#I’m so impatient for their release you have no idea

[azeriadrawsstuff]

HAVEN’T DRAWN AN ILLUSTRATION IN FOREVER WE ARE SO BACK

Thought I’d post this before it stays in my wips folder as long if not longer than the Hissfits have been leaked

[aomiiine]

COME HOME? CUM HOME!

LIKE A ROMANCE TURNED EROTIC … husband farspace colonel!caleb & wife!reader. warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI (18+), pure filth ahead !! established relationship, fluff for like the first 3-4 paragraphs, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up b4 action irl), impatient caleb lol, creampie, breeding, teasing, uhh daddy kink, degradation (he calls u a slut), petnames: pip-squeak(once!!!), baby, honey, princess, brat, not proofread wordcount. 1.9k (small smth for caleb’s release!! a bit rushed) taglist. @jellysix

𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑺 from service after nearly a year, caleb is more than eager to reacquaint himself with his wife’s body.

22nd January. Today. It was the day your beloved husband finally returned from service as the Farspace Colonel. You stayed up all day, all night since the day before, restless and worried of your husband’s well being. Sure, news hasn’t said much about the farspace dealings but being a Space Hunter, you heard a thing or two from work.

“Honey? I’m back— uumph!”

you raised from the couch the moment you heard keys jingling from outside your front door, reaching Caleb as soon as he opened the door to take a step inside. Your arms circled his torso beneath his arms, nearly tackling him with your jump which he caught with ease, tossing his bag to the side on the floor carelessly.

“Hello to you too, my little brat,” Caleb giggled, lifting you up from the ground in his arms with a little twirl. He buried his face into the top of your head, hair tickling his nose as he inhaled your scent deeply, taking the unique scent of yours—the scent of home.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea,” he gushed, lips against your hair with his gloved hand cradling the back of your head, tucking you deep under his chin. “Then you’re can’t imagine how much I missed you,” you mumbled against the firm plane of his chest, his uniform warm against the warm curves of your body pressed against his perfectly like puzzle pieces complementing each other. “Dramatic as always,” he chuckled warmly.

wholesome reunion, right? Caleb indulged himself in you, catching up to all the days he missed out in your life. He stayed patient, listening like a good husband all the while he kept the cruel side of him that clawed at his skin to pounce and ravage you. Caleb knew he couldn’t. Not now, at least. So bit his tongue, curled his fingers to a fist so tight, you could hear the faint strain of leather.

“Sweetheart.. so much has happened since I left. I missed out on so much, baby, don’t you think it’s time to make up for lost time?” He finally spoke his mind after the hums and replies of acknowledgement at your joyful gushing, the sight of you so happy to see him igniting a certain desire both innocent and not inside him.

you quirked a brow at him, small smile on your face along at his words. You were glad he wanted to make up for lost time, but now?

“Right now? Sure, I suppose. If you have an idea how,” you shrugged with acceptance, nodding as you shifted yourself on the couch to face him better. And in the split second your eyes met his face, you could’ve sworn you saw the edge of his lips curled to a smirk.

“Oh, I do have ideas.. So many of them.” Caleb’s hand on your waist squeezed the flesh there lightly before pulling you closer to him, other hand moving to tilt your head up with a finger beneath your chin. In that moment, your eyes blinked wildly, throat dry and lips parted invitingly for his lips to capture yours. And they did, securely so. His tongue plundered deep into the warm cavern of your mouth, slanting and sweeping his tongue over yours.

“Shouldn’t take it lightly when I say I miss you, pip-squeak,” caleb murmured once he broke the kiss, hand previously beneath your chin now holding your face, long slender fingers sliding up your jaw until they raked through your hair.

His other hand wandering your body made you gasp, cold leather fingers sneaking beneath the hem of your shirt to skim through the surface of your belly. He wasn’t shy with his exploration, making his way to cup the soft mound of your breast until it filled his palm.

“Fuck, these curves, these pretty tits that are just begging for their daddy’s touch, yeah?” Your husband seemed in awe as he reacquainted himself with your body, kneading the flesh of your breast through the confines of your bra, all until he tugged it down to spill you bare to his hand. Every tug and pinch of pebbled nipple sent jolts of desire straight to your core, your back arching into him involuntarily, much to his pleasure.

“C-Caleb, maybe we should head into the bedroom— ack!” Your efforts to reason with him was interrupted with a firm yet gentle shove on your shoulder, his larger frame hovering over yours that was laid on the couch. “Bedroom, living room, what difference does it make? We’re alone regardless,” he replied with a sly smirk, pushing your shirt up to your chin, exposing your bare midriff and tampered bra.

“Besides, your legs are welcoming me so wholeheartedly.. Is it force of habit?” Caleb taunted, free hand taking off his hat to toss to on the coffee table beside them. His other hand wrapped around the curve of your thigh, nestling himself between them as your legs locked around his waist securely.

“Must’ve fucked you so good before I left. Trained you just for this moment, didn’t I?” He drawled, free hand resting flat on your pelvis, the cold metal band on his ring fingers tracing idle circles on your skin sending goosebumps to your body. You whimpered his name, unsure exactly to ask from him all the while you squirmed beneath his touch.

“Baby, please,” you pleaded breathlessly, eyes flickering down to his hand flat on your lower belly, fingers dangerously low to your core. His hand went back up to hook a finger under the waistband of your pants, tugging down to your knees, pulling up and off your legs. All that was left was your panties, the a wet spot slowly blooming on the fabric.

“Please, what? Be more specific.. I only take clear orders, after all,” your husband chuckled lowly, leaning down closer to you, hips nestling closer to yours just enough to let you feel the bulge of his cock growing with every passing moment.

“Please what?” He repeated by your ear hotly, knowing exactly he was doing by teasing you like this.

you on the other hand, was torn between your pride and need for him. You didn’t like the thought he could see how much affected you with his absence, and return. This was surely be material for him to tease you for later on. But at the moment, you could care. You needed him to calm the raging desire in your heat, desperately.

”please.. fuck me,” you whispered, brows furrowed as you relented to his advances, eyes fixated on the sight of his hips grinding with shallow thrusts into you, the ridge of his cock straining in the confines of his pants painfully evident against the soft folds of your panty clad pussy.

The colonel smirked beside your ear, leaning away just enough to look at your face, drinking in the lust dazed expression you had on right now.

“Good girl,” he purred, grabbing each of your thighs up all of the sudden, lifting your legs up and pushing them up to your chest. He release one leg of yours to unbuckle his own belt with ease, unzipping his fly and tugging his pants down with his boxers to let his throbbing cock breath. He hissed at the cold air, stroking himself with a fist lazily before leaning down to align his tip over your clothed folds, pulling the fabric aside. A soft moan escaped your lips at the direct contact, his hips nudging forward to pierce through your slick entrance.

“So fucking tight, perfect pussy remembers me, baby..,” caleb rambled, slowly burying his girth deeper into your warm heat that welcomed the intrusion, fluttering around his shaft with each move he made. He proceeded to lift your legs up to hang over his shoulder, the narrow space between your calves allowing him a view of your sprawled on the couch, hair sprawled on the velvet cushion, features scrunched into a face of unadulterated pleasure. But nothing turned him on more than the sight of your tits bouncing back and forth in time with his thrusts, your voice raising in volume each time he got deeper in your depths—rearranging your guts with frantic jerks of his hips.

“Come on, cum for me.. Welcome me back with a biiig, wet mess, baby,” caleb coaxed, hugging your legs to his body with both arms, fucking in and out of your drenched cunt with ruthless abandon. His hips were unforgiving, drunk in the feeling of your pussy sucking and wringing him dry for he was worth. It took you all the focus and energy you could muster to keep yourself stable on the narrow surface of the couch, holding on tight to the headrest you clung onto.

“Caleb, ngh— too fast, too fast!” You slurred, your husband’s bulbous cockhead bullying the spongy spot that he knew by heart, beyond eager to make you explode on his cock. “What was— shit— that? Too slow?” Caleb teased between pants, grinning at the tight spasms of your velvety walls, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. And he was determined to make you reach it first.

his name fell from your lips repeatedly like a mantra, nails burying into the cushion of the couch’s headrest with the fabric threatening to break—like how the coil in your belly threatened to snap. Caleb’s cock plunging into your core was reckless still, especially so now that you were on the brink of climaxing. So in a final effort, Caleb sheathed himself inside you to the hilt, settling on shallow thrusts and grinds on your clit. Much to his pleasure, the change of pace finally made you cum, your juices coming out in a spray on his cock and his pelvis, the pressure only urging him to start moving again—harder this time.

“That’s my wife, cumming all over me like a dirty slut, hm? Don’t worry, princess, I’ll be joining you aah— soo enough,” he groaned, arms binding your shivering legs tighter as he fucked into your pussy like a man deprived of any sorts of physical touch—and in a way, he way. He went on too long without you, he had to melt himself in your sopping cunt again.

“Yesyesyesyes, agh— fuck!” Caleb groaned loud, a deep guttural moan coming from his chest without his control when he felt his balls draw up tight, cock heavy and throbbing as jet after jet of semen was pumped into your womb. His hips didn’t dare to stop plummeting into your vice-like channel until he was sure that his seed would take root, that you would be swollen with his child after a month or two.

Well, he would need a good reason to stay by your side after that long, torturous, mission.

[kurooh]

DOUBLE FANTASY ★ JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring threesomes with gojo satoru + geto suguru, nanami kento + higuruma hiromi, shiu kong + fushiguro toji, tsukumo yuki + kamo choso.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, threesomes, oral [m&f rec], spit roasting, double penetration, some degradation, choking, rough sex, squirting, sharing a cigarette, spit, clit slaps. | 4.5K words of FILTH

xoxo, juno. comment & rb if you enjoyed <3 !

GOJO & GETO.

perhaps letting your two roommates take care of you after a messy breakup wasn’t a good idea—or is it? less than an hour ago, you’d come home sobbing, cheeks wet with tears and eyes puffy.

satoru and suguru had pulled you into a tight hug, internally thankful you’d broken things off with that asshole (they’d hated when he would come around) but also sympathetic towards you. it was a tough choice, which was then promptly celebrated over margaritas and shots on the couch. one thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were pressed flush against suguru’s strong chest, body sweltering with need hotter than a fire.

“s-sugu, i don’t think you can both fit inside.”

“not with that attitude, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, hands settling on your hips as he places a small kiss to your cheek. “come now, anything’s possible if you believe in it.”

“bleh, you sound like confucius,” satoru fake gags dramatically, lining his cock up with his best friend’s. their sticky tips prod at your folds, and your heart races faster, rattling around in your ribcage so loudly you can hear it in your ears. although you’re a little nervous, the alcohol you’ve had helps to take the edge away; you impatiently wiggle your hips forward.

“i’m sorry . . ? do you even know who confucius is?” suguru asks incredulously, flicking his bangs to the side with a jerk of his head.

“i’ve seen you read enough of—”

“don’t do this right now,” you plead, voice whiny. “just fuck me already.”

“now, honey. you’ll have plenty of time to slut yourself out for us, don��t you worry.”

“nah, she’s right,” satoru quips, wrapping his hand around their cocks. suguru inhales sharply, unintentionally jerking his hips forward for more. “you ready for us, babe?”

you nod weakly, and the three of you moan in unison as satoru pushes their cocks inside you. it’s slow at first, but the stretch is one that you’ll remember for a lifetime—the burn of being split open on two cocks melts into something euphoric as each inch passes your entrance. satoru groans hungrily, his head falling back. snowy tufts of hair obscure his diamond blue eyes that he tightly squeezes shut, and a huff of breath leaves his lips.

suguru kisses your jaw, fingers trailing along the slopes of your body before finally sweeping over the delicate skin of your throat. you breath hitches when he whispers into your ear: “we’d always hear you begging to be choked harder. don’t you remember that, satoru?”

“hngh, yeah,” he swallows hard at the memory—he and his best friend always heard everything through those paper thin walls. they’d heard your dissatisfaction and vowed to satiate you someday. “and you’d always be going deeper, deeper!”

your cheeks burn with embarrassment. had your roommates really heard everything? how did they face you so easily in the morning after being kept awake each night?

“we’ll give you everything, sweetheart.”

suguru squeezes your throat experimentally, and the corners of his lips lift when you release a moan you’d been holding back for far too long. he and his best friend slowly start to move, rocking their hips into you and developing a smooth tempo.

“both of you are so fucking big,” you mewl, back bowing off of suguru’s chest. they’re filling you up and stretching you out and just as you think it can’t get any better, satoru’s nimble fingers wander to your clit. he curiously toys with it, eyes darkening lustfully once you react how he’d been hoping you would.

“perfect size just for you,” suguru coos, yanking you down by the throat. “satoru, spank her a little.”

he obliges, reading his best friend’s mind easily—a stinging slap lands on your clit, sending prickling shocks of pleasure through your body. the tips of their cocks kiss your cervix, pushing so deep you can’t seem to breathe. satoru gifts your swollen, sensitive clit with slap after slap; the force behind each one only increases until you’re crying freely.

but you’re not begging him to stop, you’re begging him for more.

“god, i always knew you were a fucking slut,” satoru chokes out, pausing to lick some of your slick off his palm. your stomach flips around at the simple action, something hot flashing through you when he closes his eyes momentarily and savors the taste. “finally . . got you to myself.”

then he looks at suguru, who rolls his eyes. “well, for the most part.”

“no need to sound so excited,” he deadpans, huffing beneath you. “as if you’d fuck any better than that damn ex boyfriend.”

satoru scoffs in disbelief, slapping your clit with renewed strength. his hips are still moving, still burying his cock and suguru’s inside you deeper. they’ve got you entirely stuffed—maybe this would be better than some turkey on thanksgiving. your clit throbs with each punishing slap, but your eyes still roll back each time. while they bicker, your oxygen deprived brain spins with arousal and tipsiness. you shudder, going still and barely even managing to warn them of what’s about to happen.

“fuck, i’m gonna—‘m cumming,” you sob, sounding fragile just before you’re about to break. flashes of heat chase their way through you, until they finally explode out of you, in the form of a soaking orgasm. out of patterned habit, satoru’s palm smacks your puffy clit, which only prolongs your intoxicating high further. the intense contractions inadvertently push their cocks a few inches out of you, and your cum splashes on their skin, eliciting pleased groans from them both.

“baby, did you just—”

“she did, satoru,” suguru confirms, biting back a moan.

“i don’t even—i don’t know what happened,” you pant, hissing when someone’s tip bumps against your twitching clit.

“‘s called squirting,” satoru supplies, entranced as he stares at your messy cunt. a mixture of slick and cum coats your inner thighs, and he can’t help but swipe a finger across your skin and then stick it into his mouth. he releases it with a pop, and eyes suguru knowingly.

his voice is now raspy, thick with desire. “let’s make it happen again, sweetheart. we can take turns, of course. but my face comes before satoru’s.”

NANAMI & HIGURUMA.

the smooth oak wood surface of higuruma’s desk is littered with papers hastily swept to the side, and the fabric of your skirt fans out over a few of them. pens and other stationary supplies are forgotten on the floor, along with your now wrinkled blouse.

“h-holy shit—‘romi, right there! just like that.”

“one can only hope that this’ll be enough luck to carry us through the trial,” higuruma grunts, nails digging crescent shaped indents into the fat of your ass. he’s gripping you tightly, chest heaving rapidly as he vigorously fucks his cock deeper.

“ah, hiromi,” nanami huffs, pushing a few stray hairs away from his forehead. they’d escaped their neatly gelled place on his head when the three of you had rushed into higuruma’s office to discuss the final procedures before your trial. “don’t be a downer . . . this is more than lucky. we’ll win, of course.”

you sob, clawing at higuruma’s shoulders. he’d discarded his suit jacket long ago, carefully folded it on one of his bookshelves so as not to ruin the cuffs and smoothness of the fabric. now, he’s rolled the sleeves of his white shirt all the way up to his elbows, and his loosened black tie swings in your face with each of his thrusts.

“wait, hiromi,” your clammy hand pushes against his stomach insistently, “s-slow down, it’s too much, i—”

higuruma looks toward nanami for instruction, and the latter simply pauses stroking his cock. he stands, pushing back the spinning chair he’d been sitting on, and steps toward the edge of the desk. a sheen of sweat covers your forehead and disrupts the smoothness of your makeup, but nanami doesn’t take much pity on you—instead, he lightly slaps your cheek.

“need me to show you too much, angel?” his voice is low and dark, words laced with a throaty rasp that has your pussy squeezing higuruma’s cock. nanami’s eyebrow raises as he pushes your thighs apart to take a look at the mess between them.

“seems to me like she wants you to,” higuruma nods toward your pussy, then loosens his tie and collar further. “after my turn, of course.”

nanami grunts in agreement, settling on the edge of the desk beside your head instead of the chair. the desk creaks weakly from the newly added weight, and for a moment the idea of it collapsing beneath the three of you crosses your mind. higuruma snaps his hips forward, unconsciously licking the sweat away from his upper lip when he starts up.

your hand lamely pushes against his stomach again, but he shakes his head and nanami reacts immediately, intertwining his fingers with yours and slamming your hand down on the wood. whimpers leave your lips and the air is punched out of your lungs with each of higuruma’s strong thrusts; he’s so deep you can practically feel him in your chest.

“ken, i need—my clit,” you gasp, back bowing off the desk fruitlessly. your hips twist and jerk away from higuruma’s cock, for fear of being split open. “touch my clit, i need to cum—”

nanami slaps your cheek again, and your eyes roll back at the penalizing sting. “hiromi, you hear that? she wants to cum.” he mocks your words, then turns back to you, hazel eyes burning holes into your own. “and how do good girls ask to cum, baby? certainly not the way you just did.”

“‘m sorry,” you mewl, and higuruma slaps your clit and makes you shudder. “p-please, i wanna cum for you—i’ve been a good girl!”

“hm, hiromi? you think she’s been a good girl?”

you look up at higuruma pleadingly, tears gathered in your lashes and sparkling in the light. you’ve got that blissed out and dumb look on your face, completely at peace with being thrown around and shared between them.

“sluts take it,” he groans, teeth sinking into his lower lip hard. he yanks your body closer, further bullying his cock inside you. “‘nd you’ve been running from me—isn’t that right, babygirl?”

nanami clicks his tongue, and pinches one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he looks down at you nicely, cheeks pink and hair mussed.

“maybe i’ll let you cum when it’s my turn,” he huffs, a small smile playing on his lips when you weakly moan his name as if he’ll give you permission. “for now, you’ll have to beg. now, go on and open wide, baby.”

the moment your lips part, nanami spits onto your tongue; he watches you expectantly and nodding in acceptance when you swallow, drunk on the taste of his peppermint gum.

“that’s right,” higuruma backs him up, looking down his nose at you expectantly. “speak now or forever hold your orgasm, sweetheart.”

TOJI & SHIU.

“so, princess, still up for lunch later?” shiu grunts around a chuckle, passing the lit cigarette to toji. the latter accepts it with a scoff, rolling his jade green eyes as he sticks it between his lips.

“yes,” you and toji answer at the same time, but your voice is muffled on shiu’s cock.

toji gifts your ass with a slap and exhales the smoke, handing the cigarette back to shiu with a glare. his once stagnant hips begin to move again, almost as if he’s rejuvenated from his little smoke break. shiu only laughs, cupping the crown of your head in order to ease his cock further down your throat.

“i’m surprised you’ve got the money for that, toji,” shiu teases, exhaling sharply when the tip of his cock bumps into your uvula and makes you gag. your throat constricts around his length and you let out a muffled whine in reaction to the stretch.

