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#after a particularly hard thrus-
andy-clutterbuck · 1 month
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The Ones Who Live | 1x03 - Bye
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roxy-writes · 10 months
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author’s note: HELP HALFWAY THRU WRITING THIS I ACCIDENTALLY CLOSED THE TAB AND LOST ALL MY WORK😭😭😭😭😭😭
tags: not proofread, nsfw, riding, creampie
after a hard day’s work, all simon “ghost” riley wants to do is take out all his anger out on your pretty, plush lil cunt. he’s so pent up, and you’re the perfect stress relief. he pounces as soon as he sees you, in cute lounge clothes, tempting him just by sitting on the couch. his hands travel down your body to your inner thighs, eyes trained on your face to see how you react when his fingers move from your inner thighs to your core.
before you know it, your clothes are ripped off and he’s down on his knees in front of you. he buries his face in your pussy, mumbling about how sweet you taste. his eager tongue laps and fucks your pussy, and you moan when he delivers a particularly hard suck to your clit. he slips a thick finger inside of you and curls it, tongue still working on you.
he adds another finger and another, fucking your pussy with three digits as his cock twitches and throbs in his pants. he waits to fuck you until you’re cumming on his hand and begging for his dick. he undoes his belt and unzips his pants, sitting on the couch and placing you on his lap. he taps the head of his cock against your clit to watch you twitch. he guides his cock to your clenching hole and pushes in deliciously slow.
he bucks his hips up while simultaneously slamming you down on him, hands planted on your waist. he’s already doing such a good job, and you know he’d love to hear it, so whenever you’re not too cockdrunk to form words you make sure to praise him. he’s fucking you like you’re just a toy for him to use, and you love it. you feel so good you’re practically tearing up. you can tell he’s feeling good too from how hard he’s twitching inside you.
you feel your stomach tightening up as he begins fucking you harder. you’re gripping onto his shoulders for dear life as you cum, eliciting a groan from ghost. he begins chasing his own orgasm now, pleasure beginning to overwhelm him. you’re desperate to be filled, grinding down on him even as the overstimulation gets to you. finally, he releases inside you, moaning out your name. you whimper as you feel him fill you, fingers gripping his broad shoulders hard. he pulls his softening cock out of your tight hole with a pop, watching your face scrunch up.
you think he’s done with you until you feel two fingers press against your entrance and push in. “gotta make sure it all stays in, love.” he mutters, voice gritty from exhaustion. “mhm, there you go, doll. full of my cum, just like you fuckin’ belong.”
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satoruhour · 7 months
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*runs in*
colllege athlete!au where jjk men see you in their varsity jacket and just goes batshit crazy. They defo win the game afterwards and fuck you in it, best orgasm of your life.
*runs out*
❄️
a/n: MY LORD .......................... YOU JUST UNLOCKED SUM IN ME ICY !!!!! discussions of p -> v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, oral f! receiving, name calling, semi-public sex, long LONG post
gojo would def be the one to suggest it at first. hes even offering to buy two jackets just for you but then youre like “but i dont want you to waste money satoru... plus i want it to smell like you..!” omg that makes gojo cum on the spot lmfao. but is mostly caught off guard when you first wear it - it happens when its the half time of the game and his team is not doing particularly well bc he made u a little upset the night before and he felt bad :( youve been on his mind for the whole game and hes so distracted poor boy. but u also think you were being a little childish in how you reacted, so youre stealing his varsity jacket way earlier than he leaves and hes so confused when that morning he cant find it. shows up to the game in another jacket and got an earful from his coach that no one really likes, and bc theyre doing so badly, at half time the coach didnt want to meet with them for pep talk either. boo fuck the coach but anyway, youre rushing down to the lockets and whatnot in his jacket. feels like straight out of a movie dude omg. that troy and gabriella shit bc gojo is dragged outside and is hugging you close and muttering apologies into your neck, kissing u all over sigh. its gotten him a big boost of adrenaline tho! and as the star player of his team a lot of his teammates feed off of his energy. gojo is the last to leave the locker room, wanting to have a little more time with you. he twirls you around and admires you in his large jacket and makes out with you until he hears the buzzer from outside LOL. gives u a deep kiss, “ill win and fuck you good later, alright princess?” “go get ’em, satoru. i’ll be here always.”
yeah he def fucked you good later on, making you strip out of everything but his jacket and pounded u nice and good in the locker room long after everyone left. made you ride him on the benches, ate you out as you sat on the benches and kept thanking u for being his lucky charm thru all his matches. the grip on your hips were so heavy they were pprobably bruised, and the clanking of the lockers were so noisy it was a wonder you two werent caught. “that’s right, baby— taking my cock like the good girl you are,” you’re pushed up against the university lockers and railed into from brhind, sticking his fingers into your mouth as he made u arch your back in that varsity jacket of his. ooh lord. brought you out on a winning date and fucked u in his car, fucked you back at his home all the while wearing his jacket !!!!!!!
/
geto has never thought of it personally, but he wonders about it one day, thinking bout you in it without anything and he gets hard as heeellllll. has been wantin to put you in it for the longest time but just didnt have the opportunity to - youre always prepared with a cardigan or jacket of your own or you simply just dont get cold much to suguru’s dismay. so when you’re shivering one day before a game (sometimes they would watch the match before to get a sense of the two teams, and also bc you wanted to travel light handed for the date geto was going to bring you to after), geto’s so so quick to offer up his varsity jacket before you can think of any counter to it. but what you dont tell him is that youve been “avoiding” in a way, just bc you know if u get access to his jacket he will never. get. it. back. you have a knack for stealing his clothes bc geto smells good good and youre addicted to his scent. but either way youre trying not to gasp at the largeness of the jacket ... 🙏 same girl. you’re slipping one arm and then the other, wrapped in the safeness of geto’s jacket and hes trying so hard to show u that he isnt shivering LMFOAOAAOAO thank god the match was ending already and his team was up next. gojo only nods towards you later in the locker room as you stay thru their coach’s talk, smiling sickly bc he just knew what his best friend was going to do afterwards.
soon enough he can hear the cheers of the spectators flood his ears but hes only focused on you running up to him from the bleachers and hugs you close in his sweaty body (which u protest against and laugh about), but hes whispering “you dont mind though, right baby?” yeah you DEF dont mind it when he pulls you into the janitor’s closet and his body is grinding against yours. “was so hard playing through the game, yknow how difficult that is?” you reply back with i cant imagine with a giggle and let him do whatever he wants to you: hes so impatient he cant pull his game pants down all the way and the same goes for you. both your bottoms are stuck atound your thighs, and youre trying to stay quiet in that squeezy closet. it’s hard. youre so wet you dont exactly need foreplay, just maybe some brief fingering which has you whining into his neck and he slips in after. fucks you until the pails and cleaning supplies are falling to the floor and youre hoping to take off the varsity jacket but he refrains you from it, loving the way ur white shirt is turning wet from all your sweat. it’s sloppy, disgusting, juices spurting everywhere and youre so tight from your pressed-together thighs. i guess he has no choice but to put you in a mating press too and he goes so deeeep in that position you moan out loud. “yeah— made to take my cock like a slut, ain’t ya? only natural when you’re lookin’ so good in my jacket.” getos gross and u love it.
/
nanami fits better as an alumni whos come back for a friendly current students vs alumni match. hes entering the gym with haibara and his two annoying seniors gojo and geto and while they talk a lot of crap theyre great players. nanami comes up to greet you since youre still their manager and hes one year above you. dating across years is a little difficult esp with how nanami was in his last year of uni, and now that hes looking for work while u finish your last year .... it’s hectic thats for sure, but u guys make it work perfectly fine bc nanami prioritises you a lot!! but late youve been busy with midterms and him with settling in with his new job that he almost forgot about today’s match. is met with nostalgia the first time he steps intothe gym again but he never expected you to wear the varsity jacket that’s stuffed deep into your closet. frankly it doesnt fit him at all any mroe but you thought it to be fitting to wear it in this once in a lifetime match (bc hes just so busy!!!! to book a date w/ nanami is like going to the army dawg). nanami’s jaw drops when u first step foot into the gym and oh my god youre going to be the umpire too? he is going to become too distracted, instantly taken back to the many many times hes gotten you trapped in the gym bathroom with his cock in your mouth, or the time you ride him in the empty gym in the corner (it was late at night!!!!), or also the time right after his loss where he took all his anger and frustration out on you, jersey between his teeth as he uses you. something switched in nanami that day when u expressed how much u liked the roughness tee hee. surprisingly hes even more focused, in a way of proving something to himself bc he can probably count on everyone’s hands the number of times hes missed a cue from a teammate before when he was still in school just cause u were wearing his jacket 😭😭😭 man you dont even need to be in the jacket! thats how obsessed he is with u!!!
shoots you a small smile after each point and is trying to hard not to run to you to get a good job kiss. also finds the fact that youre judging appropriately and not showing biasness just cause nanami’s on one team really really hot! the way you call the shots, give the accurate penalties and that booming voice of yours echoing thru out the gym ..... youre so good at being umpire that even the juniors cant deny they lost fair and square and not just cause youre nanami’s girl. altho bc you two are so good at hiding they dont rlly suspect anything until hes kissing you - something that even he isnt that comfy with but he just needed to show off !!!!! that isnt the case when later he has you back in the gym, reminiscent of that one time!!! but nanami found it so hot, hes backing you back up into the quiet gym, illuminated by the moonlight. its way late after dinner and the uni students have gone back to their dorm already while the alumni has departed for their homes and its just you. thank god the gym is also located in a place that is a little secluded and disconnected from the campus so it isnt long before youre both making out against the walls of the gym, moans and sounds echoing in the large hall. “just like old times?” “yeah. except ill be taking my time with you” yeah, u take ur time indeed: the gargling of your mouth and groans of nanami is so disgustingly filthy, slobbering all over his dick and he also eats you out on the floor. when he stretches u out with his fingers you can hear yourself bc youre so wet that you drip to the floor. but none of u give a shit when you settle atop nanami and start riding him needily, bouncing and moaning out his name. the way the sounds of your slapping skin makes it way back to is gross!!!! but so hot!!!! its so lewd !!! you get tired soon enough and nanami thrusts up into you with whispers of ur name in the gym. u do that hot thing where you pull up your shirt and pull down ur bra so your tits r spilling out .... OOOOOOHH it gets nanami cumming instantly, esp with the large frame of the varsity jacket on you that he cums more than usual <3333
/
toji, rather than a player, is a coach for the team. youre the manager whos helping with all the admin stuff and waterbottles/towels and with moral in the team - kind of like kiyoko and yachi in hq, but when u show up always no one knows whose varsity jacket youre wearing. they all speculate between themselves and have their thoughts but the team members never suspect that it’s their own coaches one. it looks too similar to the team’s with no name on the back, the sewing is exactly the same and the small logo of their team takes its place on the left breast as usual. but they never bother to check the inside where toji has made a large blotched ‘T’ on the label and your name squeezed in on the underside. toji loves to see it on you, esp in games and while hed love to see it on you outside of it he cant run the risk that he’s dating the manager. but he also especially loves it when you surprise him at home: wearing his jacket with nothing but your panties, prancing around and doing chores as he comes back from another gruelling match. ohhhh the things he’d do to you... but the best is when you do it in public. that changes the whole game
you’re helping with practice here and there, picking up the stray shuttlecocks/volleyballs/whatever sport around the gym as they practice their drills, but toji realises you dont reach over and bend like you usually do - normally youd do it when you know toji’s the only one to be standing behind you so he can see your panties under the short skirt but you dont do ANYTHING so he wonders if he did smtg wrong. but also you’re squatting down to pick up things? it’s only later when you saunter up to him as his team is distracted and you unzip the jacket just a little and he gets the glimpse of the lingerie set he bought you and very very riskily bringing his hand down to your centre where you’re bare. toji groans to himself when he feels that youre already so wet, playing with your folds just barely until his student calls out to him and youre both shocked out of your daze. “you’re in for it, doll.” takes u to the equipment room, and fucks right after dismissing the team. “doing this typa shit in front of the boys? dirty girl.” youre holding onto the shelves of the equipment and it’s rattling so much that things are tethering so close to the edge, it’s insanity. the sight of his cock disappearing into you while you wear that short skirt is just pure serotonin for him, plus your moans echo a lot throughout the room along with the slapping of ur skin. stuffs the collar of the varsity jacket into your mouth to keep you quiet as he cums in you <3333 “look at that...” sighs when he removes his cock from you and cum drips to the floor, “my pretty manager.”
OKAY BYE . I NEED TO BE SPAYED.
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jeysbvck · 19 days
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even if it's a false god (we'd still worship this love)
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a/n; ive been working on this for over a year, & after four rewrites, its finally here! thank you to @pedroassmanpascal for your help when i was conceiving this & working on it last year! this is my first time working in this genre, & it hasn't been beta read all the way thru, so please let me know what you think!
warnings; pov change, a butt load of angst, age gap (reader is in her thirties), violence, death/murder, near death experience, voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, male!recieving, female!recieving, penetrative sex (if ive missed any feel free to let me know!!)
taglist; @likedovesinthewnd @harmshake @nightmare-viper
word count; 7.3k
summary; Joel's been pretending you don't exist for weeks now, and you have no idea why. But when you get caught up in a life or death situation, confessions are made, lines are crossed, and your relationship is changed.
Every single part of Joel's body hurt, and he was exhausted. Joel was always exhausted, but this day had been particularly hard. Everything that he - and you had gone through had been for nothing. The supplies and weapons you had been looking for had been looted already. Only a few old, rusty tins of food covered in at least a years worth of dust had been left behind. Not to mention the constant hoards of infected you had to fight through. Now, it was a fight to get back to the QZ to make another plan that could end the exact same way. Yeah, he'd had plenty of bad days, but this one would sting for a while. The hope that had been reignited had gone out again. Now he was just tired.
No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't sleep. He was just lying on the hard floor -the fabric floor of the tent and his blanket doing nothing to help with the lumps under his back- with his eyes closed and ears alert. He knew how dangerous it could be, the horrors lurking in the woods, even when it was calm and quiet, and he hoped you had heeded his advice and were asleep with your gun.
But then he heard a whimper, and his eyes shot open as he stayed silent, his hand on his pistol. A barely heard whine, and he sighed with relief as he realised it was you. These past few weeks had been taxing - although the past twenty years hadn't exactly been a cake walk - and it dawned on him that you were probably crying. Joel had been so drained and tired during dinner that he selfishly hadn't noticed you were unusually quiet. He also didn't think about it when you retired to bed early. Joel tried to ignore the sounds, but he couldn't, he was just picturing you curled up in your tent, crying yourself to sleep, and the guilt of not noticing anything was wrong was gnawing at him. He groaned and slipped out of his tent, making his way to yours while putting the gun in the back of his jeans.
He quietly navigated the campsite and stopped outside your tent, unsure how to proceed. Did he knock on the fabric door, or did he call out your name? He wasn't good at this stuff, and he hadn't been for a long time, but he also knew that you needed someone; or, more specifically, you needed a friend. You were just that kind of person, even if the world had forced you to pretend you weren't. For a few seconds, he couldn't hear anything, but just as he was about to give up, he heard another noise, but this one sounded more like a moan. Then another one, louder now, and there was no mistaking it that time. Joel's body stiffened, and he started to get hot as his cock twitched at the thought of you getting yourself off, mere feet away from him. He heard your sleeping bag rustle slightly, and he bolted back to his tent, breathing heavily as he zipped the tent door.
He stared up at the roof of the tent, trying - but ultimately failing - not to think about what he'd just almost interrupted. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he had to unbutton them just for some relief. He tried to divert his thoughts, to think about anything else, but his mind took some winding paths just to get him back to thinking of you. Joel groaned. He needed a release, and it had been a long time since he'd done, well, anything. It wasn't going to hurt anyone, and you were doing it just mere feet away from him, so what was stopping him? They were all flimsy arguments. He knew that, but it was the easiest solution to the problem at hand.
Joel slipped a hand into his boxers, his cold touch sending goosebumps down his spine, the sensation making him harder. He began to stroke himself, and when he closed his eyes, he could see you writhing around in your tent, your fingers deep inside yourself. He could hear you from your tent still, your quiet whimpering and moaning sounding out through the stillness of the forest, and Joel caught his own moan in his throat as his movements got quicker. He couldn't bring himself to care about the possible dangers lurking, the grip he had his cock on tightening slightly as pictures of you clouded him. He imagined you being in here with him, imagined that you were both watching each other. It didn't take long for Joel to make himself orgasm, and he cleaned himself up, hoping sleep came to him before the guilt did.
-
Joel spent the next few days convinced he was going crazy. Every time you looked at him, he was sure you could see the guilt he was struggling to hide, like his memories would be projected for you to see. Every time you said his name, he was waiting for you to tell him you knew what he'd done, that you'd seen him outside your tent, and heard him in his. He felt so dirty, creepy, ashamed, and at some point, he shut down completely. He knew you were confused, you weren't as good at hiding your emotions as you thought, and you were confused by what you could've possibly done to warrant the cold shoulder from Joel, who could barely look at you, and it made him feel worse. He just didn't know what else to do, so he went back to what he knew best.
After traipsing through the woods for what felt like forever, Joel just wanted to set up camp and get through the night. He was tired, sore, hungry, and needed a moment away from you, without your sad eyes staring at him, without your attempts to get him to open up. So when you announced that you'd had enough and insisting that you stop for the night, Joel didn't argue. While Joel set up the tents, you gathered some wood from the perimeter of the "campsite", and Joel took a moment to watch on fondly, smiling to himself at the smug look of accomplishment on your face, taking the "win" against Joel.
Dinner was silent that night, as the past few had been, and while Joel refused to look up from his food, you were refusing to take your eyes off Joel. Your gaze was burning a hole in his head. He felt scrutinised as he ate, and it took everything in him not to engage. He didn't know if you were trying to annoy him into talking to you or if you were lost in your own thoughts, but he didn't ask.
Once again, straight after dinner, you headed into your tent, sending a soft "goodnight" Joel's way. He looked up but not before the sound of the zip echoed out, and he sighed, rubbing his temples.
The fire had died long ago, but Joel still hadn't found the energy to crawl into his tent. He stared up at the starry night, and just as his mind started to wander into dangerous territory -somewhere he never went if he could help it- he heard the noise that had been playing on a loop in his head for the past two days. His cock stirred and he covered his face with his hands. Not again.
He knew he had to get back to his tent and fast, but he had to do it quietly. He began to slowly move the canisters and empty tins, careful not to make any noise. He didn't want you to think he was a pervert. Although that's exactly how he felt right about now. He was about to stand up when he heard a single word from your mouth that made him stop in his tracks.
Joel.
Fuck. Oh fuck. Did you know he was there? Did you hear him? Could you see his silhouette projected on your tent, like it was a cinema screen? He ran through a hundred excuses in his head as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw no signs that you'd heard him. He scoffed at himself and shook his head. He really was going crazy.
Mmm, Joel, don't stop!
He definitely wasn't going crazy, there was no mistaking it. Not only were you masturbating, mere feet from Joel, but you were moaning his name, and he had never been so hard in his life. He couldn't stop himself, and once again, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, and while you moaned and gasped from inside the tent, Joel pleasured himself.
His precum was seeping out and over his fingers, and he bit down harshly on his lip to stop his own sounds from escaping. His motion got quicker, matching the sweet sounds coming from your tent, and when you brought yourself to orgasm and Joel's name slipped from your lips, he came undone. He emptied himself onto the dirt, too entranced by your gasps to notice the streams spilling over his fists. He dropped his head against the log behind him and groaned.
"Shit."
-
It happened three more times, and Joel had never been more conflicted. He was constantly stressed and on edge; the guilt from what he was doing was eating away at him. He'd always been someone that could control himself - he had to be - but when it came to this, to you, it was like something triggered inside him. He'd known you for years and had never had these thoughts or these feelings. Then again, he'd never spent this much time with you, and he'd never heard his name fall from your lips like that.
Joel couldn't deny he thought you were beautiful, and that maybe it inflated his ego a little, that you were thinking about him while you fucked yourself with your fingers, or dreaming about him, but he was under no illusions that it meant anything. You didn't have feelings for him. He was just the only person you'd seen in weeks that wasn't trying to kill you, and feelings get warped. Especially with the way the world was now. Besides, he'd seen the guys that hung around you like moths drawn to a flame. They were much younger and fitter than Joel was. Yet, he found himself as one of those moths, and he couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to be caught in your flame.
Joel was no longer waiting to hear you to get himself off. His mind would conjure up images that made it so he couldn't help himself. Images of your mouth around his cock, your hair tangled in his fingers as he fucked your face. His head buried deep in between your legs as he ravished you, his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of ecstasy. Of his cock slamming into you, his fingernails leaving little indents in your ass as he gripped firmly. The fact that he would never get the real thing didn't bother him. He was content with his fantasies. But he still felt guilty, and the tension between you and Joel was getting worse.
But things were beginning to simmer inside Joel, and his secret masturbating habits were no longer the sole reason for his behaviour. Joel would look over at you, by the fire feading the book you'd memorised front to back, and he'd let himself imagine running his hands through your hair as you sat lazily against him. When he slept, his dreams were of a life he'd never thought he'd want - or have again, and you were always by his side. He'd dream of dancing with you in the living room, waking up beside you, the sunlight making you glow like an ethereal figure. He'd dream of being happy. He'd put it down to the ridiculous situation he found himself in and told himself that once you were both back in the QZ, things would go back to normal. You would go back to people your own age, and Joel would just be a memory of a small fantasy you had while on a difficult run.
But then, as if the universe was trying to intervere, everything changed. The abandoned building you'd been hiding out in turned out not to be not so abandoned, and the two of you had gotten yourselves into a sticky situation. Hunters had cornered you, and in all the chaos and commotion, the last man standing had grabbed you, now using you as a human shield with his arm almost choking you, a knife pressed just above your collarbone while Joel had his gun aimed right at him.
"I'll take yer girls head off!" The guy yelled. Joel could see you were terrified, and it took everything in him not to let his rage consume him. He knew that one wrong move could get you killed. He needed to be smart about this.
"Look, man, we don't have much, but you can take it all. Just let her go." Joel said, trying to keep his voice even. He was terrified that he wasn't going to be able to save you, and he couldn’t live with that. It wasn't just about someone else that he cared about dying or about him failing. You understood him, and somewhere along the way, you had unknowingly brought him out of the darkness. You were his beacon of light, and if he lost that, if he lost you, he wasn't sure he'd ever find his way out of the darkness again.
"Yeah? What if I want 'er?" The hunter sneered, caressing your cheek with his knife, pressing the tip into your skin ever so slightly.
"Not an option." Joel growled.
"Seems like it is to me. I could drag 'er outta here right now. There ain't nothing you could do about it."
-
You felt sick. You couldn't believe you'd let yourself be distracted by Joel being tackled to the ground, and now this disgusting pig had you in a fucking headlock. You'd seen Joel take down hunters and the infected, sometimes effortlessly, so why the hell did you freeze when Joel had been pinned to the floor momentarily? Your feelings for Joel were getting more and more confusing, and you didn't like it one bit, they were going to get you or Joel killed if you carried on like this. 
It's not like you wanted to be attracted to Joel, not when there wasn't a single thing you could do about it. Why would Joel ever go for you? He was twenty years your senior, old enough to be your father. There was just no chance in hell. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from fantasising about him. It wasn't hurting anyone, and it was keeping you somewhat sane, and he'd never know.
"You won't make it out of this room." You heard Joel say in his deep, gruff voice, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeezed shut when you felt the man breathing on your neck, the hot air making your stomach twist, bile rising up your throat as he inhaled your scent, his own vile one violating your senses. You clenched your fist and felt the cold blade of your dagger against your arm, the one you'd forgot you had up your sleeve, literally. How big of an idiot was this guy? How didn't he see you had a knife? As Joel and the hunter traded words, you quickly formulated a plan. If you could somehow manage to stab - or at least slash the guy - maybe he'd let go of you, and then Joel could get a shot in.
"Let go of me!" You shouted, struggling slightly, while slipping the knife further down your sleeve. It worked, and you smirked proudly. You raised your eyebrows at Joel before glancing down at your hand, subtly flashing the knife. You looked back at him, then darted your eyes to your captor. Joel took a second, and you knew he was weighing up his options before he nodded slightly. His eyes darted down to the guys leg, and you winked to let him know you understood the plan. The man still had a fucking knife to your throat, and you didn't want to give him any warnings or ideas.
"Don't worry." The hunter said, 'I'll look after 'er good."
Joel nodded to you, and you clenched the knife, stabbing right into the hunter's thigh. His yells of pain echoed around the room, and he released you from his grip, the knife in his hand clattering to the floor. You stumbled forward, kicking the weapon across the room, but you thankfully managed to stay on your feet. You grinned at Joel, feeling victorious, but it was a fleeting feeling.
"Fuckin' bitch!" The hunter shouted and you turned around, but not quick enough. The knife was sticking out of his thigh, but it didn't seem like he felt it, he was too overcome with rage, and the back of your head slammed against the wall as the hunter pinned you by the throat. You gasped for air, the guys hands squeezing the life out of you, spit flying as he screamed in your face.
"I'll fuckin' kill you, you goddamned bitch!"
You tried to pry the man's hands from around your neck, but it was no use. He was too strong, and your vision was fading rapidly. You were barely able to gasp Joel's name, and you were quickly losing consciousness. All you could do was stand there and let the darkness consume you as you thought about Joel. The way he'd try to hide his smile when you did something wrong, or when you said something silly. The way he laughed, how it was the rich sound you rarely got to hear. How he protected you, even though he clearly didn't want to be around you. How you were going to die, not knowing what you did to make him ignore you the past couple of weeks. Not knowing why he had this sudden disdain for you.
But then, the pressure around your neck suddenly disappeared, and you fell to the floor, gasping for air as you clutched your throat, your eyes wide and darting around wildly, searching for Joel.
He appeared on his knees in front of you and grabbed your face, his panicked, brown eyes staring deep down into your soul.. "Hey! Hey! Are you alright? Come on baby, just breathe for me."
His large hands were warm on your cheeks, the hunter's blood that stained them smearing across your skin as he caressed your cheek, but still, you leaned into his touch. He had never been this gentle before; in fact, he'd never really touched you unless being dragged by your wrist as you ran from infected counts. "I'm okay," you managed to say, and Joel sighed with relief.
"We need to move. Can you stand?" Joel asked, and you nodded, eyes closed as you took a few extra slow, deep breaths. "Okay. Take my hand."
You opened your eyes to Joel's outstretched hand and you took it, letting him haul you gently to your feet. He hooked his arm under yours to help you walk, and as you concentrated on walking with shaky legs, Joel guided you to the door. "Wait here." He said, disappearing out the front door to check for any danger.
As he did so, you turned to inspect the chaos you were leaving behind. Your stomach lurched as you saw the blood pooling around the dead man with a clean, almost surgical, maroon slice straight across his neck, and you wondered just how many times Joel had had to do it, to get such a clean cut. Your eyes snapped back to the door, where Joel was staring at you, his eyes wide and sad, like a puppy, before they hardened. "Let's go." Joel said. "We'll find a house to hide out in."
*
The universe had decided you could both use a break, and less than two hours after the attack, deep inside the seemingly never-ending woods, the two of you came across an unlocked cabin, the keys just sat on the side table. Joel put his finger up to his lips, and you nodded, following his lead as he crept through the front door. He pointed at you, then at the spot you were standing, and you nodded, doing as you were told while Joel checked it out. Neither of you wanted to take any more chances after today.
"Hey, you might wanna come check this out!" Joel's voice echoed through the cabin, and you closed the front door before heading towards the sound of his voice.
The cabin was rustic and run down, and looked to have been abandoned for a decade at least. It had been a hunter's cabin, judging by the animal heads mounted up on the walls, staring down at you with their black, beady eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere. The fireplace was brick, an axe resting against it with piles of wood stacked in front. You turned around and found Joel in the kitchen, staring down at the sink. As you got closer, you heard the familiar sound of a running tap, and you smiled. You'd take any kind of water right now, anything to get rid of this day.
But then you saw it, dancing through the air, rising from the tap. You were convinced you'd imagined it until you saw Joel's fingers rolling together under the water, a look of shock on his face.
"Is that what I think it is?" You asked as you got closer, and Joel nodded. You gingerly held your fingers out, anticipating cold water, not wanting to get your hopes up. But when your fingers hit the warm water, you let out a bewildered laugh, cupping both hands under the water, letting it spill over as it slowly but surely got hotter. "I can't believe it!"
"Yeah, well, we deserved a win eventually." Joel replied. You made eye contact, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards slightly, his eyes darting down to your neck before he took a sharp breath and turned away. "You should go have a shower."
"What about you?" You asked, and he sighed.
"Just go. I'll wash up here."
-
After stripping off your clothes, you looked at your reflection. Only then did you notice the bruising around your neck, and the blood smeared across your cheeks. You could still feel the way the hunter's hands squeezed so tight that you could feel the life draining from your body. You could still feel the panic and terror you felt and the relief when Joel forced the hunter to let go. The look in Joel's eyes when he held your face, the gentle touch as he caressed your cheeks and brushed your hair out of your face. You thought you'd made your peace with dying long ago, but that was until you almost met death, and it made you realise you didn't want to leave Joel. If Joel was in your life, maybe living was worth it.
You were so lost in thought, staring at your scarred body in the mirror, you didn't hear Joel knock on the door. It was only when the door burst open with Joel shouting your name that you turned around, surprised.
Joel kept his eyes on yours, refusing to let himself cave and look down; although it's all he wanted to do. You knew you should grab the towel, or the shower curtain, anything to cover yourself, but you were frozen, like Joel's gaze was keeping you locked on the spot.
Joel cleared his throat and shoved a bundle of clothes into your arms. “Sorry, I-uh, I thought maybe you were- it doesn't matter. I found those, thought you'd want some clean clothes.”
He left, slamming the door behind him, and you exhaled. You ignored the thoughts creeping in and the heat rising up your body and climbed into the bathtub under the running shower; watching the dirt and blood trickle off your body and down the plughole. Once the water ran clean, you stepped out, patting yourself down with the small towel. You then filled up the bathtub with hot water and then threw your underwear and clothes into it. It wouldn't fully clean them, but it'd be enough for now. You picked up the oversized flannel and pulled it over your shoulders, forgoing the jeans that were way too big for you, even with the help of a belt. You sighed and headed back out to Joel.
