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#or blink at me like I've got two fucking heads when i ask you to consider that
sentientcave · 2 days
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It's wip wednesday once again. Have a little more Rugby! Just a short segment bc I'm actually getting close to finishing it and posting the whole thing. Sorry it's mostly dialogue a lot of the other stuff gets added in the editing stages lmao
We join Ripper at his office job... (Your welcome to anyone who thinks Ripper would look hot in a suit. Because he absolutely would)
You're eyeing the clock as it crawls just past 4:15, when someone knocks on your office door. "Come in," you call, reopening exel on your computer so it at least looks like you're doing something productive.
"Hey, pally," Brandon says cheerfully, throwing your door open and sitting in the chair in front of your desk. "How's things?"
A social visit? Brandon is the boss's nephew, and a right idiot. You steer clear, generally, and he's mostly left you alone thus far. "Uh. Fine. Headed out soon."
"Rugby on Friday," he says.
You frown at him. Why would he know that? "Uh. Yeah?"
His grin widens. "Your team's playin' mine. Think you've got a chance?"
You think of Simon and Johnny, and the way they can plow through the opposing team. You didn't even know Brandon played. "Uh. Yeah. Figure we do."
"Care to make it interesting?"
A bet? Is that what he interrupted your day for? "Guess I'd put a tenner on it."
He shakes his head, like you’re being ridiculous. "That wouldn't be very interesting, would it?"
He's angling for something, but it's hard to tell what, exactly. "You have stakes in mind?"
"I do. Figure if my team wins, you'll let me take you out for dinner. If yours does, we can, I dunno, switch offices? Two windows in mine. Your little houseplants might like that." He wiggles his fingers at the plants you have hanging in and sitting in front of the window (Spiderplant Georg, Pontius Pilea, and Monstera Mash. Not that you had ever told anyone in the office that you’d named them).
"Dinner?" You ask. "With you?" It's an insane notion. You barely speak to him. You don't want to speak to him.
"Course with me." He grins at you again, propping his feet up on your desk, leaning back in his chair.
You blink at him. "You're kidding."
"What, you don't think I haven't noticed the way you fill out that suit? You're a little unit, Ripley. Wouldn't mind seeing you outside the office now and again."
"I've got a boyfriend," you say automatically. "It wouldn't be anything more than just dinner."
"We'll see."
You hate him for the way he smiles at you, like he doesn't believe you for a second. You're going to have to ask yet another favour, and see if Johnny or Simon will pretend to be your boyfriend. "Well, I'll take the bet. Wouldn't mind two windows."
He sets his feet down and sticks his hand across the desk. "Can't wait to take you out. We'll have fun."
You stand up to shake his hand, glancing at the clock again. Time to go, thank fucking god. “You’re gonna lose, you know. And even if you don’t, there’s no way Simon won’t sit across the restaurant and glare at you the whole time we have dinner.” Internally, you kick yourself for saying Simon. Johnny’s the more obvious choice, and easier to approach for a favour like that too.
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my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻
Promises, Promises.
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warnings - smut. cursing.
I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.
"What's wrong, honey?"
"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"
Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?
"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."
The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.
"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"
He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.
"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."
"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.
"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."
"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."
You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.
"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."
"I'm... what?"
"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."
You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.
"Is that so?"
"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."
He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.
"He's wrong."
"Is that so?"
You roll your eyes.
"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."
"And why not?"
"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."
Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.
"He's your age."
"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."
He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.
"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"
Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.
"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."
"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."
"Me too."
Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.
He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.
Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.
You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.
"Strip."
You blink at him, processing.
"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."
You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.
Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.
"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"
"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."
"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."
You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.
"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."
"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."
He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.
"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"
You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"
The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.
"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."
His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.
"House first."
"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.
"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."
He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.
You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.
You'll deal with the repercussions later.
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boiohboii · 1 month
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If she's around.
(Lando norris x leclerc!reader)
When lando decides to make a video along with two of his friends for their YouTube channel his girl of course had to make an appearance
or
In which ethan and ginge are always reminded of the fact that they are single.
Masterlist
N.b: just inspired by the new quadrant video, I loved it, obviously I have no idea if ginge or ethan are single or not, but for the purpose of this fic they don't... WARNINGS: not proof read, some swear words here and there (friends jokingly insulting each other), sexual implicantions?.... and I think that's it? If I missed anything else lmk please.
Ethan and Ginge did not think this through. They obviously got too excited about the idea and did not sit down to actually think about the consequences.
What are the consequences? That damn breakfast that Lando Norris is having them eat.
"This is criminal mate, I can see some good fucking food in there."
Ginge complained as he placed the cup underneath his nose, trying to see if the smell is as bad as the food looks.
"Ah no no, I can't give you that."
"Well, why not? It sure as hell doesn't look like you threw it up."
"That's the missus' breakfast, she'll kill me if I let you eat it."
Now, lando was just messing around. Yn was well aware of the fact that his friends were coming over and she prepared extra food in case they deviate from the video's plan.
"The missus?" Ginge asked as he took the spoon from the f1 driver "who is she? And why have I never seen her before?"
"What are you talking about, you've seen her before."
"I think I'd remember if I've seen a girlfriend of yours mate."
"You have ginge." Ethan answered as he looked at the red head "in one of the streams."
Farrowing his eyebrows ginge tried to remember, he was sure he had never seen lando with a girl before, he would definitely remember if- oh. oh. oh.
"No," ginge gasped as he looked at lando with uncertainty "no way mate. She is not your girlfriend."
"Umm, yes she is."
"No she's not."
"Yes, she is!"
"No, no she's not! She is too pretty for you."
Ethan chocked as he looked at Lando's disbelief of what his friend has said.
"Don't look at me like that! You know that she is too pretty for you"
Blinking, lando shrugged in agreement.
"Simp" ginge scoffed as he took a bite out of his breakfast.
"Well, i don't blame him man, have you seen yn."
"Looks like I will double the weights during training" lando has malice behind his smile, which made the two instantly shut up.
Interview room(ANGRYGINGE has a fear of flying)
" I'll be honest, I still believe that yn leclerc is way too pretty for lando. Like yeah sure he's an f1 driver but like aren't 2 of her brothers drivers as well. It would be so funny if they crashed into lando if he pissed her of or made her sad or something, a whole new meaning to the I will run you over threat."
"What time do you go to bed?"
"Ummm, depends."
"On?"
"If the missus is around, dirty bastard." Ginge answered "now, be honest, what time did you go to bed last night?"
"It was, um, it was early."
"You are lying through your teeth mate, I can see those dark circles."
"Hello boys."
"Dirty bastard." Ginge and ethan laughed harder at the coincidence.
"Hello love." Lando chuckled at her confused face as he pecked her forehead.
"What is going on?" Leaning onto his chest, yn looked at the two guests, wondering about their choice of words being the response to her greetings.
"Oh don't worry about it," wrapping his arm around her waist Lando rests his chin on her head " they were just asking if you being with me makes me go to bed at a later time than usual."
"Oh," yn giggled "i guess they're right? Sometimes we stay up reading a book or watching a movie, it depends on what's near us on the bedside table."
"Alright," lando started before taping yn's stomach and pointing to the firdge " you should have your breakfast and we should go back to what we were doing, yeah?"
Humming in agreement, yn turned around and leaned up to give lando a kiss on the cheek, but upon hearing ginge groan, the formula driver grabbed his girlfriend's neck from the front, redirecting her head so that their lips would meet.
"Oh come on mate, no need to rub it in!"
Being in the small makeshift home gym that lando has, the three brits started discussing what exercises they would be doing.
"First we'll start with a warm up, normally there's a few bands" looking around the room, lando tried to remember where he placed them last "they might be in our bedroom."
"How did the workout band made it into the bedroom?" Ethan asked as he started wiggling his eyebrows at ginge.
"Hey sweetheart," Lando's voice could be heard calling out "do you know where my exercise bands are?"
"They're in the bedroom," yn exclaimed "on your bedside table."
Ethan's eyebrows stopped mid movements while ginge's jaw dropped down "went to bed early lando, ehh, yeah yeah sure!"
Monitoring his friends' forms in a workout was not lando thought he would be doing on a day off where yn was with him without one of her brother's breathing down their necks. Speaking of his lovely girlfriend, lando saw her in one of his mclaren shirts and a short in the hallway, on her way to their bedroom he'd assume, with a bowl of what was either watermelons or strawberries.
"Sweetheart," lando spoke, ignoring the task at hand "can I have some please?"
"Of course mon soleil"
Entering the room, yn took a look at both boys before going straight to her boyfriend. Lando's friends were glaring daggers at him as he just placed his hand on the back of yn's hands as she placed a piece of watermelon in his mouth, making him hum pleasantly at the sweetness that filled his mouth.
"This is so unfair." Ginge complained
"I know mate, such bullshit, we should get to eat that as well."
"Yeah sure." lando agreed as yn placed another piece in his awaiting mouth.
"Well, now you're just being a dick. Come on yn, I want some as well."
"Are you asking my girl to feed you?"
"You're not letting me out of this workout anytime soon now, are you?"
"I think you should add weights onto their backs," yn stated as she smiled innocently at ginge and ethan "Charles, Arthur and Enzo always fo that to each other for the hell of it."
"Oh, you are evil miss leclerc, truly evil."
Ethan watched as lando told ginge to not lean with the weights pushing his neck, it was tough and they only had like a third of what lando usually does.
"So, who usually does this with you? Like you have to have someone to like push the weights, right?"
"Yeah yeah, usually it's my trainer, but then when something comes up or I just feel like training on my own it's yn who's helping."
"Oh look at him just rubbing it in that he has a girlfriend."
"Oh god," lando laughed in disbelief "you're the one who asked."
"The important question is," ginge started as he removed the equipment from his forehead "can yn do this? Like the neck training."
Lando stayed quite, thinking if he'd ever seen his girlfriend doing it or if her or her brothers ever mentioned that she does it. "No, I don't think so. Hold on."
Leaving the room, lando headed into the bedroom having a quick discussion away from the camera and the mics.
"So," lando said as he entered the room with yn behind him "yn will be doing the neck training, we'll go with 5 kilos."
"How about 10?" Yn asked as she took a seat on the bench
"What?"
"Well, for a while charles was convinced I'd get into a car crash and he took me training with him for like a year or something, it was insane."
"I'm sorry, what?"
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queerpumpkinnn · 9 months
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Two Doors Down
2.5k words
Summary: Your vibrator dies mid-session, so your roommate offers to help you out.
Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: smut obviously, dom/sub dynamics, brief use of a vibrator, brief dry humping, cunnilingus, slight hair pulling (bucky receiving), pet names (sweet ones like honey, baby, etc. but also some on the more degrading side),scratching (bucky receiving), a healthy dose of degradation, nipple play, finger sucking, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, dumbification, slight edging but if you blink you'll miss it, let me know if I'm missing something!
While listening, I recommend you listen to enemies to lovers - a Spotify playlist by me!
~
"God fucking damn it!"
Your frustrated curse echoed off the walls of your bedroom, followed by a dull thump of your vibrator falling on the mattress. You sat up begrudgingly and flopped over the bed, reaching for the charger and plugging in the toy.
You huffed, sitting on the bed for a few moments before tugging your shorts back on and standing, leaving your bedroom to go explore the great unknown: your apartment.
The sound of the television was more audible when your door opened, the white and blue lights from the TV tinting the entire living room and kitchen area in a cold glow. While your eyes needed a second to adjust to the change from the dim, warm light of your room, Bucky, your roommate, was staring blankly at the television, listening to the newscaster droning on while sifting through a bowl of cereal with a spoon.
You didn't greet him, despite the tiny alarm in your head telling you it was bad manners. You stomped past him, headed for the fridge to find leftover pasta. Once a bowl was heated up, you stomped around over to the couch, flopping down beside him.
Bucky raised a brow. "You doin' alright?" He asked through a mouthful of cereal.
"Yeah."
"Then stop stabbing your pasta."
You looked down to see your fork digging into the bottom of the bowl, spearing through the noodles with more aggression than was necessary.
"I'm fine."
"Wanna tell me?"
Your mind raced just at the thought of his suggestion. "No. Nothing's wrong."
"Ah." He turned back to the television, one leg crossing over the other. "Thought it might have somethin' to do with your vibrator dying on you."
You nearly choked, head whipping around to watch him incredulously. "How-"
"TV ain't on that loud." He snorted.
You buried your face in your palms, cheeks warm. Bucky only laughed at your mortification.
"Hey, it's all good." Bucky waved a hand in dismissal, you caught it as you lifted your head. Your gaze somehow got stuck on it, specifically, his fingers. The thought of them on you made the heat in between your legs flare up again. You could practically feel them tilting your chin up, tugging your hips closer, prodding into your cunt...
Bucky seemed to notice your sudden interest, looking between your eyes to his hand and back with curiosity. He let out a soft 'ah', a grin of delight splitting his face. When you finally clocked in on his understanding, silent but knowing, you looked down in what was definitely the least subtle way possible.
"Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I can't remember a time when hands didn't get the job done."
That didn't help your embarrassment, and for some reason you continued the conversation. "Well, I can't get the right angle..."
Bucky exhaled, passing his tongue over his teeth. "Tell me to shut up if I've got the wrong idea. But I have hands." You peeked out from your hands. He wiggled his metal fingers slowly as if to prove the obvious. "I think you've noticed."
All of the thoughts you'd wrestled with moments ago came flooding in again. Sparks of excitement shot down your belly, and you swore your heartrate doubled.
You attempted to keep an even voice, but nonchalance definitely escaped you for the timebeing. "So... what's your point?"
You were terrified you might have misread the situation. That this excitement would die down and you'd be left wanting him. You needed him to tell you.
"My point is," Bucky uncrossed his legs, turning to face you and leaning forward. "That I'm offering to do what your vibrator can't."
You were shivering with excitement, voice shaking as you sighed,
"Please."
Bucky stood slowly, pushing off of the couch with his hands. His gaze was fixated on you, bordering on ravenous as he eyed you up and down. He relished the way your eyes followed his, and as a result, when he finally towered over you, he was met with a sight that made his cock throb.
You could feel your head turning cloudy, anticipation bubbling in your stomach as you peered up at Bucky. A single, metal hand came up to your chin, stroking slowly over the bone. Your eyes fluttered, leaning into his touch.
"Poor thing." Bucky tutted, shaking your head side to side a bit. "So pitiful. Can't even get off right, needs a toy to get the job done."
You whimpered when he used his grip on your jaw to make you nod yes.
"Shh, you're okay. 'M right here, gonna take good care of you. Yeah?"
"Yeah," you replied weakly.
"Good." Bucky let go of your face, opting to sit on the couch instead, legs spread wide. He patted one of his thighs, gesturing with the other. "C'mon, take a seat."
You crawled over him, hands resting on his shoulders tentatively. Bucky traced a finger up the column of your throat, sending a shiver down your spine. The pressure on the underside of your jaw brought your gaze upwards.
"Gonna need you to keep your eyes on me, dove, think y'can do that?"
You nodded slowly, itching to move but frozen in place by his attention.
"Good." Bucky's hand was a whisper around your throat, quickly finding its home again on your jaw. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip, to which your mouth fell open oh so slightly.
His lips quirked in amusement. His thumb pressed down, earning your jaw lowering further. Two fingers slipped past your lips to settle on your tongue and you happily took them, one hand coming to hold his wrist in place while you suckled.
His free hand began rising up your hips, and you straightened your posture at the feeling, almost tickling. They descended just after his thumb grazed your lower chest. You gasped around his fingers, and his subtle raise of brow made your cheeks heat.
You squeezed his wrist, and it moved from your mouth to your waist. Hands reaching for the back of his neck, you tugged him forward into a sloppy kiss.
Bucky wasn't sure where the line was before. He understood that he had struck a purely sexual deal offer, so kissing for some might be too intimate an exchange under those circumstances, but Christ did he love the feel of your mouth on his. The clash of teeth and spit, your soft moans swallowed up into his own mouth sounding like heaven. Even more so when he sucked on your tongue, pride coursing through his veins when you squeaked.
And oh, you just couldn't help it, when you started rocking your hips back and forth. It was his fault really, teasing you so much.
"So fuckin' needy, angel, just can't wait, huh?" Bucky groaned, head falling back for a minute before jerking back up. "Need to get you taken care of, isn't that right?"
You nodded pathetically, brain long turned to mush. Your senses, every atom in your body was on fire and so, so sensitive, but your head was empty.
And Bucky knew it.
Which is why he lifted you up, strong hands supporting you under the thighs, which wrapped around his torso to keep you up. Bucky groaned, the feel of your legs around his waist sending blood rushing to his cock.
It was a messy trip to your room, to say the least. Bucky had to stop multiple times in the hallway to press you up against the wall and stick his tongue in your throat, rutting into you and breathing heavy into your mouth. His groans were pure sin and you wanted to pull as many of them from him as you could.
Bucky set you down gently, but as you laid, he remained, towering over you with hungry eyes and bated breath.
"Look at you," Bucky grazed his metal fingers over your cheek. "So fuckin' needy, hm? So desperate, you just hop on the first dick you see."
His words didn't even register, not when his leg was pressed right between your legs, so you nodded along dumbly.
He chuckled, almost a bark of a laugh. "Lucky I'm here to take care of you, hm?"
"Yeah," you sighed, your feeble grip on his shirt attempting to tug him closer. "Please, Bucky, need you to take care of me, please..."
"Alright, alright, I've gotcha." Bucky leaned in, pressing wet kisses to your neck whilst his fingers slipped under your shirt, grazing feather-light over your nipples. You could feel him smirk when you arched into his touch.
"Can we take this off, baby?" His voice was soft, and you nodded, pulling your hands up so he could bare your chest.
Bucky gave a groan at the sight, his mouth traveling downward to press licks and kisses over your chest. He pressed his palm over your ribs, indicating you to lie back. Bucky followed, propped up on his arm. His other hand walked up the inside of your thigh, making you shudder into him.
"Buck, please," you breathed, eyes rolling back.
"Nuh uh, none of that." Bucky's hand was quick to reach up and grasp your jaw, this time with more force. "Eyes on me."
He nodded your head for you. He maintained a more intense stare as he moved, slowly and deliberately, down between your thighs. He watched you as he kissed up and down your thighs, pressed his thumb into the junction between your cunt and your leg, pressed a firm kiss to the area just above your clit. Your hips jerked up, following his touch.
"I know, I know. Bein' so patient, so proud of you." Bucky purred, tugging your bottoms down in one go. "And would you look at that, no underwear. God, you're soaked."
Bucky actually moaned at the sight, like the idea of going down on you was pleasurable for him. And Lord, was it.
He started with, for lack of better word, toying with you, thumbs pulling your lips apart to watch your slick web from them. Even though he wasn't watching your face anymore, your eyes were glued to him. His fascinated expression, his strong arms holding your legs apart, his toned back rippling under every movement- somewhere along the line he had lost the shirt; you couldn't remember when but Christ was it better he did.
You nearly levitated off the bed when a finger came to collect your slick onto your clit, followed by lips attaching to the nerves and tonguing over it lasciviously.
Your hesitancy to make noise had gone out the window the minute his mouth was on you, jaw falling open to let out your sounds of bliss. The only thing keeping your head from falling back was the sight in front of you; Bucky was pure sex incarnate. His head swayed back and forth, groans and muffled praises vibrating against your skin, hair tickling your thighs.
"Taste so damn good angel, so fuckin' wet." Bucky tugged you impossibly closer- you swore you saw his hips moving into the sheets. "Should let your vibrator die more often."
Your breath had all but escaped you, coming out ragged and whiny. Your hands reached for his hair, tugging at the roots softly- harder when he groaned louder, sending both of you into a frenzy.
"Fuck, Bucky, right there, fuckfuckfuck-" your noises, if even possible, got louder when the man under you found just the right spot to prod his finger. It slipped in so easily, the wetness helping you welcome him in.
It didn't take Bucky long to figure out where that spot was inside of you, pulling moan after gasp after cry of his name once he bullied his fingers into it just right. He repeated the motion until there was a sheen of sweat on your forehead, grasping onto his hair, his arm, whatever of him you could find as if he was your lifeline.
"Oh, just like that, so close Buck..." You kicked your hips up into his face, rolling them for any kind of friction you could get- friction he was elated to give you.
You nearly sobbed when he pulled his face away from you, fingers leaving your pussy feeling unbearably empty.
"I know, honey, I know. Gonna give you something even better, hm? Gonna give you my cock, fill y'up real nice."
You almost drooled at the sight of Bucky sat up, nothing but sweats being hastily pulled down until the bulge fell heavily over the band. He kicked his bottoms away to some forgotten corner, stroking himself languidly a few times, kicking his head back.
