raking desperately over that pretty little cunt of yours. he swallows, the knot in his throat bobbing under the thin skin before he reaches down to spread your slit apart, all slicked and gooey in strings of wet and the remnants of satoru’s spit. 

“such a pretty pussy,” nanami breathes out the compliment like a prayer, like he’ll die if he doesn’t bury himself in your cunt within the next few minutes. “but i didn’t think you were so tight here.” he marvels, the tip of his cock just barely slipping past your entrance and catching. “how you manage to take that idiot is beyond me.” 

“that almost sounds like a compliment,” gojo quips, but his sky blue attention is distracted between your legs. 

it’s funny how a simple night out to a birthday dinner for principle gakuganji turned out like this— with your stoic, antisocial colleague wrapping his veined hands around your squishy thighs and laying the length of his cock, fat and leaking, on the top of your puffy mound to compare the difference.

the man in front of you is nothing like your quiet colleague. where you expected soft serve missionary and whispered praises from him, you got a fucking size kink and him sucking his cheeks against his teeth before letting a warm glob of spit trail from his mouth to drizzle onto his cock. it’s lewd, how he lets it cool there, watching it spread down the side until it drips onto your pussy as you squirm under the perverted scrutiny from both men. he grips the base of his cock and taps the tip against your clit to make you squirm, smearing his spit as he moves. 

“kento,” you breathe, the tight ring of your cunt twitching because he’s so fucking close to where you want him.  “fuck me already.” 

“be patient, love,” he coos, and you feel the calloused pad of his thumb shift from holding your folds open to dipping his thumb into your cunt briefly, making you jump. “how long does satoru usually make you wait and beg for what you want?” 

“too long. oh, he’s so cruel to me, kento,” you simper, batting those wet eyelashes to get your way, your hands grasping at nanami’s tapered hips. 

“i’m not like that,” he reassures. “if you want something, i’ll provide it for you.” 

and then, nanami’s hips angle down before sinking forward, the push of his cock spreading the walls of your cunt apart agonizingly slow.

“nghhhh-”  

it feels like heaven, and both of you let out a groan. it’s everything nanami dreamed of. pleasure scrapes up his spine, numbing everything else around him and burning his nerves raw until all he can feel is your pussy, splitting open nice and sweet for him.

“so good for me, just a little more,” nanami clenches his jaw, fingers digging into your hips as his lidded eyes stare down at your pretty face— eyes wide and swollen lips suspended in a silent moan. 

immediately though, nanami knows that you’ll be a fucking problem. for all your begging for him, you don’t take it well. he’s barely in as it is, only just past the fat, flushed crown and you’re already choking on gasps and gurgles. slipping out of his grasp and scrambling further up the bed, running to gojo— running away from that first, twinging stretch of the blunt weight of nanami’s wide cockhead. 

“oh, no you don’t- where are you runnin’ off to, sugar?” satoru is the one who reaches down, hooking his hand behind your knee and keeping your leg pinned open for nanami, halfheartedly twisting a fist over the head of his own cock as he watches the other sorcerer force himself through the tight walls of your pussy.

“god, fuck-!” you whine, pressing your forehead against gojo’s knee. 

“what’s wrong? is this not what you begged me for? begged us both for?” 

“y-yeah, but i- c-can’t take it. ‘s too big, ken. w-won’t fit.”

“now you’re just flattering me to get what you want, love,” he murmurs, voice soothing over your frayed nerves like melted chocolate; his soft, nasally voice vibrates against your skin as he dips his head down, pressing his lips to the valley between your sweaty breasts before angling his head to wrap his lips around one of your peaked nipples. “don’t you worry now, i’ll make sure it fits. i’ll make sure you take every inch of my cock.”

you hate that his words sound oddly reassuring, like he’s soothing a frightened animal— like he’s not wider, heavier than satoru when he reels back before fucking himself into you again, to the hilt this time. snorting under his breath when your knees close up, clacking violently against his hips. your first instinct is to push him out, thighs shaking with the effort to take him but he’s sinking with so much weight that it knocks the breath out of your lungs, giving you no choice but to let him split you open.

gojo doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he is enjoying your struggle. he’s scratching the itch of a longtime kink of his, mumbling to himself like a madman about how you look so fucking hot like this, how you take nanami like the good girl you are. this is exactly what he wanted, and he always gets what he wants; but it’s what you wanted too. you wanted satoru to watch the way you thrash against the sheets, the way your pretty lips part to moan your coworker’s name— how fucking beautiful you look arching your back off the bed, hair splayed out on the pillows with another man’s cock fucking inside you.

“how does he feel, angel?” 

“so big, s-so fucking wide-!” you squeal, your words hiccupping off into a throaty moan, “i can’t-” 

“why don’t you be a big girl for nanami? show him how good you are at taking cock, baby,” satoru purrs, stroking his hand across your soft cheek. you nod a little, bite down on your lip, curling your fists into the sheets as nanami fucks steady, raw soreness against the walls of your cunt. the soft swell of your breasts bouncing with each calculated, hard thrust. you muffle the sounds you make against satoru’s knee, but nanami seems to enjoy your gasping cries. practically cooing in response each time he drags one out of you. 

“show him that you can take two at once.” 

before you can comprehend what he means, kento is the one who pauses his strokes, encapsulating your hips in his big hands before he tips you onto your side to give satoru easier access. it’s strange, seeing two men who don’t get along work together to fuck you to tears but it also warms your cunt, a feverish flush traversing through your veins because they’re taking care of you so well. nanami hooks your ankle over his shoulder, bending you until the joints in your hips ache and then he fucks back in, his blunt fingernails digging bloody moons into the doughy skin of your thighs at the feeling of your cunt swallowing him up once more. 

when gojo shifts his hips forward, you know what he wants and you loll out your tongue like a good girl, waiting until your boyfriend wraps his fingers around the back of your head, spindly digits tangling in your hair painfully as he guides your head forward, running your tongue across the leaking slit of his cock, let you gather up his precum on your tastebuds. groaning. sucking in his gut as you let him use your mouth for his pleasure, letting him control you like a little rag doll. and when he tugs on your hair, your swollen lips close around the tip of his cock, suckling on it obediently. whining when you suck just right and the salty taste of his watery precum coats your tongue. 

“look at you, you’re filthy,” nanami mutters, and though the degradation should smart, it makes your hips buck up against his in response because nanami says it with so much fucking veneration, it sounds like he’s praying to god. “i should have known because of who you’re dating, but look. at. you- you’re worse than he is. thrashing all over my cock while you suck another.” 

“k-kento-” 

you don’t need a mirror to know how you look under them. vixenish. a thing out of fantasy, a greedy little cockslut happily splitting open those honey thighs for one man while your pretty mouth is wide open for another; wedged between both of them to be used for their pleasure.

and you couldn’t be happier— you dip low, tonguing at the seam of satoru’s balls, spit congregating at the corner of your lips before he shakes his head, cheeks candy cane red and blue eyes lidded. fingers tightening in your hair with a brutal twist of his wrist, hips fucking forward to sink himself further into your mouth. 