The fire was burning, the crackling wood echoing through the cabin. Joel was sitting at the wooden table in front of the window, sipping on a glass of wine. There were two plates of pasta on the table, a glass of wine next to one of them. You padded across the room and dropped into the seat opposite Joel, studying his face as he stared out the window. The sky was pink and orange as it set through the trees, the view almost as beautiful as the one sitting next to you; the light of the sunset cascading over Joel. He turned his head to you, and you glanced down at the food. Joel cleared his throat.
"I found some pasta and wine in the cupboards. It only went out of date a few weeks ago." He explained. "It should be okay for us to eat."
"I'm sure it's fine." You replied, "anything's better than beans again, right?" You leaned forward and took the glass of wine, taking a long sip, basking in the way it burned your throat slightly. It had been so long since you'd had even a sip of alcohol, you could swear your head was already fuzzy.
Like most dinners lately, this one was silent. But this was slightly different, considering you were probably the safest you'd been in a long time, and you were eating actual food off actual plates. If you and Joel were in a better place, it would be almost considered domestic. You might even consider staying here, leaving the QZ far behind. But you weren't, Joel could barely bring himself to talk to you — he couldn't even look at you. You really thought you were turning a corner with him until his behaviour changed one morning without warning.
"We should stay here for a couple of days, then head back to the QZ." Joel said. You sighed and finished your glass of wine, but it wasn't enough.
"Great." You replied, looking around for the bottle of wine. "Then you can go back to pretending I don't exist." You weren't sure where the outburst had come from, but you were pretty sure it had something to do with the alcohol running through your blood.
"Pretending you don't- what? I don't do that!" Joel insisted.
You scoffed. "Oh please, you're not as mysterious as you like to think." You said, although there was little truth to it. "You didn't even know my name in the QZ, yet we were around each other for months! I thought we were getting somewhere, but lately, you've been acting like we're strangers!" You told him.
"What?! Okay, maybe I was a little isolated in the QZ, but it's not like that now!" Joel replied, his fork clattering on the plate when it dropped from his hand. "All I do is worry about your survival!"
"Riiiiight, because you care so much." You said, rolling your eyes.
"It's my job to pro-"
"Your job?" You repeated, offended by his words, although you couldn't place why. "Well, allow me to relieve you of your duty." The chair screeched across the floor as you stood up and grabbed your unfinished plate and glass.
Joel inhaled through his nose and groaned. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"Well, I mean it. Leave. I didn't need a babysitter before, and I don't need one now!" You said loudly, heading to the kitchen for a reprieve.
Joel growled and slammed his palms on the table as he stood up, refusing your reprieve, following you to the kitchen. "I'm not leaving you to die out here. Which, you would've already if it wasn't for me. You've proven that multiple times!"
"Maybe," you replied, dropping the plate in the sink, staring at Joel, whose eyes darted away. "But I'd rather die alone than with someone who can't even stand to look at me!"
"I can't look at you because you drive me fucking crazy!" Joel exclaimed, his patience finally having worn thin. "Ever since I heard you moaning in that fucking-" He stopped, his eyes wide and on you as he realised what he said; watching his words dawn on you as your face cracked.
Nausea, or quite possibly embarrassment — rose from your stomach up through your oesophagus, and you drank from the glass of wine that was in front of you — which wasn't quite the best course of action as it didn't sit well on your spinning stomach. Joel had heard you masturbating. That's what he was saying, right? There wasn't anything else he could possibly be referencing. But why would it drive him crazy? Joel could be uptight sometimes, but it didn't seem to be in a "women shouldn't pleasure themselves" way.
You blinked a few times, and Joel's face came into focus. He had closed the gap between you both, now only a few feet away. He looked awkward as he shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.
"You heard me mast -" You stopped, unable to say the word out loud, and you sighed, feeling ridiculous. "You haven't been talking to me for weeks because you heard me -"
Something clicked in your head, like a light had just been switched on. You hadn't just gotten yourself off once. And at some point, you began to fantasise it was Joel's fingers, or mouth, even his cock instead of your own hand. You were aware a couple of times his name had slipped from your lips, and you'd clasped your hand around your mouth afterwards, praying he hadn't heard you.
It was beginning to seem very likely he had heard you, and something in you shifted from embarrassment to…something else, and you arched your eyebrow, finishing off the glass of wine for some extra courage.
"You heard me say your name.” You said, arching your eyebrow. Joel stared before he nodded slowly.
“I heard.” He confirmed, refusing to break eye contact. The air in the kitchen had shifted; it was thick with tension, and Joel wondered where this was going.
You hummed and tilted your head. “What did you do?” You asked, smirking when it was clear it caught Joel off guard.
"What?”
“What did you do, Joel?” You asked, leaning back against the counter. Joel's eyes darted to your bare legs before slowly dragging them up your body, stopping at the three open buttons that exposed your cleavage.
“I thought I heard you crying, so I came to check on you.” He explained. “When I got to your tent, I realised you weren't, and I went back to my tent.” His eyes darted to your face before he closed the gap between you until he was practically on top of you. “I tried to ignore you, but I couldn't help myself.” He lifted your chin with his index and middle fingers, so you were staring at him through your lashes. Your lips parted slightly as your chest rose and fell, your heart pounding against your rib cage. “I kept hearing your moans and thinking about you in that tent, and it got me so - I had to -”
His eyes were dark, full of lust, and you instinctively licked your lips slightly. "You- couldn't help yourself, huh?" You asked. Joel arched his eyebrow and tentatively reached his hand up to your cheek. He traced his finger over your cheek gently, and you closed your eyes as you inhaled. "Hearing you moan my name," He said, running a path down your jaw to your neck, "it sounded too good."
You reached up, closing the gap between your lips. Without hesitation, Joel reciprocated the kiss, his hand still around your neck as the other slipped around your hips, resting on the bottom of your back, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your crotch and you could feel it getting harder as the kiss deepened. You tugged his brown, leather jacket from his shoulders while Joel started an assault on your neck. If this lasted forever, it still wouldn't be long enough.
"Is this a good idea?" You asked through the gasps as he nipped and sucked at your neck.
"Mhmm, giving me some mixed signals here." he mumbled against your skin before pulling away, his mouth inches from yours. "I think it's a fucking great idea. Don't you?"
“I'm not sure.” You confessed. Joel cupped your cheek with his hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes soft, even if still full of lust. Was this a good idea? He'd spent weeks ignoring you, and it felt like Hell — but the way he kissed you, the way he touched you; it felt like Heaven.
"I don't care if it's a good idea or not." You replied, and Joel grinned.
"Good," he replied, "Because you have no idea how much I need you right now."
"Then show me." You said, and Joel growled before he pressed his lips against yours and instigated another passionate kiss, illicting a moan from you. He picked you up and dropped you onto the counter, spreading your legs so he could step in between them.
The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing together as both sets of hands roamed each other's bodies. Joel's hands cupped and massaged your breasts as yours unbuttoned his jeans, using your heels to push them down his legs. One hand trailed a path from your breast to your stomach, dancing around the place you needed him the most.
"No panties, huh?" He said into your mouth, his finger tracing a path up your slit so gently, it was like he was using a feather. "I never would've known you were such a slut." His finger grazed your clit, and he grinned as you bucked your hips.
"Maybe if you'd acknowledged my existence, you might have found out earlier." You replied, grabbing his bulge through the fabric and squeezed, tight. Joel gasped into your mouth as he thrusted into your hand, and it was your turn to smirk against his mouth. If he could tease you, you could do the same, you thought as you slipped your hand into his boxers, relishing the feeling of his cock in your grasp.
Joel growled, his hips bucking before he shoved two fingers inside you without warning. A yelp mixed with a moan slipped from your mouth as you threw your head back, and Joel groaned. He kept his pace up, pushing his fingers in and out of you, feeling your walls clench around them as he watched your face contort with pleasure, your moans echoing throughout the kitchen. Not even his fantasies could have prepared him for how incredible this felt. If using just his fingers made him — made you feel this good, he couldn't wait to use his cock.
But he would wait. For weeks, you had — albeit unknowingly, driven him to the brink of insanity. Clouded his mind so he couldn't focus on anything; which is why he didn't notice the threat today, which almost cost you your life. So now, he had to drive you insane in the only way he could.
He dropped to his knees and pulled you by your legs so you were hanging off the counter. He then hoisted your legs over his shoulders, and you watched Joel as he studied your cunt — the look in his eyes resembled one of a wild animal, one that was finally allowed out of its cage, to roam free as its right. Yet, he was biting his lip; almost like he was holding onto that last tiny bit of control he had left. But you wanted — no, you needed the wild animal, and so you tangled your fingers into his hair. He looked up at you, locking eyes as he let you guide his head to where you needed him to be.
Shivers ran down your spine as his beard tickled you as he dragged his tongue over the skin on the inside of your thighs. Once again, he touched every piece of you, but not where you needed.
“Joel,” you whined, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you bucked your hips, "Please." You begged.
“Oh baby, you're already so wet.” he tutted, his finger running through your folds and teasing your entrance before he lifted it to your mouth and pushed it between your lips. “Your pretty pussy is glistening for me.”
You tasted a hint of your juices as you wrapped your tongue around his finger, keeping your gaze on him as you did. He groaned, imagining how good your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. He pulled his finger out, and you gasped when he pushed it inside you. When he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and arched your back. “Oh shit, fuck, Joel.”
Every sense was heightened as Joel flattened his tongue and lapped at you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he swirled his tongue around your clit. You pushed yourself against him, practically hanging off the counter, making Joel grab your ass with both hands as he buried his face into you. With his beard grazing against you and his tongue pushing you further to release, your thighs gripped his head. Every single part of you was on fire as his assault on your cunt continued, and you could feel your orgasm brewing.
So could Joel, which was apparent as his pace got quicker, bringing in his fingers to help finish the job. With his thumb circling your clit and his tongue deep inside you, you reached your climax, Joel's name spilling from your mouth. As you threw your head back, grinding yourself against his face; you saw stars, all while Joel kept up the relenting pace.
He finally pulled away and stood up, grinning as he leaned towards you. His beard was glistening, and when he kissed you, you could taste yourself on him, mixing with the wine you had with dinner. Joel hooked his arms under your legs and scooped you off the counter; carrying you fireman style out the kitchen, through the sitting room and into the bedroom, where he dropped you on the bed. He crawled on top of you and dipped his head to kiss you. It was a soft, sweet kiss, one that you didn't want to end, so when it did, you whimpered, and Joel smiled softly.
“You still wanna do this?” He whispered. “We can stop if you want to.”
You leaned up on your elbows and gave him your answer with a kiss. He pressed his palm on your cheek and deepened the kiss, pushing you back down as he did. The two of you made out like two teenagers, and you could feel Joel's cock hardening against you. You slipped your hand in between your bodies and gripped his cock, rubbing the head against your entrance. Joel groaned, his head falling into your shoulder. He bit down as you pushed his cock inside yourself, your moans harmonising, the sensation almost too much.
Joel took over, grabbed your hands, and pinned them above your head. The animalistic look was in his eyes again, grunting with every thrust, his grip against your wrists tightening. You closed your eyes, and Joel growled.
“You thought about this while fucking yourself.” He said, his voice low. “Open your eyes and look at me while I fuck you.”
You opened your eyes and were met by Joel's big, brown ones that were now practically black. He fucked you harder, thrusting in and out as his thumb once again circled your clit. There was a ninety-eight percent chance that someone on the other side of the forest could hear everything, but at this moment neither of you cared. After weeks of awkwardness, of fantasising about each other while you touched yourselves, this felt right, like something had finally clicked into place — and you'd be damned if this was the first and only time it happened. Now you'd had a taste, you couldn't ever go back.
Joel picked up the pace, and you could once again feel your orgasm rising. You pulled Joel closer, your foreheads touching, your vision falling out of focus as you stared into Joel's eyes, but you refused to look away.
“Fuck, Joel, I'm so close” You whimpered, bucking your hips to meet his thrust, his cock hitting deeper each time you moved.
“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna -” Joel grunted, your synced thrusts getting faster. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moaned. “I'm gonna, shit -”
“Let go for me, Joel.” You whispered in his ear. “Come for me, and next time, I'll show you what I can do with my mouth.”
It only took a couple more thrusts before you and Joel finished together, and he slumped on top of you, breathing heavily. You lifted his head up, brushed his hair out his face, and smiled up at him, hearts practically in your eyes.
“So…” you said, and he reciprocated the smile. “Sooo…” He repeated.
“Are you going to be all weird with me again?” You teased, and Joel arched his eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his lips.
“I don't think so,” Joel replied, dipping his head for another kiss. “Especially if I want this to happen again.”
“Oh yeah? What makes you think we're doing this again?” You asked, and Joel grinned.
“Oh we're definitely doing that again.” Joel answered, and you giggled as he rolled off you and reached a blanket that was on a chair next to the bed. He flung it over the two of you before pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips against your temple. “I wanna know what you can do with that mouth.” He mumbled.
You giggled again, your heart fluttering as he linked his fingers around yours and kissed your knuckles. “Keep this up, and you'll find out.” You replied before a yawn slipped out.
“Alright you little tease, I think I can hold out until tomorrow.” Joel chuckled. “Right now, I think you need to sleep.”
You snuggled into Joel's chest, his fingers running through your hair. You never thought you'd be in this position, in bed with Joel Miller. You knew there was a lot more to talk about, but right now, you didn't care. You just focused on Joel's heartbeat under your head, on his fingers in your hair. Focused on how — even though there were still many dangers to staying in this cabin, it was still the safest you'd been in a long time.
The last thing you heard as you drifted into a peaceful sleep was a quiet confession from Joel; one you weren't sure you were actually meant to hear. “I'll always keep you safe. Even if it means giving my life.”
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blueduplicity · 1 year
Text
Three's a crowd
Word count: 32k
It's not often you and all your best friends can hang out and have a movie night together, not while balancing everything else required to live the model adult life.
So you take advantage of the rare opportunity to make, potentially, a very dumb decision.
What harm could there be in taking three edibles at once? Your best friends are here to take care of you, there's nothing for you to worry about.
What could be so scary about the fact that not a single one of them is paying attention to the TV? (Except Bo, at least he's invested.) Or, the way that they can't seem to keep their hands off of you. You're rather open with your affection, but they've never been so touchy before, not like this. They've never had you sit in their lap while they run their hands over your body, they've never knelt between your legs with a crooked smile, never slid their hands beneath the waistband of your shorts.
What might be scary, though, is how they wait until they're absolutely sure your edibles have kicked in to drop the façade, when they know for sure you won't be able to remember a single thing they do to you.
What harm could there be, indeed.
(Dubcon-turned-consensual, orgy, dom/sub dynamics, drugs, fem!reader, double penetration (same hole,) anal m!receiving, roleplay, oral, hand jobs, overstimming, reader is put thru the ringer, hella aftercare, poly dynamics. )
“Are you sure that taking three isn’t going to be too much?” 
Akaashi’s voice is fairly dubious, heavy with suspicion as he’s eyeing you with an expression of blatant concern and doubt. 
He’s seated in an oversized armchair nestled against the window, just barely out of reach from your spot on the far right of your well-loved couch. Your legs are tossed over Bokuto’s lap, his warm hands rubbing absentmindedly at your calves while listening to your conversation. 
“It’s not gonna be that bad y’know, I took two before and felt fine.” You try to reassure him, twisting around in your spot so that you can actually see him while you talk. The look on his face, however, is far from promising. The intense furrow in his brow is enough to tell you that you’re not as convincing as you might want to be. 
After all, ‘fine’ actually meant that you were completely laid out and had to have Tsukishima take care of you while you were sprawled on his kitchen floor trying to explain to him why your arms were so tingly, so you can’t be too surprised that Akaashi doesn’t believe you. 
Kuroo snorts out a laugh from his side at the other end of the couch, his legs overlapping with yours. He throws a particularly cocky grin your way, eyes like dark whiskey glinting in the light from the TV. “You were definitely not fine. Tsukki called me that night, freaking out because he couldn’t figure out why you were telling him you had bees in your arms.” 
You snicker, but said blonde looks less than pleased, glaring at you from where he stands in the kitchen with his elbows leaned on the counter while he scrolls through his phone. “I’m seriously not taking care of you this time, not again.” He warns you, his scowl deepening when both you and Kuroo share a doubtful look. 
He says the same thing almost every time, that he’s going to leave you to fend for yourself, that you’re just going to have to ask someone else for help. He never follows through with it, always one of the first ones to get you whatever you need. Even if he complains about it. 
“If you say so!” You grin, trying to stifle it when Kuroo gently kicks your leg, barely able to hide a smirk of his own. Kei glowers , hunched over the counter with his phone held tight in both hands. His face is tinged pink, and even far away you can catch the hard swallow that bobs his throat, because he knows, and he knows that you know. 
He’ll always take care of you. 
You turn back towards Akaashi, stretching your arm out as far as you can in his direction and wiggling your fingers to catch his attention as though you didn’t already have it to begin with. His expression is decidedly unimpressed, leveling you with a look that you could almost assume is a glare, if you didn’t know better. Akaashi rarely gets angry , so you’ve picked up the horrid habit of pushing his buttons when you know he’s more likely to indulge you. 
You wave your hand around dramatically, making grabby motions with your fingers until he’s rolling his eyes and smiling, though he tries to hide it by biting the insides of his lips to keep them from curling. 
“I’ll be okay, ‘Kaashi.” It’s a flimsy assurance, your impulse control when under the influence is, to say frankly, utter shit. You’re constantly getting into shit you shouldn’t, constantly trying to do things that you shouldn’t, and you’re always trying to make weird, spur of the moment decisions. So, you don’t bother trying to promise him that you won’t do anything stupid. He'd just call you a liar anyway.
But you’re not alone, so at least when you’re making dumb decisions like this you aren’t by yourself in case something goes wrong. You’re with your closest friends, people who you know and trust to take care of you, you wouldn’t be doing this otherwise. 
Kuroo especially, even though he’ll never admit it outloud, he actually likes it when you get high around him. He’s seen firsthand during old college parties the way you would decline any weed or alcohol flat out, unwilling to let yourself be in that kind of vulnerable position without being near people you trusted. That you feel safe enough to do it around him says volumes, and so he tends to coddle you a little whenever you get high, though he refuses to acknowledge that he does so.
He’s usually the second one to sneak you snacks though, only rivaled by Bokuto in his efforts to spoil you when you get stupid. 
Bokuto, in contrast, has always been vocal about how much he loves it, loves the way you giggle at nothing and the way you always get a little clingier towards everyone. He’s never gotten high with you, but his energy is infectious, and the two of you feed into each other with horrible impulse purchases and loud peals of laughter well after everyone else has gone to sleep, to the detriment of the others. Your late night edibles have been the cause of many a midnight trip to the convenience store for snacks, trips that Bokuto is more than happy to accompany you on. 
No matter how much these edibles might fuck you up, you have your guys who will take care of you, so you aren’t worried in the slightest. 
Akaashi sighs, his stern expression faltering when he sees the easy smile on your face, your arm still stretched out towards him. The facade cracks a little, but you don’t find blatant concern hidden beneath the surface like you expect. 
He looks excited. For just a second, pupils blown wide against the navy expanse of his iris, a flush that simmers high on his cheekbones, fingers clenched tight on the arms of the chair as he sucks in a quick breath. 
Then it’s gone, he gives in and moves to take your hand, having to lean over the side of his chair just to reach you. His fingers are gentle as they wrap around yours, weathered from years of volleyball and keeping up with the other three on the off occasion when they can convince him to set for their practice. You squeeze once in an attempt at a comforting gesture, wanting to try to reassure him, but then his thumb glides over your knuckles in a ghost of a caress that feels strangely possessive. A shiver races up your spine and his grip tightens, if only briefly, and you suddenly feel much more aware of the other three pairs of eyes on you.  
You pull away, instinctive, hiding another shiver when his face sours at your retreat. Bo keeps you steady when you lean forward to snag the bottle of edibles from your coffee table, hands warm on your calves and firm enough to pull you back up when you begin to slide off the couch. 
You pop three gummies into your mouth, grimacing as the bitter, astringent taste coats your tongue. Even with a thin layer of sugar on the outside, it does nothing to disguise the flavor of THC. It tastes like you licked the floor of a recently sanitized hospital. 
“Gross.” You groan, sticking your tongue out as if that will help remove the awful flavor from your mouth. Kuroo snickers at you, gently bopping you with his leg again to get your attention. You nudge him back, playfully scowling at his sly grin, the way he tips his head back to peer at you with half-lidded eyes. 
“That bad?” He asks, like he does every time, grin stretching when you throw the small container at him. Bo catches it instead, pointedly ignoring the look of utter betrayal you send his way. 
“Awful, tastes like juice and sanitizer.” 
An arm stretches out from over your shoulder, a bottle of juice held loosely between slender fingers and dangled in front of your face. You let your head fall against the back of the couch to see Tsukishima curled over you, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. He frowns at you, clearly waiting for you to take the bottle so he can move, but you wait a little longer to drag it out. He’s pretty like this, with his eyes bright from the reflected light of the TV. 
When he sees you aren’t going to take it, he makes a low noise of frustration and drops the bottle in your lap. 
“Thank you, Kei.” You sing sweetly, uncapping the drink to take a small sip and pointedly ignoring his pissy huff, watching as he turns away to return to his place in the kitchen. 
You had tried to get him to come join you on the couch before, but with Bo and Kuroo sprawled into the small space beside you, there wasn’t enough room and he didn’t seem to want to relax anyway. It’s like he’s on edge, fingers tapping at the kitchen counter while he watches the TV with blank eyes, seeing but not really paying attention. 
You turn back to the show, settling against the arm of the couch and reaching out towards Bokuto, waiting with your hand upturned for him to take it. His fingers immediately lace between yours and tighten until your palms kiss, and the sweet smile he gives you is enough to make you feel molten and dewy, soft beneath the warmth of his affection. 
Part of you wants to reach for Akaashi again as well, the urge to touch him is almost a tangible thing that festers, but he’s too far away and looks comfortable in his spot, so you reign in the urge to pester him for his hand. It’s hard to shake, and the fingers of your free hand curl inwards to form a fist as a tangible way to quell the desire.
Kuroo bumps his foot into your leg, though, almost like he knows you’re at the stage of your budding high where you begin to want some form of physical contact. You bump him back, grinning when he smirks at you, Bo stuck in the middle as you begin trying to push each other’s legs off of his lap. He has the advantage, stronger, legs longer than yours, but he goes easy on you when you’re high. 
If you were sober, though, he’d be merciless. Kuroo hates losing. 
Nights like this are common, or as common as they can be when your friends are athletes, an editor, and a businessman, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is different tonight. Kuroo is messing with you as usual, Kei is being a grump like every other night, Akaashi toes the line between being a disgruntled parent and being just as mischievous as Kuroo, and Bo is your willing cuddle buddy as always. Nothing is different, but you can’t quite relax.  
You can’t figure out why. 
Maybe it’s the way none of them are actually watching TV, other than Bokuto. They’re stealing glances in your direction, sharing undecipherable looks with each other when they think you aren’t paying attention, touching you more than usual. You don’t mind the affection, but it feels a little off. Unease creeps up your throat, but Bo’s hand is steady against your calves, warm and reassuring as he’s always been, soft from the lotion he’d let you apply hours ago. 
If there was something wrong, you’re sure he wouldn’t be this calm or collected, he’s terrible at hiding when he’s upset and he never really tries to. You tighten your grip on his hand, a questioning squeeze, and he answers immediately. Reassuring, and then Kuroo reaches out to curl his fingers along the sensitive skin of your ankle, thumb smoothing over the arch to capture your attention. 
When he has it, he smiles, unlike the typical catlike smirks that curl at his lips, it’s inviting and indulgent. He squeezes your ankle once and shares a look with Bo, something hidden and secret passing between them, but your thoughts are turning syrupy and you’re finding it a little hard to remember what had you so stressed to begin with. 
They touch you slowly, warm hands sliding up and down your legs in rhythmic loops that have you melting into the couch, missing the way Akaashi watches with burning eyes as you let out a pleasured murmur and how he tenses up in his seat, missing how Kei nearly chokes on air at the sound and covers his mouth with one hand, brows knitted tightly together. 
You can’t feel the weight of their attention, but if you could it would surely be stifling. 
Each passing episode of your show begins to bleed into the next, a blur of colorful pixels and noise that slowly melds into a single cacophony against your senses, as if you’ve fully zoned out. Sometimes you startle out of it, muscles tensing up as you straighten, before relaxing when you remember where you are. 
Somewhere along the hour, you end up in Bokuto’s lap, his chest snug against your back and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. He’s warm, his chin tucked over your shoulder so he can still see the screen, humming happily when he squishes his cheek against yours.
You giggle and press your face against his in return, the two of you snickering together even though he doesn’t really know why you’re laughing, but he likes that you’re happy and that’s enough to have him join you. You sink into him slowly, the plush of his thighs much more inviting than your couch. He’s like one of those really big teddy bears, all soft and squishy when he’s not flexing. 
And with a newly freed space opened on the couch, you can turn your attention back towards Tsukishima to convince him to take the vacant spot. 
But he’s being difficult.
“Kei.” 
He’s still not answering you, eyes locked onto the screen of his phone, those pretty fingers tapping an unfamiliar rhythm on the cold countertop. 
You shift a little, turning so you can face the kitchen a little easier. “Kei!” 
He lifts his head, brow furrowed. “What?” 
“Come sit with me.” You demand once more, perhaps a little petulantly, waving one of your arms in indication of the empty space beside you and Bo. 
Kuroo has moved from your side to the floor, sitting between your legs, and he’s propped them up over his shoulders so he can rest his hands on your ankles. Bo’s legs are stretched wide around the width of him, which gives you ample room to stretch out in his lap and slump against his chest. Kuroo’s trembling a little, and you can hear the faint wheeze of his laughter, the sound high pitched and a touch manic because you’ve been bugging Tsukishima to join you on the couch for five minutes straight and he’s this close to losing it. 
“I don’t want to.” Said blonde declines, expression pinched in frustration with his eyes thinned nearly to slits, lips pressed tight together in a thin grimace. “I’m fine right here, pay attention to the TV.” 
You scowl. “I’ll pay attention when you come over here.” 
“I don’t want to.” He repeats, and Akaashi groans softly, dragging a hand down his face as if that will wipe away his exasperation. 
Kuroo tips his head, muffling his laughter against the skin of your knee, butterflies stirring low in your belly at the way his breath warms where his lips nearly touch. Bokuto is chuckling too, soft little puffs of breath that skim over your ear, and he’s languid beneath you, molten as opposed to being hardwired with energy like he usually is when you get like this. 
“Come sit.” You demand, and yet another circle is completed, this time Akaashi’s groan is louder, his gaze pointed and sharp and very intentionally avoided by you. 
When he sees that you’re ignoring him, he gets up to take your previous spot, sitting on your right and pressed into Bokuto’s side so he can reach for you. He cups your chin gently with slender fingers, turning you around to face him and forcing you to meet his intensely unamused expression. His hand is cold, unyielding when you try to twist out of his grip. 
You swallow, and his eyes dip to track the bob of your throat, his grip on your face tightening a little. Fingertips press into your cheeks, small divots he uses for leverage to pull you closer. 
“Leave Kei alone, love.” He murmurs, releasing his hold on your face and letting his hand fall to cup your jaw instead, his thumb sweeping wide arcs across your cheek. “You shouldn’t try to make him come if he doesn’t want to.” 
Kuroo snickers, which chains into Bo trying to stifle a laugh against your shoulder as well, the two of them struggling to keep from amping the other up and setting off an inevitable bout of hyena cackling. Your lips twitch, but you manage to contain your smile so Akaashi doesn’t glare at you like he is at them. 
“I miss him.” You say it softly, a secret that draws his focus back to you, your voice little more than a quiet rasp so that Kei can’t overhear. Akaashi melts, practically coos at the softness you’ve revealed . As much as he enjoys your snark, he likes your vulnerability more, when you’re honest rather than stubborn with him. 
He tips close to press the bridge of his nose against your cheek, pleased when you lean into him. “You could tell him that.” He drops his voice to a whisper as well, playing along. “Instead of trying to make him angry, you know annoying him isn’t going to get you anywhere.”  
Tsukishima is frowning now that he can’t hear your voices, leaning across the counter with his scowl morphing into more of a worried frown, phone flat on the countertop and forgotten. 
“I would rather die than admit I miss him to his face.” You tell him seriously, and that’s the last straw for Bokuto or Kuroo controlling their laughter. 
Akaashi bumps your forehead with his, a gentle chiding that makes you whine, but he’s unrepentant. 
“Try asking him nicely, I’m sure that would get you much farther than ordering him to sit here.” His fingertips glide down the arch of your throat, a pleased noise sealed tightly behind his lips when you tilt your head to give him better access. 
The air sizzles, pops with simmering tension that you’re, unfortunately, a little too far in the back of your head to really notice. 
“Feels nice.” You murmur, voice thick and slurred, unfamiliar on your tongue. 
“Does it?” He breathes, fingers twitching as they trace invisible lines over your collar bones, drifting lower as you crane your head back as if to invite him in for more. 
Something about it feels more intimate than you anticipated, like he’s branding you with his touch, possessive in how he curls closer to you as though trying to climb into Bokuto’s lap as well. The thought makes you giggle, cutting through some of the tension and allowing Akaashi to relax into you, resting his forehead against your shoulder to stifle a heavy exhale.
“Ohhh, is someone a little up in the clouds right now?” Kuroo tips his head back with a grin, something playful on his face that softens when you reach out to swipe his bangs out of his eyes. Your fingers linger against his cheek, and his eyes dip to half-closed, a sort of smolder that brims with unidentifiable heat. 
“Just a little.” You admit, a shiver crawling up your spine when Bo’s hands dip beneath the hem of your shorts, fingertips grazing bare skin. You feel raw, wildly sensitive as a pleasant buzz builds at the base of your neck. You shudder, full-bodied in his lap, and his hands press down as if to hold you in place, pulling you back into him with a noise that you feel in his chest more than hear. 
Before you can ask if you’ve hurt him, Tsukishima has finally gotten sick enough of not being part of your conversation that he’s decided to join you. Not at your side, like you wanted, but seated at the other end of the couch, as far from you as possible. You pull away from Akaashi’s gentle touch to scowl in his direction. 
“Kei!” 
He mirrors your scowl, though there’s a light dust of pink across his cheeks. “What? I came over here, what more do you want?” 
“I want you to come closer. ”
"No.” A steadfast refusal, and he’s already turning back towards the TV, completely prepared to ignore you.
You groan, kicking your limbs out as best you can with Kuroo’s hands on your legs and Bo’s arms tucked beneath yours. “Kei! ” 
Akaashi sighs, a hand on your thigh to reign you in, a subtle reminder that you reluctantly adhere to. 