You whined a bit at the lack of attention, thighs pressing together. That seemed to have alerted Bucky, as he tilted his head back down to face you. "Sorry, sunshine. Won't keep you waitin' any longer, yeah?"
Bucky lined himself up with you, teasing your sopping entrance with the tip. However, when your legs hooked around his waist, just like before, all notions of control were lost on him as he sheathed himself inside of you. A guttural groan, more sensual and more animalistic than before, ripped through him and sent sparks shooting into you. He stretched you deliciously, the friction electrifying.
"Don't fuckin' clench, holy shit- not gonna last long," Bucky huffed, rocking slowly into you. He was leaned over your body, almost folding you in half so that he could mutter filthy praises into your ear, tonguing at the shell of it lightly.
If he wasn't gonna last, what could be said of you? Your orgasm was approaching fast, if your throbbing cunt and frantic moans were any indication.
"There we go, y'gonna cum? Fuckin' cum for me, honey, make a mess on my cock, go on."
White-hot pleasure drowned you as you scratched faint pink lines down Bucky's chest. This time your eyes screwed shut, but Bucky chose instead to help you ride out your high, pistoning into you until he let himself go, filling you up in a way that left you feeling warm and full and very, very satisfied.
Only the sound of yours and Bucky's panting could be heard in the room, the air suddenly thick and musky with the smell of sex.
After a moment, he pulls out, murmuring 'shit' to himself a few times. "Gonna get you cleaned up, 'kay?" Bucky pressed a kiss to your temple, picking his boxers up on the way to his ensuite bathroom and coming back with a rag a minute later.
"Feeling alright?" Bucky asks. "Didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No, you were great." You huffed, a stupid hazy grin tugging your lips. "Bit thirsty, that's about it."
"Noted," he mused. "I meant it, by the way."
You cocked your head. "Meant what?"
"You should let your vibrator die more often. I'm just two doors down, and I reckon I know a few more tricks than that piece of junk you've got." He gestures to the vibrator, which had fallen onto the floor at some point.
You definitely made sure to keep that in mind.
~
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Marvel Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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ew-selfish-art · 9 months
Text
Dp x Dc AU: Danny's final Interview with Tim Drake for the Wayne Enterprise's Space Program Operation Janus Crew... Demon Twin AU.
Danny had been waiting for his offer letter from WE to be officially part of the Janus Crew. He'd done all the standard rigorous testing and passed with flying colors. He'd talked to every single head engineer and interviewed at all levels to prove that he was the man for this mission. It was as good as gold, so Danny was surprised when he got a call from the PA to Tim Drake, the CEO himself, to come in for a final interview. Just a formality and mostly just to meet the man who was going to be the poster boy for their program. Makes sense, but is unnerving, nonetheless.
The second he walks into the office space, Tam Fox seemingly does a double take, blinking a few times when he explains that he's there for a final interview. She nods and he proceeds as if nothing about that was weird.
Tim Drake has four laptops in front of him and a scattering of papers, but looking up to see Danny, he closes them all and the image of a scattered young man trying to run a Fortune 500 company is replaced with some one of deadly capability.
"Danny Fenton. Great to meet you, I appreciate you coming by today." Tim says, but Danny can see the sharks fin in the water.
"Of course, I'm excited to be part of the Crew." Danny throws back, making it clear right away that Tim needs to cut to the chase if Danny's not going to be an astronaut with WE. NASA will take him back in a heartbeat if WE is going to try and play games.
"We're excited to have you, everyone speaks of you like the next Armstrong or Aldrin. I just had a few questions, as an informality, that I wanted answered."
"I feel like I've answered every question there could be about me, but go ahead. I'm an open book."
"Great. I suppose I'll start with asking about your adoptive family, the Fentons. Were they good to you when you transitioned to their home?"
"...It's not common knowledge that I'm adopted. Mom and Dad are fine. We have a strained relationship now because of my teenage rebellion but I still go home for most holidays." Danny is on edge, but also a bit excited? How did Tim find this out?
"I see. I'm an adopted child myself, you can understand maybe why I asked. Do you have any relationship with your birth family?" Tim asks, but its clear he's asking something else. Danny calls it how he sees it.
"What are you trying to find out? I mean really, you're very polite but this doesn't have to do with my job."
"I'll cut to the chase then. Do you hold any allegiance to Ra's al Ghul or the League of Assassins?"
"Woah." Danny blinks.
"Woah as in you're surprised I found out, or Woah in surprise that you've been found out?"
"Woah as in, what the fuck, I haven't thought of his name in decades. I escaped pretty young after being abused from birth."
"That's what I needed to know. You have a sister through the Fentons, and a cousin that I suspect is a clone, any other siblings?" Tim asks, his to the point question making Danny's head spin. How the fuck did this guy know about Dani?
"How do you-"
"Any other siblings, Danny?" Tim repeats, cutting him off.
"...Yeah. I should have a twin running around out there. But if this has to do with whatever crazy bullshit he might be up to, I swear i'm not in contact with him or his family. I haven't been since I freed myself."
Tim looks like he's contemplating something, his eyes are still evaluating Danny as though he were a frog in freshman year Bio.
"I have a little brother, Danny, and it's interesting. He's not particularly fascinated by space but he likes to keep up with all the astronauts. I took it upon myself to research you once you came on the roster two years ago for this position. I know you're capable and I had no doubt that you'd be the man for the job. Then I saw your picture."
"You... saw my picture?"
"My brother watches out for Astronauts because he holds onto the hope that someone from his past might be one some day. That it might lead to their reconciliation." Tim clarifies.
Danny can't do anything but stare. No. No way.
"I told Damian not to look into the astronauts for the Janus Crew. Want to guess why?" For the first time, Tim's eyes look soft around the edges. Danny stays silent for a while, head reeling from this information.
"...Is he. Is he free?" Danny finally asks.
"He's left the league and burned all allegiance he held for them, if that's what you're asking. Came to join his dad, my adoptive father, when he was about ten. So just a few years after you made your own way out without him."
"That's... That's good. I'm glad. He's healthy?" Danny can't help himself but inquire. He'd loved his brother until it literally broke him.
"Most days. He runs an animal sanctuary, has a girlfriend and a best friend, gets along with our large family."
"Woah." Danny's near speechless again.
"I'm telling you this because... He's going to find out Friday with the press release of you being our Crew Leader. He'll see you and no doubt try to contact you. I want you to have the choice of reaching out to him before that, or at least make your peace with what you have to say to him if you don't want a relationship."
"Why?"
"Because I don't care to see my siblings hurt. Here, it's my personal line, below it is Damian's. Reach out to me if you'd like for me to plan a meeting spot, reach out to him if you'd prefer I stay out of it. I understand completely if my questions have led you to not trust me." Tim offers him a piece of paper with two phone numbers on it, Danny takes it with shaking hands.
"I... See. Okay." and then after a moment, Danny added numbly "Thanks."
Tim stands and Danny follows, they're both walking towards the door and Danny can't help but feel like he's waiting for another shoe to drop. Tim has a look in his eye like Jazz might on his birthday.
"One last thing before you go and you're officially listed as our star Astronaut: I took care of those pesky case files and lab reports for you. The white ones. It is quite literally impossible for that heinous shit to every bother you again."
"Wait, What? Why would you do that for me? You couldn't have known-"
"It's what family is for. Have a good day, Janus Crew Lead Danny."
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.
He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.
More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.
Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.
He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.
"Harrington?"
The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"
"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.
Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.
Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."
"Just needed some air. Clear my head."
"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.
"One or two,"
"Dozen?"
Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"
Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."
"Yeah, big news."
"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.
Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.
He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"
The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).
Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.
With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."
He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.
---
Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?
That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.
The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.
Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.
It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.
The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.
A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.
Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.
---
The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.
When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.
"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.
Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.
"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.
"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.
"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"
Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.
"It was you? Leaving the--?"
Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"
"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."
"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.
"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."
Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"
"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."
Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.
"Didn't want me to think what?"
"That you weren't loved, Stevie."
The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.
"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.
"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"
"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.
Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."
The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"
"Yeah, Stevie?"
"You wanna hangout some time?"
Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."
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justrustandstardust · 2 months
Text
*✧:*one, two, three (it's not only you and me)*:・✧*:
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@ryuqzn on X
"what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," the white-haired man says, gaze flickering down your body. he looks back up, making eye contact.
"but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, blue eyes piercing.
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after you get stood up, you're ready to cut your losses and head home. when a couple approaches you at the bar with a proposition, you just might end up changing your mind.
MDNI: i'm not joking, this is utter filth and minors should steer clear of it like they're teenage boys and this is a decent haircut.
pairing: geto/gojo/you
a/n: this is for someone special. you know who you are.
important: afab reader, she/her pronouns
word count: 16k (i know, i fucking know)
because i'm clinically insane, i've created a playlist to enchance your listening ~pleasure. here's the spotify version, and here's the youtube version. this is purely for the girls, gays and theys. i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it. (͡ ͡° ͜ つ ͡͡°)
the clock's just struck nine, and you sigh, glancing down at your phone for the umpteenth time that evening. you suppose it's your fault for having such shit taste in men, anyways, for agreeing to meet a loser that didn't even bother to show.
swirling the straw around your drink, you kick your legs out from your seat on the barstool and ponder whether or not to ask the bartender for another. this is already your third drink; you're no lightweight but even you aren't impervious to the effects of three whiskey neats.
sighing again, you decide to cut your losses and call it a night. fuck men, you think distastefully, reaching into your bag for your wallet. literally and figuratively. you got all dressed up for some asshole that couldn't even bother to take you to bed tonight.
you're rooting around in your purse for your wallet when there’s a sudden tap on your shoulder. you glance up, and are met with the faces of possibly the two most beautiful men you've ever seen before in your life. they tower over you, and though you're sitting, you know that even if you stood up they'd easily have several inches on you. the dark-haired man is sporting a half-up half-down hairstyle, the contours of his chest and broad shoulders barely hidden by a fitted dress shirt and leather jacket.
you glance at the other man, who's light-haired and blue-eyed. his waist is so impossibly small in his dress shirt that you almost reach out to wrap your hands around it, just to see if they could fit. they're looking at you like they're seeing through you, and you blink, heady from both the alcohol and weight of their gaze.
"sorry to interrupt, but are you heading out?" the dark-haired man asks politely, leaning forward slightly. you nod slowly, unsure of what he's going to say next.
he chuckles, ducking his head. "ah, that's too bad. my partner and i were wondering if you'd like to come out with us tonight."
"come out?" you say, raising an eyebrow. the white-haired man rolls his eyes, pushing at the dark-haired man's arm.
"what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," he says, making direct eye contact with you.
"but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, gaze unwavering. your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you glance between them, watching as the dark-haired man —suguru?— pushes back, swatting the white-haired man on the shoulder.
"you'll have to forgive satoru, he's a bit upfront. but yes, we would love to get to know you better, if you're interested," he says purposefully, dark eyes meeting yours.
"no pressure, of course. we'd be just as happy to call you a taxi to make sure you get home safe and leave it at that," he adds, nodding at the door. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you glance between them, at the cocksure expression on the white-haired man's face and the carefully open one on his partner's.
"can i know your names?" you manage, and the dark-haired man smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners.
"you can call me geto. this is gojo," he says, gesturing to the white-haired man, who boisterously sticks out his tongue and flashes a peace sign.
you tell them your name in return and geto smiles again, glancing at gojo.
"that's a beautiful name. we'd be happy to do whatever you'd like to do tonight— it's totally up to you. we'll be happy with any choice you make, even if that means our acquaintanceship ends here," geto says kindly but meaningfully, looking into your eyes so you know he's serious. gojo nods beside him, and then smirks.
"wherever you're headed won't be nearly as exciting as us, though," he intones liltingly, brow raised in challenge. geto smacks him upside the head and he winces, pouting at the abuse.
"satoru is just joking," geto says, glancing sharply at gojo. "we are completely okay with whatever you want to do. we just want to make our interest in you very, very clear."
you haven't moved for the entirety of this interaction. you glance between them again, at these two heaven-sent men on a night you were basically begging to be dicked down only to be disappointed by the universe (read: a random loser whose name you can't even remember). swallowing hard, you think that you made your choice as soon as the words left geto's lips.
"i'll come with you," is what finally comes out of your mouth, throat dry. geto's lips quirk upwards and gojo grins, extending a hand to help you down from the barstool.
"just let me pay for these drinks first," you say, going for your purse. geto shakes his head and steps forward, catching your wrist in one hand and guiding it away from your bag.
"i don't think so," he says simply, releasing your wrist and reaching into his back pocket. he throws way too many bills onto the counter and you're trying not to gape as gojo snickers, urging you to take his hand. his palm is warm to the touch as he helps you down from the barstool, geto bringing up the rear with a featherlight touch to the small of your back.
you were right. even with heels, they tower over you. flanked on either side, they walk you to the door, geto pushing it open and gesturing for you to go through. as you pass him, you catch a whiff of versace's eau fraiche, the distinct notes of rosewood filtering through your nostrils. gojo follows behind you, tapping on his phone.
it's cold, and you didn't bring a jacket. you're trying to appear like you're not shivering but geto notices anyways, shrugging off his own leather jacket to drape around your shoulders. gojo steps away, raising his phone to his ear.
"where are we going?" you ask, geto's cologne enveloping you along with his residual body heat. geto glances at gojo, who's speaking quietly to someone on the phone.
"somewhere private," he says, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. he looks at you, something darkening in his gaze. "somewhere no one will disturb us."
gojo hangs up the phone, stepping off the curb into the street. seconds later, a sleek black SUV pulls up, windows tinted. gojo goes around the other side and geto opens the door for you, holding out a hand to help you inside. it's easily the most expensive car you've ever been in, the seats plush and the interior unbelievably spacious. there are four seats facing each other, the front of the car partitioned so the driver isn't visible. gojo takes the seat opposite you, kicking up his feet and folding his hands behind his head.
geto sits down beside you, reaching into a small compartment that evaded your notice to produce a chilled bottle of water.
"so you can sober up," he explains, unscrewing the cap. "we don't want you intoxicated for what's coming next."
"what's coming next?" you parrot, taking the water. gojo snickers again, pulling a lollipop out from god knows where and popping it between his teeth. he sucks, cheeks hollowing around the candy, eyes never leaving yours.
"we're down to do whatever you want to do," geto says, turning to face you. his features are open, honest. "we just need to know what's on the table."
"everything," you reply too quickly, answer coming out instantly. geto chuckles good-naturedly, gesturing to the water.
"then you'll have to get started on that."
you've never chugged water so hastily in your life. the drive is short, ten minutes at best, and the three of you sit in comfortable silence, tempered by the sounds of smooth rnb filtering through the car's speakers. the car pulls up beside a skyscraper, endlessly tall against the city skies. gojo takes the empty bottle from your hand and carelessly tosses it aside, stepping outside and taking your hand in his to help you out of the car. geto goes around the other way, nodding at the driver as the car rolls away from the curb.
the building is locked, and you watch as gojo pulls out a black card, flashing it in front of a sensor. the doors part to reveal an immaculate marble lobby, scaffolded by floor-to-ceiling windows that are at least three stories high. building staff are positioned discreetly behind tall counters, none of whom pay gojo and geto any mind as the three of you make their way through to the elevators. your heels are clacking on the polished floor, geto's jacket snug around your shoulders.
there are eight elevators, but only one with a sensor. gojo flashes his card again, the elevator doors sliding open. geto holds the door for you as you step inside, taking gojo's proffered arm. he presses the only button on the wall —labelled PH— as geto follows you inside, the doors closing behind him. you're still holding onto gojo's arm as the elevator rises, and rises, and rises. it moves silently, the only sound the clack of the lollipop against gojo's teeth. it's been at least two full minutes and you're starting to wonder if you're genuinely in the stratosphere when there's a quiet ping and the elevator slows to a stop.
geto steps out, motioning at you to go ahead. gojo leads you down the hall to what appears to be the only suite on the entire floor. expecting the black card again, you're surprised when he presses his palm to a large, flat pad, which scans his hand and flashes green. the door clicks open and gojo heads inside, geto once again bringing up the rear.
you're confronted by the most stunning residence you've ever seen. the architecture is open-concept, with two stories connected by a spiral staircase. the same floor-to-ceiling windows from the lobby showcase the glittering city skyline, lights twinkling just below the clouds. everywhere you look, there's sleek leather and white marble, outfitted with tasteful minimal decor and modern art.
"where am i?" is all you're able to say, struggling to pick your jaw up from the floor. gojo laughs, sliding his jacket off and tossing it onto a chaise in the living room.
"don't worry about it," he winks, pulling the lollipop from between his lips and ignoring geto's subsequent eyerolling. "life is better when you get it to live it in 3D."
"he's a nepo baby," geto interjects, going around the kitchen island and opening two massive fridge doors. "and he's insufferable, so being rich makes him easier to deal with."
gojo huffs indignantly, tossing the lollipop in something discreetly disguised as a garbage.
geto rummages around in the fridge, taking out the most expensive-looking sandwich you've ever seen. "hungry?"
you shake your head, and geto looks at you, imploring. "i know you had the water, but you're going to need....energy, for what we have planned."
choice made. placing your purse down on the island, you make your way over to where he's standing, taking the baguette. hopping onto a stool, you take a bite, eyebrows shooting up your forehead at the rich flavours. brie, prosciutto, fig jam.....the list continues.
geto glances at gojo, who's now only wearing his slacks, dress shirt and tie. "satoru, you can start getting the room ready. i'll bring her when she's done."
you’re mildly surprised when gojo makes an affirmative noise and leaves without snark, setting off to one of the many rooms in the suite. after he disappears from sight, geto turns back to you.
"this is the part where i ask how you like it," he says, leaning his elbows onto the kitchen island. you swallow, fig jam tangy on your tongue.
"like i said," you meet his gaze, holding steady. "i like all of it."
geto smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. "both ends?"
"every single one," you say purposefully, never breaking eye contact.
he chuckles, nodding to himself. "we're clean, by the way."
"as am i," you confirm, popping the last bite of sandwich into your mouth. "on birth control, too," you add, after chewing.
"good to know," geto remarks, pushing himself off his elbows. he helps you down from the stool, taking his jacket from your shoulders and setting it down on the counter. fingertips dancing along the small of your back, he guides you down the same direction gojo went earlier, stopping in front of a large door.
"last chance to change your mind," he says, voice low. he's looking at you openly, honestly. "there won't be any hard feelings either way."
you've never been so sure of anything in your life. "i want this," you breathe, suffocated by the truth of that statement. "i want both of you."
geto exhales, slow smile gracing his features. wordlessly, he opens the door, gesturing for you to go ahead. the room is dimly lit by cool-toned floorlights, but you can make out the shape of a bed in the centre, warmed by a fireplace at its opposite. the same floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the city skyline, creating a glittering effect along the room’s walls. you squint at the far-off section of the room with tiled floor, following the tile into a bathroom that houses a massive, glass doored rainfall shower, alongside an enormous claw-foot tub.
gojo is standing in front of the bed, lanky stature backlit by the cityscape outside. he's still wearing his shirt, slacks and tie, sans his shoes. the door clicks shut behind you, and you sense more than see geto take a step towards you, breath ghosting along the nape of your neck.
deafening silence engulfs the room as every single one of your hairs stand on end, the energy in the space charged. gojo hasn't moved and neither has geto, both standing stock still in the silence like they're waiting for you to make the first move.
you let out a shuddering exhale and that's all geto needs, his hand wrapping around your jaw as his mouth attaches itself to your neck. he sucks harshly, hungrily, as his other hand grips your waist from behind, pressing the entire length of his body against yours. gojo is in front of you in an instant and you don't waste a second, yanking him forward by the tie to crash your lips together.
the artificial flavour of the lollipop is sweet on his tongue as he kisses you with intention, hand slipping down to hike your leg around his waist. geto's tongue is working against your neck at the same time, the sensation of two hot mouths overwhelming. gojo sucks your lower lip into his mouth as geto bites the juncture of your neck, eliciting a whine into gojo's teeth.
heat is pooling between your legs and you can feel that they're both hard already, gojo pressed into your front and geto against your back. geto suddenly releases your jaw, taking a step back as gojo lifts you up, settling your other leg around his waist. he's still making out with you as your arms wrap around his shoulders and he walks you both to the bed, carrying you like it's effortless. he sets you down onto the bed, breaking away once you're laid flat on its smooth surface.
you make to grab his tie again and he snatches your wrist in one hand, smirking.
"eager, are we?"
"a bitch, are you?" you snipe, enjoying the way his eyes flash with amusement. he pins your wrist above your head, dipping his head down so that your noses are brushing.
"if you want something, you'll have to ask it for it," he says lowly, gaze flickering down to your mouth. "nicely."