“f-fuck, sweet girl. just like that.” 

nanami’s watching the entire thing, his gaze fixated on the two of you as you suck gojo greedily between your lips. his heart thumps wild, and he can’t help but fuck a little harder at the sight, a little faster, a little meaner, because he knows what you’re tasting right now from experience. salt and sugar at the tip, precum gathering against your tongue that never ends because satoru is messy. his throat dries up, sandy hair falling over his forehead as he tucks his chin against his chest and forces his eyes shut. 

“how does she feel, nanami?” satoru goads, voice breathless, lidded eyes flickering to the man fucking between your legs. “better than me?” 

“better than you ever have. look how easy she’s opening up for me,” nanami shoots at the white-haired man, his fingers holding one side of your pussy open so both men can watch nanami’s cock slide in and out, your cunt expanding to take him with each sink before squeezing down when he presses deep. he’s made a mess of you already— the thick root of his cock coated in a ring of white cream, flecks of it splattered over his lower abdomen.

it’s too much— fuck, he can barely keep his composure. he’s losing control and it’s too much and that’s why nanami does it. he’s overwhelmed. you run too hot, and his gut feels like it’s on fire. each sink of his heavy cock against the warm, squishy walls of your cunt, combined with satoru’s low groans and the sound of you choking around his cock up front threatens to send him over the edge too early. that’s why nanami’s honey eyes darken, why he reaches for satoru— gripping him hard by the nape of his neck and tugging him forward. 

gojo grunts in surprise as nanami yanks him in, but it isn’t as if he doesn’t want to go; as if he doesn’t want to chase the thread nanami is weaving right now. they barely share a heated look before gojo dips his head, locking them into a kiss. 

the first thing that crosses your mind is that it’s so fucking hot, and the second is that the way they kiss each other is not the gentle way they coaxed you into letting them explore your mouth. they aren’t delicate with each other, and you should not have expected them to be.

gojo usually has so much control over nanami— being a stronger sorcerer than him, dominating the conversations they have by annoying him to no end— but when they kiss, it’s different. nanami grips the back of gojo’s neck in a vice, keeping him in place while his long fingers tangle in the short strands of nanami’s hair. it’s all heated licks into satoru’s mouth, lewd sucks against nanami’s tongue. like they’ve waited so fucking long to do this again. one drunk on your pussy and the other drugged out on your throat as they kiss each other vigorously. 

their lips are wet with spit, and at one point gojo bites down on nanami’s tongue hard enough to nick it, groaning at the metallic tang that rides over his taste. you don’t miss how nanami’s hips drive into you harder after that, forcing his grunts down gojo’s throat as punishment. 

if you had any doubts that they had done this before, you don’t have them now. it’s obvious in their chemistry, and though the thoughts swirl in your mind, you don’t feel jealousy as they tongue into each other’s mouths. no matter what, you are the center of satoru’s world and nothing will change that. instead, it’s hotter like this, seeing the two of them kiss each other. knowing the three of you are sharing each other. 

“who told you that you could stop?” kento’s gaze flickers to you, head tilted down and directing the question at you. his chest rises and falls in a desperate heave as satoru mouths a path across the sharp cut of the ex-salaryman’s jawline to the long, toned expanse of his neck. leaving aubergine nips and bites along the smooth olive skin there that nanami hisses at. 

you had been so caught up in watching them that you don’t even remember stopping. you’re almost too fucked out to function yourself— to keep up with the only task you had besides laying there and taking cock, but your cheeks warm as nanami scolds you for slacking off. at some point, you had pulled off of satoru’s cock, rubbing your spit against his skin with a halfhearted, lazy handjob. neglecting your poor boyfriend to watch them kiss. nanami’s hand drops, gripping the back of your head and forcing you to swallow satoru’s cock once more. you suck him in quick, gurgling spit and precum and air in a dirty choke as the warmth catches him off guard and his hips snap forward too fast, the tip of his cock brushing against the fleshy patch at the back of your throat and gagging you out. 

“good girl, f-fuck. you’re so good for me, so good, so fuckin’ good,” oh, he sounds like he’s almost sobbing. 

as you pull him further in, a hot brand suctioning around the girth of his cock at the same time nanami boldly scrapes a fingernail over one of his nipples. it’s enough stimulation, enough overwhelming pleasure that he feels a lurch in his gut, a kick in his balls and then he’s withdrawing almost as fast as he buried himself in, pulling his cock off your tongue at an almost reluctant pace, a string of spit connecting you to his flushed tip.  

“need a minute. can’t cum yet,” he expels a deep breath of relief, grinning at you lopsidedly and bending at the waist to kiss your puffy lips— groaning when he tastes his musk on your tongue. but it’s obvious that gojo satoru isn’t tapping out of his own game.

instead, he stretches out on his belly and suckles one of your nipples into his mouth, pulling the little nub so hard onto his tongue that you feel your eyes wet up at the sensation, walls clenching around nanami with a gasp. he quickly grows bored, though. hand trailing down your tummy until you jump in oversensitivity as his fingers shift through your spread slit, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your puffy, sore clit as nanami sinks in and out of your pussy.

you whine, wanting to cum so desperately that your lashes are wet with frustrated tears, grinding against each of nanami’s thrusts, euphoric dopamine filling your brain each time his fat cock fucks right against that sweet spot inside of you. 

“gojo-san, behave,” nanami warns suddenly, already knowing what the snowy-haired sorcerer is up to. gojo just grins, and then his fingers are dipping a little further, a dangerous glint in his eye that makes your heart sink. 

“aw, come on, spoilsport. i just wanna see how your cock feels inside my girl,” he says innocently, but his smirk betrays his intentions completely. you hiss through your teeth as satoru fishhooks a finger into your pussy, thrusting it right alongside nanami’s cock and tugging, stretching you out even further.

“o-oh-” you keen, and then your boyfriend is leaning down and licking a broad stripe over the length of your slit, hardening the point of his tongue to flick it rapidly against your clit, the heady scent of sex filling his nostrils, making him lightheaded.

you squeak out in surprise, fingers flying to grip his hair, acrylics digging into his scalp because you’re so delirious with pleasure now, fucked out and so so full— walls twitch and clench with each weighted thrust of nanami’s cock, the forked ridges of the veins along the shaft dragging against your nerves, slick squelching out of your stretched hole to drip down the middle of your ass cheeks. 

“look at me while i’m fucking you, darling,” nanami beckons for your attention and you give it to him, looking up at him with misty, lidded eyes. “there we go, there’s my pretty girl,” he croons and he knows that he shouldn’t stake a claim on you like this— you’ll be back in satoru’s arms soon enough, you’ll never belong to him, after all, but he can’t help himself; his hand petting your cheek affectionately as he fucks into you. “you’re going to make me cum soon, love. gonna make me fill up this perfect little cunt. do you want that?”