You decide that it might be better to play nice, for now. You back off, repositioning yourself in Bo’s lap so you’re looking towards the TV, squirming a little when his hands squeeze your hips tight. You giggle, and then he rocks you back into him again, a breathless puff of air spilling against your ear that you think might be a laugh. 
“Bokuto.” Akaashi’s voice is sharp enough that you nearly jump, and Bo definitely does. He startles beneath you, hips twitching, and you gasp when, for a moment, he grinds you down hard on his lap, muffling a noise against your neck that sounds almost pained. 
But he settles after that, apparently properly scolded. He hugs you to him, face buried in the crook of your neck, warm and solid and you’re almost sure you could fall asleep just like this. Kuroo is trying not to laugh, you can feel the tremble of his shoulders beneath your legs, and your hand instinctively goes back to the top of his head, fingers ruffling his already messy hair and making him swat at you half-heartedly. 
It’s harder to focus on the show now. You hear the voices, the screech of metal on metal, and the blur of colors whips by leaving you dazed, staring blankly at the moving screen even though none of the information is sticking. Completely glossed over, you turn your attention inwards to the sensations around you instead, your favorite part after the incredibly deep sleep the high provides.
Kuroo’s hair is silken, soft, you bury both hands in it and begin massaging his scalp. He makes a startled noise that begins as a yelp but ends in a pleasured sigh, melting beneath your hands.
Bo removes his right arm from your waist and lifts it, coaxing Akaashi into coming closer with two pairs of puppy eyes tossed in for added effect. After a brief moment of hesitation, some unsaid emotion shining in his eyes, Akaashi dips close and leans into Bo’s chest, and by proxy rests his head against your shoulder. 
His hand moves to rest on your thigh overtop Bokuto’s, their fingers lacing together in a gesture that makes you smile, feeling warm and buzzy all over. 
Your patience is rewarded when Kei begins to move closer as well, shifting subtly at first, half an inch at a time, then scooting the rest of the way until he’s pressed into Bo’s side. Wordlessly, his left arm lifts, and then Kei joins you and Akaashi resting against the spiker’s chest. 
One of his hands finds yours, clammy, his fingers tight as they squeeze down on the spaces between yours. You rub your cheek against the top of his head, feeling the soft silk of his hair and humming contentedly even as he makes a low grunt of protest and tries to duck away from you. You follow, leaning far off to the left to chase him as he moves, and Bo has to hastily snap his arm back around your waist to stop you from falling over completely. 
When you let out a breathy, high-pitched giggle, grabbing for Kei to try and pull him back in, Akaashi reaches out to drag you upright by the shoulder. 
“Behave.” He reminds you, watching as your head tilts, lolling lazily to one side, your eyes a touch glassy and dazed. 
The buzz is louder now, droning on like you’ve stuffed the inside of your skull with cotton, and you feel it like a tangible weight settling over your body, static on the top layer of your skin. You begin to hum, softly to yourself, and Bo presses his cheek against yours with a small, affectionate murmur, once again tickling you with the light scruff of his stubble, pleased when it draws more laughter from you. 
Your fingers end up combing through Kuroo’s hair again, buried to the scalp and scratching until he’s leaning back into your touch with a groan that rumbles deep in his chest. His hands squeeze your calves tighter, head tilted back so he can look up at you with heavy eyes. His smile widens a tic when he sees the clearly drowsy expression you wear, like you’re not even paying attention to anything else but him.  
“Whatcha doin, pretty?” He drawls, low and slow and content. 
“Jus’ playin’.” You murmur, just as soft. “Your hair feels nice.” 
“Yeah?” He lets his eyes fall shut briefly, indulgence oozing from every pore. “Glad you think so.” 
It’s nice being like this, and you wish you could take a picture of him right now. Relaxed, lines of tension normally creasing his face are gone, a light smile that you’re not sure he realizes is there. You think if he were a cat, he’d be purring up a storm with the way he rolls his head against your hands to encourage you towards a specific spot. 
“Are you comfy?” You ask, voice a little breathy as Bo turns his face in towards your neck, his lips warm as they ghost over your racing pulse. It makes you squirm, writhing in his lap until his hands clamp down on your waist, squeezing once in what feels almost like a warning. 
“Sure am.” Kuroo’s eyes glint with mirth, deception like a honeyed glaze that you don’t have to try all that hard to see through. 
You frown, poking the back of his head with a low whine. “The floor isn’t comfy, Tetsurou, don’t lie.” 
He softens, chuckles, patting your thigh affirmingly and catching your hand to bring it to his lips. “Your lap is plenty comfy enough for me, don’t worry.” 
Ignoring him, you turn towards Tsukishima, who has been trying to act like he’s paying attention to the show and not listening to you talk. “Kei?” You call softly, leaning forward in Bo’s lap so you can try to catch his eye. 
He looks at you warily, shoulders hunched up towards his ears as if that will offer him some defense from whatever you’re about to say. “What?”
“Would you pass me that throw pillow, please?” 
He blinks at you, owlishly, head cocked to one side with something vaguely like confusion . “What?” He repeats, baffled.
You gesture towards Kuroo. “I wanna give him somethin’ to sit on, the floor hurts. Please?” 
Bo hums against your skin, a soft puff of laughter that skims across your shoulder. “You’re not usually this nice to Tsukki, what’s got you bein’ all sweet?”
His hands move further down, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pajama shorts. You squirm when he pushes them lower around your thighs, pushing against him and trying to blink away the thick haze blanketing you in cement. Slow, muddled, feeling as if you’re moving through water as you bat at his hands weakly.  
Kuroo lets out a soft croon as he turns, kneeling between your legs with a grin. The view of your knees propped up over his shoulders suddenly looks a lot less innocent. “How sweet of you, what a thoughtful girl you are.” He teases, warm, rough hands gliding up your thighs, pushing the material of your shorts higher up to meet where Bo is pushing them down. Their fingers lace together briefly, a look shared between them before Kuroo’s eyes are back on you. 
You gasp, jumping a little at the ticklish sensation of their fingertips ghosting over your skin, sending racing shivers and goosebumps all along your arms. Something hot pulses beneath you, then Bo groans softly in your ear and rocks his hips, jostling you slightly. Before you can question him, even Kei is coming closer, brow pinched but with a look of yearning in his eyes that’s completely foreign on his familiar face. 
“Guys?” Your voice is breathy, confused, and you try to blink away the fog only to realize it’s not your vision that’s muddled. Your body feels heavy, sluggish, and some distant part of you is strangely fearful of how intense this particular high feels. 
Akaashi sighs, soft and chastising, cupping your cheek and coaxing you to face him once more. “I tried to warn you.” He murmurs, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip and testing it’s give before leaning in to kiss you.
It feels natural, at first. Akaashi is one of your best friends, and you’re a rather affectionate person even platonically, so it doesn’t strike you as odd. He kisses you with an ease that belies the desperate way he clings to you, his other hand lifting to cup your jaw and pull you in just a little closer, a moan muffled against your lips when he licks into your mouth and covers your tongue with the taste of salted popcorn. 
Then you feel the heat of Kuroo’s breath on your legs, working his way up from your knees to the hem of your shorts where he and Bo still have them bunched up between their hands. His eyes burn when he looks up at you, taking in the way you try to pull away from Akaashi’s kiss, your face panicked but not quite fearful, still lagging a little far behind even as he maps out the plush of your thighs with his mouth, teeth nipping and dragging until it feels as though you’re going to bruise everywhere he touches. 
“Hold on, wait…” You whine when Akaashi pulls you back in, mouth slotted over yours and swallowing your protests. Bokuto is rocking up against you, you realize, the hard press of his clothed cock rutting into your ass, grinding into you and muffling his voice against your shoulder. 
“Easy, Kou!” Kuroo laughs, pulling back so he can get a better look at you, the slackened weight of your body, limbs twitching but unable to find the strength to really move. Three edibles was definitely too much for you, but there’s no way to take it back, no way to dampen the effects. You’re stuck on a rollercoaster ride that’s way more intense than you bargained for, and there’s no exit in sight. 
You take advantage of the vacated space between your legs to snap them shut, knees pressed tightly together while you twist your face out of Akaashi’s gentle grip. 
“Don’t be like that.” Kuroo breathes, leaning up over your lap to try getting in your face, a grin unfurling across his lips when you jerk your head to the side to avoid his stare, to avoid Akaashi’s attempts at coaxing you back to him. Both desperate and eager, thinly veiled anticipation swelling behind a flimsy barrier of self-restraint.
But Kei is there to meet you, a hand at your jaw, he ignores your shaky whine of protest and pulls you in with unabashed want in his eyes, flushed high on his cheeks with color when his lips slant over yours. It’s a hungrier kiss than you’d have thought him capable of, hard and hot with greedy, wandering hands. He grips the back of your neck tight to keep you from ripping away, a shaky breath that warms your lips as he tilts his head, the sound muffled when he takes your mouth again. You feel lost in him, swept up in it even as a quiet part of you remains acutely aware of the eyes on you, refusing to allow you to fully submerge yourself in incoherence. 
Bo is at your neck, kissing, sucking, teeth scraping over sensitive skin while he rolls his hips into you, hands that are searing hot pulling you back on every upstroke so he can grind himself against you at his leisure. Everyone, everywhere, all of it at once stifling, the rough fingertips that drag over your bare skin, lips like velvet that drop kisses onto every bare inch of you within reach, the flicker of something silken that leaves a trail of wetness as it draws a path along the clothed apex of your thighs, as much as it can reach with the way you squeeze them so tightly together.
It’s too much. You feel like you’re burning all over, filled with puffy cotton and bees that buzz around inside your ribs and your skull. It’s hard to think, hard to move, like motion blur that’s happening in real life. 
You open your mouth to protest, or complain, anything that might voice your displeasure but then Tsukki is kissing you harder, slipping his tongue into your mouth and chasing the lingering taste of Akaashi’s popcorn. His teeth click against yours in his eagerness, desperate in how he tries to get as close as he can. It’s like the facade from before has completely dissolved, leaving something behind that you’re not sure you recognize.
You’ve never seen desire like this on his face before.  
Rough hands pry your thighs apart, a cheshire grin curling between them as Kuroo settles in the space there once more, eyes half-lidded and glassy with lust staining his cheeks pink. “Just wanna play with you a little, baby.” He breathes, mouthing hot kisses into your inner thighs, sucking bruises deep into the skin until you’re squirming. 
“Stop it, Kur–!” You try to protest, but your words are muffled around the tongue that fills your mouth, the fingers digging into your cheeks to hold you in place. Then Bo is hoisting you up a little, letting Kuroo slip your panties and shorts down your shaking legs. You try to kick out, to fight it, but your movements are slow and he catches you by the ankle easily, giving you a cheeky grin before hooking it over his shoulder and pressing a kiss there. 
He works his way up your leg that way, with kisses and sharp hisses of his teeth digging into your skin, his tongue laving over each bite as if that will soothe the pain. Bokuto settles you back against his chest, a large hand dipping down to cup your sex possessively, fingers curling to gently pull you apart and spread you a little wider for Kuroo’s greedy eyes. You try to buck away, but his other arm keeps you locked securely in his lap, sturdy and unmoving.
You feel a new sense of vulnerability that you’ve never felt with them before. Scared and scraped raw like an exposed nerve, shaking as Bo circles your clit with thick fingers. You aren’t very wet, but that doesn’t seem to deter him. Akaashi has just been watching, heavy-lidded with one arm draped across the back of the couch, leaning in close so he can see Tsukishima ravage your mouth, so he can watch Kuroo smother your legs with kisses and hickeys, rapt attention unwavering as Bokuto tries to coax arousal from the hot clench of your cunt.
You’re mortified when he succeeds, the sounds of his fingers gliding between your folds growing slick, louder, your hips twitching against your will. 
“Don’t fight it, sweet thing. Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good, alright? Our girl is gonna have a real nice night.” Kuroo dips down to press one more kiss to the sensitive inside of your thigh, meant to soothe, to placate you, but you just won’t stay still.  
Despite the heavy, sluggish quality to your body, you don’t stop moving. Your hips buck, twist, you try to pull away from the iron arms encircling you from all sides, the lips that ruthlessly claim your mouth again and again every time you manage to get a sliver of space between you.
“Stay still! ” Bokuto groans, voice too thick for his throat, cracking as you continue to rub against his cock in your attempts to get away. He’s whining softly, rutting his hips into you, panting as he kisses along the back of your neck and your shoulders while rolling your clit between slick fingers. 
“Be patient, Bokuto.” Akaashi murmurs, tipping forward to leave his share of kisses along your neck, significantly more gentle than the bruises that Kuroo covers you with. “She’s high, you know she’s more sensitive like this.” 
Tsukishima mutters something into your mouth that sounds vaguely insulting, undeterred when you try again to break away with a loud cry. Once more he pulls you back in, once more he molds the plush of your lips to the shape of his own, and he sucks gently on your tongue in time with the swipe of Bo’s fingers over your clit. It hurts a little with how hard he kisses you, your mouth feeling raw and sensitive to the touch but every time you try to twist away, he only holds you tighter, kisses you harder. 
It’s too much. 
Your chest is heaving now, lashes fluttering as the thick blanket of your high threatens to overwhelm you completely, fracturing any coherent train of thought you try to cling to. Whenever you break the surface, someone is there to push you back under, to keep you contained in the fuzzy headspace that makes you physically pliant, even if your mouth still runs with protests whenever Kei lets you take a breath. 
“It’s been two hours, we’re sure it’s fully set in?” Kuroo asks, finally using his mouth for something other than marking you up. He rests his cheek on your knee, watching with slightly swollen lips curled into a smile as you begin lifting your hips to press against Bokuto’s hand, your brow a little furrowed as Tsukki tries to gentle his kiss, wanting you to reciprocate, needing to feel you kiss him back. 
“She was giggling during the music intermission.” Akaashi points out, slow and soft just below your ear, teeth scraping over the shell of it and making you keen. 
It’s a good enough assurance that they don’t bother to question it further.
Bo chuckles softly, nuzzling the nape of your neck in a gesture that would almost be tender if not for the cruel way he teases your cunt with his fingers, gathering your slick and rubbing circles into your clit with it. “See, baby? It’ll be okay, we’re gonna make you feel good and you won’t even have to remember any of this.” He croons, like that should be comforting to you.
But there's part of you, the small, fragile part of you that’s just coherent enough to understand what he’s saying, that’s just purely terrified.
You whine into Tsukki’s mouth, trembling as you try to force your body to cooperate, to fight back, to move . Pliant, soft, you’re molten in their hands no matter how you try to make yourself get away. Your hips buck, warmth building steadily between your thighs that you wish you could ignore. They work you over gently, insistently. Akaashi runs a hand through Kuroo’s hair, guiding him with a firm grip to move him closer until he’s mere inches from your drooling cunt. He makes a strangled noise that you feel against your slick skin, eyes hazy and half-lidded as he watches you begin to crumble.
It feels good, so much better than even if you were sober, everything feels more intense and it’s like Bo knows exactly how to touch you. 
Like he’s done this before. 
Something cold settles in your gut, hard like a chipped diamond. You whimper again, bringing your hands up slowly to press against Kei’s shoulders, though your effort is abysmally weak. 
Finally, he pulls away. Flushed, panting, glasses a little skewed with his honey eyes heavy-lidded and his pupils blown wide. He moves to cover one of your hands with his own, squeezing gently and bringing it to his lips to kiss your palm. 
It almost feels sweet, but then he’s kissing you again, swallowing your flimsy protest with a needy sound that strikes you hot like a match.
Then you’re being pulled back, a cool and soft hand guiding you by your jaw close enough for Akaashi to kiss you as well. It’s a little messy, the way two mouths like hot silk glide over yours, but something in it stirs heat in your belly, the gentle way Tsukki murmurs in your mouths and rubs your cheek with his thumb. It feels more intimate than it should, romantic in a strange way, even as you mewl and whimper and buck your hips, lost to it all.  
Kuroo groans, low in the back of his throat before he’s straightening up and drawing close enough that you try to break away, but Akaashi holds you firm, not letting you shy away from them, and he murmurs something that sounds like it might be meant as a reassurance, but the words are slick and sticky like syrup, filling your mouth with sugar but doing nothing to ease you beyond that. A hand cups the nape of Tsukishima’s neck, and then Kuroo drags him in for a kiss of his own, giving you just a little more space to breathe before it’s filled with Akaashi’s tongue. 
“Stop.” You whimper, muffled by silken lips, your thighs tensing as you try to move your legs, to kick against Kuroo’s grip in an attempt to gain some kind of leverage to push against, but he just keeps your leg locked tight against his shoulder while Bokuto holds the other one hooked over his knee, forcing you to spread wider until your hips start to burn. 
“But you’re so close, baby.” Bo coos, teasing and almost enamored when he asks– “Don’t you wanna cum? For me?” 
At his words, it seems like everything else comes to a halt, hands frozen in place and lips stilling against yours. Kuroo and Tsukishima separate, with the former leaning back far enough that he can watch, mesmerized, as Bokuto swirls glistening fingers over your clit, sloppy circles that only falter when your bucking hips throw off his rhythm. Akaashi helps to hold you down, keeping you from ruining your own orgasm despite how you practically wail in protest. 
“Close?” Kuroo breathes, eyes bright and wild with something frenzied. “Gonna cum for us, pretty? Want us to watch you cum?” He leans in, inches from your dripping, messy pussy, you can feel the warmth of his breath as he moans softly at the sight before one hand comes down hard on your thigh, a sharp slap that rips a cry from deep in your throat. 
Akaashi lets out a ragged sound and presses closer, panting softly as he reaches out to lay the flat of his palm across your throat. He applies no pressure, just curls his fingers loosely around your neck to feel the thrumming of your pulse and the noises you try to choke back, the vibrations he can feel but cannot hear. “Bokuto.” He rasps, hips twitching, and one of Kuroo’s hands slides up his thigh to palm the hard outline of his cock. It’s blissful, he nearly moans aloud at the relief. “Harder, a little harder.” It’s a soft command, and even unclear as to who he’s speaking to, both of them hurry to obey. 
Kuroo strokes him slowly through his slacks, though his eyes remain locked on your face, watching as your features begin to screw up in a weak attempt at staving off the pleasure foisted upon you. Futile, as Bo presses down just a little harder as Akaashi demanded, tight and measured circles that make you feel like you’re about to simultaneously melt and combust all at once. 
You nearly sob when the pressure between your thighs increases, building rapidly and crawling up from the base of your spine. “Please. ” You beg, voice scratchy and strained, eyes rolling back when it begins to ripple through you, the first flickering touch of your orgasm. 
“Oh, baby, don’t start begging yet.” Kuroo coos, sickly sweet. “We’ve barely started.” 
You’re horribly aware of their eyes on you when you cum, wishing you could drown it out, wishing you could pretend that it’s just you and some faceless figure bringing you to the brink in your inebriated state, but that’s not the case at all, they would never let you forget who is making you feel good. 
Kei is unmistakable, the tight way he squeezes your hand, the burning brand of his focus with you being the sole recipient of his attention. He’s coaxing you along, tipping your chin up to keep you from ducking your head to hide your face, forcing you to bare yourself to them as tears well up along your lashes, glittering.  
Akaashi is praising you. His face buried in your neck, the soft whisper of his moans an echo of his worship. “So beautiful.” He breathes, lips tracing the heady thrum of your pulse. “Look at you, you’re so good for us, so sweet. Do you like it? Does it feel good?” 
His voice drops, then, a low rasp. “ Tell me, tell me it feels good, love, tell me how Bokuto makes you feel.”
You can barely croak out a whimper, shuddering as Bo drags your orgasm out. It’s longer than you’ve ever made yourself cum before on your own, nearly overwhelming to the point of overstimulation even though it hasn’t even ended yet. Weaker, small tremors that flutter through your abdomen, muscles clenching and contracting around nothing, but still enough to leave you breathless and boneless. 
Kuroo shoves Bo’s hand out of the way, impatience rearing its head as he buries his face between your thighs. The slick glide of his tongue is a shock, drawing a sharp, shocked cry from your lips. He shuffles closer on his knees, hooking both your legs up high over his shoulders now while he loses himself in the sticky mess of your cunt, a moan muffled that sends vibrations all the way up your spine. 
You try to scramble away, the shock of oversensitivity bordering on sharp and painful, but Kuroo doesn’t let you move too much. Bokuto spreads your sex apart with his fingers, splitting you apart for the heat of Kuroo’s tongue to glide along the full length of your slit. You buck upwards on reflex, a moan catching in your throat when he meets you halfway, pressing you back down before you can try to squirm away from the greedy pull of his mouth. 
“Too much!” You choke, blinking back the sting of tears in your eyes, vision blurring sharply. His mouth is too hot, the pressure too much when he sucks on your clit. It’s surprisingly gentle, all things considered, but you’re three edibles deep and it’s still just too much.  
“You can take it, come on baby.” Bokuto encourages you with a warm kiss just below your ear, breaths heavy and thick as you rock back onto his cock, a steady circling of your hips that you’re not even aware of. 
Kuroo cradles you like you’re precious, hands gentle but unyielding while they grind your hips against his mouth, still firm with the way they hold you tight, lifting you to ride the flat of his tongue until your knees are shaking atop his shoulders. 
“She’s close already.” Kei breathes, then swallows a sharp noise when you squeeze his hand mindlessly, your eyes snapping to catch his gaze at the sound of his voice. 
Helpless, he leans in, his breath hitching when you tip your chin up to meet him in the middle. Your hips jerk once, a thick haze spilling over you like hot honey, and then you melt, molten beneath them as Kuroo brings you to the brink. It’s slower, this time, but it feels hotter, brighter, your body coiled up ready to snap with warm hands pressing all over you, bringing you back down when you arch off of Bo’s lap with a cry. 
Kei holds you to him, gasping into your mouth like he’s the one cumming instead of you. He cradles the back of your head lovingly, gentle in a way he’s never been with you before this. Part of you feels a stab of bitterness at the thought, but then he deepens the kiss and you can’t focus on anything else. When you press into it, he moans into you like you’ve just given him his first sip of water in the height of a draught. Even as you’re coming down from your second high, he’s only getting more amped up, harder and harder he kisses you, desperate, hips rocking against nothing in a fruitless pursuit of pleasure. 
Gentle fingers circle your clit, then, and your knees reflexively attempt to clamp shut. Kei nearly whines when you pry your lips apart, and the neediness of his voice would have given you pause if not for the firm insistence of the hand between your legs.  
“Akaashi!” You whine, jerking away when he strokes along the slick glide of your sex. It’s too raw, too sensitive, his touch burns but he leans towards you with a soft murmur and presses a kiss to your jaw. 
“Don’t worry, love.” He hums, tilting his body further inwards to face you, kissing you again to distract you when he slowly pushes a single finger inside of you. It’s easy, the way you seem to suck him in, and his moan is breathy when you tighten up around him. “Still feels good, right?” 
It doesn’t, but he pulls his wrist back slowly, and this time when he presses in it’s with two fingers, crooking gently once he’s all the way inside. 
Slow, methodical, his fingertips ghost over the spot that makes you squirm and his lips quirk into half a smile. “See? You can give us more like this, right?” 
No. No you cannot. You’re sure of it, even as he begins to fuck you slowly, the slick sounds making your face burn with shame even still flushed hot from your high. Already, you can feel your legs twitching, a steady, practiced build that pulls a sob deep from your chest. 
“Please.” You babble, tears welling along your lash line. “Please, it’s too much, ‘Kaashi. Too much. Hurts.” 
To your surprise, he actually listens to you, slowing down and pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that should be comforting, but isn’t. “How bad?” He asks, and Bokuto reaches around to tilt your face up so he can look at you properly, twin expressions of worry that feel out of place with how they’ve been treating you. 
You swallow, for a minute unable to catch your breath, hiccuping around the sobs that you try desperately to stifle. Akaashi croons, slipping his fingers out of you and pulling you close with his other hand. He strokes your spine and kisses all over your face, tasting the salt of your tears on your skin before kissing you once more on the lips with a strange sense of finality. 
As if responding to an unspoken order, Kuroo gets up, and then Bo is lifting you, gently, standing with you held securely in his arms. For the first time tonight you find yourself really looking at him, his flushed face and glassy gold eyes that are dark with blown out pupils. He smiles at you, bringing you closer while leaning his head down to kiss you languidly on the mouth. It’s chaste compared to how Akaashi and Tsukki had bullied you with kisses earlier, but you’re not fooled by the thin veil of sweetness. There’s still tension thick in his muscles, you can feel it in the way he strains to hold himself in check, some non-verbal rule keeping him from acting on whatever pent up desires he’s harboring. 
They take you to your room, with Kei stopping by the kitchen to get a glass of warm water. 
Bokuto lays you down on your bed gently, with Akaashi pulling up a cool sheet over you and brushing the hair from your forehead. Kuroo crawls beneath the covers beside you, pulling you in until your back hits his chest and your curled body is snugly tucked into the space he creates when he wraps himself around you. 
For a moment, you think it’s over. You think that maybe they’re actually backing off, and maybe you can go to sleep and forget any of this ever happened. 
Then Kei crawls onto the bed with you, pushes the sheet up your body until it’s bunched over your stomach, and then parts your thighs slowly to settle between them. He’s broad, forcing your hips to stretch wide just to accommodate him, but the pain of it lessens when he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and uses it as leverage to pull you closer. 
The first gentle lap of his tongue is almost too light for you to feel, lost in the muddled haze that’s trying to pull you to sleep. But he does it again, and again, soft little licks against your sore clit, fingers pressed into the plush of your thighs to keep them open. You try to squirm away, but Kuroo shushes you, one hand sliding from your hip up along your ribs, gathering the material of your shirt and pushing it up. 
“At least let her drink the water you brought for her.” Akaashi sighs, apparently the only remaining voice of reason, and reaches down to lift your head up, tipping the cold glass against your kiss-bruised lips. 
You whimper softly in protest, but even the room temperature liquid feels like ice against your parched throat, soothing the discomfort that felt like sand spilling into your lungs. You drain the whole glass, and then Bokuto is leaning in over Akaashi, pressed against his back to take the cup from him. 
“Do you want more?” He asks, achingly sweet, and were it not for Kei’s head buried between your thighs and Kuroo’s hands cupping your breasts, it would almost feel domestic the way they’re taking care of you. 
“I want you to stop.” You breathe, your chest heaving once when a gentle pressure pulls at your clit. Unthinking, you look down to catch Kei’s gaze, with his half-lidded eyes and glasses pushed atop his head to keep his bangs out of the way. He muffles a moan against you and shoves himself a little more insistently between your legs, trying to crawl as close as possible without being inside of you. For now. 
“Don’t want to.” He mumbles, even knowing your statement had been directed towards Bokuto. It doesn’t really hurt, he’s lapping at you with such little force behind each glide of his tongue, it just feels hot and wet, slippery as your arousal begins to smear along his face and the insides of your thighs. He’s making a mess, but it doesn’t seem like he even cares enough to notice, small little noises that you can’t hear spilling from his lips directly into the sticky folds of your cunt. 
You feel it begin to build slowly, and you nearly sob at the first tremor of pleasure that rolls through your body. Your face screws up, the muscles in your abdomen coiled taut in an attempt to stave it off, but the edibles betray you. You’re pliant, sensitive, and no matter how you try to shift or move to escape, there’s a pair of hands waiting to keep you pinned down, forcing you to simply endure . 
You’re slack, languid beneath them when Akaashi moves down the bed to join Kei between your legs. They’re stretched as wide as they can go, your hips burning, the leg previously draped over Kei quickly moved to Akaashi’s shoulder instead to make room for him, with the other held in Kuroo’s grasp to open you up just a little more.  
Bokuto takes the chance to kiss you, displeased that he hasn’t had the chance to do it as much as the others.  It’s messier, his tongue eager as it explores your mouth, slick fingers curled beneath your chin to tip your face this way and that, changing the angle as it pleases him. 
Akaashi is gentle when he presses his fingers into you again, unperturbed by the wet passing of Kei’s tongue. You squirm, whining at the brief flare of something sharp and sensitive, but Bo murmurs into your mouth to try and distract you, to placate you. 
Kuroo is content to watch, grinding lazily against your ass while palming the soft swell of your breasts, the rough pads of his fingertips ghosting over your nipples to make you quiver. You’re caged in on all sides, the stimulation is almost overwhelming, and yet as close as you teeter along the edge of too much, they don’t actually cross it this time. Akaashi’s fingers grind gently into your sweet spot, and then he’s up, leaning across your torso where Kuroo meets him half-way for a kiss, but he doesn’t stop fucking into you even still.
You’re a little dazed at the sight of them, delirious from the intensity of it all, watching as Kuroo fists a hand in Akaashi’s hair and yanks on it, dragging a moan from the man with his fingers buried in your cunt. He pulls harder, swallowing each little noise Akaashi makes with an echoing moan of his own. It’s surreal, and then Bo nips at your lips with his teeth in a bid for your attention, muffling a whine by sucking the tip of your tongue into his mouth. 
Bo tastes sweet, like some of the cherry flavored candy he’d stolen from you earlier, and your mind tilts on its axis at the dizzying thought that you’ve kissed 3 of your best friends in one night.
“Can taste her on you.” Akaashi murmurs into Kuroo’s mouth, voice thick and hoarse with arousal. His fingers crook sharply, driving into you a little harder, the sound loud and messy even over the ringing in your ears, the buzz and the layers of fluffy, dreamy cotton. 
Bokuto groans softly and pulls away from you, a sticky, wet sound that makes you flinch when you part, and the saliva on your lips cools rapidly, strings of it connecting you still. He grins, a dopey sort of smile, before he’s leaning across you towards Kuroo. “Let me taste it.” He pleads softly, eagerly, as polite as you’ve ever heard him. Akaashi moves first, with a smile, guiding Bo in by the jaw to join their kiss. 
You wonder if you’re dreaming at this point, if you passed out somewhere along the way and this is just a strange figment of your imagination that the edible has conjured. You watch, enraptured by the sight of them kissing above you, pulling each other in by fistfuls of hair and muffling the soft moans that threaten to spill free. 
Kei suckles gently on your clit, the first sharp stimulation he’s given you, and your back arches high off the bed, though it’s quickly pushed down by a random pair of hands. You can’t even tell who’s touching you anymore, it’s all blurring together. Unbidden, you reach down to tangle your fingers into his hair, blonde silk wrapped around your hand tight enough that when you tug, he gasps. His hips grind hard into the bed when you pull on it, swallowing back another moan when you keep pulling until you have his attention. He gives it to you, eyes glassy but ultimately entirely focused on your face. 
