#((GOD these are WAY too accurate for these two!!

[shadowlord420sgf]

⋆˚꩜｡ Winner, Winner!

ᯓ★ parker bradley x reader ₊˚⊹

⌗ summary: Parker has a new game for you to play. It involves psychedelic mushrooms. word count is 2k .

⌗ warnings!: female reader, p in v, unprotected sex, dry humping, sex while high, drug use, cumming through underwear, creampie, riding, multiple orgasms

⌗ authors note: this one is for the 3 existing parker fans, love ya! its canon that he does shrooms so of course we do them together and fuck , sorry if I didn’t write feeling high accurately . this is also posted on my ao3!

Parker was… a lot, to say the least. How his voice always seemed to be ten times louder than it needed to be, or how he could ramble on about something like the history of chess for hours. Not to mention that his appearance was the actual embodiment of feeling overstimulated.

Nonetheless, you seemed to grow fond of him and his peculiar game money hair. You liked playing simple board games with him, although maybe it wasn’t the games that you liked. Maybe it was how his face lit up whenever you agreed for another round of Sandyland. Or how he smiled so brightly & cheered so obnoxiously when he won any game.

It was stupid. Infectious. Oddly endearing.

Which is why when you visited the attic one day, Parker flopped onto the carpet, dramatically waving a ziploc baggie over his head like it was a winning lottery ticket, you didn’t even blink. " You ever played this game before?” he grinned, voice booming as he plopped the bag into your lap. Inside were a handful of dried, suspiciously earthy-looking mushrooms. Oh. That explains a whole lot.

“That’s not a board game,” you said flatly, eyebrows raising.

“Nope,” he chirped, sitting down unnecessarily close beside you. Were you feeling warmer all of a sudden? “It’s better. It’s like your favorite game, Sandyland, except instead of getting to the beach, you meet the gods!”

You laughed, ignoring the way you felt your heart thump in your chest. Parker was always doing something crazy. But this— this was different. Perhaps a little risky. But so intimate, you had to admit.

You paused. “You want me to do shrooms with you?” The thought sounded even crazier out loud.

Parker looked up at you with those wild, eager eyes you loved. “You bet! I brought them out just for you!” Oh god, he’s so sweet… You really needed him. You sighed, knowing your answer was undoubtedly hell yeah, “Fuck it, let’s do this. How do we play?”

“Well I thought you’d never ask!” He jumped up. “It’s easy. Whoever makes the other person lose their mind first wins.” He said this like it was common sense.

Haha. You wondered if he knew that it seemed like he'd already lost his mind. “Okay, seems easy enough. But um..” You hoped this meant what you thought it did, “What do you mean ‘lose their mind’? How can we tell?” You felt your face heat up.

“You’ll know,” he says, smirking. Oh. “Like, when your brain turns to soup and you can’t finish a sentence. When the floor feels too soft. When breathing feels like a full-time job. Ya know, the works!” Sounds like he was describing how he felt on a regular basis. You nodded, holding out your hand for the special mushrooms. Parker beamed, “Oh, this is so exciting!” Before suddenly turning serious, “Rules, very important remember? The only rule is you can’t cheat. Obviously.” So, you two took the drugs (maybe a little too many to begin, so eager) just like that.

You couldn’t tell how much time passed before you swear you could cut the tension in the air from its thickness. “Hey.” Parker said, voice low, “You feeling kinda.. like, hot?” You slowly turned your head to answer him and nearly came right there. His face had the perfect tint of red, hair somehow messier, and you were mesmerized at the way his chest moved up and down with every heavy breath that left his kissable lips.

“Mhm. You?” You were surprised at how out of breath you sounded. Parker nodded quickly, “Yeah— yes let’s just.. take off our clothes. Nothing we haven’t seen before, right?” You smiled remembering when you made him strip while playing Sandyland.

“Yeah, please.” You muttered, feeling even hotter watching Parker pull off his shirt and more, until he was left in that god-forsaken twister underwear. Left hand green, right hand blue, you thought. Your limbs felt heavy as you struggled to remove your own garments.

Parker watched you struggle, just for a moment, before desperately pulling your pants and shirt off for you. You couldn’t help the noise that left your throat when you felt his hands on your bare skin. He stared at you, with no intention of looking away. His gaze was so different now. You both felt impossibly warm, everywhere.

“Parker,” you panted out, “What the fuck was in those mushrooms? My skin feels like it’s actually buzzing.”

Parker didn't answer right away. He was too focused on how perfect your breasts sat in your bra, how sweet you looked, squirming and out of breath by nothing. “I…I dunno but,” his face was closer to yours now, “I have to kiss you.”

You didn’t dare protest. Instead you closed the gap between you two, hands pulling on his shoulders. It was sloppy. Desperate. So hot it was dizzying. His mouth moved like he was trying to memorize your taste, your rhythm, every tiny sound you made.

You moaned into it before you could stop yourself, and it only made him hungrier. His hands were everywhere—your jaw, your neck, groping your chest and squeezing your waist tight enough to leave bruises. You hoped he did.

He whined when you pulled away, both of you gasping for air, wide eyes boring into each other. “Your mouth,” he whispered, voice wrecked . “God, your fucking mouth…”

You moved to sit on top of him, hips flush with his. Without thinking, you two were kissing again. And again. You’ve never been wetter, you fucking ached to feel his cock inside you, anywhere. You started grinding your clothed wetness on the hard tent of his boxers, yearning for some kind of friction. Parker whimpered at this but swiftly moved his hips with yours. God, he felt so good.

“I-If you keep doing that… I’m gonna come— I’ll seriously come so hard, fuck.” Parker groaned, now biting & sucking your neck until you were the prettiest shade of purple. “Hnng… Me too, can you— could you get hard again?” You asked him, desperately not wanting this to end. Parker laughed a beautiful breathless laugh, “Shit! You kidding? Of course I can, just look at you,” he panted, kissing you yet again. “So fucking hot.”

You gasp as he grinds his hips up into you somehow harder, shuddering out your name. You never would’ve thought that dry humping would feel so euphoric. Although nothing about this was dry, your parted lips were wet with his saliva, your cunt soaked in your own slick and his precum.

Every rub of your clothed core against his bulge felt blisteringly good—raw and too much and not enough all at once. His hands squeezed into your hips before sliding under your bra. Then, it hit you sharply— your orgasm rolled through you in waves, messy and overwhelming, legs trembling as you keened against him. You cried out his name, sobbing a little as you slotted your head into his neck.

Parker absolutely lost it there. He spewed out every desperate sound from his mouth and wrapped his strong arms around you tighter. And fuck , the way you looked could only be described as perfect—wrecked, glowing, flushed and needy. His hips didn’t, couldn’t stop bucking up into you, but sped up. “Hahh— fuck, Im- ah, please-” he pulled your head into his, lips crashing together as he came embarrassingly hard. So fucking warm. You both made sounds of mewling into each others’ mouth, never feeling hotter than now.

You were an absolute mess between your legs, and so was he. After panting for a bit you realize that Parker’s bulge had only gotten harder.

“Mnh— I’m totally winning by the way.” He chuckled out. How the fuck was he still thinking about that game? Anyway, you wouldn’t go down so easily. “As if! You were the one who suggested we take off our clothes, and you kissed me first!” You protested, still blushing wildly saying it aloud.

He paused, staring into your eyes before laughing overly loud as always. “That’s true! But… you were the one who came first.” Oh. Right. “Didn’t even know you could gush all over me like that! Fuck, you’re wild!!” You’re the wild one, okay.

You really wished he would stop talking and get inside you. Instead he reached for the bag of those damn mushrooms, taking some in his hands. No fucking way. “Hah—Heheh… Okay, open your mouth and say ahhh.” Parker giggled, hand firmly gripping your jaw. Fuck, you were gonna regret this but your mouth opened anyway. His eyes were so enticing that you barely noticed the drugs on your tongue before he leaned in to kiss you again.

You hardly realized that Parker began to buck his hips into you once again, too focused on how his tongue tasted so addictive. “Fuck— wait Parker, can you… um you could, be inside me. I mean if you want—” Your face burned . God, you wish he could’ve just read your mind.

Parker’s eyes grew wide and he smiled even wider. “Wowee! I thought you’d never ask…” he says, his hand crawling down to the fabric covering your wetness. His thumb hooks under the delicate cloth, pushing it to the side. You pull his waistband down just enough to unveil his length. His member springs out of his boxers, a color of pink Monopoly money at the tip.

Your soaked core makes the perfect entrance for his pulsating pawn. You felt him twitching in your hand as lined him up with your entrance, so eager to feel you. Both you and Parker gasped as you sank down on him painfully slowly. The stretch of his cock burned throughout you in the best possible way.

Parker lets out a high shaky moan,“Oh fuck— can’t believe I haven’t done this sooner! You feel so, so incredible…” You heard his voice crack.

You nodded, trying to distract yourself from how his touches left your skin hot and buzzing. “Mnh. Parker, I-I’m gonna move now—o-okay?” You whined at how hard he was gripping your hips in anticipation.

You could only moan as you lifted yourself up off of him slowly, but not all the way, before dropping back down on his cock. Parker threw his head back, mouth open as he let out a low groan.

“You—You’re so tight and… warm, shit!” Parker’s voice sounded utterly wrecked. Your head spun as his hands started to move you without even realizing, fingers digging into your hips as if his body had to fuck you back or he’d go insane. Every time your hips met, every time you bounced on his throbbing dick, every time your clit rubbed against him for a second, you both felt like you could pass out.

You felt that familiar knot of pleasure building up as Parker hit that sweet spot inside you with nearly each thrust. You knew he was close too, based on how every buck and jerk of his hips became progressively sloppy with no rhythm at all. Your bodies felt too hot, heads too light to form coherent sentences— just heavy pants and whines with every meeting of your hips.

“I’m right there—i-inside pleaseplease, need to fill you up…” Parker managed to cry out brokenly. You didn’t want anything but that right now. “Yes! Fuck— yes please, wanna… feel it,” you whine out, sounding no less broken than him.

With a final thrust of his hips, Parker spilled his cum into you with a high-pitched moan. You practically sob as your own orgasm hits you hard, spilling all over his cock. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

“I think,” you panted, “I won there.”

“Hmm… I say you cheated.” Parker argues, and you could hear the grin in his voice.

“Shut up. Also I am never going anywhere near those drugs again…” you remember, head still dizzy, “Where the fuck did you even get those?”

He smirked before pulling you onto him in a hug. “I have my ways. So, next time we’re definitely playing chess with them. Ooh, or I’ll see if Chance could lend us his dice and we’ll figure something out…” Parker kept talking of course, but you just smiled and closed your eyes.

[erosmutt]

　★　STITCHES　⨟　S. Monroe & S. Barringer

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀❝Waiting for the chance to beat you, drooling on the set to feel you, blessing you with every kiss.❞

﹙characters﹚︰ Sam "I'm Not Gay" Monroe, Scott Barringer

﹙pairing﹚︰ Sam x Scott

﹙synopsis﹚︰ Sam's little secret gets out. Scott has to put him in his place.

﹙content warnings﹚︰ gay sex, f-slur usage, takes place in 2001 so don't take it too personal, biblically accurate (twink) sam

﹙notes﹚︰ Ella (@darthrenswiftie) came up with this. Knew what I had to do. Might be a genius with that picture setup not sure though.

When it got back to him that Scott had seen the video, Sam was absolutely mortified. No way, his crush had seen it. Scott Barringer, the captain of the football team, the guy that's fucked every girl at school . . . now he knows that Sam wants to be one of those girls too.

Initially, Scott made fun of it. Laughing with his friends about the "little faggot twink freak" that's pulling his cock to the thought of getting pounded by the jock. He knows that Sam stays late for the football games, solely for his friend Josh that's also on the team. The two of them will hang out, Sam will occasionally accompany him in the locker room just for support. So, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Sam wants to get fucked? Fine. He'll show him just what he's in for.

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✮ ✮ ✮

Perfect. Josh was kind enough to help Scott set Sam up. Sam sits on the bench in the locker room, drumming his ring-clad fingers against the wood when the door opens and slams heavily, almost ominously. The scent of nearly overbearing cologne hits Sam's senses and he freezes. No. Is it . . . ? He turns around, and suddenly, he's face to face with Scott Barringer himself. Oh, god. They both remember that video. Where Sam cries the blonde's name, his pretty pink lips glistening with saliva from repeated licking and his hand sticky and slick with his release.

"Hey there, fag."

Sam's eyes widen a fraction at the insult. He swallows, brow furrowing in irritation. "I'm not gay," he says defensively, getting up and putting some distance between the two of them. Scott just eats the distance right back up, cornering the other against the lockers. Suddenly, he slams him into the red lockers, making them rattle, and making Sam yell in pain. "Ow! The fuck was that f- whatareyou- ohh," his protests fade into a moan as Scott's knee presses against the stiffy in his cargo shorts. "Oh my god, Monroe, you are a fucking little twink. Is this all 'cause of me? You hard 'cause of me?"

Against his better judgement, Sam starts to grind against Scott's knee for friction, his eyes fluttering closed, his pretty lashes resting against his rosy cheeks. "Yeah, that's right, get yourself off on me like the little whore you are. You wan' me t'fuck you in the ass, don't you? Don't you?" He taunts. Sam nods desperately, and that's all Scott needs.

In an instant, Scott has Sam bent over the bench, his ass up in the air. Fuck, he's cute. No, this isn't what he's here for. He's here to teach him a lesson, not actually get off on this. Discarding his pants but not his socks, Scott positions himself behind Sam, landing a harsh smack to his ass, watching with satisfaction and reverie as the flesh jiggles and turns a bright red. Sam moans beneath him, gripping the sides of the bench desperately, trying to brace himself, but nothing prepares him for the feeling of the tip of the blonde's cock prodding at his tiny little hole. No lube, either? God, he's fucked. Literally.

Scott spits down onto his hole and smears it around before he holds Sam's cheeks apart, fingers digging into the plush, pliant globes before forcing himself inside. Well, the tip at least. Maybe it'd be better if Sam was riding him? He pulls out and yanks Sam onto the floor to get him out of the way before parking himself on the bench. "Get the fuck up here," he orders, patting his lap. "Face away, I don't wanna see your face when we do this." As if that makes it count any less.

Hurriedly, Sam takes hold of Scott's knees before lowering himself down slowly, whimpering as the tip pushes past the tight ring of muscle for the second time tonight. This is definitely better. It hurts like a bitch, no lube, barely any spit, Sam thinks he's going to be torn in two. Once he's fully inside, Scott hooks his arms underneath Sam's knees, pulling his legs up. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He breathes against his ear, making Sam nod pathetically. "Yeah, uh huh," he moans. Scott nuzzles his neck, giving a harsh thrust upward. "Then fucking take it."

Sam's mind is fuzzy, all he can do is whimper and moan like a whore, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty locker room as Scott thrusts up into him, stretching him beyond anything he's ever felt before . . . much, much thicker than his fingers, and much, much thicker than that plug he snagged from Spencer's with the help of a fake ID.

"Ohmygod, hurts so fuckin' good!" Sam cries, his voice slurring, eyelids fluttering and eyes rolling back, lips parted in pleasure, drool threatening to spill from his open mouth. He's absolutely going dumb on Scott's cock, and it really doesn't help that the blonde is all up against that sweet spot on his neck. "So loud," he pants, thighs starting to quiver, but he's nowhere near as messy as Sam is right now. His cock weeps precum that smears onto his shirt with every rub of his bouncing cock against it. "'s so big, fuck," Sam drawls, his moans getting higher pitched.

Scott stands, pushing Sam against the set of lockers once more, pressing his face against the cold metal and starting to thrust, now that he has better access. Sam arches his back and grabs at the lockers, settling on gripping the handles, every thrust from the boy behind him making the shoddy locker doors rattle. Scott grabs a fistful of Sam's hair and yanks his head back, other hand wrapping around his throat from behind and cutting off his airflow. "There's no way you're this fuckin' tight," he grunts, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his own cheeks flushed and rosy just like Sam's.

He's enjoying it. He's supposed to be teaching this little virgin freak a lesson, but he's enjoying it!

"Pleasepleaseplease," Sam moans, one hand moving from the locker handle to his cock, pumping it in time with Scott's thrusts as best he can. "Fuck, yes, yes, yes," his hand shakes, he has to use both of them to brace himself to keep himself from collapsing as his legs quiver, threatening to give out. His stomach churns with warmth, a tight coil about to snap at any given second. "'m gonna fuckin' cum," he warns, his eyes rolling back as he lets out the most pathetic noise Scott has ever heard in his life before spurting ropes of white onto the lockers before him, his cock twitching over and over, some of the pearlescent release falling onto his boots and the floor. It's so fucking much.

Scott stills, and with his own moan, he finishes inside Sam, a rush of satisfaction washing over him, adrenaline still pumping through him. They pant heavily, breaths mingling as Scott lets go of Sam's hair and pulls out of him, watching as the boy collapses to his knees, upper body falling forward and giving the blonde a good view of his fluttering hole. "Fuck, look at you..." Scott whispers, tugging his pants back on. "Get the fuck up before someone finds you in here, freak." He gives Sam's ass one more hard smack. "And you better not tell anyone. It's my word against yours. Got it, fag?"

Sam rolls onto his side, his hole aching. "Whatever asshole... get lost." He mutters. Scott rolls his eyes, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Freak." "Dickbag." Sam shoots back, not bothering to watch as Scott leaves, the door slamming closed behind him.