“you crazy or sum’n?” toji snaps, choosing to argue with his best friend while he’s balls deep inside you. his harsh thrusts make your pussy squelch, and shiu’s cum from earlier spills out onto the bedsheets below. “of course i’ve got the fuckin’ money for lunch, but you’re gonna be the one paying, dumbass.”

his fingers find your swollen clit and he pinches it, making you gasp around shiu’s cock. you choke, gagging so hard tears pool in your eyes—shiu strokes your head comfortingly as you pull off his cock, coughing hard.

“you okay, babygirl?” and he looks at toji disapprovingly, but he only continues to fuck you. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix lightly with each thrust, and when he feels like he’s not going deep enough, he lifts your hips to pull you back. “toji, that was mean.”

“mean . . ? shiu, my girl can fuckin’ handle it. ain’t that right, baby?” he looks to you for confirmation, quirking a brow while the scarred corner of his lip curves into a smirk.

this whole mess had started when you’d spent a night in with toji, watching movies and taking shots every now and then. you’d gotten drunk, swaying on your feet and giggling as you’d pointed to the tv screen dazedly.

“oh, toji, look! that guy looks like shiu!”

he could see the resemblance, and grunted, “damn, he does. ugly just like him too.”

“shiu isn’t ugly!” you jumped up drunkenly to defend his best friend’s appearance, waving your arms around dramatically. “he’s very good looking, actually.”

“oh, really? he doesn’t have any muscle, though.”

“toji, don’t be silly,” you laughed at your boyfriend, “‘course he does, it’s just under all those clothes of his. if he took ‘em off, you’d know what i mean!”

“so you got a crush on shiu?” toji asked in disbelief, his cheeks flaring a deeper pink as he took another vodka shot. “aw, i should let him know.”

one thing led to another, and shiu had come over for breakfast. then your little crush had gotten out, and a bet was placed—who could fuck you better? the condition for the loser was then set in place: whoever lost would buy lunch for the three of you without question.

“y-yeah, toji,” you mumble, forehead pressing into shiu’s pelvis weakly. he’d been the first to fuck you, and now it’s toji’s turn with your pussy—you’re sure you won’t walk smoothly ever again.

“can’t hear you,” toji taunts, lifting your hips and yanking you back onto his cock. the new angle forces him deeper, stretching your cunt out even further. “wanna repeat that for me, doll?”

“ngh, f-fuck,” you moan, eyes rolling back. his cock slams into that sweet, sensitive spot that’s deep inside you, and the tears that had been building in your eyes finally pour down your cheeks. the mascara and eye makeup you’d worn for the breakfast smears against shiu’s skin and makes messy tracks down your face. he curiously slips a finger beneath your chin to make you look up at him.

“aw, baby. i really can’t wait to hear who fucked you better . . . my back certainly wasn’t cracking as much as his is.”

“shut it, shiu,” toji groans, savoring the broken moans that freely leave your lips—gasping ah’s and whines that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. “hand me the fuckin’ cig.”

shiu obliges, chuckling softly when he notices you pawing around his thighs in search of his cock. you whimper when you finally get his tip back in your mouth (with his guidance), slowly taking him in inch by inch. he groans, tossing his head back when he finally bumps into the back of your throat.

“m-mind if i fuck your mouth, doll face?” he asks, thighs twitching expectantly. a vein in toji’s forehead bulges at the way he steals his pet name for you.

you shake your head shyly, blinking slowly while toji fucks every single thought out of your head. he’s deliberately holding himself back so you’ll go dumb on his cock, unable to scream anything but his name. yes, this is how he’ll show shiu who can fuck—show him that you’re his girl, his doll face.

tendrils of smoke waft over your break before dissipating in the air as if they were never there. you shudder as toji’s fingers reach your clit, rubbing sloppy circles on the sensitive nub even though your hips rear away. you still haven’t recovered from the overstimulation shiu caused with both his tongue and fingers, but that’s okay. he’ll have you cumming on his cock regardless.

with a deep groan, shiu cups the back of your head to keep you steady, and he shoves his hips forward, his cock slamming far down your throat. you gag, but he’s merciless—doesn’t give you more than a second to breathe before he’s at it again, setting a brutal pace that matches toji’s.

“ugh, fuck—want ya to cum on this cock for me, doll,” he groans, starting to slap his fingers against your clit. your legs kick out in reaction, and you hump your hips back against his hand. toji’s fucked you so hard you can’t even feel shiu’s cum dripping out of you anymore; he’s seconds away from replacing it with his own thick load and having you hold it inside you during lunch.

you nod dumbly on shiu’s cock, starting to sob louder as your own orgasm hurtles toward you. the high is absolutely inescapable, and your watery eyes meet shiu’s when you tip your head up. to the best of his abilities, he’s sweetly talking you through it, his words jumbled although you manage to hear a few clearly.

“how ‘bout we all cum together?” he suggests, wiping a stray tear from your face with the pad of his thumb as if he wasn’t the one that caused it.

“whatever, just as long she does first,” toji warns, his husky voice carrying a tenderness that only you can hear. “got that, shiu?”

like a cheshire cat, he smiles in response, sticking the worn down cigarette between his lips. he takes a drag and thrusts as deeply as he can go before holding your head down at his pelvis. you can hear his quiet moan beneath the clapping of skin against skin and all the other noise; his cock shoots ribbons of white down your throat and he shudders when you swallow it all eagerly, looking up at him for more.

toji throbs against your cervix, and he grabs your asscheek in one of his hands to tug and slap at. “‘m gonna cum, shit . . . wouldn’t ever wanna cum outside of this pretty pussy.”

his fingers work your clit until you’re arching your back and crying out, gushing on toji’s cock with no end in sight. wetness sprays against his pelvis and abs, and he groans, fucking you through it.

“such a mess, doll,” he groans, slipping a hand around your throat and pulling you off shiu’s cock. he instead pins you against his muscular chest, looking over your shoulder through hooded eyes at shiu, who hasn’t gone soft yet. “fuckin’ love it, though.”

toji places a few wet kisses to your neck, moving close to your ear. “so, doll face? where’s lunch gonna be? shiu’s treat, of course.”

YUKI & CHOSO.

“c’mon, you don’t really plan to just sit and watch us, do you?” yuki pushes her blonde bangs away from her forehead with an enchanting smile playing on her lips. she playfully tilts her head to the side, eyeing choso and his seated form.

“well, i . . . you said you’d teach me,” he offers lamely, his reddened cheeks only darkening. he catches your eyes on him too and awkwardly crosses his legs, trying to hide the tent in his pants.

when you’d finally had enough of your boyfriend’s ineducable inexperience, you’d decided to bite the bullet and ask your best friend. yuki had been receptive from the start, her eyes gleaming while you’d explained the situation to a willing choso.

“oh, you won’t learn anything from over there,” she laughs, waving him over to the empty space beside her on the bed. “y’know, sex is pretty hands on.”

choso settles beside her, and the bedframe creaks as it accommodates the new weight. his fingers are trembling as they brush over the tender skin of your inner thighs, and his eyes widen when they come close to your dripping pussy. slick is smeared all over your skin and shining in the low light, utterly enticing to the both of them.

yuki spreads your legs further, and you draw in a sharp breath, lower lip slipping between your teeth.

“come closer,” she coos, pointing at your clit with a smirk. “that’s her clit . . . ‘s the secret to the female orgasm, choso. go on, give her a lick.”

without question, choso adjusts himself so he’s on his stomach, and he experimentally licks your clit. his silky tongue is flexed and nervous, dipping down further to taste the wetness trickling from your slit.

“f-fuck, choso,” you cry, insides lurching deliciously at the feeling. one look at yuki—her cheeks are colored pink, tongue unconsciously darting out occasionally to sweep over her lower lip—and another at choso, whose movements are gradually becoming more insistent, has a sweltering heat coiling deep in your stomach.

your hips jerk forward, pelvic bone nearly nailing him in the bridge of his nose, and choso’s head rears back in concern. “‘m sorry, are you—”

“our girl’s loving it,” yuki hisses, not even missing a beat as she cups the crown of his head, manicured nails digging into your boyfriend’s scalp as she forces his head back down. he doesn’t resist, letting out a muffled moan when his face lands directly in your pussy. slick smears across the lower half of his face and he feels the saliva pool on his tongue from how hungry he is.

choso’s nose bumps into your swollen clit, and a pitched whine tears from your throat. “need—i need more, please,” yuki settles onto her stomach beside choso, palm leaving his head. her fingers impatiently push past his chin, stroking lightly against your dripping pussy, and she quietly moans in delight.

you watch slack jawed as yuki pushes her fingers into her mouth, and her eyes squeeze shut. her hips grind against the bed, sheets rustling softly beneath her body. choso’s too caught up to notice, dark strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“cho—ah, shit—use your fingers, baby.”

your boyfriend obliges obediently, carefully pushing his fingers inside you and tugging back to let yuki take over with her mouth.

that heat inside you ignites into an inferno the second her mouth finds your clit. her lips lightly wrap around it and her tongue sweeps over the swollen bud; to tease you a little further, she lets her teeth occasionally nibble at it.

“this what you wanted?” choso pants, voice lilting curiously as his eyes rake over your body. he’s always been rather shameless when it comes to looking you over, but after this, he’ll finally be able to back it up with a hundred percent. the heave of your chest and parting of your bitten lips is enough of an answer, but he wants to hear it from you. his fingers curl inside you, pressing into a spot that scratches the unbearable itch in your brain perfectly.

“y-yes, cho!” and you’ve got stars in your eyes, feeling an unfamiliar pressure straining in your lower abdomen. “wanna—wanna cum on your face, please.”

“you heard her,” yuki quirks a brow, thumb working your clit in place of her tongue. she’s got a wildness in her eyes, with the lower half of her face sticky like choso’s. “let’s make our pretty girl cum together, hm?”

choso flushes all the way to his neck but nods, his two fingers pushing deeply over and over. a small sting accommodates the stretch, but is quickly forgotten when their faces push against one another’s in their rush for a taste. your slick is sweet like ambrosia, and they’re far too greedy to take turns with your cunt.

your clammy fingers push into yuki’s flowing tresses, while your other hand cups the crown of choso’s head and pushes him impossibly closer. her moans are softer than his as she finds your clit again, licking desperately, almost as if she’s begging you to cum.

meanwhile, choso places a hand above your pelvic bone, palm pressing into the soft skin—you’d mentioned that fingering wasn’t fingering without that small detail and he hasn’t forgotten it since—and it’s becoming difficult to breathe without panting. whiny moans fill the spaces in between your babbled words of bliss, and yuki knows that she won’t be able to get enough of you once this is over.

“ooh, fuck,” you sob, nearly choking on your words when your back uncontrollably arches off the bed. your fingers tighten in her hair and your nails scratch against choso’s scalp, making a mess of his once neatly tied buns. “yuki, ‘m so close, can’t hold it—”

she’d known what had been coming the moment you’d asked for choso’s fingers. she’s unable to stop herself from smiling against your clit, and choso’s tongue bumps into her own as he fights for a piece of you too. he’d initially been all for this so he could learn how to make you tick, what you really meant when you’d beg for his mouth.

his skin is hot as it pushes against hers, their cheeks puffing up a little as they fight for dominance over your clit. they’re shaking their heads all too much, and choso’s grunting while yuki does too, sending vibrations through your already sensitive clit. that pressure burns through your body, and your legs begin to tremble on either side of them as it grows more intense.

“hmph—cum for us, pretty girl.”

similarly, choso tugs away for a moment and lets out a huff, pressing down hard while his fingertips push into your sweet spot, “let us taste it, baby.”

their simple words do the trick, and with a gasp, your pussy begins to gush waterfalls right onto their faces. yuki eagerly slurps up the slick and cum from your cunt, with no regard for the way it’s still fluttering sensitively. choso barely gets a taste, only getting the tip of his tongue wet, and he pulls back with an annoyed scoff.

“yuki, that’s—”

“y-yuki!” you interrupt, voice breaking as you pathetically try to writhe away from her. with choso sitting back, she’s able to grab you by the hips and drag you close, insistently licking you through the dizzying high. “‘s too much, wait—choso!”

“yuki,” he scolds with a shake of his head, but makes no move to pull her away. honestly, if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to. “that’s no fair, i didn’t even get a taste. and she’s my girl.” choso’s words are pointed and a little whiny, and yuki just rolls her eyes.

“then come here ‘n try again. just look at her, she’s dying for more . . aren’t ya, pretty?”

[mattluvr]

⋆·˚ ༘ * a pure smut matt sturniolo oneshot !

( dad!dom!matt with a raging breeding kink, oral — f!receiving, edging, dirty talk, praise )

matt wants another baby.

you do not. even if the sex to conceive your daughter had been some of the best you two had ever had, the dirty words matt had uttered that night still engraved into your brain, you’re adamant that you don’t want another child.

your daughter, now two years old and goddamn adorable, wreaks havoc at every opportunity, despite her angelic appearance; your brunette ringlets and matt’s bright blue eyes she’s inherited are a mere deception.

so often, when you and matt clamber into bed after a long day trying to prevent your kid from seriously injuring herself, you’re too tired to even entertain the idea of sex, let alone trying for another baby.

but today is your fifth anniversary with your boyfriend, whose insanely annoying charm has managed to change your perspective on a second pregnancy in the space of a romantic dinner at an italian restaurant.

so now you’re laid on your bed, spread eagled as matt kisses the burning flesh of your collarbones, your dress unzipped and being rolled down teasingly slowly. you moan into the thick air as one of his hands comes down to tweak your nipple through the flimsy material of the lingerie set you’d specially chosen; blue, his favourite colour.

“shit, matt.” you mumble, arching your back into his touch with a low moan. “makin’ me feel so good.”

“that right?” matt smirks, pinching your nipple harder to push your stimulation. you whine in response, stretching your neck to the side to invite matt to make more marks, not having to restrict the sounds pouring out of your mouth.

on the rare occasion that the pair of you share moments of intimacy, it’s rushed and usually restricted to mutual masturbation to reduce the risk of your daughter walking in and being scarred for life. but she’s staying with uncle chris and uncle nick, who are most likely feeding her way too much ice cream past her bedtime, so you don’t have to worry about anybody walking in.

“so fucking good.”

matt smiles, pleased with himself, and hungrily removes your dress completely, practically drooling at the full lingerie set reveal. he works quickly to pull the straps of your bra down, hands reaching round the back of you to undo the clasp, the tips of his fingers calloused but gentle. then, matt works on your panties, trimmed with baby blue lace, pulling them down, the material tickling your skin.

you buck your hips up as all three pieces of material float to the foot of the bed, starting to become impatient. you crave matt’s dick inside you, core pulsating as your boyfriend begins to move away from your chest, pressing kisses along your stomach until his mouth is level with your heat.

he doesn’t wait a second; lips are latched onto your clit before you have a chance to register what’s going on, a loud whine erupting from your throat as you let your head fall back on the pillow behind you. matt hasn’t eaten you out in months, and you’ve forgotten how talented he can be with his tongue.

as soon he latches onto your swollen clit, oozing arousal, you start to feel the familiar pit of longing form at the bottom of your stomach, close to release already. embarrassing; you must’ve been overly sensitive, making you easy to push to the edge, matt’s harsh kitten licks over your pulsing bud not helping matters.

your boyfriend picks up the pace of his ministrations against your bundle of nerves, gripping your thighs tighter as you begin to shake, on the verge of releasing. “matt,” you warn, whimpers spilling past your lips. “i’m close.”

“already?” his degrading tone and the laughter that follows only heightens your embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. immediately, matt is jumping to remove them, one hand lingering to grip your jaw. he sighs before diving back in, his next words muffled. “fine, just make it a good one.”

but as soon as he gives you permission, your orgasm right fucking there, matt pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“matt!” you cry out, using your thigh to hit his head, mouth wide open in disbelief. “i can’t believe you just did that.”

“don’t talk back to me.” he hisses, the hand that was still loosely on your jaw now squeezing your lips shut. you rarely see the dominant side of him this extreme, glad that he’s restricting your words in your state of speechless.

“you can cum once i’ve fucked this second baby into you. no complaints.”

and then he starts thrusting into you, roughly and relentlessly; you hadn’t even noticed him slip his lower garments off, pushing his way inside you, suddenly aware of how he fills you up and the pleasure you’re receiving from his length and girth.

you moan, legs instinctively widening, the sensitivity of being edged mere seconds before still raging, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap. matt is also getting sloppy, his thrusts weak as he struggles to restrain his release. he still has his hand pressed firmly against your jaw, muffling all your noises as you edge close to your orgasm.

“fu-uck.” matt’s breath hitches, his eyes trained on you as he pumps in and out; he already looks fucked out, his hair sticking to his forehead. “you gonna let me make you pregnant again? huh?”

you nod, eyebrows drawing together, the pleasure overbearing. you need to cum and you need cum now. matt is still whispering dirty things in your ear is he hovers over you, the boy’s legs shaking yours. “i’m gonna cum soon, baby, okay? you’re not gonna let a drop out.”

you nod again, your whole body tensing in your effort to hold back your orgasm. you’re willing matt to hurry up, silently due to matt’s continued clamped hand, the bed creaking mercilessly.

“oh, right there.” matt groans, his orgasm now on the edge too; you can feel it in his body movements. “god, sweetheart, i’m gonna…”

he trails off, head thrown back, hand dropping from your chin as he braces himself on either side of you. “cum!”

and he does, messily but in strong waves, painting your insides white with guttural moans. and, with your mouth finally freed, you’re able to orgasm as loud as you want, your body shaking as your high rolls over you.

once you’ve both come down from your shared peaks, matt pulls out of you, using his index finger to push the cum that trailed out after him back up into you; he evidently wants that second baby more than anything, and whilst you’re exhausted looking after one, there’s nobody you’d rather have multiple kids with than the boy now collapsed by your side, panting.

in your tangle of bare skin, you caress your boyfriend’s cheek, your words a soft whisper. “i’m excited now.”

“for what?” matt raises a quizzical eyebrow, placing the hand that had been gripping your jaw roughly minutes before over yours.

“for our daughter to have a sibling, duh. if we’re not pregnant after that, then i want a refund.”

and matt’s smile in response could’ve lit up a million stars.

[dykeriver]

⠀ ⠀ holy. ⟨ ellie w. ⟩

⠀ ⠀ ⠀❝ honey on your knees when you look at me,

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ i’m dressed like a fucking queen,

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ and you’re begging, please. ❞

or ;; your girlfriend, ellie, wakes up feeling extra needy.

wc: 1.3k

cw + oneshot under the cut . . . !

thank you for the request! <3

cw: 18+ MDNI, sub!ellie, slightly bratty!ellie, strap sucking, pillow riding, dirty talk, light subspace, masturbation, you and ellie are so in love

loosely intertwined, don’t have to read first!

your coffee sits cold on your bedside table, long forgotten. below it a book, closed hastily, a page sticking out at an odd angle. usually, you’re quite the stickler about how your books are kept, but this morning… this morning is a different story.

see, your girlfriend woke up incredibly needy. ellie always had a tendency to wake up feeling deprived, but this? this is different. you could feel the wetness of her cunt dragging against your thigh as she straddled you, mouthed at your neck like she was in heat, nipped at your fingertips like she’s a damned puppy. she’d pulled the pointer one into her mouth, licking and sucking on it as if it was a fucking piece of candy. lord, help me… you think to whoever is listening.

so, truthfully, it’s to have been expected that this is where you both end up: you, standing in front of her bed, harness wrapped around your hips. silicone cock wet and glistening with cotton candy flavored lube — ellie’s pick, of course. she, on the other hand, is kneeled in front of you, pillow between her thighs and an impatient expression on her freckled face.

she huffs, nose scrunched up in the way that makes your chest feel warm. “come on,” ellie mutters, testy and petulant. “i’m not in the mood to beg, dude.”

you scoff at her, halting your hand on the back of her head. “not in the mood, huh? well i guess i can take that pillow from between your legs…” you drawl out, and then tug her head backwards with messy auburn strands.

