#if a song will define a group then the song will be passed around and played and mentioned naturally

[mbat]

i hate when people say that a song is an anthem for a group of people because like, if it is one, then it will just be one

like, people shouldnt need to say 'did i just create the new ___ anthem??' or 'omg guys we have a new anthem!!'

especially cause people say it about songs that arent that different from literally any other song/about songs that have nothing to do with anything ??

[wakeup01]

buttslut

If you had asked Dante whether he would ever bottom, 1, he would probably punch you. And 2, he would insist that topping gays was just something 100% straight men like him did. And he’d say it with…well, with a ‘straight’ face. It was a display of superiority and power, an act to show people their place. He wouldn’t be seen dead bent over, presenting his rear. The mere idea disgusted him, a fact he made very clear when loudly talking to his recently made friend, Cris, inside the local inclusive night club.

An unlikely friendship that only came about from bumping into each other while Dante was taking selfies in the college bathrooms. Something of a regular past time, as Cris quickly learned. Even in a public place, Dante didn’t miss the opportunity to admire his own body, smirking as several gay guys around him turned to get a glimpse. Maybe that was the only real reason he agreed to come along. Then again, he was capable of being kindhearted, in his own special way.

“You see those pathetic ‘guys’ earlier? Practically begging to be shown what a real man can do.” Dante commented, chugging down the rest of his beer. Blatantly ignoring the warning hanging on the wall which stated ‘discrimination will not be tolerated’. Yes. Kind. In his *own* special way. “You get me?”

“Uh huh...” Cris sheepishly replied, trying to hold back a wince. Looking down with disappointment, his eyes tearing up slightly. Now definitely wasn’t a good time to reveal that he was actually trans. Maybe when the sun was about to implode, yes, that seemed like a more appropriate occasion.

Dante was a somewhat typical douchebag jock in most respects, keen to display his dominance and superior body to anyone with a hole to fill. A fuckstick with a guy - rather inconveniently, attached. Dante pushed out his perfectly sculpted chest and flexed his rippling muscles while he made his openly deriding remarks as a group passed him by. Deliberately yelling over the obnoxious club song that was blaring overhead. Cris merely laughed nervously, ashamed to admit his infatuation with Dante’s body - adjusting his trousers as his dick unconsciously rose to attention at Dante’s confident voice.

“Christ, your drink looks kinda fruity. You should try some of mine.” He lifts a glass and holds it out.

“Maybe later, do you want to go dance? I kinda dig this Charli…song.” Cris’ voice peters out at the expression shot in their direction. “Maybe not, huh.”

Unfortunately for Dante, the patrons and staff weren’t too keen on his ‘colourful’ choice of words, especially when starting to talk about ‘butt sluts’, as he put it. A bit of glitter blown in his direction was all that was needed to kickstart a change in perspective. Cris watched with wide eyes as he witnessed his toxic crush’s language and demeanour gradually adjust in front of him.

Dante attempted to brush away the glitter that somwhow got all over him. “The fu—fudge is this gay shi—shizzle!” Instead he only managed to spread it everywhere, speeding up the adjustments. Dante took another sip of beer and scrunched his nose up at the taste, pushing the drink aside. His stiff and once proud stature grew limp, hips swaying to the rhythm of the club music. The plethora of swears and insults softened into a series of enthusiastic lisps and giggles. His deep voice changing pitch one word at a time. “This soOOoong s—slaps, like, a totes banger!” Dante shouts out, to his friends amusement.

“But I thought you hated this—“

“Uhhhh, as if!” Dante’s whiney intonation quickly interjects, somewhat unbefitting of the muscled body it came from, his defined pecs still pushing out against the thin fabric of his tank top.

A warm insatiable itch caused Dante to absently remove his top and shorts, revealing a jockstrap cupping his bubbly rear - which quickly doubled in mass as it comically splayed out beneath him. A result of the rainbow glitter sticking to his sweaty body. The rest of him remained built like a tank, wide shoulders and thick thighs. A meaty chest glistening under the flickering lights of the club. He was so hot, but not just in appearance. The drunken stupor had fully gripped his easily manipulated mind. Everything around him suddenly seemed soo funny.

“Gawd, my butt’s, like, pretty big. Weird. Heehee.” Dante points out, turning slightly to show Cris, causing his cheeks to wobble. “Do girls even want big butts on guys?”

“Well…I…” Cris stammers, blushing bright red at the image of his ultra masculine friend shaking his butt while effeminately biting his lip.