“yes-! want your cum, kento. want it so bad.”  

“that’s right, darling. let me hear it. let me hear you scream my fucking name in front of your boyfriend.” 

“want you to cum inside me, k-kento. wanna cum with you. f-fuck me, it feels so good-!” you plea, and the beginnings of an orgasm stirs in your tummy— warmth spreading all over the nerves of your clit and building until you can feel it right on the edge, so close that tears bubble up in your pretty eyes because you want it so fucking bad. all it would take is for nanami to fuck into you at the right angle, for gojo to crook the fingers he still has inside of you and press up against that sweet spot and make you fall apart underneath them. 

but you should have expected that gojo satoru would have other plans. his tongue innocently flicking out against your clit until he moves down, mouth widening a little further so that when nanami reels his hips all the way back and plunges forward, it’s not your cunt that nanami sinks into, it’s satoru’s mouth. pretty pouty lips closing around the head of nanami’s cock at the last minute, hollowing his cheeks out, sucking him all the way to the back of his throat like a fucking professional—

“what the- fuck,” a guttural grunt of surprise is punched out of nanami that sounds so deep, so ruined that it rattles your teeth, his entire body trembling at the hot suction swallowing around his cock and he’s lost to it, no chance of fighting it or scolding satoru for the dirty trick— he simply grips the back of his head roughly, burying himself down the sorcerer’s throat as he spurts white ropes of cum onto gojo’s tongue, forcing him to drink every fucking drop. 

nanami heaves in the aftermath, barely able to catch his breath. “can you ever get through the day without being a freak?” 

“keep degrading me,” gojo sighs before he grips your cheeks, squishing them between the pads of his fingers until your tongue pushes out from the pressure and he can lean over your body, lolling out his own tongue and drizzling a thick strand of his spit and nanami’s leftover seed from his mouth into your own, bringing a moan to your lips as your hips thrash. you make a show of playing with it— spreading white it over the surface of your tongue before you swallow eagerly, whining needily as his cum slides down your throat. “it makes my dick even harder.”

“i didn’t get to cum,” you pout.

“sorry, princess,” he doesn’t sound apologetic at all when he looks down his nose at you, shrugging one broad shoulder. “can’t let you have all the fun. don’t worry, though. i’m going to take care of you.” 

you would be lying if you said your stomach didn’t lurch at the promise. 

you’re vaguely aware that the two of them are switching places, eyes too blurry with clouds to see for sure until nanami sits back against the large headboard and pulls you into a half-seated position so that you’re leaning against his chest and his strong arm is encircled around your middle as satoru nudges your cum streaked thighs apart. your eyes are lidded, but you still can see him brush his fingers over your used pussy before he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, unforgiving and no further warning before he presses inside of you.

heat washes over your entire body, your belly aching as you’re filled up to the brim once again. where nanami was thicker, satoru is everything— overwhelming, all consuming. making your eyes slam shut during that first push every time, unable to help your high pitched whines as he forces you to take every last inch of his cock.

“not gonna say ‘t-toru it’s too much’ for me like you did nanami? i must be losing my touch,” he sneers, mocking you with a condescending coo, his eyes rolling down when he bottoms out inside of you.

“f-… god. f-fuck you.”

“anything for you.”

satoru isn’t interested in teasing any longer, not when he’s been on edge for hours. the unruly, hard rhythm of his fucking has you squirming on his cock quick, each thrust knocking you against nanami’s bare chest— giving you nowhere to run. it hurts, but it’s so good. your cunt too sensitive after being used all night long like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

“be good for him, darling,” nanami encourages, and you think you could get used to the way he holds you— his lips pressed against the temple of your head, his breath hot against your skin as he presses the softest of kisses there, contrasted with the brutal lashings of satoru’s fucking. 

you nod dumbly, letting yourself be wrapped in nanami’s strong arms as satoru fucks in and out, relentless in his strokes, keeping that familiar ache in the pit of your belly. his hips press against yours as he grinds the tip of his cock against the entrance to your womb and he knows he’s too deep when you wince, when your fingernails scratch against his tapered v-line to beg for mercy so he compromises, drawing back until he can see the foam streaking his cock.

“puh-please, ‘toru,” you pant out, guttural and desperate so satoru falls over you, groaning into your shoulder as he does exactly what you asked— slamming his cock into you. making you cry out in surprise as he fucks deep once more, pulses of pleasure burning through your body and making your legs clamp around his hips.

“i-i can’t-” you whine, squeezing your thighs together, but satoru holds you open, not taking your complaints, pressing you down further against nanami so that it’s impossible to escape the dirty onslaught of his cock. “much- too much-!”

“oh, now you say it, ” satoru growls out, rolling his hips. “too late. cum for me and i’ll stop. come on, sweet baby. cum on my cock.”

you can tell that he’s losing it too, the friction almost too much to bear for you both. wrapping your arms around satoru’s neck and clinging to him, you bite your lips to muffle the gasps and moans trying to escape as the heat stirring in your belly is almost to bursting now, a rubber band pulled taut and ready to snap. 

nanami ducks a hand between the wet slide of your bodies, pushing his middle finger against your clit. rubbing in quick circles and you mewl, squirming and thrashing against them both. “do what he says, cum for him.” and you try to hold it, try to last a little longer but it’s no use; the three of you are pressed against each other beautifully and the room feels hazy and hot, suffocating everything else until your pleasure is sharpened to a bright point, until you can feel nothing but them. raw pulses. inner walls spasming against satoru’s cock as he thrusts against you, fucking against that spot inside you until it feels sore, his balls slapping against the fat of your ass cheeks each time he sinks into you. 

“i-i’m g’na cum, oh f-fuck, i’m gonna cum-!” 

“oh, there we go,” satoru groans as he fights through the tight squeeze of your walls, like you’re late and he’s tired of waiting.

your vision dots with black stars, screams echoing off the walls of the room in gojo’s penthouse before your back arches and you’re gone, squirting as your swollen walls clamp desperately around satoru’s cock; drenching the sheets below as you gush all over them both, sniffling as the force of your orgasm forces hot tears to spill from your eyes that gojo and nanami bend down to lick away from your cheeks.

satoru follows close behind, his own climax hitting him like a fucking train— groaning as buries himself deep to cream your cunt with his thick cum. the sight of the two of you, so pretty and filthy as you cling to each other, makes nanami cum again too. completely untouched, spurting hot seed against your lower back where he holds you up.

it feels like forever before your eyes flutter open and when they do, you look up at nanami, his face flushed and hair mussed out of the confines of his hair gel. then, your eyes slide down to gojo who is looking utterly pleased with himself. he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, pulling it free before his thumb gently spreads your folds apart, snorting when you hide your face in your hands as both of them fixate on the sight of your ruined cunt once more. thighs streaked with sweat and cum, strands of seed dripping out of your hole to pool beneath you on the sheets. you look so messy and nanami has to tear his gaze away, his gut lurching with the desire to eat it out of you. 