“fuck,” ellie grunts, mouth open, red face reading evident that she’s feeling a little bashful to already have been reduced to this. “i’m sorry,” she puffs out, “i’m sorry. i’ll behave. i will.”

you hum, releasing her hair and wiping your thumb across her wet, kiss swollen bottom lip. “go ‘head and suck then, baby,” you murmur, stroking the back of her head and down to her pale neck. you don’t push her, you’re not an impatient bastard like ellie is, just gentle in equanimity. “put that little mouth to use for me instead of being a pest.”

she echos your hum, the side of her mouth pulling up into a bratty smile. i’ll behave, my ass, you think. ellie leans in, making eye contact with you as she does. she starts with kitten licks, and you purr at her like you can feel them.

her hand lifts to the base of the cock and your stomach jumps, heat rolling over your body in a wave of pleasure at what you’re witnessing. you’re positive you’re red as a goddamn stop sign right now, but you can’t get yourself to be embarrassed about it. ellie is a fucking vision, one that doesn’t usually submit fully. to see her like this, to be allowed her like this, takes the air out of your lungs.

“all of my exes just kind of… wanted me to make them feel good.” ellie had confessed one night, before you two had ever even slept together in the first place. “and it wasn’t like i didn’t want to, plus i did always like it! i just… i don’t know, it’s stupid. nevermind.”

“no, tell me,” you’d consoled, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her eye. green, pale and spectacular.

“i just… also want to be taken care of sometimes, i guess. i told you it was stupid.” she looked flustered, more than embarrassed. it had made a ball of misery well up in your stomach, that ellie thought the idea of her wanting to be looked after was anything but normal.

“that’s not stupid, ells.” you’d said immediately, eyebrows furrowed. “you’re allowed to want to feel taken care of… i-i’d love to take care of you,” you confessed lowly.

she looked away, face immediately inflamed a deep shade of pink.

ellie cleared her throat, then, and took a moment to collect herself. “and like, it wasn’t their faults, though. i didn’t exactly tell them what i wanted so… i don’t know.” she didn’t speak again for a moment, but you stayed silent because you could tell that ellie wanted to say more. “maybe it was good they didn’t touch me back,” she’d eventually continued. “maybe i was… waitin’ for you.”

ellie moans around your cock as she takes it deeper, and you honestly think she’s forgotten that she has the pillow between her legs because she squeezes them together and lets out a little whine of surprise.

“mm, does your little clit feel good, pretty girl?” you ask, knowing that ellie can’t respond with the toy in her mouth. she lets out a tiny grunt though, and you giggle, appreciating her attempt. “ride your pillow, ‘kay?” the command gentle, but firm.

after a moment of hesitation, one eye winking open at you sheepishly, she grinds down against the striped pillowcase. ellie shudders and her free hand comes up to grab at the back of your thigh, short, blunt nails digging into you. she pulls off for a moment and moans, raw and honest.

“that’s it, honey. i wanna know exactly how you feel, don’t be shy,” you coo at her.

she chokes on a broken whine and then leans in to take the cock between those red lips again. you groan, a little tempted to fuck into her mouth.

screw it.

you do it and ellie chokes a little, but doesn’t pull away. if anything, her movements grow more desperate. her hips are moving uncoordinatedly as she rides the pillow slotted between her thighs.

“good girl,” you sing to her, “good fucking girl.”

she pulls back to catch her breath and a tear slips down ellie’s face. “baby?” you ask, just wanting to check. “okay?”

it takes her a moment to answer, likely beginning to feel a little cloudy; a bit like a fog is settling over her usually overactive mind. “‘m great,” she reassures you, “just… i feel good.”

you smile at her, that sweet, loving smile that you reserve for ellie and ellie only. she’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. you’re overcome with the urge to care for her, to dote on her every need and desire. your girl, your pretty girl. befreckled and messy and usually always just a little bit sunburnt. she’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and she is so very yours. you stroke the side of her face in praise and she leans into your touch.

you guide ellie’s mouth back to the cock and she goes more than willingly, that desperate look in her eyes now more than ever. her hips haven’t stopped squirming, and she’s shaking like a fucking leaf.

“you’re so close,” you murmur, voice soft and guiding, “let go for me, pretty girl.”

she whimpers and does these frantic little movements against the pillow, pulling off of the cock and choking out a “ha-”. ellie’s eyes are jammed shut but you can see another tear roll down her cheek, and you know she’s in the absolute throes of pleasure right then.

your core fucking aches. you shove a desperate hand between your legs, pushing the strap to the side. a few quick circles around your clit are all it takes for you to slip over the edge too with a relieved groan.

ellie’s still got the pillow squeezed between her legs. her hips aren’t moving, but you know she’s riding the aftershocks. you crouch down and kiss her temple, tracing smaller kisses down the side of her face until you reach her lips. you kiss her deeply, and she opens up to you immediately.

“damn, dude.” she rasps a few minutes later, curled up against your back in bed. you’re both under the covers, a lazy morning decided without having to have a verbal conversation about it.

“for real, man.” you agree.

[nottswitch]

i miss drummer!mattheo

꒰ drummer!mattheo gets an ‘i miss you’ text from you ꒱

cw: 18+ mdni, masturbation (m), nudes, cursing, mentions of smoking

a/n: you just sent this, and i immediately got the idea. missed writing for this chaotic slutty man too, so i hope you enjoy this little thing i came up with !! <3

⋆˚꩜｡

if mattheo cared, it would have been embarrassing, how quickly you can turn him on with a simple ‘i miss you’ while he’s all alone on tour, in a dimly lit hotel room. but he didn’t. the guys were all off somewhere with girls that usually clung to the band after the show; not him, though. perched on a windowsill, letting the smoke from his cigarette drift away into the crack in the window, he stared at the city laid out below.

paris. beautiful, brightly lit, alive. but he didn’t feel like he was. touring had been delightful, truly – deafening crowds every evening, his muscles pleasantly aching after two hours spent behind his drum set. but in the silence of the night, when the only sound around him was his own breathing, he missed you too. a lot.

he stared at the screen for a few seconds before his fingers quickly found the keyboard.

‘ft now?’

‘sorry babe, i’m with the girls :( still miss you tho!’

fuck. mattheo groaned, tightly clutching the phone until his knuckles turned white. he was already anticipating the call, he was already half-hard under his sweats… before he fathomed the idea of not being able to see you tonight, another notification came in. not expecting much, he opened the text, and next thing he knew, he was staring at your beautiful body, the one he’d been craving like a madman lately… completely naked.

‘have fun babe! love you’

you little tease. what an absolute devil you were, but god, he was ready to sin for you any time. barely able to type out a ‘love you more’, mattheo carelessly threw the unfinished cigarette into the window and moved to the bed, impatiently tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. his cock throbbed in his hand as he practically threw himself onto the mattress, his hungry eyes zeroed in on your naked chest. those tits, fuck… he wished nothing more than to have one in his mouth right now, and the other one against his palm.

mattheo started stroking himself, and he duly tried to go slow at first, wanting to savour the moment of pretend closeness. but with the way your tits were pressed together just right, and the skin of your neck looked so damn inviting, just begging for him to bite into it… he knew he wouldn’t be able to last. his hips rutted into his fist, his cock easily gliding back and forth with his precum nearly dripping all over his fingers. ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous what you could do to him even from miles away, but god, it felt better and better each time.

mattheo gripped his length tighter as a loud moan escaped his lips. he couldn’t care less about the room next door, where his temporary neighbours could probably hear everything he was doing to himself. he only cared about your hips and waist, all bare and on display for him on the screen of his phone. he imagined coming back from the tour, finding you waiting for him in your bed, looking exactly like you did in the picture. he would push you back, press his heated body flush against yours and just take, take, take until the only word you remembered would be his name. he’d make you scream and cry from pleasure, he’d mark you up wherever his lips and hands could reach, he’d–

“ahh, fuuuck!!!”

he couldn’t hold back the sound, it simply tore from deep in his chest as he came, thick spurts of his release landing on his abs, his sides, dripping onto the hotel sheets. mattheo laid there for a moment, catching his laboured breath, his mind still reeling from the fantasies he was so absorbed in just seconds ago. finally, he found some strength in him to lift up his hand and snap a picture of his body, white cum covering his stomach, his still stiff and flushed cock resting in the mess he made of himself.

‘had fun, darling. can’t wait to come back’

au. more.

[starrysturnz]

overseas, under you

pairing. chris sturniolo x reader

summary. the boys invite y/n to come along on their winter vacation to hawaii, but problems arise when she finds herself sharing a bedroom with her long time secret crush… and it only has one bed.

warnings. mutual pining between two idiots. smut; a wet dream, some grinding… minor voyuerism in a way. they’re so cute they make me feel so lonely and i literally made them up.

word count. 3.9k

author’s note. one bed trope friends to lovers my beloved <3 a bit cliche but i think i was able to put a unique spin on it! lmk what you guys think :3 this started getting too long so i broke it into two parts!! part two will be released at the beginning of next week. happy valentine’s day to everyone, especially @strnilolover and @darksturnz for helping a girl out with ideas!! kisses!

masterlist | taglist | part two

dividers by: @uzmacchiato

© starrysturnz. all rights reserved.

a sharp beep beep! from her driveway was y/n’s cue to move along. she’d been rushing all morning to finish up her last-minute packing, having left half of the job for the day of, in true procrastinator fashion. a quick sweep through her mental checklist— phone, wallet, keys, passport— and she was scrambling out of the house.

she almost forgot to lock the door behind her when she caught sight of the boy in the driver’s seat, drumming his fingers impatiently against the leather of the steering wheel. chris always managed to take her breath away, as if it were the first time she was seeing his sharp jawline and piercing aquamarine eyes. shaking the thought away, she turned around and stuffed her key into the lock, triple checking that it was secure before shuffling off to throw her luggage in the trunk.

the slam of the driver’s side door fell on deaf ears as the girl hoisted her suitcase into the van, on a mission to be as quick as possible (after all, she was making them late). a light touch on her wrist had y/n jumping out of her skin, almost dropping the second bag onto the icy ground at her feet. her free hand flew to her chest as her head whipped around to find chris there, the feeling of his fingertips burning into the back of the other still gripping the handle.

chris was already smiling when they locked eyes. “i got it, ma.”

“chris,” she breathed, her shoulders dropping. “thank you.”

“’s nothing,” he replied warmly, in a way that had her cheeks heating up in the cold boston air. “go hop up front, a’ight? you’re picking music. but if you choose wrong, i’m giving matt aux privileges.”

⁺⁎˚

the ride to the airport was relatively uneventful. chris was too focused on following the gps to chat with anyone, not willing to miss an exit and add more time to detour. nick and matt were busy discussing the logistics of an upcoming space camp photoshoot in the backseat, leaving y/n to chew anxiously on her nails, her thoughts racing so fast they could lap the van on the highway.

she felt like an intruder. this trip had been a sort of anniversary gift from a brand the triplets had been partnered with for two years— an all-expenses-paid vacation to hawaii. they could’ve invited anyone, and they used their one extra ticket on her.

even though the boys assured her multiple times that their decision was instant and unanimous— “of course we want you there, you’re our best friend,”— y/n still felt guilty, insisting their brother, justin, might be a more logical choice. it was chris who’d spoken first, claiming that if they’d invited justin, they’d have had to find a way to include their parents as well, and then they’d be paying out of pocket.

it sort of made sense, y/n could admit. but maybe a part of her wished that chris wanted her there for another reason. she wished she was his plus one. that they could hold hands on the beach at sunset. that he would wrap her in his towel to keep her warm as the salty air grew colder. that—

“hey. y/n.”

a two-toned whistle had her tumbling off her train of thought, head snapping toward the driver’s seat at the sound of chris’s voice.

“you good? we’re here.”

she cleared her throat. “sorry. i was just….”

she wasn’t even sure the boy had heard her, already pushing his door open to grab their bags from the back. taking a deep breath, y/n followed suit, double checking they hadn’t left anything in the car before heading to the departures entrance.

⁺⁎˚

y/n was an infrequent flyer, to say the least. the few times she had been on a plane, she found herself in the back of the cabin, sandwiched between large men whose legs took up half her space, and unruly children who should’ve been old enough to know not to throw their toys into her lap.

this was something else entirely. a whole private cubical to herself, with a seat that reclined into a bed? no large men, no unruly children? it was a dream, if nothing else. she was thrilled.

but she also wished she wasn’t in first class. which is ridiculous, by the way— no one ever wishes they weren’t in first class, it’s a backwards thought process. and y/n knew that, but she also knew that if they’d just been in comfort plus, she could sit next to chris, chatting and laughing as usual. he would make the twelve hour flight feel like nothing, but instead, it would feel like double the trip in her little isolation pod.

the thought had her kicking herself in guilt. not only was she in first class, but she was there for free. it wasn’t fair of her to be upset about anything.

unbeknownst to the girl, chris caught the crease in her brow, frowning at the idea that something was bothering her. he waited a minute for the people around them to take their seats before crossing the aisle to her seat, knocking gently on the partition to get her attention.

“y’know, for someone going on a tropical vacation, you don’t seem too excited,” he mused. there was a teasing edge to his voice, but just beneath the surface, concern. “what, you worried you forgot to take out the trash before you left and your house’ll be smelly when you get home?”

“well i am now!” y/n groaned. “jesus, chris, why would you even say that?”

chris’s eyes crinkled as he laughed at her expense. “relax, ma, i’m just playin‘. knowing you, i bet you even swept your driveway before leaving. you didn’t forget anything.”

“swept my—?”

“excuse me, sir,” a polite tone sounded from the other aisle on the right side of the plane, “you’ll need to take your seat now. we will be taking off shortly.”

“’s my cue,” said chris, offering her one last reassuring smile. “stop stressing, okay? everything’s gonna be fine.”

⁺⁎˚

everything was not fine.

it was now three hours into the flight, and y/n had made the mistake of falling asleep immediately, missing dinner. she’d needed it, too, since the whole day had been so busy that she’d only managed to grab a couple snacks here and there. a small bag of chips was the only sustenance at her disposal, and the thought of eating another helping of overly-salted junk food made her feel queasy. she supposed she’d have to wait five hours until breakfast was served.

she’d just decided on a movie to try to pass the time when she heard the unmistakable sound of chris’s voice, his chin resting in his palm as he propped himself up on the partition.

“you get your beauty sleep?”

the boy’s hair was mussed— clearly, he’d made himself comfortable in his own seat. his sagging shoulders gave the impression that he was tired, but his shining eyes were wide awake.

“guess so.”

he hummed, his gaze softening just so. “doing okay? it’s gonna be a long flight still. you need anything?”

y/n gave him her best fake smile, not wanting to ask for anything more than she’d already been given. “i’m good, chris, don’t worry.”

mischief crept its way onto his face at her response, and before she could question it, he said, “guess you won’t be needing this, then.” he pulled the packaged meal from behind his back with a dramatic sigh and a look of faux disappointment he could only hold for so long at y/n’s reaction.

a gasp fell from her lips, her stomach growling at the site. “oh, my god, chris, how did you get that?”

“they skipped you at dinner,” he shrugged. “figured you were passed out, so i asked for two. first class comes with perks, apparently.”

“you’re incredible,” she sighed, relief washing over her like warm water when he handed her the container. “thank you. seriously.”

“’course, ma.” chris turned to head back to his seat, but stopped at the sound of her voice.

“wait, chris…," she blurted, maybe a little too quickly, "can you stay?”

when he turned back around, y/n’s demeanor had shifted from relaxed to tense— like she was afraid she might’ve said the wrong thing. her neck was turtling just barely into her shoulders, and she was picking at her fingernails, a longtime nervous habit chris had (unsuccessfully) tried many times to help her break.

it made his heart hurt. “sure, yeah. scooch over a little.”

the seat was suitable for one person, but it was obviously not built for a cuddle session. the pair struggled to find a comfortable position for a few minutes, before settling on chris sitting behind y/n, arms wrapped around her middle as she ate her dinner. she tried to ignore the electric feeling of his thumbs rubbing into her waist through her hoodie— and it had almost made her choke on a mouthful when he’d first started. she wasn’t even sure he was aware he was doing it.

when she’d finished the last of her lukewarm meal, chris set her tray off to the side in favor of pulling her back to lay down with him.

“i know you’re tired, y/n,” he spoke quietly, his breath fanning her temple, flexing his biceps to bring her that much closer to his chest (a move that made her cheeks grow warm). he planted a hand to the back of her head to steady her against his heart. “go to sleep, okay? i’ll wake you up for breakfast. promise.”

y/n only nodded, and prayed he couldn’t feel the intensity of her heartbeat through their clothing.

⁺⁎˚

the hotel was nice. far nicer than any y/n had ever stayed in before. the lobby alone was massive, with advertisements for every amenity a person could ask for— including a spa, which the girl would happily be taking advantage of. the thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.

nick, noticing, asked, “everything okay?”

she nodded. “just excited to finally relax. i’m afraid the first thing i’m going to do is take a long nap.”

“i hear you. matt kept me up all night with his giggling next door.”

“sorry i like comedies,” the middle triplet rolled his eyes, “not my fault you’re such a light sleeper. y’know they had complimentary earplugs, right?”

“i have sensitive ears, matthew.”

“next guest?” called the concierge before matt could respond, and he gave nick a pointed look before stepping up to check them in.

“so, chris,” nick started with a teasing tone, “what happened to you last night?”

“what do you mean, ‘what happened’ to me?” chris said, seemingly annoyed by the conversation already.

“i got up to use the bathroom and when i peeked into your seat, you were gone. care to tell where you were?”

y/n felt the flush make its way to her face, avoiding eye contact with either of the boys. she opened her phone, hoping to appear busy as she listened anxiously.

“dude, why were you peeking, that’s so creepy—”

“don’t sidestep my question, mister,” nick pressed. “you were gone when i came back, too.”

“i was hanging out with y/n, jeez, man. and it’s weird that you were stalking me, like that’s insane.”

“what, how—? i’m your brother! is it insane that i want to know where you are and that you’re safe? what if you were being kidnapped?”

“on a plane? really, nick?”

grateful that the subject had changed, y/n tuned out the rest of their argument, having mastered that skill many years ago. she watched as matt spoke with the kind-looking older fellow at the service desk, who eventually handed him two room keys. matt offered him a smile in return, and waved the rest of the group over to the elevators.

“okay, so,” he began handing them their respective keycards, “me and nick will take 1207. chris and y/n, you get 1204.”

y/n’s head snapped up at that. “i thought i was rooming with nick.”

“originally, yeah,” said matt, “but we had to move the space camp photoshoot to the early morning, remember? and since me and nick will have to wake up at, like, six, we figured we’d just bunk together.”

she paused. y/n did recall the boys mentioning how matt would come along to the photoshoot because nick needed someone he trusted to help oversee the production, since they’d be working with an entirely unfamiliar crew. she didn’t know they’d changed the time, though.

this wasn’t even out of the norm— y/n had slept over at the sturniolo’s many times growing up, often spending the night in the boys’ beds with them. but something about sharing a hotel room with chris, just the two of them, for a week... it filled her with butterflies.