“Like suuuper big and…” Internally Dante was unaware of his out of character behaviour, unquestioning as his brutish dominance was purged, replaced by adorably bratty submissiveness. He was the same old Dante deep down, just…happier. And sluttier. His body unconsciously began to gyrate to the heavy bass throbbing in his head. All he noticed was the growing need centred around his tight hole. His fingers cautiously touched the jiggly mound of flesh weighing him down from behind. Dante’s eyes filled with lust as he stared at his friend Cris, noting the sight of him and all the other hot men around him. A pleasurable sigh escapes his pursed lips.

“Big and…empty.”

A couple minutes of character growth later, members of staff arrived to offer Dante ‘vip status’ at the club. A program they had setup to deal with any ‘troublemakers’. Dante didn’t mind however, and agreed instantly. Cris followed as he got directed out the back door towards his new station, taking his position as a public relief hole. Leaning against the wall as the cool night air brushed against his bare skin. All the while he was incapable of keeping his hands off his rear, feeling it up without a second thought as onlookers watched. Dante simply nodded along dimly while the club’s manager explained that he was about to be fucked and used repeatedly to atone for his remarks. That once he has filled his quota, he and his twerkable bubble butt would become the club’s next permanent dancer.

Dante smiles and says “mmkay” while pushing his hands against the wall and widening his legs - staring blankly ahead. “Like this?” There was a little sign above his head that simply read ‘hole’ with an arrow pointing down. Just in case it wasn’t clear.

Cris made sure he was first in line to try out the new resident ‘butt slut’. He positions himself behind Dante, and struggles to hold back a laugh at the sight of the once bigoted jock willingly preparing to get dicked. He definitely liked him a lot more like this - the same muscled physique, but without the crude superiority complex. Their friendship was sure to hit new heights.

“Ready? Let me show you what a ‘real man’ can do.” Cris says with a newfound sense of confidence. Playfully, he spins Dante’s baseball cap around and places his hands across the himbo’s rear, parting his huge round cheeks to show off the cherry he was about to pop - before the rest of the club would inevitably leave him gaping.

“Mm.” Is all Dante can muster before Cris’s cock forcefully stretches him open and leaves him moaning like the natural cock hungry bottom he now was. “Don’t—don’t stawwwp babe!”

[her-favorite]

LIVE NOW; M. STURNIOLO

MATT STURNIOLO X F!READER

warnings: SMUT, (soft)dom!matt/sub!reader, one night stand, praise kink, MATT THE MUNNCHHH!!!

wc: 4,860

a/n: REQUESTED! - guys i only specified the drink bc one of the lyrics is “been drinking something blue” which is apparently a cocktail so that’s why!! - ALSO i obvi know the triplets are from boston, but for the sake of this story (and for it obviously being fiction) and it matching up with the song, a lot of it isn’t matched up to their lives/living arrangements!!

SYNOPSIS: When you and your friends make plans to go to the bar, the last thing you expected to see was a man that captivated you so dangerously.. another thing you didn’t see coming was the way you immediately fell for him..

taglist!: @chrissv4mp (i hope you like it 🫶🏻) @mattybsgroupie @jetaimevous @emotionalblues @y0urval3ntine @mattstrombolii

-

Matthew Sturniolo was a heart breaker.. at least that’s what you labeled him as.

You met him on a night out when you were visiting Boston. You and your friends had planned a night out down at the bar. Chatting to each other, your eyes couldn’t help but catch on the backside of a man that was talking with the bouncer. His arms were crossed, but one of his hands would occasionally move out to gesture about whatever he was talking about.

He wore a loose brown t-shirt, paired with cargo pants that were a lighter shade of brown than his shirt. Scattered tattoos covered his left arm as they immediately caught your attention, some covered by his sleeve. A backwards hat was placed on his head. The dim lighting of the area made his eyes more noticeable, the blue hue hypnotizing compared to the black sky.

It was obvious what he was doing.. especially when he went for a handshake.

The man started to make his way inside, but not without looking back as he spares a fleeting glance to you. Even at the slight glimpse of him, a shiver had passed through you. The dark, faulty lamp above the door had accentuated his already sharp features, mesmerizing you.

“Y/N, hello?” Your friend snapped you out of your daze, quite literally snapping her fingers. You blink before realizing, quickly catching up with your group and following them as they make their way up to the bouncer.

“Sorry.” You mumble, though you knew no one could hear. Showing your ID’s, the muscular guard deems you guys access - though, clearly he doesn’t care about who he lets in as long as he gets the money for it.