“fuck, that was good,” gojo breathes, and you whine when he scoops up some of the cum leaking out of you with two fingers and pushes it back into your pussy.

“stop staring at it-!”

“don’t be shy. i’m glad i was given the privilege to see you cum like this, darling,” nanami murmurs, kissing your temple as he pries your hands away from your face. then he moves from behind you, letting your body rest amongst the enormous sea of pillows satoru keeps on his bed. “i trust that the two of you will allow me to eat dinner in peace next time, now that you’ve satisfied another one of your appetites.” 

“no promises,” you giggle, stretching out on the bed and bringing one of the pillows closer to cuddle it. 

“i should help you clean up. satoru, where do you keep the towels?” he says and though he sounds like such a gentleman, it’s really because if he keeps staring at the cum leaking out of you in rivulets, he won’t be able to ever leave this fucking room.

but the white-haired sorcerer doesn’t answer him. instead, gojo flops down and hooks an arm around your waist— his long legs tangling with yours as he pulls you against his chest. it feels symbolic to nanami, somehow. like he’s shared your body, shared his own in a way, and now he’s ready to fit the rightful pieces of the puzzle back into their places.

for a moment, nanami had almost forgotten that neither of you have ever belonged to him. 

he is the outsider, after all. 

his expression remains neutral because he knows when he has overstayed his welcome, knows when one of satoru’s little games are over and there are no rematches. he has been in this situation before, after all— younger, reckless, and just as foolish as he is now— so he stands up and prepares to leave with dignity, walk over to his neatly folded clothes on the armchair by the window and hope that he doesn’t fall asleep dreaming about the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. praying that now that he’s had you, it’ll be out of his system for good—

“where are you going, kento?” you wonder in genuine confusion, wrapping your hand around his wrist to halt his stride as you tilt your head up with a frown. nanami feels his heart kick in his chest. “we can clean up later, silly. come back to bed.” 

“i don’t think i should stay,” nanami sniffs, wishing he had his tie to adjust out of nervous habit. 

“you know, leaving right after you fucked my brains out is not very gentlemanly of you, nanami kento,” you scold halfheartedly, mouth twisted to the side.

“i have missions in the morning so i regrettably cannot-” his ears turn crabapple pink at your crude words, his free hand reaching over to gently pry your fingers away from his wrist but you refuse to let go.

“well, if you want to be a proper lover, then you will,” you tug on his wrist insistently, almost yanking him back onto the slightly damp covers. satoru grins like a cheshire cat as nanami obliges you, sliding into bed on your other side. 

nanami has never wanted to slap an expression off of someone as much as he does now, but as usual satoru sees everything. he sees what nanami refuses to admit right now: that he was relieved you asked him to stay. that you may just have him completely gone. that tonight unearthed long buried feelings for white hair and a mischievous smile. that he just needs a little bit of time, a little bit of coaxing, to stop being so stubborn and come to terms with those facts.

“i told you she’s greedy, nanami,” satoru grins. 

“i suppose i have no choice then, do i?” 

“nope,” you confirm, and you know that the three of you have a lot to discuss tomorrow about what this means but this progression feels natural, adding balance.

nanami staying with the two of you feels like it was meant to be.

“you have to make breakfast in the morning.”

[biteyoubiteme]

fit check

fem!reader x choi yeonjun x huening kai

synopsis: yeonjun buys you some new clothes and wants you to try them on for him and huening.

warnings: 🔞!!! established relationship, throuple/poly, no mxm, threesome, praise, nipple play, oral (f!rec), fingering, multiple orgasms (f!rec), overstim, unprotected sex, creampie, use of the name baby, she/her used. prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3k

an:  this is kinda a part two of busy signal but you don't need to read that to read this or the other way around. feedback appreciated :)) [m.list]

“Did one of you order something huge?” you ask using your foot to push in the box that you had to sign for. it was heavy enough that you didn’t even want to try and carry it in your arms. 

Kai and Yeonjun are laid out on the couch, both of them paying no attention to the TV in front of them as they scroll on their phones. you had been studying in the office coming out for a second to grab some water when the knock came for the delivery. 

“I didn’t,” Kai pipes up his phone illuminating him from the nose up, he is clutching one of the oversized stuffies he keeps on the couch. 

you push the box into their view and Yeonjun sits up a grin taking over his face. “I did,” he tosses his phone down on the couch forgetting about it as he moves to pick up his keys from the hook by the door. the little fox charm dangling from his fist as he uses the key to cut the tape open. 

inside is another box, matte black and tied with a bow. Yeonjun hands you his keys to replace as he pulls this box out to set down on the coffee table. 

The three of us are now only interested in seeing the contents inside. it wasn’t unusual for any one of us to receive a box but usually not this big. Yeonjun sits back down waving at you to follow suit and take your usual seat between the two of them, placing the box right in front of you. huening pulled himself up to give you room so as not to sit on his outstretched legs. 

“Open it,” Yeonjun says, bumping his shoulder with yours. 

“me?” and he chuckles. “I got you a gift, open it,” 

you can’t help but grin as you grab the end of the ribbon on the front, “it’s not something that will jump out and scare me is it?”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, at least not without recording your reaction,” you roll your eyes flipping the lid of the box up. you’re met with tissue paper folded neatly and secured with a sticker the label for a designer brand. the size of the box meaning it wasn’t a small bill. “Go on,” he nudged you after you paused. you try to tear the paper as little as possible folding it back to see the folded garments inside. 

there had to be about three full outfits in there, your fingers dragging over the fabrics. “oooo” Kai hums as you pull out a pleated skirt dark gray and heavy. 

“I saw a campaign for their new collection and all I could think about was you wearing all this,” he pulls out a soft sweater as Kai reaches in and pulls out a sheer pair of tights. “go try it on,” 

you take the sweater from him standing to take it into the other room. “don’t forget these,” Kai says, passing over the tights. 

Yeonjun loves to dress you up, picking outfits, and having a little fashion show in the living room wasn’t uncommon but it still always made you nervous to know they were waiting in the other room for you. All their attention ready to be placed on you. 

you were currently dressed in your pajamas nearly ready to turn in for bed after your studying. when you pull off your sleep shirt to replace it with the sweater you don’t move to put on a bra. your gentle pulling on the thin tights making sure not to snag them with your nails. and when you pull on the skirt you realize how short it is. it only just barely covers your ass if you leaned over you would flash anyone behind you. 

when you make it back out to the living room your hands are laced in front of you a bit shy. Yeonjun is leaning back with his arm thrown over the back of the sofa, Kai holding his stuffie to his stomach, hands on his elbows hugging it. their gaze makes your cheeks heat, “come here,” Yeonjun beacons leaning forward so he can lean his elbows on his knees. 

your stockinged feet feel cold against the hardwood as you try not to slip from how silky the tights are. Yeonjun reaches out once you’re close enough, his hot hand sliding from the back of your knee up your thigh until it cups the flesh of your ass under the skirt. you shiver, reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders. “It's kinda short,” you whisper, not realizing it would come out so breathy but Yeonjuns fingers are long enough to brush your inner thigh, high enough to almost graze your center. 