♱ @102hannah ⋆ @addictedtohobi ⋆ @brooklynb8by ⋆ @darthrenswiftie ⋆ @speaknow-sw ⋆ @judasprieist ⋆ @lacebird ⋆ @schizo-toddhoward ♱ @zapernz ⋆ @jediavengers ⋆ @enchant5d ⋆ @trippyhippywitch ⋆ @valloos ⋆ @piastricentric ⋆ @gallerygourmet ⋆ @anakinsbbgirl ⋆ @ilovekmchenzie ⋆ @s1ck-skv1l ⋆ @offthethirlwall ⋆ @soleil825 ♱ @starlmbed ⋆ @slutforfinnickodair ⋆ @necromancerrrs ⋆ @theladykassia ⋆ @thesassypadawan ⋆ @cocobear18 ⋆ @anisangeldust ⋆ @fredswrite ⋆ @byunnue ⋆ @hellokittyyloverrrr ♱ @cherriies-snake ⋆ @haydenslittlegirl ⋆ @espinathena-17 ⋆ @fallout-girl219 ⋆ @xhunnybeeex ⋆ @radiantvader ⋆ @urmomsgirlfriend1 ⋆ @hayden-christensen-verse ⋆ @dreamygirli3 ⋆ @awhhayden ⋆ @ysrjune ⠀★⠀⠀─⠀���WRITTEN BY EROSMUTT 25.06.28, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR REMOVED TO/FROM THE TAGLIST.

[cheers-to-you-th]

Practice Makes Perfect

Pairing: Hoshi x reader Word Count: 3.1k Genre: Smut !MDNI!, pwp Warnings: overstimulation, dom!soonyoung, some degradation, fingering, unprotected sex Summary: all you want is for your boyfriend to fuck you into oblivion in the practice room, is that too much to ask??? or where hoshi is sweet while trying to teach you a dance but you just wanted to see the commanding performance leader in action.

@lovetaroandtaemin and @supi-wupi ty for being amazing beta readers ily

"one, two, dadu da- other foot baby"

Soonyoung gently nudges your foot with his to correct your movements, fixing the mistake as frustration gathers in your stomach and lower. It’s no secret that your boyfriend is sweet and cares for you like you're the most important thing in the world. While you do love how gentle he is with you, recently the urge to rile him up until he fucks your brains out has been occupying your brain more often than not. It started with watching a behind-the-scenes of his dance practice. Watching your undeniably hot boyfriend command his members with ease made your stomach leap, and when his voice grew increasingly lower as he focused on formations, you decided it was time to dance.

Or, more accurately, to dance poorly while your boyfriend slowly gets worked up and rails you into the next dimension on the floor of the practice room. At least, that had been the plan until Soonyoung decided to suddenly have more patience than he’s had in the last 10 years combined. Your final straw is when your phone buzzes and you see the time on the screen (ignoring Vernon's text about a random meme) to find you have been practicing for over an hour. A grumbled sigh escapes your lips, promptly cutting off Sooyoung's instructions on how to isolate your arms while moving god-knows-what-else as he softly spins you around in his arms, observing the pout on your face.

"Don't be sad baby, you'll get it eventually. I promise," Soonyoung punctuates his words with a peck on your nose. "Besides, you have the best boyfriend ever to help you out."

A mutter about ‘him not helping in the way you need him to’ accidentally slips from your thoughts before you can stop it, and earns an (unnecessarily hot) eyebrow raise from the man in front of you. You feel his hands rub slow circles on your waist, “What was that, oh-so-lovely-girlfriend of mine?”

Face flushed, you try your best to wriggle out of his grip, which turns to iron at the attempted escape. Soonyoung clicks his tongue at you, “Uh no ma’am, you aren’t walking away from this. What did you just say?” A soft smile adorns his lips as he looks at you with unbridled love.

“You know, lovely, if you want me all you have to do is ask. I don’t know how dancing came into the equation, but I’m more than happy to help you in any way you want.”

Your cheeks burn, the weight of Soonyoung’s gaze and the press of his hands anchoring you in place. His body is warm and solid against yours, and the way he’s looking at you—amused, curious, just a little bit smug—isn't helping your composure. Especially not when his thumbs start drawing lazier, lower circles at your waist, dipping closer to the hem of your shirt with each pass.

“I did ask,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper. “Just... indirectly.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Soonyoung laughs. It’s not mocking, it’s surprised, delighted, downright pleased—like your confession just made his entire month. “Ohhh,” he hums, voice thickening as he tilts his head. “So that’s what this was about. It wasn’t the dance, you’ve just been trying to rile me up?”

You open your mouth to protest—unsuccessfully, because he’s backing you up, one slow step at a time, until your spine hits the mirror and his body presses into yours, warm and solid and everywhere. It takes him a second. “You sabotaged your own dancing,” he says slowly, “to make me snap?”

Your silence is answer enough. He exhales a single, stunned laugh before his hands come up beside your head. “You really wanted to get fucked in the practice room that bad, baby?”

You can only give a pathetic whimper in response.

“Wanted to see your performance leader in action, huh?” he says, low and teasing, breath brushing your ear. “See what it’s like to be bossed around?”

“I wouldn’t call it bossed,” you manage, even as your knees threaten to give out under the weight of your need. “Just… led. Strongly. With purpose. Preferably while shirtless.”

Soonyoung’s grin turns dangerous as he leans in, lips brushing your ear as his voice dips, no longer sweet and soft, but the commanding timbre that drove you crazy in the first place. His hands slide up, bunching your shirt higher until his fingertips skim bare skin. “You should’ve said something sooner, baby. I would've made sure you couldn’t walk out of here. You’ve been all worked up this long? That’s so cute.”

You let out a frustrated whimper that makes him groan.

“God, you’re lucky I like hearing you beg.”

And just like that, he switches: Voice lower, hands firmer. That sharp precision from dance practice snapping into place, all focus and control and command. “Hands on the mirror,” he says, tone like honey-drenched sin. “Now.”

You obey instantly, palms flattening against the cool glass, heart pounding so hard you think he must hear it over the soft hum of the speakers still playing a looped instrumental track. The mirror fogs slightly under your breath as Soonyoung steps up behind you, chest pressed to your back, his hand ghosting under your shirt before slipping higher—teasing, purposeful, drawing out every shiver.

“You want me to take control,” he murmurs, fingers skating along your ribcage like he’s marking territory. “Then don’t move until I tell you to.”

Your breath catches. His voice is nothing like the teasing, affectionate Soonyoung you started practice with. This is a different man altogether—calculated, intense, voice edged with restraint that won’t hold back for long.

You nod, and he tuts softly behind you. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.” You whimper, prompting a satisfied hum from him.

His fingers trail down again, tugging the waistband of your shorts with enough pressure to make your whole body jolt. One hand stays at your hip, pinning you in place, while the other brushes between your thighs—teasing touches, slow and maddening. His mouth finds your neck, kissing softly just behind your ear before grazing teeth along your pulse point.

“You could’ve had this hours ago,” he murmurs, voice dark and silky. “But no. You wanted me to break. Wanted to be handled.”

His fingers finally press where you need them, making your hips jerk against the mirror as a strangled sound escapes your throat.

“That's what I thought,” Soonyoung says, lips curling into a smirk against your skin as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your shorts, finding no panties. “So naughty, so needy, all because I wouldn’t stop being sweet.”

His fingers slide between your slick folds, and you gasp, forehead thunking lightly against the mirror as your legs spread instinctively, your body betraying you in all the best ways. The friction is maddening—too little, too slow, too perfect. Every touch is deliberate, calculated with the same precision he uses to choreograph a stage performance, and somehow it’s infinitely more devastating.

“Look at you,” Soonyoung murmurs, slow and almost reverent. “You’re shaking, baby. I’ve barely touched you yet.”

You whimper in response, breath fogging the mirror faster now, a broken plea tangled in your throat as your hips try moving back towards him. His hand at your hip tightens—holding you still.

“Nuh-uh.” His voice is strict now, sharp enough to freeze you in place. “You don’t move until I say so.”

Your knees buckle slightly under the weight of that command, and Soonyoung chuckles darkly, the sound curling around your spine like smoke. He drags his fingers in a maddening circle, feather-light, watching the way you twitch under his touch.

“You really wanted this,” he says, like he’s confirming it to himself. “Planned the whole thing. Acted all clumsy and frustrated, knowing I wouldn’t be able to ignore you forever. God, that’s so fucking hot.”

You nod helplessly, cheek now pressed to the glass, skin burning with the need for more.  His hand slips back up, slow and sinful, just long enough to tug your shorts down in one smooth motion, exposing you to the cold air of the practice room and his hungry gaze.

He leans in again, lips brushing your temple this time. “I’m gonna ruin you,” he whispers, and you can hear the feral grin in his voice. “Right here, against the mirror. That what you wanted?”

You whimper out a breathy, “Yes, sir,” and that’s all he needs.

His hand slides back down with new purpose, and this time he doesn’t tease. His fingers move with a torturous rhythm—steady, intentional, impossibly skilled. Your body arches involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping you as pleasure floods your limbs like molten lava.

“Good girl,” he praises, voice a growl against your ear. “So responsive, so fucking desperate for me.”

You’re already unraveling, fast and helpless beneath the steady pressure of his touch. Every swipe of his fingers has you keening, your palms slipping slightly on the glass as your knees threaten to give out completely.

And Soonyoung—your sweet, patient, dangerous boyfriend—just keeps going, murmuring encouragement in your ear, the rhythm of his touch never faltering. Like he’s performing. Like he’s giving you the show you begged for.

“Don’t come yet,” he says suddenly, and your entire body tenses in protest.

“S-Soonyoung—please—”

“Not. Yet.”

You whimper, the sound caught somewhere between desperate and pleading, and Soonyoung leans in close enough for his lips to graze your ear, his breath warm and steady as his fingers slow just enough to leave you trembling.

“You can take it,” he murmurs, almost encouraging now, “I’ve got you, baby. You wanted me to lead—so let me.”

The tension coils tighter in your belly, unbearably hot and dizzying, but you force yourself to hold still, nails digging into your palms against the mirror. Soonyoung kisses the curve of your shoulder, gentler now, voice softening with praise.

“There you go,” he whispers. “So good for me.”

A beat passes—his rhythm never faltering—before he says, low and certain, “Okay. Now.”

And you fall apart.

The heat crests in a wave that breaks you open, your body shaking in his arms as he holds you through it, his hand firm on your stomach, grounding you, keeping you tethered. He doesn't pull away—just presses closer, kissing the side of your head, temple, cheek, murmuring quiet words you barely register through the high still pulsing through your limbs.

You can barely register the sound of his belt coming undone before you feel him tease your still sensitive entrance.

"Ready for more?" He asks, and you nod, breathless, your eyes still closed, the world spinning.

Soonyoung’s hand leaves your waist, and you feel his warmth leave your side as he steps back to shuck his own bottoms. The sound of fabric hitting the floor is like a gunshot in the quiet of the room, the anticipation so thick it's almost tangible. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to stand steady as his hand wraps around the back of your neck, tilting your head back so you can meet his gaze in the mirror.

"Look at yourself," he murmurs, and you do, watching as he lines up his cock with your entrance. Your entire body is flushed and desperate, glistening with sweat, your pupils blown wide. Soonyoung looks at you with a mix of awe and hunger that sends a fresh tremor through your legs.

"You're so beautiful like this," he says, and then he's pushing into you, slow and deep, watching your every reaction. The pressure is mind blowing, stretching you in a way that has you gasping. You can feel every inch of him, and the way he's looking at you in the mirror makes it impossible not to watch.

Your eyes lock on his as he starts to move, the slap of skin echoing in the room as he drives into you. He's not gentle now—not sweet, not patient. His strokes are firm, demanding, the kind that leave no doubt who’s in charge. The kind that make your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in your shoes.

"Take it," he says, his voice thick with his own need. "Take everything I give you like the dirty slut you are."

You do. You take him all in, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge again. Your hands clench fruitlessly at the mirror, trying to find purchase as your body rocks back and forth with the force of his thrusts. He's everywhere—his breath on your neck, his hand on your hip, his cock pounding inside you, his eyes burning into yours.

And when you finally come apart for the second time, it’s with his name on your lips, your nails digging into his forearms, his grip tightening to keep you from sliding down the mirror. You cling to him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you, his pace not faltering once.

“Another, you can take it.”

Soonyoung’s voice is a dark promise in your ear, a whispered challenge that sends your body spiraling. You’re already so close, so overwhelmed by his control, the way he’s fucking you like he owns you—like he’s claiming you in the most primal way possible. You nod frantically, not trusting your voice, eyes never leaving his in the reflection as he starts to pick up the pace.

Your breasts bounce with the impact, nipples tight and begging for attention. His free hand reaches around, palming one and giving it a gentle squeeze that has your knees buckling. You can feel your orgasm building again, a tight coil in your stomach that feels like it’s going to rip you in half.

“Soonyoung, please—I can’t—”

He chuckles, the sound deep and dark. “You can, and you will.”

And just like that, you’re lost again. Your body is nothing but sensation—his cock filling you, his hands teasing your clit and chest, his breath against your neck, his eyes holding you captive in the mirror. The world outside this room doesn’t exist. There’s just you and him, and the dance of his hips, the symphony of your moans.

As you come, it’s like the mirror shatters, the room spinning around you. Soonyoung’s grip tightens, holding you in place, his strokes never faltering even as he watches your face contort with pleasure.

When your tremors subside, he leans in, his teeth scraping along your neck as he whispers, "Again." His hand between your legs moves faster, more insistent, and you realize with a shock that he's not letting up.

Your eyes fly open to meet his in the reflection—met with a dark and hungry gaze, full of an intensity that you’ve never seen before. You can't help but whine, your body feeling overstimulated and so, so close.

"Fuck, yeah," he murmurs, "just like that."

You're so sensitive now, the slightest touch sends you spiraling. You're panting, trying to keep up with his pace, but it's too much, too fast. You want to tell him to slow down, that you can't handle anymore, but all that comes out is a breathy "please" that seems to spur him on.

He grins, a wicked glint in his eyes. "You're gonna come for me again," he says, and you know he's not asking. He's telling you.

You try to shake your head, but he bites down on your neck, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. His other hand snakes around to cup your face, turning it so that you can see nothing but him in the mirror. "Look at me," he commands, and you do, his eyes piercing into yours, holding you in place as surely as his cock does.

The orgasm hits you like a freight train, stealing your breath, making your vision go white. Your knees give out, but he's there, supporting you, never once breaking eye contact.

When you're left a trembling, gasping mess, Soonyoung finally lets up, his hand sliding out from between your thighs, his cock still hard and deep inside you. "Good girl," he whispers, kissing you softly. "So good."

For a moment, you just stand there, panting, trying to catch your breath. Then he pulls out, spinning you around to face him. He lifts you up, his arms under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively.

With one hand, he lifts your shirt, and the other slides into your hair, tilting your head back. His mouth crashes into yours, the kiss deep and demanding, stealing what little oxygen you had left. You can feel his heart hammering against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.

"My turn," he says against your lips, and then he's walking you over to the sound system, pressing you against it. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine, but it's quickly forgotten as Soonyoung enters you again, his movements now urgent and desperate.

You wrap your arms around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as he fucks you into oblivion. The room is nothing but the sound of your moans, the thump of music, and the slap of skin. When he finally comes, it's with a roar that echoes off the walls, his body shaking with the force of it. He buries his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged.

You hold on, boneless, as he slowly pulls out and sets you down. He takes a step back, his chest heaving, and for a moment, you just look at each other.

Then he smirks, the Soonyoung you know and love shining through the haze of lust. "I guess practice makes perfect," he says, tucking his shirt back in. "But maybe next time, you don't need to be such a brat to get my attention."

You roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips despite the exhaustion. "Maybe," you murmur, reaching for your shorts, "but where's the fun in that?"

His response is a kiss, deep and possessive, leaving no doubt in your mind who's in charge here.

You break away, gasping for air, your forehead pressed to his as his thumbs over your cheekbones, wiping away the stray tear that escaped in your climax.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice softer now, the commanding edge gone.

You nod, unable to form words, your legs still wobbly and feeling like jelly. He chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose, and then leans down to scoop you up in his arms.

"Let's go home," he says, his voice tender, "I need to take care of my baby."

[cosmowgyral]

Book of Memories: Silvio and Azel

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated but do not repost. Hope you enjoy!

video credits: @.mapleibara ♡

⊱ Chapter 4

Silvio: …That bastard wanted to come back no matter what it took.

Silvio: Do you know why?

Azel: No, he’s never told me himself.

Azel: And besides—am I even supposed to ask about that?

Silvio: Probably not.

Silvio: …But the fact you’re asking that way means you’ve got a guess, don’t ya?

Azel: Yes, well… more or less.

He looked up at the night sky and let out a soft, quiet breath.

Azel: Because I was a "slave." Wasn’t I?

The prince laughed quietly, lifting his eyes to the same enormous moon.

Silvio: I had drinks with him once, back in the day.

--flashback--

Silvio: …I could get ya back to Tanzanite.

Silvio: But if someone who’s been exiled tries to go back, wouldn’t they risk gettin’ executed?

???: If I’m caught, yeah. Even if the god tries to stop it, the High Priest will make sure I die.

Silvio: You’d still go back? It’s not like you’re even attached to your homeland.

???: …True. But there’s this adorable little brother of mine in that country. He's like an angel.

Silvio: Thought he was a god, not an angel.

???: I hate the word “god.”

Silvio: Didn’t mean to offend ya, but far as I’ve heard, Tanzanite’s god doesn’t have any nasty rumors around him.

Silvio: He oughta be treated well, right? Can’t see what you’re so worked up about.

???: Gods… are just slaves to people.

Silvio: Huh?

???: People beg the gods for salvation and selfishly wish for miracles.

???: My little brother has always listened to countless prayers… and granted them.

???: So what’s the difference between that and being a slave?

???: Even though he’s saved so many, no one ever thinks to give anything back to him.

???: Because saving people is just “what gods are supposed to do,” right?

???: They work themselves to the bone, used and discarded—how’s that any different from a slave?

Silvio: …That how it is?

???: You’ll see when you go to Tanzanite. That country still chains my sweet little brother down like a damn slave.

???: Technically, I guess he’s being threatened.

???: He’s smart. But after his two older brothers were tortured half to death… he didn’t have a choice but to obey.

Silvio: …If all that’s true, then maybe this god ain’t anything like I imagined.