Stepping inside, your eyes wander the unfamiliar area. It was a nice place - people talking and dancing, no spilt drinks coating the floor or angry drunk men lashing out for no reason - no, this place looked clean, upstanding. Your friends rush to find an empty table, but you part from them as you head to the bar. Sitting down on an unoccupied seat, you patiently wait for the bartender to come by and take your order as your eyes still dart around the new place.

As soon as the bartender makes his rounds, he saddles up over by you. “What can I get you?” He asks, a heavy Boston accent seeping through his words.

“Can I get ‘something blue’?” You ask, tapping your fingers on the bar table. You make eye contact with him as he nods, mumbling a, “sure.” You subtly watch the way he skillfully makes the drink, impressed by how easy he makes it look. Once he hands it to you, you send him a polite smile before sipping on it as your eyes wander around to see if you could find your friends.

Before you could locate them, you hear the chair beside you squeak as a presence makes itself known. Not being able to stop yourself, your head turns to find out who it is. The same man that you were watching when you were outside sat beside you, a charming smile on his pretty pink lips. He looked even more handsome close up, defined cheekbones sticking out as his blue eyes illuminate from the lighting of the club.

Introductions were made as you sip on your blue drink, Matt’s matching colored eyes watching the way your lips wrap around the glass. His attitude was captivating, a sweet, but inexplicable quality about him that drawn you so close to him somehow. You didn’t know what it was - he was beyond attractive, of course, but that wasn’t it. Something about him was just so charming; the way he held himself, the way he talked to you with respect, but left some room for a few jokes, a chuckle leaving your lips every time.

It was no doubt he had people at their knees for him.

As his hand creeps forward, it hovers over your thigh before he speaks up. “Can I do this?” Matt hums, his eyes following yours. At your nod, his lips curl up as his large palm settles on your skin, the dress you decided to wear riding up because of your sitting position. His touch felt nice, like there was no malice or hostility behind it. His palm was chilly, despite the warm, sweaty air that surfaced the busy bar, sending a shiver down your spine.

Matt notices as his smirk only widens, his thumb grazing your skin softly as he rubs small circles on it. His inhales through his nose as he looks around the place, noticing his two brothers chatting with a friend they met up with - given, that’s what Matt was supposed to be doing. But as soon as he saw you outside, he knew he had to have you. Your pretty face, your figure in your dress, the eye contact you made with him.. he hadn’t even talked to you and he was already captivated. He needed your attention.

Your eyes watch the way he searches the place, giving you the perfect opportunity to reach for your phone. Turning it on with a tap to the screen, you read the time before silencing the notifications. Licking your lips, as the taste of the alcohol lingers, you set your phone back down just in time for when Matt turns back to you. Your blown pupils study the way his pink tongue slides over his top teeth, your desires only growing as the seemingly innocent act sends heat down your body.

The music blares in the club as your ears finally tune it in again. The entire conversation with Matt made your ears only focus on him, not the loud, shitty music or the obnoxious laughing that sounds from inside the club. It felt like you were sitting here for hours talking to him, though, it’s only been several minutes.. at least, that’s what you’d guess.

An idea pops into your head as the song flows through your ears. Taking a deep breath, you decide to jump the gun as you say, “Wanna dance?” You’ve never asked anyone to dance before at a bar, let alone found someone you wanted to dance with - besides your friends. This was something new, but the way Matt made you feel in the short period of time you’ve gotten to know him was also something new.. and you weren’t gonna let it go to waste.

Matt’s lips curl up into a smile as he nods. “Yeah, c’mon.” He says, though low enough that it’s almost drowned out by the music. You replicate his smile at his acceptance, shooting up from your spot at the bar, downing the last sip of your drink. You take his hand in yours as you weave through the crowd, Matt following behind you closely. Once you find a spot that has enough room between friends and couples, you turn to him as he chuckles.

“I’m not a dancer.” Matt tries to warn you over the booming song. His eyes don’t stray from you once, even with the random, social people that envelop the space around him.

You shake your head in response. “Neither am I.” You reassure with a smile.

As the music progresses and the songs change, your back makes contact with his front as your bodies form a rhythm, moving in sync with each other. You welcome the warmth of his palms on your hips, letting yourself relax into him as your head rests on the back of his shoulder. Your eyes travel over to him as you make contact, his blue irises already trained on you. It was like he was held captive by you, your entire being so addicting. Your hips pushed back into him as Matt licks his lips, greedy eyes taking in every movement of yours.