“I like it,” Kai’s voice is throaty and he swallows to try and clear it. when you look at him he’s pink from his cheeks to his ears. 

“do you?” you twist your hips just enough to make the fabric sway but the move makes Yeonjuns fingers slip right against your clothed core. Yeonjuns smirk cocky as he squeezed your inner thigh. He knows that look on your face like the back of his hand. that gleam in your eyes telling him everything he needs to know, kai noticed it too. the way you were pressing your knees together trying to trap Yeonjuns hand from moving further up, to the way your grip on his shoulders was tightening. 

If Yeonjun did inch higher he would find that you were growing wet under their inspection. Yeonjuns free hand cups your hip, thumb pressing hard into you. “open,” 

The single word is a demand that makes your knees weak. you shake your head and Yeonjun raises his eyebrows. “worried to make a mess all over your new tights?” if you could blush harder you would. “because I don’t care,” his fingers slip higher even without you opening your legs for him. you want to be embarrassed by how wet you are and he has barely touched you at all because you know he can feel your arousal through the thin material of the tights and your panties. The grin he gives while running his tongue along the inside of his cheek only makes it worse.  

“huening how wet do you think she already is?” he doesn’t need to look over to know Kai’s watching the two of you. Yeonjun is too busy gauging your reaction to the painstakingly slow drags of his fingers. 

“soaking,” the word a breath in the room. Someone had turned off the TV before you came back in after changing. 

“why don’t you let huening feel hum?” and then his hands are gone. Your whine is unnoticed as he taps your ass to tell you to listen to him. 

you walk over to Kai who’s biting his inner lip ready to draw blood. “Do you want to touch me hyuka?” 

he doesn’t answer before he reaches out for you. thumb sliding under the skirt and circling your clit. the sensation races up your spine and you grab his forearm to still yourself. 

Yeonjun stands behind you pushing your hair to the side to kiss behind your ear. you can feel how hard he is as he leans into you, his hands going under your sweater to cup your breasts. 

At the same time he pinches your nipples Kai flicks your clit. you jump nails digging into Kai’s arm, Yeonjun kissing down your neck to your shoulder. Kai goes back to rubbing soft circles in apology. 

Yeonjun lifts the sweater off of you, tossing it back into the box still filled with the forgotten outfits you hadn’t tried yet. Yeonjun takes all your hair into a ponytail before tugging your head back onto his shoulder giving Kai full access to your uncovered tits. Kai has no hesitation before wetting his lips and sucking marks on your skin, his teeth grazing your nipples. Yeonjuns voice hot in your ear, “Lay down on huening and I’ll take care of you okay?” 

you nod hurriedly as he lets you go, Kai leaning back against the armrest of the couch. He opens his legs to fit you against him, your back to his chest, his lips to your temple. 

he’s achingly hard wedged under you, hands cupping your breasts and tugging your nipples as Yeonjun takes off his shirt. he leans down on the couch between your legs pushing up your skirt and when you think he’s going to tug down your tights and panties he instead hooks his fingers in at the crotch of the fabric and rips the thin material. 

“jjunie!” your hand shoots out to grab him but the damage is done. “I liked those,” you pout but Yeonjun only laughs lips on your thigh and the reverberation is a direct link to your clit. “I bought you three pairs,” 

“it’s wasteful-“ but you can’t finish your sentence when he pushes your panties aside and gives a hard suck to your clit. your head lobs back and you moan into Kai’s ear. 

“Look at you, so responsive to our touch,” Kai kisses your throat, “and you sound so pretty,” another whimper leaves you as Yeonjun flicks his tongue. 

Yeonjun pulls away and you try to raise your hips to follow him but Kai reaches out a hand to lay flat against your stomach pushing you down. you whimper wiggling against his hold but it only makes him moan in response to the feel of you rubbing against his cock, almost painful. 

Yeonjun lets his tongue barely touch you, bushing your folds up and down before ghosting his lips in the same way. you’re squirming and he grips your thighs hard. “patience baby or do I need to stop?” 

“no please jjunie I need you,” and you twitch as he leans back down to give a feather-light kiss to your clit. Your cry in frustration makes them both chuckle. 

Yeonjuns teeth brush against your inner thigh as he cups the back of your knee pushing your legs wider. He nips on your skin right over the ripped fabric of the tights before his fingers shock you by gathering your slick. 

He's gentle as he rubs you tracing your entrance before going back up to your clit. the moment he puts his mouth back on you, you know you’re going to cum. he knows it too and it’s why he’s not doing it yet. “please junnie,” you rock your hips forward as best as you can with Kai holding you in place. 

Yeonjun ignores you circling your entrance before plunging in. You’re breathless as he pumps in slowly trying to get you used to the feeling before he curls his fingers tapping against the spot that makes your brain stop working. one of your hands reaches up to twist your fingers in Kai’s hair the other reaches down to grip Kai’s wrist. the way that he’s pushing down on your pelvis makes Yeonjuns fingers feel incredible. 

Yeonjun gives slow strokes stopping every once in a while to press on your magic gummy spot until he finally latches onto your clit again, sucking until you see stars. 

you’re completely trembling and weak as you cum, Kai tugging on your left nipple his mouth behind your ear. Yeonjun doesn’t stop until you’re tearing up and when he does he gives each mark he made on your thigh a kiss. 

you’re breathing hard as Kai rubs up and down your ribs with his right hand. you hear the sound of Yeonjuns belt buckle being undone and you lazily watch as he strips. 

veiny cock already leaking precum as he takes it into his hand still wet from your juices. your legs instantly widen at the sight, pussy clenching around nothing. 

yeonjun drinks in the sight of you spread out and ready for him, he won’t last long. 

He climbs over you and Kai presses his face into your neck. “you’re going to take everything I give you right?” 

“yes,” your breathy response is lost in a moan as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds. 

he pushes in without warning completely bottoming out in one thrust stilling as he gives a guttural moan against your skin. kai’s hand snakes down between you and Yeonjun, tapping your clit making you clench around Yeonjun. “if you keep doing that I won’t be able to move,” and you don’t know who he’s talking about and you don’t care because he pulls out slowly before slamming right back in. 

Your body jolting against Kai’s cock makes him whine the hold he has on your nipple is sharp and painful but it’s a direct line to your impending orgasm. 

yeonjun doesn’t slow his pace for a second, his hands on the sides of both you and Kai’s heads as he drills into you. 

kai rubs at your clit and you’re shaking all over again, tears leaking from the overstimulation. you cum in a silent gasp yeonjun pressing his mouth on yours to catch your breath. the feeling of you milking him sending him over the edge stilling all movement as he shoots hot cum deep inside you. He moans into your mouth giving weak strokes as he rides out his high. 