"make me," you retort breathlessly, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. he kisses you back just as hard, broad shoulders caging you in as your hand twists uselessly in his grip.
he breaks away, releasing your wrist. geto reappears, shirtless and wearing only his black jeans. you barely have time to appreciate the muscled planes of his chest and the toned flesh of his abs as he grabs the back of gojo's head, messily bringing their mouths together.
gojo moans against his lips, palms coming up to press at his chest. without breaking apart, geto rips his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as fabric tears. somehow, the tie remains.
gojo shoves him away, stepping backwards to frown at what used to be his shirt. "that was expensive, you know."
"you can buy a dozen more," geto says mildly, turning back to you. you're transfixed, staring at gojo's bare chest that is just as defined as geto's, at the dip of his collarbones and the defined ridges of his abdomen.
gojo makes a face at his ruined shirt and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with geto.
"you're wearing far too many clothes," says geto, a shadow passing over his features. you swallow, shrinking into the bed as something that's not quite fear passes over you— more like an impending sense that something is coming.
geto climbs onto the bed, getting all up into your space immediately. claiming your mouth with his own, he kisses you like he fucking owns you, subsuming every thought in your mind to the point that you don't even notice him unzipping your dress.
he removes your clothes with a care that he didn't use in taking off gojo's, gently tossing your dress aside when you're down to your bra and panties. you're staring up at him as he leans down into you, warm hand resting on your hip.
gojo reappears with a remote in his hand, and you hear a click followed by the same smooth rnb from the car. there must be speakers threaded into the walls because the sound feels like it's coming from everywhere, weaving together the neurons in your brain that have been fried by sensation.
"is this okay?" geto's voice is soft but his eyes are piercing as he lifts you up towards him, palms supporting your back. you nod haltingly, heat flooding your veins as he inclines his head to kiss you again. without stopping, he deftly unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it against the wall without looking. all of a sudden, he pulls away, standing up and moving to the foot of the bed.
gojo swaps places with him, coming up to your torso. you raise an eyebrow in question and geto smiles knowingly, climbing onto the bed and settling in front of your legs.
"satoru and i have different areas of speciality, you could say." gojo's smirk is back on his face as he takes in the sight of your naked chest, watching the flush that you're fighting spread down your clavicle.
"don't be shy, now," he teases, ignoring your death glare. you're about to retort but the air suddenly leaves your lungs in a whoosh as gojo bends forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. his soft hands cup your breasts, massaging firmly as his tongue flickers against the hardening bud.
you let out a shaky exhale, toes curling as one of your hands comes up to rest in his hair. the sensation is so intense that you almost don't notice geto sliding your panties down your legs until you feel the cool air against your damp lips.
gojo continues his ministrations, sucking your nipple into his mouth and tonguing it hard, nipping when you let out a low groan. geto spreads your legs and settles between them, kneeling on the bed. dark head bent, he drops lingering kisses up your legs, all the way from your calves up to your inner thighs. his lips are warm on your skin and you're absolutely throbbing, aching for it as he gets closer to your burning core.
gojo has switched to your other breast and geto is pressing butterfly kisses to the soft flesh of the inside of your thighs, sucking tender hickeys into the thin skin. the sensations are too much and not enough all at once, overwhelming your senses but not quite satisfying the ache inside you for more.
geto's mouth is everywhere except where you want it most— he's at the crease of your thigh, at the seam of your hip, the bump of your pubic bone. his breath ghosts over your slick lips, a sly smile lifting the corner of his mouth when you buck up, chasing. as gently as a butterfly beats its wings, he circles your clit with the pad of a fingertip, not quite touching it in the way he knows you want him to. you can’t hold back the whine that escapes your mouth, and geto’s lips quirk, his expression amused. his hands are warm on your hips and it feels like coming home when his lips finally meet yours, lapping up the slickness in your folds like a man parched.
gojo has released your nipples and he's positioned himself behind you to prop your upper body up, nibbling on your earlobes with his palms still cupping your breasts. geto's dark head is buried between your legs and he's eating you out like he was fucking born for it, alternating between dipping his tongue inside of you and sealing his lips around your clit. sucking down rasping breaths, you see stars when his mouth forms a vacuum around your clit and he sucks hard , your thighs clamping around his head as your hand fists in his hair.
geto hasn't stopped, arms beneath your thighs to hold your hips down as he pushes his tongue deeper inside your sopping centre. a choked-off moan falls from your lips and gojo snickers into the skin of your neck, his naked chest and the fabric of the tie pressed into your spine.
"you're enjoying dessert, aren't you, suguru?" gojo's voice is lilting and you would retort but you can't, too busy gasping for air as geto just hums in agreement, relentlessly tonguing your clit.
gojo begins leaving lovebites all around your shoulders and you can feel his fingers twisting and pinching your nipples, the sensation heightened by geto feasting between your legs. you're so wet that his chin is glistening with it, a few strands of his dark hair slipping out and falling into his face as he eats you out with vigour, the tendons in his jaw tensing from effort.
“oh god, don’t stop,” you cry out, fists clenched in the sheets. gojo chuckles behind you, tweaking a nipple and laughing when you spasm. 
“did you hear that, suguru? i think you’re gonna have to step it up.” 
without taking his mouth off your clit, his long fingers slide so smoothly inside of you that they may as well have been there all along. pumping shallowly, he continues to suck on your clit, pulsing his lips and flicking his tongue around the most sensitive part of you.
you keen, high and loud, and geto doesn't need words to understand, pressing a final kiss to your clit and leaning back to thrust his hand properly. he crooks his fingers, searching, and you cry out when he hits your spot, toes curling so hard it hurts. 
"right there, huh?" geto murmurs knowingly, fingering you ruthlessly. you ride the high, sparks bursting behind your eyelids. the solid warmth from behind you suddenly disappears as gojo lowers you onto the bed, and you crack an eye open just in time to see him grin devilishly and press his fingers down onto your mound, right above where geto's hand is inside of you.
the combination of inner and outer pressure is too much and you mewl, legs jerking as your walls contract and a sensation you've never felt before washes over you, almost like your body is releasing a gush of liquid.
"we got her to squirt," gojo declares smugly, continuing to press down as geto works you through your orgasm. you're arching off the bed, sheets clenched in your hands as wave after wave of pleasure crashes down upon you, an infinite tsunami upon a helpless shore.
after what feels like forever, you slump back down, chest heaving. geto gently withdraws his hand from between your legs and licks his fingers while gojo lifts his hand to release the pressure from your pelvis. you lift your head up to see gojo standing at the foot of the bed, palming the front of his pants, face scrunched up in want. geto looks to be faring no better as he gets up to stand beside gojo, bulge straining against his jeans.
"i think it's time we got these off," geto says, unzipping his pants. gojo shucks off his slacks in one go, ripping off the tie that somehow remained around his neck throughout all of this. suddenly they're both down to their underwear, black boxers tented.
they glance at you and then back at each other before gojo drops to his knees on the floor, pulling geto's boxers down with him. you watch, spent, as gojo takes geto into his mouth, swallowing around him and fondling his sack. geto tips his head back and rakes a hand through gojo’s hair, peering down at his head bobbing on his length. you're enjoying the show as geto thrusts shallowly into his mouth, his abs flexing with the motion.
gojo’s adam’s apple is bobbing as his throat works, and he keeps going until geto's breathing grows laboured, only stopping when geto gestures with his chin toward you on the bed. gojo releases him with a lewd pop and barely has a second to collect himself before geto's pushing him onto his back, stripping off his underwear and taking him down into his throat in one go. you watch, amazed, at what appears to be geto's total lack of a gag reflex.
"throat goat," gojo remarks fondly, reaching down to thread his hand through geto's dark hair. geto slaps his thigh and gojo chuckles, breaking off to groan when geto urges him on, pushing his ass forward to get him to fuck his throat.
you're still recovering from your climax when geto releases gojo from his mouth, wiping at the saliva around his lips. gojo glances at you, grinning as he pushes himself up onto his palms.
"want a turn?" he asks impishly, gesturing at geto, who stands up. you raise yourself into a sitting position up by the elbows and regard the two men in front of you and their well-endowed assets. gojo is longer but slightly thinner, like a water bottle. geto is girthier and thicker, like a beercan. you'll happily take both.
"i think she's got another orgasm in her, don't you?" geto climbs onto the bed and tugs you onto your hands and knees, gojo going behind you. "why don't you see what you can do about that, satoru."
you're gazing hungrily at the girthy length of geto, veiny and uncut up close. he's still glistening with gojo's saliva as you lick the tip, geto's palm coming to rest on your head. you're taking him down inch by inch as you feel gojo settle behind you, shivering as he trails a finger through the wetness gathered at your lips.
one hand gripping your hip, he lines himself up and pushes inside your wet heat until he's flush against your ass, forcing all the air out of your lungs. in the same instant, you reach the base of geto's length, full at both ends. you moan around him as gojo begins to thrust in earnest, the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating around the room as he fucks you relentlessly.
"shit," gojo says lowly, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "you're taking me like a champ."
geto's eyes are closed, his palm resting on your hair. you pull back, flattening your tongue beneath the head while your hand jacks off whatever your mouth can't reach. gojo changes angles and you can suddenly feel him in your chest, his tip so deeply inside of you that it's kissing your cervix.
you pick up the pace, tonguing the slit, and geto is openly groaning, gripping your hair hard enough that it hurts. you don't mind it— you encourage it, in fact, while gojo's fucking you hard enough that your walls will surely remember his shape. every time he brings you back onto his length, heady pleasure shoots through your veins, your toes tingling hotly. you can already feel another orgasm coming as gojo reaches a hand between your legs, searching for your clit. he twists his fingers evilly, not letting up when you let out a muffled moan around geto's girth.
"i think she likes it," gojo says, smirk audible in his voice. he rubs in tight, deliberate circles, his hand quickening as you stop sucking and just breathe, eyes rolling back in your head when he snaps his hips and simultaneously hits your spot.
you hear him laugh breathlessly, thrusts hindered somewhat as your walls spasm around him, his pace slowing as you come for the second time. he fucks you through it, pulling out when it becomes too much. gojo smacks your ass, laughing at the surprised yelp that exits your mouth.
"couldn't resist, princess," he winks at you, coming around to the front of the bed. again, they swap positions and geto moves to the back, warm hands settling around your waist. he brings you backwards onto him, your shoulder blades against his chest. he's warm, so warm, and you melt into his arms. he presses soft kisses into your neck, humming when you sigh contentedly and tip your head onto his shoulder.
"aren't you glad you had that sandwich?" he murmurs into your skin, hands roving all over your pliant body. the sound of a cap opening interrupts your reply, which was just going to be an mmhm-hmm anyways. you blink, watching gojo squeeze lube onto his fingers and stroke geto between your legs, whose eyelids flutter closed at the sensation.
after a few moments, gojo releases geto, who then lifts you up like you weigh nothing, settling you above him on your knees, one braced on either side of his hips. your back is still to his chest, and you turn your head to meet his gaze, cocking your head in question.
"lube?" you say, watching geto chuckle. he smooths a hand down your side, soothing.
"i know you don't have any problems getting wet," he smiles, gaze flickering down your body between your legs. he looks up, eyes dark. "but we can't have you feeling raw just yet."
your heart jumps in your chest when a hand grabs your chin, turning your head to face the front. you're met with the full mast of gojo, who's up on his knees in front of you, his shins pressing into the bed. it happens all at once and geto is lowering you down as you swallow around gojo, the taste of precome heady on your tongue. you sink down onto geto for what feels like forever, his tip reaching towards your ribs.  
if gojo fucked you relentlessly, geto fucks you like god himself commanded him, a divine task ordained straight from the heavens above. he bounces you up and down, pushing his hips up to meet yours on every thrust. your palms are braced on gojo's thighs and you can barely breathe around him, glancing up to see his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he wantonly pumps his hips into your mouth, sliding his length along your tongue.
geto's hands are vicelike around your waist, his hot, hard length stretching your walls every time he brings you down onto his hips. they're working in tandem, each fucking a pair of your lips, and it’s so fucking good that you could cry. you’re absolutely stuffed at both ends, hot pleasure emanating from your core to spread throughout your body every time geto pushes back into you. another orgasm is cresting on the horizon as he picks up the pace, jackrabbiting his hips as he lifts you up impossibly higher, the bed creaking from the combined force of their movements.
"god, you're tight," geto grunts, punctuated by the sound of his balls slapping your ass. "so tight, just for me."
you're so close, you're so fucking close, and you've stopped sucking entirely as geto fucks you harder, your breasts bouncing in time with the motion. gojo suddenly pulls out from your mouth and you don't have time to react before he drops into a kneeling position and grasps your jaw in his hand, bringing your lips to meet his own. gojo slides his tongue inside your mouth, his hand moving up from your jaw to hold your head as his tongue caresses yours.
you moan into his mouth, arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you pull him flush to your chest while geto continues to fuck you, bliss radiating outward from where you’re joined. your nipples are pebbled against the smooth planes of gojo's clavicle and he deepens the kiss, fingers weaving into your hair as his other hand slips down to dance along your overly sensitive clit.
geto tilts his hips and floods every sense in your body with white-hot ecstasy as he rails your spot, the curve of gojo’s smirk sharp against your mouth while his fingertips stroke your clit. you drench the bed for the second time that night as you come, back arching in geto's grip as gojo's fingertips tease the lips stretched around geto's girth, still pistoning in and out of you.
"nice, we got a second squirt," gojo crows, eyes crinkling in mirth as he draws back. he raises his hand for a high-five and you don't have to look to know geto is rolling his eyes as he slaps gojo's hand. geto slowly brings you down to lean onto him, his chest rising and falling from exertion. he's still buried inside of you and you can barely think through the haze in your mind, sagging limply into his arms. geto supports your weight, whispering quietly into your hair as you come down.
"that's it, just like that." his voice is gentle, unlike the way he was moving inside of you moments ago. he twines his arms around your waist as you both catch your breath, the broad muscle of his chest firm against your back. your eyes are closed and your entire body is relaxed, held up by geto's sturdy frame.
"you guys didn't come," you manage to say, voice thick. you feel geto's chest rumble as he laughs, low and deep in your ear.
"that's very kind of you to be concerned," he says, soft smile audible in his voice. "but it's all good. we like to draw things out."
you feel the bed dip as gojo climbs back on, the click of a bottle cap echoing in the quiet of the room.
"we're going to give you a bit of a break," gojo tells you, voice teasing. "you can relax and enjoy the show."
you blink blearily, limbs liquified as geto lifts you off and carefully sets you to his side, wrapping an arm around you as you curl up beside him. you watch while gojo lubes him up again, twisting his wrist knowingly when he meets the head. gojo glances up and they share a private moment, conversing without words. you're content to watch as an intimate smile graces geto's features and gojo leans forward to peck him on the lips, still stroking all the while.
geto withdraws his arm from around you, sitting up to settle gojo on top of his thighs. he spreads gojo's legs over his own, their faces close enough to share the same breath. the lube reappears and gojo leans his weight onto his palm, watching as geto squeezes some over his fingers. they're in an incredibly intimate position, almost lotus-like, legs folded together and gojo's other hand braced on geto's shoulder.
geto slides the first finger inside of gojo with so much confidence that it's obvious they've done this a thousand times before. gojo's spine arches and he exhales hard, eyelids fluttering shut as geto starts stretching him out. geto's dark eyes are trained on his disappearing finger, and you can see gojo's hand tensing around his shoulders. gojo's shaky breaths echo around the room when geto adds another finger, thrusting with more urgency. there's a squelching sound every time his hand meets gojo's ass, and you watch in awe as gojo takes it like he was fucking born for nothing else.
they're both hard as hell, and you're starting to wonder if it's getting painful. you don't have time to contemplate this thought for long before geto's up to three fingers and he changes the angle of his hand, gojo's body jerking violently as geto deliberately hits his spot. geto cranes his neck to suckle at gojo’s nipple, smirking into his chest when he mewls. he squeezes gojo's ass with his free hand and continues pressing his spot as gojo spasms, his lips parted in a soundless moan.
geto carefully withdraws his hand, kissing gojo softly on the lips before taking his wrists and pulling him up onto his knees. geto climbs off the bed, going to stand behind gojo. his eyes flicker over to you and you meet his gaze, cloudy with want. geto doesn't look away as he pushes himself inside of gojo, his arms wrapping around gojo's torso to tug him up against his chest. he starts thrusting carefully, letting gojo adjust to the feeling of his full length inside of him.
you can feel yourself getting wet again as geto finally closes his eyes, pressing his mouth to gojo's neck as he pulls out slowly, bringing his hips forward again. you're brimming with hunger as you watch their bodies move together, geto's one hand wrapped around gojo's throat and the other pressed flat to his chest, holding him upright. gojo is making low noises, quiet ungh-ungh-unghs as geto fills him up, again and again.
"who do you belong to?" geto grunts into his neck, hand tightening around his throat, gojo’s adam’s apple protruding between his fingers.
gojo breathes out a shuddering exhale, his knees and shins pressed into the mattress. his entire weight is leaned onto geto, who's somehow supporting him and fucking him simultaneously.
gojo bites his lip, furrowing his brow. you can see the muscles of geto's ass flexing as he plunges into gojo, not letting up for even a second.
"well," gojo rasps, sounding like he's going for contemplative but ending up wanton instead. "you'll just have to ask george clooney."
geto’s balls slap gojo's ass when he delivers a particularly punishing thrust, pushing all the air out of gojo in a loud huff.
"are you sure about that?" geto sounds remarkably composed for a man who's inside another man's ass.
gojo is only able to make a noise of affirmation in response, a strained uh-huh through his teeth. his giggle is breathless when geto releases his throat to slap his cheek, the thwack loud in the quiet.
"why don't you try again," geto's voice is rough and he changes angles, finding exactly what he's searching for when gojo's body jackknifes into his chest.
"fine, you got me,” gojo moans, throwing his head back onto geto's shoulder. "tell george that i'm —ah!— cheating on him with matt damon.”
this was clearly not the answer geto was looking for. he quickens his pace, slamming his hips hard enough into gojo’s ass to bruise. reaching a hand around to wrap around gojo’s length, his fist is a blur as he strokes in time with his thrusts.
“who do you belong to?” geto says again, strained but still pointed, leaving no room for argument. gojo’s body is strung taut, every muscle tensed with his mouth open and face pinched tight as the bed shakes.
you can only stare as the veins pop out of gojo's neck, abs contracting with his back arched against geto's chest. "i h— i heard idris elba is free— agh!"
geto releases him and pulls out in the same second, taking a full step backwards. gojo lets out a sound that sounds like a sob, body folding in half at the sudden, overwhelming emptiness.
geto continues to stand there, unmoving and unflinching. he's hard as a rock but he looks like he could wait forever as gojo curls in on himself, distraught by the lack of sensation.
gojo whimpers brokenly and brings a hand to his mouth to stifle the sound, his body visibly aching with need. "you," he sobs, on the verge of tears when it finally comes out. "only you. always you."
geto nods, just once, and the relief on gojo's face is palpable when geto yanks him upright and pushes back inside of him in one snap of his hips. geto's rhythm is harsh as he takes gojo again in his other hand, squeezing from root to tip. geto swipes his thumb over the head and gojo makes a choked-off noise, turning his head over his shoulder to tangle their tongues together.
"brat," geto says into his mouth, to which gojo can only whine in agreement.
they're both breathing heavily and it's the hottest thing you've ever fucking seen, the pleasure visible on both of their faces. gojo is biting his lip, eyes scrunched shut, and sweat is beading at geto's temple as he moves, his brows creased. gojo's mouth falls open and he keens, high and loud, body rocking into geto's as they have sex in front of you.
you just met him a few hours ago but you can tell gojo is close, his breaths growing ragged and moans increasing in pitch as he nears climax. right before the event horizon, geto lets go of gojo, stilling his movements but remaining inside of him. gojo lets out an aggravated groan and cracks an eye open, turning his head to look at you.
"this is where you come in, princess," he manages, speech almost slurred. "come here."
he doesn't have to tell you twice. scampering over, you comply when gojo motions for you to turn around. his grip is tight on your ass when he brings your hips back, the hard length of him pressing into the wetness pooled between your legs. he slips inside of your tight heat effortlessly, filling you to the hilt as geto starts fucking him again. gojo is stretching you out and you love the feeling of being so damn full, head hanging low and breasts swaying with the motion as geto fucks gojo and gojo fucks you.
the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you're seeing stars as gojo makes high-pitched sounds, geto's panting filling up the spaces in between his whimpers. it's quite possibly the most erotic thing you've ever experienced, having one man inside of you while another man is inside of him. you can't help but wonder how it feels for gojo, filling up one person with someone else filling him up simultaneously.
they're moving in time with each other, and you hear gojo's breathing become frantic as he gasps. the force of geto's thrusts are pushing him forwards into you, nudging his head repeatedly into your cervix. gojo's palms are hot on your hips, and you feel more than see his body tense up as he approaches orgasm. a loud gasp is pushed out of his chest when geto reaches around to pinch his nipples. 
gojo chokes on air, rutting forward into you and pushing himself back onto geto in the same moment. he sounds wrecked with sensation as geto doesn't stop for a second, pounding into him while you clench and milk him for all he's worth.