“Tsukki…” You whine, rolling your hips and keening when he holds the flat of his tongue steady for you to grind against. “Gentle…” 
You can feel the way he grins, the shaky breath he lets out at your acquiescence. As if, in some twisted way, he takes this as permission granted.
“Okay.” He agrees, barely audible. “Gentle.” 
Though you hadn’t thought they were paying attention, Akaashi slows down as well, massaging the gummy spot inside of you instead of fucking into it. His fingers are so long and lithe, cool before but now warmed and slick from being buried inside the needy squeeze of your cunt. 
Impossibly, they manage to wring one more orgasm from your tired, buzzing body. The three of them separate when Kei murmurs aloud that you’re getting close, with Bokuto returning to your side and Akaashi retaking his spot between your legs. Kuroo snuggles into your back, cooing sweetly in your ear and helping you grind into Kei’s mouth by pushing into your hips with his own, purring out praise while watching you ride the slick heat of his tongue. 
You move along with him mindlessly, allowing Kuroo to grind into your ass so he can control the pace for you. Kei squeezes your hips with fingers that tremble, his voice pitching a little higher when Kuroo has you fucking yourself on his tongue. He presses his mouth to you with a near whine, brows knitted tight together as he begins rutting against the bed in earnest, unable to help himself when he can tell that you’re seconds from cumming in his mouth. 
“Wanna cum, pretty?” Bo asks, pitching forward with his knees digging into the mattress, bowed over you and caging both you and Kuroo in with his arms. This time he gets to see up close, he gets to watch your face when you cum. As much as he loved being able to feel the full-body tremors that ripple through you while you squirmed on his lap, he missed the sight of your pretty face all twisted up in pleasure.  
You don’t answer, can’t answer. Your tongue feels heavy, leaden with honey and sugar, candied. The bees are louder, buzzing bright in your arms and your head, drowning out nearly everyone else. It feels like you’re on fire, and any protests that might have lingered, any desire to stop, all of it falls away. 
They can see it, the way you melt, the way you lean in to silently ask for a kiss from Bo, the way your free hand dips to catch Akaashi by the jaw, stroking the cut of it with gentle, but clumsy fingers. Kuroo grins when he feels you begin to rock back against him, torn between grinding into his cock and fucking yourself against Kei’s tongue. 
“That’s it…” He breathes, calcite eyes bright in the dim lighting of your room. “Let go, baby. We’ve got you, go ahead and get nice and sweet for us.” 
You pull away from Bokuto, breathless, glassy-eyed when you turn to face Kuroo, twisting in his arm just enough that you can reach him easily. It’s difficult, and a little awkward, but Kei has a bruising grip on your thighs that keeps you from turning onto your back. Kuroo smiles at you, a little questioningly, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek and slowing the forceful push of his hips to give you a chance to speak.  
“Kiss?” You murmur, your voice catching when Bo’s head dips down to litter kisses atop your breasts, lashes fluttering as another pulse of hot pleasure courses through you. You know you shouldn’t be asking for this, but you can’t think of anything beyond wanting to feel good, the mindless pursuit of all of the pleasure that they’re willing to give you. You don’t care about why it’s happening anymore, that they weren’t giving you a choice, the only thing that matters is how they’re making you feel. 
He groans quietly and props himself up to lean over you. “I would love nothing more.” 
Kuroo’s kiss is intense, the way he squeezes your cheek with one hand, pulling you into him with a soft, aching noise muffled against your lips. He swallows your cries when you try to babble out that you’re going to cum, tasting the lingering flavors mingling from all the other kisses you’ve shared tonight with the others and steadfastly ignoring your pitching voice. You pull harder on Kei’s hair, feeling him groan against you before one of his hands wraps around yours, coaxing you into doing it again. You do, fisted at the roots and trying to drag him closer even though there’s nowhere left for him to go. 
“You’ll make him cum by doing that.” Kuroo croons, both a warning and a tease. “Careful, baby, Tsukki likes when you get rough with him, lets him know that he’s making you feel good.” 
In response, Kei lets out a whine into your pussy, muffled but high and needy, desperation raw on his face as he looks up at you through sunkissed lashes. It’s so unlike him, so different from the passive looks he’d given you earlier, disinterest feigned from across the room. Akaashi twists his wrist, fingers curling inwards until your back is bowing off the mattress and Bo has to pin you back down. He grins, head cocked, blue eyes glinting as he lowers his mouth to lap at your clit, and Kei stops just long enough to share a kiss with him before they take turns mouthing at your twitching cunt. 
You break, coiled taut like a rusted spring that snaps against the pressure. 
Bo sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth when you cum, feeling the way you twitch and spasm in his arms, watching your legs quiver with the effort of straining to slam shut, only kept apart by the two men sprawled between them and the hand keeping one hitched up to the side. He watches with pinpricked eyes as Kuroo’s tongue glides into your mouth, opening you up so that they can hear the way you murmur and gasp with pleasure as you ride it out.
They guide you through your orgasm slowly, gentle fingers and eager tongues, with Bokuto and Kuroo alternating between kissing you and each other, and with Kei and Akaashi trading off between suckling gently at your clit while the latter continues to abuse your sweet spot with his fingers. You’re spinning, floating, cradled along the surface of the ocean as you begin to lose the sense of whose hands are on you. Faceless, formless, little more than the pressure that bleeds hot and sweet between your thighs. 
It takes you a long time to come down, to come to, with saccharine lips pressing small kisses into your hair and all over your face. There are slick, steady fingers still grinding into you slowly, less for the sake of pleasure and more to offer a push and pull that you follow mindlessly with your hips, and when your eyes flutter open you find Bo waiting with a small smile. It widens when you look up at him, then dims as he lowers himself to kiss you. 
“Do you need a break, love? That seemed like a bit much.” Akaashi asks in a quiet murmur, carefully pulling his fingers out of you and scooting further up the bed, straddling one of your thighs while reaching to cup your face and tip it towards him so he can see you better, hooded navy eyes almost deceptively sleepy as they take you in.
Bo catches Akaashi’s wet hand by the wrist, humming as he brings it towards his mouth, the pink of his tongue startlingly bright when it flicks out to glide along his middle finger to gather the lingering taste of your arousal. You can’t even muster the sense of self to be embarrassed, too far immersed and merely coasting along the line of consciousness, but Kuroo groans quietly at the sight and you feel him throbbing against you. Akaashi kisses you, cradling your jaw with his free hand since the other is currently occupied. You taste yourself on his lips, his tongue, though the potency has lessened with all of his shared kisses.
Kei sits up, absentmindedly wiping his mouth on his shoulder while watching you, flushed and with mussed up hair, his glasses all tangled up in it. Kuroo snickers, reaching out to gently remove the frames from atop his head and setting them safely on the nightstand on his side of the bed. 
For a moment, they do let you breathe. Bokuto leaves to get you all some water, Akaashi helps you drink it, and Kei lays between your legs with his head resting on your stomach, pressing tender kisses into your skin to soothe you, mindful of the way you twitch and convulse beneath his weight. 
It’s comforting, in a way, and almost enough to make you forget how all of this started in the first place.
Then Bokuto is moving, kissing you once on the lips before withdrawing from your side to stand at the foot of your bed. Your eyes flutter open when Kei lets out a strangled, high-pitched noise, and you look up to see Bo dragging him back by the hips until he’s propped up on his elbows and knees, scowling but painfully hard, a dark stain spreading out from his crotch from where he’d been rubbing against your sheets while eating you out. All the friction has bunched up the material of his sweats, and the head of his cock pokes out from the waistband with a thick drop of prespend beading at the tip. He looks at you, sees you staring, and chokes on a noise caught between embarrassment and yearning. 
“Come on, might as well give her a show while she’s taking a break.” Bokuto grins, a little wolfish as he grinds his hips hard into Kei’s, rutting shamelessly as greedy hands pull at his waist to yank him back on every forward thrust. Kei's jaw is gritted, flushed to the temples as he tries to avoid spilling too early when Bo tugs his cock free, though he can’t help fucking into the tight clench of his fist despite himself. 
“Look at that, you got him all worked up, pretty.” Kuroo murmurs, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Never seen him act like such a slut, I guess he couldn’t hold back anymore.”
Akaashi kisses you once, hot and thorough as he licks the seam of your lips until you part for him. But it doesn’t last long, he pecks you once more, and then Kuroo, before he’s sliding off of the bed to help Bokuto strip Kei down, gentle hands followed by quick kisses after each article of clothing is removed. 
Kei is flustered, you note distantly, some far off part of you recognizing his embarrassment. Flushed and pointedly avoiding your gaze, his eyes stubbornly locked onto your sheets, the muscles in his arms tensing as he holds himself up. You’re enamored with this new side of him, the greed and the surprising shyness both.
Acting on impulse, you scoot further down to join them at the foot of the bed, slipping beneath where Kei is bent over with your legs spread around his parted knees, his hands fisted in the sheets above your shoulders. Bo, leaning over his back, grins down at you and blows you a kiss that seems nearly comical despite the situation. 
Then again, you’ve completely lost touch with how the situation is supposed to feel to begin with, perhaps it’s not comical at all. You loop your arms around Kei’s neck, shivering when Bokuto dips down to kiss your fingers sweetly. 
Akaashi takes your spot at the head of the bed, curled against your pillows and leaning into Kuroo’s arms, the two sharing slow, lazy kisses while watching the three of you through foggy eyes. 
Weight presses down on you when Kei’s arms buckle, a sharp moan spilling across your clavicle when Bo begins working him open with slick, thick fingers. His hips rock slowly against nothing, back curved into a pretty arch with a heavy hand pressed into his lower back. He kisses you, messily, a smear of lips and tongue leaving a path of heat from your mouth down between your breasts. 
Then he’s cupping the sides of your head, caging you in with his arms as he leans in to kiss you properly. He uses you to muffle the way he cries out at the first press of Bokuto’s cock, burning hot even through the condom wrapped around him. You’re a little dizzy, shocked at this version of Kei, wanton in a way you’ve never seen. His lips are shiny and a little swollen from the force of his kisses, face flushed as though he’d sprinted a marathon, a light sheen of your arousal covering his cheeks down to his jaw. Between your bodies, his cock twitches when he realizes you’re just staring at him, and the little noise that he lets out when he breaks away from you is addictive. High and sweet, so unlike your Kei that you feel enamored with it, wanting him to make that sound again. 
“Stop looking at me like that.” He breathes, pants against your lips, brow furrowed in an expression tinged with shame and excitement as he tries to avert his eyes. 
“But you’re so pretty, Kei.” You murmur, voice cracked and whispery, the first words you’ve managed to choke out in what feels like hours. It’s sweet praise, and you find yourself tangling your fingers into his hair to pull on it the way you now know he likes, a twist and a tug until his head snaps back and his whole body shudders above you. His eyes blow wide, and Bo is the only one who gets to watch the way his pupils bloom and contract wildly. 
“F-fuck!” He gasps, hips canting back to meet Bokuto’s thrusts, his cock throbbing weakly as it bobs in the air just above your stomach. Pearly fluid beads at the tip, dribbling down the thick shaft with every dry thrust of his hips into nothing, swaying every time Bo’s hips slap against his ass. You can’t look away, even when he tries to cover your eyes with a shaky hand, it’s easily knocked to the side by Kuroo, who has shuffled forward to kneel beside the two of you. He and Bo share a look, mischief lurking in twin pools of honey, before his attention is on you. 
He presses a kiss to Kei’s shoulder, though his eyes are on you when he asks– “How about we help him with that, baby? Wanna?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, fingers lacing with yours before bringing your hand up to meet hot, slick flesh. Kei is like a brand against your palm, twitching at your touch and dripping with the pre that’s steadily dribbled out of him ever since he first got to put his hands on you. 
“Kuroo–you– fuck !” Kei groans when Kuroo tightens his grip, forcing the clench of your fingers to wrap around him snugly, so tight that he has to rely on Bo’s hard, punched out thrusts to force his cock into your fist. 
“There we go.” Akaashi’s voice is closer than you expect, you hadn’t even felt the mattress shifting beneath him as he moved. “Doesn’t that feel better, Kei?” 
He kneels at your side on the floor, eye-level and watching aptly as your thighs begin to twitch, with you attempting to rub them together to alleviate the ache building deep in your belly. He doesn’t miss the way you begin to rock against nothing, though the whole of your attention is on the man hovering over you, the way his face screws up tight, the sweat dripping down his neck. 
You pull him down by his hair so you can follow a droplet of sweat with your tongue as it rolls down the column of his throat, squeezing his cock a little tighter and rubbing your thumb against the drooling slit as you taste the salt of his skin, tracing its path back up the arch of his throat to his jaw. He gasps, his hips stuttering, and then Bokuto lets out a breathy laugh and starts fucking him harder. 
“What’s got you all tight like that, Tsukki?” He teases, setting a bruising pace that doesn’t seem to affect him nearly as much as it should. He’s flushed, sweaty, but his eyes are bright and he shows no signs of fatigue, no signs of slowing down. Still, he claws at Kei’s waist with mounting desperation, moaning freely and loudly as he pulls even harder on his hips, dragging him back onto his cock a little rougher each time.
You’ve always thought Bokuto was attractive, but you’ve never seen him quite like this. Primal, in a sense, lost to his passions and swept up in them without a thought to repercussions or the aftermath. He uses Kei almost like a toy, a bruising grip on his hips, thoughtlessly shoving the blonde’s legs further apart with his knees to finetune the position however he wants. Dominant in a way that isn’t aggressive, he handles control like a well-worn tool that fits perfectly in his hand. 
And he is controlling, even blissed out and near incoherent, you can tell that much. If he thinks Kei is getting too greedy, he slows down, until his gentle thrusts aren’t even enough to force Kei’s cock through your fist, waiting until his voice begins to pitch high with tangible desperation to go faster. If either of them start to get close, he stops completely, tracing the graceful arch of his spine with kisses to distract them both from the way Bo throbs, hot and thick inside of him. He controls how much pleasure Kei receives, and while there’s not a single person in your room that could be considered weak, Bokuto is physically the most capable. There’s no fighting back against him when there’s something he wants. 
“K–Kou fuck, slow do–wn!!” Kei hisses, jaw clenched so tight that he looks like he’s in pain. His arms brace against the sides of your head, fisting the sheets and pulling as if that will give him any amount of leverage, but with Kuroo using your hand to stroke his cock, and with Bo drilling into his prostate, he’s overwhelmed and outnumbered.  
And Kuroo is all too happy to quicken the pace as well, forcing you to stroke Kei on the same beat that Bo fucks into him, speeding up and slowing down at his whim while steadfastly ignoring the way it makes him cry. 
The two of them working in sync should be setting off warning bells, nothing good ever comes from their cooperation, but all you can focus on is how pretty Kei looks when he’s like this, when his whole body is quivering from the onslaught of pleasure attacking him on all sides.
“Close!” He grits out, helpless but to continue fucking the tight squeeze of your fist, his chest heaving at the overwhelming stimulation, breath catching in his lungs and coming up ragged, torn. Part of you feels vindicated, in a way, watching the tears that bead along his lashes, the high flush that bleeds all the way down to his chest, the way it’s clearly both too much for him and not enough. 
His head dips, forehead bumping against yours as his body is rocked to the rhythm of Bokuto’s thrusts. “Please. ” He whispers, as softly as possible, for only you to hear. Then he tips his chin up, lips seeking yours, and you let him kiss you to muffle any pretty noises that try to slip free. 
Kei is silent when he finally cums, more of his weight pressing down on you when he can no longer support himself, thrusting weakly into your hand with Kuroo keeping the pace, forcing him to take it faster than he wants. It’s when the sensitivity hits that he starts to make noise, whining into your mouth and trying to shy away from your hand, then hissing when that only pushes him back onto Bo’s cock. There’s nowhere for him to run, forced to take everything that he’s given even when it becomes too much.
His whole body shakes with the force of it, broad and hot and pinning you down into the mattress as he ruts forward uncontrollably, aided by the force of the hard thrusts fucking him open that threaten to render him just as boneless as you, just as pliant. 
His cum is liquid fire as it paints your stomach, hot and dripping down your ribs to seep into your sheets. He licks into your mouth, and you can taste yourself on him when he does, when he sucks at the very tip of your tongue before you feel the teasing bite of teeth. You whine, back arching, and he lets out a hoarse chuckle as though he isn’t bent over you, still filled thick with Bokuto, as if he isn’t on the verge of tears himself from all of the pleasure.  
He throbs in your hand, softening against your palm even though he continues to rut against it, though whether or not it’s of his own initiative or Bokuto’s, you can’t really tell. 
Cold fingertips brush over your stomach, catching you off guard and alerting you to the fact that Akaashi is now leaning with his elbows pressed into the mattress, closer, heavy-lidded and flushed to the chest while watching the four of you. You swallow hard at the sight of him, the predatory glint in his eyes, the way he seems to smirk beneath the shadow cast over the lower half of his face. “Miss me? You look like you’re having fun, love.” He coos, fingers dipping into the pooling cum on your belly, smearing the thick liquid around and then guiding some of it up to your lips. You part for him thoughtlessly, mindlessly obedient as he presses down on your tongue. The taste of salt and something a little bitter fills your mouth, but it’s not unpleasant, and the look on Kei’s face while he watches you swallow it almost makes you wish you could take a picture. 
“Good girl.” Akaashi hums, and something in you swells at the praise. He does it again, though this time he’s kissing you before you can swallow, licking into your mouth where the cum has pooled and mixed with your saliva. It should be gross, it probably is gross, but then he’s smiling down at you and petting your hair and you’ve completely lost most of your inhibitions anyway, what’s one more?
Kei’s head falls against your shoulder, letting out a hoarse cry and fucking his hips forward to rut his cock against your palm. You realize, a tad late, that Kuroo hasn’t let up, using you to continue stroking even after Kei had finished. Previously softened and spent, he’s thickened out to fill the grip of your fist once more, throbbing like he’s already on the edge.  
“Come on, Tsukki.” Kuroo croons, voice dripping with something both saccharine and mocking. “Our pretty girl gave us three of those, you can give us one more, right?” 
Sparks light up in your abdomen, muscles tightening, your thighs instinctively trying to rub together even though they’re parted wide around the blonde atop of you, and Akaashi gives a small, dark grin when he sees the shock of want in your eyes. You’re blind to it, drawn in helplessly by the way Kei squirms and writhes over you, resting his forehead against your shoulder with his upper body pinning you down, the only thing keeping him up being the unrelenting grip Bokuto has on his hips.  
“Fuck her, Kei.” 
Bokuto and Kuroo stop in sync, causing Kei to choke out a sob of relief that he muffles against your neck. You flex your fingers sluggishly, sore from being squeezed so tightly for so long. Three pairs of eyes are locked onto Akaashi, a silent question hanging in the air while you distract yourself with trying to regain feeling in your static-laden arms. He smiles, tips his head towards you as if that would help them see what he has.
A fruitless gesture, Akaashi is better at reading your body language than anyone. 
When that doesn’t clarify anything for them, Akaashi elaborates with a small, fondly exasperated sigh. “She wants Kei to fuck her.” 
It clicks, and Kuroo’s answering smile is almost evil. “Oh does she?” He squeezes your hand tightly, something hard glinting in his eyes when Kei gasps out a strangled moan. “She wants him to fuck her while his cock is all raw like that? What a mean girl we have.”  
The flush from Kei’s face seems to pale, though he throbs lewdly against your hand despite the panic. “I can’t, not yet, I’m still too sensitive.” He protests, but he bites his lip, chews on it while his eyes dip down to the sticky folds of your cunt, looking like there isn’t a single thing in the world he wants more than to bury himself to the hilt inside of you.
Bokuto practically purrs, a low and sensual noise as he rolls his hips, the promise of even more pleasure driving him to keep fucking into the writhing body pinned beneath him. “I think it’s a great idea.” He grins, crooked, eyes half-lidded but far from glassy. “Don’t you wanna feel good, Tsukki? Wanna feel our princess all wrapped around you?”
Before Kei can answer, Kuroo cuts in smoothly, voice like hot velvet and chocolate. “If you don’t want to be the first to fuck her, I’ll gladly take your place.” 
If you were at all coherent, you might be able to feel the temperature drop, the tension spiking to dangerous levels, the way Kei’s eyes narrow to slits and Kuroo grins like a cheshire cat. 
You blink up at them when Akaashi tilts your face up, owl-eyed and dazed, struggling to break through the thick fog to process what they’re talking about. You’re too far gone, though, slipping deeper into a heavy, fuzzy space, blanketed with something warm and plush that is doubly reinforced by your high. 
“She’s never been in this deep before.” Kuroo muses, rubbing a thumb over your cheek and marveling at the instinctive way you turn to glance at him, your mouth parting when the digit grazes over your bottom lip. He coos, soft, and dips down to take advantage by kissing you. 
Akaashi’s voice turns from silken to sour. “I tried to warn her that taking three was too much, but she never listens to me.” 
Bo grins, bright and sunny, but the words that fall from his lips are anything but. “If she didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to do this though! So it’s like, making the best of a bad situation, right?” 
Chuckling softly, Kuroo guides your hand to bring the slick head of Kei’s cock to the messy, dripping heat of your cunt, tapping it against your clit and groaning when it comes away with thick strings of your arousal still attached. Kei hisses between clenched teeth and claws at the bed, pulling at the sheets until they’re longer tucked neatly beneath your mattress, forced to endure as Kuroo plays with the slick drooling from your pussy and his cock.
Tap, tap, tap. Over and over, with Akaashi watching intently to see how far away Kei’s cock can get before the glistening strands of fluid snap. Toying with you, toying with Kei, though you’re too far gone to realize it, focusing instead on the myriad of expressions flashing over his face. 
Annoyance is prevalent, but far overshadowed by lust, embarrassment, his eyes darting back and forth between your face and the fuckery going on between your legs. He likes looking at it, you can tell, but it gets him worked up too quickly so he can’t let himself stare for long. 
The first press of the blunt head sinking into you is easy, made so by the copious amounts of arousal and spit that have long since cooled. Kei lets out a loud, relieved moan as Kuroo guides him into you, hands balled into fists with his brows drawn low, the space between his knees widening as he uses them to shove yours further apart. 
It’s slow at first , but then Bokuto readjusts his grip on Kei’s hips, bends down to leave a trail of kisses along his spine, and then he snaps forward in a single thrust that ends with both of you being filled to the brim, all the way to the hilt in one fluid stroke. 
Your eyes roll back, a hard shudder wracking your body as you scrabble for something to cling to with a scream catching in your throat. Akaashi meets you, clasping your hands with his and bringing them back to pin against the mattress above your head, forcing your back into a gentle arch. 
“Kou!” You wail, teary eyes glaring up him before your lashes flutter when Kei begins to grind into you, circling his hips to try and fuck you as well as he can while being pinned between two bodies.  
He’s no better off, broad shoulders trembling as he bows over you, trying in vain to muffle his voice by kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your throat, though it only makes him sound even needier, the way he mewls and whines while sucking a burgundy mark over your rapid pulse.
Bokuto laughs, breathless, and leans back on his heels so he can watch the two of you squirm. “Yeah, baby?” He asks, all sweet spun sugar and puffy clouds. “Whaddya want? More? You want more?” 
You try to shake your head, the room spinning dangerously when you do, but you’re wholly ignored. Bokuto fucks into Kei faster, harder, pinning him down against you and leaving you both with little more to do than just lay there and take it. 
It feels so good , though. It’s more of a grind, because Bo won’t let Kei pull back far enough to actually thrust into you, and you can feel the first flickers of a budding orgasm race up your spine even though you’d thought yourself incapable of cumming again. 
Kei isn’t doing nearly as well. He’s clinging to you, moaning into the hollow of your throat while trying to roll his hips, his cock aching for more friction than either of you are giving him. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, the blush staining his skin a mottled red bordering on scarlet. When he looks at you, it’s with an expression nearly as lost as your own, glassy and distant, though he doesn’t have the comforting haze of a high to cradle him. It’s all agonizing pleasure, the hard pound of Bo’s cock digging into his prostate, the wet, clingy grip of your pussy wrapped around him, and even though he’s this sore he feels like he might die if he doesn’t cum inside of you.
You tip your head back, your lashes fluttering as you try to blink through the haze to find who you’re looking for and Kuroo is there to meet you, checking in while Akaashi coos and kisses all over Kei. 
“You okay?” He asks, nosing into your jaw and kissing you there. “What do you need, baby? Water?” 
You dip your chin to try and catch his mouth, and his laughter is muffled when you succeed. His fingers thread gently into the hair at the nape of your neck, using it to guide you into the kiss, the only thing keeping you steady while Bokuto indirectly jostles your body with the force of his thrusts. It feels like you’re made of air. Incorporeal, barely a concept despite the burning pleasure pulsing between your thighs, the only thing to keep you even semi-coherent. The pleasure is the only thing that’s tangible, and they show no signs of letting up any time soon. 
Akaashi and Kuroo trade places, or rather, they change who they’re being sweet on. Kuroo cups Kei’s face gently, thumbs swiping over teary cheeks and kissing him soundly, though instead of letting him stifle his pretty voice like you were, Kuroo licks into his mouth to keep it open, each needy whine and gasp plainly audible even over the harsh slap of skin on skin. 
Cool lips ghost along your sweaty temple, shocking and grounding you with the abrupt change in temperature, the fingers pressing your wrists into the mattress are massaging your hands gently, keeping you from slipping too far into some off-strung abyss. 
When you tilt your head back in an open invitation to ask wordlessly for a kiss, Akaashi lowers himself to you easily, parting your lips with a flick of his tongue and then drinking in the soft noises you make when Kei’s cock is grinded into you. Greedy, he tightens his hold on your wrists and pins them down a little harder, even though in your current state there’s no real hope of you resisting. It’s the feeling that he’s addicted to, holding you down, knowing intrinsically that you’re completely at his mercy, he revels in it. 
But when he kisses you, there’s none of that. He keeps it contained in his hands, his eyes, the heavy throb of his cock as it strains against the material of his boxers, but you can’t feel any of it. His lips on yours are silken, a caress, you’d be tempted to think it loving if you could think at all.
It’s nice, pleasant, but then Kuroo is taking advantage of your faintly arched back by shoving a pillow beneath your hips to prop you up a little more. The change in angle is staggering, and Kei swears out loud when you start to clench up around him, the head of his cock practically glued to that gummy spot on your inner walls, and each hard thrust from Bokuto makes you keen. 
“There it is.” Kuroo purrs, leaning back into your space to cup Akaashi’s jaw, sharing a kiss that is much sweeter than they gave either of you.
“Holy fuck I think I’m gonna cum.” Bokuto rasps, groaning softly and pressing his forehead into Kei’s back, his pace stuttering as he tries staving off his orgasm. “So good, so good. ” 
His head falls back, throat bobbing obscenely around a hard swallow, bangs falling in his face from where the gel keeping his hair spiked had begun to dissolve. He looks disheveled, flushed all the way down to his chest, but still he’s the only one who’s eyes remain crystal clear. Bo is entirely alert, even while utterly wrecking Kei, and you by proxy, he’s in complete control of himself.
Which is why he slows to a stop, not to edge himself, but to grab Kei by the hips and yank him backwards, forcing him to support his own weight with his elbows bracketing you in, then pushing forward, again and again, back and forth to force Kei into fucking the two of you instead. Every time he’s pulled back, the slick, greedy pull of your pussy tries to suck him back in, and when he’s shoved forward to the hilt inside of you, Bo unconsciously seeks him out, thrusting forward and disrupting the rhythm, and then it repeats. 
Bokuto’s focus is on you while he does it, almost silently insisting that you watch as he manhandles Kei into moving how he wants, wanting to show you how easily he strings the taller figure along to his whims, making a show of how he has as little to say in this as you do. Maybe even less, though you have no way of knowing the lengths they would go to in order to please you. 
Kei makes a strange, wobbly noise at the sudden increase in friction, all too quickly feeling overwhelmed and sensitive, the loud slap of his ass as it smacks into Bo’s thighs rings between your ears, hard and fast and faster faster faster–
Kei screams when he cums this time, and it feels so hot inside you that you think you’ve been branded. He fumbles at your jaw with his hands, fingers curling around your chin to try and hold you in place while he kisses you, messy and open mouthed, panting and choking back strangled sobs when Bokuto still doesn’t let up, forcing him to ride it out. You try to reach for him, feeling like you’re in a game that’s running three frames a second, slow and squirming against Akaashi’s grip. 
“‘Kaashi.” You whine, blinking with glassy eyes up at him, trying to convey that you want him to let you go so you can touch Kei. 
He hums thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side in a show of consideration that you’re sure is fake, false contemplation that drags it out. Kei whines at the loss, mouthing at your jaw in a bid for your attention, though it’s messy and uncoordinated. 
“Say please.” Akaashi tells you, stroking his thumb over the pulse fluttering in your wrist, a wave of shivers sending gooseflesh rising along your arms. Kei’s lips move to your neck, sucking, nipping, lost as he tries fruitlessly to muffle his wanton voice against your sweat-slicked skin. 
“Please.”  
Akaashi releases you, and you immediately reach up towards Kei and curve your hands against the hard cut of his jaw, molding them to the shape of his face while you kiss him. He blinks at you, bleary-eyed, then whimpers into your mouth when you tighten around him. 
“Too much.” He croaks, forced to keep fucking you, raw and sensitive and Bo just won’t let up.  
Akaashi pulls him in for a kiss next, and when Kei moans into his mouth he echoes the sound softly, a push and pull as he’s moved around however the other wants him. 
“Baby.” Bokuto calls for you quietly, voice breaking on the last syllable, and when you look up at him his face is flushed dark and his eyes are pleading. Desperate, and he can no longer stand the slow pace of Kei rocking back onto his cock, he needs more.   
You lift your head, meeting him half-way for a kiss that he nearly growls into, bent over Kei’s back and pushing him down with a hand at the base of his spine. You’re pressed harder into the mattress as Kei is pinned against you fully, no longer able to support any of his weight with Bokuto fucking into him with rapidly rising fervor, the slap of his hips leaving the sensitive skin of his ass a bright, vivid red. Your lips are almost numb, aching from the plethora of harsh kisses you’ve been given, and this one is no different, his mouth burns against yours, bruising the soft swell of your lips until he has to rip himself away with a loud, high-pitched whine. His hips stutter, slowing, trying desperately to reign himself in but the sight of you and Kei so thoroughly blissed and fucked out is too much. 