???: Yeah. That’s why, even if I get killed or tortured again… I can’t let him live like a slave.

???: You’re the eldest too, right, Prince Silvio? You’d understand.

Silvio: Tch

--flashback ends--

Silvio: …Wasn’t sure what to believe, honestly. Thought maybe your brother was just talkin’ big.

Azel: But after chasing me around all day, you realized the whole "slave" thing was true.

Silvio: …Don’t make it sound like I’m some kind of stalker.

Azel: My apologies.

Silvio: So, you really think of yourself as a "slave" too, huh. Your brother didn’t want you hearing that word, ya know.

Azel: Gods and slaves aren’t so different, really. The only thing that changes is the name.

Silvio: …Like that desert rose?

Azel: Exactly.

At nearly the same moment, their eyes turned to a patch of wild grass.

The plant, called a “rose,” had taken root firmly in the wasteland.

Silvio: …Doesn’t it bother you?

Azel: Of course it does.

Azel: I used to dream of freedom too. But I’m a god.

Azel: As long as I sit on this throne, I have to keep being a source of salvation for the people.

Azel: The people of Tanzanite can’t live without their god anymore.

A cold wind swayed the wild rose in its place.

Silvio: …That’s just bullshit.

Azel: Bull…shit?

Silvio: Huh?

Azel: I’m sorry, it’s just not a word I’m familiar with. Is that a Benitoitian term?

Silvio: Hell no.

Silvio: For someone who knows everything, ya sure don’t know the useless stuff.

He downed the rest of his drink and set the cup down on the mat.

Azel looked genuinely curious, his divine eyes silently asking for an explanation.

Silvio: "Bullshit"’s what ya say when somethin’ just pisses you off—when ya can’t take it anymore.

Azel: Hmm…

Silvio: Guess it’s kinda filthy for someone holy like you to be sayin'.

Azel: But it has a nice ring to it. Bullshit.

Azel: I especially like how far it feels from anything sacred.

Silvio: Hah. Then on days like this, go ahead and shout it out.

Silvio: Like—“You damn bastards! Let me rest already!”

Azel’s star-filled eyes widened, then broke into bubbling laughter.

Azel: That’s good. Next time I feel like swearing, I’ll say bullshit.

He chuckled for a while, shoulders shaking. Then, with a more serious expression, he turned to Silvio.

Azel: Thank you, Prince Silvio.

Azel: I feel like I’ve learned something truly important… something deeply human.

Silvio: …What’re ya on about?

Azel: Because "bullshit"—that’s a word only humans are allowed to say, right?

Silvio: ……

Azel: As expected of Prince Silvio… not just a first-rate source of gold—but a truly great seafarer.

Silvio: Hey, I heard that.

Azel: I was so deeply moved, I’ve decided. Starting today, I’m your loyal servant. I’ll follow you for life.

Silvio: You think butterin’ me up like that’s gonna make me throw cash at ya—

Silvio: Hey—wait, don’t actually try to lick my boots!!

The quiet desert night swallowed their voices, still warm with laughter.

It was the first time the great seafarer and the sacred god truly opened up to one another.

It was the beginning of a bond that would last a lifetime.

[Chapter 3] [Masterlist]

[m0n0lithical]

☆ oc tag game !

Tagged by @vampwan 💖 Ahhh thank you this gave me an excuse to actually develop more for a character who doesn't have a bunch established for him yet - or at least stop waffling about some aspects of him and decide for good. Also to post someone other than asshole cat rofl.

NAME: Varrien Burns NICKNAME: Ren (which isn’t TECHNICALLY accurate, but he likes it so poo on letter order accuracy) GENDER+PRONOUNS: Trans Man, He/Him AGE: 22 SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): Simlish, Toki Sulani, Tartosiano OCCUPATION: Uni student. ☆ favorite COLOR: Pink, purple, & yellow. ENTERTAINMENT: Home decorator shows. Cooking competition shows, too – particularly baking, since he can be properly judgmental in those cases. DRINK: Plumberry nectar for alcoholic, lemonade for non-alcoholic. PAST-TIME: Baking or gymnastics if he has to be indoors, soccer or swimming if he can be outdoors. Generally, just a lot of sports or demanding physical activities. FOOD: Poke bowl (BUT if you manage to convince him to admit he loves sweets, then he’ll tell you that he makes sweet potato pie for himself constantly) ☆ have they...? PASSED UNIVERSITY: Working on it! (but not yet) HAD SEX: Definitely. HAD SEX IN PUBLIC: Yes, but only a couple times – not really his thing. GOT TATTOOS: Several! - hands/back/shoulder are the commonly visible ones, but he also has a subtle one along his top scars. GOT SCARRED: He has a few that are often visible – each arm has at least two, and one going down the right side of his torso. The ones usually covered are one that is vertical down his left thigh, as well as his top scars. HAD A BROKEN HEART: Not yet, no – he thought he did in highschool when his first crush strung him along a bit before embarrassing him in front of his class, but in hindsight, it definitely wasn’t as bad as his 14-year-old-self thought it was – and certainly not dramatic enough to constitute a broken heart. ☆ are they...? A CUDDLER: Yes – he’s very open with his affection towards people, particularly in public. As long as the target of the affection is okay with it, he will squeeze the life out of you. Funny enough, he’s more reserved in private, but still shows physical affection often – just probably in more subtle ways. EASILY JEALOUS: Not even remotely. Comes with the territory of being polyamorous – only loving one person at a time doesn’t come naturally to him, so he doesn’t expect it of anyone else, either. TRUSTWORTHY: Uhhhhh...look, just don’t sign any of his contracts. He doesn’t want to fuck you over, mind, but if he wants to keep living as he is now, some monkey’s paw punishment has to be done to whoever signs on the line. ☆ family SIBLINGS: Nada – an only (adopted) child. PARENTS: Power couple real estate mogul lesbians – they had no plans for kids whatsoever, until one of their neighbors had a dilemma of an unknown child being literally dropped on their doorstep. Them taking Varrien in was supposed to be temporary (the neighbors who found him had no room or money for another child), but he was basically a ‘foster fail’, just without any actual foster system. CHILDREN: God no, and he’d not even consider it for at least a decade, really. PETS: Two dogs (a pomeranian & a chihuahua), but his moms have them both while he’s attending university.

Tagging @igotsnothing @freezerbnuuy @southernsimmin @sadraccoon061 @herzblau & @marzipaneavocado ! I was MIA for like...4 days while my brain hyperfocused on C A T so I'm not totally sure whose been tagged but - if any of you want and excuse to do it, here it is ✨ As always no obligation/feel free to ignore the tag if you don't want to do it 💖

[tarufai]

[tres-fidelis]

who are you in this haunted house story ?

The Mother

You pour everything you have left into those you love. Desperately, frantically you try to fix what is broken, but the cracks spread faster than you can mend. If only you can hold everyone together, then things might just be okay! However, you only have two hands and all anyone seems to do is pull away. Everyone is different now, even you, and pretending not to see it isn’t making anything better. You see the signs of things going wrong, of what is but should not be, and you try to warn them. You love with every fiber of your being, but try as you might, you cannot make them understand. They don’t listen, no one ever listens.

The Eldest

Knowledge is your curse. You carry a burden heavier than anyone your age should even be able to conceptualize, let alone feel the ache and heft of. It weighs down your steps, deadens your eyes, depletes your faith. You know that the mistakes of adults are not without consequences, no matter how they pretend nothing went wrong at all. They see that you’re different now, but they don’t yet realize how much. They tell you comforting lies, not knowing that the truth is your only god now. Nothing will ever be okay again and you’re so very tired of pretending otherwise.

Tagged by: stole it from @fatedprincess Tagging: EVERYONE AND ANYONE WHO LOVES OCs!!!

[prosypepper]

cw: smut, screaming, unprotected p in v, toji being..himself. 18+ mdni!

toji fushiguro likes to make his girls scream.

usually it’s no trouble—he’s pretty experienced in the bedroom, obviously. he’s got a record of thirty-two seconds he set a while ago, as terrible as it sounds.

but you—his pretty new girlfriend—are giving him some trouble.

it’s been almost an hour. he’d done everything—oral, different positions, even that thing with his fingers that’s sure to make someone scream. yet you’re quiet, clinging onto his neck, only sounds falling from your lips are small gasps and itty bitty moans.

for your first time together, toji wanted to take things slow— but it’s not good enough. so, toji switches it up yet again.

he manhandles you to flip over, shoving a pillow under you—something he’d read a while ago and had yet to try out. his hands push your knees into your chest, keeping you open, before sliding his cock back in painfully slow.

you don’t complain or make any noise again, you just rest your hands on his big shoulders and hold on. then toji begins—sliding all the way out and shoving his length right back in.

that elicits the first loud moan you’d given him. if he didn’t know any better, toji would’ve thought he’d been doing a bad job this whole time.

and he thrusts again, slow, yet hard, punctuating each thrust with a sharp stop. you go quiet again, closing your eyes and focusing on the sensation of him—and he hits it.

“oh fuck.”

your voice comes out trembling, a little whiny, yet nothing close to a scream. toji picks up his pace, thrusts still calculated and mean. he hits your g-spot so accurately and aggressive, the sensation bubbling up inside you quickly.

toji sees it, heightened senses be damned, his eyes locking onto your expression. you’re biting your lip, squeezing your eyes shut, digging your nails into his shoulder. you’re like a balloon about to pop, pumped too full you can’t help what comes out of your mouth.

“fuck! fuck you!” you scream, eyes shooting open wide when toji penetrates your g-spot again, rudely.

“aw, that ain’t nice, baby,” toji coos, knowing you don’t mean any harm in your yelling.

you’re just overwhelmed by pleasure, he gets it—toji knows he’s good. he can feel your thighs trembling, your cunt spasming around him every time he hits that sacred spot so deep inside you.

“oh my god—ugh—shit!” curse after curse falls from your lips, only causing toji’s grin to get wider and wider. your moans aren’t pretty in any sense—each noise is ugly and visceral and raw.

toji is eating it up.

“let it out,” he rasps with a laugh, angling his hips to pound even harder into your tight walls.

your fist clenches together and you bang the side of it on toji’s hard bicep. he doesn’t stop, not even after all your exclamations and yelling, because he knows you don’t want him to.

toji doesn’t want to, either—he won’t be satisfied until you lose your voice.

[starpens]

CRASH COURSE ﾉ xia caleb x female reader ៹ explicit content, unprotected sex, virginity loss, mentions of cheating (none actually happens), pet names (pipsqueak (sorry but i have to be accurate) gege, good girl), instructional sex, blowjobs, creampie, idk what this is i wrote it in 5 seconds i just needed an excuse to write caleb, not proofread :( ˓˓ WORD COUNT ᨀ 4.9k !

asking the boy you’ve known nearly your entire life to teach you how to have sex isn’t weird, right...? right?

caleb has taught you a lot of things over the years.

he taught you how to drive a car in the shopping mall’s parking lot, how to cheat at card games, how to avoid burning the house down by letting him cook for you instead, how to sneak underneath the turnstiles on the subway to avoid fees.

he’s reliable and sturdy and a little reckless, but also patient and nonjudgmental— creating the idea in your idea that he’s kind of all-knowing, that whenever you don’t know something caleb does, that whenever you need help, you turn to no one else but him. which is precisely why you’re standing outside the door of his bedroom right now, hand lifted to knock on it.

because surely, asking caleb to teach you how to give a blowjob falls somewhere underneath that category too, right?

it’s one of those rare moments when the two of you are off work at the same time. caleb, on annual leave for the next two weeks and you, taking out a handful of unused vacation days to spend time with your favorite person in the world. it’s like old times again, when you can simply walk down the hall and hear his laugh drifting from underneath the door as he plays some stupid video game with college buddies.

thinking of the old days is exactly why you’re hesitating at the door. there’s too much shared history between the two of you, too much to lose if this goes badly, if you’ve been reading him wrong all along and he doesn’t want the same thing. there’s no way you can march in there and ask the boy you were raised with teach you how to—

“door’s open, pipsqueak,” caleb calls, somehow knowing you’re there because of course he does. you used to complain that he must’ve secretly implanted a tracker in your arm because he always knows your whereabouts, which made games like hide and seek with him impossible.

knowing it’s too late to play it off, you walk inside his room, greeted by his devastatingly gorgeous grin. “hey, you. lemme guess— the fridge is empty? no? lightbulb in your room need changing again? huh… or did you just miss me?”

“uh,” you mumble, shifting your toes in the soft carpet of the rug in the middle of his room. “not exactly. i was just wondering if you had time to talk and— … you’re not wearing a shirt.”

you realize how dumb you sound as you point it out, it’s just that your brain short-circuits, turning into a syrupy mess at the sight of caleb without a shirt on, his dog tags resting against bare skin. you’ve seen him like this before, of course— but not since he up and left, gallivanting off into the world to become a hotshot military pilot.

he’s always been nice to look at when you think he isn’t paying attention, but god he’s pretty. your eyes blink almost in disbelief as you take in his broad, muscular form that did not exist while he was a cadet in basic training. your gaze can’t help but snag on the ripple of his abs, or the thatch of brown hair trailing from his navel to disappear beneath his gray sweats. he swivels in his stupid gaming chair, smiling at you with his stupid face—

“uh, yeah?” caleb laughs, forehead creasing in confusion like you shouldn’t be surprised and really, you shouldn’t. caleb is like a furnace, blood running hot even in the middle of winter. “gran’s got the heat turned up to max again. it’s like she wants to kill me.”

“yeah, right,” you shake your head, laughing skittishly. “sorry. i’ve got a fan you can borrow, if you want.”

“thanks,” he says, magenta eyes dragging over your form suspiciously, taking in the way you’re standing in the middle of his room fidgeting like a leaf in the wind, hands white-knuckling the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, knees knocking together all nervous and cute. he frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to give you his full attention in that heart-stuttering way he often does.

“what’s with you? not that i’m not glad to see you, but… did something happen? did someone do something to you?”

“no, no— nothing like that,” you hurry to reassure, voice cracking on the last word as your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, trying to find the words to say what you need to without crashing and burning. swallowing around a lump in your throat, you glance at the paused screen of caleb’s game before blurting out—

“can you teach me how to give a blowjob?”

caleb immediately chokes.

a lesson on what not to do.

the overclocked fans on caleb’s gaming rig whirs in a soft hum, the neon lights in his room flickering crimson streaks over his handsome face in the dark. he wonders if it’s post traumatic stress or prolonged exposure to cosmic radiation in the sky forcing him to hallucinate. obviously, he’s got too many marbles in one jar and not enough in the other because there is no way he’s heard you correctly.

slowly, he removes his headset. “come again?”

“i’m awful at it, ge,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. in fact, you don’t know if you’re awful at it or not because you’ve never tried. you’ve been too busy waiting on the man in front of you to stop torturing you both, but caleb doesn’t need to know that. “you see, i’m dating this guy, right? and we’ve been hitting it off well. i can tell he wants to take it to the next level, but i’ve never… and you— you’re good at everything, so i just thought…”

“thought i would give you lessons,” he finishes for you, his voice deepening to a rougher edge that makes you shiver. “so you can suck your boyfriend better. do i have it right?”

“y-yeah…”

“since when do you even have a boyfriend? you didn’t tell me anything,” he says, doing nothing to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“uh, we’ve… been seeing each other for a couple of weeks?” you fumble, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “i didn’t want to say anything yet. in case it didn’t work out.”

“so you want to learn how to suck dick for a guy you’ve known for a couple of weeks?” he counters, a muscle in his jaw twitching. he’s got no right to feel jealousy, not when he’s wasted so much time attempting to be one thing in your life when you clearly wanted something else. he’s got no right, but the thought of you on your knees for someone else, someone that isn’t him, makes his blood boil enough that he already knows what his answer will be.

however, you’re already backing up towards the door, about to make a quick retreat. your plan was horrible, shame burning your skin like a brand. “what am i saying? oh my god, you’re right it’s stupid and wrong and gross. can we please just forget i even came in here—”

he lets you ramble for an excruciatingly long time, then he pushes out of his gaming chair and grins down at you like you just asked him to make a quick run to the convenience store. he stretches his arms above his head. “let’s do it.”

“w-what?”

you didn’t expect to get this far, honestly. you expected caleb to laugh at you, ruffle your hair, and call you ridiculous. but instead, he’s already striding to his door, thumb flicking the lock with a decisive click. when he turns, his expression makes your breath hitch— those unusual purple eyes molten, staring straight through you.

“first thing’s first, we need to lay down some ground rules, soldier,” caleb tells you playfully, stepping closer until your breasts brush against his midsection. his hand lifts, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “if you need to back out at any moment, you say so. no guy’s pleasure is worth your discomfort. and if i hear his name, whatever it is…” he pauses, eyes narrowing. “this stops. understood?”

you nod eagerly, fighting your smile as his scent envelopes you. he smells like spearmint gum, your shampoo that he’s been stealing since the two of you have been back at the house, and a hint of sweat from the stifling air in the room.

“use your words, pipsqueak.”

“y-yeah, i get it.”

his smirk is all teeth. “good girl.”

caleb guides you over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. his big hands reach for you, circling your hips and pulling you towards him until you’re standing in between his spread thighs.

“alright, my little student,” he jokes. “you wanna get him all riled up before the main event so start with something small like… a kiss,” he murmurs, eyes lifting to glance at your mouth as his finger traces the hinge of your jaw. “you do know how to kiss, don’t you?”