“and the rooms aren’t connecting?” she clarified.

“well, they’re across from each other,” said matt. “sort of. we’ll just be ten feet away, don’t worry.”

“that okay?” asked chris, a nervous tinge in his voice.

y/n smiled as confidently as she could manage. “yeah, yes. of course. as long as i can take my long showers in peace.”

“fine. but you better leave the door unlocked in case i have to piss.”

they all laughed at that as the elevator doors opened, and headed in the direction of their rooms.

“okay,” matt began, checking his phone, “can we all agree to meet downstairs for dinner at eight?”

“eight? why so late?”

“because i’m tired, nick. i want to sleep. sue me.”

“at least you got some sleep last night,” nick mumbled, and matt’s hand flew up to smack him in the arm, but chris caught his wrist before it could land.

“just go take your nap. we’ll be down at eight.”

with that, the two retreated into their room. chris fumbled with his keycard for a moment, and y/n’s mouth had just opened to offer help when he managed to open the door.

“finally, some peace and—”

chris’s words died in his throat when he saw the room ahead of him. it was beautiful, like the rest of the hotel, with a mini-bar, a luxury bathroom with a glass shower, and floor to ceiling windows on the back wall. what he wasn’t expecting, however, was the bed.

the one bed.

behind him, y/n yawned, pushing past to be able to close the door. “what’s the matter?” she asked, before catching sight of the issue. “oh.”

it was quiet for a few moments.

chris didn’t know what to think. on the one hand, he’d be a liar if he said that this situation wasn’t on par with countless scenarios he’d daydreamed about him and y/n; the prospect of sleeping next to her— feeling her soft skin against his bare chest, the fresh scent of her shampoo filling his lungs— definitely excited him, no doubt about it. he wished they could have that every day.

on the other hand, he knew this wasn’t like all those times she had spent the night at their place over the years. back in boston, y/n split her time relatively evenly between the triplets. sure, she slept in chris’s bed occasionally, cuddling up close to him under his painfully thin comforter (often complaining that it needed replacing), but she did the same with matt and nick…. chris wasn’t special for that. here, though, in this five star hotel room… it would be just the two of them, alone every night, without so much as a connecting room with the others. it felt different, and he’d be remiss to blindly assume her comfort there.

the silence hung heavily in the air around them, creeping into awkward territory, but it seemed nobody wanted to speak first. chris glanced at y/n, who shifted her weight from one foot to the other. he tried to read her expression, but couldn’t land on anything concrete.

wanting to get ahead of the situation, to prove to y/n that her feelings were his priority, chris said in his best reassuring tone, “no worries. ’s probably just a mistake. i bet they’ll find us another room if we call the front desk.”

y/n’s heart dropped. of course chris didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as her for a whole week. that would be weird, she knew it would be. she just hadn’t expected him to suggest getting another room so quickly— knowing chris, she assumed he would make a few jokes about sharing, maybe playfully suggest she sleep on the floor (to which she would gently smack him upside the head, probably), but ultimately leave it up to her to decide. and from there, she could’ve told him it was no big deal. but now… well, she didn’t want to make him feel like he had to do anything he didn’t want to.

“uh, yeah,” she cleared her throat. “yeah, let’s call, then.”

nobody mentioned the way their once-bubbly energy seemed to fall flat, like a soda that had been left out overnight. in fact, nobody said another word until chris got the concierge on the line.

y/n didn’t bother to pay any attention to the call. she was busy trying not to let her exhaustion and disappointment mark the beginning of this trip; they were supposed to have fun! she needed to shake this one minor thing off and get to vacationing. maybe a visit to the spa would—

“you’re sure? all right. no, it’s no problem. thanks. you too.”

a short huff came from chris as he placed the phone back onto the receiver. scratching the inner corner of his eye, he spoke in an apologetic voice, “they said they’re booked out.” a sympathetic smile graced his perfect lips. “’m sorry. guess you’re stuck with me.”

y/n had never tried so hard to keep her emotions off her face. relief and excitement trickled down her spine, kickstarting her brain. it was like her body forgot it was tired. but she figured chris was probably still uneasy about it, and she didn’t want to seem like a creep.

“okay,” she said, “how about we figure out plan b later? i really need this nap right now.” a minor fib— she was giddy in the moment, yes, but the second her back touched a mattress, she’d be done for.

“all right, sleeping beauty,” the triplet rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking up, eye crinkling. “you take the bed, i’ll take the chair.”

“don’t be ridiculous,” she tried, hoping she wasn’t pushing her luck, “you need to sleep as much as i do, chris. come lay down.”

“are you sure? it’s no big, honest.”

she giggled, partially to lighten the mood, but also because she found this whole thing to be a bit silly. they’d cuddled countless times! waving him over, she teased, “since when are you too good to nap with me? get over here.”

the content smile on his face was all the reassurance she needed.

⁺⁎˚

chris was losing his mind.

there was no one to blame but himself. he knew agreeing to sleep with y/n (in the literal sense) would be a bad idea, but he hadn’t anticipated this.

by some random fluke, he’d woken up before their alarm went off, disoriented. it took him a few moments to realize where he was, what he was doing there, and… why his chest felt so heavy.

his breath caught. somehow, in the midst of their nap, y/n had ended up right on top of chris— her face buried in his neck, ribs expanding and contracting opposite his own. her legs, which had fallen either side of him, were slightly bent, giving him a sinful view of her ass in those yoga pants.

chris laid there for a moment or so, dumbfounded by his sudden predicament. what was the right thing to do here? he couldn’t wake her up, they still had— (he looked over at the clock)— half an hour until the alarm sounded. and moving her felt like too risky a disturbance. if anyone needed the rest right now, it was y/n.

the boy sighed, gazing at the ceiling like it might have an answer written on it. a minute passed, and just when he thought things couldn’t get more complicated— a whimper.

so faint that at first, chris figured he’d imagined it. but then came another, louder this time, and he definitely didn’t imagine that.

she must’ve been having a nightmare. his heart broke a little at the idea that she wasn’t enjoying what little sleep they were able to get after such a long trip. his arms came up to carefully hold her, rubbing her back with tender strokes so as not to startle her awake. closing his eyes, he hoped that her subconscious would recognize his comforting touch and send the bad dreams away.

“i got you, ma,” he whispered quietly, continuing the motions on her back. it didn’t seem to help— she was still tense above him.

… then the craziest thing: the girl’s hips rutting gently into his own. “chris,” y/n whined, eyes still shut tight, another whimper spilling from her mouth.

chris’s eyes shot open.

no way. she was dreaming about him?

now he was really fucked. if he didn’t move her, he’d surely be getting hard any minute, and that would be… difficult to explain, to put it simply. but if he did, and she woke up, she’d suspect he’d done so for a reason, and she’d be embarrassed either way.

“please, chris.” she sounded desperate.

chris felt like a perv, with his unconscious friend unknowingly grinding on him and whining his name into his neck. god, maybe he was dreaming; she looked so beautiful like this. but she was clearly in some level of distress, and his concern for his friend outweighed his morals.

“okay, ’s okay baby. ’m here,” he laid his cheek against the top of her head, hugging her tighter to him. “’m right here, y/n.”

he kept rubbing her back— slowly, reassuringly. y/n’s body shook in his hold, and chris had to stifle a moan as she gave a particularly hard rut of her hips, another distressed noise hitting his ears. poor thing.

“shh. c’mon, ma… you’re okay.”

eventually, y/n’s movements began to still, and soon the only sounds to be heard were her soft snores filling the room, like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

the boy beneath her stared at a spot on the wall, in shock. his best friend just had a dirty dream about him, right on top of him! what was he supposed to do now? tell her? ignore it? the thought of letting this go made his stomach churn.

what if it meant nothing? he’d had countless sexual dreams about people he wasn’t romantically interested in. (if every accidental fantasy had a deeper meaning, he’d be married to his high school algebra tutor by now.) chris couldn’t help but wonder, though…

what if it meant everything?

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[cayleeuhithinknott]

— skater!chris has been keeping a secret . . .

the room is hazy with smoke, the air thick and heavy, wrapping around you both like a weighted blanket. your head is swimming, but in the best way—warm, a little fuzzy, body loose against him. chris leans back against the pillows, legs spread lazily, and you’re settled in his lap, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him.

his hands rest low on your back, fingers teasing under the hem of your hoodie, just barely grazing skin. every time you shift, his grip tightens, like he doesn’t want to let you go.

he kisses you slow, like he has all the time in the world, tongue brushing against yours in a way that makes your stomach twist. he always does this when you’re high—takes his time, makes you feel like you’re the only thing in the universe. and you let yourself sink into it, let yourself believe it, just for a little while.

his hands slide under your hoodie, fingertips skating up your sides. “take this off,” he mutters against your lips.

you exhale a soft laugh. “impatient?”

he smirks, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then lower, tracing his lips along your neck. “you have no idea.”

your hands trail up his arms, slow and teasing, over the veins underneath his skin. you love them, the way they stretch and shift with his movements. sometimes, when he’s asleep, you let your fingers trace them, mapping out every blue tinted line.

he tilts his head, lips ghosting over your pulse. “you’re distracted.”

“you’re annoying.”

he grins, nipping lightly at your skin, making you suck in a breath. his fingers tighten on your hips, just as his phone buzzes beside you.

he tenses immediately.

you freeze.

your eyes flick to the screen, but he moves fast, grabbing it before you can see.

something about the way he does it—so quick, so defensive—sends a prickle of unease through you.

“who is that?” your voice is quiet, but sharp.

his grip on the phone tightens. “no one.”

your stomach twists.

you shift slightly in his lap, trying to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you. “chris.”

“drop it.”

your heart beats harder against your ribs.

“why are you acting like this?” you press, voice a little more unsteady now.

he exhales, frustrated. “i’m not acting like anything.”

his phone buzzes again.

before you can stop yourself, you reach for it.

he catches your wrist. “don’t.”

your jaw clenches. “then tell me who it is.”

he doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with that hard, unreadable expression, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

that’s all the confirmation you need.

your chest tightens, and you yank your hand back.

“fuck you.” you shove at his chest, moving to get off his lap, but he grips your waist, holding you still.

“stop,” he mutters, jaw tight.

you shove him again. “let me go.”

he exhales hard through his nose but releases you.

you scramble off of him, heart pounding, and grab his phone before he can stop you.

the name on the screen makes your stomach drop.

a girl. a string of messages. flirty. obvious.

you blink, fingers tightening around the phone, the words blurring in your vision.

chris shifts behind you. “it’s not what you think.”

you let out a sharp laugh. “oh, really?” you toss the phone onto the bed, turning to face him. “because it looks like you’ve been talking to someone else behind my back.”

his jaw clenches. “you’re acting like i fucking cheated on you or something.”

your heart stutters, something sharp lodging itself in your throat.

he keeps going. “you knew what this was. you’re the one who said this wasn’t serious.”

it feels like a slap, even though you knew this already. even though you told yourself a thousand times that it didn’t matter. that he didn’t matter.

you just wish he could drink up all the words he says, and maybe then he’d realize how bitter they really are.

silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating.

your voice shakes when you finally speak. “you’re such an asshole.”

he scoffs, shaking his head. “yeah, well, you’re the one still fuckin’ standing here.”

that should be enough. that should be the moment you walk out and never look back. but you don’t. because there’s something nagging at you, something beneath his words, in the way he looks at you.

“why?” you ask.

he frowns. “what?”

you cross your arms. “why were you talking to her?”

he hesitates. just for a second, but it’s enough.

your stomach twists. “oh my god.”

he runs a hand through his hair. “it’s not—” he exhales sharply. “we were fighting. you weren’t talking to me. i thought—”

he cuts himself off, shaking his head.

you stare at him, trying to piece it together. “you thought what?”

he looks away, jaw clenched.

and then it clicks.

“you thought i was done with you.”

he doesn’t say anything.

your breath catches. “so you found someone else.”

“it wasn’t like that.”

“then what was it like?”

his fists tighten at his sides. “i don’t know.”

you swallow past the lump in your throat. “yes, you do.”

his chest rises and falls, slow and heavy. “i didn’t want her,” he mutters. “i just—” he exhales hard. “i can’t fucking stand when you ignore me. it drives me insane.”

your heart pounds.

“i didn’t know if you were coming back,” he admits, voice lower now. “and i fucking hated that feeling.”

something inside you twists.

“so you texted her,” you say.

he nods, jaw clenched.

your throat tightens.

you don’t know what to say to that. you don’t even know how to feel.

but then he looks at you, really looks at you, and there’s something in his expression that makes your breath hitch.

he takes a step closer.

“i don’t talk to her like i talk to you,” he says quietly.

your stomach flips.

“i don’t kiss her like i kiss you.”

his voice is low, rough.

he takes another step, closing the distance, his hand brushing against yours.

“i don’t want her like i want you.”

your pulse pounds in your ears.

you should push him away. you really should. but you don’t.

his fingers skim over your hip, slow, hesitant.

“you drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters.

you shake your head, stepping back before he can touch you again.

“don’t,” you whisper.

his brows knit. “what?”

“don’t say all that just to make yourself feel better.”

he blinks, stunned silent for a moment.

you swallow hard. “you don’t get to hurt me and then act like you still want me.”

“i do still want you.”

“no, chris. you want the idea of me. you want me when it’s convenient. when i’m in your lap and high and laughing at your jokes. not when i need you. not when i’m hurting.”

his jaw ticks, but he doesn’t say anything.

you let out a shaky breath. “i can’t keep doing this. pretending it doesn’t kill me every time you remind me this isn’t real.”

he opens his mouth—maybe to apologize, maybe to lie again—but you shake your head.

“don’t,” you say again, softer this time. “just…don’t.”

and then you turn.

you walk to the door, fingers trembling as you twist the handle, and you don’t look back—not even when he says your name, quiet and broken behind you.

not even when you hear the bed creak like he’s gotten up.

you leave.

and this time, you’re not sure that you’ll come back.

author’s note . . . sorry this is..awful…but this has been in my drafts for a while and i wanted to post something while i attempt to get any sort of idea for matt and petal 😃

🏷️ : @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @paisleyy22 @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses @pasteldreams @matts-wife @courta13 @sugarraez @adorechris @elenayzxsturn @mattybsgroupie @zenithsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @bluestriips @grace-sturnz @sturnboos @owenstar @ribbonlovergirl @tweetybaird @tezzzzzzzz @vanteguccir @bernardmatthews @weirdothatwritess @im-a-mirrorball13 @thighs4evan @mattsgracie @iluvchr1s @sturnslux3

© cayleeuhithinknott

[faebled-stories]

Rumor Has it

Kinkvember Day 12: Size Queen

ITZY Lee Chaeryeong x Male reader

7k words

“I can’t believe I’m with ITZY’s Chaeryeong,” the man murmured, voice heavy with disbelief as his eyes roamed her flushed face. “You’re just so hot,” he added, the words tumbling out in a way that was meant to be flattering but only served to deepen the emptiness settling in her chest. His awe should have kindled something—pride, excitement, even a fleeting sense of satisfaction—but it barely registered.

Chaeryeong lay on the unfamiliar bed, her body half-sunken into the cushions as he moved rhythmically, each thrust marked by an urgency that lacked any real warmth. His hands skimmed over her skin with a mechanical precision, more rote than passionate, as if he were caught up in the idea of her rather than the moment they shared. His breath came in shallow, heated bursts against her collarbone, but rather than igniting any spark within her, it only deepened the creeping impatience that gnawed at her.

Detachment wrapped around her like a cold wave, numbing her senses until it felt as though she were watching herself from above, disconnected and distant. The cracked, faded ceiling above was far more familiar, more interesting than the man whose movements quickened, already nearing the climax of their encounter.

The scene was painfully predictable, an act she could have performed in her sleep. The pattern was always the same: meet a guy, revel in the spark of attraction, then watch that spark die the moment intimacy began. It wasn’t their lack of effort; many were charming, practiced, saying and doing all the right things. But beneath the flattery, the skilled movements, and the whispered praises, there was only the same worn-out script she had seen unfold too many times to count.

He caught her gaze, a confident smirk tugging at his lips. “I knew you’d be this wild,” he said, tracing a line down her side as if her silence was proof of his prowess. Chaeryeong’s lips curved into a slight, practiced smile—just enough to maintain the illusion. She knew what he was looking for: affirmation, a performance. It was easier to provide it than let him glimpse the blankness she felt inside.

“Tell me how good this feels," he whispered, voice thick with self-assured pride as he pushed forward. The words fell over her, hollow and ineffective, their intended power dissolving before it could ignite even a flicker of genuine response. She knew men like him all too well—the ones who craved validation, whose confidence was built on a steady diet of praise. They lived for these moments, hungry for reassurances that fed their ego as much as any touch or fleeting glance.

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, carefully calibrating her voice to mimic desire. Inside, the chasm of disinterest yawned wider, swallowing any pretense of excitement. His movements grew more erratic and rushed, signaling the approach of the end. Each gasp, each strained promise of how he would make her feel, only deepened her impatience. Her eyes wandered to the wall, where the paint peeled in thin, curling strips.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” he gasped, voice ragged as he tensed, releasing with a final, shuddering exhalation. The warmth splattered across her stomach, sudden and uncomfortable against her skin. He collapsed beside her, chest heaving, eyes closed with a self-satisfied smile curving his lips. The silence that followed pressed down on her, suffocating and familiar.

Chaeryeong stared at the ceiling, her expression unchanged, irritation simmering beneath her blank exterior. The mess was just another inconvenience, another reminder of how detached she felt from the entire experience. She sat up, reaching for the box of tissues on the bedside table, each swipe across her skin sharp with annoyance. The sticky remnants clung stubbornly, and she fought the urge to let out a sigh as she wiped it clean.

“That was amazing, you loved it, didn’t you?” he said, the lazy grin on his face matched only by the certainty in his voice. He looked up at her, eyes glinting with a kind of self-congratulation that made her jaw tighten.

“Yeah,” she said absently, the word slipping out devoid of meaning. She crumpled the tissue and tossed it into the trash with more force than necessary, already turning her attention to putting her clothes back on. The quicker she dressed, the sooner she could escape the weight of his gaze and the aftermath of a night that felt like just another checkbox ticked.

“You’re leaving?” His tone shifted, a hint of surprise breaking through his post-coital haze.

“Yeah, something came up,” she said, already buttoning her jeans and reaching for her jacket. She didn’t spare him a glance, the cool air from the hallway whispering in as she opened the door.

“Oh, well… okay. I guess I’ll see you around?” The words trailed after her, carrying the echo of confusion and a touch of disappointment.

“Maybe,” she muttered, stepping into the hallway. The door closed behind her, muffling his presence, and she let out a silent breath. The street outside stretched dark and quiet, the distant hum of traffic soothing in its consistency. With each step away, the encounter faded into the background, another scene in a cycle she was desperate to break.

-----

The next day, Chaeryeong walked into the studio, the weight of last night’s disconnection lingering around her like an unwelcome shadow. The steady thump of music in the background was a familiar comfort, its rhythmic beat grounding her as she stepped into the safe haven of dance practice. Here, she could shed the emptiness, rediscovering herself in the movements and the sweat.

As she moved down the hallway, she nearly bumped into you—a newer dancer known for your laid-back, shy demeanor that had a certain charm. The unexpected encounter made her pause, and she blinked up at you, adjusting the strap of her bag with an almost self-conscious touch.

“Oh, hey,” you said, eyes widening with surprise before a soft, genuine smile spread across your face. Your voice carried a hint of nervousness, but it was endearing, a reflection of your gentle nature.