Despite Bo clearly being on the brink, you’re the next one to cum. It’s unexpected and quick, a shock of pleasure that has your legs clamping inwards, trying to snap shut as you arch your back and scream . For a moment, you have a stark flash of clarity, bright and hot as a horribly sharp orgasm cuts its way through you. Kei makes a harsh noise when you squeeze around him, tight and sucking him in even though he’s already as far as he can get. 
It’s dragged out even longer for the both of you when Bokuto finally cums with you, hips bucking hard and deep as he pounds relentlessly into Kei, bruising handprints coloring low on his waist that are going to linger for days as a reminder. You reach for him, mindless, whimpering at the way Kei’s pelvis grinds against your clit with every hard thrust he’s forced to take. The tips of your fingers meet stubble, then they curve beneath the cut of Bo’s jaw, curling to try and coax him into coming closer. He does, falling over Kei’s back and wrapping around him, chin on his shoulder as he ducks down to kiss you. It’s hot, and you feel like three weighted blankets have been thrown overtop of you, but then his whole body goes slack and he slumps over to the side to take some of the weight with him.
Kuroo catches him before he can fall, keeping the large spiker from collapsing on top of the two of you, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead and kissing him there. He lowers him slowly, so that he’s laid out across the mattress and can catch his breath, chest heaving but with a satisfied, almost smug smile on his face when he catches your eye. 
Kei is heavy, completely slack, hips still rocking gently into you even though Bo is no longer there to make him keep going. His face is buried in your neck, murmuring some sort of incoherence that you can’t make out with his voice muffled against your skin. 
Akaashi takes pity on you and lifts the large middle blocker to roll him onto his back and off of you, cool hands tilting his face up and checking him over, and you’re finally left to your own devices to breathe for a moment. It’s bliss. 
Everything is sore, cum dribbling out of your abused cunt, still twitching with little contractions that pulse through your core. You have to be covered in bruises, and you’d be dreading looking at your legs to find the remnants of Kuroo’s attack earlier in the living room if you could wrench yourself out of whatever hazy headspace you’ve been left in. 
You breathe slowly, drifting, thick tendrils of exhaustion creeping in now that you’re no longer being moved. It’s easy, almost, to fall asleep, to give in to the edibles deep in your system that have been trying to pull you under for hours now. Briefly, for a few precious minutes, it works, but it doesn’t last for long. 
Someone new settles between your sticky thighs, and you lift your head to see Kuroo grinning down at you, cheeks flushed crimson and his hair pushed back out of his face. 
“Hi, sweet thing.” He coos, and you shiver when the blunt head of his cock slides against your clit, a sharp lance of pain cutting up your spine. 
“Kuroo,” You whine, feeling like your mouth is too dry, too slow, the shapes of words oddly fitted on your tongue. “N’more.” 
There’s more you want to say, or you think there is, but no matter how you try to force the words out, nothing comes. 
He kisses you, soft, but he doesn’t stop grinding against your sore cunt, well-loved and still dripping with Kei’s cum. “You’re not gonna leave Keiji and me unsatisfied, right?” He murmurs against your lips, unable to hide a sly smile when you let out a shaky, shuddering breath. It’s not consent, he knows, but he’ll take you realizing that you don’t have a choice over more resistance. Your subspace had made you pliant, he wants to send you back there, but disturbing you from your little nap brought you to the forefront of your mind, even hazy as it is. 
Akaashi kisses you next, briefly, having moved from his spot on the bed to retrieve a condom from the nightstand. After rolling it on, he situates himself behind Kuroo, pushing down until he’s chest-to-chest with you. You have to crane your head back a little to look up at him, and he smiles down at you, honey eyes already glassy when Akaashi slowly begins to open him up, deft fingers stretching him out patiently. 
Part of you is relieved that you won’t be taking both of them at the same time. 
Another part of you, a small sliver curated by the murky events you’ve endured throughout the night, wishes that you were. 
Unfortunately for you, Akaashi is perceptive, and he catches the second of conflicted emotion that flashes across your face. He smiles, kisses Kuroo on the shoulder once, and then pulls away. 
The latter is confused, almost whining at the loss before he catches himself. “Keiji?” 
“Help me lift her.” Is all he says, moving around back onto the bed. Kei slides out of the way, slow and a little sluggish, but he also helps with sitting you up so Akaashi can slide beneath you on his knees. The change in position has your vision tilting, black dots swimming around even when you try to blink them away. You’re draped over Akaashi’s lap and slumped against his chest, and Kuroo is settled between your thighs, your legs wrapped tight around his waist with his hands squeezing you by the hips to keep you held up against his abdomen instead of resting on Akaashi’s thighs. 
Your head lolls, tired body boneless, and you whimper when the tip of Kuroo’s cock begins to slide into you. It’s a slight stretch, your silken walls pulsing hot around him, fluttering like the wings of a frantic butterfly. He groans low in his chest and ducks down to rest his forehead against your sternum, breathing heavily and trying to keep from bullying the rest of it into you all at once. 
Bokuto passes a bottle of unscented lube to Akaashi, waiting with a cheeky smile until he’s given a kiss before relinquishing his hold on it. 
You’re a little slow to catch on, clutching at Kuroo’s back and digging your nails in just below his shoulder blades. He throbs within you, hips pushing forward in time with his strained exhale as he breathes against you. “Baby…” He warns, cracking. 
Akaashi warms some of the lube between his hands while Kei gets a little more water in you, cupping your cheek and tipping the glass against your lips until it's empty. You feel like a doll, or a marionette with snipped strings, moved around and passed back and forth until you can barely keep track of who is doing what. 
Kuroo takes another slow, heavy breath, and something in the air changes, charges, a small thrill of electricity creeping up the back of your throat with your nerves buzzing wildly. 
When he pushes into you the rest of the way, it’s wet and loud, the squelch of his cock displacing the lube and cum against your walls making you cringe. He circles his hips slowly, fucking into you with little half-thrusts that make you squirm, still far too sensitive to really endure any friction. 
Behind you, Bokuto is fisting Akaashi’s cock with a wild grin on his face, his arm curved solidly around the dip of his waist to keep him upright. “Gotta get you nice and ready, yeah?” He pants, gold eyes bright with something a little frantic. 
Akaashi makes a low, wanting noise, his hips bucking erratically beneath you and his hands squeezing at your waist, as though wanting to bring you back against his cock even though he can’t. Tsukishima drizzles more lube onto him, cold and thick and it makes the quick glide of Bo’s hand even smoother. He speeds up to take advantage of that. 
Part of you wishes you could see it. He sounds wrecked, voice breathy in a way you’ve never heard, quiet moans that only reach you because you’re so close. 
Thankfully, intentionally or not, Bo is almost always in sync with you. “Look at that pretty face, ” He breathes, thick with arousal. “You look so good, ‘Kaashi. So pretty, just like our pretty girl.” A pause, heavy pants and moans plucked from Akaashi’s lips, then– “What’s wrong? My hand not enough for you?” He’s teasing, voice light and playful, Bo doesn’t have it in him to be genuinely degrading. “You wanna be inside her that bad? You’re not usually this impatient, don’t you wanna savor it? Look how Tetsu fucks her, you wanna do it like that?” It drops then, his voice, something low and carnal. “Or do you wanna fuck her harder ?”
You and Akaashi shudder at the same time, swept up in the rough cadence that lingers on your skin. You’ve never heard him talk like that before, though it seems to be working wonders on the man behind you. 
Kuroo catches you in a firm kiss, stealing the brunt of your focus and fucking deeper into you to keep it. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, the heat of his cock like a firm, dull pressure that rubs against you in ways that make you whine. He smiles against your lips, pecks you a few times before lifting you up until just the tip of him is inside, though you unconsciously try to pull him back in. 
“Fuckin’ greedy pussy.” He teases, but his jaw is gritted and his knuckles bleed white as he has to shove down the need to thrust back into you, to give into the needy way you try to suck him in. 
This time when he begins to press forward, Akaashi is there with him, guided too eagerly by Bo’s hands. It’s slow, and he waits until Kuroo is half sheathed within you to start the stretch. The amount of lube almost feels gross, but it makes the sting bearable, and they’re both gentle with you, taking long breaks with Kuroo kissing you as a distraction and Akaashi palming your breasts, fingers gently rolling your nipples so he can feel the way your cunt flutters around him in response. 
Kei kisses you next, and when he parts your lips something sweet like chocolate melts across your tongue. His fingers curl against the nape of your neck so he can tilt his head and then press his lips more firmly against yours, and he licks into you again to fill your mouth with the taste of a strawberry truffle. You lean into it eagerly, chasing the sweetness with little thought to how your body is being gently picked apart by expert hands. 
The burst of sugar brightens you up, clears away some of the sleep that had been layering overtop of you and drawing you in. You cup his face and pull him a little closer, suckling gently on the tip of his tongue until all of the chocolate is gone. He groans when you do, kissing you harder for a short beat before he’s pulling away. 
You try to complain, a whine creeping up your throat that is quickly cut off when Akaashi gives a short, sharp thrust into you, knocking the words from your lips and making you yelp. 
Stretched to the limit, you feel overwhelmingly full with both Kuroo and Akaashi fully hilted within you. Your hips wriggle, an experiment to test how much it will hurt, and a pleasant sharpness pierces your abdomen when you try to move. Kuroo grabs at you with a strained noise, his cock throbbing when you tighten up around them both. 
“Tsukki is already hard again.” Bo teases, but the playfulness of it is overshadowed by the raw desire you see on his face. He presses a hand to your abdomen, fingers stroking the sensitive skin of your belly before it drifts, reaching down between the press of yours and Kuroo’s bodies to gently circle your clit with his fingers, leaning over Akaashi’s back so he can still be close to you all. “You guys look so fucking good like this.” 
Kei shoots Bokuto a sharp, frigid glare that is ignored, instinctively curling inwards on himself as if he feels the need to hide, ashamed of the way his cock bobs with every erratic twitch, angry and swollen as if he hadn’t already gotten off twice. 
Listlessly, mindlessly, you reach out to wrap your trembling fingers around it, relishing in the gasp that catches in his throat. He grabs at your wrist, squeezing tight but not pulling away, knees slowly spreading apart to open himself up when you tilt your face to look at him. His face is flushed like a peach, brows drawn and his lips set in a thin line that barely hides how they tremble. 
After a brief moment, his hand moves, drops to wrap around your fingers and tightening to force them into a fist so he can fuck himself into it. He trembles, overwhelmed but still needing more, and his eyes are glued to the stretch of your pussy as it struggles to accommodate the two men who are hilted inside of you as deep as they can go.    
Bokuto mirrors him, taking your other hand and, after pressing a kiss to the back of it, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. They don’t make you move on your own, simply using your hands to please themselves while watching raptly as Kuroo and Akaashi take turns thrusting into you.
It’s awful, it’s messy, you feel utterly wrecked and debauched and your body sags heavy with the need to lay down and rest. 
And yet, you find yourself turning towards Akaashi, pressing your nose into his cheek to catch his attention. He leans into you, humming softly while slowing the already painfully gentle roll of his hips. They’ve been going so slowly the entire time, carefully alternating their thrusts to avoid hurting you too much.
“More.” You breathe, arching your back and trying to twist your hips a little, messing up their rhythm and making Kuroo choke back a moan. “More, please, Keiji.” 
His hips stutter when you say his name, fingers digging tight into your thighs and holding you in place. His cock throbs inside of you, twitches even harder when Kuroo doesn’t stop fucking into you, the slick glide of it making you both keen. 
“More?” He echoes, equal parts amused, incredulous, and yearning. Gunmetal navy flits up to catch eyes of honey, the two sharing a look before Akaashi’s attention is back on you. “Are you sure, love?” 
You nod, fingers flexing when they begin to ache, drawing deep, agonizing noises from both Bokuto and Kei. The latter tightens his hand to the point that the gripping press of your fist must be painful, but he fucks into it shamelessly, his voice pitching just a little higher as his back starts to curve, shoulders hunched as he leans forward and rests his head against Kuroo’s back. 
Akaashi hums thoughtfully, resting his chin on your shoulder and pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear while watching the myriad of expressions that cross Kei and Kuroo’s faces. He kisses you once more, almost as a warning, before his voice comes out in a soft sigh. “Alright, love. We’ll give you more.”
He rolls his shoulders, adjusts his grip and braces himself a little better on his knees so he has more leverate to fuck you. Gentle, doting Akaashi, he lines the back of your neck with kisses peppering over your skin, letting Kuroo pull you forward until just the tip of his cock remains. Then, he yanks you back down hard enough that the resounding slap! startles you, Kei, and Bo from your daze, They watch, enraptured, as Akaashi fucks up into you, hard and deep thrusts that force you up against Kuroo, pressed into his chest while he pushes on your back to smooth it into an arch. You choke on a ragged scream, feeling like they’re almost in your throat, stretching you wide and leaving you empty in the short half seconds when they’ve withdrawn. 
You’re not even holding yourself up anymore, limp as you have to rely on Kuroo and Akaashi gripping onto your waist, Bo and Kei still squeezing your fingers into a tight circle to fuck themselves into. It’s horribly lewd, and you barely feel like you have any support, but some part of you is aching for more of it, to be pushed even further.
The sugar was much needed in your system, even buzzing and sluggish as you are, the small burst of energy helps keep you from drifting into a semi-conscious state. It helps you move your hips, circling in a feeble attempt to do nothing more than take. 
Akaashi presses his face between your shoulder blades, panting heavily and dotting your spine with tiny kisses, his voice heavy and broken on certain syllables. “That’s it, love.” He kisses you again, punctuating his words with a branding press of his lips. “You’re doing so well, you feel so good.”  
The praise makes you lightheaded, your body trying to keep up with them, to move with them in the pursuit of something. You don’t think you can cum anymore, but it feels just good enough that you don’t want to stop. You’re disjointed, disconnected, your brain a solid ten paces behind your actions.
So when you lean to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the sticky tip of Kei’s cock, you don’t think much of it. But he moans, catches you by the back of your neck to keep you there, rubbing himself against your lips until you part them again and let him grind against the heat of your tongue. 
“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, head falling back, his throat bobbing with a particularly dry swallow. 
You suckle gently on the very tip of him, swirling your tongue against the slick head and humming when the taste of him coats the inside of your mouth, and he trembles against you, letting out a noise so close to a plea that it makes your thighs clench. 
“Feels good.” You try to say, slurred and raspy. 
Kuroo makes an odd, breathy sort of laugh, bucking his hips into you once to disturb the languid pace you’re trying to set. “Does it?” He asks, tipping his face down to look at you, trying to catch you in a kiss despite the way Kei languidly grinds into your mouth. “How good, baby? How good are we making you feel?”  
Kei reluctantly allows him to pull you off of his cock, panting and flushed, twitching in your grasp. For a moment, he has to slow down, his hips barely moving while he lets himself fall away from the edge. Wordlessly, Bo reels him in for a kiss, and you’re once again surrounded on all sides, feeling almost suffocated as they wrap themselves around you, overlapping and intertwined. 
You whine, whatever feeble reply you’d been ready to offer Kuroo drowned out by the firm press of his lips. Plush and warm, it’s surprisingly chaste considering the horribly debauched way you feel. He kisses you like he loves you, like it’s just a distant moment where he’s caught you around the waist and is pulling you in for a good morning kiss. 
Not like he’s buried to the hilt inside of you alongside one of his best friends, like he hasn’t littered your body with fingerprint bruises and blooming burgundy hickeys. 
Then his tongue pries your lips apart, delving inside, and he moans at the taste of salt that lingers from having Kei in your mouth. He kisses you harder, licking into you shamelessly, clinging to your legs so tightly that you’re sure he’s only leaving more bruises. 
“Gonna–” You pant heavily, hips twitching, your eyes rolling back as every functioning muscle in your body tries to tense with anticipation, your toes curling and your fingers going slack, only held in place by the way Bo and Kei keep you fisted tight around them. 
“Yeah?” Bokuto coos, reaching in to cup your cheek with his free hand and pull you towards him, kissing you once to taste both Kei and Kuroo on your tongue, and then meeting Kuroo half-way in another frenzied kiss. Against his lips, he asks– “Gonna what, baby? Tell us what you need.” 
He’s getting needy himself, desperate to touch as many of you as possible at once, needing to be in contact with all of you. Bo likes to feel surrounded when he cums, likes having all of you nearby. His hips buck, cock throbbing against the tight squeeze of your fingers, but he slows whenever he gets too close, just like Kei is.
You hiss, tossing your head against his grip and turning towards Kuroo, panting heavy and trying to convey to him with your eyes what you’re trying to say. 
He groans at the sight of you, letting out a small wisp of breath between his teeth before he’s fucking you a little faster, brow pinched and his breath coming out in rough, shallow pants. “Come on, pretty.” He grits out, biting back a noise close to a whimper. “Come on, come on.”  
You choke on a whimper, mouthing at his jaw and trying to babble out a coherent sentence, slurred and sticky words catching on your tongue. “More.” You plead, wanting to move your hips faster but unable to muster the strength. “Please, Tetsurou, Keiji, please more.” 
Akaashi ghosts his lips just below your ear, voice barely a whisper. “Call him daddy, love.” He murmurs, loving despite the brutal slap of his hips against your ass, hands gentle as they push and pull on your waist. “Trust me, he’ll give you more.” 
You’re too far gone to even think twice about it, beyond embarrassment, beyond rational thinking. You lean forward, mouth to Kuroo’s ear, and beg for him once more. “Please, daddy? Pl–” 
“Shit! Fuck– shit!” His hips snap into you, hard and erratic without any sense of rhythm, and one of his hands grabs your face, slips to curl around your throat, though he barely applies any pressure. “Again.”  
It’s a demand, but he says it like a plea, voice ragged like he’s swallowed a mouthful of gravel. “Baby, say it again, call me daddy.”
You do, breathless and hoarse, and the way he throbs inside of you is unmistakable. He wrestles control of the pace from Keiji, the latter whom gives it up gladly in order to watch the way you unknowingly tear Kuroo apart. 
“Daddy!” You gasp, clawing at his back, nails raking down sweat-slicked skin until streaks of crimson follow, dotted faintly with blood that smears beneath your hands. “Please, please, m’close, daddy please.”  
His eyes roll back, mouth falling open as he ducks his head to suck impossibly dark marks into your skin, overlapping some of the hickeys Kei had left, uncaring that you’re overly raw and sensitive. “Again.” He rasps, watching with wild eyes as Akaashi’s mouth twists, brow pinched in an expression of agonizing need, the look of a man who’s on the edge and is trying everything to keep it together. 
Despite how hard he tries to keep himself in check, Kuroo cums first. Akaashi tries to slow down to let him ride it out, but is quickly deterred when you push back onto him with a whine, so he matches Kuroo thrust for thrust despite the way both of you squirm and cry out at the overwhelming stimulation. Kuroo chokes back a ragged sob and drops his face to your neck, squeezing you and dragging you by the hips onto his cock once, twice, only able to manage a few more thrusts before he’s spilling into you with a hoarse call of your name. 
It’s still so warm, hot and thick and even Akaashi moans against your back at the feeling, lips pressed tight to your sweaty skin to try and muffle the sound, but you can feel it vibrate through your spine. 
A strangled, high-pitched sound builds in Kuroo’s throat when he feels you cumming next, the silken squeeze of your cunt ripping a sharp gasp from his chest as it flutters around his sensitive cock. He sounds like he’s in pain when he moans against the sensitive skin of your throat, but he adjusts his hold on your waist and then helps Akaashi fuck you through it anyway. 
You’re sure that if they try to make you cum again, you’ll die, it’s too much and you’re not even confident you’ll survive this one. 
They cradle you as you fall apart, your consciousness splintering into fragments, your physical form completely dead weight as you flicker out of existence, like a shadow at the corner of your vision. It’s almost like you’re sleeping, numb to the way hands flitter over you and lift you to change your position. You’re moved easily, changed to their whims, malleable as you drift along the line of unconsciousness. 
A cool drip of water on your forehead brings you back, a finely textured cloth gently wiping down your face. 
“There we go.” Kuroo murmurs, kissing the tip of your nose and putting the rag aside. “Are you coming back to us now?” 
Your throat feels too dry for you to say anything in reply, slowly pulling yourself from the sticky grasp of whatever blackout had clung to you, blinking away the haze and trying to stretch out. 
But they’re still holding you, you’re still full to the brim, Kei keeps your slack hand pressed tight around his cock while he fucks into it, though Bokuto has released you in favor of sidling up to Kuroo and kissing him. You can’t move, but with the way your body screams in protest after even a brief attempt, you think it might be better for you that way. 
You can’t even find it in you to protest when, after Kuroo pulls out, Bo takes his place. He hooks an arm around your middle, taking on most of your weight easily and pressing the swollen head of his cock into you. Akaashi’s fingers find your clit, gentle and swirling around it to avoid stimulating you too much directly. It’s nice enough, and you find yourself rocking into it as much as Bokuto’s tight hold will allow. 
The stretch is a little more intense this time, but you’re mostly numb to it, the only feeling you get is the hard jolt of pleasure when one of them hits your sweet spot. 
Bo is surprisingly gentle considering usually he’s the one getting too excited, breaking you down to pieces and ruining you simply because he’s overzealous at the best of times. Thick arms hold you up with ease, giving Akaashi a little more freedom to move as well, to quicken his pace and to touch you like he wants. Hands skimming up your sides, cupping your breasts, free to explore the length of your body without having to support your weight at the same time. 
It’s a slow build, distant and barely noticeable, but you eventually begin to squirm when another orgasm creeps close. Impossibly, you make a strangled noise of want and roll your hips, even as part of you screams that one more is too much, it’ll definitely kill you, you can’t take anymore. 
“There’s no way.” Kuroo breathes, ragged and breathless, but he leans in to watch the way you begin to twitch, the way your lashes flutter as you blink away the welling of tears blurring your vision. “Again?” 
Your voice is essentially shot, little more than a dry rasp as you try to protest, try to ask for some form of relief, but you can’t quite get the words out. 
Akaashi lets out a soft, rough noise against your back, pressing down hard on your clit as his hips begin to stutter. Your voice pitches high, sharp, and he groans in something close to an apology. 
“I know, love.” He whispers, sounding almost regretful as he locks both of his arms around your waist, holding you tight when his pace starts to pick up. “I know, I’m sorry I– I can’t help it. ” 
It’s too much when he cums, the way he fucks into you well past the point of overstimulation. Bokuto slows down, but he doesn’t stop fully, pushing both of you beyond your limit, and Akaashi sobs into your back at how sensitive he begins to feel.
Too hot, and the sounds that spill from between your legs when they continue to shove their cocks into the wet, abused clench of your pussy make you want to cover your ears and drown it all out. You have no control over the way your muscles contract around them, tight and squeezing, and then slack, relaxed, allowing them to carve out a space inside of you even as a small, precious piece of you tries to fight it still. 
Akaashi buries his face into your neck, his voice raw and hoarse when he breathes your name, then Bo’s, a whisper of how good you feel sending a shiver of sweetness up your spine.
Then he’s choking back another sob, still thrusting into you even though he’s overstimulated, the hands roaming your body shaking as they squeeze and pet you, his skin faintly glimmering with sweat, and you’re sure if you could see his face then it would be the most unkempt version of Akaashi you’ve ever seen. 
But he doesn’t pull out, and Bo continues to fuck you both through it. 
You almost feel like you’re going to pass out again, your vision blacking out in brief flickers that leave you dazed. Enduring it is easier this way, but Kei will tap your cheeks occasionally, to gauge your attention and see if you can focus it enough to respond.
Your eyes snap to meet his every time, pupils blown wide in a clear indication that you’re still at least partially aware. 
Finally, Akaashi slips out, gasping, heaving for breath as he falls back on the bed, chest stuttering and his hips still thrusting weakly into the air, like his body instinctively searches for more pleasure even though he’s well past his limit. 
Then it’s just Bokuto, holding you tight over his lap and fucking himself into you, face tucked into your neck with his hands cradling your back. Your hand is still wrapped tightly around Kei’s cock, but he’s thrusting into it slowly now, dragging it out, and you swallow around nothing when he begins to move you, lifting you gently so he can slip into the space previously occupied by Akaashi. 
“Kei…” You try to plead, but Kuroo shushes you softly, and it’s only then you notice that he’d moved away from you. The bed dips beneath his weight as he crawls back to your side, helping hold you up so Kei can settle. 
“Just a little more, baby.” He murmurs, kissing you on the crown of your head. “So good, you’re doing so good, we’re almost done.”  
“Can’t–” You gasp, the sensitive walls of your quivering cunt clenching down when Kei slowly pushes his way inside. Bokuto groans softly at the feeling, thrusting a few times to rut against him while inside of you, and it’s enough to knock the words out of your mouth. 
“Can’t take anymore!” You wail, your nails dragging sharply over Bo’s shoulders, clinging because you feel so dangerously close to the brink of passing out that it makes your breath start to shallow out. They hold you steady, with Kei immediately crowding against your back and bending down to press his face into your neck, wrapping as much of himself around you as he can as though to keep you grounded. 
Bo slows down, though neither of them pull out of you. Akaashi crawls close to gather you into his arms, supporting the bulk of your weight as Bo releases you to allow him the embrace, though he does keep one hand resting against your hip.
“You’re doing so well, my love.” Akaashi murmurs into your hair, husky and breathless. “You’re so beautiful, you always take us so well, always so good for us.” 
You choke back a sob, shaking in his arms as he cradles you, lithe fingers stroking down your spine and his lips pressing gentle kisses to your temple. You can still feel Bo and Kei inside of you, filling you, twitching against one another with muscles straining against the urge to keep fucking you. 
But they don’t. 
Kuroo gets you more water, colder water, and feeds you a few more truffles, brushing the hair from your face and wiping you down with a warm rag. It feels nice, the cloth is soft against your buzzing skin, and isn’t aggravating despite the way your entire body feels like it’s raw and oversensitive. 
When you can breathe again, they take turns kissing you. Slow, languid, velvet against your mouth while they each lick at the sweetness still lingering on your lips. 
Kei gives you more chocolate with his turn, the truffle half-melted on his tongue, a hand cradling the back of your head to keep you pressed against him. His cock twitches inside you when you lick into his mouth with a needy whine, and his grip on your waist tightens, but he still doesn’t move despite how he clearly wants to. 
Kuroo steals you next, fingers curling over the nape of your neck and dragging you in to seal his mouth over yours. He licks the rest of Kei’s molten truffle from your tongue shamelessly, swallowing your noise of protest and tilting your head back so he can kiss you just a little harder. It’s bruising, the roughest one he’s given you all night, and it leaves you a little dazed and swaying when he finally lets you go. 
In contrast, Bokuto is achingly gentle when his lips meet yours, his large hand curving around the side of your neck with his thumb gliding along your cheek. His mouth is a little cold, like he’d just taken a sip of water, and you lean into it, a soft sigh that spills out when he traces the plush of your bottom lip with his tongue. 
You’re lost in it, so you don’t notice when he starts to move, slowly rolling his hips in tiny circles that are barely noticeable. Kei squeezes you, makes a warning noise that you barely register, and then Bo is moving a little faster, a little deeper.
You whine in protest, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep until you can’t feel the ache in your bones anymore, but Akaashi turns you by your cheek to claim his kiss before you can complain. 
“Just a little more, pretty.” Kuroo murmurs, pulling Kei into a kiss of his own, and you can feel the way his cock twitches lewdly inside you as a result. They don’t give you the chance to even try getting away, the slow back and forth rocking, pushing and pulling you from Kei to Bokuto. Their hands are light as they skim along your body, lips ghosting along your neck and your shoulders, leaving half-formed bruises that will darken even more by morning. 
You catch the flicker of pink as Kuroo’s tongue delves into Kei’s mouth, watching as the blonde’s brow furrows and his hips stutter into you, cock throbbing hard as he unconsciously picks up the pace. 
Akaashi finally gives you a moment to breathe, moving down to leave his own mark just above your collarbones, and you barely feel as he sucks the bruise deep into your skin, enough to make sure it will ache long after he’s done. 
Bo nudges against your jaw with a soft whine, breaths hard and fast as he tries to clear his throat enough to speak. “Baby.” He rasps, wobbly. “Baby, I’m gonna cum, can I stay inside you? Please? Please baby I wanna cum in you, feels so fucking good.” 
He groans then, hips hilting faster now, bruising and hard enough that Kei gives up entirely on moving and simply remains buried inside of you, the two of you forced to take what he gives. 
Kuroo snorts, reaching out and fisting a hand in Bo’s hair, pulling his head back with a grin. “What, you’re asking permission now?” He teases, rolling his hips into the hard muscle of the spiker’s thigh. “Cute, Kou. Gonna ask her to cuddle next?”
“Maybe.” He quips back, breathless but grinning, unperturbed by the taunt. “Have fun sleeping on the couch while I’m in here, all curled up and cozy.” 
Kei squeezes your hips, his chest pressed to your back as he leans over you, sweaty and trembling. Your head tilts, baring your throat for the gentle press of his lips, the faint bite of teeth when they scrape over your skin. The bickering is drowned out by the heavy pants skimming over your ear, the soft whimpers that wouldn’t be audible if you were just a few inches away. His arms tighten around you, fully wrapped around your waist to crush you against his chest, and you know that he’s getting close too. 
“Gentle.” You try to say, try to remind them, but the word comes out odd, more of a drawn out syllable that ends on a hiccup when Bokuto fucks you harder. 
Too much.  
When he cums, he yanks both you and Kei as close as possible, thick arms wrapped around you to hold you against him while he bullies his cock into you relentlessly, your body limp in his grasp and slumped over his chest. The change in angle makes you sob, a gritty noise that feels like sand caught at the back of your tongue, and he makes a tortured sound as if to echo you, tucking his face into your hair as if that will muffle how he moans and gasps while emptying himself into your abused cunt. 
Then Kei is leaning back, propped up against Kuroo’s chest with the latter’s arms draped over his shoulders. You go with him, gravity keeping you in place as Bo helps move you on your back, and then it’s just Kei inside of you. 
Gentle fingers find your clit, but it doesn’t feel good anymore, it just burns. You try to push them away, but your hands won’t listen, twitching listlessly where they’d fallen at your sides. 
“I’m sorry.” Kei breathes, shaking as Kuroo encourages him to move faster, pushing his hips forward to keep him fucking into you. “Feels so good, I can’t–” His voice cracks, pitches high, and then he’s curling forward into you, gasping into your neck and grabbing at your hips to yank you back onto his twitching cock. 
Weakly, impossibly, you try to crawl away, try to pull off of him, but it feels like you’re beneath those weighted blankets again, the air heavy enough to pin you down while Kei uses you to finish himself off. Thick, liquid heat spills into you once more, stuffed too full, feeling it drip out of you onto the sheets, smeared along your inner thighs and your stomach, wet and sticky and cooling rapidly in the chilly air of your apartment. Kei holds you to him, arms wrapped fully around your waist to hold you while he rides it out, with Kuroo stroking the hair from his face and smoothing a hand over your hip to help you both on the way down from your spiral. 