"fuck, suguru, i'm gonna— fuck, i'm coming," gojo cries, spilling deep inside of you. geto fucks him through it, pushing gojo's load deeper inside of you as he keeps coming. gojo has stopped moving and just rides out his climax, grip loosening around your hips. geto's forcing him forwards into you over and over again, the motion bracketed by gojo's unfettered groans and his own harsh panting. after a long minute, you feel geto pull out of gojo and gojo pull out of you, the lewd noises juxtaposed against the soft music still playing.
gojo flops down onto the bed beside you, chest heaving. geto disappears into the bathroom only to reappear moments later with a damp towel, which gojo catches in one hand. he goes again into the bathroom and you hear the sound of the shower starting up.
"what's he doing?" you ask, watching gojo's chest rise and fall. he holds up a finger, slowing his breathing before he answers you.
"cleaning himself up," he says between lungfuls of air. he turns his head to look at you and winks. "he needs to wash up for what we have planned next with you."
you don't have time to ponder exactly what that could entail before gojo suddenly sits up and manhandles you onto your back, his hands pushing your collarbones. you can feel his release leaking out of you, slippery in between your thighs.
"remember what i said about asking nicely?" his blue eyes are piercing as they bore into yours. gojo is close enough that you can count his eyelashes, and you catch the lingering scent of ysl’s black opium cologne. you swallow, toes tingling at the sheer proximity.
he leans into you and you're dumbstruck by the broadness of him as he cages you in, dipping his head down to brush his nose against yours. barely breathing, you have to bite back a whimper as gojo’s mouth moves to your throat.
"manners are important, you know." sucking hungrily, he spreads your legs with a knee, reaching down to clean up the mess he made inside of you.
"shocked that you would know, seeing as you don't have any," you choke out, nails scrabbling at his shoulder blades while he wipes you clean, the light touch of gojo's hand stark in contrast to the teeth at your throat. you feel him grin into your skin.
"i'm demonstrating them right now, aren’t i?" you can't tell if you're wet from him coming inside of you or from the way he's touching you, once again too much and not enough all at once.
"don't gentlemen always clean up the messes they make?" gojo asks rhetorically, lips moving on your skin. "i'm nothing if not a gentleman."
"and i'm the goddamn president," your voice wobbles but it comes out sufficiently derisory for you in this moment. "since we're telling jokes now."
gojo bites, sucking hard enough to leave a purpled bruise. you can't stop your hand from twisting in his hair, your body arching up into him.
"i know what you want," gojo’s voice is low as he tilts your jaw up for better access, his mouth hot on your neck. he throws the soiled towel aside without looking. "and i'm not going to give it to you until you ask. nicely. "
he moves down your body, leaving bruising kisses along your sternum, your ribs, your hipbones. his palms are cool when they press into your knees, pushing your legs apart so he can kneel between them. gojo looks up at you from beneath his lashes, daring you to retort.
"i know you can do it," he drawls, voice lilting in condescension. he grazes a finger through your slick folds, darting away when your eyelids flutter. "all you need to do is ask."
sheets clenched in your hands, you bite your lip. looking down, you appraise the cocky grin on gojo's face, his eyebrow raised in challenge. he's a bitch, for sure, but it takes one to know one.
"no," is all you say, watching his gaze darken. "i don't think i will."
gojo's mouth is above your clit in a flash, breath hot on your slick lips. your hips buck up involuntarily and he leans back, laughing. you kick at his chest with a foot, resisting the urge to pout.
"come on, it won't kill you," he says mockingly. "it might even do you good to learn some manners." 
his hands are firm on your hipbones and he dips his head back down, breathing along your lips. every fibre of your being is on fire and you want it so bad it hurts, throbbing hotly at your core but you will not give him the goddamn satisfaction.
he presses open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs, snickering at the sharp inhale through your nose when he scrapes the thin skin with his teeth. an accidental moan slips from your mouth when he sucks a hickey into your hip, the hand that flies up to stifle it coming too late.
heart racing, a devious smile suddenly quirks your lips. "i don't need to ask," you say, tone just as mocking as gojo's. "to know geto is better at eating me out."
gojo stills against you, his mouth hot on your skin. he draws back slowly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. his grip tightens around your hips and you meet his gaze unwaveringly, watching as a shadow passes over his features.
he cocks his head, looking all the world like a predator about to snatch his prey.
"you know," he begins, and there's nothing joking or lighthearted in his tone this time. "suguru got to have his dessert, but i never got to have mine."
there's no time to ready yourself before gojo's mouth is on you, his tongue sliding inside to your centre without hesitation. your hips jerk up and he's holding you down as he licks into you, tongue caressing your walls. you cry out, one hand gripping the sheets and the other twisted in his hair. you're struck by the thought that he can probably taste himself but judging from the way he's eating you out, he clearly doesn't care.
gojo's head is moving beneath your hand as he continues ravaging you, pulling back only for a second to release one of your hips. when his hand enters you, his fingers somehow feel even deeper than his entire length did ten minutes ago. gojo is unrelenting, pushing his index and middle fingers in and out so quickly you're choking on air. every nerve in your body has been set alight, silvery ecstasy coursing through your veins like drugs as he doesn’t stop. 
he's suctioned his lips around your clit, not coming up for air as his hand pumps inside of you. gojo's mouth is warm and wet as he licks and he doesn't let up even when you spasm, his forearm firm across your pelvis to hold you down while his fingers hit your spot, again and again.
you can't even moan because you can't breathe. your eyes are scrunched shut and your back is arched off the bed. you don't have to look to feel his nose pressed into the top of your mound as gojo eats you out like he's fallen ill and your folds are hiding the antidote.
you're just about to come and he stops all at once, removing his hand with a squelch and releasing your clit from between his lips. you blink blearily, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you peer down at him. gojo's got a challenging look on his face, staring up at you resolutely.
"say please," he says, and you're about to shake your head when he leans closer to you, lips gleaming and chin slick. he trails a finger through your folds, dripping from how close you are and his own saliva. gojo's fingertip circles your clit without touching it, his touch featherlight.
"if you want to come," his voice is low, without mirth. "say it."
every cell in your body has been besieged by want and it seems like he can tell, the little shit. the corner of his mouth curls upwards when he pulls back and your body involuntarily lurches up, like it's following him. you're stubborn and you hate losing but you also really, really fucking need to finish under his tongue.
you bite your lip, the haze in your mind leaving you thoughtless save for one aching need. gojo's blue eyes flash and you're suddenly reminded of the snake, right before it entices eve into eating the apple.
his mouth is set in a firm line, expression resolute. there’s fire simmering beneath your skin and you’re absolutely burning with it, tossing your pride aside as the word finally leaves your mouth. 
"please," you choke out, and his mouth splits into a smug grin, teeth shining as brightly as his hair. you only have a moment to feel intense annoyance before gojo's lips are back on yours and the feeling is instantly replaced with mind-numbing pleasure, every endorphin in your brain releasing all at once.
he's thrown your legs over his shoulders, jaw working furiously while his tongue licks into you. gojo's long fingers slip back inside of you seamlessly, aided by how wet you are and his saliva. his other hand leaves your hip and he spreads your folds with his fingers, pushing your clit out and creating the perfect conditions for him to latch his lips around it and suck.
"oh, god," you wail, both hands fisting in his air and toes curling over gojo’s shoulders. you’re heaving shallow breaths but he doesn't stop, his fingers plunging in and out of you as he sucks hard, cheeks hollowing and teeth nipping gently at the bud. you’re absolutely drowning in it, choking on air and limbs jerking when you cry out and come. your thighs squeeze his head and he probably can't breathe but you don't care and neither does he as gojo basically lets you fuck his face, taking all of you and then some.
it just keeps going, and going, and going. gojo doesn't come up for air, suckling at your clit even as you sag back onto the bed, spent. he slowly withdraws his head from between your legs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. geto reappears, his body damp, and you crack an eye open to appraise his lithe form.
"she said i'm better at eating her out," gojo winks conspiratorially, waggling his eyebrows at you and hopping off the bed to stand up.
you don't have the strength to rebut but you don’t have to because geto rolls his eyes, climbing onto the bed to help you sit up. "i'm fairly certain she didn't."
geto reaches into a bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of water. he unscrews the cap and raises it to your lips, his other hand supporting your back as he helps you drink.
"we're giving you another break," geto's voice is soft but his eyes are dark as you nod weakly, water trickling down your chin. geto’s touch is tender on your jaw as he thumbs at the droplets, taking the bottle from you when you're done and propping you up with a pillow. he leans in close, his loose hair falling into his face, to stroke your cheek, gaze never leaving yours.
"watch closely, okay?" he says, and you have the feeling that it isn't a question, despite being phrased as one. you're sitting on one side of the bed, which is massive enough that all three of you and probably a few more could lay comfortably side-by-side with enough room to spare. gojo turns on the fireplace, the embers crackling to life as he draws the curtains closed, casting the room in a warm glow.
gojo walks back to the bed with palpable intent guiding his footsteps, blue eyes fixed on geto. with eyes only for each other, you watch as gojo climbs onto the bed and on top of geto, whose palm has come to rest around gojo's waist, their gazes locked.
a soft sigh falls from geto's lips when gojo begins pressing tender kisses down his neck. touching him in an achingly affectionate way that seems almost uncharacteristic, gojo's hands are reverent as they hold geto’s body close. they're both achingly hard again but there's nothing rushed about the way gojo's lips are moving against his skin, every hitched breath and shuddering exhale deafeningly loud in the silence of the room.
gojo takes his time, making sure there’s not an inch of geto’s body left unmarked by his lips. he’s everywhere— at geto’s ribs, his navel, his thighs, his hipbone. the sound of geto sighing wafts into your ears like smoke, and gojo parts his legs slowly, palms on the inside of his knees. you watch gojo kneel between his legs like he’s praying, taking a long moment to stare up at geto, who meets his gaze unblinkingly. there’s a long moment where they just breathe together, having another silent conversation meant for the two of them alone. 
you have the inescapable sense that you’re being let in on something precious, confirmed by the careful way gojo dips his head down in between geto’s thighs. he brings geto’s legs over his shoulders and geto reaches down to stroke his hair, carding his fingers through the soft strands. from where you’re sitting beside them, gojo’s lowered head is obscured by geto’s thighs, but the way geto inhales sharply through his nose lets you ascertain the moment gojo’s tongue enters him. 
the way gojo licks into him is almost alien to the feral manner in which he was eating you out earlier, all tender kisses and measured swipes of his tongue. it’s like he’s a different person, his touch delicate on geto’s skin as he keeps his legs spread, head moving unhurriedly between his thighs. geto’s eyelids have fluttered closed, his dark hair pooled around his head as gojo continues lapping at him like gentle waves against a serene shore. 
the only noises in the room are geto’s slow breaths and the wet sounds of gojo’s mouth, geto’s hardness untouched between them. he hasn’t made any move to touch himself and neither has gojo, and you watch as his body ripples with bliss, toes flexing over gojo’s shoulders. 
after several long minutes, gojo lifts his head, dropping soft kisses up geto’s thigh as he lays his legs back down onto the bed. geto is breathing heavily, forearm slung over his eyes, as gojo leans over to open the bedside drawer, pulling out another bottle of water. he tips his head back, pouring water into his mouth and swishing it around before swallowing, capping the bottle and closing the drawer. he angles his body back over geto, touch featherlight across his clavicle. 
geto shivers when gojo ghosts a finger down his sternum, closing his eyes when gojo takes his lips in his own. he has one hand on gojo's shoulder, the other sliding up into his hair as their mouths move languidly together. gojo has tugged one of geto's legs around his waist, slow and deliberate, not at all similar to the way he did the same to you earlier. geto arches into him, and their bodies are so intertwined that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins, like they've merged into one.
they're so close, in fact, that it takes you a full minute to realize gojo has been inside of geto for quite some time, his hips moving fluidly as geto wraps his arms around his shoulders and crosses his ankles behind gojo's back. his thrusts are measured, unhurried, and geto's eyes close when gojo dips his head down to nuzzle at his neck.
judging from the way he takes all of gojo effortlessly, you think that geto must have prepped in the shower. from your vantage point, you can see the muscles of gojo's back shifting as he moves, geto exhaling loudly as gojo gently picks up the pace, thrusting slowly like they could do this for the next ten, hundred, or even thousand years. the only thing you can hear are their measured breaths, the bed silent as gojo carefully brings his hips forward again and again.
geto makes a low noise and gojo understands, leaning back to lift geto's ankles onto his shoulders. it's only after he fills up geto for the dozenth time that gojo dips down, his hips never faltering, to capture geto's lips in his own. their mouths move against one another as their bodies are joined, geto's palms pressed flat to gojo's chest and gojo's hands wrapped around geto's thighs.
you watch them make love and it's breathtakingly intimate, breath hitching in your throat when they break apart and geto tucks a strand of gojo’s hair behind his ear. a slow smile spreads over gojo's face, nothing at all like the feral grin that split his lips earlier. he presses a tender kiss to the inside of geto’s calf, tilting his hips up and and letting out a soft chuckle when geto inhales sharply and his eyes snap shut, toes curling and fingers flexing against gojo's chest.
he still hasn't reached between geto's legs and you're starting to think geto must have the stamina of a fucking horse after being sucked and fucked both ways. geto opens his eyes and he meets gojo's gaze, who once again doesn't need words to understand. he pulls out of geto as smoothly as he entered him, climbing off the bed and heading for the bathroom.
geto sighs deeply, still on his back. for a long minute it's just the two of you in the quiet, and you twitch, heat pooling between your legs. he's on top of you in the next moment, pushing away the pillow supporting your body to lay you flat on the bed. "you were watching, right?"
you nod, thinking that it must be evident from how wet you are. geto's hands are braced on either side of your head and he's pulled your legs over his hips, his hair tickling your neck as his head bows down. he's radiating warmth and you catch a whiff of the same versace cologne, musky as he licks an unhurried stripe up your neck.
the energy in the room is charged and you watch his biceps tense, your gaze dropping to the firm muscle of his chest as the firelight lends his body an otherworldly halo. tilting your chin up, geto doesn't look away when he slides into you, his hips meeting yours in one deliberate thrust. your world has been reduced to one point of contact and you're melting into oblivion as geto stays unmoving deep inside of your wet heat, anchored by your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
you're staring so deeply into his eyes that you could drown as he just stays there, completely still as your walls clench around him. your mouth is an inch from his own, breaths mingling in the quiet. the room is completely silent save for the distant hum of the shower and the crackle of the fireplace, tempered by your shallow breathing. geto looks at you through hooded eyelids, tingles shooting down to your toes as he visibly holds himself back, trembling with the effort. you’re acutely aware of your heartbeat, thundering in your ears. 
when geto finally draws back and brings himself into you again, it's so good you could cry. the sex is made even more intense by the way he continues to stare through you, dark eyes glittering. never breaking eye contact, he purposefully snaps his hips again, and again, and again, each measured thrust metered by the sighs that escape your lips. your hands slide down from his neck and you can feel the muscle and sinew of his back shifting while he moves, your every sense overtaken by him as he continues to roll his hips. every time his head brushes your cervix your body undulates with pleasure, reducing you to a puddle in his arms. 
geto lowers his head, breath hot against your neck, and you think about the fact that he’s the only one who hasn’t come yet. your bodies are pressed together and you can feel every inch of him as he moves inside of you, deliberate and restrained. you can tell he’s yearning for more but he doesn’t let himself have it, tensely grasping your jaw when you arch up into his chest. he doesn’t pick up the pace even when you rest your hands on his ass, the muscle flexing beneath your fingers as he just keeps going, each thrust calculated and purposeful when he slides in and out of you. chest to chest, you breathe with him, his body firm beneath your palms. he's staring endlessly into your eyes, his own so dark that they could hold the universe. 
you think you could come, just like this, and it's almost like geto can read your thoughts because he stops all at once, pulling out and leaving you devastatingly empty. you’re aching at the loss but distracted by gojo as he suddenly reappears, water dripping in rivulets down his chest. geto holds a hand out behind him, accepting the lube without looking.
"you said you were good with everything, right?" geto turns to glance at you, who can once again only nod in response. geto takes your hand to bring you into an upright position, gojo going to sit behind you and it's reminiscent of before, with his damp skin pressed to your shoulder blades and geto between your legs.
geto squeezes lube onto his fingers, rubbing his palms together to warm them up. he looks up at you through his lashes, dark and daring.
you nod, just once, and geto’s first finger enters your ass with so much confidence that it feels like this is his fucking profession. gojo's palms are again around your breasts, mouth hot on your nape. your breath hitches in your throat when geto adds another finger, scissoring them inside of your ass, his other hand tight on your thigh. groaning low and long, your palms come up to rest on top of gojo's hands as his tongue laps wetly at your skin. he suddenly bites at your shoulder and you don't have the energy to swat at him, making a harrumph sound when he chuckles into your neck.
"you're up to three fingers now, did you know that?" geto says quietly, and you glance down at his wrist as it moves between your legs. damn, he's right.
geto's other hand smooths down your thigh, palm warm on your skin. "you're doing so good."
you can feel geto moving his hand inside of you as gojo presses a lingering kiss to your nape, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest, his legs encasing both of yours. his warmth envelops you as you just breathe, geto's fingers stretching you out.
you feel gojo smile into your skin. "the little lady must be tired, huh?"
your eyes are closed but you make a hmph noise, still lucid enough to retort. "i'm not a little lady, you dickhead."
gojo laughs, a hot puff of air against your neck, his arms snug around your waist. "i was talking about your clit."
chuckling breathlessly, you tip your head onto gojo's shoulder as geto continues scissoring his fingers inside of you. "okay, you're not wrong with that one."
one of gojo's arms slips out from their embrace and he leans to the side, opening the bedside drawer. his other arm suddenly retracts from around you too and your eyes snap open as your hands are yanked behind you, the click of handcuffs thunderously loud when they lock around your wrists.
you swallow hard, tugging on the restraints behind your back. nope, they're tightly secured. your heart is racing as geto removes his hand from your ass, gifting you with a view of his muscled back as he stands up and walks into the bathroom.
"first time being cuffed?" gojo asks knowingly from behind you, tracing a finger down your arm. you shiver, nodding stutteringly to the empty space in front of you. gojo rotates you in his lap to face him, your thighs on top of his own. the scent of his cologne is distinct, the notes of vanilla intensified by your proximity. 
gojo lowers his head to brush his nose against yours, and you absolutely thrill at the danger in his eyes when he leans back. "it takes a lot of trust," he says lowly, glancing down at your body. gojo looks up at you, gaze dark and rife with intent. "and we don't take that lightly."
he moves you both further down the bed, laying flat once he has enough room. you're sitting on his thighs and you feel him beneath your leg, hard and wanting.
geto's palms are cold and wet around your waist when they startle you from behind and you jolt, shuddering when he presses a lingering kiss to your nape. you're sopping again already and you want nothing more than to reach forward and snatch gojo by the shoulders to drag his lips onto yours but you can't.
wrists cuffed, your body is trapped between them with gojo at your front and geto at your back. icy anticipation shoots through your veins and lights a fire in your core. you're completely at their mercy now.
gojo sees it on your face and he doesn't make you ask this time as he lifts your thighs up to guide himself inside, not stopping until the flat plane of his hipbones are pressed against the swell of your ass. mouth wet on your neck, geto bites at your shoulder, reaching around to pinch a nipple before withdrawing his hand, the bed dipping as he climbs off.
gojo's grip is firm on your hips and your knees rest outside each of his thighs, wrists still bound behind your back. the next breath you release stutters as it leaves your lips, yet gojo doesn't move. you grind down onto him, lips puffy from overuse, and take the opportunity to luxuriate in being filled up. it's too fucking good, gojo nestled so deeply inside of you that you can feel him in your sternum.
he slowly raises your thighs up from below, bringing you back down just as carefully. you bite back a whimper, every sense heightened by the way gojo and geto can do absolutely whatever they want to you right now. he brings your hips together again, gradually picking up the pace when you openly groan, breasts bobbing as you ride him.
"she takes it so well, doesn't she?" geto says from behind you, the bed shifting as he climbs on again. gojo makes a noise of agreement, hands moving to your waist to steady you. geto cups your ass, urging you on to help you ride gojo more thoroughly.