“of course i know how to kiss,” you grumble.

caleb nods and then curls his hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you down to his level. you lean with the pressure, slotting your hands in the junction between his neck and shoulder, sliding them up until you cup the underside of his jaw. then, you’re kissing him— kissing caleb, the boy who used to patch up your scraped knees with cute band-aids, who let you crawl into his bed after nightmares, who pretends he hasn’t thought about kissing you, about making you his, for years.

the kiss is messy, desperate and hungry, decades of pent up feelings behind it. a string of saliva keeps your mouths linked together whenever you pull back for air and when caleb’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you whimper and part your lips to let him in, body melting against his front until your weight’s toppling him back onto his elbows, hitching your leg over his waist to crawl on top of him.

his grip on your waist tightens, gently pushing you to stand once more. “this is feeling less like a lesson, and more like you just wanting to do this with me,” he teases, making heat flare across your cheeks.

caleb guides your hand to the waistband of his sweatpants, the heat radiating through the fabric searing your palm. breath hitching, you begin to sink to the floor in front of him but his hand shoots out to stop your descent with a breathy laugh. “no no no, c’mere. you’re gonna hurt your knees down there.”

backing up, he moves until he’s lounging against the headboard, impossibly long legs stretched out on either side of your sweet figure.

“still wanna do this?” he asks, lifting a brow. when you nod, he continues to speak, voice gravelly, “take it out then.”

your fingers fumble with the drawstring a bit, struggling to undo the military knot caleb’s tied there, but you manage eventually. peeling back the waistband of his sweatpants to free his cock.

you should’ve known it would be just as pretty as the rest of him— it’s the biggest one (the only one) you’ve seen in person. he’s thicker than he is long, flushed dusky pink with veins that make your cunt clench with the desperate need to feel them dragging along your inner walls. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching you reach for it, nearly sobbing when your hand wraps around him.

“fuck—!” his hips jerk and stutter in shock, hand shoving yours away with a quickness. you frown and bite your lip, retracting your grip as if you’ve been burned.

“oh no,” you rush out, moving back to sit on top of your hands like a scolded kindergartener. “did i do something bad? did i hurt you, cal?”

caleb’s chest heaves, breath punching out of his lungs rapidly, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to slow the speed of his heart down. he’s dreamt about you touching him like this for ages, and the image of your dainty hand nervously wrapping around his cock will be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. you crawl back towards him slowly, seriously worried. “caleb?”

“i’m fine, pip,” he sucks in another breath, then opens his eyes to look at you. “didn’t mean to scare you. you didn’t do anything bad, you just surprised me. go ahead, touch me again.”

“if you’re sure,” you mumble, then hesitantly circle your fingers around caleb’s shaft again. he’s ready for it this time, hot against your palm when you give him an experimental squeeze, making caleb hiss through clenched teeth. “how’s that?”

“a bit tighter,” he instructs, palm closing over yours to adjust your grip. you squeeze him tight, and the hitch of his breath makes you squirm, stickiness gathering between your thighs at the sound. “don’t just squeeze, guys like it when you stroke. base to tip— no, don’t yank it like a fucking joystick, pip. god.”

his protest makes you burst out in giggles before caleb is shushing you with a severe look, his purple eyes narrowed. sucking your plump lower lip in between your teeth to keep from smiling, you nod at him with an exaggeratedly focused look.

“wet your palm,” he tells you, rolling his eyes at your wrinkled nose. “getting a handjob from a dry hand hurts, it’s like sandpaper.”

“are you saying i have dry hands, caleb? i moisturize daily, unlike you,” you whine out, but you listen to him anyway— you’re a good student, after all, and you don’t want to do anything that’ll make caleb want to stop. you lick your palm a few times, eyes on caleb the entire time.

the next time you touch him is with a spit-slicked grip, dragging your hand up and down his cock in an inexperienced, sloppy rub that should feel uncomfortable, but caleb eats it up— hips jerking involuntarily, pearls of watery precum already beginning to leak from the slit of his cock. your gaze is transfixed on it, a little greedy too, watching it stain your knuckles with each stroke.

it’s that same greediness that makes you lean down and brush your lips against the head of his cock, cherry tongue lolling out to tentatively taste the salt-bitter precum beading there. caleb’s hips immediately kick upward in a desperate twitch, but he forces them still, knuckles ashen where they reach down to grip the sheets.

“easy,” he rasps, voice fraying at the edges. his thumb strokes your cheek briefly. “just the tip first, okay? don’t go trying to swallow me down or anything.”

you do what he’s taught you so far; flatten your tongue, swirl it around the head— like that, fuck— press it hard against the thick, sensitive vein running along caleb’s underside, then repeat. every time, you’re rewarded with caleb brushing your hair back, murmuring soft praises, or your personal favorite— his deep, almost nasal groan, the hard planes of his abdomen flexing underneath the heady heat of your tongue.

it’s intoxicating, watching him fall apart like this— exactly what you wanted when you walked into his room. you want to pass his class with honors, please him even more, so you drop your mouth open a little more and suck him in deeper.

too deep.

the thick ridge of his head nudges against your uvula, tears springing to your eyes almost immediately. little startled chokes cough from your throat as you pull off caleb’s cock, bands of saliva stringing from his tip to your mouth in a way that should be gross, but you don’t care one bit, too busy trying to catch your breath.

“shh, shh— breathe,” caleb soothes, eyes darkening with something perilously close to reverence and pride. “through your nose, slowly. you can’t force it, that’s why you keep choking. when you’re ready, try again.”

you let caleb thumb away your tears like he’s done countless times before and when you’re ready, when you’ve had enough air to breathe, you let him guide you back onto his damp cock. eager, swollen lips bringing him in against your cheeks in a hot, branding suction that twists his insides up.

he’s supposed to be teaching you, showing you the ropes so you can please your stupid boyfriend, but you barely even need it— god, you’re so good at this without even trying. how can he focus on teaching when he’s got all of his focus pointed towards trying not to shoot his load down the back of your throat like some inconsiderate asshole?

he can barely look down at you because every time he does, your teary eyes glance up at him through thick lashes with an expression that begs for praise. he knows if you didn’t have a mouth stuffed full of his cock, you’d be asking him am i doing it right, ge?

his thighs tremble, eyes lidded as you finally find a steady pace— mouth bobbing up and down, spit bubbling at the base of his cock where you’re starting to make a mess on him.

and when your hands dip down into his sweatpants, cupping his balls in your soft hand, caleb’s vision whites out, his climax rushing to the front at a rapid pace. before he can cum, though, he takes two fingers and pushes at your forehead, hauling you off his cock with a wet slurp. his chest heaves, dripping beads of sweat that glow in the haze of the neon lighting in his room.

he looks wrecked, and you fight your triumphant smile, schooling it into something unsure and pliant, batting your eyelashes. “did i… did i do it wrong?”

“fuck, no,” his chuckle is hoarse and ruined, calloused thumbs swiping spit from your chin as he gazes up at you meaningfully with those hooded eyes. “just don’t wanna cum down your throat.”

“o-oh.”

the implication makes arousal bubble low in your belly, thighs squeezing together in need. caleb tracks the movement, nostrils flaring as he grins knowingly. “yeah, you don’t want that either, do you, pipsqueak?”

for a while, the two of you just stare at each other in disbelief. you don’t know how to tell caleb that you’d take him in any form he’s offering himself in, pining after him long enough that it’s painful. nothing you ever did got his attention, not in the way you truly wanted. he’s protective and possessive in all the right ways, but he’d never make the first move.

he’ll never come out and admit that he wants to spread you out on his bed and fuck you dumb, mark you as his so nobody else can have you. it took you coming to him to even get this far, so you might as well take matters into your own hands once more.

“teach me the rest, ge?”

the rest.

caleb releases a pained groan at your words and you think he’s going to refuse you, but then he’s flipping your positions, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. he makes quick work of his sweatpants, shoving them down the rest of the way. then, he wrestles your panties off your hips and tosses them somewhere across the room.

“look at you,” he whispers, pushing your shirt up— his cock leaking a bead of precum at the sight of your pretty tits. he reaches forward, toying with your puffy nipples, grinning at the sound of your soft whimper.

“c-caleb.”

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy, you get that?” the confession comes out sounding suspiciously like a whine. he gazes down at you like you’re water and he’s a man lost deep in the desert, dying of thirst. “you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. look at these cute tits, just begging for me to touch them. and—”

his big hands sink into the fleshy part of your upper thighs, opening them to get his first exclusive look at your pussy. his thumb parts your folds, spreading one side apart to watch the way your entrance twitches. caleb dips one finger into your cunt and could fucking cry at how warm and tight you feel. “fuck, you’re so wet. is this all ’cause of me?”

“d-don’t look at it so shamelessly, you pervert,” you scold him, squirming back and forth in his hold as you try to snap your thighs shut. “stop teasing me or i’ll hit you. this is embarrassing!”

“why not?” he tilts his head, giving you that boyish grin that makes your heart stop. “after i’m done with you, it’ll be mine anyway. my pretty pussy. my girl.”

you huff and drive your fist into his shoulder before folding your arms over your breasts, lower lip stuck out in an unhappy pout. caleb winces, though mirth still shines amongst the nebulas in his eyes. he leans down to kiss your pout away, chuckling in amusement. “okay, okay, don’t hurt me. i’ll give you what you want.”

and then, he’s wrapping a hand around the base of himself, kissing your clit with the leaking tip of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. he coats himself in your wetness before he finally notches against your entrance and slowly pushes.

the pressure makes air stutter out of your chest, blunt and unyielding. he immediately notices your struggle and drops forward on his elbows, caging you safely in his embrace. he kisses the corners of your eyelids, licking away stray tears.

“i hate hurting you like this,” he whispers in your ear, hips drawing back and crawling forward again. you gasp, eyes falling shut, and he shushes you once more. slides a hand down to play with your clit to distract you, which only makes you clench up around him. his jaw is clenched tight enough to shatter the bone, hand fisted in the sheets next to your head. “shh— relax and let me in. it’ll feel good in a second.”

“i-i don’t know if i can,” you say, trying to force your body to accept him, but when he sinks in those first few inches, you whimper and dig your nails into his biceps. “y-you’re so big, gege.”

“f-fuck, don’t—” caleb grunts and his fingers grip the soft sides of your belly, holding your body to his like a lifeline. “don’t call me that right now. i might cum. i’m gonna put the rest in, okay? be a good girl for me and take it. i-i can’t wait any longer.”

he draws out and presses forward all the way in, burying himself to the hilt inside your sweet pussy. his gaze drops to where you’re split obscenely around him, cunt fluttering in protest at the stretch and a ragged groan tears from his throat. it takes every ounce of willpower the military beat into him not to cream himself right then and there.

“c-caleb!”

you whine as caleb retreats slightly, only to surge back in, fucking a little deeper this time. the weight of his cock stretching you out borders on cruel, but you would die before you ask him to stop, your walls squeezing him in a vice grip. it takes a few trials and errors (“keep your hips down, pipsqueak” and “i don't know, maybe a little to the l— fuck, right there oh my god”) but eventually, caleb builds up a good rhythm, the cool metal of his dog tags pooling in the valley of your breasts as he fucks you with deep, steady strokes; bottoming out each time with a guttural groan.

“fuck— stop clenching so much i’m gonna lose my mind,” his breath scalds your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as he fucks a little faster. “so fucking good. that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good. taking every inch of me like this.”

he’s right, it is so fucking good— no, it’s better. your nails scrape against caleb’s back. shivering at the hot pleasure singeing your nerve endings each time he fucks into you. it doesn’t take long for pressure to gather in your lower belly, a band waiting to snap.

you can’t help but wriggle a hand between the two of your bodies and circle a trembling middle finger around your swollen clit. “nngh, you feel so fucking good, cal.”

“a-are you- god, that’s so hot,” he grunts, glancing down at the way you’re toying with your clit and it turns him on so much he’s speeding up, cock pistoning in and out of you, his thrusts deepening until he’s nearly kissing your cervix, he’s in so deep, your thighs slamming against his hips as you try to close your legs when the head of his cock brushes right up against your sweet spot, creating starbursts behind your eyelids.

“oh god, cal— i-i can’t!”

caleb’s grin is feral, grinding deep to press into that swollen spot inside you relentlessly. “knew i’d find it,” then his fingers joining yours and it’s so much better than your own, two digits rubbing quick circles into your sensitive clit. you’re a babbling mess at this point, the pleasure too much to keep up with. “can you cum for me? can you let me feel it? please? i’ll never ask you for another thing if you give me one right here, right now.”

what are you supposed to do, deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried, not with the heat in your belly full to bursting, needing an escape.

“’m gonna c-cum for you, ge, just for you,” you sob.

caleb has seen many versions of you over the years— grumpy and pillow-marked in the morning with syrup stains on your shirt at the breakfast table, covered in sand and sun-kissed at the beach, screaming at him to do something about the jellyfish sting on your leg, in sleek black dresses at the military balls you attended as his plus one that made all his comrades stop and stare. but you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now. his dog tags between your breasts, your creamy pussy fluttering around his cock, and your pretty face twisted in pleasure as you’re about to cum for him.

he hopes that when he dies, he’ll go out with this image in his brain.

those big doe eyes of yours roll back into your head, hands frantically pushing at his abdomen as if he’s trying to escape the overwhelming friction of his cock. you cum hard, thighs trembling, vision winking out. wet droplets of tears stream down your cheeks as white heat washes over your body, the pleasure bleeding through your limbs like wildfire.

seeing you like this, what is caleb supposed to do? not follow you? he’s been holding his own orgasm back since you barged into his room in one of his shirts, begging to be taught how to suck a cock. there’s no way he can last through seeing— through feeling— you cum around him. his rhythm fractures almost immediately and he knows he’s on thin ice, fraying at the edges.

“gonna cum,” he grits out, voice mangled. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

you don’t waste a second, babbling out the answer desperately, “i-inside, ge, cum inside me. give it to me please i want it so bad i’ll do anything!”

that’s all it takes.

one more sloppy thrust and he cums right after you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you still. he breathes choppy, ruined moans into your neck as he pumps his release deep inside your cunt before he collapses against you, damp chest heaving against yours, giving a few more weak thrusts of his hips as his climax ebbs.

you don’t know how long the two of you lay there, struggling to catch your breaths. you’re satisfied and pliant as putty underneath caleb, unable to move from his heavy embrace. he’s a wall of solid muscle, one that is pressing you into the mattress. “caleb, you’re heavy.”

“gimme a minute here, pipsqueak,” caleb chuckles breathlessly against your sweaty skin, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. “i just had the best sex of my life and can’t catch my breath.”

you begin to smile in pride, but then your eyes narrow as his words register through the fucked out haze clouding your brain. “wait, you were having sex before this?” you ask, jealousy bubbling up in your chest. “was it that one sergeant? the one who kept giving you lovey dovey eyes at the DAA gala?”

“mmm, nope,” he answers almost immediately, kissing your lips quickly to placate you, making your heart swell big and bright for the boy on top of you. “chill. saved myself all this time for you.”

your heart begins racing stupidly fast at that. “sap,” you tease, before an idea pops in your head and you reach for your phone tossed haphazardly on caleb’s bedside table.

caleb’s grip on you tightens as he notices you reach for it, a dark cloud shuttering his loving expression. “what are you doing?” he demands, the venom in his tone startling you a bit. “texting him already? that eager to try out what i just taught you?”

you frown in confusion until you remember the excuse you used upon coming into caleb’s room. wow, the boy you’re in love with is an idiot. giggling, you lean up and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before opening the camera on your phone and snapping a quick selfie of the two of you.

“no, you big dummy, i’m taking a pic of us losing our virginities together so i can add it to our photo album,” you explain simply, grinning. “and there was never any boyfriend, i made him up.”

[miajooz]

i believe in my heart that ellie simply cannot be quiet during sex.

ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY. I got you babe! Small blurb for this because im plotting so many things. Thanks so much for this, too!

minors + men DNI!! ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 1.2k

If there was one thing Ellie Williams loved, it was tribbing.

That woman could spend an eternity in that position. The feeling of your warm skin against hers, your wet cunts feeding off the pleasure you provided each other, the desperate rutting of hips—all of it. There was something so intimate about the ritual, an intimacy a strap couldn’t accomplish. An intimacy that consisted of such deep rooted love and dedication—the locked eyes, the parted lips, the closeness. The kind of closeness that felt so different, felt so wrapped in its own warmth that it couldn’t even compare to anything else.

Sure, toys and straps were great—but what Ellie liked most was to be close. She loved how your bodies seemed to perfectly mold together, how every grind of her hips brought you a similar feeling, how the warmth of your body pulled her in and coaxed her to continue. It was addicting, for sure. She couldn’t get enough of it.

How could she when your cunts felt so perfect smooshed together?

You and Ellie were in her bed, the room was hotter than usual—or maybe it was just the heat between the two of you. You lost count of how many times you came, how many times you cried out and smashed your sopping pussy against hers and watched her fall apart.

Yet, you were at it again. “Fuckkk, baby. Just like that. Feels so good.” she moaned, raspy but uncontrolled.

You laid on her bed, legs spread and tangled with hers. Ellie was practically straddling you, her body more tilted to the right as she rutted her needy cunt against yours. She held onto your legs tightly, using them to help her move against you in a speed that had you both seeing stars. You thrusted your hips up against her, both of you groaning at the same time.

Ellie looked down at you, the sight of your parted lips and the baby hairs sticking to your forehead making her eyes soften in a way. You looked so pretty like that, the sight of your legs tangled with hers looked so right. The feeling of your cunts rubbing against each other frantically felt so natural, like a kiss that was waiting to happen. A contact you didn’t know you craved every night until you had it.

“Such a pretty girl, my pretty baby.” she praised, rubbing her clit against yours harder than intended to. The sound she let out was pathetic—a sound you’d only hear from her mouth during sex. When you two fucked, Ellie was extremely loud. She just couldn’t keep it in, you made her feel so good, the smallest things made her react.

So much for a monotone, sexy, girlfriend. No, she was all of those—just acted like a bitch in heat in bed.

You panted, weakly placing your hand on top of hers—the one that was holding your leg. Her fingers dug into your flesh, crescent shaped indents forming at the base of her short nails—but you didn’t even notice. How could you when your girlfriend’s pussy being pressed against yours. You both made eye contact, your eyes struggling to not travel north and hers unable to look away. You thrusted your hips up, making her gasp and let out a breathy moan that made your cunt pulse.