“Hey,” she replied, her tone casual but warm. Chaeryeong had seen you before, exchanged a few words here and there, but your interactions were always routine—comfortable, familiar, but devoid of any real thrill or spark. Still, there was something grounding about your presence, an easy reliability in an industry full of fleeting faces and shallow exchanges.

“How’s it going?” you asked, shifting the strap of your own bag and glancing at her with a mix of shyness and openness.

“Good,” Chaeryeong answered with a brief look toward her makeup room. “Just getting ready for practice.”

“Same here,” you said with a small, awkward chuckle, nodding toward the practice room behind you. “Well, I’ll catch you later.”

“Yeah, see you,” she echoed, stepping past you as the moment seamlessly blended into the rest of her day.

Settling into her makeup chair, Chaeryeong projected an air of calm as the room buzzed around her with practiced chaos. Stylists moved efficiently, tugging at her hair and trimming stray ends while she scrolled through her phone, barely registering the cascade of notifications on the screen. Despite the morning’s encounter, her mind drifted back to the comforting rhythm of dance, where she could momentarily leave everything else behind.

A sudden murmur of gossip cut through the ambient chatter, the tone sharp enough to catch her attention.

“Did you hear about the new dancer?” one stylist whispered, drawing out her words as if relishing their weight.

Chaeryeong’s pulse quickened, but she kept her expression neutral, eyes glued to her phone as though she hadn’t heard.

“Oh yeah,” another stylist chimed in, her red lipstick as bold as the knowing smile she wore. “They say he’s... well, really well-endowed.” She stretched out the last words, savoring the ripple of reactions they prompted and darting her eyes around for signs of who was listening.

Heat crept up Chaeryeong’s neck, her cheeks warming despite her best attempt at indifference. In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of the stylists exchanging conspiratorial looks, their excitement palpable. She focused back on her phone, but the whispered words replayed in her mind, stubbornly refusing to fade.

“Where did you hear that?” a third stylist asked, her eyes wide as if this were the juiciest piece of news in weeks.

“Someone in the wardrobe department,” the second stylist replied, leaning in conspiratorially. “They saw him changing during a show. It was... unmistakable.”

Unmistakable. The word lodged itself in Chaeryeong’s mind. She scolded herself for the flicker of interest that sparked within her. It’s just gossip, she reminded herself. But the allure of whispered secrets had a way of sticking, no matter how much she tried to brush them off.

Chaeryeong attempted to shake off the chatter, but it clung to her thoughts, feeding her curiosity. She opened a recent group photo on her phone from a past shoot, eyes scanning your face, searching for... what, exactly? She didn’t know. The absurdity of it made her bite back a sigh.

She locked her screen and set her phone down, chastising herself. This is ridiculous, she thought, trying to push the rumor out of her mind. But it lingered at the edges, a persistent tickle she couldn’t quite dismiss.

A few days later, Chaeryeong found herself tucked into a quiet corner of a café, a rare escape from the whirlwind of studio life. The hum of coffee machines and the clinking of cups provided a soothing backdrop, calming her frayed nerves. She took a slow sip of her latte, savoring the warmth that radiated through her.

Her peace was short-lived. From a nearby table, lively voices cut through the mellow atmosphere. Natty and Julie, two bright junior members of Kiss of Life, were leaning into each other, their laughter infectiously carefree. Their energy filled the small café, vibrant and uncontainable.

Chaeryeong wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but their excitement was impossible to ignore.

“So... have you heard about the hot topic recently?” Natty’s eyes were wide, her voice tinged with thrill.

Julie’s grin widened as she lowered her voice. “Oh my God, yes! Everyone’s talking about it. You mean... the rumor?”

Chaeryeong’s fingers drummed lightly against her mug. She’d heard variations of this story a hundred times before—momentary bursts of intrigue that swirled through the industry, more smoke than fire. Yet, there was something magnetic about the way these whispers spread. No matter how hard she tried to tune out, the animated tones and shared glances drew her in.

“Yeah, you know... the rumor,” Natty said, barely suppressing her giggles.

Julie leaned back, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. “Honestly, I kind of want to see if it’s true.”

Natty’s eyes widened, shock mixed with amusement. “Wait, what? You’re actually thinking of... finding out?”

A daring glint crossed Julie’s face. “Why not? Everyone’s acting like he’s some kind of god. He’s always so nice and friendly. It wouldn’t be that hard to get close.”

Natty shook her head, half-amused, half-incredulous. “You’re wild! What if it’s not true? Or worse, what if it is?”

Julie’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “That’s what makes it fun! I’m not just going to ask him, obviously. But if the opportunity comes up... why not?”

Chaeryeong took another sip of her coffee, pretending to focus on the view outside. The boldness of youth was something she recognized from her own early days. They were fearless, driven by curiosity and the thrill of what-ifs. But she knew better now. Rumors had a way of spiraling, turning curiosity into consequences.

Yet, their conversation lingered in her thoughts, winding its way into the quiet spaces of her mind. Could there be any truth to it? It was absurd, but the question gnawed at her. She tried to brush it off as idle curiosity, but the story held on like a stubborn melody.

With a sigh, Chaeryeong set down her mug and stood, casting a glance back at Natty and Julie. They were still deep in conversation, laughter bubbling over as they reveled in their world of daring and speculation. Their faces were bright, full of life untouched by the cynicism that came with years in the industry.

As Chaeryeong stepped into the crisp autumn air, a bemused smile tugged at her lips. Maybe, in their own ways, everyone was searching for a little excitement, a hint of truth buried in the glitz and chaos. In the unpredictable realm of K-pop, who wouldn’t want to peek behind the curtain to find out what was real?

-----

On a quiet afternoon, Chaeryeong sprawled across the cool floor of the practice room, her body still humming from hours of intense rehearsal. The mingling scents of sweat and faint traces of perfume filled the air, and the ache in her muscles was a satisfying reminder of her hard work. For a brief moment, silence settled over the room, seeping into her exhaustion and offering a rare sense of peace.

The stillness was broken by the soft, deliberate clicks of Ryujin’s phone. Every few moments, Ryujin’s lips would curl into a smirk, her eyes flickering with amusement as she scrolled through whatever had caught her attention. Chaeryeong, trying to focus on stretching out her legs, found herself drawn to the subtle shifts in Ryujin’s expression.

“What’s got you giggling?” Chaeryeong asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity. She lifted an arm over her head, feeling the pull in her shoulder, though the stretch couldn’t quite outmatch the intrigue sparked by Ryujin’s grin.

“Oh, just some juicy gossip,” Ryujin replied, snapping her phone shut and looking up with a mischievous glint. “You’ve heard the latest about him, haven’t you?”

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, her heart giving a small, involuntary skip. “I’ve heard bits and pieces. What’s new?”

Ryujin leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, rumor has it things have taken an… interesting turn.”

Chaeryeong found herself inching closer, her interest piqued. “Interesting how?”

“Remember that new staff member from production? Long hair, brunette, always with the clipboard?” Ryujin’s voice dropped even further as Chaeryeong nodded, recalling the confident, polished woman who’d been around the studio lately. “Apparently, she tried to hook up with him, but it didn’t go as planned.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Ryujin savored the suspense, a smile playing on her lips. “She called it off halfway through. Said it was ‘too much’ for her.”

Chaeryeong’s mouth fell open in disbelief, a small laugh escaping before she could stop it. “You’re serious?”

Ryujin’s nod was triumphant. “Completely. She’s been avoiding him ever since.” The way Ryujin spoke made it clear she found the entire thing endlessly entertaining. “Can you imagine? She didn’t even finish!”

Chaeryeong leaned back, trying to process the bizarre twist. Until now, the rumors had been little more than idle chatter, a way to pass the time between rehearsals. But this? This felt different—specific, almost too wild to be entirely made up.

“That’s beyond crazy,” she muttered, shaking her head. “So she really just… walked away?”

Ryujin’s smile widened. “Too intense for her, apparently. Makes the rumor even juicier, right?”

Chaeryeong chuckled, fingers brushing her forehead as if to clear the strangeness from her thoughts. She’d always seen you as quiet and reserved, an enigma wrapped in an unassuming presence. You’d danced beside her, shared jokes and casual conversations, but now it felt like a veil of mystery had fallen over you, changing how she saw you.

Ryujin noticed the flicker of interest in Chaeryeong’s eyes and pounced on it. “Not curious at all?”

Chaeryeong scoffed, though a faint warmth crept up her neck. “It’s just gossip. Things like this always get exaggerated.”

Ryujin laughed knowingly. “Maybe. But admit it, there’s a part of you that wants to know. And who’s to say there isn’t some truth hidden in there?”

Chaeryeong rolled her eyes, trying to brush off Ryujin’s teasing, but a reluctant smile played on her lips. “Okay, maybe I’m a little curious,” she conceded.

“Exactly,” Ryujin said, leaning back with a victorious nod. “And who knows? You’ve worked with him more than anyone. If anyone can figure out what’s real, it’s you.”

Chaeryeong’s expression turned wary. “Are you suggesting I go looking for answers?”

“Not exactly,” Ryujin replied with a wink. “But it wouldn’t hurt to keep your eyes open. You never know what you might find.”

As Chaeryeong stood up, stretching her arms high above her head, the tension in her muscles eased, but a new kind of tension lingered in her mind. “I’m not getting caught up in this,” she said, trying to sound resolute.

Ryujin’s smirk deepened. “Sure. Just don’t blame me when you can’t stop wondering.”

Chaeryeong’s gaze drifted across the empty room. Though she said nothing, her thoughts inevitably circled back to you—the unexpected center of a rumor that refused to fade. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to you than she had realized.

-----

In the days that followed, her resolve to ignore the gossip unraveled bit by bit. Every break in rehearsal, she’d catch snippets of whispered conversations, soft voices punctuated by the thrill of the latest gossip. The room seemed charged, the air thick with secrets woven together in webs of speculation, and the more she tried to tune it out, the more the curiosity gnawed at her.

It was a curious thing, the way her perception of you began to shift. In her mind, the once-awkward grin and boyish shyness you’d worn so easily took on a new, shadowed dimension. She’d always seen you as the soft-spoken one, the one who was quietly supportive, almost unassuming. But now, even a passing glance was tinged with the echo of those whispered stories, and each encounter left her feeling as if she’d glimpsed only a fraction of who you really were.

The questions pulsed in her thoughts, gaining a stubborn grip, no matter how often she told herself it was only idle gossip. What if the quiet you she’d known was only part of the story? What if there was a depth, a mystery lurking beneath the surface, a piece of you yet to be uncovered?

With every passing day, her curiosity transformed from a soft, passing thought into an itch that lingered, whispering at the back of her mind. And though she told herself to brush it aside, Chaeryeong couldn’t help but wonder. In a world built on appearances and carefully constructed images, maybe there was something real beneath all the stories. And maybe—just maybe—she’d find herself wanting to know who you truly were.

Then, one afternoon, it seemed as though fortune had finally aligned in her favor. Practice had stretched longer than usual, the group winding down and slowly dispersing in pairs or small clusters, chatter buzzing through the air. Chaeryeong, catching her breath near the edge of the practice room, happened to look up just as you turned the corner into the hallway, your figure briefly silhouetted against the light streaming in from the corridor.

Your gaze found hers, and in that brief, quiet exchange, you offered a shy, slightly lopsided smile—a familiar look that made her pulse skip, the awkward charm in it disarming and strangely magnetic. In that moment, something sparked in Chaeryeong’s chest, a flicker of boldness mixed with curiosity. Today, she insisted, I’ll find out more.

Whether it was the way you moved, calm and at ease despite the group’s lively presence, or the weight of the unanswered questions lingering in her mind, she couldn’t ignore the pull anymore. The hallway felt smaller, the walls pressing closer as she crossed the distance between you, her footsteps light but deliberate.

“Hey!” she called out, her tone casual but carrying a note of unmistakable purpose. You paused, a slight furrow of confusion forming on your brow as you turned. “Can you help me with something?” she asked, her smile warm but with a hint of mischief that made your eyes narrow in curiosity.

“Oh, uh… sure. What do you need?” you replied, polite and almost cautious, your tone laced with that familiar modesty she had come to expect from you.

“There’s something broken in my dressing room,” she replied, her tone smooth and casual as she gestured down the hallway. Ignoring the flicker of uncertainty that crossed your face, she took a step forward, inviting you to follow her. You hesitated, but soon enough, you fell into step beside her, the two of you making your way through the quiet corridor toward her dressing room.

Her heart pounded as you neared the door, the quiet intensity of her decision hitting her as she led you inside, closing the door behind. For a moment, you looked around, a faint confusion in your expression as you glanced around the small space.

“So… what exactly is broken?” you asked, your brow lifting as you scanned the room, clearly searching for any sign of damage.

A smile crept onto her face, playful and assured. “There’s nothing broken,” she said softly, watching as the realization dawned in your expression. “I just wanted to get you alone.”

Your eyes widened, surprise and hesitation crossing your face as you struggled to find a response. “Alone? I… I don’t really…”

She reached out, placing a hand on your arm in a gentle but firm gesture, her gaze steady. “You’ve probably heard the rumors about you,” she said, her voice quiet, laced with both curiosity and determination.

Your face flushed, a deep crimson that betrayed your nervousness, and you quickly averted your gaze. “I-I don’t really pay attention to that stuff,” you stammered, shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, I do,” she replied, her voice lowering to a near-whisper, her breath warm and close. “And I’m curious.”

You blinked, taken aback, struggling to process her words. “Curious? About… about what?” Your voice was barely a murmur, your gaze flicking nervously between her face and the door.

“About whether the rumors are true,” she continued, taking a step closer, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that made the air between you both feel electric. She could feel your hesitation, but she wasn’t about to back down—not now.

Your breath hitched, and you took a small step back, the uncertainty clear in your expression. “I… I don’t think this is a good idea, Chaeryeong.”

But she only smiled, undeterred by the protest, taking the soft reluctance as a sign that she was closer to the truth than she’d expected. “I think it’s a great idea,” she said softly, her gaze steady as she leaned in, her hand tracing a slow line down your arm.

Before you could voice another word of protest, she closed the space between you, capturing your lips with her own in a kiss that was unhurried but unmistakably confident. You froze, the surprise evident as her warmth pressed against you, but after a moment, your hands found her waist, responding with an uncertainty that melted into something softer, bolder.

When she pulled back, your breath was shallow, confusion and conflict swirling in your gaze as you looked at her, trying to find the words. “Chaeryeong, I… I don’t want you to think—”

She lifted a finger to your lips, silencing you with a soft shush. “You don’t have to explain anything. I want this.”

Your expression betrayed your uncertainty, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else—a tension, an attraction you seemed to be struggling to contain. “But… what if this isn’t—”

“Don’t overthink it,” she murmured, her voice soft as her hand found yours, guiding it gently. Her fingers brushed against your skin, warm and light, and you felt the world around you blur, the small room shrinking to just the two of you. “Just show me.”

“Show you?” you repeated, the words barely escaping your lips as you tried to steady yourself, her gaze holding yours with a quiet intensity that felt almost like a challenge.

Her smirk widened, her hand trailing downward, brushing against you with a deliberate slowness that sent a surge of heat through the quiet room. “Show me what I’ve been hearing about.”

A heavy silence fell between you, your gaze flicking toward the door, conflicted but drawn in by the certainty in her eyes. Something shifted in you then—whether it was the thrill of the moment, the pull of her confidence, or the simple desire to finally let go of your restraint, you couldn’t tell. You nodded slowly, your hands moving to the buttons of your shirt, your breath shallow as her eyes followed every motion.

As the last button fell open, Chaeryeong’s gaze grew intense, her breath catching as she took you in. For a moment, the noise and tension of the studio outside felt like a distant memory, her curiosity and excitement heightening with each second. It’s real, she thought, the truth of all the whispers and gossip settling into place, striking her with a thrill she hadn’t fully expected.

"Wow the rumors are true," she whispered, stepping closer. Her hands gently guided you to sit on the plush couch. "I've been looking for someone to be able to fulfill my needs and you are formidable" she admitted, her voice lowering to a sultry whisper.

Sitting down, your heart pounded as Chaeryeong knelt before you. There was a moment of stillness, her eyes locked with yours, before she leaned in. Her breath was warm against your member as she began, her touch sending waves of electricity through your body.

She started slowly, her lips parting to take you in, her movements deliberate and gentle. You could feel her tongue, soft and exploratory, circling the tip before she took more of you into her mouth. The warmth, the wetness, it was overwhelming.

As Chaeryeong continued, she seemed to grow more empowered with each inch she took. Her eyes, when they met yours, were filled with a proud determination. She was proving something to herself as much as she was pleasuring you.

The air was thick with anticipation and the subtle scent of her exertion. She was focused, each movement more deliberate and bold than the last. Her determination was palpable, and you could see it in the way she bit her bottom lip as she concentrated.

Her hands gripped your thighs tightly, using your body for support as she pushed herself to take more of you. With each movement, she adjusted her technique, learning as she went, adapting to the situation with a skill that only came from experience and a deep understanding of her craft.

You could feel the tension building in the room as she took more of you, sinking deeper with each thrust. Her breathing became heavier, and you could hear the soft sounds of her exertion, mingling with the sound of her lips against your skin. Her hair brushed against your thighs as she moved, a soft and sensual contrast to the firmness of her grip.

Finally, she reached the base, her lips pressed against you as she took all of you in. It was a moment of pure intimacy and connection, a testament to her skill and dedication. And as she held you there, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration and respect for the woman before you.

The feeling of your entire body being enveloped by warmth and tightness was overwhelming. You could feel the muscles of their throat contracting and relaxing around you, creating an indescribable level of pleasure that left you trembling. The sensation of being so completely encased was both thrilling and intimidating, and you couldn't help but let out a gasp of disbelief.

"No one has ever taken me so well before," you managed to say, your voice thick with emotion and desire. Your words were muffled, but still understandable, as you were still buried deep within them. You could hear the surprise and satisfaction in your own voice, and it only served to heighten your arousal.

The experience was so intense and all-consuming that you found it hard to think or speak clearly. You were lost in a sea of pleasure, your mind and body fully focused on the sensations coursing through you. You couldn't believe the level of arousal from being completely inside Chaeryeong's throat. 

She paused for a brief moment, pulling back slowly with a satisfied, almost victorious smile gracing her lips. Her eyes slightly teary but gleamed with a sense of pride and accomplishment, as if she had just uncovered a hidden treasure. In a way, she had discovered exactly how to please you in a manner that was unique to her.

She plunged back down, enveloping your shaft once again with her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue danced and swirled around your member, exploring every inch with a curiosity that was both exhilarating and arousing. The rhythm she employed was methodical and precise, building up a steady momentum that left you breathless and wanting more.

Chaeryeong's technique was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. She moved with a confidence and fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly, as if she had been practicing this art for centuries. Every movement was deliberate and calculated, designed to elicit the maximum amount of pleasure from your body.

As she continued to work her magic, you could feel the tension building way too quick, like a coiled spring ready to burst. your muscles tensed and released, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to maintain control. But it was no use she had you under her spell, and there was nothing you could do but surrender to the inevitable.

Without warning, the peak arrived embarrassingly quickly, your body tensed up as you surrendered to the intense climax. A wave of pleasure washed over you from head to toe. Crying out her name, your fingers tangled in her hair, pushing her deeper as you rode out the high. Chaeryeong, who was completely dedicated to the moment, took you in as deeply as she could, her jaw stretched wide open to its maximum capacity. However, even with her best efforts, some of your release managed to escape past her lips, leaving a glistening trail that made its way down her chin. The sight of it was incredibly arousing, and it was clear that Chaeryeong had given her all to the moment, creating an unforgettable experience that would be etched in your memory for a long time.