The sound is awful as he pulls out, and yet you can’t even find the presence of mind to be embarrassed, you’re sure that you’re only seconds away from slipping into a coma anyway so it hardly matters now. 
Akaashi holds you close, murmuring into your ear as he gathers you in his arms and lifts you off the bed. Apologies, mostly, because you whine with pain when he moves you, and more so when he starts to walk with you. 
Bokuto leaves the room, and Kuroo joins Akaashi in checking you over, fingertips skimming over your sensitive skin, tracing the outlines of bite marks and bruises. They fuss over you, no longer offering sugary kisses and sweet praise, they examine you with a fine tuned familiarity built up over years of aftercare, knowing when to offer sweetness and when to give you the essentials instead. 
Kei, after taking a minute or so to recover, begins changing your sheets while they’re busy with you, though he’s quicker to get dressed than any of you are. He’s come back to himself, a little, now more aware and no longer immersed in his own subspace, but his eyes still soften when they catch yours from across the room, the stoic facade melting. 
“Hey, pretty girl. Still with us?” Kuroo cups your cheek gently, patting it until your eyes move to focus on him instead. 
You hum, a vaguely affirmative sort of sound, and Akaashi sighs with tepid relief, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. 
When Bo comes back into the room, you’re transferred into his arms despite your delirious protests. He carries you into the bathroom and sets you gently on the sink, cupping the back of your head to lean it against the mirror, then he rocks back on his heels to look at you. 
You can only imagine how you look now, in the light, completely bare. You’d expect him to look disgusted, almost, finally seeing how thoroughly wrecked you’ve become. 
Instead, he sighs, hands on your hips as he dips down to kiss you reverently, murmuring into the space between your lips in a meltingly sweet whisper. “We’re so damn lucky, y’know.” 
He takes a few moments to just kiss you, soft little pushes of his lips against yours, moving like warm satin when you tip your face from one side to the other, guided by his hand. “So pretty like this, baby. So fucking pretty.” 
You bask in his praise for a moment, preening as he kisses you between each little compliment, but then Kei steps through the door into the bathroom and brushes past you, though he does stop long enough to give you both a kiss at Bo’s insistence. 
Rough hands slip beneath your thighs, and you only have a second to even think about bracing before Bokuto hoists you up and jostles you to make sure you’re sturdy in his arms. The abruptness of it makes you whimper, though, sore muscles protesting the careless movement. He winces, brushing his nose against yours in a quiet apology. 
“Be careful, Koutarou.” Kei sighs, setting down a cold water bottle on the sink and opening the cabinet that has all of your soaps. “Let me do it, go find a brush for her hair.” 
Bo pouts, squeezing you gently and pressing his cheek against your forehead, you can almost picture the dramatic expression he must be making. “No way, bathtime is the best part. You go get her brush, it’s in the nightstand on Kuroo’s side of the bed.” 
Idly, you wonder what the fuck Kuroo was doing using your brush, but the thought is a fleeting one. 
You lift your head, trying to turn to see where Kei is standing, but you quickly feel the heat of him at your back as he comes to stand behind you. His arms loop around your middle, though Bo still carries most of your weight. You melt against him, his lips at your shoulder and his hands rubbing soothing circles into some of your sore muscles, you can’t help yourself.
“Then be more careful, she’s already sore. We don’t need you making it worse, you brute.” He mutters the last part under his breath, muffling the insult by pressing a kiss to the space just below your ear. 
Bokuto bristles, a deep-set frown etched into his face. “What was that? Weren’t calling me a brute when I was balls deep in–”
Akaashi’s calm, cool voice cuts through the rising volume of the argument. “The bath is getting cold.” 
Frigid silence, both men tensing sharply even though Akaashi physically does not pose much of a threat. Kei ducks his head, slipping out of the bathroom with a muttered apology, and Bokuto quietly carries you to the hot tub of water beckoning you from the corner. It burns, at first, stinging your skin and making you squirm with discomfort as he lowers you into it, but it fades quickly and then, when you’re fully submerged with your head lolling against the rim, you think you might be dangerously close to passing out like this. He crouches down beside you, knees knocking against porcelain in his efforts to be as near to you as possible while you soak. 
It smells a little like tea tree, but softer, and the water has a green tint, something mixed in that has your skin tingling pleasantly. It’s opaque, murky with what you suspect to be a mixture of milk and honey. You already feel a little more supple to the touch, and you make a low, pleased hum as you sink into it with a drawn out exhale. 
Kei reenters the bathroom quietly, stopping briefly to accept the comforting kiss Akaashi offers before coming to join Bo, though he sits on the edge of the tub beside you instead of staying on the floor. He pulls your hair out from beneath your head and cups handfuls of water to pour over your scalp, careful to make sure it doesn’t get in your eyes, and he passes your brush to Bo in a silent peace offering. 
It’s accepted with a wide, beaming smile, practiced hands separating your damp hair to begin brushing it out, painstakingly slow. This is the most gentle Bokuto is with you, when he’s handling your hair or your body after a sore scene. Despite his tendency to be almost exceedingly overzealous, he treats you like you’re made of something even finer than gold afterwards. 
“She wanted pizza after this, right?” Kuroo calls from down the hall, though his voice gradually grows louder as he moves closer to the bathroom. “I thought she wrote her order down for us, but I can’t find the sticky note.” 
“She asked for fried chicken instead, and Kei put the note on top of the fridge because she kept trying to change things and he didn’t want her messing the order up.” Akaashi tips his face unconsciously as Kuroo stops by the door for a quick kiss, leaning into it with a soft sigh that Kuroo echoes with a smile. 
Before leaving, he stops when he sees you sprawled in the tub, a quick, inquisitive glance scanning you over. 
“I turned on the heating pad, so it’ll be warm by the time she’s ready for bed.” He leans against Akaashi with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around his waist to hold him steady. While you and Kei are clearly the more fucked out of the bunch, nobody came out of it completely unscathed. “Fucking hell, look at her legs. Was that all me?” 
Bo laughs, almost a bark of a sound, and your brow pinches once at the sharpness of it. “Who else? You’re the only one who gets that crazy with your teeth!” He sets your brush aside, picking up one of your shampoo bottles next and inspecting the label. 
Deeming it acceptable, he squirts some of the floral scented peach soap into Kei’s waiting hand. 
Kei kisses your forehead in apology, even though you’re both used to Kuroo and Bo’s loud banter by now. His fingers scrub your lathered soap into your scalp, gentle circles that would make you purr if you were a little more coherent. Still, you push your head into his hands in encouragement, undeterred and shameless even when he clicks his tongue at your impatience. 
Kuroo comes a little closer, crouching down by the side of the tub and reaching out for your hand, kissing the back of it sweetly. “You coming out of it, pretty?” He asks, lips still lightly pressed against your knuckles. 
You hum, and that’s enough of an answer for them. 
“She’s answering us, at least.” Bo retakes his spot once Kuroo leaves to go order your dinner, a new bottle in hand as he’s lathering himself practically up to the elbows with some of your body wash. “That means she’ll probably be awake soon.” 
Kei scoffs a little, rinsing out your hair with warm water. “She’s already awake.” 
“You know what I mean!” 
Akaashi presses a hand to his forehead and tries to wave off the looming headache creeping in, eyes half-narrowed as he debates on kicking the two of them out of the bathroom. 
Unfortunately, he knows Bo wouldn’t be willing to leave. Kei could be persuaded, but he’d be incredibly grumpy for the rest of the night. Kuroo is usually the only reasonable one, but even then it’s a 50/50 chance of whether or not he’ll just choose to be difficult. 
Warm hands lathered thick with soap press down on your neck, rubbing gently over your pulse before sliding down your shoulders. It’s more of a massage than a means to clean you, but it feels nice, and Bo is careful whenever his fingers glide over bruises or sore spots. He kneads out some of the tension in your shoulders, the juncture where they meet your neck, slippery fingers ghosting down between your breasts in a touch that is far from sexual. It’s intimate, how he handles you, parting your thighs and rubbing wide circles on the insides to chase away the lingering ache from how far wide your legs had been spread for hours. 
Kei scrunches some conditioner into your hair, the scent of peaches and rose water a subtle contrast to the sharpness of tea tree. Your head tilts back, lips parted as if to speak up and call for his attention, but no words come out. He pauses when he sees you trying to talk, brows dipping low with something akin to thinly veiled concern. 
You try to gently clear your throat, but it feels like your vocal cords are made of gravel, and you’re still a little far in the back of your head. Slow flickers of clarity are coming back to you, but words are still out of your reach apparently. 
He nods once in a show of understanding, cupping the back of your head to keep it from hitting the tub as he bends down to kiss you. Akaashi comes closer, snagging the bottle of water Kei had set down and unscrewing the cap so he can hold it out for you. Before you can attempt to reach for it with an arm that feels about a hundred pounds too heavy, he’s overlapping his hand with Kei’s at the nape of your neck and tipping the bottle against your lips so you can drink.
It’s deliciously cold, and flavored faintly with lemon, soothing the ache in your raw throat a little more with every swallow. The bright flavor of the citrus helps wake you up, and you’re able to hold your own head up to finish the bottle. Akaashi sets the empty plastic container aside, then presses a kiss to your cold lips with a soft smile. 
Kei leaves to get a towel from the dryer while Bokuto rinses out your hair, knowing that Kuroo would have already thrown a few in for a cycle to keep them nice and warm for when you finished with your bath. Everyone moves in sync, in tandem with each other while you’re struggling to even remember how to function like a semi-human. 
You begin to come back to yourself, slowly, though it still feels like everything is wrapped in thick, sticky layers of tar or molasses. You’re a little more aware by the time Akaashi helps you out of the tub, when Kei wraps you in a warm, soft towel that doesn’t irritate your skin. 
Bokuto picks you up, mindful of before when he’d lifted you without preamble. He cradles you, pressing little kisses to your wet hair while carrying you into the living room where Kuroo is waiting leaned against the kitchen counter, phone in hand, wearing a pair of loose sweatpants that are definitely not his. A frown mars his face, kiss-swollen lips pursed like a pout, one that melts the moment he looks up to see you all filing into the open space.
“Hey, pretty.” He holds his arms out for you, ignoring Bo’s little whine as he gathers you to his chest, though the latter almost doesn’t let go until Akaashi hip checks him on the way into the kitchen. He buries his face in your wet hair, inhaling deep and then kissing you on the top of your head. “You look a little more here now , can you talk to us yet?” 
You lick your lips, blinking through the lingering film of your high and the remnants of your subspace, but when you try to reach for a response, you find that your mouth still isn’t quite cooperating. Closer, but not there yet. 
So you shake your head, which is at least enough to let them know that you’re cognizant. 
Bokuto goes into the kitchen while Kuroo carries you to the couch, laying you down and tucking a pillow beneath your head. Kei drapes a blanket over you, Akaashi brings your bottle of water and sets it on the floor beside you, and then the three of them are settling down on the floor in a little half circle in front of you. 
There’s a hand in your hair, just petting, fingertips that feather over the features of your face, the bruises on your legs poking out from beneath the cover, smoothing you over now that you’re laid out and they can look at you. You try to keep your eyes from falling shut, trying to clear away what little of the fog you can differentiate from your high. You’re gone for the rest of the night for sure, but if you can crawl out of your subspace then at least you can communicate with them.
They worry more on the nights where you fall asleep before fully coming out of it, and you can tell by the way they hover that they’re dangerously close to that line. Three sets of eyes are on you, almost unblinking, intense, taking in the damage that they’ve done to you throughout the night. 
“Creepy.” 
It slips out before you can even register it, a knee-jerk reaction that is too strong for even your recovering lungs to keep down. Hoarse, barely audible, little more than rasp and a pinch of your voice, but loud enough that they hear it.
Kuroo barks out an ugly, wheezing laugh that makes Kei grimace, his hand coming down sharply to slap against his knee as he cackles. 
“I can’t believe that’s the first thing you say to us!” He’s grinning, bright and relieved , bracing his elbow against his knee so he can rest his mouth against his hand, obscuring the wide smile he can’t quite stifle. “I’m paying for your dinner, and this is the thanks I get?”  
Akaashi looks significantly more displeased, unamused even when you stretch your hand out towards him, wiggling your fingers to get his attention. It reminds him eerily of earlier, when you had been trying to get him to stop frowning at you for wanting to take three gummies at the start of the movie. 
He takes your hand, curling your fingers into his palm and pressing a light kiss against your knuckles, then pressing them into his cheek with a soft, placated sigh. “You’re bad for my health.” He murmurs, completely serious despite it being a blatant lie. 
“Foods almost here!” Bo calls from down the hallway, and Kei gets up with a drawn out, pained groan to wait by the door. 
Before he can leave, you try to call for him, though your voice cracks on the single syllable of his name. He hears you still, and stops, crouching back down beside you and brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. His eyes are soft, molten gold that glimmers when he looks down at you. “Hm?” 
“Kiss.” 
His laughter is soft and sweet, and his hands are warm when he cups your face and brings you in for a kiss. It’s chaste and gentle, the faintest pressure against your lips, mindful of how swollen and sore they’ve become. 
Sometimes it’s easy to forget how sweet Kei is, when he’s not trying to appear unaffected and distant from everything. He’s always softer when he thinks you won’t remember. 
Akaashi crawls onto the couch with you, and you roll onto your back to accommodate him as he sprawls himself over you. Tucking his face into your neck, his hands slipping beneath your back, your legs parting around the width of him as he settles between them. Warm, his weight is a comfort that helps keep you grounded as you climb out of your own head. The blanket is forgotten on the floor, though you’re sure if you get cold later someone will throw it over you.
“I got extra biscuits–Bokuto you are not allowed to touch more than one box, got it?” Kuroo sets his phone aside and gets up when Kei comes back in with several boxes in his arms, and Bo is quick to join them. Akaashi stays cuddled up with you, rubbing your back, nuzzling into your neck and whispering into your skin about how good you are, how sweet, how much he loves you. 
He always brings you back like this, talking you into coherence, wanting to make sure some of the first things you hear when you can process words again are praise and affirmations. While the others get the food set up, he’s slowly coaxing you back into full sentience. 
It’s his favorite part, so they tend to let him be the one to do it most often, just like Bo gets to handle bath time. 
When you look down at him, blinking slowly, and he sees the first real flicker of comprehension on your face, he smiles. 
“Welcome back.” He murmurs, propping himself up on his elbows so he can lean over you, watching as awareness washes over you, crystal-clear, and then you’re smiling up at him. 
“Thanks, Keiji.” You meet him half-way when he dips down to kiss you, tangling your fingers into the thick hair at the nape of his neck and tugging, pulling him closer until his weight is fully settled over you again. He sighs against you, like he’s finally able to relax, tension draining away the more kisses you give him. “Miss me that much?” 
“Don’t push it.” He breathes, but he’s smiling against your lips and he makes no effort to hide it. “Do you think you can eat?”
“I could eat literally an entire bucket of chicken by myself.” 
His body trembles with his silent laughter, and then he’s up, moving to help you off of the couch while you clutch at the folds of your towel to keep it from slipping. 
Bokuto beams when he sees you walking on your own, immediately sweeping over with all the intensity of a storm as he picks you up. You yelp, locking your legs tight around his waist and then wincing when it sends a sharp stab of pain through your hips.
Kuroo thwacks him on the back, frowning. “Oi, frosty, you’re gonna be banned from hug privileges during aftercare if you can’t be careful.” 
Kei chimes in. “That’s the second time tonight.” 
“Snitch!” You gasp, snickering shamelessly when he shoots you a sharp glare, though the intensity of it is lessened by the way he instinctively seems to gravitate towards you, already moving from his spot against the counter to approach you and Bo. Waiting patiently, Bokuto holds you steady when Kei leans over to kiss you, pretty hands cupping your jaw to tilt your face how he wants.
“Bokuto…” Akaashi sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and stopping at the entryway into the kitchen, brow cocked and lips thinned with displeasure. “You know to be careful with her.”
Even though Bokuto is both taller and larger than Akaashi, he still seems to shrink beneath the force of that unamused, deadpan stare. Slowly, he puts you down, and Kei helps steady you when you’re on your own two feet again. 
“I’m alright, guys.” You reach across the counter to pluck a biscuit from one of the boxes, though you find your body still doesn’t want to cooperate with you. Akaashi moves the box closer, and accepts the little kiss you press to his lips with a smile. “The worst of it will be tomorrow, you can rag on him a little if he’s still not careful then. Okay?”
Bo pouts, leaning into your back and pressing his cheek against yours, arms winding around your waist as he hunches over you. “I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to hurt you.” He’s genuinely remorseful, regretful, even when he’s playing rough with you it’s clear he doesn’t like causing you pain. 
You tilt your head to the side, kissing him loudly on his rosy cheek before returning to your biscuit. “It’s okay, I’m not the one you’re gonna have to deal with if you make it to three strikes though.” Your smile is cheeky, playful when you feel him tense behind you.
You, Kei, and Bo turn in sync to look at Kuroo, whose hip is propped against the counter, arms folded over his chest while he watches you three. When he sees you looking at him, his grin slants into a smirk, a crooked stretch across his face that you know means trouble. 
“Who, me?” He purrs, pushing off of the counter and stalking towards you, slowly, one hand catching Bo by the chin to pull him along as he steps into your space. “You make it sound like I’m the executioner in this relationship.” 
You lean into him when he ducks down towards you, the bridge of his nose ghosting over yours. He crowds you against the counter, savoring the warmth of your lips on his when he steals a kiss. 
He presses as much of his body against you as he can, every hard edge met with a soft, plush curve, and he groans into your mouth even though surely he should be sated by now. His hands cup your jaw, thumb absentmindedly swiping away a lingering biscuit crumb from your cheek while he curves his body around yours, almost protectively, possessively. 
You indulge him for as long as you can, but you’re starving.  
“Has everyone gotten their fill?” You ask, though Kuroo doesn’t let you pull away far enough to speak properly, kissing you through your question despite how you try to squirm away. “I will literally die if I don’t eat–Tetsurou! Quit it!”
He laughs when you shove him away, sneaking one more kiss before you can properly fend him off and then sauntering back to his previous position to check his phone. It’s impossible to keep him from work for too long, but he’s taking the entire day off tomorrow so you’ll let him get away with it this time. 
Akaashi passes you a plate, allowing you to pick through the spread on the countertop to get what you want first. Kuroo must have ordered more than you asked for, extra boxes of biscuits and all of the sides, even an extra bucket of chicken that you’re sure won’t last as long as he thinks it will. Not with you and Bokuto in the same apartment, especially not with weed in the picture.  
They hover over you while you fill up your plate, never letting you move more than a few inches away from any one of them at a time, in case your legs give out or you can’t keep yourself up. You appreciate that they let you have your independence during this, sometimes the full coddling aftercare is nice, but usually it helps you come out of your subspace a little easier if you can do smaller things for yourself. 
Still, the scene was rougher than you anticipated, and the three edibles were definitely more than you planned for. Your body is still trembling, legs weak and threatening to collapse beneath your weight at any second, so you try to use the counter for support to make it at least a little more bearable.  
Akaashi rests a hand at the base of your spine when you begin to sway, and Kei catches you against his chest the moment your legs buckle. You groan quietly and let yourself slump into him, the warmth of his hands at the back of your head and between your shoulder blades a comfort. Akaashi comes closer, sandwiching you between the warmth of their bodies to keep you from falling. 
“Do you need us to do it?” He asks, voice soft as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He won’t push, not if you really want to do it on your own, but you can tell he’s hoping you’ll say yes. 
Or, you thought that was the case. 
Cool fingers take you by the chin and guide you in for a chaste kiss, something simple and soothing that takes care not to irritate your sore mouth. You lean into it with a soft, breathy murmur, but before you can fully reciprocate your plate is being taken from your hands while Akaashi holds you in his arms, keeping you pressed tight against him while Kei carries your dinner over to the coffee table in front of the TV. 
“What’s the point in asking if you aren’t gonna wait for an answer?” You huff, all false petulance and snark as you let him kiss you again, still greedy even though you thought he’d had enough of you throughout the night. 
Silly of you to think that any one of them will ever have enough of you. 
“A distraction.” He murmurs, completely without shame, between kisses. 
“You’re insatiable, Keiji.” Kuroo teases, breezing by with a hand ghosting over your arm, fingers trailing from yours to Akaashi’s. “We’ll have time for this tomorrow, though. She does need to eat.” 
It’s not often that Akaashi is the one who has to be, even if gently, reprimanded. His face burns with embarrassment, a rare and pleasant sight, and you find yourself grinning as you hold his cheeks in your hands to keep him from hiding it from you. 
For once, Bokuto is the responsible one. He gently steers you both by the shoulders into the living room, where Kuroo has already set out a few cold water bottles and some freshly dried blankets that are warm, fluffy and inviting. 
“Are we gonna finish the movie from earlier?” You ask, stopping at Kuroo’s side to give him a grateful kiss that he accepts with a lazy smile, a hand at your hip to keep you steady before he allows Bo to help you sit down. 
You’re tucked in quickly, a blanket draped over your lap, a towel, then your plate of chicken. Bokuto beams at you, crouched down so he’s at eye-level while he runs the ridge of his knuckles up and down your cheek. His eyes are half-lidded, a pretty flush on his cheeks with a dopey little smile curling at his lips. Lost in it, he doesn’t notice that the others have already begun filling their plates when usually he’d be first in line. It’s almost embarrassing, the way they dote on you, but every gesture carries with it a sense of urgency, the need to take care of you, familiar and practically a well-oiled machine at this point. 
He leans forward and brushes a kiss over your forehead, then lower to kiss your eyelids next, unable to hide his smile when your lashes flutter in surprise at the feeling. It’s the most meticulous you see him outside of the gym or the court, the careful way he maps out the features of your face with his lips, almost ritualistic in his need to do it after every scene. 
You’ve all learned how to take care of each other, and sometimes they know what you need even before you do, so you let yourself melt into him and even reciprocate a few of his kisses when you can tilt your face in time to catch his lips with your own.
He loves when you do that, but he does reluctantly part from you when Kei touches his back in a wordless signal that it’s his turn to get his food. 
“Do you want to finish it? We could try something else, you weren’t really paying attention earlier so we could just restart it and watch from the beginning.” Kuroo leans over your shoulder from behind the couch, straightening your blanket so the towel covers most of it while you’re eating in case you make a mess. Normally, if you did, they’d tease you. 
But your arms feel like they’re made of jelly and, while your mind is a little more clear now that you aren’t in a subspace, the edible is still going strong. No more teasing tonight, not of that variety anyway. He presses a quick kiss to your temple as he withdraws, though he does pause to give Kei one as well when the latter tucks himself in at your side.
Kei, surprisingly, leans into it, letting his head fall back just in time to catch the kiss with his mouth instead of his cheek. There’s a soft, pleased murmur, and then Kuroo is cupping his jaw with a large hand and deepening the kiss. They melt into it, into each other, with Kuroo bowed low over the back of the couch just so he can reach and Kei craning his head back despite the awkward angle. 
You soften, subdued and tired, and watch with something fluttery and buzzy blooming in your chest. Bokuto settles in on your other side, a bowl of everything thrown haphazardly together with a biscuit stuffed into his mouth. He smiles at you around it, or tries to, and the silly sight makes you feel warm, protected, it takes everything you have to keep eating and not just drift to sleep right there surrounded by the comfort of your loved ones.
Akaashi comes to sit on the other side of Kei, though he pauses in passing to give both you and Bo a sweet, slow kiss. Unhurried, he takes his time, his cold hands cupping your cheeks with his thumbs feathering over your cheekbones. There’s no lust behind it, nothing more than overwhelming affection that you can taste on your lips like sugar.
The move is rewound to play from the beginning, four bodies curled in together on one couch as your fifth takes his time picking through the spread to find what he wants to eat. Kuroo isn’t the biggest fan of junk food, but after all of the calories you burned even he isn’t going to argue that shitty takeout will hit the spot better than anything else. 
Still, you can hear him grumbling to himself like an old man as he reluctantly fills his plate with greasy chicken and fried potatoes on the side, you’re already dreading the micromanaging of your meals tomorrow. 
Always on the same wavelength, Bo nudges your side and ducks down to whisper, comically loud with a glitter of mischief in his eyes. “I bet Tetsu is gonna feed you nothin’ but green stuff tomorrow, wanna sneak out for some pizza during lunch?” 
You can almost hear the sound of Kuroo’s neck snapping as he whips around to face you, but you’re both steadfastly stuffing your mouths with biscuits to avoid questions, eyes innocently locked into the TV screen as though Bokuto hadn’t spoken up at all. Kei nearly chokes on his laughter, the only indication that Kuroo hadn’t just been hearing things. 
Even when it’s accidentally, he’s a snitch. Akaashi sighs, long and exasperated, but if you were to look at his face you’d find him smiling. 
Kuroo finally joins you, settling once more on the ground between your legs so he can stay close without having to squeeze himself in whatever little space would be available with four of you crammed onto one couch. 
With everyone settled and quiet, relaxed, you can focus on the movie and finishing your food. You have to eat slowly, your arms a little late to respond when you try to move, but it’s not impossible as long as you take care not to rush. 
Everything is greasy, salty, and you’re definitely going into a food coma the moment you get into bed, but after the workout you just endured it feels like the best meal you’ve ever had. Kei shares his sides with you after you finish yours, even though Bokuto tries to insist that he eat all of it because he never seems to eat enough, and Kuroo gets up to refill your plate with your favorites before you can even ask. 
You can’t help feeling incredibly lucky, right now. Listening to them banter, bicker, trying not to laugh as Kuroo complains about different aspects of the movie that he doesn’t like, then unable to hold the laughter back when Akaashi counters all of his points with a carefully controlled monotone. One of the quickest ways to piss Kuroo off. 
You drift, comfortable, sore but sated and now with significantly more salt in your system. While good at the time, now you’re craving something disgustingly sweet.
“Do we still have any ice cream?” You ask, voice still a little hoarse, cracking both from disuse and overuse at the same time. Kei passes you your water bottle, the condensation chilling the tips of his fingers, and you gently brush your nose against his in lieu of making him endure a greasy kiss as thanks. 
He returns the gesture gratefully.  
“We got some of your favorites earlier when Keiji went to the grocery store.” Kuroo tilts his head back, resting it atop your thighs so he can look at you.  “There’s a sale going on though, so if you want then tomorrow we’ll have Kou pick up more on his way home.” 
Your lips purse, fingers itching to work their way into his hair and play with it, but not wanting to touch him before you’ve had the chance to wash your hands. His lips twitch, corners curling into half a grin before he stifles it
Bo perks up, bumping his shoulder into you gently and giving you a sweet smile. “I could stop by that cat cafe to get you a coffee too, they have those cute little cups that you and Tetsu like.” 
You perk up, recalling the little latte he’d brought back after practice one day. “Can I have one of those cat shaped marshmallows in it? The pink ones.” You muster up the strongest puppy eyes you can manage, even knowing that there’s no way he would deny you, it’s more for dramatic effect and because Bo gets insane cute aggression, you like watching him agonize over fighting back the urge to squish you into his arms.
As expected, his brow furrows strongly, lips pressed thin as his fingers curl into fists. Though he looks angry, it melts away as he dips forward to kiss you on the mouth, loudly, completely unperturbed by the mess. “C’mon, I can do better than that. I’ll get you at least two.”
“And one of their white chocolate caramel cookies?” This time when you give him the puppy eyes, Bokuto breaks. He squeezes you by the cheeks and drags you in for a much louder kiss, smacking your lips together while cooing about how cute you are, refusing to let you pull away even when you’re cackling with raspy laughter and trying to pry his hands away from your face. 
“Bokuto.” Akaashi’s voice is gentle, but still cool enough that you stop roughhousing. You’ll regret it tomorrow, sure, but as you and Bo sit and giggle beside each other, sharing smiles with his arm wrapping around your shoulders, you can’t find it in you to think it isn’t worth it. You love moments like these, the domesticity, knowing that in a few years there’s a chance you look back and reminisce on it all with your loved ones fondly. 
Bo pulls you gently back against his chest, and you don’t protest when Akaashi gets up to take your plate into the kitchen, coming back just long enough to clean off your hands and give the four of you kisses before he’s returning to start washing the dishes. You can feel yourself drifting again, physical fatigue and the edibles both trying to drag you deep into slumber, worse now that you’re full and satiated on multiple levels. It’d be easier if you weren’t still in your wet towel, you’re sure you would have already fallen asleep by now if you were wearing something warm and dry.
Akaashi probably did that intentionally, wanting to keep you awake until they could get you into bed. 
“Hey, pretty.” Kuroo twists around so he’s on his knees, warm hands resting against your thighs where he taps his fingertips to get your attention. The position makes your cheeks warm up, that grinning face peering up at you from between your legs, self assured and still somehow sweet. “This look familiar?” He teases, but his voice is soft, and his arms loop around your waist for leverage as he scoots a little closer. 
You groan softly, planting your hand against his forehead to try and keep him at bay, but he’s undeterred. “Tetsurou I am so tired, please don’t do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing.”
He softens, melts, resting his head on your lap and squeezing you gently. “Just wanna hold you a little, that’s all.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to one of the many bruises littering your thighs. “Tsukki was greedy tonight, I barely got to see you.” 
Kei scoffs, petulant, but you simply hum and run your fingers through Kuroo’s hair, brushing it out of his face and watching as he becomes molten against you, languid and content now that you’re aware and willfully touching him again. 
He doesn’t like to show it, though he’s getting better at letting himself be vulnerable with you, but as much as he likes the more intense scenes you experiment with, they sometimes make him feel a little on edge afterwards. He likes when you want to touch him, and it often seems that your aftercare is as much for him as it is for you. Kuroo and Akaashi more than any of them need the reminder and reassurances that you love them after harcore play like this. 
“Do you wanna go lay down? We can cuddle and get all cozy since Kei changed the sheets for us.” You tip forward to brush your lips over his forehead, but he lifts himself just in time to catch you in a proper kiss instead. 
“Yeah.” He breathes, putting just enough distance between you that he can rest his forehead against yours. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 
Kei taps his fingertips over your knee, dappling the sensitive skin there until you turn your attention towards him, your brow cocked high and your lips pressed thin to hide your smile. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep on your own tonight?” He asks, palm flat over your thigh and warm against your cool skin. He toys with the edge of your towel and pushes it up, slowly, half a smirk playing with his lips when you shiver at his touch. 