“God, Ellie. You feel so good..” you managed to pant out, voice a bit worn from crying her name all night. You continued rutting your hips against each other, sopping pussies sliding all over each other in a desperate way. Needy wasn’t even an accurate enough word. Your clits bumped at the perfect angle, lips kissing each other in the wettest kiss you had ever experienced. Probably because it wasn’t an oral kiss.

Ellie panted, her movements growing almost animalistic. She couldn’t stop, the stimulation was too heavenly. Your cunt felt so wet and perfect against hers, like it belonged there. The bed was starting to shake a bit from the force, springs crying and creaking in protest. Your tits bounced with every little thrust against you, thighs shaking against hers. Ellie was still wearing some kind of band-tee, she was too desperate to take it off earlier. Panties first of course!

“Yeah? Feeling good? Let me hear it, pretty.” she whispered, her voice practically losing all raspiness. It was all breathy, more needy and whiney. Ellie hung her head a bit, trying to hide the way her eyes fluttered and rolled back.

You just nodded—or tried to. Your head bobbled in place, hips finding a decent rhythm with hers. It was hard to do when she was fucking her pussy against yours with an intensity that made you feel limp.

God bless her stamina, because this was the most mouth watering experience of your life. She looked so pretty above you, sweat rolled down her forehead and forced small hairs to stick to her head and the back of her neck. The way she’d bite her lip to stay quiet but fail miserably when she got the perfect angle was so unfairly appealing.

“S-so fucking good Els, need you so bad.” you whined, feeling the same knot in your stomach you felt many times that night. But it felt stronger, each one did. They built off each other it seemed. Your eyes fluttered shut, allowing you to just feel.

Ellie moaned at your words, a similar tightening occurring in her abdomen. “You have me baby..a-all yours. Give it to me again..” she murmured, her voice pitching into whines at the end of her sentence. She kept her pace, unable to handle much more. Her breathing got even heavier if possible, head lifting for just a moment. “Cum for me..fuckin’ soak me even more.”

“I’m gonna cum..Ellie, Ellie!” you cried, head falling back against the pillows and your back arching almost painfully. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking tidal wave—a weak string and whine of her name fell from your lips like a chant, making her moan loudly in response. Your hole clamped around nothing, just squeezed juices out for her. You could feel your own wetness being rubbed all over your tired pussy, making it easier for her to go faster.

When your back arched, your overstimulated cunt pressed against hers in a way that was almost painful. But it was enough for Ellie. “Oh, baby..s-shit, shit, shit!..” she whined, hips rutting desperately against yours as she came. The cry she let out echoed, the neighbors probably hated you guys from how many times she moaned like that. It sounded like something from a porno, something you wouldn’t expect to hear on a Sunday night. Her back arched slightly, head tilted back until her cute nose was pointed towards the ceiling fan—the whole ordeal.

You both panted, pussies still pressed against each other in a tight bond. The feeling was so warm, you didn’t want to let it go even if your nerves were screaming for a break.

Ellie managed to peel herself away for a brief moment, just to change the position. Your legs were spread in a humiliating way, and she straddled you again. When your poor pussies made contact again, you both whined.

“Give me another one baby. Please, I just need to feel you one more time.”

tags!! <333 @valeisaslut @eriiwaiii2 @hyperbabes @usuck @haithone @yunaversalluv @smaugayra @andiemiaswife

IM SO SORRYYY this is short. I’ll incorporate more loud Ellie in future fics, promise!

[momo-yandere-writings]

I decided to treat you all to a terrifying piece. Now this man will be accurate to his time period and terrifying!

Also, for @coolgirl32 since I haven’t fulfilled their request yet! So I combined those aspects with this lovely man. It’s not too detailed since I’m still trying to get out of my slump.

Yandere Head Canons: Lock and Key

Yandere 1950’s Husband x Fem Reader

TW: Yandere themes, obsession, MISOGYNY (microdose), BEING HELD AGAINST YOUR WILL (it isn’t obvious), isolation, HORROR, murder (mention), extreme jealousy, possessiveness, DO NOT ROMANTICIZE THESE BEHAVIORS OR THEMES, and OBSESSION

Robert Jones

Robert was your husband, the only man you’ve ever dated. He was a lawyer at his own law firm. Cold and calculated to others, but he had a soft spot for you. The ideal husband who was only loving towards you… almost too loving.

“Darling, I’m home!” He would always greet you with a hug and a kiss before he’d enjoy the dinner you’d make him.

Robert always sung your praises at how well you kept your home. The instant you washed the dishes, he’d hug you from behind to sniff your hair like a dog. He never seemed to get enough of you… he’s been this way since the two of you were in school.

His hands often grabbed at your hips and thighs. You swore you felt him shake as if he was holding himself back from devouring you like a rabid animal.

Robert was clingy behind closed doors and heavens he was such a possessive man… he had a long list of rules of her interactions with others. Especially other men.

“You’re my wife, dear. I can’t have another man seeing how beautiful you are.” Robert would whisper from the crook of your neck. “I’d have to kill them.”

Hell, he didn’t want you to even speak to the milkman nor the mailman. The reason being that you were too pretty and he wasn’t there to protect you. Even the other housewives weren’t allowed over.

But his consistent isolation made it so lonely… so you began to ask if you could have a job just like a few of the other women had.

Every time you asked if you could get a job, he’d always scoff. He was indeed a typical man of this time period.

“Women can’t work. They’re meant to stay at home and take care of the house.” Robert would always tell you with a click of his tongue. “Do I not give you a cushy enough life?”

You’d always reassure him and he’d smile at your submission.

“We should try for a baby soon… I hate leaving you alone in this house all the time.” He sighed. “Work has been so busy… but you’ll look so pretty all swollen. Don’t you think so, darling?”

Now you were never lacking in the bathroom. Robert was all you knew after all… and he was well endowed. Yet a small part of you wondered if other women’s husbands were constantly on them all the time. That their husbands would obsessively whisper how much they belonged to them…

Yet Robert never allowed you the time to think of it too often before he’d pull you into another round. He couldn’t stand it when your mind wandered from him. He should be all you think about because he was your husband after all.

If only you knew the lengths he had went to in order to be your husband. It was hard to hide all those bodies back in your school days. He was just lucky the police never traced the missing kids back to him.

Gods, Robert wouldn’t know what to do if you hadn’t chosen him. If you hadn’t chosen him to be your perfect provider and future father of your children. He was sure he would have been in a psych ward. Yet you chose him, like the kind person you were… so perfect and obedient to him. He loved you so much!

“I love you, darling.” Robert smiled as he held you close. His fingers traced shapes down your back as he sighed happily.

He would always keep you close under lock and key.

[meadowscarlet]

BARCELONA’S SWEETHEART | OP81

✩ — summary: oscar develops a teensy-tiny… okay, maybe a huge (enormous, actually), crush on the younger sister of football barcelona’s talented midfielder, pedri.

✩ — oscar piastri x fem!reader

✩ — author’s note: mixed up timelines for the plot & i don’t speak spanish so i used google translate sorry in advance if it’s not accurate LMFAO

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, f1, lamineyamal, jkeey4 and 809,556 more

fcbarcelona A special visit from the grid to the pitch. Welcome, Oscar Piastri! 💙❤️🏁

View all 14,556 comments

random somebody pinch me

random OSCAR????? WATCHING A BARÇA GAME?????? this is so huge

random RIGHT MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING

random why can’t this man at least wear an fcb jersey /?/?/? this white polo shirt is stuck permanently on his body im truly cracking up

random FCB x McLaren collab when 👀

random OMGGGG he was in the VIP players zone

random DID ANYONE ELSE SEE OSCAR CHATTING WITH PEDRI’S SISTER

random I DID… i also saw fernando and their mom smiling while oscar and y/n were talking… im about to start a rumor

random i wonder what they were talking about 😭

random thank god y/n’s fluent in english but anyways they’re so cute together oh my god

random THEY AREEEE this is the first time i’ve seen so much emotion on oscar when he’s talking to someone

random bro looked too comfortable like he’s been to 5 family dinners already 😭

oscarpiastri Huge win! Thank you for having me I had a great time

random and we said oh we’re sure

random ahhh te amo oscar 😍😍😍

random this is insane

random i love this crossover soooo bad

random now we need an oscar and pedri pic together

random carlos sainz disliked this

random OSCCCCC 🧡🇦🇺

random BARÇA AND F1 YESSS 🙏🏼

liked by oscarpiastri, pedri, pablogavi, ferrantorres and 234,223 more

youruser VICTÒRIA!!!!!!!! no podría estar más orgulloso 💙❤️ (victory, i couldn't be more proud)

View all 3,456 comments

random liked 👀 by 👀 oscarpiastri

random girl he also commented imejsnhsha

pablogavi hermanaa ❤️ (sister)

youruser pablitooo 🥰

random ugh their friendship is to die for

random VAAAMOOOOSS!!!

oscarpiastri as they say, Visca el Barça

youruser hmm i think your spanish is improving

oscarpiastri i’d still want some of your lessons so i could be more fluent and all

random is this oscar trying to flirt

random here he comes world, please be kind to him

random IMJSJSHXBHWHAHAH

random most supportive sister ever 🥰😭 pedri’s so lucky to have you

random i wonder what pedri feels with all these sudden y/noscar propaganda happening 💀

pedri publicando como si no me gritaste todo el partido (posting like you weren’t yelling at me the whole match)

youruser SHHHHHHH

random I LOVE THEM 😭😭😭😭😭

random PEDRIIJSNABSHA

pedri siempre la más orgullosa. te quiero, enana ❤️(always the proudest one. love you, shortie)

youruser te amo 🪄🌟

random the switch up is killing me

liked by youruser, mclaren, alex_albon, isackhadjar and 464,556 more

oscarpiastri Hola Barcelona 👋 ready for a fast weekend

View all 11,332 comments

youruser hola 👋

oscarpiastri suddenly forgot every spanish word i rehearsed

random THIS IS GOOOLD 😭💀

random NOT OSCAR BEING DOWN BAD IN REAL TIME

random OSCAR PLEASE 😭😭😭

random no way she got oscar fumbling his language skills tears in my y/noscar eyes

random barcelona’s got a way of making u smile a little more

random probably had to do with a certain pretty gonzález sister

opeightyone Vamos 😎💪🏼💪🏼

random i have a good feeling about this weekend

random ya’ll hear me out. y/n attends the race and oscar will win this gp then they start dating and it will all be so poetic like like like

random on to something ❌ ON something ✔️

fernandoalo_oficial 🤔

random NANDO?/?/?:? what r u doing here 😭

liked by oscarpiastri, lamineyamal, raphinha, hctorforrt_ and 211,33 more

youruser could get used to this 😋

View all 8,446 comments

random the second slide… ain’t no way

random did somebody check on oscar

random girl i feel like that arm belongs to oscar..

random he’s in the likes but he didn’t comment is it over for y/noscar 🥀

pedri dios mío ¿qué es esto? (oh my god what is this)

pablogavi 😂😂😂

ferrantorres 😂😂😂

lamineyamal 😂😂😭😭

random LMDAO THEY KNOW SOMETHING

random a case that doesn’t sit right w me 💔

random THIS HAS ME YELLINGSHHSHS

youruser has added to their story!

liked by oscarpiastri, youruser, colepalmer10, ferrantorres, harrykane and 546,553 more

mclaren Welcoming some special people in our garage in Spain 🇪🇸🤝🧡

View all 12,331 comments

random did oscar like this while he was in the car??????????? LMFAOOOO

random Y/N ON THE SECOND SLIDE WE WON

random i knew she would attend today’s race 😭

random third picture is so cold 🥶🥶🥶

random barcelona’s sweetheart at the mclaren garage oscar’s plan is slowly coming together

random y/n’s so gorgeous

random right she’s unreal

random hermosa chica @youruser 🥺 (beautiful girl)

random why didn’t pedri attend with y/n like lewa ferran and eric were there but not him 😕

random he’s busy training with the national team

random some special people 🙂‍↕️ is one of your guest the special someone of ur driver 🙂‍↕️

random guys im gonna get delusional for a sec but i’d like to imagine that y/n’s wearing oscar’s mclaren jacket that’s all. thank u for listening

random here you go ❤️

liked by oscarpiastri, pedri, pablogavi, paucubarsi, mclaren, _rl9 and 312,112 more

youruser i quite like the color orange 🧡

View all 11,122 comments

oscarpiastri Hola 👋

* ♥ by author

random boy if u don’t put ur phone down… the race starts soon

random IM CRYING HE’S SO UNSERIOUS 😭😭

random he’s so lame i’m so endeared

oscarpiastri i like your cap

youruser a certain aussie with a cute smile gave it to me

random JUST FUCKING KISS GOD DAMN

random oh no she’s gonna make oscar malfunction before the race

pedri te criaste con el blaugrana, no empieces a cambiar de bando ahora... 🤨 (you were raised a blaugrana, don’t start switching sides now)

youruser no seas tan dramático (don’t be so dramatic)

random “i quite like the color orange” GIRL JUST SAY YOU’RE IN LOVE

random like mama we’re tired

mclaren Barcelona’s sweetheart gracing her presence in our garage 🧡

alejandrobalde ay, crecen tan rápido 🥲 (aw, they grow up so fast)

pablogavi JAJAJA 😂

random not these boys whacking y/n i know she’s sick of them 😭😭😭

lamineyamal 8️⃣1️⃣?

youruser sí (yes)

random okay chat it’s confirmed already

liked by youruser, ediepiastri, lamineyamal, pedri, mclaren, lewishamilton and 789,445 more

oscarpiastri What an enjoyable weekend

View all 20,334 comments

random oscar dedicating his win to his sister and y/n im gonna kill myself

ediepiastri ❤️🔥

random OSCAR MOUTHING HOLA WHILE HE WAS APPROACHING Y/N TO HUG HER IS THIS THEIR ROUTINE ITS SO CUTE FUCKEJ

pedri 👏👏👏🏆

random PEDRI APPROVE????

youruser bien hecho, mejor chico 🤗 (well done, best boy)

oscarpiastri Mi chica (my girl)

random WAR IS OVER

random oscar speaking in spanish 🙂‍↕️ the lessons from y/n is paying off

random MY FAVE COUPLE EVER

random they just make sm sense 😭🩷

mclaren VAMOS P1ASTRIIIIII 🧡🧡🧡

random such a great weekend!!! 😍

random futuro campeón 😎 (future champion)

liked by oscarpiastri, pedri, ediepiastri, lando, pablogavi and 321,132 more

youruser Hola 👋 huge win for osc congrats pretty boy 🥰 & the best weekend ever!!!!!!!! somebody pinch me (also thank u to edie for sending this pic of oscar trying to kick the ball lol)

View all 10,762 comments

random oscar piastri to barcelona here we go?

youruser let’s just stick to driving ❤️

random Y/NJDJSJSHSHHSHSHSHSH

oscarpiastri baby 🙁

random he calls her baby where’s my meds im gonna throw up they’re so 😭❤️❤️❤️😭

oscarpiastri Gracias preciosa (thank you gorgeous)

random he’s fluent now

random did anyone else see f1 putting “oscar piastri’s partner” when y/n appeared on the screen who else JUMPED

random this whole race was basically their hard launch 😭

random and people called me delusional when i was right 😒😒😒 this is so poetic

random and suddenly life is worth living 🚬

pedri bueno… si se le puede llamar lindo (well… if you can call it cute)

pablogavi 😂🥰🥰

lamineyamal el fútbol te echa de menos (football misses you)

youruser sabes que estaré allí en el partido de españa contra francia 😤 (you know i’ll be there in the spain vs france match)

pedri ¿vas a traer a cierto australiano? (are you bringing a certain australian?)

youruser obvio. ahora está atrapado conmigo 🙄 (duh. he’s stuck with me now)

oscarpiastri yes to whatever she said 😇

random this man is so whipped 😭

random there’s no saving him now i fear

oscarpiastri i don’t want to be saved thanks 👍🏻

random no way he replied to MEJDJSB

random oscar piastri winning the spanish GP in barcelona and officially dating the sister of the best spanish midfielder in the world… what prayers did he say…

random he’s living the life

random bagged the barcelona sweetheart and i had to stand up from my toilet to applaud

random girl who is going to be okay

[sleep-0-deprived]

Yandere male sea nymph x sailor reader drabble~! ૮꒰,,>﹏<,,꒱ა

WC:. 1.8k

Tags: pnp, double penetration, , sea nymphs have two cocks??, filthy smut, dub con, monster slime at as lube, dark themes, anal, mentions of mpreg, monster x human, Amab reader, monster anatomy, bottom male reader, no protection, anal creampies, cw lil blood, belly bulges <333

Taglist: @miyaisastar @asher-is-hotxp @silvern1006 @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts @gayaristocrat @whatupbishs

A/N: M’ sorry if my descriptions of tha monster aren’t accurate, S’ all jus m’ personal thoughts ! ( ≧ᗜ≦)

The feeling of cold water rushes your body all at once- the sea swallowing you up whole along with your ship, your arms reach up trying to make it to the top gasping out in desperate strides feeling the cold liquid fill your lungs when another wave crashes over you bringing you back to square one in the endless fight— this storm wasn’t supposed to come for another week.

You were supposed to have had time to make up enough money to live to last the durations of the storm but it didn’t work out that way seemingly. The sound of a calling filled your ears, it rang loud almost like a high pitch melody of wave splashing over each-other while it rained, the only thing to be seen was a old lighthouse giving light in the distance, you tried to swim closer fighting the tides.

The lighthouse shines light onto the water showing a cove off to the other side. You had no choice but to try to reach it for shelter from the storms before you got drowned and your muscles gave way to the force of the water. The light becomes more distant the further you make it towards the cove, it was dark and wet with the rocks being jagged in places but atleast you were standing on something solid that gave a reminder of the land you were very much missing right now.