When he finally pulls out you can feel your combined release slipping down your folds and onto Kai’s sweatpants. 

you feel limp but yeonjun picks you up to let Kai move from underneath you. He pulls himself up to sit against the couch properly, yeonjun brushing your hair back from your face. your legs are completely weak and trembling as you try to weigh down on them but yeonjun guides you to straddle huening. “You can’t neglect Kai, I'm sure you can take one more load can’t you?” but when your knees hit the couch you fall over kai wrapping your arms around his head and tangling your fingers into his hair. you’re still dripping onto his pants as you give a nod. 

Kai's hands are wrapped around your waist holding you up before he reaches down to tug his cock free. when it bumps your clit you jolt up your cry pressed right into his ear. 

“I’ll take good care of you, baby, I promise,” he kisses your bicep before notching himself at your entrance and pushing upwards as slowly as possible, your pussy already swollen. Yeonjun and Kai are nearly the same size, only Kai is slightly girthier making the stretch noticeable. you’re holding onto Kai for dear life but once he fully settles into you you’re vibrating, trembling, and ready to cum in a breath of a second. 

Kai holds your hips steady before pulling out all the way. He inches back in and your head lobs back in a moan from the corner of your eye you see yeonjun fisting himself already hard again. 

huening feels like he’s pressed right against your cervix, brushing so deep you want to just sit still because even without thrusting you could cum from the feel of him. 

kai’s fingers are digging into your skin hard enough to bruise as he tries to keep his steady pace but you know he wants to go faster. “it’s okay hyuka I can take it,” you try to nod to make yourself believe your words but you don’t know if your legs can take it. 

“Can you?” because he’s not sure he believes it but when you give him another okay he can’t resist any longer. 

without pulling out he flips the two of you so that you’re on your back, head resting on the plushie he had been using to hide his hard on the second you walked out in that tiny skirt. he leans back to tug off his sweatshirt balling it up to tuck under your lower back. The movement sends him deeper into you and he folds a choked moan leaving him as he feels your hot warm walls surrounding him, his pelvis pressed into yours. 

feeling yeonjun fuck you was almost torture if you had moved anymore against Kai’s cock he would have cum instantly. and now you’re looking over huening shoulder to see yeonjun trying to restrain himself from cumming again. 

you’re so easy to slip in and out of, so wet and slippery Kai gets lost in pounding into you. the room is filled with the choir of your combined moans. kai ravages your pussy chasing his orgasm, pumping over and over again like it’s the last thing he will do. you’re so sensitive and full that you’re falling over the edge again in seconds. 

The scratching down Kai’s back and the feel of your orgasm makes him stutter in his thrusts before he unloads his warmth in you. he grabs the back of your knee lifting your leg making you cry as he sinks his hips deeper before stilling completely inside you. 

when he pulls out you’re so beaten you hadn’t noticed yeonjun had followed the two of you to your climax and was laid back with cum all over his stomach. 

kai keeps your leg raised as he prods at your still throbbing pussy, dragging your lips aside to watch as your combined arousal spills out with each residual pulse. with one long finger he scoops up the cream before shoving it back inside you. “the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen,”  

yeonjun stands gazing over you, “the prettiest,” he agrees before dragging his finger through the mess he made on himself. kai pulls his finger out before yeonjun shoves his in. You jerk back as he pumps in his cum as if he wasn’t already staining your insides. He takes his hand away tugging your panties into place. 

“Let's get you cleaned up and then we can see the rest of the outfits I picked out for you, yeah?”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗕𝗢𝗫

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where it's part of Matt's routine to prepare breakfast and pack his girlfriend's lunchbox every day.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @sturniozoey

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: This tiktok inspired me to write it 🩷

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Sunlight began to filter through the half-open curtains, painting the room in soft shades of gold.

The sound of Y/N's phone alarm echoed abruptly, interrupting the silence of the morning, waking Matt who, with a sleepy sigh and eyes still closed, stretched his arm over his girl's body to turn off the device that rested on the bedside table.

His blue eyes slowly opened, finding Y/N's serene face beside him, lightly crumpled by the pillow and with strands of hair over her forehead and cheeks.

With a gentle smile, he leaned forward, brushing the strands out of the way before placing soft kisses on the soft skin of her face, spreading them across every visible space. Each touch was full of affection, as if he wanted to express all the love he felt for her in those small gestures.

His slightly dry lips from sleep finally found hers, sealing a sweet kiss over her numb ones, his beard tickling her chin slightly.

Y/N mumbled something indistinctly, still half asleep, ignoring his attempts to wake her up and just snuggling closer, sinking into the soft sheets and his warm chest. She didn't want to leave that moment, that comforting hug, but she knew she needed to start the day, or she would be late for work.

Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away from Matt and stretched, feeling completely enveloped by the feeling of warmth and security he provided. The girl slowly got up, hearing Matt's low laugh - who was watching her with loving eyes - still feeling the echoes of drowsiness, walking towards the bathroom.

While Y/N enjoyed the invigorating shower, Matt stealthily headed to the kitchen, determined to go through the motions of his daily routine and prepare his girl's breakfast. With eyes still tired from sleep, he began to gather the necessary ingredients, listening to the low sounds coming from Nick's room, who had probably woken up earlier than them - if he had even slept.

Waffles were Matt's specialty, and he knew exactly how to make Y/N's favorites. Skillfully, he mixed the dough until it reached the right consistency, adding an extra dash of vanilla. When it was ready, he placed it in the toaster, ensuring they would become golden and crispy.

While they cooked, Matt carefully cut a papaya into separate slices, arranging them on a plate with a sprinkle of oat flakes and honey on top, in the exact way his girlfriend ate it every morning. Next to it, a bowl of fresh berries waited to be added.

While the delicious aroma of waffles filled the kitchen, Matt prepared the typical black coffee, adding to the scent that surrounded the room.

When everything was ready, the boy delicately organized the breakfast on the wooden table, arranging the waffles with the berries on top above the pink plate with small heart designs, the papaya next with a spoon and a Harry Potter mug with steaming coffee.

With breakfast ready, Matt dedicated himself to preparing Y/N's lunch.

He knew that she worked incessantly at the office and that, despite having an hour's lunch break, she almost never managed to complete that time - always needing to return to her desk as soon as possible, which often resulted in her not being able to eat properly, or because of the type of food or whether she needed to buy it from a restaurant.

That's the reason why, when Matt discovered this situation a little over a year ago, he started to include the task of cooking Y/N's lunches everyday, and preparing her bag to take to work.

It's easy to say that his love language was acts of service.

Matt opened the fridge and took out some of the food previously prepared the night before - rice and seasoned broccoli, before taking out the raw steak, which he would fry at that moment, choosing a healthy and nutritious dish that he knew was her favorite and simple type.

"Good morning." Nick's voice sounded behind him, the oldest triplet opting to lie down on the couch while he waited for Matt to vacate the kitchen, as he did every day.

"Morning." Matt replied in a low tone, keeping his focus on his main task, not noticing his brother slowly falling asleep while hearing him using the many utensils.