"like she was born for it," gojo agrees, squeezing your waist in his hands. one of his fingertips wanders up to your breast, dancing around a nipple. you gasp, wrists straining against the cuffs as gojo retracts, his hand rejoining the other at your waist.
you're moving together and gojo is right there every time you sink back down, thrusting up to meet you. he was right, your clit is tired, and you think that maybe you could come from this alone if he just keeps going. there's a click of a cap, the sound of lube being pushed out of a bottle, but you barely hear it, your nerves strung tight with sensation. 
all of a sudden, there are palms on your spine, pressing you down onto gojo’s chest as he continues pumping his hips, his balls making a lewd sound when they slap your ass. you have no choice but to comply and you choke on air as gojo doesn't stop, the angle changing when you slant forward and allowing him to hit your spot. with your wrists behind your back, you would have fallen onto him but gojo is holding you up, one palm warm around your waist and the other supporting your shoulder.
he's fucking you earnestly now, your face an inch above his own. gojo's breathing hard, sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat as your bodies undulate against each other. once again, you ache to take his lips in yours but he doesn't let you, keeping you in place as he keeps pounding himself into you. you’re drunk with it, throwing your head back as pleasure radiates out from your core. 
there's movement behind you as geto rises up on his knees, one of his hands resting on your ass as it moves up and down. he pushes your spine down even more, raising your ass in the air and gojo is ready, meeting you with his tongue and licking into your mouth. ass up and face down, your veins are flooded with icy hot anticipation and you moan into his teeth, arms twisting futilely behind your back as the cuffs hold you in place. 
time grates to a halt when geto's tip breaches your ass, splitting you open from behind. you choke against gojo's lips, who stops moving, breaking away to let geto enter you properly. he's still holding you up as your head falls forward, dropping towards your chest.
"you okay?" gojo's voice is soft but laden with concern, one of his hands coming up to grasp at your jaw. he lifts your chin to meet his eyes and you're in a daze, the pressure overwhelming as geto continues pushing into you for what feels like an eternity. you nod jerkily, chin moving in his hand, and gojo brings you down to his chest, holding you close as geto keeps going until he's fully inside you at the other end.
there's a long moment where you just breathe, face pressed into gojo's shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around you. if you thought you felt full before that was nothing compared to how you feel right now. you're absolutely stuffed to the brim and there's no room left in your lungs for oxygen, every cavern and crevice of your body filled to the brim with nothing but them. 
it's not quite painful but it definitely is a lot, both men shoved in to the hilt. there's only a singular velvety wall separating them and you can feel gojo and geto pressed against each other inside of you. they're still not moving, gojo's palms smoothing up and down your back as he and geto let you adjust to their simultaneous penetration.
you shift your weight and your senses are instantly overwhelmed in a way you've never felt before, every fibre of your being set alight with sensation as hot ecstasy erupts throughout your body. drooping further into gojo's shoulder, you let out a primal groan, unable to produce speech. he makes a knowing noise deep in his throat, a low mhmm-hmm, and gently props you up, holding your torso above his own. the motion moves both of them inside of you and you have to bite back a genuine wail as you feel their thicknesses rub together, hot and hard between your walls.
"just tell us when," gojo says, supporting your entire body like you weigh nothing. geto's palms are warm on your hips from behind and he strokes, soothing. "there's no rush."
geto makes an affirmative sound, the noise loud in the pin-drop silence. you would say something but you're devastated by proximity, gojo inside of you one way and geto in another. your entire being has been subsumed and you're lost in the ocean of their bodies, drifting in the warmth of their hands, the slowness of their breaths, the distinct smell of expensive cologne and sex.
carefully patting your hip, you blink your eyes open as geto gently brings you to the surface. gojo is looking at you, unhurried and steady, and you can feel the same surety radiating from geto behind you.
you heave a shuddering breath, feeling them beneath your skin, in your bones, as they reach into the deepest caverns and crevices of your body. you've never been more certain of anything else in your life when you look at gojo’s face, exhaling loudly to say one word. 
"move."
they don't have to be told twice. gojo pulls out of you in the same instant as geto, both snapping their hips forward to meet at the centre of you. the cry that escapes your mouth is deafening, and the sound is punched out of you again, and again, and again as they thrust together, filling you up beyond measure. you feel like you're going to overflow, brain short-circuiting and body sagging in gojo's hands as he keeps holding you up while he moves alongside geto.
geto quickens his pace and their timing changes, gojo plunging into you in the moment that geto draws himself back. you're not empty for a single second and you fucking love it, choking on air when gojo cranes his neck down to lick your areola. the sounds the three of you are making are absolutely filthy, heavy panting and skin slapping skin as your bodies move together. it's almost like gojo and geto are connected through you and you’re punch-drunk, body moving forwards and backwards on their lengths as they fuck you simultaneously.
you have hands all over you, geto's fingers digging into your hips tight enough that you'll have bruises tomorrow, gojo's arms wrapped around your torso with his palms flat on the skin of your back. you're delirious with it, eyes rolling back as gojo pushes you into a more upright position and in doing so shoves you onto geto, who thrusts forward at the same moment that gojo hits your spot. one of them inside of you was overwhelming but both feels world-ending, pleasure erupting from everywhere and flowing all the way into your fingers and toes. 
you're utterly incapable of speech at this point and you're spewing nonsense; things that sound like words but aren't, guttural moans pouring out of you like rain. your breasts are bouncing furiously and you've never felt like this in your life, each man fucking one of your holes like it's his last day on earth.
arms spasming in the restraints, you keen, high and loud. something visceral has taken over you and the pace they've set inside of you is so much yet somehow still not enough. you need to touch yourself but you can't and you want more, you fucking need more.
"h—harder," you choke, straining against the cuffs. you're aching with desire and burning for release as your entire body is pulled taut by a string that threads through all three of you. "fuck me harder."
the atmosphere in the room changes immediately. gojo's eyes flash and his fingers flex around your waist, the bed shifting as he presses his heels into the mattress to pound into you from below. geto speeds up behind you, thrusting into your ass uninhibited. you can feel them sliding together inside of you and you're fucking choking on air, spluttering as they piston in out of you at light speed.
you're suddenly yanked backwards when a hand grabs you by the cuffs, geto's grip a vice around your wrists. he doesn't stop pushing himself inside of your ass, using your weight as leverage as he leans away to thrust deeper. his free hand seizes a fistful of your hair, pulling your head backwards and shooting tingles of prickly pleasure down to your toes. with your back bowed, you're basically suspended above gojo, geto's position and his hold on your wrists creating an equilibrium between the two of you that lets him support your weight.
the position has consequently raised your face above gojo’s mouth, who hungrily claims your lips with his own while he continues pulling your hips down onto himself from below. you're teary-eyed from sensory overload, gasping against gojo's lips as geto keeps snapping his hips forwards into you, your folds squelching lewdly as gojo does the same. the scent of their cologne and the smell of sex hangs heavy in the air, stifling your lungs as you struggle to suck down air. 
“do—don’t,” you rasp into gojo’s mouth, drunk with the sensation of two hot, hard lengths moving together inside of you. “don’t —ungh— stop.” 
the friction is delicious and it seems like geto thinks so too, his breaths growing laboured behind you. a gasp is punched out of your lungs when he releases your hair to slap your ass hard , the crack audible even amongst all the noises the three of you are making. geto lets go of your wrists to dig his fingers into your hips once more, forcing your spine into a slope as he brings you back onto himself at a punishing speed. gojo’s length keeps rubbing into his inside of you and geto is absolutely losing himself in it, fucking you carnally as you feel more than see him finally approach climax.
gojo breaks away and he isn't looking at you anymore, staring past your face at geto, whose eyes are scrunched shut as he jackrabbits his hips. the way he's moving and the sounds he's making are borderline animalistic, all grunts and heavy breathing. geto is unraveling, his movements turning frantic and you can't do anything but take it as he pushes into you over and over again, single-mindedly chasing his own release.
gojo is still thrusting up into you and from the way he's tensed up you can tell that he's close too, but he's not focused on your pleasure or his own right now. his eyes never leave geto, whose lips have parted as he lets himself pump his hips freely into your ass. your entire body jolts from the movement, anchored by gojo's firm arm around your waist and his length still moving inside of you.
"suguru," comes gojo's voice, pointed and direct. geto opens his eyes and looks at gojo, who's wearing the most serious expression you've ever seen on his face. gojo's tone leaves no room for argument when he speaks.
"come."
geto makes a strangled noise and then it's happening all at once, his rhythm stuttering as his balls tighten and he finally, finally orgasms. he's spurting hotly into your ass and it's neverending— geto just continues coming, filling you up with his seed as his body jerks violently, wracked with pleasure.
inside of you, gojo's length has continued to press against geto’s throughout his climax, and he doesn't stop thrusting even as geto comes down. he actually speeds up when geto begins to soften inside of your ass, sitting up and dragging you onto his lap after geto pulls out.  
the desire to rub your clit is so overpowering that you feel like you might actually die. your head twists despairingly over your shoulder, trying to implore geto to take your cuffs off, when a firm hand grabs your chin and turns your head back around.
gojo's gaze is unwavering as he releases your chin to grab the flesh of your ass, thrusting up and ignoring your eyes blown wide in need.
"don't look at him," his voice is even as it cuts through the frenzied wail that escapes your clenched teeth. "look at me."
you're struggling to comply because you've hit your limit— it's all too fucking much, geto’s come is slippery between your cheeks and you’re aching so hard it hurts because you need to come now. you’re gasping so deeply that it sounds like you’re choking but he doesn't care, bouncing you in his lap even as you whine from oversensitivity.
"didn't you hear me?" it sounds like a question but gojo isn't asking. you can't form words, rendered incoherent by the hurricane of sensation. you can feel him getting close too but he supersedes his own desire to finish, focusing entirely on the task at hand.
gojo's fingers tighten around your jaw, his tone just as unforgiving.
"look. at. me. "
it's akin to weathering a torrential downpour when you muster up every ounce of strength left in your feeble body to open your eyes, meeting gojo's unblinking gaze. you're struggling to suck down air while he stares into your soul, slamming you down onto himself for the last time as he spills deep inside of you, coming so hard his eyes roll back in his head. you're still moving in his lap and you're babbling incoherently as he fills you to the brim, his load and geto's separated only by a thin wall inside of you.
gojo exhales harshly, pumping his hips through the aftershocks as you milk him dry. you're trying not to let the despair show outwardly on your face and you're tugging despondently at the cuffs, thrashing so hard in the restraints that your wrists are bruising. it's only because your eyes are open that you see the wicked grin suddenly quirk gojo's lips, and you're powerless to do anything as he abruptly shoves you backwards into geto's waiting arms.
"you didn't think we forgot, did you?" gojo asks devilishly. geto's hands are warm around your chest and his fingers are pinching your nipples as gojo thrusts up, hard, and directly rails your spot at the same moment his hand darts down to thumb at your swollen clit.
the tension inside your core snaps like a rubber band and the sensory processing centre in your brain implodes instantly, every cell in your body igniting all at once. the raw ecstasy that courses through your veins is so visceral that you feel high, floating somewhere outside of your body as it just doesn’t stop. you barely register that you’re releasing wave after wave of liquid around gojo as your limbs convulse helplessly against geto's chest, every fibre of your being utterly consumed by sensation. the last thing you hear before passing out is gojo's breathless laughter, blackness engulfing the edges of your vision as you fall endlessly into geto's arms. 
*****
you don’t know how much time has passed when strong arms scoop you up, wrapping around your shoulders and under the backs of your knees, carrying your limp body like you weigh nothing. your hand falls toward the floor and you absently wonder when the cuffs were taken off, your other arm folded into a warm chest. head lolling towards a collarbone, the scent of jasmine permeates the corners of your subconscious. you’re distantly aware of being carried into the bathroom, cradled with painstaking care. 
there’s movement around you, the sound of footsteps and taps being turned on, the slow rush of water as it fills up the tub. your eyes are still closed when you’re carefully passed from one pair of arms to another, enveloped by warm water as you’re settled against the smooth skin of a chest, arms wrapping securely around your middle. 
you’re resting on top of firm thighs, enveloped by warmth. you would open your eyes but you can’t because your body isn’t listening, limbs unresponsive and head thick with cottonwool. low sounds are falling from your lips, incoherent murmurs punctuated by the air you forcibly drag into your lungs, made nearly impossible because every fibre of your being is utterly spent. you’re suspended in the water and in this moment in time, succumbing to the black hole created by the vortex of sensation. you’re anchored by the body holding you close, palms around your middle and skin against your spine. a soft kiss is dropped on your nape before your head is gently tilted onto the smooth plane of a shoulder, your throat exposed. 
behind your head, there are hands lathering up your hair, working shampoo into your roots and massaging your scalp. you make a satisfied noise, deep in your throat as the scent of citrus fills the room. shampoo is smoothed all the way to the ends of your hair before the hands retract and you hear footsteps walk around to the other side of the tub, the water rising as another body steps in. once again, you’re passed to waiting arms, a hand settling around your midsection while the other supports your spine. another pair of hands begins to wash the product out of your hair from behind as you’re held chest to chest, rinsing your hair with the bathwater until all you can smell is citrusy shampoo. 
eyelids fluttering, you suddenly come face to face with geto, who’s blinking down at you. he smiles softly as gojo finishes washing your hair, pressing his lips to your forehead when you let out a gratified sigh. limbs still immobile, the water moves around you as he carefully hands you back to gojo, who’s ready at the other end of the tub. your body is completely pliant as gojo positions you slightly in front of him, leaving enough room between the two of you for his hands to rest comfortably on your shoulders, his thighs beneath yours. 
you sigh again, closing your eyes when gojo kneads the flesh of your shoulders, applying enough pressure to release the tension but not so much that it’s painful. bringing your feet onto his lap, geto presses his knuckles into the sole of your foot, dragging them down when you exhale. they massage you like you’re precious, every touch considerate. you melt, relaxed both by the water and their slow hands. 
geto releases your feet and then there’s the sound of a pump, gojo still holding you up by the shoulders while geto begins to gently work soap into the curves and angles of your body, hands delicate on your skin. in the same moment, you hear gojo squeeze something onto his hands, fingers moving to your hair as he threads conditioner through the strands. 
blinking blearily, you raise a weary hand to your forehead, rubbing at a tender spot in the centre. geto gently catches your wrist in one hand, guiding it away from your face. 
“let us take care of you,” he says softly, submerging your hand beneath the surface of the water. “all you need to do is rest.”
gojo is rinsing your hair again and geto’s thumbs are rubbing tender circles into your temples, easing the hazy feeling in your mind. you’re trying your damnedest to keep your eyes open but you’re surrendering to exhaustion by the second, eyelids drooping as gojo finishes washing your hair. geto takes you in his arms once more when gojo stands up, climbing out of the tub to dry off. 
“you did so well,” geto murmurs into your neck. you would reply but your tongue is leaden, limbs loose as gojo lifts you out of the water, his chest warm against your cheek as he walks you both out of the bathroom and toward a waiting towel on the bed. he lays you flat before carefully unfolding your body to start the process of drying. the towel is fluffy and plush against your flesh and gojo takes great care in touching you, his breathing steady while he caresses your skin through the towel. 
being cleaned up has tired you out and you’re losing your grip on consciousness, head heavy as your eyes close. there are hands supporting your back, raising a bottle to your mouth and gently parting your lips to help you drink. the water isn’t as much gulped as it is poured down your throat, cold seeping into your core. the chill is quickly replaced by a warm blanket, tugged up to your shoulders, and the sensation of two bodies, one bracketing either side of you. 
you’re warm with sleep, listening to the measured draw of their breaths as they inhale, exhale, inhale and exhale again. there’s a palm on your spine and another on your side as you fall into the abyss, content to let the yawning mouth of exhaustion swallow you whole. 
*****
when you wake up several hours later, you have no idea how much time has passed. the bed is empty save for you in the middle, cushioned by a border of pillows. you’re still naked but warmed by the cocoon of the blanket, which has trapped heat beneath its surface. collecting yourself, last night comes back to you all at once, flashes of hot mouths and firm hands and quick tongues. it was by far the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and probably also the best sex you will have until the end of it. 
you sit up, realizing that you’re so hungry you could definitely consume an elephant. your stomach rumbles in agreement and you’re starving but you almost don’t want to leave the bed to bear the cold world outside, the high thread count and goosefeather pillows enticing you to come back even as you stand up. there are clothes laid over a chaise in the corner; upon closer inspection, you see a comfortable bra and underwear, along with a sweater and leggings. your dress from last night is folded neatly, your lacy bra and fancy panties tucked discreetly into a bag beside it. 
glancing down at your body properly, you notice for the first time the bruises around your wrists, which are rubbed raw. you peer down at your chest, which is similarly bruised. still naked, you make your way to the bathroom, gasping at the sight of your body in the mirror. 
there’s no unmarred skin left on your neck; it’s absolutely littered with hickeys and bruises. your thighs are in a similar state, and you twist around to inspect your back, lovebites and marks scattered across your shoulder blades. your ass is bruised red and purple in the shape of fingerprints, the fading handprint impossible to miss across one of your cheeks. dimly, you register a dull throb between your legs. departing from the bathroom, you can’t help but be impressed because damn, they went to town on you. 
you tug the sweater over your head and pull the leggings on, both from designer brands. picking up your dress and the bag, you take a second to marvel at the stunning view before you leave. the residence is situated so high into the sky that you’re struck by the ridiculous thought that they both literally and figuratively took you to cloud nine. 
the suite is even more opulent in the daylight, white marble gleaming and tall arches cavernous as you walk down the hall towards the kitchen. gojo is perched on a barstool when you round the corner, tapping on his phone. geto is at the stove, flipping something in a pan. 
gojo perks up at the sound of your footsteps, spinning around in the stool. “the beast awakens!” 
you make a face at him, setting down your bag and dress onto the counter. “one of us is a beast, and it’s definitely not me.” 
gojo titters, spinning in his chair. “i knew my gut was right when i spotted you.”
there’s a plate piled high with pancakes waiting for you, still warm. syrup and butter are off to the side and you wince when you sit down, pain radiating from your ass even though the barstool’s leather is soft. 
geto turns around, holding a spatula and wearing an apron that says kiss the cook, but don’t touch the buns! the concerned expression on his face makes you bite back your smile. 
“you okay?” he asks, unconvinced when you nod. his brow furrows as he looks at you, scanning your body. “we went really hard last night, i’m sorry. you’re going to be sore for a while.” 
“you have nothing to be sorry about,” you say, picking up a knife and fork to dig into the pancakes. “i’ve never enjoyed anything more in my life.” 
geto chuckles, turning back to the pan. “i’m glad. we had a really good time, too.” 
you’re eating the pancakes with so much fervour that gojo glances up from his phone, an impressed look on his face. 
“we also have eggs and croissants, if pancakes aren’t the vibe,” geto says from the stove, his back still to you. your mouth is too stuffed with pancake to reply. 
“i think she’s fine with the pancakes,” gojo snickers, puffing his cheeks in imitation and ignoring the glare you cast in his direction. 
geto somehow senses that gojo is being a brat and turns around, brandishing his spatula. “the only reason we’re even having the breakfast of a kindergartner is because cavity-man over here needed his sugar fix.” he turns back around to flip a pancake presumably destined for said cavity-man’s stomach. 
“dentists love me,” gojo sniffs, hopping down from the barstool. he breaks the rule emblazoned on geto’s apron and squeezes his ass from behind, letting out a squawk when geto whirls around and smacks him with the spatula. 
cleaning your plate at a remarkable speed, you’re just starting to wonder where your phone and purse have gone when gojo appears with both in his hands. he makes no move to bring them to you and you sigh aggravatedly, climbing down from the barstool to take them from him yourself. 
he smirks evilly, holding them high in the air and far beyond your reach. “didn’t we have a conversation about manners?” 
you resist the urge to jump, mainly because your ass hurts too much to do so, and settle for scowling at gojo, who’s still holding your things tauntingly above your head. he’s so unbearably tall that any hope you have of swatting at his hands is laughable. 
geto walks over and reaches up, fingers plucking your phone and purse from gojo’s hands. he ignores gojo’s indignant huff as he hands them to you. 
“we’d love to give you our numbers,” he says, eyes kind. “if you’re up for it, we’d really like to do this again sometime.”
like a vampire, all you need is an invitation and you’ll just keep showing up forever. “i would love nothing more.” 
standing in front of both of them, you’re once again struck by how tall they are. gojo is leaning an arm onto geto’s shoulder, who’s still holding the spatula. they gaze at you and for a moment you’re reminded of last night. not usually one to be bashful, you duck your head, biting your lip. the events of last night will be staying with you for a while. 