“Such a pretty little thing you are”

As soon as you hear a voice your body goes stiff feeling all the blood in your veins just stop pumping, you look around quickly seeing a figure lurking in the darkness of the cove. A strange allure washed over you almost as if the monsters green eyes were calling out to you for you to come towards it?..why were you giving in- before you could think your legs took long strides forwards walking towards the nymph in a trance.

“What are you?”

“I am a creature of the waters, a nymph...I’ve seen you since you set sail on these waters whatever it takes to get you I would’ve- even if I had to rid of you of those wretched men”

“You had something to do with this- my crew is lost because of this”

“I am no god boy, but I do have enough strength to conjure up a storm, whatever I must do to catch you”

The words fell from the creatures lips like venom, his skin was cold to the touch with scales up his arms his face went unseen in the dark but his eyes were always felt he pushed you up against the wall of the wet cove leaving you nothing to grab or hold for comfort, he pressed his mouth to the side of your neck pulling your tunic down enough to expose the s/c flesh.

“You’re mine now- I don’t plan to ever let you escape me”

You felt sharp shark like teeth start to dig into you bringing a trickle of blood that spread across the wet fabric of your shirt. His hands held your hips pulling you back to him holding you against him with no chance of escaping.

The feeling of two lumps pressed to your ass was clear but you were too lost in the hot feeling in your neck, it was painful and rough but it brought pleasure too, his snake like tongue licked over the bite mark licking up the blood like it was ambrosia.

“You’re the sweetest thing to grace my tongue boy”

“Fuck-“

You hiss feeling one of his webbed hands slide down from your hip into your pants grabbing your soft cock and gripping it firm while he kisses your bruised and bitten neck. You buck your hips back into him pressing your ass up against the creature like a needy whore when your body gets forcefully aroused, you couldn’t help it even if it wasn’t in your wants your body reacted- your hormones were high and your body needed this.

You couldn’t even remember when the last time you had been properly fucked was, being out at sea never left the time for sex to be In your life. The sea monsters touches had you feeling like some horny teen all over again when you felt his nail poke at the tender tip of your cock earning a loud hiss to leave your lips. Whatever the two bulges were you rubbed your ass all over them creating friction between the sea nymphs groin and your pants.

“You want it so fucking bad don’t you, don’t even know my face an you already want my cocks”

“Cocks..?”

You could practically feel the grin your confused question got out of him, the kisses and licks on your neck halted but the touches your cock was receiving didn’t, in a moment of desperation you dig your nails into the stone wall of the cove and close your eyes meekly.

“You’ve never been mated by a sea creature, normally we don’t fuck humans but you’re the exception”

His hand slipped off your cock leaving you all stiff and disappointed at the loss of touch, his hands pull your pants down letting them fall around your ankles while he guides you pressing you down bending you over a rock with your cock bobbing between your thighs, then you feel them.

One slimy cock pressed between your cheeks and another between your thighs, you felt glad it was pitch because your mouth was watering at the thought of having them both stuffing you so full! Your rim puckered up like a rose bud expanding and opening again.

One of the monsters hands reaches down pressing between your shoulder blades forcing you to be pressed flat down against the rock all defenseless while the slickness tip of his first cock prods its way past your gummy walls making you cry out in pain and pleasure, you felt so full and on fire all at once arching your back deep.

“You’re as tight as a virgin aren’t you”

He coos out while you try to adjust to the size not being given any time before the sea monster starts fucking into you with his other cock slapping all hard against your thigh dripping precum and slime all over the floor of the cove, your walls open up wide accepting the cock that was being forced inside rubbing every ridge of your cavern, he was exploring you and groaning. The hand on your back sliding down back to your hip to hold it.

“O-h- hm so big~”

You can practically feel your stomach expand when you take his cock getting pulled back and fucked into it, you start rolling your hips giving a little wiggle to your ass trying to get him to fuck you harder while you pout and let your eyes rock back into your head. The sounds of waves from the outside becomes background noise compared to the moans that rolled off your tongue, you were splaying yourself in a wanton way on his dick.

“Don’t start acting like a girl in a pleasure house on me here- you’re a sailor act like one”

The words fall from his lips cooing and cunning leaving down with his hot breath on your neck pounding away at your insides having your hole stretched now taking him with ease. Your cock was painfully hard and untouched and you wanted to whine and complain of it but you felt his hand slipping down to his second cock pushing it against your pucker.

“T’mush- t’mush it huurts-!”

“Shh you can take it, I know you can”

Your mind becomes mush feeling your body taking more than it ever has before making your legs go like jello, if it wasn’t for the rock you were in top you would’ve fallen to the ground from how weak you felt. Once both cocks make their way inside you, the bulge in your stomach was unnatural almost looking knocked up with the monsters slime being used as lube dripping down your thighs on your balls all messy getting on the floor of the cove while his hand finally works its way to your cock pressing his chest to your back making out with your neck.

“Your hole is so greedy, you think it wants a baby. Is that what it is, do you need a few eggs inside you?”

“Close- so close”

You do your best to muster up coherent words feeling weak ready to cum at any moment, the two cocks split you open leaving you with a sense of knowing that you’ll never feel as stuffed in another man’s cock as you feel with his.

“You can cum all you want but I’m not stopping until I finish”

The sea creatures words make you pout a little leaking like a faucet in his hand with your neck drenched in his saliva having York prostate rammed and nailed into harshly making you jolt forward each time you feel him. Your rim starts burning again from being spread for so long but the pleasure is so high you can’t seem to care about the pain- the only thing in your mind anymore is orgasming.

He knew you were close when your walls clenched up tight and started spamming, shortly after hot ropes spurt from your tip making a mess on the rock. The thrusts continued in sync with his strokes, the nymph milked your cock like a milk cow getting the last drops out of you leaving your cock used up and tender twitching warmly in his palm.

“Gods, just look at the way you’re swallowing me boy, you’re hole is so greedy for dick”

You feel the vibrations of his groan against your neck. The way the veins on his cocks start to rub against your insides more harshly fucking you like he needs it, you can tell he’s on the verge and you can’t bring yourself to mind the thought..if he’s a monster then is his seed potent enough to give you a baby?..do you want to have his baby?

Your thoughts are cut short by the feeling of his first cock pressing to your prostate flooding you with thick ropes like he was trying to stuff a womb, his hips stutter pressing flushed against your ass holding still before his other cock starts shooting cum inside you bloating you up from the seed stuffing you.

Your insides overflow feeling cum dripping out of your ass down your thighs mixing in with his slime making a mess but his hands hold your waist letting your cock go as he presses as close as he can and continues humping his cum inside you.

You feel the cocks inside you twitching— they were already hard again and ready for the next round, you don’t know if you can take it you’re already so fucked out with your eyes glossed over, your hole so wrecked it can’t clench properly.

“You can take it, I’ve been waiting so long for you I can’t even help it mortal”

His voice sounded feral, you knew you weren’t going to find a way out of this one.

[yameoto]

SUPERNOVA CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

kpop idol caitlyn X her insatiably horny junior

"Noona is so cool!"  You mimic, voice pitching either higher or lower, depending on which of the plethora of comments you pick, at your leisure. "Caitlyn’s a CF goddess. Her talents are seriously wasted. Wah, her visuals are really otherworldly. Unnie looks so good I’m creaming my pants—" Caitlyn fixes you with a flat, unimpressed look, at that last one. “It doesn't say that.” You grin, like the effervescent angel you are. “Yeah. That was just me.”

tw; dom/sub!caitlyn, brat!reader, idolverse, girlcock, semi-public sex, sex in dance practice rooms, mirror sex, handjobs, handjobs during vlives, voyeurism, mild age-gap, age hierarchy dynamics, use of korean honorifics. idol!caitlyn x idol!reader wc; 5.1k. ao3

notes: set in modern day runeterra. ionia encompasses the entire region of asia in league which i personally find stupid but i dont make the rules. fluff/smut/humour. derivative of korean culture (kpop idol au) + pokes a lil fun at stan culture. no prior kpop knowledge is needed (though it would likely help) the sex is filthy regardless. wrote this after finding caitlyn is only a 1/4 white like hallelujah jesus

CAITLYN looks stupidly good. Like stupid, stupidly good. Her grey sweatpants are slung low on her hips, waistband of her briefs peeking out. Sweat-slickened abs glare back at you, from the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The outline of her bulge is visible. These are all observations that you latch into like an IV-drip hooked-up to your wrist, in order to stay alive—lest you die from the fatigue. And boredom.

“Please,” You grumble, head slumped on your knee as your arm drops to the floor, phone abandoned Candy Crush side, up. “Please, please, please, can we go home?” 

“No,” Caitlyn huffs, hands on her hips, looking entirely too good as she takes a momentary (and you mean, momentary) break to swig a sip of water, before she hurls herself right back into it, sweaty and stunning.

The two of you have been trapped in the practice rooms for what feels like eternity. Or, more accurately, Caitlyn has trapped you in the practice rooms for what feels like eternity. You would rather be snuggled up and content in the comfort of your dorms; rather than slogging away in the basement, like you’re still trainees clawing your way up the company ladder inch by inch—rather than the four-time daesang winners, face of Ionia’s girl-groups’, and other innumerable accolades under your belts that seemingly mean nothing to your fearless group leader. At least, at the moment.

You’ve long slunk to the floor, sleepy eyes tracing the way sweat rolls down Caitlyn’s nape as she re-runs the movements for about the zillionth time. Her shoulder-blades flex through the thin fabric of her shirt, sweat dampening into a darkened pool in a way that should be gross, but on her, it just looks sexy. The ache in your muscles has simmered to a low burn, by now. Jeez, your eyelids are slipping. Thank God you have your sweet leader to ogle. The sight of Caitlyn’s bulge peeking through those sweatpants is practically your sole motivator in keeping your eyes open.

“You know,” After what feels like a decade, you pipe up again, because time has begun to melds together. “You’ve got it. Seriously.” The swig of water that sluices down your throat is lukewarm and unsatisfactory. Fuck, you’re thirsty. “The stage is a week away. You’ll be fine.”

Caitlyn’s eyes narrow at you through the mirror, incredulous.

“When in the world has fine ever been good enough?” 

Okay, sure. Caitlyn’s right. But she’s more than fine. Almost-perfect, actually—and come seven days—her dance moves will indubitably be heaven-sent and her ending fairy will probably trend #1 on three different social media platforms, and you will most definitely tug her ear endlessly about it, like the benevolent, supportive junior you are.

Seven days prior, however—and all you are is tired, grouchy, and maybe just a little bit horny. 

“I crave the sanctity of my blankets.” You lament, hand falling over your forehead as you languish on the floor, because the sun has probably set by now and you are seriously contemplating the possibility of dying of old age in this godforsaken practice room. (Not that that would be so bad, if Caitlyn were with you).

“You can go home, you know,” Caitlyn sighs, twisting around to face you, sneakers squeaking on the glossy wooden floors. 

“How am I supposed to sleep without my favourite member as a bolster?”  You pout, snatching on the chance to act a brat, immediately. Caitlyn just rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch upwards, so negligible that if you weren't so tuned in to all-things-Caitlyn, you might’ve missed it.

“Clingy.” She mutters, like she doesn't love it. Loves being your favourite. Not that it matters, because the glimmer of hope that flickers in your chest when Caitlyn crouches down in the direction of her bag—is immediately quashed when she only taps her screen, and the speaker rewinds all the way to the start. 

You’re really starting to hate this song.

“Are you serious? That’s not enough to rouse your cold, dead, heart?” You whine, because usually Caitlyn would've caved to your grabby-hands and doe-eyes by now (especially with the way you look; lips parted and shining with spit, water trickling down your chin down the column of your throat, from the leftover rivulets of your water-bottle.) Not that Caitlyn doesn't notice. She’s just really, really determined to get this right.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“You work yourself too hard.”

You stretch to a stand, elongated and cat-like before you slink over and sling yourself dramatically along Caitlyn’s back. Her expression contorts into exasperation. She attempts to turn her head, to face you—to no avail. Not when you’re pushing her up against the mirror and the pinning her down against glass with the power of aggressive spooning on your side. Her hand shoots out to brace against the mirror, as your fingers hook the hem of her sweats, and Caitlyn stiffens under your thumb, lips falling open against her will.

“Darling,” She inhales, in that addictive, throaty accent of hers. Caitlyn sounds almost pained, as she catches your wrists—though she neither takes them in or wrests them away. The both of you have full view of the rising tent in her groin.

“What?” You smirk, teeth grazing the shell of her ear, like the sneaky little bastard you are. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to practice with a boner, unnie. That must hurt.”

Caitlyn’s breath hitches, and her knees almost buckle, if it weren’t for the way your arms tighten around your waist and squeeze the growing problem at her crotch. Your fingers twine with the string of her trackpants, loosening them under slim, deft fingers.

“Honorifics? Really?” Her voice is tight. She’s screwed. You only ever whip those out when you want something, seeing as how you've been speaking informally to your technical senior  since your very first meeting, in trainee days, (an accident she so loves to recount on variety shows. “It’s not my fault you just looked so young and pretty, unnie.” You’d fumble in defense, eyes wide and doling out the extra sparkle for the cameras as they zoomed-in on your frantic apologies, laugh track sure to be edited in. “What was I supposed to think?”

“You’re lucky I was too kind to scold you,” Caitlyn sighs, and—in a dramatic show of theatricality—flips the inky-blue curtains of her hair behind her shoulder, much to the hosts delight. “I can be really mean, baby.” 

That had been a hit. Probably because of the way her drawl had lilted playfully and she’d cupped your jaw in the most egregious display of fan service you’d ever seen. Caitlyn’s always known how to wrap the media around her pretty fingers; and your stammer and ensuing blush had mercilessly crowded your feed for at least two weeks, afterwards.)

That’s in public, though. In private? 

Caitlyn is a puddle to the graze of your fingers along her hipbone, and the glide of your breath up her neck. Dark eyes meet hers, hooded and intent, reflected in the pane of metal in front of you. It’s certainly a sight to behold. The two of you are both dripping in sweat, Caitlyn’s cheeks flushed, bare-faced and glowing—hair tangled up in that loose ponytail that you've always found so much hotter on her, than any amount of hours in the styling chair could ever produce.

“I really need to..” Caitlyn’s protests sound weak even to her own ears. Especially when heat pools in hot, throbbing waves that rush straight to her dick, and she's cut off by her own gasp when you nuzzle in the nook between her shoulder-blades and your hands—beautiful, cunning hands—ghost over her crotch and squeeze. Her entire world lurches into a haze, body spasming upwards.

“Unnie,” You breathe, sweet and soft, like the devil in her ear, “please fuck me.”

Just like that, Caitlyn can’t take it any longer. A low, strangled noise rips from her throat, eyes fogging over and black eclipsing blue. Lithe hands coil around your wrists, and flips your positions entirely—thrusting you right up against the glass.

Her muscles are throbbing, hours of dance practice flaming up her bones; but she pins you down with the strength of a woman possessed, all the same. As far as Caitlyn’s concerned, she’s like a sleeper agent to your bedroom voice, and the fact could never shine with more clarity, than now (other than the time you’d done a Lola Shark impression in an interview and she’d gotten, to her horror, embarrassingly hard underneath the blanket thrown over her lap. She’d had to call in a bathroom break, to take care of it—much to your smug, haunting amusement).

In the mirror, you watch as Caitlyn’s breathing shallows into pants, tongue licking hot up the stretch of your neck to under your jaw. Neither of you miss the brief, smugly satisfied spark to your eyes and glowing hot between your thighs, even as both squeeze shut when you arch up against Caitlyn’s bulge. She grinds down against your ass, and you moan, so brazen she almost can’t believe it.

“Shit. You're so shameless,” Caitlyn mutters, breaths rushing harsh against your shoulder as she fumbles with the knot at your sweats, rutting hopelessly into the coil of your figure. The moment thread slips free, pants pooling to your ankles as you bend over, head thrown back—Caitlyn’s brand-name briefs soak with a splurge of pre so intense she almost thinks she’s come early.

“You want my fingers?” Caitlyn asks, just to be a bitch. Your eyes squint open to glare at her through blurry vision and through an even blurrier visage.

“Don’t joke,” You spit, voice hoarse with want. It's meant to sound demanding, but all it comes out is whiney, and Caitlyn’s laugh sends shivers down your nape.

There’s a millisecond in which your mind empties completely, and it's almost cruel how you can only see the reflection of Caitlyn’s cock curving upwards from her underwear rather than the real deal. 

Caitlyn’s grasp is like steel around your neck. She thrusts you forwards, your flushed cheeks smushing against the cool surface of the mirror as your stuttered breaths puff in grey clouds of condensation. A groan wrangles itself out of your throat from being manhandled like that, knees wobbling the moment you feel something hot, thick and so, so wet press insistently against the backs of your thighs. Arousal has already begun to drip down your legs, running down in rivulets and moistening the floor under your feet. Yours or Caitlyn’s—you don’t have the eyes to know.

“Unnie,” You breathe, shakily, voice raw. Your fingers are slippery against glass, and you whimper when the familiar stretch of two fingers sinks into your cunt. You slide open, just like that, and Caitlyn temporarily wrenches you back so that you can see your fogged-up reflection in all its full, filthy glory. 

“S’not enough,” You pant, back arching and ramming urgently against her digits she’s spreading you wide, with—so eye-wateringly slow. Maybe it’s the fact that you've been working yourself up, blatantly eyeing her down, for hours since your head checked out of training and your brain devolved into its most primitive urges in coping with your mind-numbing boredom. 

“Not enough?” She grins, sharp-toothed and devastating, adoring the upper-hand. “What? You need a third finger, baby?” The noise that tears out of you is almost like a wounded animal, and you'd be embarrassed if you weren't so overcome with need and prolonging this teasing sounds like torture.

So, you answer with the obvious, “Your cock.” You hiss through gritted teeth, because Caitlyn loves it when you beg for her dick and you’re too hare-brained and empty to do anything more than push back, impossibly deeper into her fingers. They sink to her knuckles of entirely your own volition, without her having to do so much as twitch. 