She sat back on her heels, a look of satisfaction and slight surprise on her face as swallowed as much of your release as possible, savoring the taste as she wiped the corner of her mouth. Her chest heaved, not just from the physical exertion, but from the thrill of her achievement.

"Fuck, I cant wait to have you in my guts," she said, her voice a mix of pride and a playful challenge.

You could only nod, still reeling from the intensity, your mind buzzing with the intimacy of the moment.

As she straddled you with a grace that belied her iron will, the air around you thickened with anticipation. "I told you, I'm not like the others," she murmured, her voice a sultry blend of promise and challenge that seemed to resonate with the very walls of the room. "I'm going to take it all, every inch of you."

Chaeryeong reached down and positioned you member along her toned tummy. the outline of your shaft reaching past her belly button and the sight only seemed to heighten her arousal. She lifted herself up and placed your tip right at her entrance. As the first surge of her entry made contact, a sharp and searing connection coursed through both of you, a potent mixture of challenge and exhilaration. Ugh, finally the words echoed in her mind, a silent testament to the culmination of her relentless pursuit.

Her body's response to your formidable presence was visceral, yielding and stretching in a way that was almost overwhelming. It was a threshold moment, where the line between pleasure and pain blurred into a singular, exquisite sensation. The initial sting of the stretch was rapidly eclipsed by a rush of empowerment, a triumphant defiance that scoffed at any hint of intimidation.

As each second ticked by, she experienced a growing sense of command and authority over the situation. She welcomed the intensity, the complexity, and the overwhelming power of the experience, using it to bolster her confidence and firm her resolve.

The moment was profound for both of you, a shared experience of vulnerability and intimacy that neither had encountered before. As you moved together in a rhythm as old as time, there was a sense of exploration, a journey into the uncharted territories of each other's bodies and souls.

For you, the sensation was overwhelmingly new. The initial penetration was a revelation, the heat of her inner walls enveloped you, the tightness and the pulsating warmth bonded you to her in a way words could scarcely capture. Every inch was cradled by her as you became one. It was as if the very essence of your being was being drawn out, channeled through the physical connection that tethered you to her.

While for Chaeryeong, the experience was equally transformative. She felt a stretching, a yielding of her deepest self to accommodate your presence. The depths of her womb were stirred as if from a long slumber. It was as though ancient, primal instincts were roused, acknowledging the potential of creation that lay within the act.

Her body responded with a knowing of its own, a subtle undulation that seemed to draw you in further, inviting you to explore the innermost sanctum of her being. With each movement, she felt more alive, more in tune with the ebbs and flows of her own desire, mirroring the dance of life itself.

Her breaths grew deeper, her grasp tightened, and her spirit soared. She reveled in the realization that she was not merely a passive participant in this dance of passion—she was the masterful conductor, leading them both in this symphony of sensation and connection.

With every sinuous sway of her hips, Chaeryeong's dominance unfurled like a nocturnal bloom, each movement a testament to her unyielding control. She danced a dance of power that commanded the space around her, her body moving with a precision and intent that was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her voice, rich and velvety, wove a sultry symphony that resonated with the raw essence of confidence and command, her words hanging in the air like a seductive incantation.

"Ugh, fuck you're huge," she murmured, her breaths short and quick from the exertion of her rhythmic movements. "You'll never feel this good with anyone else." Her words, laced with a potent blend of pleasure and cunning seduction, curled into the air like tendrils of smoke, captivating the senses and ensnaring the mind. In that moment, Chaeryeong was the embodiment of dominance, her presence an indomitable force that rewrote the rules of engagement, leaving an indelible mark on the soul.

Your gaze was locked onto the vision before you—Chaeryeong's face, a canvas of pure pleasure, her body undulating with a rhythm that resonated deep within your being. A moan escaped your lips, a testament to the desire that was building like a crescendo within you.

She sensed your struggle, the battle to maintain control as you teetered on the brink of something monumental. "Look at you," she breathed, her voice a sultry whisper that seemed to caress your soul. Her fingers traced a delicate path along your jawline, a touch that was both tender and tantalizing. "I'm making you feel so good, aren't I?"

Her words were a silken web, ensnaring you in a trap of yearning from which there was no escape. "You're going to lose yourself in me, aren't you?" she continued, a hint of satisfaction threading through her tone. "After this, you won't want anyone else. You’ll be mine."

Your grip tightened around her waist, a futile attempt to anchor yourself amidst the tumultuous sea of sensations. "I... I can't hold back much longer, Chaeryeong," you confessed, the urgency in your voice betraying your helplessness.

Her smirk was a promise of the inevitable, her movements an expertly choreographed invitation to let go. "Oh, why would you hold back? I want to feel every last bit of you inside me," she teased, her own excitement evident in the catch of her breath.

The air between you crackled with electricity, each touch, each movement fueling the fire that raged within. The rhythm of your union grew ever more insistent, a siren's call to the depths of abandon. "I won’t be able to stop," you managed to utter, a final warning as your eyes locked with hers, the last vestiges of your resolve dissolving under the weight of your need for her.

Chaeryeong's response was a whisper that scorched your ear and sent a fresh cascade of desire down your spine. "That’s exactly what I want. Show me how much you need me," she commanded, her voice a low thrum that resonated with the primal beat of your hearts.

With a renewed fervor, she moved against you, her hips a maelstrom of motion that drove you both inexorably toward the precipice. The world outside this room ceased to exist; only the two of you remained, entwined and moving as one. The couch beneath you protested faintly, its legs scraping against the floor—a mere whisper compared to the symphony of your mingled breaths and the roar of passion that enveloped you.

"Cum for me," she urged, her voice a blend of triumph and anticipation. "Show me you’re mine."

With a final, surrendering thrust, you reached the zenith of pleasure, your voice breaking in a raw, primal cry as ecstasy consumed you. "I'm cumming," you declared, your body a conduit for the overwhelming surge of release that coursed through every nerve.

The room was thick with the scent of passion, a musky perfume that clung to the air and enveloped the two entwined figures. Chaeryeong's breaths came in short, sharp gasps. Her body, slick with the exertion of their shared dance, moved with an urgency that matched the pounding of her heart, a drumbeat that seemed to echo the rhythm of their lovemaking.

As she surrendered to the waves of her climax, she found herself immersed in an ocean of bliss, her body quivering beneath the relentless surge of rapture. "Yes! I'm cumming! Fill me up" she screamed, her cries a declaration of victory.

Each pump of your seed overflowing within her propelled her to new heights, a sensation that had once been merely a fantastical dream, now vividly experienced. Her body convulsed and succumbed to the intensity, her cries intermingling with the potent atmosphere of the room, culminating in an intoxicating sensory symphony. At long last, she had discovered the pinnacle of her sexual quest, the ultimate fulfillment that had eluded her until this moment of unbridled surrender.

Her fingers, like talons, clawed at your chest, not out of aggression but from a primal need to mark you as hers. She sought to erase the boundaries between you, to blur the lines until there was no her, no you, but a singular entity caught in the throes of passion. It was as if she believed that with enough force, enough desire, she could fuse your very essences together, creating a bond that transcended the physical realm.

As the warmth of the moment settled around you both, Chaeryeong’s fingers moved with slow, intentional strokes along your collarbone, lingering as if marking her place. She traced small circles over your skin, her touch both gentle and claiming, a wordless reminder that she held a special kind of control here. Her gaze lingered on you, unwavering and filled with a spark of something deeper, a hint of possessive pride in the effect she had on you.

She leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice low and deliberate. “You know,” she murmured, each word sinking in with quiet intensity, “no one else could ever take you like I do.” Her fingers drifted to your jawline, holding you there as she spoke, her eyes narrowing slightly, studying you in a way that felt intimate, almost territorial. “You’re mine now,” she added softly, her voice laced with a blend of warmth and certainty, as if she had no doubt of the truth in her words.

There was a satisfaction in her expression, a quiet, possessive pride that seemed to fill the space between you. Her hand found yours, and her grip tightened, an unspoken promise in the way her fingers intertwined with yours. “When you want this again”—she gave your hand a gentle squeeze—“you’ll know exactly where to find me.”

Her eyes never left yours, her gaze intense and steady as if binding you to her in an unbreakable vow. She leaned forward, her lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was slow and lingering, a deliberate, possessive mark she left there like a signature, something to remember her by.

When she finally pulled away, the warmth of her core around your shaft vanished, replaced by the cold, empty air that only made you crave her all the more. As she rose, a trace of your seed slipped down from her glistening folds. The sight stirred something primal within you—a longing that went beyond desire, a need to be inside her again, to feel that consuming warmth at all times.

Her hand lingered on your chest as she looked down at you, her gaze satisfied yet somehow gentle, as if savoring the effect she’d left on you. Her fingers traced along your jaw, her touch warm and lingering, as if marking you with the memory of her presence.

With an effortless grace, she rose to her feet and cast one last, lingering look back at you. Her gaze held a quiet dominance, an unspoken assurance that the spark between you was entirely hers to command. She dressed herself swiftly, leaving the lingering trace of your essence inside her, a mark of the connection you’d just shared. And as she slipped away, her touch, her warmth, and the faint, visceral reminder of your bond wrapped around you like an invisible tether—one you knew you’d carry long after she was gone.

[revelboo]

Hey revel!! I love your stuff and you’re partly what inspired me to write my own transformers stuff. It’s actually my 26th birthday today (I’m getting so close to my thirties and I actually love it) and I was wondering if you could do something with the elite trine? Love those little fighter jets

Happy Birthday! That’s awesome that you’re writing your own stuff! The transformers community here is pretty great.

🔞 mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Interludes Pt 11

Seeker Trine x Reader

• Venting in exasperation, his wings tuck close at the noise and heat of the space. But when he glances at Thundercracker and sees the smile on the brother’s face, Starscream has to swallow his complaint. Because his trine deserves to relax, to work off the tension. And if Skywarp and Thundercracker want to do that by pinning some little, willing organic under them and rutting them into an incoherent mess, he’s going to support them. Besides, he can’t deny a curiosity about the humans. Or that he likes the idea of dominating one, being in complete control for a change.

• “Just pick one already,” Skywarp groans, grabbing onto Thundercracker’s wing and leaning his weight on it, to make him hiss in pain. “There’s a ton of them, they’re willing and ready right now. Who cares about their personality?” But he cares, isn’t trying to frag his way through every human that frequents Interludes like some mechs, Thundercracker’s looking for something real. A mate. What they’re supposed to be doing.

• “I care,” Thundercracker mutters and Skywarp lets go of his wing, watching his brother go approach another human and bend to talk to them and he shoots a look at Star to back him up, but his other brother just flicks his wings. Isn’t the point to frag as many squishies as possible until they find one they want to keep? Personally, he’s ready to do his part. Watching Thundercracker smile at whatever the human says, he can’t be too angry, though. When’s the last time Thundercracker smiled like that? When any of them were actually happy? Well, before the war. And Thundercracker offer a human his arm, gesturing with his other hand at them and Star clears his vents loudly as the human waves.

• Heart racing as you take Thundercracker’s arm and let him lead you to his two brothers, Skywarp and Starscream, you’d been trying to find one Cybertronian to hang out with. Three, though? Excitement making you struggle not to grin as people turn to watch and you’re getting some looks. And you heat when Thundercracker slides an arm around you, big hand on your hip. Deciding as you look them over, that the only thing better than twins is triplets. Because these guys have the same build, their faces are different and there’s subtle differences in their frames and not so subtle differences in their paint jobs, but they’re almost identical. “I can’t wait to get to know you all intimately.”

• You’re bold, he’ll give you that. Daring to meet his optics as Thundercracker’s servos rub against your hip. “Shall we?” Starscream asks and he vents when Skywarp impatiently shoves past a couple of Autobots to get a room token for them. Watches Thundercracker guide you toward a door and he falls into step behind you both, momentarily distracted by how small you are tucked against Thundercracker. Fragile.

• Leading you inside, Thundercracker’s wings lift when Skywarp immediately pulls you into his frame, dragging you up against him as his mouth covers yours and your back hits the wall. Wasting no time to start trying to unwrap you as you laugh, his hips rocking against you. “Too many layers,” Skywarp groans in frustration, hiking your lower covering up to reveal bare skin underneath. “Thank Primus,” his brother snarls, releasing his spike against you and shifting. And your laughter cuts off on a startled moan as Skywarp fills you and Thundercracker smiles. Knew he’d chosen right, looking for someone who can handle all of them.

• Head back as one of them, Skywarp, you’re pretty sure pins you to the wall, hips pumping urgently. Can’t even be annoyed that there’s a perfectly good bed right there going to waste as you hook your legs around his waist. “Just like that, please,” you moan, aware of the other two watching you both. But then, they’ve probably done this before if they’re down with sharing and you’re winding up fast at the feel of him stretching you, his every ridge on his spike hitting just right.

• You’re so tight and slick around his spike, like you’re made just to take him. And the way you’re moving against him, your breath hitching on those little sounds as his fans kick on? “We’re keeping this one,” he groans against your skin and you find and dig your nails into a seam in his plating as you come apart fisting his spike and he groans, overloading.

• “Star,” Thundercracker says, gesturing and Starscream’s wings flare slightly in annoyance. Doesn’t need his brother’s pity or want his compassion. He’s fine. He’s always been fine. Dimly aware of Skywarp slipping free of you and setting you on your little feet, he’s about to say something. And he freezes when you slide a warm hand over the plating of his arm, the fingers of the other hand tracing the edge of a wing. ‘Let me take care of you?’ You ask and he stiffens, except, it doesn’t sound condescending when you say it. Letting you pull him to the bed and you lay down, thighs spread.

• Servos slide against your jaw, one brushing your bottom lip, pressing down gently like he’s not sure what to make of your softness, but he’s hard, living metal. And his wings flare out when you nip at his servo, those red optics flashing in amusement before he palms your hips, releasing his spike and you arch when it slides against you. Finds and stretches you slowly as his jaw clenches. You’re still wound up from his brother when he begins moving against you. Unable to tear your eyes from the need on his too-human face or the way his body moves against yours. Still fascinated with the way your bodies fit together so well as he finds a rhythm. Hear his venting get louder as your own breathing quickens on a moan, his hips snapping urgently against you. Setting a demanding pace as he ruts against you and his servos dig into your hips hard enough there will probably be bruises. Rushing for that finish line, and you get left behind when he groans and shudders against you with his overload.

• Smiling indulgently as Star slips free of you and Thundercracker moves closer, sliding a palm against the outside of one of your trembling thighs. His own spike stirring at the sight of you slick with their releases and thoroughly claimed. Shifting against you, he buries himself inside you and you moan, arching, little hands clinging to him. “So, what do you think of my trine?” Thundercracker asks, nuzzling against your neck as his hips curl and lazily rock in no real hurry. Enjoying the warmth and softness of you, your slick heat wrapped around his spike. Risking a glance at his brothers and wondering if they need more convincing to keep you. They have the room for the night. Plenty of time.

Previous

Next

[luckygirlsyndrome1111]

One time I saw a blurb about how Aaron is definitely an ass man and would absolutely be into anal.

And it got me wondering why no one had written anything about that.

So here’s a little taste!

——————————————————————————

Aaron would never force you to do something you were even slightly uncomfortable with.

He prides himself on knowing you like the back of his hand, the slightest pinch of your face would tell him all he needed to know.

So when the topic of anal sex came into the conversation last night, Aaron had enough liquid confidence from the liquor you two had been drinking, to finally ask you if you have ever or would ever consider doing it.

You didn’t want to seem too adamant on it, so you let his question linger slightly before telling him flat out “Yes.”

To say Aaron was shocked truly was an understatement. Of course everyone has their own little kinks and fantasies but he never pegged you the kind to be into anal sex.

It turned him on immensely.

-

“Honey are you still absolutely sure you’re okay with this?” Aaron asked for the hundredth time that night.

You sighed both playfully and impatiently, “Aaron, you know how I am, if I didn’t want to do something I wouldn’t be doing it.”

Plus it seemed a little too late to back out now.

You were on all fours, back arched pushing your ass out. A bottle of lube on the bed, and also a towel.

The towel was your idea. When asked why you shyly told Aaron that you didn’t know exactly how your body would react to such an intense penetration, if you happened to squirt you didn’t want to mess up the expensive bedding.

Aaron was shaky, now from nerves or from how achingly hard and turned on he was he wasn’t too sure. All he knows is that you look ever so tempting with your perfect round ass and both holes on display for him.

You playfully shook your ass, “Come on old man, or what are you scared?” You teased. Aaron just smirked and spanked your ass.

“Scared of what? Huh? I know exactly how to get that mouth to stop running, don’t play with me.” Aaron replied back.

You grabbed the bottle of lube, squirted some into your hand and reached behind you to your hole and seductively rubbed around the ring of your asshole and gently pushed a finger in, putting on a show for him.

Once you felt your asshole was lubricated enough, you slowly ran your fingers down to your cunt, clenching around nothing and wet. You slipped in your middle and ring finger and pumped them in and out. “Fuck… Aaron please…”

Aaron had been quiet behind you truly just enjoying the show you had been putting on for him. His cock was absolutely swollen and ready to have a wet hole wrapped around it. He took his cock into his large veiny hand and pumped it in his hand a few times to make sure he was completely ready.

“Alright…I’m coming in sweet girl.” Aaron said to you through a whisper.

You braced your hands on the bed, arching even more and spreading your legs to give him more room.

Aaron released a shaky breath as he pushed the tip into your asshole. You closed your eyes as your mouth feel open and your hands gripped the sheets for leverage.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good…so tight for me, just for me.” He said pushing in more.

He felt you start to stiffen, he ran his hands up and down your sides to help soothe you. “Shhh your doing so good for me baby, so so good. I’m gonna push in some more okay?” You nodded too afraid to try and speak, you know nothing coherent would come out.

He pushed in, his cock now fully sitting in your hole. He was deep. So fucking deep. He hasn’t even properly fucked you and your already absolutely spent.

He sat there just feeling your asshole clench around him tightly. He knew once he started really fucking you he wasn’t going to last long.

“Aaron…move please, please fuck me.” you whimpered out, impatiently waiting for him to fuck you hard like you knew he would.

Aaron said nothing as he gripped onto your hips with a bruising force as his cock moved out your hole before slamming right back in. You moaned loudly before slapping a hand over your mouth, becoming incredibly aware of Jack a few rooms over sleeping.

He began properly fucking you, skin slapping against skin, Aaron’s soft grunts and breathless mumbles of praise, your mumbled whimpers and moans.

He picked up the pace, thrusting in you so fast you had to push your face into the sheets to silence your loud moans.

“Uh uh, don’t hide from me. Let me hear you naughty girl.” Aaron said teasingly, as he grabbed your hair with one hand and tugged your head back arching your back even more. He was aware you were trying to bad quiet because Jack was sleeping, but he knew he was out like light.

“Aaron, no! Jack- what if he wakes up?!” You were trying so hard to be a responsible step mother but Aaron was fucking into you so deep, at this point you truly didn’t care if he woke up or not. You just needed to cum.

He slumped his chest against your back and he began to pump in and out of you quicker. The hand still holding onto your hip gave your ass a harsh slap. He knew you were getting closer.

“Come on sweet girl, let go for me. I’m gonna cum so deep in this perfect ass, fuck.” Aaron said against the shell of your ear, all you could do was offer sobs in response.

He let go of your hair and let your head drip back down to the bed. That hand now reaching down and rubbing your clit just the way you like.