You shake your head, fingers buried thick in Kuroo’s hair, scratching until the man is groaning softly against your thighs and clinging to your waist, unperturbed even as you lean to rest your head on Kei’s shoulder. “No, I wanna sleep with you guys, don’t wanna wake up alone either.” 
He tilts his face down to brush a kiss into your hair, murmuring softly in understanding. His other hand joins yours in petting Kuroo, slow as his nails circle over the nape of his neck. 
“Nobody said it was my turn to be spoiled.” Kuroo tries for cheeky, all velvety confidence and snark, but it’s tempered by his softness and the lovey glow that surrounds him. His eyes are molten whiskey and his face is a little flushed, brows drawn tight together in a look of content adoration. 
“But you were so good to me tonight, Tetsurou.” You murmur, dropping your hand to cup his cheek, feathering your thumb over his lips and biting back a silky sigh when they part at your touch. “Only feels right that I love on you a little after all that.” 
He lets out an odd sort of chuckle, almost sheepish, blushing beautifully beneath your praise like he’s still somehow unaccustomed to it after all this time. 
“Last one to bed has to straighten all the blankets!” Bokuto gives you approximately a single breath’s worth of time for processing before he’s zipping down the hallway, surprisingly nimble despite his size. Akaashi is still standing in the kitchen, drying towel in hand, with a single brow twitching in thinly veiled exasperation. 
He softens when he catches sight of you, however, eyes lingering on Kuroo’s head on your lap and yours and Kei’s hands in his hair. 
“Go to bed, loves.” He hums, crossing his arms low over his chest and leaning against the counter. “I’ll finish up here, it won’t take me too long.” 
Kei shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your temple and ruffling Kuroo’s hair before standing up. “No, I’ll help. We should pack something for Koutarou’s lunch tomorrow anyway. He’ll forget.” 
You watch as he joins Akaashi in the kitchen, a blissful smile toying at your lips as you bask in the warmth of your little family. Kuroo moves, then, getting to his feet with a tired groan that morphs into a hiss when his joints begin to pop and crack.
“Gettin’ old on us, Tetsurou?” You tease, giggling and pulling your legs out of his reach when he tries to playfully swat at them. His arms find their way home around the bend of your waist, lifting you against him until you’re standing fully upright and letting him support your weight.
“I was old twenty years ago.” He huffs, dropping down to hook one of his arms behind your knees, gently gathering you against his chest before taking you into the hallway. 
Bokuto is already waiting for you in your bed, tucked beneath the covers and snuggled into Akaashi’s pillow. He brightens at the sight of you, arms stretched wide for you and Kuroo to fall into. 
So you do, Kuroo’s weight heavy against your back as he presses you between his body and Bo’s, the two smothering you with kisses and wandering hands that soothe your aches and help you melt against them. 
You almost whine when Kuroo presses his hand between your legs, fingers curling gently over your sex, but he doesn’t do more than that, just giving you a simple pressure to ease some of the pain. Bo’s hand glides along the plush of your thigh, the other curled up in the sliver of space between your bodies, where his fingers hook around yours. 
“Gonna miss you guys tomorrow.” His voice is soft, uncharacteristically small.
Your eyes flutter open, mirth spilling into your gaze when you look up to see Bo pouting, worry shining clear as a sunray across his face. 
Your chin lifts, and he’s quick to meet you half-way, lips softened and plush with some of Akaash’s balm. Against his mouth, you murmur– “We’ll miss you too, Kou, but you have a game soon and can’t afford to miss practice. Do you wanna video call during your lunch break so we can all eat together?” 
He brightens, lips curving into a smile that you can feel against your own. Kuroo pushes against you gently, scooting just a bit closer, and then the mattress dips between another body’s weight. Kei, stopping at your bedside just long enough to check on you. 
When a warm, tentative hand reaches across Kuroo to brush over your thigh, you hum into Bo’s mouth and lean into the touch so Kei knows it’s welcome. Grateful that you’re able to keep the AC on, you can already feel how your body begins to heat up, and it’s only going to get worse when the rest finally join you. 
Kuroo’s lips brush against your shoulder. “Want me to put the sheets in the freezer for a minute, baby?” 
You can’t help laughing a little, rolling back so you can look up at him with a wry smile. “I don’t know what weird link you have going on with my body temperature, but I’m fine, thank you.” 
He huffs, affronted and offended even as he traces a path of kisses up the side of your neck, slow and lazy while he rubs his thumb over the edge of your towel. “I’m just a very attentive boyfriend, it’s not weird.”  
“Speaking of attentive boyfriends.” Akaashi’s voice is dry, and Bo immediately sits up to greet him, responsive like a puppy. “Help her sit up so we can get that towel off, the sheets are getting wet.” 
Bokuto is the one to lift you, holding you upright while Kuroo unwraps the wet towel from your body. Akaashi sits on the side of the bed and holds out one of his softer night shirts, one of the ones that are off limits from being stolen by greedy partners. It feels like heaven against your raw skin as he slips it over your head, mindful of how sore your arms are when you push them through the long sleeves. He moves to withdraw, already miles away as he runs through his nightly routine in his head, but you catch him by the arm and press a quick kiss to his hand before he’s out of reach.
“Thank you, Keiji.” You murmur, his wrist twisting so his palm kisses yours, fingers lacing together as he brings your hand to his lips to mirror your gesture, though his kiss lingers longer than yours did.
“Of course, love. Lay down, Kei and I will be in soon.” He pushes on your shoulders, gentle but insistent, and you’re boneless as Bo pulls you back against his chest. Laying down with you curled up in his arms and Kuroo wrapped around you from behind, Bokuto can’t help smiling, the sun in his eyes as he practically glows with warmth, whole in a way that he’d never known he hadn’t been until meeting you. 
Now dressed and ready to go to sleep, Akaashi crawls beneath the covers and settles himself between your legs, his head on your stomach, one of his hands resting on Kuroo’s thigh while Bo’s fingers comb through his hair. 
When you look around to try and catch a glimpse of Kei, you find him standing in the doorway, arms loosely crossed over his chest while he watches the four of you cuddle up, a softness on his face that melts like hot sugar when he meets your gaze, though he can’t quite muster the same angry scowl that he usually hides behind.
But he doesn’t linger long, placing a water bottle on the nightstand before crawling to the other side of the bed so he can slide in beside Bokuto, who immediately rolls onto his back so he can pull him against his chest with a happy little hum. His other arm comes around you, so you join Kei in cuddling into Bo’s sides with Kuroo wrapped around your back. Akaashi is nice and cool between your legs, a balm against the overwhelming heat encasing you on all sides.
A warm hand settles over yours, fingers curling to find home in the spaces between yours, and your eyes flutter open to find Kei watching you with a sleepy expression mirroring your own, cheek squished against Bo’s chest. You move your joint hands to rest over Bokuto’s heart, feeling the steady rhythm of it and how it quickens at your touch. 
“I love you.” You murmur, towards no one in specific but directed at everyone. 
They respond in kind, hands that squeeze you gently and rub soothing swirls into your aching muscles, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin to trace the outlines of bite marks and hickeys, lips ghost along your neck and your face, your arms, the skin of your stomach, everywhere they can reach. They whisper it back, quietly in the way they touch you, the way they treasure you in the afterglow. 
However much pain you’re in tomorrow, it’s worth it for the moments like these, and the moments that will come after you wake up. 
Kuroo will try to insist on carrying you everywhere, even to the bathroom, just to be obnoxious. It’s to hide the worry, the way he’ll tease you to see if you have the energy to even get riled up, push your buttons just to see if you have enough bite to snap. A nervous habit, he can’t help but prod you the more stressed out he is, like he has to gauge how you’re doing first before he himself can relax. 
Never to the point of upsetting you, though. He’ll stop if it’s too much, he always does. He mothers you, makes you healthy meals to eat since he knows the others will be sneaking you junk, and you’re already dreading the spinach smoothie he’s probably going to set in front of you the moment you’re out of bed.
Akaashi will probably make a dessert for you. He knows you like to have brownies or cake with your ice cream, and he likes that you can lay on the couch cuddling with Kuroo or Kei while he bakes so he can still talk to you, so he can still see you. Your aftercare days are as much for Akaashi as they are for you, just a little more than the others. 
It’s the one day where he’ll really allow himself to spoil you, to dote on you without worrying about being “too much.” 
Kei will need to be on you at nearly all times, or at least touching some part of you. In a way, he and Akaashi are similar in the sense that they both feel they need an excuse to be “overly” affectionate, even if in different ways. ‘Kaashi is just nervous about being overbearing, always wary of crossing some unseen line or imaginary boundary that he’s imposed upon himself. Kei, however, just hasn’t gotten to a point yet where he can be openly vulnerable, not easily. 
Having a day for aftercare, or even just a rest day, is the perfect excuse for him to be unabashedly affectionate. He’ll drag you down to the couch and wrap himself around you, long limbs tucked around your body with his face buried in your neck, all under the guise of comforting you as though he doesn’t need it just as much. 
And then Bokuto will come home, sweaty from sprinting directly from the gym because waiting for a bus would take too long. He’ll drop his things in a trail from the front door to wherever you are, apologies on his lips for the complaining he knows he’s going to hear from the others, but then his hands will be on you and he’ll kiss you silly. Bo probably won’t let you go for the rest of the night, forced to share you with Kei who is just as stubborn when push comes to shove. Bokuto hates being away on these kinds of days, he’s only missed one other and it was just as miserable for him then as it will be tomorrow. 
Like he knows, even in his sleep, that you’re thinking of him, Bo pulls you a little closer. He snuggles into you with a soft, sleepy breath that spills across your lips, leaves you feeling warm and dewy inside at how he responds to you even when dreaming. You kiss him once, gently, then tuck your face beneath his chin, close to where Kei is curled up. His head tilts, a silent request, and you kiss him too. 
Sleep comes quickly, easily after everything you’ve been through. You’re tucked in on all sides with an overwhelming amount of body heat that is barely kept at bay by the AC. Exhausted, sore, your arms still abuzz with the remnants of your three-edible excursion, and you drift off content with the knowledge that this is likely going to be the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. 
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kooberryfields4ever · 5 months
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of course first post has to be nsfw blog rite of passage…… my take on the nsfw alphabet :3 gonna go thru and edit a bunch of fics to start posting but until then have this !!!!! been thinking long and hard abt heeseung&02z …….. needed to get this off my chest rly
cw warnings : major nsfw under the cut, cumplay, masturbation, piv sex, etc etc
MDNI !
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
i don’t see heeseung as swaying particularly dominant/submissive…… not necessarily vanilla but almost lazy in the way he has sex so i don’t see aftercare being a big deal to him
ofc expect the bare minimum: cleans u up, helps change the sheets, kisses n cuddles
heavy on the cleans them up.. ..… …. can’t help but think abt how much heeseung LOVES to see his partner covered in his cum, whether he finishes on ur chest, ur belly, ur thighs or ur pussy doesn’t matter to him he just loves to see it🤤🤤🤤….. .. … so yeah cleaning u up is a necessity almost every time
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
fav part of himself is his hands…… do i even need to elaborate
just loves touching his partner and why else would he find any other body part as good as his hands when his other body parts can’t grab a handful of ur tits/ass ????
fav part of his partner’s is drum roll plz………….. their tummy
when he’s eating u out he just can’t help but reach out n press his fingers into ur hips n his thumb into ur belly….. .. though he loves to cum anywhere on u his all time favourite is ur tummy, could get him hard again easily if he sees his cum pooling in and around ur bellybutton urrtgghhhhg
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
i literally cannot see heeseung not loving cumplay . like come on
self-admitted jealous type ……… yeah it’s over ur getting painted with his cum and fucked full if u even so much as mention another man
messy with it, loves cumming inside but give him the opportunity to pull out and finish somewhere he can rly see it and it’s a done deal
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
watches league of legends porn . it’s miss fortune …. not elaborating.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
i reckon he’s experienced enough to know what goes where and all that ….. would probs be able to be vocal abt what he likes
i can’t see him getting much time in his schedule to explore his sexuality much so count jacking off and enjoying subgenres of porn as a pillar for experience as well
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
missionary DONT YAWN. just loves being able to bury his head in ur tits and fuck u slow and hard until he cums … and then guess what ……. ur tummy is right there
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
i’d say he can be a bit of a goofball, i don’t see him taking sex too seriously
not necessarily the type to just crack jokes during but not opposed to having a giggle if one of u makes a silly noise or if someone walks in
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
trims but isn’t too fussed about it really, makes him feel manly when he sees his full bush. occasional groomer of the pubes
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
can be super romantic if he rly rly misses u but idk i don’t see heeseung as the sentimental romantic type much…… likes sex cos it feels good and its an excuse to look at ur tits
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
frequent enough . he is a libra after all
probs the type to get a bit bored on his day off and have a wank after going 3/11 on a league game
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
cum cum cum cum cum cum cum
like idk heeseung seems sooo messy to me during sex like if he eats u out he wants to see u dripping onto the sheets nd i don’t need to mention the cumming on ur body thing again ….
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
his bed, he likes it best when ur both a little tired but too horny to sleep so he can just push ur panties to the side and slip in to fuck u slow until ur cumming around him
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
ur boobies . whether they’re out or under a shirt or small or big he just loves seeing them…. plays with ur nipples while u scroll on ur phone in bed, maybe pulls up ur shirt n sucks on them until he makes himself too horny to stop n he has to fuck u (and paint ur tits white)
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
anything too public … likes having u to himself and when ur in the privacy of his bedroom/dorm he gets to make u all dirty, he can’t do that without getting arrested in public unfortunately ://
probs hard dom stuff …. maybe not too shy for a spank here and there but the idea of being rly dominant or degrading u or tying u up etc is just not for him
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
loves receiving, he gets to cum on ur face and tits which is always a bonus👍
not a selfish lover but definitely gets bored of giving head sometimes …. thinks quite literally with his dick like he needs to see it stuffed in u
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
i think heeseung is generally slow and sensual but if u asked he could fuck u faster n harder
he just loves how u clench when his strokes r slow and deep nd he can press against ur cervix without bruising u and ruining the fun
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
quickies are not his forté ! he’s definitely not opposed to them but he prefers being able to take his time…. quickies mean sensible cumming and heeseung would rather wait…..
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
i cannot see him as a risk taker at all, riskiest he would go is having u bounce on his cock in the living room while nobody else is home, but even then he’s just thinking abt how close his bedroom is and how easy it’d be to pick u up while ur impaled on his dick nd take u to bed :((
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
a sturdy 2 rounds if u guys haven’t fucked for a little while, he’s still young his refractory period is in training !!!!
particularly statistically more likely to want a round 2 if he’s a) not tired and b) can see his cum plastered somewhere on ur body (source is my thalamus) …… drives him crazy nd makes him almost desperate to fill u up as well
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
got gifted a fleshlight one time for his birthday but it’s just stayed tucked away in his wardrobe…. tried it once and it was just not as good as the real deal
would be open to using a toy on u for the sole reason that it might make u squirt and he is desperate to see u get that messy
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
gives in instantly . u just need to whip out a titty and he is a goner…. very very weak willed man…..
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
main vocalist like …. do i need to say more
prettiest softest moans uve ever heard ….. breathing into ur chest and whispering how close he is and how bad he needs to fill u up into ur ear
not loud enough for anyone but u to hear tho…. but that’s fine bc u like being able to have him all to urself ^.^
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
can picture him getting randomly horny while playing games while u lay on his bed …. pulls off his headphones to face u and asks u so nicely to come suck his cock while he plays … and of course u do because how could u say no to that face :(( he ends up losing his lane and going afk at base because he’s too busy watching u swallow his entire length like a pro . sorry to his team but the 15 minute afk ban was so worth it
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
not huge but not small, average
a good 5.5 with some juicy balls
circumcised 🙏
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
pretty high but not in the way that its hard to control …… like he just kind of just always wants u
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
after he cleans u up he’s out like a light …… good luck tryna get him to wake up
just accept that ur tits are his pillow for the next 7 hours as he sleeps
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extra-stout-stories · 22 days
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Stuck At Work
Reblog if you like meet-cute soft feedist romance and fat4fat. Nothing scandalous or explicit in this one, just a tale of fast food fun on the job, written in response to this request. Thanks for the ask, anon!
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She didn't mind being stuck at work with him for the night.
Tuesday nights were quiet after the dinner rush, with not many customers stopping in, either at the drive-thru or the counter. On really slow nights, like tonight, the manager sometimes had her cover both. She couldn't quite reach both the indoor cash register and the drive-thru window from the same chair, but it was just a couple of steps from one to the other, so she spent most of the downtime scrolling through her phone and sneaking glances at him.
He was busy in the kitchen, preparing burger orders as they came in and refreshing the contents of the french fryer and shake machines. He had a chair of his own that he spent most of his time in when it was just him in the kitchen, and she couldn't help admiring how deftly he moved, reaching with a calculated economy of motion to flip a burger with one hand and pull a shake with the other.
She couldn't help admiring his belly, either. Their shifts didn't overlap very often, and while they weren't the only two fat people who worked at the restaurant, they were by far the two biggest. She felt a sense of kinship with him. Kinship, but also attraction. The way his folds of fat seemed to swallow up the shirt of his regulation uniform, the way she could sometimes catch just a glimpse of belly peeking out at the bottom… the sight of him made her more than a little bit flustered, and she couldn't help imagining what he might look like with his uniform off, how deliciously big and soft he'd be if she had him in her bedroo--
Snap out of it, she thought to herself, as the intercom of the drive thru crackled and she punched in an order for a cheeseburger and two kids' meals. He'd think you were crazy if you told him about feedism. And you're not supposed to flirt at work. She sighed. Even a slow night's work kept them just busy enough that it was hard to carry on a conversation in more than snippets, and after the disaster with her last boyfriend she had gotten cautious about admitting to guys that not only did she not mind being fat, she liked it, and she liked it when they were fat too. Another lonely night at the register, she thought to herself before sneaking another glance at him. His back was turned, and she could see his enormous rolls of backfat quivering in the snug uniform shirt as he reached to dip another basket of fries in the fryer. At least I get to enjoy the eye candy.
The intercom crackled to life again. The car was definitely full of teenagers, and they were definitely drunk. Or high. Probably both. She tried to make out the names of particular value meals from the din of at least four or five voices shouting their orders, changing them halfway through, cracking up laughing for no reason, circling back around to ask for the same thing they asked for in the first place. By the time they were finished she had cued up a half-dozen burger meals with sodas, three chicken meals, two extra baskets of fries, and (thanks to a particularly loudmouthed voice who kept saying "I can't decide!" in a mock whine), a trio of extra-large thick shakes, one each of chocolate, strawberry and vanilla.
"Big order coming in, huh?" She could just hear his voice over the crackle of the fryer. Her double chins quivered as she turned her head to see him smiling. "Yup. At least it's the last one for the night. 11:59 on the dot."
"I'll get to work." He was as fast and efficient as ever, and a moment later she was hefting herself up from the chair with a grunt and stepping over to the window between the kitchen and the register where he had just placed a tray of food. Suddenly she blushed. My shirt is riding up, she thought. Gripping it with both hands, she tugged it down quickly and fiercely where it had started to expose a few inches of her own swaying lower belly. Fortunately, his back was turned again. She reached for the tray of food.
"Wait, there's more. Since we're closing up, I'll just bring the rest out to you now. That way you don't have to make two trips."
"Thanks." She took another few steps and slipped into the drive-thru booth, her hips just barely brushing the doorframe. She set down the tray and slid open the window to pass the bags out. Behind her, she heard the kitchen door open.
Suddenly, there was a sound of coughing and laughter, a deafening roar and a streak of light as the car sped past the window, a screech as it braked suddenly at the turn out of the parking lot, and a final roar as it sped off into the night.
"Damn it." She slid the window closed and turned around. "Dine and dash."
"More like drive-thru and das-- WHOA!"
She hadn't realized he was almost on top of her at the entrance to the booth. How did she not notice? He must have stepped towards her just as the engine was revving. With the same swiftness he used when he was juggling the fryer, the grill and the shake machine, he managed to drop the tray he had been holding while catching the handles of the bags that had been sitting on it. He instinctively stretched out the other hand out to steady himself, though, and it crashed straight into her shoulder, sending her spinning at an angle back into the drive-thru booth. Losing his own balance as she stumbled, he swung forwards, just barely avoiding a crash into the plexiglas window as he caught himself with his shoulder against the wall opposite the one where her back was pressed.
They were face to face and belly to belly.
"Whew." For a moment all they could do was breathe, heavy and ragged with the sudden exertion. She saw him try to take a step back, only to find that between the window and the doorframe, his ass and thighs were wedged in so tightly by the pressure of their bellies that he couldn't do it. He tried again.
"I think we're stuck." There was such a sheepish look on his face but she couldn't help laughing. And with her face just a foot or two from his -- their bellies took up a lot of space -- she was even more struck than usual by his boyishly charming eyes, his quivering triple chins, his enormous fat cheeks that dimpled as he smiled back. "What a way to end the night, huh? At least it's closing time."
"This is like something out of a fetish cartoon!" she blurted out. Oh my god. I can't believe I just said that.
"Like a what?" There was a quizzical expression on his face, but still a hint of a smile on his lips.
"I mean -- it's like something you'd see on the Internet."
"Yeah? Where on the Internet?" He laughed, and when his belly began to jiggle, hers did too. She realized suddenly that both of their shirts had ridden up, and the bottoms of their bellies were touching, skin-to-skin. Despite the embarrassment of the situation, and the further embarrassment of putting her foot in her mouth, the sudden realization was electric. It felt so good, so warm, so fat…
Snap out of it! she told herself once again. "I don't know," she said, suddenly desperate to change the subject and get out of the booth. "Places."
"Places, huh." The smile on his face was still there. "Well, talk about places. We're stuck in the drive through booth." He managed to extend an arm out to pull the curtain down over the window. Reversed from their vantage point, the letters on the opaque plastic curtain read: CLOSED.
"There you go. Now at least nobody on the Internet will see us." He grinned. "I'm not sure I can get out of here without either tearing my shirt off or giving myself a nasty scrape on that doorframe. But at least we won't starve to death." He wedged one of the bags between their bellies, opened it up, and pulled out a double cheeseburger.
She couldn't help laughing. "How can you be so relaxed? We're stuck in the booth!" Something about his tone of voice was putting her at ease, almost like he didn't mind being stuck here with her, their fat bellies pressed together as their shirts rode up. But that's silly, she thought to herself. He's just trying to calm me down.
"Well, there are worse places to be. And like I said, we're not gonna starve." He unwrapped the cheeseburger and took a bite. "Unless I get flensed by that doorframe, it's actually pretty comfy."
"Flensed?"
"Yeah. Strip my blubber off. I mean, I am kind of a whale." Seeing the sudden blush on her face, he grinned. "C'mon, I know I'm a big guy. And a big guy's gotta be able to have a sense of humor sometimes. Like when he's stuck in the drive-thru booth with the cutest girl on the entire fast food strip."
At that, she blushed even further.
"Aren't you hungry? You don't eat when you get nervous?" He popped the last of the cheeseburger into his mouth, reached into the bag, and pulled out an extra-large carton of fries. "But seriously, I've seen how you look at me sometimes. You're an FFA. It's obvious. And I'll be honest, it's hard not to look at you that way sometimes, too."
Her breath had returned to normal from the shock of crashing into him, but her heart was beating faster now. He laughed and lifted a handful of french fries to her mouth. "Here, eat! If we're stuck here forever, at least it'll be a good last meal."
The mouthful of moist, juicy fries was what finally put her fully at ease. "You're right. A good meal and good company." I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought as she reached a hand out to touch the side of his exposed belly. "I'm glad it was you and not the manager."
He smiled. "That's for sure. You know I never said anything to you because it's against HR to flirt at work, right? But so is eating the food from a dine-and-dash. And I'm pretty sure getting stuck in the booth is against the rules too. So we might as well enjoy ourselves."
"Good thing those kids ordered all three kinds of shake."
"You can say that again. If it were just vanilla I'd get bored." He winked. "Tell that one to your mysterious Internet site, big girl."
She laughed. "Okay, you got me. It's feedist stuff. How did you know?"
"I can see your phone from the kitchen. You're not supposed to be scrolling 'hashtag: fat boys' at work. But I don't mind. Do you think I got this fat by working at a fast food restaurant?" He paused for a beat. "Well, okay, I did. But doing it on purpose was the fun part."
"Mmm. Can I do this on purpose?" Squeezing his belly with both hands, she leaned in to kiss him. With her tongue already in his mouth, mingling with the lingering taste of the french fries and anticipating the milkshakes, all he could do was put a hand on her own exposed belly and squeeze back yes.
She didn't mind being stuck at work with him for the night.
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kuradex · 2 months
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I wanna know about your art style. How you draw like that??
i tried putting down considerations as well as a (very) general step by step of what i do; if there's anything more specific you want me to explain lmk i guess?
first off, general (self imposed) constraints / purpose of project -- this informs what i draw & how i draw it
i.e. "kuradex" is pretty different from my normal art (my 5 latest rough illustrations):
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or my monster hunter charms:
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or my pokemon tcg contest illustrations that im not allowed to show until june (😉):
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although i've said its for merch purposes, ive started drawing these because i wanted to practice conveying "liveliness" and noticing key features / nuances of a given design, but i didn't want to spend a large amount of time on each one.
so what i came up with is
i want to draw things on-model in terms of proportions ( + take note of weight / tapering of shapes / etc )
no backgrounds & minimal "props"
experiment with / practice line/texture/color/flow/rhythm/etc
spend <1 hr on each pokemon on average (this is a bit more difficult for me to track, but for example, the cyndaquil line took me less than 42min to color, combined, and means at some point in time instead of focusing on cleaning up the art as much as i can, i stop after cleaning up most of it)
that said, the pose & the rhythm/flow of lines are key in conveying liveliness, and if i have a concept in mind i usually end up going with it, but i may go thru a few if i dont.
i consider pokemon origin / lore or a key point in its design, and if i'm particularly stuck, i try looking up pokemon card illustrations for inspiration. (i noticed the research i do is essentially a truncated version of how Atsushi Furusawa does research before doing an illustration.
(& even despite all this i do get stuck sometimes and don't exactly understand a pokemon and just opt for "as cute or cool as i can make it i guess?", but i think it's part of the process...?) (theoretically things that are A Shape should be really easy to draw but with what i want to practice in perspective i find them difficult...)
this is from my latest paid req but these are my first sketches of chesnaught -- i was thinking of how one of its inspirations is a warrior / tanker from RPGs, so i drew a pose where it's shielding its face.
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i do another pass and take note of details.
in general i draw overlapping shapes and erase (it's a bit visible on one of the spikes)
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because i opt for quickness i start coloring at this point -- i actually just use a colored "color burn" layer & i actually colorpick official art & lay down messy flats & set the color layer to 60%
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60% multiply layer for shadows. i tend to use both hard and soft brushes
for bigger projects i would use 2-3 shadow layers to create more "layered" shadows
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here i use overlay layer (60%). this is just throwing colors at it and seeing what works and doesn't work. i personally prefer to throw red under the eye and a yellow or blue near the top of the head. this is mostly done with a soft brush
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before this point, everything is under the rough lines, but now i actually start drawing/painting over it, color picking the colors that have been laid down from the previous steps and cleaning up / rendering textures (making the green on its arms look fuzzy) / fixing anything that i forgot or looks too off (i.e. the spike on its shoulder and the way the tail curves)
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I could potentially keep cleaning this up, but this is where i usually stop 🫡
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greenunoreversecard · 2 months
Note
OMG HI?! I HAD NO CLUE YOU TOOK REQUESTS AND WROTE FICS?? IM HERE FOR A REQUEST GREENY !!
anyway, my request is for husk x optimist!reader, like the reader is this person who tries to see the light in all the crappy situations hell throws at them and eventually just can’t take it anymore and goes down to husk’s bar and gets a drink (which is a rare occurrence for reader) and then just starts rambling on about how life is just awful for them and that it’s just so hard for them to push through and act like everything’s just fine and dandy? and husk helps em thru it and carries em to bed? :)
gn! or fem! reader is fine for this, whatever you want!! feel free to take some creative liberties with this haha i trust you!!
i can’t wait to see it!!
— mio 💕
jsjdowid I do!!! I also try and request on others pages to help spread the love :p
The Healers Broken Heart
->Husk x Gn! Reader
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Youve always been know to rival Charlie's pep and optimism.
But it seems today just wasn't in your favor, was it?
Maybe it was sleeping through your alarm. Maybe it was seeing someone you'd rather leave in the past. Maybe it was the date itself. The reasoning isn't to important as you make your way through the doors of the hotel and beeline for the bar.
"Instead of a drink can you just hand me the fullest bottle of pink Whitney you have?"
Husk raises his eyebrow at you, before letting out a low whistle.
"Damn. Shit day?"
"Something like that."
"Well, angel drank the last of theWhitney, but i got everclear, and a couple flavored vodkas and some whiskeys, if any of those suit your fancy?" His voice low and gruff as he quietly lists the available alcohols.
"Fuck it, gimme the everclear"
He whistles lightly again, turning from the glass he was cleaning to the display behind him, grabbing the unopened bottle of everlcear and setting it in front of you.
He watches as you screw of the cap, and throw it back, chugging a good amount of the alcohol, unflinching.
"I was gunna ask if you want a chaser with that, but by the looks of it you don't." He pauses a moment, eyebrows still raised in shock as he watched you drink like a alchoholic of 30 years, before remembering himself and going back to the blank slate he normally keeps his face at.
"Wanna talk about it?" He treds carefully. But this question seems to hit the dam holding back the floodgates of emotions, and tears lightly prick you eyes so you take another large swig.
"Life fucking sucks, everything fucking sucks and I don't want to deal with it anymore." You go to take a third large swig, before his hands stop you.
"Maybe wait. Everclears stronger than a muthafucka, so give it a minute to set in, and then decide if you need more." He says, prying the bottle from your iron grip. "And when your ready, elaborate."
And so, after a moment, when you feel it start to set in, you do. You tell him all of your woes. Tears start streaming, at some point.
And at some point, Husk crossed the island between you two, and brought you head to his chest, gently stroking your hair and listening. Listening and caring. That's not something your particularly used to, So to speak.
And at some point, in your now drunken stupor. He dries your tears, assurance pouring from his lips like a waterfall, as he carries you up the stairs, and towards your room, setting you gently on the bed and helping you when you ask to change from jeans to sweat, always remaining ever the gentleman. He sets advil and a glass of water on your nightstand, before standing in front of where you lay, bleary eyed and lightly kisses your forehead.