He took a frying pan from the cupboard under the sink, placing it on the stove and pouring in a small amount of olive oil, waiting a few seconds for the ceramic surface to heat up enough for him to place the beef steak, turning it slightly and once in a while, making sure it was medium cooked.

Carefully, he divided the whole meal into individual portions and placed them in vacuum-sealed containers that could be reheated in the microwave hours later, ensuring that each one remained fresh and flavorful.

Before closing Y/N's small cooler bag, Matt took a sheet of pink post-it from one of the drawers on the counter, fishing out a black pen and writing a cute little message, expressing all his love and wishes for her to have a great day, before drawing a little heart. He placed the note on top of the containers, knowing it would be the first thing Y/N would see when she opened the bag.

With everything ready, Matt placed it next to the top of the stairs that led to the front door of the house, making sure Y/N didn't forget it.

With her work clothes already on and her hair still damp, Y/N walked out of the room she shared with Matt, feeling refreshed after her morning shower. Her light footsteps echoed down the small hallway until she reached the kitchen, where she found Matt leaning on the counter, busy washing the dishes he had used to prepare her breakfast and lunch, her eyes finding momentarily Nick asleep on the couch, letting out a nasal laugh.

A warm smile lit up Y/N's face as she approached her boyfriend, enveloping him in a hug from behind, her arms encircling his bare torso, caressing the exposed skin of his belly. She rested her face on Matt's shoulder, breathing in the natural scent of his post-sleep skin.

"Thank you for taking care of me, pretty boy." Y/N whispered, planting soft kisses along his right shoulder, up to his neck. Y/N's lips left small lipstick marks along the way, making Matt blush slightly, and a silly smile formed on his face, his blue eyes shining with love.

"All for you, petal." Matt replied, turning to look at her tenderly. Their eyes met, overflowing with love and mutual admiration.

Y/N pulled away slightly so Matt could finish washing the dishes - not before kissing his lips for long seconds, finally sitting down at the table to eat the breakfast he had prepared.

As she enjoyed the waffles and coffee, they chatted idly about Y/N's company gossip and Matt's plans for that week's videos, enjoying each other's company.

Time seemed to pass faster in Matt's presence, and soon, it was time for Y/N to go to work.

"Thank you for the breakfast and lunch, honey. I love you." Y/N said goodbye with a tender kiss on her boy's lips.

"I love you more. Keep me on your mind."

"Always, babe." Y/N affirmed, promising to think about him throughout the day.

With a heart full of love and gratitude, she walked out the door with her bag in hands, ready to face another day of work, knowing that she would have Matt waiting for her when she got home.

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[meangirls-imagines]

Leap of Faith

Description: Part 2 to "Best Friends?" The roommates call an audible when they see how much the aftermath of the Incident™️ is affecting both girls. Help comes in the form of the Murray family.

WARNINGS: buckle up, this is a 2.4k word RIDE, realizations of love, reader being sad, sports injury (reader breaks her ankle), first kisses.

a month.

that's how long it had been since what leighton had deemed "d-day".

this was the longest she had ever gone without talking to y/n and leighton was hurting. she broke things off with alicia after the incident happened. it wasn't pretty. 

hurtful things were said, alicia flipped a coffee table and had to be escorted out of the dorm building by jackson, who kimberly luckily had at the ready when things turned south.

her roommates could see this was taking a toll on the blonde, the trio trying their best to keep leighton's spirits up. whitney was really the only one who got to see how it was affecting both girls. 

y/n, in whitney's opinion, was doing worse than leighton was. whitney rarely saw the girl outside of practice and the one class they had together. she had heard through the grapevine that y/n hadn't slept in days, maybe weeks. all she had been doing was going to class, practice and the gym.

had she tried to talk to y/n? yes. but to no avail. the girl had brushed her off every single attempt. whitney had no idea what to do. she talked to bela and kimberly and they formed a plan.

they were going to get the girls together.

leighton was pleasantly surprised when she saw her dad and nico sitting outside her dorm on a bench, seemingly waiting for her. she walked up to them and immediately was pulled into a hug by nico.

"leighton! there's my beautiful sister." the blonde was confused but hugged her brother back. once he released her, her dad pulled her into his arms. "hi guys. not that i'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?" the two shared a secret look with each other. "we wanted to visit and say hi. your mom is here too, but she went to talk to the kappa president about something."

the blonde looked suspicious but shrugged it off. the two men kept talking as they guided leighton to their suv that was parked near by, planning on taking her to lunch. the blonde allowed them to, finally relaxing for the first time in weeks. 

y/n shot another ball into the back of the net at full force. practice had ended over an hour ago and she was still kicking penalty shots, trying to get her frustration out. her body was exhausted and threatened to shut down at any moment, but y/n stayed fueled with energy drinks. she had jogged after the ball she had been practicing with when a voice yelled out.

"i knew you'd be here." 

y/n froze. she hadn't heard that voice in a while. she slowly turned to see a woman taking off a pair of designer sunglasses, staring into y/n's soul.

there she stood, in all her glory. mimi murray. y/n audibly gulped at the woman staring at her. she slowly walked towards the woman, kinda like a scared puppy. the woman looked at y/n and cupped her cheeks. "have you been sleeping? eating?" y/n opened her mouth to answer when mimi put her hand up to stop her. 

"no. you don't need to answer, i already know. grab your stuff. we have plans." y/n nodded and quickly grabbed her stuff, not wanting to disappoint the woman more than she probably had.

with leighton, nico, and henry, the trio were out eating at an italian restaurant half an hour away from campus. the two men noticed how quiet leighton had gotten, asking her if everything was okay. she spilled everything to them, the men looking at her sadly. "leighton, i'm gonna be honest with you, i'm surprised it took you this long to catch on."

leighton looked at her dad surprised. "what do you mean?" her dad sighed. "i had a feeling a while ago that she had feelings for you. and then the feeling was confirmed last year. remember when that alex guy came to our house to ask you to prom?" leighton frowned. "yeah?"

y/n and leighton were hanging out in the living room of the murray household. since it was the spring, soccer season had taken over most of y/n's schedule, leaving her barely any room to hang out with the blonde. so, every rare weekend that y/n had off, she spent at leighton's house. 

as the two sat on the couch cuddling and watching a movie, the doorbell rang. thinking it was one of nico's friends, the girls ignored it. until leighton's dad came in. "hey leight, there's someone here for you." confused, the two girls got up, walking to the front door where alex hightower stood at leighton's door with a huge sign and a bag of leighton's favorite treats. the sign read "it would be a treat if you went to prom with me". y/n's heart dropped to her stomach as leighton smiled at the boy, accepting his invite. 

she was hoping to gather enough courage to ask leighton if she just wanted to go together as friends. she visibly deflated as leighton spoke excitedly with alex about prom plans. henry was standing off to the side watching it all unfold. he saw how y/n reacted to the proposal and his heart broke a little bit. 