“there’s a car waiting for you downstairs whenever you’re ready to go,” geto says, and you look up. “though we wouldn’t mind if you stayed a little longer.” 
gojo pushes away from geto, striding forward to grab your wrist and drag you into the living space. he plops you down onto the couch in front of a massive tv, taking your things from your hands and tossing them beside you.  
“you’re right, i’m a fucking beast at mario kart,” gojo drawls, opening something you didn’t realize was a drawer and pulling out two controllers. “i’m princess peach, of course.” 
you accept the controller, rolling your eyes. “why does that make so much sense?” 
gojo doesn’t dignify that with a response, turning on the switch before yelling into the kitchen where geto is still cooking. “suguru, i want extra sprinkles on my pancakes!” 
“kill yourself,” geto calls back. gojo takes this reply as an affirmative and jostles your shoulder, pointing at the nintendo logo when the screen flickers to life. “you can be bowser, since he looks just like you.” 
you can’t help but laugh, the smell of pancakes wafting into the room as gojo glances sideways, his eyes dancing. smiling to yourself, you think that being stood up is the best thing that ever could have happened to you.
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narcissistshandler · 7 months
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giving miguel head while he explains complicated concepts of the multiverse. 😳 at first he chuckles when reader requests this, but he starts to struggle and lose track of what he was talking about. his voice becomes more desperate as he tries to explain all this stuff he knows to reader with his talons gripping at his love’s skull and his voice shaking and melting into pretty breathy moans until he can’t think of what he was talking about and instead fucks reader’s throat til he’s an overstimulated, sobbing mess
𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘
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✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn!reader x miguel o'hara
✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 blowjob (reader giving), deep throat, slight overstimulation at the end, reader has no gender or genitalia mentioned, a little of blood
✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This was in my drafts for two weeks and honestly I don't remember what/how I wrote half of it, but still, this request was delicious
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"—Are you listening to me?"
You blinked, seeming to come back to reality and looked into Miguel's judgmental brown eyes.
"I've been speaking Spanish for the last ten minutes," he continued before you had time to speak.
"I am," you insisted. Your first instinct was to lie. The truth was no, you weren't paying the slightest attention to any of all that complicated science and physics coming out of Miguel's mouth, even though from the beginning your focus hadn't left his lips framing every complex and long word, occasionally rising to appreciate that expression of concentration on his usually serious face that shouldn't be so erotic to anyone but you.
Miguel's eyes fell to your lap, as if he could see through the pillow you were holding, his brow immediately frowning in that way that indicated his bad mood.
"So what is the simple concept of what constitutes a Multiverse?" he questioned, sounding so much like a hot, strict teacher that you felt your sex throb in response, too distracted to even try to think of an answer. "What are the ways to overcome the barriers that separate our world from other universes?" Silence. "What happens when there is a divergence in events? Where does the variety of these universes originate?"
You knew the answer to some of these questions as someone who had heard more than enough about this subject: the multiverse was nothing more than the aggregate of parallel realities and bla bla bla. But that wasn't what Miguel wanted to hear, he wanted concise, long and scientifically coherent answers and that's why you preferred to keep your mouth shut.
"You weren't listening," he concluded with a sigh.
"Keep talking, I'll pay attention this time."
Miguel looked into your darkened eyes, noting the warm innuendo in your tone and then once again, his attention fell to the pillow that covered your lap. "You're excited," he observed, then continued seeming disgusted and irritated: "Why? Physics does that to you?"
“You do this to me,” you said. Miguel's expression seemed to become even darker. "You always seem so focused and intelligent while talking about these things I can't understand, it's sexy."
"You were the one who asked me to teach you, I didn't know this was a fantasy of yours," he pointed out.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you asked soflty as you got up from the sofa where you sat next to Miguel and fell to your knees in front of his feet, your hands running up his bare legs until they slid under the hem of his shorts. "Continue teaching me, please? I promise I'll pay attention this time."
Miguel half growled at you, not seeming too willing to indulge in your fantasies even as his legs opened in pure muscle memory to give you room to fit between them and desire flashed in his eyes.
"How are you supposed to pay attention to what I say with my penis in your mouth? That doesn't seem like a very concise teaching method." Even with you kneeling in front of him on the floor of the apartment's living room, Miguel seemed genuinely concerned about teaching you some real knowledge about multiverse.
You rubbed your hand against the bulge in his shorts to bring him to hardness, laughing a little at how genuine Miguel was sometimes.
"You talk, I listen, then you can test me to see if I really learned something or not."
Miguel opened his mouth, looking ready to retort with some argument, but your fingers fitting into the elastic waistband of his shorts was enough to make him swallow back his words. “Okay,” he agreed finally, lifting his hips off the couch to let you pull his shorts down his legs and discard them on the floor.
"Without underwear?" You inquired teasingly, your fingers closing around Miguel's thick cock that was slowly getting hard for you and pulling him into slow, steady thrusts.
Miguel sighed at the sudden touch, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the teasing.
"Back to the beginning," he started to say, ignoring your words. "When we talk about the Multiverse, this refers to a conception of multiple universes or parallel realities existing simultaneously. Together, these universes are presumed to comprise everything that exists: the entirety of space, time, matter, energy..."
Your tongue trailed in a wet line from the base to the head, interrupting Miguel's speech as he trailed off with a soft sigh.
That usual satisfaction made you smile between the licks you dragged along his length, feeling the pulsation of the bulging veins against your tongue, your fingers keeping his dick firm at the base. Your lips parted, gently sucking the side of the bulbous, red head where drops of precum were beginning to leak.
Miguel let out the most beautiful moan, one of his hands falling into your hair.
“Oh,” he sighed softly, voice already falling into that deep tone that always did things to you. You looked up at the same time you slid your tongue over the slit leaking from his cock; Miguel's eyes met yours, warm and shining. He took a deep breath and continued speaking: "In the concept of multiverse, a scheme is imagined in which... all universes aggregate each other across an infinite vastness..."
He looked so composed even with your mouth on his dick and you wanted to break that composure of his until it became nothing, until his mind stopped working and the only coherent thought he had left was fucking your throat.
Miguel doesn't stop talking when your fingers tighten around his length in a grip that borders on painful and your mouth opens so you can take his length. His cock filled your mouth, the warm, smooth skin sliding over your tongue and inward in a delicious, welcome weight that made your skin tingle. Almost instinctively, you searched for more, leaning forward and taking him deeper, your free hand feeling Miguel's thigh muscles tense under your touch.
Saliva pooled in your mouth and as soon as you pulled your head back, spit slid down his length to his heavy balls and a wet line ran down your chin, a mess you knew Miguel liked. As expected, his breathing stuttered and you saw him losing his train of thought at the sight of your saliva-glossy lips stretching around the thickness of his dick.
"...In addition to the state superpos- superposition property, there are many other phenomena that occur as quantum-scale systems, such as quantum tunneling, quantum e-entanglement..."
The firm fingers tangled in the strands of your hair suddenly became sharper, like thick needles scratching your scalp. The threat of the grab hung in the air, filling your stomach with a tense heat as you realized they were Miguel's deadly talons, which could penetrate through the fragility of your skin in seconds and even an accidental scratch could draw blood. This realization shook you to the core and a moan rose in your throat.
"... So you can connect gravity and the other three forces in an apparently firm way?" he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Dios mío."
It took you a few seconds to understand the jumbled words that came out of his mouth, but when you did you knew that you had achieved your objective, as the argument didn't seem to fit into any part of the multiverse theory.
Tears blocked the corners of your vision, jaw opening wider to take Miguel's cock deeper, the tip slapping against your cheek and tongue before going deeper, and then more and more. The salty taste of precum, sweat, and something else you could only describe as Miguel's taste rising in the back of your throat, clouding all your senses and pushing away the urgency burning between your legs. All that mattered was Miguel.
At that moment, your entire world was just Miguel's body contracting on the couch under the heat of your mouth, the heavy leg he had thrown over your shoulder and his heel digging into your shoulder blade in an attempt to bring you impossibly closer. There was a distinct feeling of discomfort growing in your body, Miguel's grip was strong and painful, his rationality seemed to have dissolved under the pleasure.
"[n-name] [name] [name] [name], por favor." The beautiful moans of your name in his voice echoed through the room in repeated, stammered repetitions.
The gag reflex kicked in, the bulbous head of Miguel's cock pressing past the tightness of your throat. Your eyes closed in an attempt to fight the immediate instinct to choke and suffocate, the desire to give Miguel everything he wanted was stronger. You willingly obeyed the grip of the talons on your head keeping you still, your mouth falling open and easy for the deep thrusts.
Resisting him, the urgency with which his hips undulated, as if he needed the pleasure to breathe, felt equal to having at least one pulled muscle and a deep cut left behind.
Fortunately, fighting him was far from your intention.
You could feel as his dick twitched inside your mouth and the thick, salty liquid filled your throat, which rose and fell as you swallowed. Your eyes opened, tears running down your cheeks, you closed your lips around Miguel's pulsing length, sucking. Miguel's reaction was lascivious, his thrusts becoming erratic, whole body shaking violently, his talons sinking at least a few centimeters into your skin, until it breaks under the pressure.
Hot liquid ran down the back of your neck, the pain was a distant thing in your warm body, your fingers digging into the soft skin of Miguel's thighs as you pressed the nose against the curly hair of his groin. Miguel whimpered as his cock continued to spurt small jets deep down your throat, tears glistening in his eyes and fangs sinking into the lower lip.
You had lied again, you hadn't paid attention to anything he said, but it didn't matter since you doubted that Miguel remembered what even was a subatomic particle now.
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lovingmattysposts · 3 months
Text
You don't know me 20
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P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18
pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo
summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.
warnings: mentions of wanting to self harm, mentions of death, mentions of depression, sadness.
also go ahead and pull up google translate now to make your life easier because there is some french words in this chapter, ily
xoxo, autumn
I pushed the door open slightly. Sydney was on her phone scrolling through it. "Hey, you're back early I didn't expect--" Her voice stopped when she saw my face. Once her eyes connected with mine, my eyes closed as my whole body curled, shaking as I sobbed.
"Y/n" She jumped up, her phone being long forgotten as she ran up to me, and held me up from falling. I laid against her, crying gasping for air. She just held me tight.
"W-What happened?" She asked quickly as I cried. I shook my head. "I-I don't know" I whispered as I cried. She sighed as she pulled me over to her bed. I curled up into a ball before I felt Sydney slide against me pulling me to her as her hands combed through my hair.
"Shh, it's gonna be okay. You're going to be okay" She whispered. I just shook my head, because the last possible thing I thought I was ever going to feel again was, okay.
chris pov
"Chris, wake up"
"Wake up"
I jolted up after feeling my shoulder being shoved. I rubbed my eyes as I sat up. I turned seeing my grandpa standing over me. "What?" I groaned as I blinked my eyes open.
I barley got any sleep last night, I couldn’t stop thinking. I couldn’t stop mourning a relationship that didn’t even happen. I hated that I was being shook away because when I woke up it shocked me back into reality. As soon as I woke up I realized and relived the emotions of last night over again as if it happened again right now.
"What is this?"
I looked up at him, then seeing the paper that was wrinkled in his hands. I looked up at him before grabbing the paper out of his hands. "Nothing" I mumbled. "Chris, what is that?" He said harshly. I sighed as I looked at my hands.
"Who wrote it?" He snapped. I licked my lips. "Christopher Owen, answer me" He snapped. I looked up at him. He never used my full first name unless he was mad mad.
"Y/n. Y/n wrote it okay?" I mumbled shaking my head. He stared down at me, before crossing his arms over his chest. "Why was it crumbled up outside?" He asked. I groaned leaning back against my pillows.
I did not want to have this conversation right now.
I felt him grab my arm pulling me back up harshly. I ripped my arm from him, glaring at him. "What the fuck?" I spat. "Why was it crumbled up outside?" He asked again. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at his expression. Why was he so fucking angry? What time was it?
"Did you read it?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I blinked up at him swallowed. "I-" I mumbled. "Chris did you read it?" He said again. I shook my head. He took a step back before looking up at the ceiling.
I grabbed the paper in front of me, looking over the words written across is messily, like she had written it fast, some of the words crumbled slightly from the state of the paper. My heart raced as i read it.
Chris,
"tu m'as ouvert les yeux, car je ne pourrais jamais rembourser, parce que tu m'as montré un amour que je n'aurais jamais cru possible dans mes rêves les plus fous."
Did you know I spoke french? My parents started me in lessons when I was a little girl, now i'm fluent. I've never spoken the french that I've learned, afraid of embarrassment from my fears. Well my previous fears.
I thought the language was so beautiful, but I was afraid to speak it in front of others I was afraid they would think I was bragging in a sense. I didn’t want to step out of line and make more eyes noticed me. Sometimes i practice in my room at night so I know that I haven’t forgotten what I learned.
I don't really know what to say, this is why I'm writing it down because I know as soon as I look at you every thought that's in my head will vanish, because being around you felt like I was floating. Like I didn't have to think.
I think my tendencies for overthinking came from feeling like a stranger in my own skin, scared for judgment from everyone I was around. With you I feel safe, almost as if your arms are around me every second we're together guarding me from the harshness of the world.
The feeling of that is indescribable, which is why I have to write it because I can't think when I'm around you. I guess there is a word for that, but I was scared to say it to you. I was scared that you wouldn't say it back.
But I can't help from the fear leaving my body when I'm around you. I realized it isn't scary, because It's how I feel. You showed me what the feeling is, so it's only fair I tell you.
I guess I'll translate the quote for you. God why am I nervous? I'm sitting here in my bedroom writing this, nervous as if you're sitting right next to me staring at me. I guess a part of me always feels like you're around. Chris, it's one of the most comforting things in the world.
I broke up with Max---
My heart shattered as I stared at the page. I looked up at my grandpa who's jaw was hard looking down at me. I felt like someone stuck their hand into my chest and ripped my heart out with their bare fucking hands.
I swallowed as my eyes rescanned the page.
I broke up with Max today. It was scary. Fucking terrifying. But I did it, because I knew that if I didn't--If I stayed with him out of fear, I would never get to be with you. That's a worse punishment that being forced to be with someone who hurts me.
Okay, I'm rambling shit. Sorry I’m just writing down everything that comes to mind because I’m nervous. Okay, I'll translate the quote.
you opened my eyes, for I could never repay, because you showed me a love that I never thought possible in my wildest dreams.
Chris, I'm so madly in love with you. I have to fight the urge to say it every time I look at you, because I'm scared you won't say it back. But then I realized something. Love is unconditional. I started to think about it and I don't really care if you love me back.
Chris, you're so strong, you've been through so much. If you don't love me I completely understand that, but for once in my life--I'm not scared to sit here and tell someone what i'm thinking, what I'm feeling. Chris, I fucking love you.
I never really felt like I had a personality until I met you. Kissing you that night at the party, is the only thing in my life that I did right. That I'm proud of.
My biggest regret turned into the thing that saved me, that keeps me living and breathing, you.
I know how stupid this is to right it down, but I knew that I would lose my train of thought if I looked at you and said it, but for everyday until you get sick and tired of me, I'll tell you that I love you. Because feeling this is the best thing that's ever happened to me.
You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.
Your heart is so pure, you're so kind. The thought of ever losing you makes me sick to my stomach. I know i'm not perfect, I know i've put you through the ringer, because I'm fucking scared. But you don't make it scary. If you can forgive me for making you wait, I'll never let you regret it.
I'm writing this so fast, because I know you're gonna be knocking on my window any minute, and I'm also sorry for my shitty handwritting, fuck i'm so nervous, okay. I love you so much, I can't wait to give this to you. I’m actually shaking with nerves and excitement.
chaque enfer que j'ai traversé pour t'atteindre en valait la peine.
puis-je s'il te plaît être ta petite amie?
I pressed the note to my face as tears poured down my face. "Fuck" I cried. The feeling of the weight on my chest was indescribable. My shoulders shook as I held the note against my face.
"Please tell me you didn't crumble up that note in front of her" My grandpa whispered. I looked up at him, tears falling down my face. He sighed before pulling me up, as if I was a child and pulling me against him. I grabbed onto him and cried against him.
He just held me as I cried against him. "I can--can't lose her like I lost Rose." I cried. He held me tight against him. "How do I manage to fuck up every good thing that happens to me?" I cried pressing my face into his shoulder. He sighed as he rubbed my back.
-
y/n pov
"Are you going to school?"
I blinked at the wall, my eyes heavy from the lack of sleep. My chest heavy. I didn't answer. Sydney sighed and walked over to me. "Are you going to be okay if I go?" She asked softy. I didn't look up at her. She just stood above me, her bag over her shoulder.
She walked me home last night. She stayed with me all night until she fell asleep. I never did. I couldn't stop thinking. I stopped crying eventually. It felt like hours though, the sun had started to rise by then.
The noises stopped but the pain continued. The only thing I could think about, the only thing consuming me was the words he screamed at me.
"You're just like fucking Rose"
I closed my eyes. The one person who hurt him the most, he compared me too. I didn't have the energy to speak, tell him that wasn't true. If he would have just let me read the letter, if I would have just spoken up. I thought I was strong.
I wasn't.
Not without him.
It was a snap back into reality. Like when he started to raise his voice, every ounce of confidence he produced in me, came crashing at my feet. Showing me, you aren’t strong. You’re the weakest person ever and you always will be.
Sydney's hand came over the top of my head. "You look pretty" She whispered, smiling down at me. I glanced up at her. I didn't feel pretty. My entire life I've been praised for the way I looked, but I guess the downside of that was not being praised for the person who I was inside.
I'd rather be complimented on who I was, not what I looked like. But no one ever really stuck around to figure out that part of me. Not even the one person I showed it to.
"I never want to see you again"
I let out a breath. "I love you, y/n" She whispered before she walked towards my door and I heard it shut. I turned and laid against my pillows as I stared up at the ceiling.
Now, I wish I hadn't.
The stars lining the ceiling, dimly shining. I closed my eyes. Something bigger than yourself y/n, something bigger than your problems. I blinked my eyes opened. I couldn't even think when looking at my one escape anymore. Because now when I looked at the stars, all I saw was him.
"Happy birthday" He whispered against my lips.
I closed my eyes, feeling my chest clench. I meant everything I said in that letter. A letter that will now never be read. I rolled over, pulling the covers over my body. Maybe I just need some sleep. Sleep is good, sleep is peaceful.
-
My stomach growled angrily. I haven't moved. The sun set. Sydney texted me a few times. She was going out of town for the next two days with Cayden's family. I was alone. Completely and utterly alone.
I responded to her texts because I wanted to her to know that I was still alive. Still alive but not breathing. Not living. I've replayed last night in my head a milllion times. Played out different endings. Endings where I spoke up. Endings where the night ended with him telling me he loved me too.
Endings that don't exist.
The worst part about the whole thing is that I couldn't stop thinking about the old razors that laid beneath my drawers, hidden. I've fought my mind all day. All fucking day long. Telling myself I'm stronger than this. I'm stronger than my mind and thoughts.
The other part of my brain telling me, I have nothing left. I'd almost get up when my mind would move to the only person who saw them.
his lips trailed from the bottom ones all the way to the ones up my hipbone.
Pressing his lips to every, single, one.
I smiled down at him as my lips quivered. "You're so beautiful" He mumbled against my skin.
"Absolutely beautiful"
I swallowed, remembering how I felt in that moment. Wishing I could go back there. In that moment. It was the only thing keeping me in my bed and not walking over into my bathroom, that and the ill physical ability to move. That's the Chris I knew, not the one who shouted at me like I was a stranger.
I thought I was stronger than this, but I don't think I ever was. If I was strong I would have broken up with Max the second he laid his hands on me. If I was strong I would have taken control of my life a long time ago. If I was strong, I would have spoken up. If I had a fucking bone in my back, I would have never lost Chris.
The worst part is what he thinks of me. It wasn't fair, It wasn't true.
I wasn't strong. I was never strong.
My mother's words rang through my ears. "Standing up for yourself, does nothing but trouble for yourself." I used to live by that. Now I know that isn't true, because If it was. I wouldn't feel like this. Chris would be here, kissing me, telling me he loves me too. But he doesn't. He isn't.
I swallowed as my eyes closed. I hated being awake, because when I was awake, I thought. I hated thinking, because I never thought the right thing. Sleep. Just sleep. I couldn't even close my eyes without seeing the stars on my ceiling shining through my closed lids.
It wasn't fair.
Tap. Tap.
My eyes shot open and I froze. My head turned as I listened to the noise, over the wind blowing outside. It had started raining when I was asleep. It turned into a storm shortly after I woke up. The storm being the only thing I could focus on, because I didn't have the energy to do anything else. It was the only thing that alerted me that I was still alive, that this was all real.
So I just listened as the heavy rain started and the thunder boomed. Even the weather was taunting me.