And as you fall asleep, you realise. That maybe, just maybe, its ok to not be ok.
And maybe it's OK to cross some professional lines with the bartender.
Because in the end, you won't want have anyone but husk listen to you and care for you, and Carry you home.
Even the healers need to be healed.
----
A/N ending note: Hope this was OK, and hoped you liked it!! Thank you for requesting, i really liked it and enjoyed writting it<333 sorry if its short fiejfjks
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raggedytiger · 8 days
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Where did you go? We miss you!!!
hello everynyan... I MISS YOU TOO!! i'm sorry for the inactivity guys!
in general i'm the worst for replying to things so i'm really sorry if you have an ask or message that's being left behind. i stress abt it lol 😭 while i have drifted away from tadc a bit, the main reason is my own brain.. i got a little overwhelmed (with love!) and i have lots to think about with my final project at college. i find it hard to hop back in after disappearing without a trace!! i've been doing some walten files stuff over on my regular art blog but i havent been making a whole lot of fanart due to the general stress and buzz of LIFE!!!
rest easy knowing penny and agatha have not left my heart, though. they live there. it's april now and they're really enjoying the cool sun. agatha has opened the lovely tall south-facing window to let the breeze in, penny is watching the birds. they've put on a belle & sebastian album, and 'mayfly' is spinning softly under the needle.
i still have a vague plot for them post-circus where they figure out the mystery of it all, willingly or not, and its psychologically troubling for them. i think of them as my little ocs now and i like to play around with them as characters outside of tadc canon too! more tadc stuff ive been thinking abt though has been redesigns. i have always wanted to play with it because as much as it's a well put-together pilot made by talented people, some details irk me and i reaaally want to switch them up, particularly with jax and some atmosphere/worldbuilding... i love the odd mix of characters way too much not to mess around with them a little.
i will try and dig thru some asks soon! you are some truly lovely people on here and i hope you dont mind the hiatus too much! mutuals i miss you <3
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ironstrange1991 · 1 year
Text
Too Tired
+18 smut
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Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Stephen is tired from a mission and after two rounds with you, you still want one more. Will he be able to met with your expectations?
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Its a smut, but a soft and romantic one. P in V, Oral sex with female and male receiving, mastrubation with female and male receiving, lots of dirty talk.
A/N: Guys I have been thru a lot in my personal life so thats the reason why I have disappeared but I love be in here, I love this comunity and I love to write for Stephen, right now its the only thing that is keeping me alive LITERALLY. So belive me when I say I wrote this from rock bottom and took this words from the bottom of my heart. I hope you enjoy it.
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Stephen rolled onto his side of the bed, body sweaty, breathing heavily after two rounds with you, the second being a particularly long one. He was spent.
You were apart for two weeks and when he got home that morning you simply attacked him demanding to be sated of all the love and desire you felt for him.
Stephen had a relatively high sex drive, but sometimes he was surprised by you. Positively of course. That morning he made you come three times, once on his face, twice on his cock. He came hard twice himself, the first time in your mouth and the second inside you and yet as he threw himself back on the pillows trying to regulate his breathing you crawled into his chest placing kisses on his neck, moving up to his face, his cheek, rubbing your face against his goatee and  squeezed your thighs together like a cat in heat and he knew it was going to be a long day and he wasn't complaining, he loved that about you but to be quite honest he didn't know if he could meet your demands and expectations.
Stephen was tired. The mission had been a long one and although he came back in one piece this time with no bruises or broken bones, he could feel the weariness getting to him and as much as he wanted to immediately go for a third round he doubted he could get an erection that fast.
You cupped his face pulling him to your lips and stuck your tongue in his mouth kissing him so hot it brought a moan from the back of his throat. "Oh sweetheart..." He caressed your face watching as you bit your bottom lip "I love it when you kiss me like that"
You grinned and kissed him again, this time giving his bottom lip a little nip. You took his hand and brought it down between your legs. He sighed feeling how wet you were again when minutes before he had cleaned you up. "You're insatiable, sweetheart, look at that, all wet for me again" You lay back on the mattress and spread your legs wider for him "I've been without you for two weeks Stephen, do you have any idea how hard that was? I I had to resort to other methods, but it's not the same as having the Master of the Mystic Arts fucking me."
Stephen chuckled, he propped himself up on his elbow as he dipped his middle finger deeper inside you, slowly fucking you with rhythmic strokes. You moaned louder. "Is that why you called me in the middle of the night? Because your toys alone weren’t enough to make you come?"
He added a second finger to draw a passionate sigh from your lips. You shook your head, your eyes were closed "I needed to hear your voice" You confessed.
"Aham, just my voice or all the dirty things I whispered to you on the phone?"
"Both... Ah Stephen I want you to make me come again"
Stephen kissed you. Not a simple kiss, but that kiss where his tongue wandered to each corner of your mouth, sucking your tongue hard and biting your lips in the process. You could have sworn that only that kiss was capable of making you come.
You groaned loudly, your hand on top of Stephen's hand showing him exactly what you wanted. He managed to put his thumb on your clit and started circling it slowly. "Like that?" He asked in your ear in that wonderful whispered voice. You could only nod your head in approval, your mouth went agape.
"Oh I know sweetheart. I know exactly how you like it. You need to have just the right amount of pressure here, don't you?"
You shook your head vehemently.
"I know. Just let go then. I know you so well, my love." He put a little more pressure on his thumb as he moved both fingers in an intense rhythm and he could feel your walls tightening around his fingers. Oh he loved that feeling. He loved it much more when it was in his cock, but it felt powering. Knowing he was responsible for leaving you in that state made him feel more powerful than any spell.
"Oh Stephen, you're going to make me come..."
Stephen hummed in your ear and nibbled your earlobe reveling in the way your skin prickled "Come on, sweetheart, come hard for me, show me how much you love me"
He didn't have to ask twice. The combination of the intense penetration of his fingers, the friction of his thumb on your clit and his voice whispered in your ear was explosive. You came. Hard.
Your moan was almost a whimper, but Stephen insisted on swallowing it with another breathtaking kiss.
He took his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips, sucking them provocatively "You taste so good"
You smiled charmingly at him opening your arms and he throws himself into them giving you a crushing hug and biting your neck rubbing his goatee there making you shiver and giggle. He rolled to the side, but kept you firm in his arms, your head on his chest, your hand caressed his chest and went down to his belly and kept going down, not satisfied you started giving light kisses on his chest that quickly went from Innocent to provocative, your hand grabbed his cock which was only half hard.
"I dont know if I can do it again sweetheart, even though I want it, I am tired."
You hummed undaunted by the challenge ahead and held it tight in your hand stroking it up and down slowly.
He squeezed you in his arms and you turned to kiss him and God, that kiss alone would be more than enough to make his cock hard if he wasn't so tired. Even so, the way you moved and your kiss was enough to bring some life to it, though still not enough.
"Put it in your mouth sweetheart, make me hard for you."
You were moving to put it in your mouth when he pulled you past his head, putting you on all fours and bringing your pussy up to his head giving him a privileged view of your soaked slit. You didn't wait a second to put it in your mouth and he didn't wait to grab your thighs and pull you to his mouth sucking and surprising you with delicious voracity.
Stephen wasn't small even half flaccid, but as he hardened in your mouth he grew and you loved to see that transformation. Stephen had a delicious cock, but more than that, his cock was beautiful. Just like him. Big, thick, with the pink tip and bulging veins that pulsed in your mouth.
Stephen loved to suck you. He could be hard just by smelling and drinking all your fluids, but he also loved the way you rolled on his face without any shame. You had a hungry clit, he loved to take it between his teeth when it was all swollen and red from your arousal, to flick his tongue on it or simply suck on it and feel his entire body quiver in response. Pleasuring you was always the best way to get Stephen hard.
He loved your moans, he loved the way you reveled in your own pleasure and he especially loved knowing that he was responsible for leaving you in that state.
Stephen knew all your weaknesses, he knew for example that you came faster if you had friction on your clit along with the penetration, he also knew very well that getting you face down from behind pinning you against the bed with his body weighting above you as he rubbed the beard on your neck and whispered all kinds of filth in your ear was the most delicious way to make you come and fall head over heels in love with him.
Just like he knew that, like now, you loved being able to wiggle in his face and rub your pussy in his goatee.
But he didn't want you to come yet, your next orgasm would be on his cock which was already rock hard for you again.
"That's right sweetheart, you are awesome, look how hard you left me again. Come here, ride me. I want to feel you bouncing on my cock"
You were more than happy to comply with his request. And a second later you were directing his cock at your entrance completely soaked by your lubrication and Stephen's saliva.
You moaned as you lowered allowing him to go deep inside you, your walls stretching to accommodate him inside you. It didn't matter that he'd fucked you twice already, it was always quite a challenge to contain him inside you.
"Fuck you feel so good, love. Move please, ride me hard" You leaned against his chest and started rocking on his cock, alternating between back and forth and up and down movements. Increasing your pace slowly, the noises of his cock moving in and out of your soaked pussy was always so delicious, it made you extremely horny for him.
Stephen took one of his hands around your waist and grabbed your tit with the other letting you do all the work.
"Oh sweetheart you do it so good, I love it when you fuck me like that"
It wasn't common for Stephen to relinquish control in bed, usually he did all the work being dominant all the time and you loved that about him, but sometimes when he was tired he chose to let you be in control and the result was always extremely pleasurable for both  and you knew he was a lot more tired than he let on.
Even from that and from the way his cock was throbbing violently inside you, you knew he wouldn't last.
"Fuck, if it continues at this rate I'm going to come, sweetheart, I can't hold back, you feel too good"
You were so close to your orgasm that stopping wasn't an option. "I am almost there, Stephen. Hold it" You bit your bottom lip bending forward to get just a little more friction "Slap my ass"
Stephen grinned and complied.  You moaned loudly "Again"
He did it. "Again" He did it again and then it happened. Your entire body shook on top of him, your walls squeezing his cock so hard and pulling him to his too. "Oh thats right sweetheart... oh fuck, fuck..." Stephen spilled inside you and you loved that feeling.
You collapsed on top of him and Stephen wrapped you in his arms putting you on the bed but keeping you in his arms.
"That was... intense" You finally said and then you both giggled.
Stephen kissed your lips lightly and got up going to the bathroom and came back with a cloth. He cleaned you up and then cleaned himself up and then came back to bed holding out his arm for you to lie comfortably next to him. You rested your head on his shoulder and caressed his face lightly watching him. His eyes were red with sleep.
"Poor thing, I took advantage of you a lot, didn't I?"
He smirked, but his eyes were practically closing by themselves "I pretty much enjoyed every second of it"
You smiled cupping his face and pulling it to your lips. You kissed him softly.
"Yeah I know. And you were amazing as always, but I will let you sleep now, Stephen. You deserve it."
He hummed squeezing you in his arms "Thank you sweetheart"
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Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)
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aziraphales-library · 20 days
Text
Lost Fic #177
Not specific lost fics, but I’ve spent weeks looking for fics likes these and haven’t really managed to find any, so we’re throwing them out in the hope our followers know of some!…
1. Hello lovely mods 💕 Ever since season 2 aired alot of people started shipping other angels with demons other than Crowley/aziraphale and Beelzebub/Gabriel and honestly I've been obsessed with the idea particularly an idea someone proposed that alot of angels and demons are actually soulmates, I've read a couple of fics with aziraphale/Crowley as soulmates (that i actually found about thru this blog thank you very much) but not really seen fics with other angel/demon pairings so i was wondering if you have come across a fic with this particular idea And thank you so much for your hard work!! - anon
2. hi!! could i please request established relationship fics where Crowley is physically affectionate? like kisses all over, hugs from behind, hair petting, spooning, ETC? thanks so much and have a great day - anon
3. Hi there :) I'm wanted to know if you know two different kind of fics I would like to read, no specific ones. 1. Fics where other Demons start to warm up to Aziraphale? Not replacing Crowley, or necessarily becoming obesessed with Zira. But like, a demon realising that he is an Angel that's not going to smite him just for being a Demon and finding him interesting because he's so nice to them (if unprovoced) and yet not falling. A Bonus would be Crowley not being a fan of the new friendship, since Aziraphale is his Angel, of course. He noticed his kindness with lil Bastard tendencys year before, after all. And 2. Fics where Aziraphale is a kid? For whatever reason. And Crowley is looking after him until he's turned back or something? If that has been asked before sorry. Been scanning the tags and saw nothing that could lead me to it :D Anyway, hope you could help me and thanks in any case for trying 😁 Toodles 👋 - @belowperfect (we have a few de-aged fics here, but there just aren't many)
4. Do you know of any fics where Crowley loses control of his demonic powers or ones where Aziraphale loses control of his angelic powers? Thank you again for exposing us to so many great works! It can be daunting trying to find a certain type of fic. - anon
5. I'm not even sure this fic even exists tho. It's was a description of an fanart. I was just wondering if any fics matches that description "Aziraphale loves Crowley and Crowley loves Aziraphale, but Aziraphale has bought into the belief that demons cant love, so he doesn't realize his love is requited (and is hoping that sex is enough to cure him)" - @anonymoustitans (we have a few posts like this, but not with the sex-cure aspect)
If you know any fics that fit the bill please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)
- Mod D
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anonmojito · 9 days
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As an absolute sucker for A/B/O Au's I love the idea of Kim Suho getting thrown into that kind of verse.
Imagine living your life, dying (?) And waking up to the concept of alpha, beta & omegas being the norm???
Plus the number of changes he'd have to deal with in his new body (omega!Lloyd hc).
This naturally brings only trouble for Javier (ノ^o^)ノ
It turned into a ramble more than anything tbh. Don't mind that <3 if there's anything plot vise I forgot/overlooked thru this it's cause my memory is A s s)
Javier POV lowkey:
Lloyd couldn't get any weirder. To add onto his sudden change in demeanor, he'd begun to get reckless with his scent as well. A scent similar to a Clementine or Tangerine that wafts in waves whenever Lloyd is particularly pleased with himself or got his way with another contract. Its a sharp contrast to the smell of booze everyone was used to, and it more often than not left a few townsmen sputtering when they spoke with him. Javier was left to deal with this change too, except he was beside his master 24/7. When that scent would hit him full force every morning, leave his nose twitching when Lloyd gets into the rhythms of his new work and when it calms into something comforting around noon; when the days almost gone and Lloyd decides to rest.
Javier first chokes up this lack of scent control to Lloyd's cold turkey sobriety. But it's been weeks now. Almost two months and Lloyd still hasn't tried to restrain his scent. Worse, others seem to be picking up on it as well. Loitering around the young master when they get the chance, chatting it up now that Lloyd wasn't defaulting to throwing chairs and yelling. Lloyd himself doesn't seem to enjoy it either; after a few minutes of chatter his lip would start to twitch and that scent of Tangerine (it was definitely closer to tangerines than clementines) would sour. Javier learns to take that as close enough a hint to pry his master away from the crowd, spill a white lie about how he's needed elsewhere and get Lloyd some air. He tries not to be pleased about how Lloyd visibly relaxes when it's just the two of them.
"Master Lloyd–" Javier is at his wits end. He's a patient man. Strong willed and resilient when it comes to most obstacles. His Master however? His loud , arragont, obnoxious at times master being this stupid? Javier is a patient man but he's a man nonetheless. A Knight who's had to deal with his masters turbulent scent that just doesn't want to leave him alone. And worse, Lloyd turns back to him with a genuine look of confusion (as genuine as it can be). Javier ends up questioning his master through a locked face and Lloyd in response looks bewildered. "The drinking must have hit me worse than I thought" is all he gets. Javier refuses the sleeping spell that night, throws a hand over his masters mouth before he can get a word in and declares to help him control his scent again. From then on they spend an hour every night before bed going through the motions, and Lloyd (after months) finally learns to control his own scent. Javier sighs in relief, and tries not to think about how he misses that familiar tangerine scent.
Master Lloyd seems to loose his filter as well. Not when around the staff, count or contracted men he's hired no. Only when it's just the two of them, in a moment of what Javier could've hoped was peace before his master opens his mouth. "You smell like mint." he says unabashed. "I'm safe when you're here aren't I?" He laughs with no shame. "I trust you." He declares. Javier understands this is comradery of some kind. A trust and faith in him that no one else has given him before. His master is far too good at feeding that quiet voice in the back of his mind, and Javier let's him. (Alpha instincts have low standards lmao)
It's after they get back to the estate that Lloyd gets his heat. It's not hard to notice. He asks for seconds during meals, sleeps late into the mornings, speaks more with his summons than with anyone outside the estate and avoids half the staff like the plague. It's rather obvious when that overripe scent of tangerine clings to his skin and his expressions screams dazed more than anything. The count had noticed, Javier had as well, but Lloyd hadn't. Despite being days into Pre-heat, his master still drags himself out of bed and goes about the motions, despite how miserable he looks. It ends up being Javier's job (once again) to pull him aside and question him. "My what-" is all he gets before Javier realizes he has more on his plate than he expected.
(+I like to think heats can be sexual and non-sexual given the circumstances!)
His pillow is missing. Javier turns his room inside out and still can't find it. He assumes he'd left it where he last slept; Lloyd's room. When he enters said room however, he doubts he would've found it if he tried. The beds drowned in pillows and blankets. The summons are jumping around in their own world until they notice Javier and greet him with small chirps and sounds. Javier ends up smelling Lloyd coming before the door opens. Sweet Tangerine and hints of earth that hit him when the door opens. He finds his pillow then, tucked under his masters arm as if it belonged there. Javier blanks out for a moment. "Ah Javier! Great timing. I was just looking for you." Lloyd smiles. Something often quiet in Javier's gut comes to life then and there. He doesn't end up on the chair that night. Lloyd doesn't let him. Spouts nonsense about how the chair isn't comfortable and how important sleeping positions are and only shuts up when Javier relents. He ends up in Lloyd's nest, the only barrier between him and the other being his own damned pillow. He falls asleep without the sleeping spell that night.
That's it for now? That's a lie my brains rattling with more HCs but I should stop here lmao. If people like this word vomit I'll make a part 2.
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sylwanin-was-right · 1 year
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Cameron making Spider a child character, let alone a Tarzan-esque "native on the inside" side-protagonist would make certain ppl so obsessed w him for such troubling reasons, to me 😭.
His character is the best foil to his violent military father bc he's the perfect character to project guilt and accomplishment onto. He's made too young and too helpless to blame yet just principled enough (loyal to fya Na'viyä way) to distract from his privilege as a human among the RDA. In the movie we saw how little it mattered that Spider had a specific place assimilated among the Na'vi, just that he wanted to be Na'vi and was assumingly tolerated by them by walking thru camp and being friends to Jake and Neytiri's kids. In The High Ground, Spider expressed to Neytiri an entitlement to be part of the family (and by extension Omaticaya Na'vi) despite not necessarily being invited to be Na'vi anywhere, as we dont see him go thru any rites of passage adjusted for his humanness and just introduced as someone with a fancy for Na'vi lifestyle (with the unfortunate, and also convenient case that he was the only kid born on Pandora).
Spider retains principle of being loyal to the Na'vi in very little parts of the movie, dressing, moving, and speaking like them, even emulating their skin markings with paint, and of course militantly protecting them when he could in the behinning and very end. Yet it takes this distance between scenes to make his sideplot seem relevant to anything and make his drastic straying frlm principles seem particularly justified, especially his fixation to kame his father despite his associations and actions against him and the Na'vi. As soon as his character and conflicts are introduced, he is made helpless to uphold his principles as a prisoner of war, teaching recoms intricate details of na'vi life and navigation, including speaking the language and the utility of tsaheylu, to preserve himself after a precedent scene of onscreen sacrifice (the brain interrogation torture). It seems easy for Spider to exchange his secrets for preservation and safety against the labcoats and to fufill his personal interest in knowing his father in his new form and this is strangely justified because.... Spider just had to be Quaritch's son, too? And its even easier for Spider to seem principled in his passivity by juxtaposing his simple plea to Quaritch's major damage and affect on years of slaughtering. A wooden "this is wrong" and "I'm sorry" gives certain audiences a sense of relief, a character to ease their guilt onto when a movie metaphorically calls them out too hard. "I'm not as bad as the other guy" when the guys are still in cahoots by the end.
In the comics, Spider is more on principle, but acts very entitled to be part of the Na'vi bc of bis friendship with Jake and Neytiri's kids and his appeal to the Na'vi, despite not having gone thru any rites of passage, not given any special role among the people, and not being entirely accepted. I really didnt like how Spider basically told Neytiri he was part of the family whether she liked it or not and how often Neytiri was set up to look as if she was irrational against Spider for not immediately accepting him and being a liability to their navigation. Its the sort of entitlement privileged ppl have when they think they deserve a place among another group because they oversimplify what being part of that group means in order to enjoy it more readily.
Spider is not played by the most expressive actor nor written in the comics as a likable character. He's easily distrustful to me despite his deliberate age and racial/ethnic position obscuring his role in the films and thus is not interesting to me. But I knew he'd get ppl's attention so much by having interesting commentary about other topics (which rlly should have been introduced in another film rather than jampacked into AWOW lol) obfuscated by his privilege. Its disappointing and gets me a little resentful 💀.
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iraprince · 6 months
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I adore all your art with cookie and was interested in Sapphicworld- but I’m curious (so plz don’t take this as a negative-) what exactly in your opinion sets it apart from other Queer PBTA hacks like Thirsty Sword Lesbians?
I’d just really like to hear your thoughts about it as a system and world especially given you are a indie developer yourself?
hi!! thank you!!
so, a few caveats before i start off — one, i actually haven't played many other pbta games (like for example i know Of thirsty sword lesbians + own a copy that i've poked around in but im not very familiar w it), so i honestly can't provide much in the way of comparing/contrasting it w other pbta stuff in the same vein, and my impressions of sapphicworld are pretty much just contained to the game as its own thing, not so much sapphicworld as a Type Of Game
and two, while i am a dev myself, i'm a huge novice! like, i'm proud of the stuff i put out and i love doing it, but i personally feel like my lack of experience is such that like, i don't think my opinions in this case are particularly informed by my own work as a dev or anything. all this to say im happy to answer this question, i think i just gotta tackle it from a different frame than what ur specifically asking!
BUT ANYWAY. i can still talk abt why im so excited abt sapphicworld in a way that has kind of outstripped other stuff in general, and for me it's about the world 100%. like i honestly spend close to no time thinking abt the fact that sw is even pbta to be honest. not that the mechanics + gameplay aren't important, bc they are thoughtfully crafted and well done and fun, and i'm saying that from the perspective of someone who playtested earlier versions that have now been reworked! it's just like, not what comes to mind first for me — what's exciting and fresh and irreplaceable abt the game in my mind is like. it is fully committed to immersing you in an extremely lush, strange, richly fleshed out world, one with a long history and folklore/mythology and a TON of really fun npcs who all have different subcultures and its own calendar with seasonal holidays and regional terrain with specific fleshed out dungeons/towns/etc to discover and even like, specific FOODS typical to each different region and and and and —
and maybe at first that seems kind of overwhelming, and tbh it is. when i first got into it and i was going thru the playtest document (which if im remembering right was like. ~300 pages shorter at the time than the current playtest doc) i DO remember anxiously thinking to myself "god this is a LOT and idk if i'll be able to retain enough of this to rp convincingly" etc etc. but like... it's just really compelling, and it does an incredible job of mixing humor and gravity and horniness in a perfect ratio that always comes across as intensely earnest and makes it equally easy to have a fun goofy time or a really emotional time, which i think is REALLY hard to do.
and while normally it's hard for me to get thru something that dense and long all i can really say is that i just straight up like it enough and was charmed by it enough to pick away at it until i grasped it and felt like i understood a bunch about the world, which also has a curve to it bc in structure and tone its very different from any of your... idk more Standard fantasy or sci fi worldbuilding, so it's not like u can immediately slot in ur expectations from other settings and just learn some new vocab words, it's a world that from my perspective also Functions differently than a lot of other fictional settings in a way that's a little hard to describe succinctly. (none of this is succinct to begin with but ykwim). it makes me want to gm my own campaign, really really bad, when usually i have always been absolutely Terrified of the idea of gming! idk man. it has a Flavor. it's full of Vapors. u get transported somewhere else reading it and playing it in a way i haven't experienced in a while and a lot of times after a playtest session i felt like my brain stayed behind in sapphicworld for a pretty long time.
i feel like i am sounding a little melodramatic and incoherent but like. genuinely sapphicworld is just a fictional world that i am really bone-deep charmed by and interested in and when i WAS reading thru the rulebook for those first days it did not take me long at all to find myself constantly thinking "i want to play in this world, i want to play in this world, i can't wait to play in this world," and i just think that's really special. and like — just as your curiosity abt comparing sw to tsl was not intended as a diss or a negative, what im abt to say is similarly neutral — im a person who sometimes finds it a little difficult to click with or feel excited abt a lot of the Queer Indie Stuff that i see get popular with other people, bc it just doesn't connect w my specific lesbian + trans experience; not that it feels inauthentic but that im like, oh, idk, i think these guys are just. not My Zone, ykwim. on the flip side so much of the humor and heart and transness and sex in sapphicworld is something that really resonates w me and just Clicks in a way that i have also found really special.
rounding myself off before i ramble for like five more paragraphs but just as one more morsel of something i like abt sapphicworld that is a little more concrete than me spinning around the room yelling "I JUST LIKE IT OKAY": one of the most fun parts of character creation is getting to mix and match your kind (sort of like ancestry/species, the form ur physical body takes) with a subculture. so u get things like a werewolf babe (cookie! babe being a subculture that focuses on being Like, Totally Hot), or a centaur knight, or a minotaur debaucher, or a vampire cowboy, or an organist (cthulu-y tentacle guy) scenester, or a skeleton wizard, etc etc etc etc — there are SO MANY to pick from that when i was trying to bait my friends into playing w me i couldn't find a convenient way to list them all so ppl could start thinking abt their characters. and every possible combination basically is interesting and amusing and fun and practically THROWS a great oc into your lap and i literally think i could amuse myself endlessly just Making Characters in sapphicworld and never actually playing w them.
[panting, disheveled] so tldr. i like it. uh. what sets sapphicworld apart from other ttrpgs to me is that i have fallen balls to the wall in love with the very soul of it to the point where i don't even really think about it in comparison to other games at all and it has just become an Experience to me and i suppose i cannot guarantee anyone else will fall into insane homosexual hysteria in the same way but here we are. HOPE THAT HELPS
(ALSO PSSST. idk if this is just perfect timing or if ur curiosity was specifically prompted by this but the @sapphicworldttrpg patreon DID just launch and if any of this has been intriguing u should check it out. okay mwah bye)
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youremyheaven · 1 month
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Omg I saw your moon dominance post and I have to share something 😭
I have a friend whom I went to the same school as, we still talk sometimes but not as much.
She has always been quite a charismatic person, and is a relatively small built, conventionally attractive blonde white girl. Needless to say she is considered quite “soft and feminine” - I only mention race because racism would naturally prevent her being perceived that way.
I like her, she’s very diplomatic and intelligent but MY GOD the manipulative tendencies she had growing up😭😭😭
It’s been a couple years since I was regularly in close proximity to her so I can’t remember that many examples of her lying (also because it was a such a common occurance), however I remember it getting to the point where she herself would awkwardly joke about it.
What I *do* however remember quite distinctly the way she’d occasionally have these “tantrums” after I gave her any mild criticism.
For example, one time we were all having lunch together as a group and she made a mean spirited comment on someone else who was nearby. I pointed out that is was a pretty mean thing to say, not in a particularly accusatory tone, and she quite literally started shouting at me saying “WELL THATS QUITE BIG OF YOU TO SAY BC YOU TOLD ME [insert minor joke about manipulative Snapchat fboys that therefore was nothing to do with her] AND IT REALLY UPSET ME [insert sob story about having a disabled brother] etc etc”
She also had a similar public outrage at me after I asked her if she brought her present in for the Secret Santa, and she responded by kicking me in the shins and going on a tangent about how her life is really stressful and how I only worry about “school and sleep” 💀
However the interesting part that I vaguely covered at the beginning is that she had mastered the whole sweet innocent teenage facade. She had people, primarily older men in authority, entirely wrapped around her finger. She developed this oddly close relationship relationship with one of our teachers, which never got inappropriate, but he would direct like 80% of his energy to helping her over other students (who were equally if not more needing of help). Similarly her therapist literally UNRETIRED to help her personally 😭 I can think of so many examples of authority figures literally bending over backwards to be of service to her.
(She also attracted a kind of unreal level of male attention that was way above the average)
To finally conclude:
She is a hasta sun, moon and ketu with PBP ascendant. Her birthtime isn’t exact but I feel as though PBP is more likely than UBP.
There was also an incident of her sleeping with a teacher in his 20s when she was 17 😬 obviously it’s on him, but it’s interesting to consider that she has Jupiter in the 9H in Chitra (mars) - aswell as a mercury chitra which sits in her 4 planet 8H stellium.
Sorry for this extremely lengthy ask😭 it’s more of an info dump than an ask but I hope it served as an interesting example of moon dominance (+ a little bit of mars influence) in women
bestie never apologise for spilling tea 😂i love reading what ya'll have to say, otherwise i feel like im talking to a wall. and i feel you about this moon bestie of yours, im glad you're out of that toxic friendship!!
a few years ago i had a toxic moon dominant bestie who like you said lied so much and manipulated things so much, its hard for me to even make a list of the shit she did lol, yk how a lot of poc parents will whip their kids or yell at them or something and afterwards act extra nice bc they feel guilty?? I've noticed that Moon dominant people are like that to some extent. my "friend" would say the nastiest most vile derogatory things about me TO ME and then when i responded with radio silence she'd be all 🥺🥺im so worried about you, have you eaten? have you done all the assignments?? here's mine, you can refer to it🥺🥺,, like i was always sooo confused by her but then i started seeing thru her bullshit, how she's only being nice cause she feels guilty lol,, she had a tendency to criticize other people A LOT like your friend and honestly its tiring to listen to that shit, so i think i started saying nice things in return like "oh but xyz is so sweet, she's always so thoughtful" and then she'd say some shit "its so crazy you'd say that because i felt like xyz and abc always hated you" like classic manipulation lmao, like she hates those ppl and if i say one nice thing about them, then she'll try to convince me that those people hate me so that i can be on her side in bitching about them lmfao.
Moon dominant people are soooo insecure its sad,, they feel the need to be so rude and nasty af to others to mask their own insecurities. Obviously I'm only talking about unhealthy Moon influence, im sure there are nice ppl out there as well.
u guys pls feel free to dump any gossip/tea u have in my inbox, i love reading this stuff!!
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