Caitlyn’s laugh is practically a goad in itself. The lush curtain of her lashes are lowered, irises swallowed up by the deep dilation of her pupils. Still, though, she takes her time in playing with you, just a little longer. Revels in the way you thrash around her fingers, fucking yourself back, desperate.

Herself is one thing. Her dick can only take so much, however. The ache becomes too much, too soon, and the second she runs her glossy head against the drenched, hot pulse of your hole—she can’t not shudder, knot in her throat, before her fingers slip out of your pussy and your consequent whimper is interrupted by the plunge of her cock.

“Hah, baby..” Caitlyn whimpers, eyes fluttering back as she fucks you against the mirror, nails dragging up your hips and digging into supple flesh. Never has Caitlyn felt so at home, submerged in the deep, velvet ocean of your cunt.

“Unnie—” You gasp. It’s the one word, echoing over and over, like an all-consuming siren song throughout your head—with each gasp that comes with every thrust of Caitlyn’s hips, motions growing sloppier as the exhaustion of hours of tireless exertion catches up to the both of you. She nips at your ear, then down the curve of your nape, to the unblemished skin of your upper back. Teeth grazing, pads of her fingers leaving scorching trails as she gropes up your body—your mind a jumbled, fuzzy mess. Her cock plunges in and out, still guided, though she never slips out more than mid-way; bodies sticking together like gum. Like she can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment—even if it is to pummel your cunt until you can hardly take it anymore.

It’s only when the pumps and rolls begin to slow into simple, gentle rocks, to absolutely nothing but a twitch—that your mind clumsily clasps onto a semblance of clarity, hasty and brief, like you know it’ll slip away and out of reach, soon. “Wha..?” You rasp, half-slurred, even if what you really want to whinge is; What’s goin’ on? Why’d you stop? And, please, please, please. Don’t stop. Keep goin’. Fill me up. Please, don’t ever stop— and other half-baked nonsense that you’ll be glad your tongue was too thick and heavy in your mouth to spill.

“I can’t mark you,” Caitlyn grunts, and your eyes sharpen, just a little. Her tongue peeks out from her lips as her expression looks disproportionately distraught, like it’ll be the end of the world if she doesn’t stake some sort of physical claim on you, eyes darting downwards to your unblemished shoulders with a low growl of frustration.

Distantly, that part of you is still clinging onto reality, knows she’s right. That your comeback is in a week’s time and risking a hickey or a bite-mark or worse (because Caitlyn is stronger and sharper and rougher than her delicate figure should ever have been allowed to be), is a bad, bad idea.

But the larger part of you—the part of you that is currently being railed by her unnie’s cock and trying desperately not to squirt cum all over the practice room mirror—rasps out a reckless, ragged, “Who cares?”, and that’s all the permission Caitlyn needs.

Caitlyn pulls out, and slams herself in again, grip on your waist, bruising. Your hands go sliding, uselessly against the steamy surface of the mirror, long fogged-up under the slick tangle of your bodies. She’s mouthing slurred nonsense into your ear, the music speaker knocked over by one of your ankles and emitting distant sounds from where it's rolled, to the other side of the room. Neither of you could give a single fuck. 

Not the least, when Caitlyn’s hand is sliding up your throat and thumbing over your gaping lips. It feels as if a pink-hued fuzziness has descended the room and become a thick veil over everything, and when her fingers slip into the hot, wet gasp of your mouth—it's only right for you to take the digits in your tongue and suck. 

“Ahnngh—Cait—”  

“When did I say you could speak informally to me?” Caitlyn husks, fingers pressing deeper into the roof of your mouth. In your reflection, you can see the razor angle of Caitlyn’s jaw as she nuzzles into your ear. The obscene glisten of your spit, coating her fingers and coasting down your chin as her digits languish between your parted lips. You look every bit like her precious fuckdoll, right now.

“Unnie—”

“Ah-ah.”

“Sunbae.” 

“Mm. That’s better.”

Her free hand skims up your shirt, slipping up the taut lines of your body and flicking idly at one nipple. You whine, garbled around the gag of her hand, and Caitlyn lets out a moan of content when your pussy tightens around her shaft.

“Fuck,” She pants, teeth sinking down into your shoulder and you buck, even though the pain barely registers with how Caitlyn barrels her cock in you, deeper, and your eyes roll back into your skull. Your thighs are shaking. “M’gonna—hfgh—” 

Her hips draw upwards, and Caitlyn cums like a faucet. All of it, inside you. Outside of you. Dripping from your still-leaking cunt and droplets getting fucked out with each, desperate thrust as she moans, guttural. “Take it—fuck—” Caitlyn groans, harsh and insistent as she pounds, your pussy squelching—so wonderfully wet—as your fingers scramble against the glass, her fingers cramming deep inside your mouth.

“Ah-ah—fuck!”

The two of you go crashing down, sliding down against the mirror and onto the floor with a twinning, indecipherable slew of obscenities, a boneless, panting heap, still moving in tandem. 

You both slump, slippery and sticky. The song on the speakers re-starts, yet again, from the other side of the room, though it's the first time it's even pierced your ears in the past forty minutes. Caitlyn groans, pushing her nose into the crook of your neck, arms tightening around your waist. The mirror is splattered in both your cum.

“We’re gonna have to clean this up, aren’t we?”

“..Probably.” You sigh, still leaking around her cock as you angle your head, the two of you slotting together like missing puzzle pieces.

Twenty-four hours and countless Kleenex wipes later (and really, cleaning your own cum from floor-to-ceiling mirrors—with two half-guilty reflections staring right back at you—is an uniquely humbling experience); it was totally worth it to see Caitlyn appropriately red, after the crash of post-nut clarity.

It’s your one, blissfully empty day before comeback promotions launch you all into full-throttle. You intend to enjoy it while it lasts. 

“Your latest Lotte CF went viral,” You pop behind her, totally innocously if weren’t for that familiar, impish glint in your eyes. Caitlyn sighs, not even glancing up from the stove, completely nonplussed. Probably because Caitlyn could record herself taking a piss and it would chart #1 on Melon.

“The seonjiguk is simmering.” She ignores you. You ignore her right back.

“Look at those dimples,” You beam like a little shit as you wave the video in her face. “Maybe you should go into acting. The GP would go crazy.”

“No thanks,” Caitlyn snorts, hand lifting upwards to stifle a brief yawn, sleeves coming up all the way to her knuckles. “been there, done that.” 

“Oh, right. All your Piltovian film connections.” You hum, idly tracing the underneath of Caitlyn’s elbow as you lean over her shoulder to watch her cook. She’s markably improved from her humble beginnings of blackened, bubbling slag (what was once instant Buldak), or the scotchmarks that still hail the kitchen tiles, to this day.

“Mhm. I was almost poached. My mother wanted me to—what was that? Follow in her footsteps.”

“Well, I’m grateful that you didn't,” You hum, into her shoulder. You poke her side, grinning. “Then you wouldn't have met me, and wouldn't that be tragic?”

Caitlyn scoffs, but you feel her sink a little deeper into your embrace, eyes flitting to settle onto the top of your head, as you nudge into her. You both, really are grateful.

You’re pretty sure Ionia is grateful, too. 

Whatever the day, it always feels like Caitlyn’s name has taken up a permanent residence in the nation’s newsites. ICE PRINCESS. AI VISUALS. ATTITUDE PROBLEM. Her quarter Piltovian and subsequent accent injects an ‘attractive exoticism’ (or whatever management had stapled to your files, at the dawn of debut), that had made Caitlyn internationally explosive, too. 

The Kiramman surname certainly helped. Caitlyn’s debut was like, the biggest plot-twist in nepotism, ever. It was like if Nicole Kidman’s kid suddenly became Hatsune Miku. Not to mention the fact the Kirammans are the largest benefactor of Hextech, whose global rollout of leading-edge tech has gone unmatched. Of all careers for the Kiramman’s mysterious, devastatingly attractive daughter to take—this is the one that took the entire globe off-guard. Including the great and glamorous, Cassandra Kiramman.

Of course, the initial shock long lapsed underwater, with the constant roil of the media waves. Caitlyn’s fame, however, has not.

“Noona is so cool!”  You mimic, voice pitching either higher or lower, depending on which of the plethora of comments you pick, at your leisure. “Caitlyn’s a CF goddess. Ah, her talents are seriously wasted. Is she an angel? Her visuals are really otherworldly—”

“Get that away from me.” Caitlyn swats your phone away with a scowl, pretty pink flush glowing on her features.

“Don’t act all coy,” You prod her so-highly-lauded cheekbones as Caitlyn huffs in annoyance, though begrudgingly leans against the touch anyways. You squish. “We all know you’re preening inside.”

“I am not!”

“Ooh, sexy. I love it when your accent comes out like that.”

Caitlyn groans, because you’re impossible, and just twists so that she’s facing you, back against the kitchen counter. You reach behind her to switch off the stove.

She hooks her fingers into the hem of your pyjama shorts, thumbing over familiar cotton. She sighs outwardly, propping her head up on your shoulder and slumping forwards to rest the cold press of her nose into the crook of your shoulder. Her fingers skim up your shirt, absently rubbing circles into the plane of your stomach.

“You know I hate it when you read those.”

“About how you look like an eepy bunny when you’re sleepy? Or that you have moles in the shape of a giraffe on your nape.” You arch a brow, looking past her as you flick through the blurs of text in various degrees of capitalisation, on your phone. A subtle smirk lifts your lips. “Hey. Is that true? Let me check.”

She scowls, and then almost looks offended that you don’t know that already (You do. Caitlyn also has a darkened, heart-shaped birthmark indented in the crook of her inner thigh—but that’s just for you to know, thank you very much).

Your voice raises a pitch. “Unnie looks so good I’m creaming my pants!”

Caitlyn fixes you with a flat, unimpressed look. “It doesn't say that.”

You grin, like the effervescent angel you are. “Yeah. That was just me.”

Oh, now Caitlyn’s cheeks go red. You push valiantly past the triumphant flutter in your heart, in favour of continuing your teasing. Hey—there’s no schedule today, the dorms are all to yourselves—and you’re on a roll. 

“Look. They wanna steal your eyes and put them in a boba drink.”

Thoroughly fed-up with your antics, Caitlyn snatches the phone out of your hand, and you immediately squirm, to lunging for it. Caitlyn’s ridiculous height advantage has the one-up on you, though, and you puff out an aggrieved yelp of protest when she dangles it above your head, like a dickhead.

“Hey, what the fuck?” You complain, like your comeuppance wasn't exactly what you were hoping for. Except you were more aiming for a pin-you-against-the-fridge, fuck-the-insides-out-of-you type of comeuppance. Not a sordid reminder that you need a stool to reach the top of Caitlyn’s head. “Don’t lord your freakish Frankenstein genetics over me!”

Caitlyn laughs, eyes flickering down. “Are you on your tip-toes right now?” 

Your eyes narrow, because you do not appreciate having the tables turned on you. Your hand shoots up to cup her jaw, tilting it upwards. Caitlyn softens, putty in your hands, adorable furrow in her brow melting away along with her pride as she sinks into your palm with a soft sigh, arm falling to her side.

There we go.

“It’s not my fault you avoid socials like the plague. I’m just doing my duty to take care of my leader’s PR. Your fans are starving.”

Caitlyn grumbles, “Well, let them starve.” though it comes out pinched between smushed lips, cheeks squishing like a dumpling. So heartless, like she’s not the industry’s princess and probably makes up a total of 50% of the company’s annual income. You know exactly why, as you cradle her face in her palms and watch as she leans upwards because no matter how disgruntled Caitlyn acts, or how shockingly humble she is under that front of aloof, arrogance–she definitely preens under attention.

Just. Only yours. 

“Hey, you know what? We should go live right now.”

“What—?” Caitlyn stammers, flabbergasted by the sudden change in direction, “Don’t—“

Too late. Within seconds, you’ve swiped your phone back from her limp hands and flipped the vlive on. Recording. Like, now. Damn, you're speedy. 

“Ah..” Caitlyn’s expression smooths over to that charming, impeccably gorgeous grin of hers that shows off the sharp curves of her cheekbones and has won her the hearts of a nation. 

You pull her to the couch, and under the scrutiny of the camera—Caitlyn acquises with little more than a subtle elbow to your ribs, when the both of you go thudding into the cushions with a low oomph.

Then, you flop against her chest, and the stream of hearts that ensue are absolutely incredible, comments rolling in faster than you can read them. There’s a reason why the two of you are the most popular pairing in the group.

“Hm. Is it on?” You muse, faux confusion tugging on your pretty features. Knitted brows and a plush little pout always do the job, especially when you add a sneak of tongue. No doubt to be screenshotted and re-uploaded countless times, within the next hour. “Hello? Can you guys hear us?”

Which is, you know, the perfect time to grab Caitlyn’s dick through her pants.

A choked noise resounds beside you, and you don’t glance over, for you’re too busy fiddling with the phone and the settings and all other kinds of bullshit that is really just an excuse for you to focus your attention on snaking a hand down Caitlyn’s waistband, just out of view of the camera. “Oh! It’s working. Did you miss us?” You beam, as Caitlyn struggles not to either sock you in the stomach or throw her head back and moan.

If anybody notices Caitlyn’s pupils are suspiciously blown, it doesn’t come up. What does come up, is her ever traitorous cock that lilts immediately into your touch. Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

“Aw, little Caity’s missed me, too,” You croon, as your sneaky fucking fingers stroke idly along her girth, underneath the veil of her sweatpants and just over the thin fabric of her underwear. Caitlyn visibly bristles, because, 1. You’re jacking her off. 2. She hates that your coo instigates a flood of love-bombing so intense, that the hearts on the screen almost completely obscure the both of you. 3, and the most important one; you just gave her dick a nickname! 

“Cait.” You tease out, eyes glittering, not even bothering to conceal your amusement as Caitlyn’s hips buck upwards, her fingers pinching against your sides, lips completely shut mum, for fear she’ll let slip a moan on camera. “C’mon. Say something. You missed them too, right?”

Gods. Caitlyn hates you. She really, really hates you. Just—not enough to not shove your hand away when it starts to peel away the waistband of her underwear. If only because the feeling of precum soaking its seat, sticking to her skin, and not because she’s itching for the sweet relief of your hand around her cock.

“..Hi,” Caitlyn forces her winning, boxy grin, and the years of practice make it an admirably unstrained effort. Maybe she really should go into acting. “Mm. Long time no see, hm?” 

“Unnie’s being awkward, today.” You snark, all sly, and Caitlyn shoots you a glare. She’s rewarded by the sudden, fervent warmth of your hand wrapping around her dick, and then the harsh tug of your fist that has her knees jerking upwards and her dastard slit spurting out a shiny, hot glob of precum. She swallows back a low, strangled whine, like a dry pill. Oh, Gods. She’s supposed to say something.

“Ah, just..—we’ve—ah—”

In a rare show of mercy (because apparently, you’re not out to throw both your careers to the dogs), you swipe the phone back with the most cherubic, triumphant grin to adorn your face, literally ever. Catilyn lets slip a barely-audible hiss as your fingers coil, just a little tighter, stroking up and down—thumb running back over the swollen, gloatingly shiny cockhead.

“We just had a long time in the practice rooms for our comeback, yeah? So we’re pretty tired. Right, unnie?” 

Oh, you're really pushing it, now. 

“Mm. We’ve been—working. Really hard.” She has to lean out of the screen to release a silent, desperate gasp, nails digging into the back of the couch as she tries to rut up into your hand in a way that doesn't obviously send the sofa, trembling. You idly thumb over her slit, smearing the thick, embarrassingly copious amounts of pre down her length. It twitches in your palm, as you ramble on about schedules and the comeback and spoilers and other things that have long become white noise in Caitlyn’s ears. Her hips chase your touch, brazenly, now. She barely even realises when you’re calling it quits; early, too. Because obviously, this was all just to fuck with her.

“Caitlyn,” You sing-song—smirking (supremely unsubtly), at the camera. “Say bye-bye.”

She only just registers the comment. Barely. “Bye.” Caitlyn’s voice is a low croak, hips arching upwards off the couch just as you end the live. Just in time, too, because—

“Oh, fuck.” Caitlyn releases the longest moan of her life, cum spilling over your fist, and she collapses back into the couch. Your phone falls from your hand, and you’re practically shaking with laughter. 

(“Little Caitey,” Caitlyn grumbles, after the fact, with your head nestled between her thighs in apology, “That’s preposterous. What’s so little about her?” Nothing. But there’s no fun in that, is there? At the slow, sly smile spreading on your face, Caitlyn groans. “What?”

“You referred to her in third-person.”

“..Please just suck me off already.”)

[contact-guy]

helloooo this is a MASTER POST of my Sherlock Holmes annotations, aka shitpost doodles of my favorite parts with occasional headcanons. I will pin this so it's available and update it as I go because this feels like it's becoming a full series, god help me.

I'm reading the stories in the order they occurred (according to Baring-Gould, who I am currently arm wrestling in the astral plane over how many wives Watson had) so that's how I will present them!

EDIT: decided to draw them in the order that makes sense to me, Baring-Gould you’re too silly

EDIT 2: this is basically a webcomic at this point, with ongoing continuity and a romantic storyline that can be enjoyed if you read in order. I did not intend this, but I have Sherlock Holmes disease and there's only one cure (doing this)

EDIT 3: content warning/advertisement depending on your temperament: this series gets into one of my big interests, historical queerness, period accurate homophobia, and how laws around queerness affected lived experience. it also has things that you can expect from a Sherlock Holmes story like: drug use involving needles, violence, flagrant use of old timey guns, and people dying in shocking and mysterious ways!

Copies of Volume 1 can be ordered here!