Tap, Tap, Tap
My chest clenched. You're imagining it. You haven't eaten, you haven't drank any water. You're hallucinating. I sat up, running my hands over my face. I've resorted in full on hallucinations.
As the wind blew, the tapping came. I swallowed as my eyes trained on the door. I pushed the covers off of me and walked over to the door. My feet froze against the cold wood under my feet as I stalked over to the door.
Please be there. Please.
I pushed the door open before looking out onto the balcony. I heard the tap to my left. My head turned before seeing an overgrown branch from my tree tapping the glass of my door as the wind blew. A horrible feeling came up my throat as I stared at the tree branch that I had mistaken for someone who was never going to come knocking at my door ever again.
I felt my face scrunch up and my eyes watered as I walked over to the branch that was responsible for the noise, breaking it off before throwing it over my balcony, into the pool.
It making a splash sound when it hit the water. I leaned over the railing as I watched the branch plunge deep into the water and then bob up to the surface, floating.
"I like your eyes" I whispered not thinking as I just stared at him. He smiled as his hands were locked around my waist. We were in the declining part of the deep end, he could stand—I couldn't. So I held onto him for dear life.
"Yeah?" He whispered. I nodded. "They're pretty" I stated. He smiled. I sighed looking at him. He parted his mouth looking at me, just heavy breaths being heard from both of us, from the coldness of the water. "I'm really cold" I whispered feeling my clothes now drenched sticking to my body. He smiled and nodded. "Yeah me too" He chuckled.
We just stared at each other.
I swallowed before I felt him lean into me, I leaned in too before our foreheads were pressed together and we just stared at each other, our lips less than an inch away from touching. A position we had been in before but this time it was different. This time I felt it so much it hurt my chest.
I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat as I hid my view of the pool. He was everywhere.
"Y/n"
He eyes snapped open. God, I'm hearing things now? I turned my head before meeting a pair of blue eyes at the other end of the balcony. I froze as I looked at him. Chris. Standing there. Chills rose on my skin. He walked towards me.
Is this real?
I glanced down to the crumbled paper in his hands. I didn't look at him again as I turned looking back towards the pool, closing my eyes as tears pooled in them. It was real.
"Y/n" His voice broke. I shook my head as I hung my head. I heard the board of my balcony creak as he approached me. "I-" My voice broke. I swallowed gaining feeling in my legs again.
"I don't wanna hear you say it okay?" I whispered as my eyes blinked open, but stayed turned away from him. I couldn't look at him, when I said this because I'm scared the words wouldn't come out.
"Like I said in the letter--" I shook my head. "It's okay that you don't love me back--I just don't--" I swallowed as a single tear fell off my face onto my arms that were against the railing. "I just don't wanna hear you say it" I broke shaking my head.
I felt his presence next to me more than I should. I guess I have ever since I met him, but him actually standing here was almost too much. I turned my head from him, as my lip quivered.
God, I was so weak and I hated it.
I meant what I said in the letter, I didn't care If he didn't love me back. I would understand if he didn't love me back and I would completely and utterly respect that decison. I guess what I wasn't ready for was if he didn't want me back. If he didn't love me back, that was okay, but if he didn't want me back. I didn't know what to do.
I guess I never thought of that as a possibility.
"I love you, y/n"
My eyes opened as I turned to look at him, him staring down at me. He shook his head. "It's why I didn't go to your party, it's why I got so angry, it's why I'm acting like a fucking insane asshole--" He shook his head looking down at me.
"I didn't want to fall in love with you" He whispered. "But I did" His voice spoke. I just blinked at him. "And I hated myself for it" He shook his head. "I didn't tell you because I felt guilty--" He shook his head.
"Guilty because of Rose, Guilty because you had a boyfriend, guilty because of who I fell in love with" He breathed. I looked down at my feet and swallowed. "But.." He whispered.
"Y/n you're smart" He smiled shaking his head. "You're kind" He sighed. I looked up at him. "You're strong, much stronger than I am" He breathed looking down at me. I shook my head.
"No Chris--" I whispered.
"No listen to me, I love you" He said grabbing my hand. I looked down at our hands. "I've never cared less about who you are, who you were with, what people think---Y/n, last night--" He shook his head as tears filled his eyes.
"I--was so angry because I loved you, and I thought that I wasn't going to be able to have the person that I loved again, and that fucking hurt" He shook his head.
"Y/n, I've never felt worse about myself than when I read this letter." He whispered gripping the paper. I swallowed hanging my head. "I've never regretted anything more than what I said to you" He shook his head. I licked my lips.
"I love you, I love all of you, every single part, every single flaw. I know that I'm not much, but I promise you with ever fiber in my body that I will never speak to you with such words ever again for as long as I live. I will never let my anger cloud the love and care I have for you. I'm so fucking sorry" He breathed staring down at me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, as I pulled my hand from his.
"Chris"
"No, please. Y/n, listen to me" Tears pooled his eyes. I shook my head as he spoke. He dropped to his knees making me look down at him. "Please, I'm so sorry" He said grabbing my hand again and bringing it to his lips.
"I'll love you unconditionally. I'll show you what it feels like to be loved, because no one in the fucking world deserves it more than you" He whispered. I bit my lip as I looked down at his teary blue eyes.
"Just give me a chance to" His voice barely heard. "I'm a fucking-----idiot" He cried as he hung his head, pressing his head against our hands. I just watched him.
I let out a breath before dropping to my knees as well, leaning back on my heels as I caught his eyes, pulling our hands into my lap. "Chris, please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry" I whispered as tears pooled my eyes. He just looked at me as tears ran down his face.
"I can't lose you" he shook his head. "I don't care about the past. I don't care that my life isn't fair---that our lives aren't fair---I don't care that you made me wait, I don't care about your ex boyfriend, the only thing I care about his that we make it out. that we get our happy ending" He whispered softly.
I closed my eyes.
"s'il te plaît, ramène-moi, jer suiesse un idiot" He stuttered slowly. I let out a small chuckled. "it's pronounced je suis" I smiled. His lips curved into a smile. "s'il te plaît, sois ma petite amie" He shook his head smiling.
"rien ne me rendrait plus heureux" I smiled as I looked at him. He just blinked at me. "I-I only learned yes and no in french" He said shaking his head. I chuckled and hung my head before nodding and smiling.
"Oui, Oui, Oui" I nodded smiling. His face lit up before he leaned forwards wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off my feet, burying his face against me as he picked me up with ease.
I wrapped my legs around him, hugging him as I cried. "I love you so much" He whispered. I brought his face into my hands and smiled before pressing his lips to mine.
Our lips molded together, a salty taste across our lips from the tears. I pulled back, pushing my thumb across his face to wipe the tears. "Chris" I whispered. He just chuckled and smiled up at me.
"It's really cold out here" I whispered. He smiled before pushing the door open and pulling me back into my room.
this is not the last chapter.
just letting you know that..........
@sleepysturnss @frankdelreyy @ahastrns @lavie627 @bernardstrombonixx @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturniolossmut @sturniololol @chrisstopherfilmed @l9vesick @sturvoblur @7tee3n @stylesnsturnz @nick2thick @chrizzypooks @sturniolosmind @m4tthewsgf @lookingatsab @mattscokewhore @lovergirl4387 @fake-sturniolos @theweeknd-fan @leahdsullivan00 @3iysian @angelworldspost @user25701874 @niastqrniolo @sturnnai @christinarowie332 @sturniofilmd @lexisecretaccx @sturnioloslife @rosiegirl80 @miastromboli @st7rn @sophie21153-blog @poopiannrose @jindoritheworld @pinkpearlsrry @justaslvttygirl @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @bernardenjoyer @livluvschris @mattestrella @erodaangel
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minisugakoobies · 12 days
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It's You - Choi San | 3 AM
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Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me
Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?
A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱
Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.
Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕
It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist
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It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career. 
There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.
“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.” 
San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes. 
“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!” 
“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you. 
“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.” 
With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff. 
You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.
“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 
It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this. 
But he can’t sleep here. 
“San. San, are you awake?” 
“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.
“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!” 
San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to. 
“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.” 
You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.
It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.
San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.” 
He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing. 
“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…” 
“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it. 
“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”
“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!” 
This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.
Like when you need to kick him out of your bed. 
He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy. 
So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.
His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober. 
And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you. 
If you reach that point. 
“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks.  “I like kissing you.” 
You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.” 
“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same. 
“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.” 
“Then what time is it?”
Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him. 
“It’s time for you to go to bed.” 
“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again. 
“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on. 
But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.
“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!” 
San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?” 
Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since. 
Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.
Doesn’t mean you like it, though. 
“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “
The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom. 
“Noona.” 
You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again. 
“She’s in early today, right?” 
The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.
“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.” 
He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?
Yeah, that’s probably it. 
“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.
“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?” 
And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance. 
“Okay.”
San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.
“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly. 
“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.
“Right, none of that.”
“Just cuddles?” 
As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding. 
“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.” 
Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t. 
You’re feeling suddenly inspired. 
(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)
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If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕
Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch
© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 months
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[2:49 am]
(cw: mentions of sex but there’s none I promise)
"Agh! Oh fuck!" You heard, even through the flat pillow pressed to your ear.
You were frustrated, on the brink of angry crying. Sometimes you hated being at the frat house, and this was one of those moments. These moments didn't happen often. One, because fratboy!Jaehyun often spent the night at your dorm, or two, his frat brothers weren't fucking at 2- nearly 3 in the morning!
You couldn't even tell who it was and you didn't want to know, all you wanted was to fall asleep and hope that you didn't hear this girl moaning in your sleep.
But it didn't happen, in fact, you started hearing bumping against the wall. God, this was awful.
You sat up angrily, ripping the comforter off your body and got out of the bed.
Jaehyun blinked his eyes open groggily, "Baby? What's wrong?"
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes to find a sense of calm and only felt brief relief of your burning eyes. "I'm going home," you answered bluntly.
You moved around the room, pulling on one shoe while grabbing one of Jaehyun's hoodies.
Jaehyun got out of bed, too stumbling after you, clearly tired and confused. "It's like 3 in the morning, you're not going home right now."
"Exactly! I've been laying on a mattress barely thicker than a textbook, with flat pillows, a sheet that clearly doesn't fit, and one of your disgusting frat brothers has decided this is the perfect time to fuck at normal volume. I'm just so tired!" You exclaim, tired tears filling your eyes.
Jaehyun's eyes widen in shock, he pulls you into a hug, rubbing a comforting hand up and down your back. When he finally listens in, he can hear the moans and grunts coming from nearby and wonders how that hadn't woken him up too.
"I'll handle all of it ok? You're not leaving, it's late and I'd rather you stay here. Just lay down, I'll get you another blanket, and you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything else," he tells you before pressing a kiss to your forehead and leading you back to his bed.
He quickly adjusts the sheets, fluffing up his pillows, and lays out another blanket for you. He pulls some white noise machine he'd won as a white elephant gift out of the closet and puts on calming ocean noises on for you before he slips out of his room, making sure his door is closed behind him.
He walks down the hall until he finds the door where the noise is coming from. Haechan's door. He knocks for a while until the door opens to reveal a smiley, fully dressed, Haechan. "What's up, bro?"
Jaehyun raises his eyebrows as he peeks inside, there's no one there. "Did your girl escape through the window?" Jaehyun asks.
"What girl?"
"I heard you fucking bro. There was some girl moaning and you were banging on the wall. My girl has been awake for hours trying to sleep because of you," Jaehyun explains, running a tired hand down his face.
Haechan flushes bright red, he looks a little embarrassed, "So I was up gaming, but you guys get mad when I yell so I started playing porn really loud so you guys might understand more."
Jaehyun deadpans, "for four hours? Your ass can't hang that long. What the hell was the bumping into the wall?"
"Some fucking noob on my own team killed me," Haechan rolls his yes, "And yes I can hang. Ask your mom."
Jaehyun shoots him a look, crossing his arms across his chest, almost asking Haechan to keep talking about his mom.
"Sorry, I mean ask your girl. Night bro, tell our girl sorry. I'll make it up to her later," Haechan adds before quickly closing and locking his door. This fucking kid.
Jaehyun shuffles back to his room, tired and cold. He steps back into the room, confused when he hears whale noises before remembering his new white noise machine.
He pulls the covers back only to find you sprawled out across the mattress with a few inches of space left for him. He can't even resist the affectionate chuckle that escapes him. He slips into bed and you immediately turn into him unconsciously, cuddling him in your sleep.
He doesn't think he's ever going to love anyone as much as he loves you.
-
a/n: while I have you here, please check out this post and let me know your thoughts, thankssss🫶🏼
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berrychocolatey · 10 months
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can you please write a smut with Miguel and reader but lyla ends up interrupting
i love your writing 💋 tyy
Caught
🕸️Summary: Lyla is a cockblocker.
🕸️Warnings: P in V, dirty talk, etc.
🕸️a/n: Thanks for the request! I had to push through and write because I've been procrastinating so much 😭. I also just got a little summer job so I crash and watch black mirror as soon as I get home lmao. But this is a good request, thank you :)
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Miguel groaned as he bottomed out into your soft, wet cunt. You groaned, his pace becoming entirely too agonizing for your liking. 
“Mphhh…please baby, go faster” you moaned, tugging on his hair. Sex with Miguel was alway unpredictable for you. You would like to say that he fucked rough all the time, but then there were also a lot of times like these where he would take his sweet time with you. Of course you didn't mind this, you relished the way his cock felt slowly gliding against your walls, and the way his head was in the crook of your neck, groaning and whimpering at the feeling of you. But you had come back from a rough day at your job, your coworkers seemed to piss you off with every breath they took, so the last thing you wanted was slow sex. 
Lifted Miguels head from between your breasts, looking him in the eye and locking lips before whispering a soft plead again, hoping this would be his last que before finally fucking you the way you wanted him to.
He kissed your cheek, nodding in agreement before pushing himself up so he had a hold of your thighs. 
“You want me to fuck you? Hm?” He groaned at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, pushing your thighs up to your chest. Miguel's pace quickened, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. This was exactly what you wanted. Your mouth dropped open in an “o” shape, his dick making you fucking speechless. Your eyes started to flutter shut until you felt a light tap on your cheek. 
“Nuh uh,” he panted, “You wanted me to fuck you?” he asked. You hastily nodded your head. “Then fucking look at me when i do it.” He wrapped his big hand around your neck, pulling it up towards him and applying the slightest amount of pressure. 
“Oh fuck, yes!! M Gonna cum Miguel , please!” His pace became relentless. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass mixed with the squelching sounds your cunt was making drove you crazy. You didn't know if you could last any longer. You felt your stomach start to coil, grabbing onto Miguel's biceps for leverage. 
“Yeah?” he moaned. “Right here hermosa?’’ 
“Y-yes!”
He smirked, biting down on his bottom lip, “Fuckin cum for me baby, want you to squeeze me so fu-”
The both of you were cut off by the bright light that came from your night stand. Miguel quickly took his hand off of your throat, “no. no this can't be happening.” he groaned. 
“What? What's wrong?” You were still catching your breath and clenching around his cock. 
You were about to ask him again when a miniature human holograph appeared in front of the two of you. 
You yelped, quickly pushing Miguel away from you and pulling the sheets over you. “What the hell Lyla?? Are you serious?” 
Lyla looked at the two of your sheet covered bodies, “Oh gosh! Am I interrupting you two?” she asked
Miguel ran a hand through his hair, “What does it look like, Lyla? I thought I explicitly told you no work calls on Sunday nights!” 
“No, you didn't. I actually told you to turn off your watch if you can't take any work calls and then you mumbled something about Sundays that was completely irrelevant.” Lyla crossed her arms. 
You threw your head back groaning. Of course he forgot to turn his damn watch off. “Seriously, Miggy?” You shook your head, “He's so sorry Lyla, he’ll turn it off next time. Isn't that right Miguel?” You nudged his arm.
“Yeah, I will okay? You can go now Lyla.”
She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, scoffing at his forgetfulness. “Okay well, I’ll leave you guys to it!” And she was gone in a blink. 
Miguel flopped down on the bed next to you, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned on his side to face you before planting kisses on your face, “Lo siento, mami. You wanna keep going?” he asked. You scoffed, looking him in the eyes. He couldn't be serious. 
“Miguel,” you sighed, “Having Lyla just pop up right before I was about to come makes me wanna rip my brains out.” You pulled the cover over your head, letting out a loud groan. “Lets just go to bed, Miggy” 
Expecting Miguel to comply, you faced away from him getting ready to shut your eyes when you felt his chest shaking. Was he laughing? You quickly sat up and looked down at him, he had his hands covering his face, his broad chest moving and you could see the smile from behind his hands. 
“Are you seriously laughing right now?!” You grabbed your pillow and chucked it at him. He burst out laughing, his eyes starting to water as he rested a hand on his abdomen. His fangs were showing now, and as pissed off as you were, your body could help but catch the contagious effect that his radiant smile had. You chuckled, shaking your head. 
“Baby i'm serious, I’m not getting turned on after basically flashing Lyla!” 
His amusement slowly died down, he wiped the corner of his eyes before apologizing and reaching to turn off the bedside lamp. He grabbed you by the waist and held you close, inhaling your sweet and comforting scent. 
You closed your eyes, getting lost in the warmth of his arms, but not before tilting your head back to face him, “And you better have turned off your watch Miggy”.
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wonustars · 4 months
Text
𝘋𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 ? (Teaser)
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𖦹 pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader 𖦹 wordcount: 15k+ (this teaser: 643 words)
𖦹 genre: enemies to roommates to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni 18+) (none in this teaser though)
𖦹 summary: your first day at your new university you spill coffee on an unsympathetic asshole. unfortunately for you that unsympathetic asshole becomes your roommate. 𖦹 in other words: you and jeonghan get off on the wrong foot, but through forced proximity and a snow day in due to a storm, you learn that your roommate is more than just the campus playboy.
𖦹 tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, e2l!jeonghanxreader, campusplayboy!jeonghan, roommate!jeonghan, afab!reader, bestfriend!booseoksoon, joshua is jeonghan's accomplice in everything, reader is the only one who knows how to cook, jeonghan is king of the sassy man apocolypse. (more will be added in the full fic) 𖦹 smut tags/warnings will be added in the full post.
𖦹 taglist form. you can also comment or send an ask but the form is preffered! :) thank u
𖦹 note: this jeonghan fic idea has been cooking in my head for a longgggg while now. idk when it'll be out but cosidering i'll have more down time, i'd say by the end of this month? but it really depends so sorry in advance if i take longer than that lol. i've also decided to make a google form for anyone who wants to be added to the tag list (you must be 18+ though, and i will check if your age is in your bio), as well as a permanent one if you'd like! anyways see you all soon! mwah - anna.
Read More Here.
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You hate Yoon Jeonghan. The moment you met him, you hated him.
It had taken you about ten seconds to get on his bad side. All it took was a cup of iced coffee and a random bump in the sidewalk. In the blink of an eye, your freshly made latte had become a wet coffee-coloured stain on Jeonghan’s bright white shirt. Mortified, you apologized profusely, not knowing what else to do.
Everything happened so fast, that you didn’t even realize you were tripping and then spilling your drink onto him. 
“What the fuck is your problem?” He spits at you, his eyes cold as ice. 
Your cheeks heat up fast, and you’re stuttering your words all over the place. To say the least, you felt bad, you haven’t even been here for more than 24 hours and you were already fucking up badly. Just a few hours ago you were ready to start fresh, starting a new semester at the University you transferred to from your hometown. 
Looking back up at the man who was currently staring you down, you begin to take napkins out of your bag to wipe his shirt. A yelp escapes your lips once you feel him slap your hand away from his chest. 
“I said what the fuck is your problem?” He repeats himself, the fire in his eyes flaming against the light of the afternoon sun. 
“I’m sorry, I tripped and-” You begin to explain yourself but he cuts you off, not wanting to hear your sorry excuse of an explanation. 
“I don’t care that you tripped, you spilt your drink on me.” He seethes, clenching his jaw as he talks. 
Now you’re equally as pissed as him, you stare at him for a second trying to see if he’s joking because he couldn’t be serious right now. Quickly, you realize that he is indeed not joking, if anything he’s more serious than you were when you told your parents you were moving away. 
“I’m sorry I spilt my drink but it was an honest mistake. It’s a stain, you can wash your shirt.” You scoff at him, unbelievable, you thought. As you roll your eyes, you watch him get red in the face with anger. 
Jeonghan is a lot more frustrated now that you’re giving him attitude, after the fact that you were the one to stain his clothes.  His fists begin to ball at his sides, who does this girl think she is, he asks himself.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You can’t just talk to me that way.” It was his turn to scoff at you, this petty fight between the two of you not going anywhere. 