“Ah, oh my god fuck Aaron! Yes! Yes!” You screamed out, the pleasure you were experiencing was absolutely blinding. You felt the pit in your stomach build and build, but it felt different. It felt like you had to pee.

“Wait, wait Aaron- I think- I think I have to-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence as you got interrupted by liquid gushing out of your cunt. Completely drenching your thighs, the towel beneath you and Aaron’s hand which was still rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh, baby let it out, yeah let it all out for me.” He said as he continued his deep thrusts in your asshole and his assault on your clit. The liquid was still gushing out of you, releasing all the build up.

His hand slipped from your clit back to your hip as he felt the white hot pleasure building up in his stomach. “Shit, I’m gonna cum! Gonna fill up this hole, fuck you full of me, huh?” He said as he slammed into you.

He thrusted 3 more times before letting out a strangled grunt and releasing into your hole. You felt his hot cum spurt into you. Your head was still pressed into the mattress too exhausted to pick it up.

You felt Aaron pull his softening cock out of you, feeling his cum leak from your asshole.

Aaron just stared in proudness and amazement. Watching your gaping hole clench around nothing as his white cum dripped down your thigh.

You rolled yourself over and blatantly said, “We are definitely doing this again.”

——————————————————————————

First little fic! Sorry if it’s bad, if you have any tips or anything I’m open, also may be open to requests!

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Lady Luck is Smiling - Chapter Three

.☘︎ ݁˖ Misericors Fortuna Adiuvat- Fortuna favors the compassionate.

Summary: When the Fates leave Morpheus' call unanswered, he gains insight into another goddess that may be able to help regain his lost tools. Lady Luck, as you go by now as opposed to Fortuna nor Tyche, is the second youngest of the Four Ladies. Morpheus is determined to learn how and what makes you smile, for your smile will allow luck to be on his side, and with any of it, will he find his tools.

Warnings/Tags: Sometimes, you have to be cringe.

Word count: 3.6k

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Previous << || >> Next

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

“I said the Sandman, and guess what? The Sandman,” Mad Hettie officially presents Morpheus as Johanna walks up to you and him. There is a certain “I-told-you-so” tone to her voice that you chuckle at. 

“It’s good to have you back, milord, milady,” Hettie smiles happily, one that you return before she hobbles away. 

“My gran used to tell me stories about you lot,” Johanna says once Hettie is out of earshot. 

“I have known your family for centuries.” Morpheus confirms the stories with a single sentence. 

“Then you know there’s not one of us that can be trusted.” A moment of tense silence passes between them and you feel like a fly on the wall. “What do you want with me then?”

“I believe you may know something about a possession of mine. A leather pouch filled with sand, a helm made from the bones of a dead god, or a ruby made from my essence.”

“What makes you think I have any of it?”

“Do you not?”

Johanna sighs. She has—or she did come in contact with a leather pouch of sand. Though she has no idea how Morpheus figured that out. 

“I bought a pouch of sand at an estate sale a while back. Didn’t even manage to get the drawstrings open.”

Morpheus breathes out a deep sigh. Blessed be Lady Luck for you do smile upon him. He turns his head slightly, looking at you but you are rummaging through your brown paper bag for your hamburger instead. 

“What’s so important about your sand?” Johanna’s question brings his attention back to her instead. 

Your eyes dart back and forth between them. You feel like you’re at the movies—the sexual tension between them. Umph, so palpable. 

You chew your dry hamburger with great interest as Morpheus seizes into Johanna’s personal space, but you know she won’t back down. She’s far too stubborn for that. They bicker a bit more before you decide this was too much tension for you. 

With Morpheus so occupied, you simply wander off. It’s been a while since you’ve stepped outside your casino. You take in the breath of fresh air as if you were a recently released convict. Though, the prison you escaped from would have been one of your own doing. 

Your eyes wander around the empty pavilion, your mind so occupied with other thoughts you almost miss it. On a lone bench, a raven perches amongst the drab and rain. 

Do ravens live in London? You thought they just exist in forests or something. An odd shimmer of magic radiates from it as it judges you from the distance. 

“Hello,” it speaks. “I’m looking for—awk!”

You snatched the bird in one hand, the other still loyal to a half eaten burger. There’s no way you can’t show this to Morpheus. It’s a talking bird!

He’s still tensely conversing with Johanna when you barge yourself back into their conversation. 

“What is that?” Morpheus asks, looking down at your hands. 

“Um,” you look down as well. Why would he ask about that? “It’s a hamburger? Come on, you were there when we ‘bought’ this!”

Morpheus gives you an impatient look. “No, that.”

“Oh!” You hold up the captured bird. “I found a fucking talking bird!”

“You, release me. Heathen, barbaric, unhand me this instant!” The raven caws, his sharp beak pecking at the meat of your thumb. “I am here to find Dream of the Endless and I will not be stopped!” 

“Oop,” you mutter, then hold the raven higher to meet Morpheus’ eyes. 

“Who are you? Tell me your name,” Morpheus frowns. 

“It’s, uh, Matthew… sir.” ‘Matthew’ answers, bobbing his head as he swallows down his nerves. 

Morpheus takes a step back, an annoyed look crossing over his features. You analyze the look. It’s almost as if he was hoping it to be a regular raven, that your random ramblings were just that—random. 

“Matthew,” he tests the name like it’s a displeasing flavor amongst his tongue. “I have made it clear to Lucienne that I do not require a raven at this time.”

Matthew caws awkwardly. “Yeaaaahhhh,” he drags out. “She told me you would say that.”

“If I need assistance I will ask for it, but at this time…”

Your eyes connect with Johanna’s as she makes a quiet escape. You give her a discrete nod and a smile before returning your attention back to Morpheus’ and Matthew’s bickering. 

“But, sir, you do need my help. She’s—”

“Do not interrupt me, as I was saying. If I need—”

“She’s getting away, she’s… gone.” Matthew squirms uncomfortably in your grasp and you loosen it so that he could stand in your flat palms instead. “See, this is why you need a raven.” He mutters under his breath. 

Morpheus turns around, finding Johanna gone like the wind. The pavilion turns empty once more. 

“Go back to the Dreaming, Matthew,” Morpheus commands, annoyance rolling off him. 

The raven flies off your hands and perches on a bench again. You give it a wave goodbye before you’re inclined to follow a moping Morpheus. His strides are long as you stuff the rest of your half-eaten burger into your mouth. The excess grease on your hands gets wiped on your pants. 

You’re not going to say that it’s his fault that he lost Johanna, but you sure will think it. Though, you did let her slip away undisrupted so maybe it was partly your fault. But only partly. 

The two of you stop at a nearby park. It’s small, only a winding path with some trickling fountains and a bunch of leafless oak trees. A small chill ran through the late night and just the slightest hint of dawn was starting to creep over the horizon. 

A ladybug crawls over the edge of the stone fountain and you extend a finger so it could climb onto your hand. Odd, considering that ladybugs typically came out in the warmer hours of the day. 

“Hullo, miladyyy…” the little insect squeaks quietly, barely audible. 

“Why did you decline Matthew’s help?” You ask suddenly. 

“I do not see how this pertains to anything.”

“He is your raven, they are your familiars. Are they not?” You push. 

“The last raven that tried to help me died,” he bluntly answers. 

His eyes peel away from the ripple of the water to yours and the sorrow you find swirling within them is heavy. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Your little ladybug friend flutters off your finger and lands on his shoulder, six legs dancing away the tweed of his cosmic jacket. 

You understand, though. It’s like a punishment inflicted by himself for himself. He feels responsible for his raven dying—not for him, but because of him. In this notion of thinking, he denies himself any help, and believes that denying help will also save Matthew from meeting the same fate. 

But how can he know that, if Matthew is an entirely different raven and therefore will face an entirely different set of circumstances and fates?

Perhaps you would think about it more if something didn’t catch your eye. It’s hard to make out by the way the water ripples in the fountain. You hold your breath as you dunk your head into the cold water. You can hear Morpheus protesting, but the sound is muffled. 

Thankfully, your fingers manage to wrap around the object before he yanks you out of the water by the collar of your shirt. Your hair is dripping wet and it’s seeping into your clothes, but you don’t care. 

“One day I hope to understand anything that occurs within that flowery brain of yours.” Morpheus’ scorn rolls off your back like water on a duck. 

You hold up the coin to him with a proud smile. “Lucky penny,” you say simply. “And very shiny.”

“It’s a shilling,” he corrects you instead. The chance of you finding a coin that’s no longer in circulation nor minted is not lost on him. You really do represent the epitome of luck.

“Rare?”

Morpheus sighs. “Supposedly.”

“Lucky shilling,” you chuckle. “Shy-neigh, shinyyy~” you sing as you wave the coin around his face. 

You peek back over the fountain with a small smile. You do love your little trinkets. “Hey, what are the chances I find another one?” You challenge the universe.

“Incalculable,” Morpheus replies. 

“Oh, hello,” you mutter to yourself as your hand dips into the cold fountain water again. The smell of wet metal coins fill your nose as your finger wraps around yet another rare coin. “Nice,” you giggle to yourself. 

“Tada, another shiny coin,” you boast, holding up the two shillings to Morpheus. 

You begin to sing again. It’s horribly off tune and the lyrics don’t quite make sense but that’s okay. You were always better at dancing than singing. 

‘Found me a coin in a fountain, soaking in the wet Smells like cupronickel and old regret Shimmered in the moonlight, might be just my luck Two makes a pair and a pattern of… of… ducks? Yes, DUUUUUUUUUUUCKS!!’

“Stop.” Morpheus places his hand over your lips when you try to hit a high note that could’ve made a banshee jealous. 

The look on Morpheus’ face is insurmountable as you lick the palm of his hand in retaliation. It’s the most emotion you’ve seen on him yet. You frown at him as he still doesn’t move his hand and you go to lick at him again. Thankfully for both of your sake’s, he removes his hand before you resort to biting. 

There’s a tense moment of silence only accompanied by the sound of crickets. It doesn’t last long as your eyes notice Morpheus’ new raven reappearing in the night sky. “Oh, he’s back.”

Matthew flaps, quite loudly if you might add, and lands on the edge of the fountain you and Morpheus are resting by. You pull the small fast food brown bag from the pocket of your jacket, not wanting to get the remaining chicken nuggets dry. 

Matthew is like a breath of fresh air after what occurred in the church. His voice soothing like a nostalgic memory of a summer spent with a childhood friend. Though, you may have also found his presence amusing, simply for the fact of how easily he vexes Morpheus without much effort. 

“I’m back,” Matthew announces, and if he didn’t have a beak you’re sure you would’ve seen a sly smile on his lips. 

“Yes, I see that,” Morpheus responds, his body radiating annoyance like a broken dam. 

“Yeah, you told me to go back to the Dreaming, which I did and then I came back so,” Matthew caws, his head twitching in the weird way that birds often do. “Here I am!”

“Go back to the Dreaming, Matthew,” Morpheus commands again.

“I can’t. The boss lady—”

“If you speak about Lucienne, she is not your master. I am, and I am commanding you to return to the Dreaming.” Morpheus’ words are starting to become clipped, his tone taking something deeper than mere annoyance. 

“But I can help, I’ve lived here my whole life and I know my way around—I smell chicken nuggets.” Matthew pauses, his head jerking around as his beady little eyes try to find the smell. 

“That’s me, here.” You open the paper bag, digging out the small cardboard box of nuggets that you “bought” for Morpheus earlier that night. 

“Ooo, thank you,” Matthew says, flipping the box open with his beak before eating a nugget whole. “Man, I miss thumbs… these are so dry.”

“Don’t complain, I got them for free,” you boast. 

“Anyway,” Matthew continues, taking another nugget. “So we got to find Johanna but we don’t know where she lives, right? She couldn’t have gotten far with just her legs.”

“I know where she lives,” you say with a shrug. 

Morpheus turns to you slowly, the smallest hint of bafflement on his brows. “You failed to bring this up.”

“You didn’t ask,” you retort back, a little sass in your tone. 

“We depart, now,” Morpheus demands, his hands reaching out for your temple again. You didn’t have time to protest, much like the last time Morpheus and you traveled by sand. 

You can feel his presence inside your mind, carding through your knowledge like a file cabinet until he finds what he is looking for. When you open your eyes this time, however, you find yourself in a dream. Morpheus guides you forward with a hovering hand behind your back, needing you not to wander or stray. 

The hallway is barren but smells the same as when Johanna banished Agilieth a few hours ago. The sulfur smell is more intense this time around and there is an undeniable heat that comes from beyond the door. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim, holding your hand in front of your eyes when Morpheus opens the door.

The bright flash of hellish fire dries your skin immediately and makes your irises burn with the intensity of the flame. Morpheus’ hand grabs onto your arm, holding you steady as the portal seems to have your body gravitate towards it. The Dreamscape is merciless to anyone who isn’t Morpheus himself. 

You can hear Johanna chanting in Latin, the words tumbling out of her lips with practiced ease. The portal grows weaker the longer she chants the incantation but something catches your attention from the corner of your eye: a child.

Instinctively you step forward, knowing the dangers that could happen, but Morpheus’ grip on your arm only tightens. 

“No,” he says firmly. “We cannot interfere.”

“But, the child. She will—” Your own words are cut off with a gasp as a tendril of fire wraps itself around her ankle, dragging her to hell’s door. 

You can feel the panic in the air, tense and heavy against your ribcage as Johanna grabs her, the exorcist’s chanting growing more desperate. The gate closes and all that’s left is sticky humidity and a dismembered arm of said child. 

That nauseating feeling you’ve come to associate with Morpheus’ sand teleportation magic curdles in your stomach again, or perhaps it is the smell of burnt iron that leaves your tongue heavy and your mouth dry. 

Morpheus closes the door to the dream, or perhaps it was a nightmare, but it doesn’t end. The door opens again and the scene changes to something you’re all too familiar with: your casino. 

You remember this night specifically and you’re wondering whose memories Morpheus is going through, yours or Johanna’s. Johanna’s sitting across from you on the poker table, her eyes lidded from the overconsumption of alcohol and you stared her dead in the eyes as she so gracefully looks at the new cards she’s dealt. 

The dream is a muffled mess but you remember the conversation well anyway, your curiosity spiked that day. You wanted to know why she was so down in the dumps, why she was wasting her life away at a casino instead of performing another exorcism. But you never turned her away, money was money, right? 

“Tell you what, Constantine,” you remember saying to her. “If I win this next round, you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Alright,” Johanna says, her words raspy and she sits back with her arms crossed. “And if I win, what do I get?”

You think for a moment before fishing out your necklace from underneath your shirt. “This.”

“Game is on.”

In the end, you lost the bet and you never knew why Johanna came to your casino. All you did know is that she left your casino with $50,000 and your prized possession. All things considered, why did you give her that necklace?

For luck maybe. 

The scene blurs and when you blink, you’re back in the waking world, staring down at a panicked Johanna. Your stomach lurches as you transverse realms again and you and Johanna share a brief look. There was a sudden understanding of why she wanted to bet it all that night at your casino. The life of a child, it’s burnt blood on her hands. 

“Fuck me, you guys just come in through the chimney or something?” Johanna scoffs, clearly displeased. 

Morpheus doesn’t bother with an answer and for that you’re grateful. He didn’t sweep you under the rug, telling her he found her through your shared dreams. Memories, more accurately. 

“You were dreaming.” A half-truth. 

“Apparently,” Johanna responds, her eyes returning to yours. She recalls the necklace you gave her, the one with the little charm on it. 

“It wasn’t a dream, but a memory that keeps you from a restful sleep,” Morpheus states and Johanna doesn’t try to deny it. “I can make it go away.”

“If I help you find your sand, right? Always the transactions with you two. Or is it all deities that are like that?” Johanna’s tone comes out accusatory and you internally wince. She’s not wrong, you accept offerings and sometimes if something catches your attention, you return the favor to the mortals. It is very transactional. “I’ll go look in my office.”

Morpheus follows her and she doesn’t try to protest, throwing a comment about how much messier it is in her office than it is in the living room. You wish she told you that sooner before you tripped over a net made out of silver threads that Johanna had haphazardly placed in front of the door to her office. 

“How do you humans love objects so much?” Morpheus judges, carefully stepping over the netting that nearly took your ankles out. 

“Says the Endless who keeps a raven, how many rocks does your new pal bring back to the Dreaming?” Johanna cracks a joke, skillfully avoiding the question. “Plus, you seem quite obsessed with finding your sand.”

“The sand is not an object, but a part of me.” As Morpheus explains, you explore the small office space. 

When Johanna isn’t looking, you place your take-out bag on one of the surfaces before trailing your finger across the table, dust collecting on the tip before you flick it away. 

Johanna has a little bit of everything. Tools of her trade but also she liked to collect a few other things as well. Silver bullets, maps, doubloons—there was a golden sekhem that once belonged to Pharaoh Thutmose II of Egypt that hung on the wall and right next to it was… damn she still had your necklace after all. 

‘Your artifact is reduced to mere wall decoration,’ your constant demeaning companion whispers in your mind. 

“If your sand was so important to you then how did you lose it?” Johanna’s question brings you back into their conversation, your ears perking as you listen discreetly. Morpheus never did tell you why he needed your help. You only said yes because of that pretty snake he gave you. And also you didn’t really get a choice once he sand-ported you. 

“It was stolen from me,” Morpheus defends. “By another magic user named Burgess.”

“Well, not Rodrick Burgess?” Johanna says with a slight laugh in her tone, her hands still busy digging through her things. “Everyone used to call him a fake. The good ol’ demon king himself. He used to boast that he kept the devil locked up in the basement.”

“Yeah, right,” you pipe in. “Like Lucifer would ever do that.”

“Right?” Johanna agrees, briefly turning to you before a realization hits her. “Oohhh… shit. It wasn’t the devil in his basement was it?”

“What?” You ask, following her eyes as they hold Morpheus’ gaze. 

The way Morpheus tries to hold back the memories is like a punch to your gut. His eyes redden with unshed tears as he tries to maintain that regal air about him. 

“Shit.” Both you and Johanna say at the same time. 

It was definitely not the devil locked up in the basement. A tense silence follows and for once you see Morpheus not as this arrogant, cocky Endless who demands what he wants and gets it, but something else. Trauma follows everyone, not just mortals and he is starting to slip away, back into that dangerous place in his mind again. 

“Johanna,” you interrupt, standing in front of Morpheus to pull her attention away from him. “The sand?”

Johanna looks away, Morpheus turning into a shadow and merging into the dimly lit room. You could still feel his presence, hear the slightly shaky breath he inhales into his lungs, but you purposefully keep your attention towards Johanna, holding her attention to you and not to Morpheus. 

Her eyes gleam with realization as her gaze locks onto a small picture in a basket of other trinkets. Johanna takes a deep breath, the shuddering similar to Morpheus’. “Yeah, I know where it is.”

Johanna brushes past you, her eyes determine as she grabs her creamy coat. You let out a deep breath, your shoulders still tense as you look into the shadows in which Morpheus is still submerged. 

You reach for the wall. Now that Johanna is gone, you yank your necklace from the nail that it hung from, feeling the slight tang of magical energy re-entering your system as the artifact reunites with its original owner. 

Tit for tat. You take your necklace back and in return, you give her the greasy fast food bag you’ve been hauling around all night. 

Even after fastening the necklace, Morpheus still doesn’t step out, his face back to the unreadable neutral expression. You have so many questions you want to ask, so many answers you could’ve had if you didn’t go into hiding. But now was not the time nor place. His sand is close. 