A Study in Scarlet 🩸

The Speckled Band 🐍

The Resident Patient 🩺

The Noble Bachelor 👰

The Second Stain 📮

The Reigate Squires 📝

The Dancing Men 👯‍♂️

Silver Blaze 🏇🏻

The Six Napoleons ⚫️

The Red Circle 🕯️🪟

The Greek Interpreter 🩹

Mycroft Interlude 🎩

The Beryl Coronet 🥪

The Yellow Face 🙂

The Hound of the Baskervilles 🐺

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

-Part Four

-Part Five

-Part Six

-Part Seven

The Gloria Scott ⚓️

The Valley of Fear 🏰

-Part One

-Part Two

Shoscombe Old Place 🎣

Charles Augustus Milverton 💌

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

-Part Four

-Part Five

The Copper Beeches ✂️

-Part One

-Part Two

The Sign of the Four 💉

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

-Part Four

-Part Five

-Illustration

-Part Six

-Part Seven

The Cardboard Box 📦👂🏻

Second Interlude 💒

A Scandal In Bohemia 💃

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

The Stockbrokers Clerk 🦷

The Engineer’s Thumb 👍🏻

The Crooked Man 🦝

The Naval Treaty 🌹

The Five Orange Pips 🍊

The Man With The Twisted Lip 🧽

-Part One

-Part Two

The Boscombe Valley Mystery 🪨

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

The Dying Detective 🦪

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

Christmas Eve, 1890 🎄

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

The Blue Carbuncle 🪿💎

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

-Part Four

The Blanched Soldier 🪖

The Final Problem 🏔️

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

-Part Four

-Part Five

-Part Six

-Part Seven

-Part Eight

-Part Nine

-Part Ten

-Part Eleven

The Empty House 👤

-Part One

-Part Two

-Part Three

-Part Four

-Part Five

-Part Six

A Case of Identity 💍

-Part One

-Part Two

The Red Headed League 👨‍🦰

-Part One

-Part Two

[asvtrials]

𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

Emperor Geta x fem!reader, minors dni!

masterlist

summary: Emperor Geta was a selfish lover. He expected you to give him everything, every thread of your being, body, and soul. Yet he refused to do the same. Why would he? He was the Emperor and you were nothing but his concubine, not too long ago you were a common whore that he just happen to take a liking to, just a vessel for his satisfaction. So why was his mind suddenly screaming for him to kneel before you, to let your thighs straddle his face until he suffocates? warnings/tags: smut, mention of an orgy in the beginning, mention of exhibitionism, generally ancient Rome things, Emperor Geta tries to act unbothered but is smitten for his concubine, facesitting, oral (f! receiving), p in v, kind of rough, sub/dom dynamics (obviously), implied abuse, potentially out of character, not accurate to the Gladiator franchise...

a/n: This man is consuming my thoughts. This is me basically pushing my pussy drunk Geta agenda. I love the idea of Emperor Geta being arrogant and selfish but caving at the idea of hearing her scream and moan as loudly as that woman. 'Mae Columba' means my dove, 'Corculum' means sweetheart. Also, this is my first time writing this man

tags: @teechallas-blog @ladynoonwraith @quuinyoung @ghostinhours @slasherflickchick @marn13s-vilewhispers @munsongirl48 @getas-empress @hillarymurray4 @cleo-2345 @lookingformuses @meganfoxismywife @claa-01 @funsquadgoalzz-blog w/c: 3.3k English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistakes I make. I tried present tense for the first time.

── ୨ৎ

Your thin tunic provides you with little to no warmth, yet you weren't cold even on this chilly night.

Your Emperor's hand runs up and down your right side, his fingers keep grazing your nipple but he is too focused on conversing with Macrinus to notice the impact of his action.

Your eyes wander around the room, from the people who drank, smoked, and laughed, too gone to do anything other than that, to the numerous naked, sweaty bodies intertwined with each other in the most intimate way that was humanly possible.

Yet there was nothing intimate about what you observe. It was primal and carnal, most of them didn't even look like people anymore, the scene becoming too animalistic and raw.

These types of gatherings were rather common in the Palatine and you have gotten used to settings like this one. But this time you couldn't take your eyes off of two people. Two prostitutes amongst the crowd of moving bodies caught your attention.

A woman sitting on top of a man, on his face… The expression of pure bliss she had looks like it was taken out of a vulgar painting, a carefully crafted sculpture depicting the most euphoric moment of one's life. The man's tongue works meticulously on the woman’s cunt making her scream and moan like she was touched by the god's themselves.

The sight was enough for your breath to get caught in your throat. 

That made Emperor Geta turn with a frown, some wine dripping from his full lips. You don’t notice that his eyes travel the path of your gaze, focusing on the same pair as you.

You snap back to reality when his hand gripped your thigh. If you weren't used to his rough touches you would yelp in pain.

When you meet his eyes, there's something behind them that makes you pause. Without a second glance, he turns back to his conversation, leaving you confused. But you don’t miss the way his hand slides further between your legs, almost teasingly.

It wasn't unusual for him to touch you in front of everyone, be it in these types of events or when the gladiator fights bored him to the point where he ordered you to get on your knees and ‘entertain’ him yourself.

But this time, his thumb merely grazes the thin fabric of your tunic between your legs as his hands grip your exposed thigh. Possessively.

Your mind started to race. Did you anger him? Was he upset?

You are in a room filled with naked bodies fucking each other like animals and it never angered him before when you watched. Sometimes you would even comment how ‘sloppy’ their technique was and he would chuckle. So what happened now?

You lean on his side, sliding your hand to his cheek, caressing it gently. He doesn’t react but he doesn’t push you away either. That feels like a win, an opening.

After being his concubine for so long you learned how to behave around him, how to slither your way out of trouble in case you had upset him.

A little touch here, a kiss there, a plea for forgiveness honeyed with praises about how good he is to you along with some dick sucking usually does the trick.

Geta was an emperor but he was also a man with a very big ego. You quickly understood that as much as it is a nuisance it could also become an advantage.

By the time you followed him to his chambers, it was well past midnight.

He had made it a habit to share a bed with you, not even the guards looked surprised anymore.

He walks inside the moment the guards open the heavy doors. He reaches for his golden belt with a heavy sigh but you quickly stop him. “Let me, my Emperor.” You speak, your voice soft. You quickly approach him and meet his stern gaze, waiting for his approval.

Geta lets go of the belt, letting his arms fall to his sides. He looks spent and tired from the long day but you could sense something else frustrating him.

Carefully, you undo his belt, feeling his shoulders relax at the loss of the heavy material. Your eyes travel up his body before finally meeting his gaze through your lashes but you are met with the same cold look from before. 

You take a step back to settle the belt on the table. You aren’t sure if you should approach him again. You expected him to kiss you, to touch you while you were so close but he didn't do either. He just watched you with a raised brow and gritted teeth.

You avert your gaze, focusing on the detailed carvings of the table ignoring the fact that you had seen it a million times before.

You hear his sandals brush against the marble floor, making you shiver. You weren't sure what to expect, he hasn't looked this displeased with you in a long while.

“Mae Columba” ‘My dove’ he says, his voice barely above a whisper but it still held the authority of an Emperor. “Do you know why you wear such lavish cloths?” He asks, not expecting you to answer before continuing, his voice dropping “Why do you smell as good as you smell? Why do golden jewels hang from your ears and wrap around your wrists? Why you aren't passed around my soldiers like a common whore?” 

He was right behind you now, his arms coming to cage you between him and the table. 

His harsh words forced tears to collect on your lash line. You took a deep breath but your voice still quivered as you spoke. “Because you're the Emperor…”

“Because I'm the Emperor.” He repeats softly against your ear, yet there is no softness in his tone. “Then why do you wish for me to become someone else?” 

“I don—” 

“Lies!” He shouts, making you flinch away.

You don't dare to face him, remaining turned to him as his hands start to wander down your sides. “I saw how you looked at those filthy commoners…you were entranced, my dove” 

“My Emperor I—” 

“Have I not done enough for you?” He whispered, but his quiet tone gave you no comfort. His hands moved to your clothed chest, squeezing your breasts mercilessly.

A small whine escapes your lips, your back arching against him. “You gave me everything, my Emperor.” You manage to say through rugged breaths.

He hums pleased. “Clearly not enough since you wish to see me between your legs like a filthy whore.” He murmurs against your ear.

“No!” You yelp, grabbing his forearms after he squeezes your breasts particularly hard. 

Your thighs meet in an attempt to soothe the aching between your legs. “I promise.”

“You promise?” He asks, his tone dripping with disbelief and mockery. 

“Yes! I promise.” You reply quickly, desperation seeping out of your words.

“On the bed.” he commands lowly and you comply without words.

The bed was thrice the size of the bed you used to sleep in, soft with satin sheets and numerous pillows. A bed that an emperor deserved. You weren't sure if you deserved it, yet here you were, lying on the Emperor's sheets like you did many other times.

He looms over your lying figure eyes rolling down every curve of your body like a wolf eyeing a little lamb. His favorite little lamb. 

The one that he never feasts upon but rather chases around until the poor thing is spent and exhausted and pliant for him to bite all he wants.

Geta’s hands find your ankles and he pulls you to him, earning a surprised yelp from you. He crawls to you, entrapping you between his arms once again.

He melts against your mouth, lips moving harshly against yours, refusing to give you a second to breathe. You cry loudly when his teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“My Emperor” you moan against his rough endeavors but he doesn’t stop, you aren’t sure if he even heard you. He was too busy squeezing your already bruising flesh, not even bothering to remove your tunic.

Red liquid escapes from the wound that Geta so eagerly opened. The metallic taste travels to your mouth but he doesn’t seem to mind, and as much as it scares you, neither do you. Instead, you claw at his back breathlessly repeating your words “My Emperor…Let me show you my devotion.”

Geta studies you, his big eyes making him look almost innocent under the dim candlelight.

His lips open to speak his mind, your spit and blood coating them but instead of speaking, he gently caresses your bottom lip with his thumb, smearing the blood.

What are these thoughts? These foolish ideas that plague his mind? His gaze couldn’t deter from your tearful eyes as he let his thumb run down your chin, the faint color of the blood following along.

You were so easy to break, to tear apart and carve as you pleased. He always did just that.

Yet you always came back.

You didn’t have a choice, he wasn’t foolish enough to forget that. But still, you looked at him with a particular dedication that Gate couldn’t quite comprehend. 

Basically, involuntarily he whispers, letting his palm rest on the side of your face “You’ve proven your devotion, corculum. You’ve been so good…” Geta leans closer, his nose pressing your cheek. He breathes in your scent, fighting the urge to squeeze your face with his fingers.

Your breath hitches when he pushes his thumb past your inviting lips and he feels a moan threaten to spill when you sucked on his digit immediately. He couldn’t uncover any thoughts behind your eyes, only lust. Lust for him. Just like he lusted you.

Why is his breath coming out so short, why is his heart threatening to jump from his chest and into your arms? He isn’t even inside you yet and he feels like he can’t think properly.

You weren’t quiet during your shared activities but Geta was always too focused on his own selfish pleasure, rarely caring about yours.

But right now he feels the inexplicable urge to make you scream his name, to make everyone in the palace know, everyone in Rome, the urge to get on his knees and worship you just to get the blessing of your sounds in return.

Oh, you were sent by Venus herself, there was no doubt. There was no other explanation for his crazed thoughts.

The whine that he brings from you when he pulls his hand away burns something deep in his chest. He quickly yanks at his clothes, uncovering his naked, toned body.

Your eyes don’t dare to travel down but you find yourself on your fours, crawling to him. You press your lips to his stomach, tracing his toned body with your lips and tongue softly, teasingly.

A low growl leaves Geta from deep within his throat as he runs his hand through your hair, nearly gently before he grips your locks. He pulls your head back forcing your eyes to meet his, the sudden harshness causing you to freeze.

“You are an enchantress, aren’t you? You have turned me into a madman.” He mutters softly, his tone almost despairing as his blunt nails massage your scalp.

Looking up at him through your lashes you blink, unsure of what to say. Was this an indictment? It sounded more like a statement.

“I wouldn’t do such a thing, my Emperor.” You say softly.

He hums quietly, eyes falling to your legs and he has to swallow hard.

He has seen you like this so many times, and yet you left him speechless every time. From the first time he had bed you, you had left him speechless. Put a spell on him the moment he pushed his cock inside your warm, dripping cunt.

His mind told him to pound you against the mattress as hard as he could, so that every time your core throbbed tomorrow you would remember how vile it was for you to imagine him, your Emperor, between your thighs.

But his body betrayed him. He leans in, his bottom lip grazing your inner thigh.

“I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me, mae columba” He whispers, so quietly that you could miss it if your senses weren’t so heightened.

He released a quivering breath before pressing his lips on your skin. You gasp at the action, gripping the smooth sheets. The feeling of your flushed skin against his lips was exhilarating, it was the beginning of something that he wasn’t sure he could control. 

Without a second thought, his mouth starts to bruise your thighs fervently, his teeth plunging into your flesh like you were his last meal before the guillotine.

Your moans and cries fill the room and Geta’s heart as he continues to mark your thighs, his intensity matching a starved wolf.

He wanted more. He was insatiable, he was always insatiable.

With a swift movement, he flips the both of you. You yelp in surprise, as you land on his chest, your legs spread apart. 

His head finds the soft mattress but he wouldn’t care even if it was the hard floor. All he could focus on was your clothed core, inches away from his face.

“My Emperor!” You begin. You weren’t sure what to say, how are you even supposed to react to such a scene?

Rome’s Emperor gazing at you between your thighs, looking as famished as ever.

“Quiet.” He growls, his arms coming to wrap around your thighs. His hands slowly travel up your body, dragging your tunic with his fingers revealing more of your skin.

Your naked cunt was inches away from his face, his breath hitting your soaked folds sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes couldn’t leave your core, mouth watering at the sight. Impatient, you peel off the dress, revealing your naked body.

It was a pattern whenever you were around him. But this time it didn’t make your cheeks burn about being so vulnerable before his ravenous gaze. On the contrary, it made your chest flutter with satisfaction as you lay on top of one of Rome’s brutal Emperors.

No warning was given to you before he harshly pulled you down to him. His tongue lays flat against your pussy, emitting a desperate sound from you. Soon enough he was lost in the feeling of your wetness.  There was no point in fighting your spell anymore, he was already hypnotized. 

Your eyes can’t leave his face. The way he loses himself so eagerly forces your breath to become shallow and desparate.

His tongue laps on your cunt sloppily, and your juices run down his chin though he never wavers, not even for a second. His mouth worked against your folds like he wanted to consume you whole, to drain you of your essence.

“Gods!” You moan loudly, throwing your head back. “My Emperor!” You cry out.

He whimpers against your pussy, he fucking whimpers. You aren’t sure if you can hold on much longer after that. It seems like any fear or shame you had abandoned your body because you start to rock your hips against his face, his nose brushing against clit with every move.

“I can’t take it anymore, my Emperor—” you gasp, your body trembling uncontrollably.

He grabs your waist, his nails digging into your skin possesively. He pulls you even closer to him, if that is even possible, his tongue running over your folds callously.

Your climax came to you like a violent wave, your body shakes violently after your release. Geta doesn’t stop though, his tongue collecting your fluids even if you jolted and whined.

He only stopped when he had nothing else to take. Like always.

You fall to the side, your mouth agape as you pant frenziedly. Geta isn’t looking any better, his slick-covered lips are parted slightly and his chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Gods…” You breathe out.

Geta finally finds his strength again, moving to position himself above you. His burning body pressed against your side, his lips brushing your temple. “Where the gods between your legs, corculum?”

“That’s what it felt like” You whisper and he fought the urge to smirk. 

“Turn around.” He orders lowly, the playfulness draining from his voice.

With all the strength left in you, you comply, turning around to lie on your chest. You gasp when the Emperor effortlessly lifts your thighs off the mattress. 

You whine at the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your dripping cunt. 

With one forceful push he’s inside your tight walls and you scream. Your nails rake at the satin sheets as he grunts at the warmness that envelops his cock. “You always feel so good, my dove. Like you were made for me” He groans, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

“P-perhaps I was” You moan, the sound muffled by the sheets, your eyes nearly rolling back.

He sneers lowly. “Always know just what to say. How to bewitch me with your words…”

You yelp when you feel his hand clutch your jaw and pull you backward. Your back slams against his hard chest. He draws his hips back making you whine at the feeling of his dick slipping away before slamming it back inside. He did it again and again until you were crying and clawing at his hand.

“My Emperor!” You cry out and if it wasn’t for his strong hands you would’ve fallen forward.

His cock hits you so deep, so good you can’t help the tears that run down your flushed cheeks and the lewd cries that fall from your lips still they aren’t nearly as lewd as the wet, sloppy sounds that follow after every intense thrust.

His own grunts are so loud against your ear that you swear you can come from the sounds he’s making alone. It was never this intimate with Geta, so close. He usually pushes your head against the pillows and fucks you into the mattress like an animal. You rarely see his face or hear his sounds other than the harsh words he spews at you.

Your back arches at the harshness of his thrusts, and your head falls on his shoulder. His hand slides down to your core. You feel his smirk against your ear when he flicks your clit and you flinch.

“Geta!” You scream his name as you come for a second time for the night, your voice hoarse from all the screaming.

If your brain wasn't mushed from pleasure you would slap a hand over your mouth, bracing yourself for his palm landing on your cheek.

He grabs your face and turns your head to face him. The moment your eyes meet you know there won’t be any repercussions for your defiance. His pupils are so blown to the point where you couldn’t locate the light brown of his iris. He pulls you for a heated kiss and with one last, mind-numbing thurst he spills his seed deep inside you.

He falls forward and pulls you with him. You fall on all your fours, his chest falling flush on your back. You whimper when his cock moves inside your overstimulated pussy with the movement.

Geta’s breath was hot against your shoulder and his hands squeezed your waist occasionally, seemingly without noticing.

“My Emperor,” You breathed out. “Forgiv—”

“Quiet.” He rasped, silencing you immediately.

He threw the both of you to the side, pulling you closer to him by the waist.

That day Geta, with his dick deep inside you, realized two things. That you have probably enchanted him and that he didn’t care one bit. 

Because if being bewitched meant that he would spend his living days between your legs, getting drunk on you, then he would gladly do it.