You look him up and down, you could take him in a fight if it came down to it, or at least that's what you like to tell yourself. His body is a lot on the slimmer side, his looks seem to be his only redeeming quality. Long-haired, with long eyelashes, he was a pretty boy, you’ll admit that much. Yet his personality is not in harmony with his looks, and you found it to be quite surprising. How can someone so good-looking be so spiteful? 
“Too bad, I’ve already apologized and tried to make up for my actions. Didn’t Mommy tell you life isn’t always fair?” You mockingly pout up at him as he towers over you. Before Jeonghan could come up with a rebuttal, you walk past him, purposefully knocking your shoulder with his.
“Hey! I wasn’t done with you! You’ll regret this day!” He shouts at your figure as you walk away from the scene. As you walk away you pray to the gods that this is the last you’ll see of the long-haired pretty boy. 
Little did you know, your prayers had done the opposite of what you asked.
© wonustars
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𝄒𓏲࣪ . ⩇⩇ 𝄒 𖥻 a/n: my bad all, ik it's another uni au please dont hate me T-T. i promise i'll do something different next time BUTTTT i'm literally only about 1.5k words in but i'm already excited to share it with you all! please look forward to it :)))
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beanthesprout · 9 months
Text
Needy
Sub!Bucky Barnes x fem reader
Summary: Seeing you in that sexy dress at Tony's party simultaneously made it more enjoyable and utterly unbearable.
Warnings: fingering, riding, praise kink, a tad of degradation mixed in there, little bit of fluff at the very end
Bucky was listening to Steve talk to one of Tony's business associates when you walked in. His eyes had been on the entrance he knew you'd come in through since he arrived, and when he saw Nat come in he knew you weren't too far behind.
You hated these parties just as much as he did, but Nat and Wanda adored having an opportunity to dress you up and make you feel hot. Eyes were always on the three of you at these things.
He knew you were going to look good. Scratch that. He knew you were going to look great. However, he wasn't expecting you to come in wearing that sleek black dress with the neckline that plunged so deep it made your tits look fucking amazing. And he certainly wasn't expecting to see the sweet skin of your thigh peeking out from the slit in the dress that ended just under your panty line. And he wasn't expecting the elegant hairdo that allowed a few stray locks to temptingly brush against your neck and shoulder.
The moment Bucky saw you he knew he was absolutely fucked. He felt himself swallow as he watched you make your way towards him with the other two girls. His grip on his glass tightened as he saw a sweet smile spread across your features when you looked at him.
He couldn't decide if he wanted you on your knees in front of him with his cock in your mouth or if he wanted you on top of him as he desperately fucked up into you. All he knew was that one way or another he wanted his dick inside of you.
Your hands came to wrap around his arm when you got to his side, greeting Steve with a warm smile. Bucky didn't even notice Nat and Wanda sharing a knowing look as he was too busy staring at you, lips parted in awe.
You looked up at him and said something. Bucky blinked, processing that you'd said something.
"What?"
"I asked how you were." You tilted your head slightly, a habit he found adorable.
"Fine." He said quickly.
You raised a brow.
"I'm fine." He reassured you.
Your eyes searched his for a moment before nodding, head turning back to engage in whatever conversation Nat and Wanda were having with Steve and that other man.
Minutes seemed to pass by like hours and hours seemed to pass like days as Bucky frustratedly waited for this stupid party to be over. He wasn't sure if this was his own personal heaven, being able to see you like this, or if it was his own personal hell considering he couldn't do anything about it.
The entire night his gaze was on you, his friends quickly giving up on trying to include him in the conversation. Bucky didn't even notice the people cycling past. All he could focus on was your hands on his arm, the way your chest moved as you laughed, and the way your hair brushed against the skin he so desperately wanted to kiss.
The party's end couldn't come soon enough. Once you'd deemed that it was a polite time to leave, you bid your friends a goodnight and led Bucky out of the ballroom and up to his room. The moment you were in the elevator Bucky had you up against the wall.
One hand on your ass and the other on your waist as his mouth hungrily sucked bruises into your neck, a thigh had pushed its way between your legs and was pressed against your cunt. You gasped when Bucky bit down on that sensitive spot on your neck, and you began to grind against his thigh.
All too soon the elevator doors opened to your floor, Bucky pulled back and grabbed your hand, dragging you to his room. As soon as the door shut you were pressed against it, Buckys mouth now on the parts of your boobs that were shown by the dress.
You moaned as he sucked harshly on your skin.
"I've never seen you this desperate before, Buck."
"Need you. Need you so bad." He groaned as your hands came to gently tug at his hair.
"Then let me take care of you baby." You murmured, gently pushing him off and to the edge of his bed.
"Strip." You ordered. And Bucky couldn't move fast enough, desperately sloughing off his clothes so that he was left naked before you, dick standing at attention.
"Sit."
Bucky quickly sat on his bed, eyes glued to you.
Slowly you began to remove your dress, pulling down the straps on your shoulders before allowing the whole thing to fall at your feet. You stood in front of Bucky in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties. You watched as his jaw clenched and his hands gripped the edge of the bed. You slowly removed your panties and dropped them on the floor, his eyes watching every movement.
You moved towards him, straddling his thighs. Your hands glided up his chest to his shoulders as you leaned in and kissed him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth.
You pulled back after a moment.
"Finger me Buck. Prep me for that beautiful fat cock of yours." You whispered.
Bucky swallowed, lifting his metal hand from where it rested on your thigh to slip into your wet heat. You groaned as he did, the cold metal a pleasant sensation. He pumped his finger in you, swiftly adding another and he began to scissor you, stretching you out. You moaned as he did, his thick fingers feeling so good against the walls of you cunt.
But it would be nothing compared to the stretch and drag of his dick.
Soon enough, Bucky deemed you ready to take him. He pulled his fingers out of you and shoved them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.
"You ready Bucky?"
"Yes. Please."
You pressed a kiss to his lips before lining yourself up and slowly sinking down on him. Bucky let out a groan, hands gripping your waist. You were sure there would be bruises tomorrow, but you certainly didn't mind.
You sunk all the way down, bottoming out. You nipped at Buckys jaw as he panted slightly, the feeling of you around him like this always left him breathless.
"I'm gonna fuck you stupid James." You murmured before rising up and swiftly dropping yourself back down onto his cock, drawing out a moan from him.
And fuck him stupid you did, you rode him fast and hard. You watched as he tossed his head back, entirely focused on the feeling of you riding him mercilessly.
"Such a slut for me aren't you James? You're just desperate to have your cock stuffed inside of me baby."
Bucky moaned an agreement as his hips started to thrust up into you.
"Such a good boy letting me fuck you like this baby," You moaned as his dick hit that sweet spot, "Such a good boy."
Buckys cock dragged against your walls, your pussy eagerly clenching around him.
It didn't take long for Bucky to reach his climax. The combination of your sweet praises and your pussy deliciously choking his cock had him feeling like he was in heaven. His thrusts up into you began to grow sloppy before he released inside of you. You kept riding him until tears pricked his eyes with overstimulation.
"Too much doll. Too much." He whimpered.
"Be a good little slut and let me finish." You groaned out, desperately fucking yourself on him. His face came forward to hide in your neck, mouthing at your skin as he moaned and whimpered.
Finally, you came. Your own cum dripping out along with his as you pulled up off of him. His arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you.
"So beautiful." He murmured.
You chuckled, "You like the dress that much huh?"
"Mhm."
"I'll keep that in mind love."
After a few minutes Bucky laid you down on the bed and went to retrieve a cloth to clean you up and start a bath for you two to sit in together.
That night you cuddled up into his chest, draped in one of his shirts. He held you tight and pressed a kiss to your forehead before falling asleep.
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simpjaes · 5 months
Note
i try to not indulge in the idea of stepcest cause it feels so wrong but i need to admit to someone that it’s just so…mmmm. it’s a guilty pleasure soooo let me send this ask before u go crazy heehee
stepbro jay would be one of those guys whose so respectful and nice to everyone but really he’s the worst. during your first family dinner after you and your mom move in with him and his dad, he sits right next to you and keeps his hand on your thighs while laughing with his dad and your mom. later on in the night he comes to your room pretending he wants to talk to you but he actually has you face down ass up, with your face shoved in a pillow so your moans and screams are muffled. he’s so arrogant and mean to you because you’re just an easy access fucktoy for him 🤭
sorry this is being answered so late! anyway, i get that you feel like it's wrong but here on this blog, we support fiction being like, yknow, not fuckin' real.
wc: 1.6k
note: jay and reader are in college living with their good ol' very in love parents. warnings: stepcest, jay is kinda rough lol, use of the word slut
step bro jay appearing like the perfect son and the perfect brother for you?? Your mom always thought you needed some type of male energy in your life that didn't involve boyfriends or her failed boyfriends, and she was really happy to learn how much he enjoyed being around when she and jay's dad eventually got serious and wanted to settle down.
it was a win/win. Your mother no longer needed to overwork herself to take care of herself and you, and you now had someone to lean on too.
And lean on him you did.
What your mother didn't know was the instant attraction you had to Jay. You're a young woman after all, freshly twenty two and so fucking ready to mingle since your last boyfriend was an awful lay. God, if only you had met Jay before your mom fucked his dad. like, for real.
And what Jay's dad didn't know is that he raised an absolute slut. Jay knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he would be encouraging his father to keep it up with your mom. Why? So he can be around you, of course, so he can see if you'd be willing to let him play with you a little bit.
Now though? he's learned that you're moving in alongside your mother and he didn't protest for even a moment. Hell, he practically moved you into your new room himself, trying to officially get on your good side since by this time, the two of you have only gotten to hang out five or six times, and never alone.
~
The first time Jay cornered you was a little surprising, as you thought you were the only one with a sneaky little crush on him. You remember it like it was yesterday (because it was like the same night you moved in).
He was moving the last box into your room as you sat on your floor organizing a small box of knick knacks. Your mother was outside with his father attempting to move in a large vanity that both you and Jay knew would take some time without their help.
"You seemed excited when they told us you were moving in--" Jay starts, sitting down the box and standing in front of you, looking down at you until you make eye contact. "Why?"
You shrug, blinking up and tilting your head.
"It's just nice to see her happy, I guess?" You offer.
"Bullshit, I've seen you checking me out." He says snidely, crouching down to your level and swiveling his head a bit to get a real good look at your face.
Before you can deny it, he smiles and continues.
"You know, I'm kinda into it."
And then he walked out, leaving you there with a crush that grew just a bit more.
The second time he cornered you was after a shower, shortly before one of your classes started. He stepped out of his room the same time you stepped out with dampened skin sticking to your t-shirt. No pants, no bra, just the shirt and panties.
You really should have considered that you live in a house with men now. It doesn't matter how early in the morning it is, anyone could be awake. And of course, Jay was awake.
He stopped in his tracks to check out your legs. Entirely blatant about it before walking up to you. You stumbled back a step, straight into the bathroom as he continued to walk closer and closer. Up until you were against the counter, he was smiling, and then brushed his hand by your waist to grab his toothbrush behind you with a small and cocky whisper of "god, you looked so ready for me to do something else, didn't realize you were that desperate."
So, that was something that stuck in your brain for like, way too long.
The third time was when he did do something else. Your mother was at work, his father too, and you had just gotten home from class. Normally, you've learned that Jay takes classes much later than you do, but he was home today.
God, he was definitely home.
With his hand down his pants.
On your bed.
And, well, you can argue that's probably the moment your crush on him crossed a boundary that would never be spoken of. Because what you did was blasphemous. Your parents should have known not to move in together with two horny college students in tow. Honestly.
You still remember the way his hands felt up your shirt, offering him a bit more than just his imagination there on your bed. He touched you a lot that day, and in turn you touched yourself twice as more on his bed just a day later.
So, that leads to tonight's dinner. Again, the first real dinner you've gotten to have as a "family" and all you can think about is the way your mom dotes on Jay for being such a good, protective brother. And how his father dotes on you, for being such a good influence on his son....despite his son's hand squeezing your thigh as he accepts the compliments and dotes on them right back.
"Thanks for making my dad happy again." "Thank you for always cooking the best meals." "Thank you for making the house look like a home."
God, you roll your eyes at him, really. Because you've already grown accustomed to the dirty, fucked up things he says to you when the two of you are alone. That hand on your leg further proves that he's full of shit and he knows you love it.
The worst part is that you do. Despite telling him that night you let him touch you that it would never happen again. Despite him not knowing that you have had at least three orgasms against the very pillow he lays his head on at night.
Anyway, it's wrong. And you continue to brood over the fact that you genuinely can't let yourself be weak again around him. No matter how much you want him, no matter how much he appears to want you.
He knows you set a boundary last time, and since then he hasn't approached you again until now, with his hand squeezing up your thigh until you jolt under the touch and alert your mother.
You dodged her questions, swiped his hand away, and finished your meal as quietly as you could before immediately heading back to your room.
"What's up with her?" Jay's father asks, looking at your mother.
"I'm not sure..."
Jay stands up, smiling genuinely and innocently at both of them.
"I'll go talk to her. She mentioned something about a fight with one of her friends the other day. She's probably upset about it or something"
The parents beam at him, despite his blatant lie as he makes his way to your room.
And, well, you're bad at keeping your own boundaries apparently because the second he walked into your room was the second you fell apart. As if his hand on your leg didn't already have you crumbling.
"You're too obvious." He scolded. "I just touched your leg, relax. At least let me get something out of this if you're not gonna put out for me after all that from before." He continued.
You just sat there staring at his angry whispered words.
"Jay--" You started in a half moan, but he continued.
"What's so bad about wanting to fuck anyway? You're right here, and you want it. I mean, look at you." he waves his hands at your body, and the way your fingers are clearly inside of yourself. "Me touching your leg has you up here trying to reach places that only i'd be able to reach."
"Then do it--" You cut yourself off this time, moving your fingers and scissoring them open in hopes that he would really give it to you despite your protests from the last time.
He's so fast with it too, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down the bed before shoving you to roll over. There, you immediately arch your back and perk your ass up at him. He shakes his head in pity, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he likes it. He probably loves when girls do this for him. And he reacts even more to it by pulling the loose shorts down your thighs, and then spreading your legs.
"Fuck, I knew you'd let me." He praises himself more than you. "Put your fingers back in, let me see what you what you were doing up here all by yourself."
You found yourself listening instantly, sliding in two fingers and hiding your face in your pillow. This only pushes him further, glancing up at the way you hide from the act, then licking his own fingers and sliding them in along side your own.
"What would your mom say?" He laughs, lifting himself now and placing his hand on the back of your head. "Hm? Do you think she'd be interested to find out how much of a slut her daughter is?"
All you can do is nod brokenly against the harsh feeling of his palm against your head, and the way he slides his fingers into you, forcing pressure on your own.
"You're gonna take it, right?" He continues, watching those broken nods continue before he's pulling his fingers out of you, pushing your face further into those pillow, and shoving his pants down just enough to get his cock out.
"Yeah, fuck, look at it. You want it so bad." He seethes out through gritted teeth, staring at the way your needy cunt clenches around your fingers in reaction to the loss of his. Then he's slapping your wrist to remove your fingers and immediately pushing into you. Giving you exactly what you want, and all of that.
He's such a good brother, for real.
There, he doesn't relent or let you breathe even for a moment. All you can hear is ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting out words of, "god, you're so fucking tight." and "dripping all over me, you really thought I'd stay away?" and "yeah, fuck, just take it."
And you do. You take it. Biting into the pillow through the pleasure and immense guilt of loving the way your strep brother's cock pulses inside of you. Loving the way he fucks hard and fast. Loving that he slides in deep every fucking time.
So much for talking.
Then again, you clearly weren't in the mood to talk anyway.
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luveline · 2 years
Note
I’m begging for more Golden Retriever Girlfriend with either Steve or Eddie- scraped knees? Doesn’t even notice, just too excited to tell their boyfriend about the butterfly they saw on their way over to see them…
I chose Eddie again cos I like him ♡ gn!reader | 1k words
The walk to Eddie's house is long but not boring. The trailer homes are dispersed over long stretches of green grass, so sometimes you see bugs. Mostly caterpillars, sometimes spiders, snails and slugs, ants, crickets if you're quiet enough. 
Today, two butterflies. They swing through the air beautifully as if orbiting the other, pure white with wings as unremarkable and delicate as tulip petals. 
They're distracting. You follow them for a short while until they fly too far to see and hurry the rest of the way to Eddie's home, rushing on toes up the steps into his trailer. 
"Eddie?" you ask into the empty living room. 
The bathroom door opens but he doesn't emerge. "In here." 
You stride over and peer inside. He's spitting toothpaste foam down the sink, his hair in a tie, his eyes still droopy with fatigue. 
"You get up way too early, you know that? I don't know how you can already have walked here when I got up five minutes ago."
"The weather's great," you say easily, pushing into the small bathroom though you shouldn't to wipe sleep from the corners of his eyes. 
He bats your hand away. "Stop." 
You stop and frown for the five seconds that you feel scolded until he grabs your fingers to give you a quick reassuring squeeze.
He drops your hand in favour of washing his face, cupping hot water in his hands to scrub at his nose roughly. You ramble mildly about the journey here.
"They were dancing, Eddie. I've never seen anything like it. They were really pretty..." you detail, distracted by his face, his lashes heavy with wetness.
He dries off with a towel. You reach around to the back of his head to pull his hair tie free and he sets his hands over your waist, a casual proximity as you run your hands through his curls. You're careful. You know how prone to tangles he is. 
"I can feel you looking at my face," you say, trying not to breathe too heavily. 
"Sure am, sweetheart." 
You feel as radiant as a marigold under his appreciative gaze. "There. Perfect again," you mumble.
"Thanks."
You nod and move out of his reach, back into the cooler space of his living room. You do a little spin as you go, an unbearable amount of happiness in your chest as you pose in front of the couch, one hand at your hip and the other pointing at your still-tired boyfriend where he follows you. 
"We have the whole day! What are we gonna do first?" you ask. 
"Baby, what the fuck have you done?" 
The smile slips off your face. He sounds mad enough to startle you and you drop your hands. "What?" you ask weakly. 
His eyes flit from your face to your knees and he gestures to them. He looks wide awake. "You're bleeding. Sit down." When you don't move he takes your shoulders into stern hands and guides you backward. "Sit down! Jesus, sit." 
You drop onto the couch and look down at your knees, surprised to see them all bloody and scratched. When you'd slipped on leaf litter walking down the main road into the park you'd assumed everything was fine despite the stinging pain, and by the time you'd seen the butterflies you'd forgotten altogether. 
"When did you do that?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me?" 
"I forgot," you say, eyes blinking owlishly at his fierce expression. 
Eddie spins on his heel to dig through a kitchen cabinet for his first aid kit, popping it open by the sink. "Piece of shit kit," he mutters, piling foil wrapped bandages into his hand. 
He looks less formidable as he kneels on the floor between your knees, thumb probing the edge of your grazes one then the other, very gentle.
"You didn't tell me what happened," he says quietly, eyes on your knees as he sprays a small bottle of disinfectant over your knees with no warning and you flinch. 
"Shit, I'm sorry," he says. 
You blink back tears. "Stings," you say, giggling wetly.
He wipes your grazes with precise, almost calculated movements. One hurts worse than the other. "Sorry," he says again as he drops the bloodied wipes to the floor and rips a sterile packing open with his teeth – which is all types of wrong – and unrolls a length of white bandages. 
"Hold the gauze, honey," he says. 
You move your hands as he instructs, wondering if he's ever called you honey before. You're still deciding by the time he finishes, his hands in twin position just below your knees. 
You brush your bandages together and smile. "They're white. Like the butterflies." 
"Is that why you fell? Watching the butterflies?" he asks, sounding curious. 
You laugh and weave your fingers into the soft hair at the back of his neck, dropping your face down. "I'm not that stupid. It was all the fallen leaves by the turning." 
He smiles and clasps your wrists. "You're not stupid at all."
He doesn't give you time to argue as he stands and cleans the small mess he'd made fixing your bloody knees. You stand too, always trying to follow him despite limited places to go. Eddie's more than used to it by now. 
"For future reference," he says, a certain roughness to his tone. "Don't wait ten minutes to tell me the next time you split your knees." 
"Sorry." 
He throws an arm over your shoulder and tugs you into his side, giving you a good shake. "Stop. I'm serious, stop. Be sorry about how you've been here twenty minutes and haven't asked for a kiss yet." 
"I wanted to, but you got all scary about my legs!" 
"I can be scarier." 
"No you can't."
"No, I can't." 
You share what feels like an especially private smile despite being on your own and drop your head into his shoulder. He rests his cheek atop your crown.  
"You had blood down to your ankle," he murmurs. "You scared me." 
"Can I have a kiss now?" you ask. 
"You'll have to let me think about it," he bluffs, already leaning in. 
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