alex eventually left as leighton dragged y/n up to her room to have the girl help her plan her dress. henry saw as y/n plastered on a fake smile and allowed the girl to drag her up the stairs. 

when he woke up the next morning, y/n had already left. a few weeks later, as leighton danced with her date and scanned the room looking for y/n, her heart breaking when she didn't see her anywhere. y/n sat at home alone, looking on instagram and seeing how happy leighton looked. in that moment, y/n made sure that leighton kept that happiness with her, no matter how much it hurt her.

leighton's heart broke at the revelation. she had no idea she was the reason y/n didn't go to prom. it broke even more when she thought of y/n wanting to ask her to prom. she definitely would've had the perfect prom with y/n. nico and henry looked at leighton. nico spoke up. "leighton, y/n has been in love with you since you guys met. she has dedicated this friendship to making you happy, even though it kills her. and i think you love her too."

leighton was crying at this point. henry scooting closer to her and pulling his daughter into his side. "leighton, honey. you wanna know what i think you should do?" the blonde sniffled and nodded. "take the leap. go after her. you two are made for each other. you need each other more than you know. take the first step and get your girl." leighton sniffled and nodded. 

they paid for lunch and headed back to campus. on the drive back, ideas ran through leighton's head on how she could take the leap. a light bulb went off in her head and she smiled. 

she knew exactly what to do.

with mimi and y/n, the older woman took the girl to the best spa in town. after she had received a mysterious phone call from leighton's roommate, she listened as the girl told her what happened between y/n and her daughter and how y/n wasn't taking care of herself. her protective mom side came out and she cancelled any meetings she had for the rest of the day and headed to essex. 

now, the two sat in the steam room together, fresh out of their swedish massage sessions. mimi decided to break the ice first. "so, what happened between you and leighton?" y/n froze again. "we had a fight last month. i haven't talked to her since." mimi nodded. "did this fight have to do with the fact that you're in love with my daughter?"

y/n's head whipped around to look at the older woman nervously. "w-what?" mimi looked at the girl smirking. "i know more than you think. i also know that my daughter is also in love with you." y/n's jaw dropped. "no she doesn't. she's dating someone else." mimi shook her head. "nope. she called me the night you guys had the fight and told me that she broke up with that anna girl." 

y/n chuckled. "you mean alicia?" mimi waved the girl off. "same thing. she told me that the breakup didn't go well with alicia." y/n's heart dropped to her stomach at the thought of what might've happened. she shook her head. "so what if she broke up with her? she's not in love with me." mimi sighed. "yes she is. don't you remember what happened a couple of years ago?"

leighton murray was NOT a school spirit person. 

except when it came to y/n. 

when it came to y/n, leighton and her parents would be in the front row of the stands. leighton would be draped in whatever jersey y/n wasn't wearing, her soccer letterman, and the blonde would even go the extra mile and paint her face in school colors. she loved watching y/n play soccer. especially when y/n got extra sweaty. (leighton would daydream about other instances where y/n would be sweaty but she would never admit that.) 

this certain game, spence was playing their cross town rivals, st. john academy. the game was intense, both teams receiving multiple cards before halftime. y/n was getting pushed around and tackled more than usual and every time she hit the ground, leighton would lose a little off her life.

it all culminated in the 40th minute of the game. y/n was sprinting down the field with the ball at her feet, no defenders in front of her, ready to put spence in the lead. a defender from st. john had caught up to her and slid into a dirty tackle. y/n was blindsided as the defender's cleat came in at full speed and force to y/n's ankle.

there was a pop, a scream, and a thud as y/n fell in a heap to the ground, not before bouncing her head off the field. leighton couldn't breathe. she squeezed nico's hand extremely tight as the boy tried to calm her down. the second the ref waved her hand for the medics, leighton was out of her seat, sprinting to the field. 

coach smith met her at the sideline and ran over to y/n with her. the girl was writhing in pain on the ground, tears streaming from her face. the medics began prepping her ankle to transport her to the hospital. leighton kneeled next to her head. "y/n. hey, you're gonna be okay. i promise." the blonde took y/n's hand, squeezing it gently to let her know she was there. y/n squeezed back as her head pounded and her ankle throbbed. 

the medics eventually moved her to the ambulance where leighton demanded to ride with them, texting her parents to meet them at the hospital.

leighton never left y/n's side during her recovery. so when senior year rolled around, leighton was where she always was, front row, letterman on, watching her best friend take the field for the last time in her high school career. 

y/n was pulled out of the vivid flashback by mimi. "i knew leighton was in love with you when that happened. she was glued to your side that whole year you recovered. she had multiple guys ask her out on dates and she always shot them down. she always drove you to physical therapy. i knew then that if leighton, who refused to go near one of us when we're sick, was doing all of this for you being hurt, she loved you." 

y/n's heart raced. maybe mimi was right. but, had she ruined it with the fight they had last month? mimi noticed the hesitation on her face and stood. y/n looked at her confused. "where are you going?" mimi turned and smiled at the girl. "i'm taking you back to campus to get your girl."

y/n walked back to her dorm, more relaxed than when she left that morning. maybe she would sleep on it and make a decision from there. she pulled her keys out to unlock the door, eagerly wanting to get into bed. when she opened the door, the sight before her took her breath away.

leighton had crafted a blanket fort in the common room of y/n's dorm, fairy lights and all. y/n could see that leighton had gotten her favorite takeout, including dessert, she had a bottle of wine (that she convinced her dad to buy), and her laptop had disney plus queued up with the movie they always watched together, cinderella.

y/n looked at the blonde, who stood nervously by the couch. she was wearing one of y/n's soccer hoodies and some sweatpants. y/n had never seen her look more beautiful than she did in that moment. leighton smiled shyly at her. "hi. i know you're probably still mad at me but i've missed you and i couldn't stay away from you any longer so i did all this so hopefully you would forgive me? it's totally cool if you don't-"

y/n strode across the room and pulled leighton into her arms. she was taller than the blonde so she buried her face in leighton's hair. the blonde relaxed into y/n's arms, tucking her face in the crook of her neck. "i missed you too bubbles." leighton smiled at the nickname. they pulled away from the hug as leighton looked up at y/n. 

in a last second idea, leighton leaned up and kissed y/n, catching the girl off guard. y/n quickly relaxed into the kiss, sparks flying behind her eyes. the two kissed for a few minutes and pulled away. 

"i love you. i think i always have but i was too scared to admit it. but i've always had this weird feeling when i'm with you. i can't explain it, but i know it's a good feeling. and it's a feeling i don't want to ever lose. i wanna be yours, y/n. forever, if you'll have me."

y/n smiled wide and pulled leighton in for another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. "you have no idea how long i've waited to hear those words, bubbles." leighton smiled at the girl. "well, buttercup, get ready to hear them forever." the two kissed again, their passion slowly bleeding into the night.

the couple could never figure out what came over leighton's family to show up that day. 

they would find out years later.

in a speech, surrounded by their friends and loved ones.

with matching rings on their left hands.