You reach for him but hesitate. Does Morpheus like to be touched? You don’t take the chance to find out. Instead, you reach for the sleeve of his coat, feeling the cosmic thread on your fingertips. You give a small pull and Morpheus reluctantly comes out of the shadows. 

“Come on, big guy. Let’s get your sand,” you murmur and he follows behind you. 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

I cringed hard writing that singing scene, I hope you know that. I'm sorry I had to put you through that Y/N, but it's in your nature. We are cringe, but we are free.

♡ Yours, Layla

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

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[sunny44]

Passenger princess

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Secret girlfriend!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Y/n releases her new song and the guy in the music video shocks everyone.

Inspired by the song Passenger Princess by Nessa Barrett.

Yourusername Instagram post

Liked by @dualipa, @charlesleclerc, @lewishamilton and others 9183891

@Yourusername Passenger Princess next weeeek 🏁🏎️

@lewishamilton can’t wait to listen

@yourusername I think you’ll like it

@dualipa yesss queen

@user91 I’m so exited to see the music video

@landonorris nice hair

@charlesleclerc counting the days to listen

Liked by @yourudername

@user0172 we can see that the f1 drivers are Y/n’s fans

The release of the *Passenger Princess* music video was about to happen, and I felt the nerves as if it were my first project. It wasn’t just the fact that it was a new song, but the fact that my boyfriend would be in the video, and people, besides not knowing we're together, would freak out once they saw the video and realized it was him.

I still remember when I suggested the idea of him participating.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/n,” he said, laughing, as we sat on my couch. Charles always seemed to find a way to make any moment fun, even when I was being completely serious.

“I’m serious! You’d be perfect for the role,” I replied, crossing my arms, pretending to be impatient. “The song is about a girl who loves being the passenger in her boyfriend’s car. Who better for that than my boyfriend, who happens to be one of the best Formula 1 drivers in the world?”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it literally has to be your boyfriend,” he said, still laughing.

“Fine, but don’t complain after seeing me kiss and sit on some other guy’s lap in a skirt.” I said indifferently, and he immediately pulled me into his lap, kissing my face all over, making me laugh.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” He sighed, still smiling. “No one’s kissing your lips but me.”

“I knew you’d agree,” I said, and he kissed my face several more times.

“You know this is going to cause a storm, right?”

I knew. I knew the internet would go wild when they saw Charles as the lead in my video. But what they didn’t know was that Charles and I had been together for two years, and so far, no one had figured it out.

“I know, but just because you’re in the video doesn’t actually mean you’re my boyfriend. It’s just a role.”

“Alright then.”

Now, two months after we shot the video, the moment of the premiere had arrived.

The song was released last night, and people were already freaking out. Today, we were at the Monza paddock, where I’d be spending the weekend with Charles.

He was nervous, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

“Do you think they’ll notice we weren’t acting?” he asked quietly, as we sat in one of the areas reserved for the drivers, watching the preparations for the race.

I smiled.

“They’ll probably suspect and ship us because of the video, but if we don’t give any signs that we’re actually dating, they won’t be sure, love.”

Deep down, I knew the fans would go crazy. The song was already a hit, and the fact that Charles was the male lead in the video would only increase their curiosity. But our relationship had always been just ours. No speculations, no gossip.

The video was finally released, and as we stood in the Ferrari garage, surrounded by engineers, mechanics, and, of course, other drivers, I smiled as I heard my voice and looked up at a large screen where the video started playing.

I couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly how we had imagined it. Charles, next to me, shook his head with a small, restrained smile. His eyes met mine, and I could see how much he was enjoying everyone’s reaction.

The video showed scenes of the two of us, him driving a Ferrari while I sang, having fun beside him. The scenes of us exchanging knowing looks were filled with a naturalness that few could fake. Because, of course, we weren’t faking.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” Lando appeared in front of us. “How did you get Charles to do this?”

“I just thought he’d be perfect for the role and, with a lot of effort, I convinced him,” I replied, trying to keep my tone casual.

“Uh-huh, sure...” Lando muttered, glancing back and forth between Charles and me. Before he could say anything else, Pierre Gasly appeared with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Hey, Charles, since when are you an actor?” Pierre teased, giving Charles a light punch on the shoulder.

“Since Y/n convinced me to do it,” he answered, still maintaining his calm tone. But I knew how much he was enjoying this whole situation.

The confusion only grew as the day went on. The video was an instant hit, and soon, comments on social media started pouring in.

#YnCharles was trending, and theories about a possible romance between us wouldn’t stop appearing. The paddock was in constant buzz, full of journalists and fans speculating whether something was going on between me and Charles.

Charles and I exchanged discreet glances and smiles while keeping our secret. We had gone through this before, watching people try to guess what was happening between us. But we had always kept everything private, just for the two of us.

By the end of the day, as the sun set over Monza, Charles and I found a moment of privacy in the Ferrari motorhome. He pulled me into a hug, kissing the top of my head.

“So, do you think they’ll figure it out now?” he whispered.

“I think it’s just a matter of time before someone connects the dots.”

Charles looked at me for a moment, his green eyes shining with that soft expression he always had when it was just the two of us.

“I don’t care if they find out anymore, Y/n. I’m tired of hiding. I just want people to know you’re mine.”

My heart skipped a beat hearing that. We had always been so careful, so reserved. But I knew Charles was right. We couldn’t keep hiding forever.

“Maybe it’s the right time,” I said, holding his face in my hands. “But until then, let’s let them have fun with their theories.”

Charles smiled, pulling me closer. “Two years together, and still no one suspects.”

“We’re good at this,” I joked, kissing him lightly.

As we embraced there, away from the curious eyes of the paddock, I knew that when the secret finally came out, we’d be ready.

F1gossip Instagram post

“Everyone was shocked to see our Lord Perceval Charles Leclerc in the new music video of singer Y/n Y/l/n’s. In the music video, Y/n is the passenger of Charles Leclerc’s Ferrari and they act like a very sexy couple.

Who else has never imagined Charles doing something like this?”

Read the full articule in the link in our bio.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Yes, I’m a passenger princess”

[dollescentbaby]

CW; breeding k!nk, slight choking k!nk, very rough and dark!abby. That’s all I can really think of, have fun!

Authors note:

Dni if ageless, under 18 or a man!!

Thank you for reading this, this is my first ever time writing a fic, if I need to do anything to improve please let me know! This is the raw unedited version and I hope you enjoy

Love yall!

You have never been so bored, so horny. Abby was at the gym and you had nothing to do except lay on the bed and wait around. You groan and you grumble when an idea pops into your mind. Sure, it’s dumb and possibly dangerous. You decide to give Abby a call. Calls are only reserved for emergencies but you being this horny should count as one. The phone rings and you are met with no answer. You try again about 4 more times before she answers. “Is it an emergency?!” She sounds panicked. “I’m horny and I need you.” You respond back. She’s furious. “Really? Are you serious? Fuckin’ wait until I’m home” she hangs up the phone and you got the answer you expect, but not the one you wanted. You wanted her to speed home and fuck you the moment she walks in the door. You begin to grow impatient and start to touch yourself, you pick up your phone and take a picture, sending it to Abby. You know it will drive her mad and it will get you in trouble, but maybe that’s the fun of it. You don’t receive a message back, she only leaves you on read. It’s what you would expect from her but still, you wish you could see her face when she received the picture. About 10 minutes later you hear the door slam and a heavy bang of her gym bag on the floor. The sound of footsteps filling your ears along with the fast thump of your heart. You know you’re in deep shit. The door slams open and you feel hands wrap around your ankles and pull you towards the end of the bed. The blonde girl sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and then props you over her knee. You know what’s about to happen. And you know it’s going to hurt and there will be no mercy. “Fucking whore. You couldn’t wait hm? You wanted to get punished didn’t you? So fucking stupid.” She strikes your ass open palmed with a thwack. “Answer me you little shit. You wanted this?” Your mind races, barely able to form coherent thoughts. “Y-yes” you finally mumble out before another blow meets your round, and now red ass. She grabs you by your hair and throws you onto the bed, your ass up in the air, facing her. She places her cold hand against your spine and pushes down, making you arch. Without warning she licks a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your hole. She slurps up all your juices mercilessly. She kneads your ass and smacks it once more before grabbing you by your neck and pulling your back to her chest, you let out a small whimper and a yelp. “You gonna be a good girl and listen to me? Huh, princess?” Her hot breath tickling your ear and your neck. She pushes you with full force back against the bed before she stands back up. You already know what she’s going to grab, you don’t have to see to know what’s going on. You hear her rummage through the closet before pulling out a black box. She pulls out a breeding strap and buckles it to her hips. She sits back on the bed and without warning she slams deep into you, immediately hitting your cervix. You let out a loud yelp and your back arches upward. It hurts, the immediate impact to your insides. She doesn’t care, she keeps going and continues to pound fastly into you. “God, so fucking tight. Look how this pussy just swallows and begs for my cock.” She whispers in between thrusts. You can feel her hips start to falter and her breaths get quicker, you know she is about to cum, and so are you. You’re quick to get to the edge just before she runs her finger over your clit, rubbing tight circles. It makes you cum instantly, you let out a loud moan of pleasure, “good fucking girl, just wait, I need to cum..” she’s overstimulating you, chasing her own release, and just as she cums, you feel a warm fluid filling your insides, you can feel it drip down your thighs, she pulls out in awe, seeing the cum drip out of your wet and puffy pussy. She is quick to take off the strap and grab you water. “Here, drink” she passes you the water and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your forehead. “Was I too rough? Are you ok? I’m sor-“ you cut her off with a kiss to shut her up “it was perfect my girl, I love you”

[eloquentlytired]

18+mdni

— full.

pairing: biker!syverson x fem reader

word count: 4k

warnings: semi public sex, raw, breeding, dirty talk

author's note: wanted to pair it w the gif but it got flagged 🥲 I used an ss of it in the edit (3d icon). it's from a movie called Lorelei and the character reminds me of sy!

you're not invisible but sometimes you're just there. your girlfriends are giggling about things you don’t relate to — about boyfriends. about sex. you suck on your straw, although your milkshake is by far gone, because you're too deep in thought to realize it.

there's silence and then you realize the waiter is standing before you. did they order something else? you release the straw with a faint pop when you realize he's looking at you and suddenly there's another milkshake on the table like the one you had finished drinking moments ago. “he said uhm—” the waiter stutters over his words anxiously and you kind of feel sorry for him. “he said it's a gift to occupy your mouth” and then he's leaving without any other information about whoever it is that treated you.

your girlfriends seem more excited than you do because your interest overpowers all excitement. your eyes scan the bar and take in every possible suspect, it isn't packed since it's not a busy day. everyone seems normal or they're too good at acting nonchalant. until you spot them — a pair of blue eyes watching over your every move possible ever since you entered this establishment. your breath hitches and although you have no clue of who the man is, you just know the tasty gift is from him. his stare forces you to clench your thighs as you take him in — piercing eyes, ungroomed beard and a shaved head. the sleeveless leather he's wearing makes him even more intimidating but it isn't fear that you experience upon exchanging glances with him. the stranger eventually gets up, muttering something to the other men in his table, and walks away. you follow.

“ya’ know, it ain't real kind to leave gifts unattended like that.” you turn so fast that you have to grip the sink behind you to not lose balance. “w-what?” the blue eyed man scans you from head to toe as he takes a step forward, towering over you. “the milkshake. ya didn't drink it.” you aren't sure where to look — his eyes, his lips, that beard. or maybe those large tattooed arms that looked like they're not afraid to handle you. you try to take a step backwards but the sink digs into your waist and you gasp. “i... i’m full.” the man laughs loudly and you realize he's amused while you're utterly taken aback by the situation. “full? have you any idea what it takes to be full?” his gaze darkens and you swallow as your heartbeat reaches your ears. you don't get him but you're about to.

the message in his words becomes obvious when sy’s hand clutches the side of your waist while the other hand lifts your leg to slide it around his body. “there we go. what a sweet girl you are.” he rasps as he slides his cock inside your pussy and all you can do is whimper as your walls wrap around him too tightly because it's been a while. and oh he's so thick. “gonna move now. gonna show ya what full really feels like,yea?” he doesn't wait for your reply as he draws back until only the tip of his cock is breaching your entrance. you stare at him with those wide eyes of yours and he can tell you're excited but also nervous. he lowers his head to supposedly kiss you but brushes his beard against your cheek instead and the action makes you smile. your smile turns into a silent ‘o’ because he's thrusting his cock inside you then, inch by inch, until you've swallowed most of him and his tip is kissing your deepest parts. and gods you get it now because this is what makes you full. this completes you.

your hands grip his leather jacket as he fucks you, feeling every inch of his thick cock splitting you open without any mercy. he’s impatient and he deserves this — he deserves this ever since you've walked into the bar and drawed his attention. “so fucking pretty. so wet too.” he growls and grounds his hips against yours while your pussy flutters around him when he starts pressing wet kisses across your neck. “made my whole day, baby. come here.” you can't even think straight as he presses his lips into yours and kisses you. he fucks you like he hates you but he kisses you like you're his favourite sweet. your mouth parts for him willingly and you let his tongue devour you, the taste of your drink still lingering in your pretty mouth. “please.” you find yourself muttering between open mouthed kisses and deep thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. each time the man thrusts his hips forward, his skin slaps against yours painfully. it burns and you enjoy every moment. “please what? use your words baby.” you whine in protest and he rolls his hips punishing slow to make you feel the entire stretch his cock offers to your pussy. “want to come- want to be full-” you say and he smiles because this is good, you're a fast fucking learner. he grins, teeth on full display, as he picks up the pace and slams his cock directly into the spot that clouds all your senses. you arch your back and your breasts are squished against his chest, pebbled nipples brushing on him and making him lose his mind. “you sit so kindly. pretending to be good.” you want to protest and say that you are good but his hand clutches your hip and pushes you down on his cock as he thrusts up. “sipping on your milkshake. so sweet,aren't ya?” it's like you can't think anymore when his other hand slides from your hip to your swollen clit and starts rubbing there deliciously. the drag of his cock is heavenly and his eyes can't help but take a peak between your bodies whereas you're connected. it's difficult to not cum just by the sight of your wetness coating his bare cock but he holds back to care for you first. you cum with a cry around his cock and his fingers stay on your clit, toying around with it until you feel so oversensitive. “no more— can't do more!” you protest but he's silencing you with a kiss again while dragging his cock in and out of you, the sight of your unshed tears bringing him closer to the edge. “course ya can — fuck — come on. one more, baby.” and you really don't want to disappoint this big man as he places both of his hands on your hips and holds you flat on the sink, driving his cock exactly where it should be. you don't know how long it takes you to get there but you're squeezing around him again as you orgasm and this time he doesn't hold back either. his chest crashes against yours as he empties himself inside you, burying his face into your neck, and you can feel his cock faintly pulse within you. you're spent as he pulls his cock out of you and helps you stand properly, his hands still resting on your hips. “thank you.” you mutter almost shyly as you fix yourself and your clothing — just enough to look presentable. he does the same although his eyes never leave yours and you can tell that he has things to say. “ya got a paper on ya?” his question surprises you but you shake your head. “scuse me for this then.” he mumbles as he fishes a marker out of his trousers. you want to question him but you don't need to when he's grabbing your arm gently and writes on your skin with the marker. “in case you want another milkshake.” he says with a wink and he's out the door before you know it.

you stare at your marked arm. then at the phone number. and then at the giant syverson written on your skin.

your week is bound to be full.

[rini-yaki]

Zoey x Trans Fem reader, where Reader intentionally make it hard for Zoey to know 'is that my old friend? Am I imagining it?' Since they haven't seen each other in several years, reader decides to troll her. The rest of huntrix knows what reader is doing and have been asked not to reveal it, same for Bobby who has provided all the needed VIP passes and tickets.

Fluffy and friendly gaslighting, bulletpoint headcanons, your choice on romantic or platonic

Familiar Stranger

ꕥ HELP THIS IS SUCH A SILLY IDEA ANON...

mtf! reader x zoey, developing relationship

200+ FOLLOWER EVENT

You were always a sly dog, weren’t you?

Okay, so, you were going to visit Korea for Huntrix’s big concert there, and not to brag or anything- but you knew Zoey from Huntrix! The two of you were two peas in a pod back when she still lived in America.

Really quickly on why you were feeling mischievous as VIP greetings grew close was because over the years the two of you have been apart, you’ve been changing a lot physically. Maybe you had surgery, maybe shots, regardless of what you have done, you looked different from before, and you knew that Zoey wasn’t all that perceptive all the time. She just knew you were trans.

So your plan was to troll her, see how long she can go on normally before realizing that you were you.

This plan was foolproof. You couldn’t stop grinning.

You got in touch with Mira, Rumi, and Bobby so they wouldn’t be surprised when you advanced Zoey so casually, Bobby was so excited for the two of you to reunite through such funny circumstances that he had given your VIP tickets for thirty percent off!

The concert passes, you nearly lose your voice from belting Zoey’s verses, but you visit the bathroom before the meet and greet happens, freshen your makeup and overall self, buzzing with excitement as your moment arrives.

After some very impatient waiting, you meet her. You see her, and she sees you.

You both stare at each other, from her expression alone, you see the gears turning in her head, you pause- ‘crap, is my plan for nothing..’ your smile grows a little stiff.

“Hiiiii! Thank you for coming!” Her peppy voice cuts through your doubts, whatever flicker of emotion you saw before was erased, it wasn’t much of a genuine smile, it wasn’t like the ones she’d give you back at school.

But to further your trolling plans, you decide to pull out your phone that had a polaroid of the two of you from graduation, grinning brightly, but Zoey only manages a second long look at it before you tear her attention away from it.

“Hello! I’ve been a fan since 20XX!”

Zoey pauses, that’s a year before Huntrix released their first work as a girl group. 

Mira sucks in a breath from her side, trying not to give you away, but the blank- loading screen-esque look in Zoey’s eyes was too comedic.

Rumi lets out a low chuckle, finding amusement in the very same thing.

“Oh…” This is when Zoey decides to think before saying something general because something was definitely different about you. When you smiled at her, your eyes and face would move in a familiar- almost nostalgic way.

So she decides to fight back her insecurity as you opened your camera app, you walked closer to her to get you both in a selfie.

“Can I have a picture?” She short circuits, “Oh! Sure!” You grin, and her heart twists in an old way.

You brought your phone up to frame you both inside, you did a face and hand sign you were doing in your graduation photo that was in your phone case, it throws Zoey a bit off her game.

The two of you settled in frame, Zoey posing herself, you snapped on picture.

“Oh by the way, I’m [Name].”

She pauses for a moment, eyebrows knitted together as she connects the dots, she looks at you in the screen frame.

Then she squeals.

“OH MY GOD, [NAME?!??!]”

Mira, Rumi, and Bobby all turn to her, her eyes and expression brighter than ever, her grin is infectious as you smile as well, basking in her enthusiasm.

You laughed as she started basically rapping about how grateful she is because you came all the way to Korea just for their concert.

Within the short time you could spend with her, she scribbles her number and hands it to you, in the meantime, she and you both squeal about how cute you’ve both gotten. 

Eventually, you explain that surprising her was the whole plan, and she laughs and playfully punches you for it.

After you left the venue, you sent her the pictures of the two of you, three of them.

One was normal, both smiling and posing cutely.

Second was the initial shock, you were posing normally still while Zoey looked visibly confused.

The last was the confusion fading away and the realization settling in, a bright and slightly smudged smile on her face as she moved very quickly when you took the photo.

She replies a moment later with an old photo of you two, the same two people in the frame, but some years apart, you smiled.