Despite Matt claiming he couldn’t dance, he fell into your rhythm quickly. He couldn’t get enough of the way your body felt against his. The warmth of you mixing with his growing need for you only driving him further. Your eyes didn’t help either. The way you looked at him, it was as if an angel herself was taking time out of her day to pay attention to him. And who was he to take this for granted?

“You wanna come back to my hotel with me?” Matt whispers in your ear, his hot breath fanning along your ear as goosebumps form on your skin from the feeling. A smirk curls on your lips at his question as you take your bottom lip between your teeth in thought.

Before you could stop yourself, you nod. “Yeah.” You mumble, looking up at him. His eyes alone could’ve convinced you, the enthralling blues putting you in a trance. At your answer, Matt smirks as his hands squeeze your hips.

Without thinking, you both rush out of the bar as you chuckle, darting for his black car that was parked on the side of the road. Your hand was in his as you run for it, stumbling in your heels. You laugh before stopping as you crouch down, tossing them off of your feet before picking them up in your hand.

“Give me ‘em.” Matt says, his free hand reaching out. When you hesitate, he notices the way you didn’t want him to hold them if he didn’t want to. He takes them in his hand, his fingers tightening their grip as he picks up his pace again, not letting you deny his actions.

The scene felt as if it was pulled straight from a romcom, you and this - practically - stranger running down the sidewalk together, Matt holding your heels as you hold hands, you barefoot as you laugh, the cool air brushing along your exposed skin. Everything felt so natural with him, and you’ve barely known him for two hours. It was absurd, the way you were so happy with him; the way you wanted to do anything to impress him. It’s been too long since you’ve felt like this with anyone, it was refreshing.. but also terrifying. But at the moment, it didn’t even cross your mind. All you cared about was you and him as you rushed to his car.

Situating yourself in the passenger seat, you smile as he shuts the door behind you. Rounding his car, Matt sits himself in the drivers seat as he places your heels on the backseat before turning on his car, vibrating slightly as the engine revs. Pulling out of his parking spot, he reaches out to turn the radio on, letting the music radiate through the car. Your window was half open as the cool night breeze sends chills down your body, goosebumps forming on your previously warm skin.

“I need to stop at the ATM.” You turn your head to look at him. You knew that if you were going back to the hotel with him, you were sure to buy something, whether it be food or drinks. Matt glances at you with an unimpressed look, but makes a right turn as he drives near the bank. If you were honest, you knew he wasn’t going to make you pay for anything, but who does it hurt to pretend?

As Matt parks the car, you dash out to the ATM. It doesn’t take long to do your transferring before you rush back to his dark car, sitting back inside on the passenger seat. Buckling your seatbelt, you tuck your small purse beside you. Sending him a smile as you make eye contact with him, you pick up the desire in his eyes. The sight made your thighs subconsciously clench as it results in Matt’s smirk widening.

“Let’s go, pretty girl.” He hums, putting the car in drive again as he pulls out of the parking lot and down the road, making his way towards the hotel him and his brothers were staying at for the week. Silently, you had wondered why they were staying at a hotel since, when you had first started talking at the bar, Matt had revealed that this is where he grew up, in Boston. Traveling to LA was a toll on the boys, but they did it to see their family. The only conclusion you could come up with is that they didn’t want to bother them with staying out so late, only to wake them up when they come back. Either way, it wasn’t necessarily any of your business.. besides, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t grateful they were staying at a hotel and not their parents house.

The radio blares music as it takes over your mind, the melody and lyrics luring you in. You hum along quietly before letting out a laugh as Matt begins to speak. Jokes are thrown back and forth as you two get closer and closer to the hotel, chuckles and giggles being heard over the music. Everything felt so carefree, like it was meant to be this way. It was so easy to let go around him. In the back of your mind, you knew how reckless this was; letting this random, handsome stranger intrigue you so much to let him take you back to his hotel, convinced of your own image of your chemistry with him. But you truly couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment, the only thing on your mind being alone with Matt in his hotel room.

Matt’s car stops as he parks, the sign of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel large on the building. You knew this place was expensive, so it shocked you as your eyes traveled the exterior. Matt notices your reaction as he chuckles, unbuckling his seat as he shuts off his car.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” He says, opening his side door before making his way around and helping you out. As you make your way inside, you couldn’t help but gawk at the interior. Matt doesn’t give you enough time to appreciate it as he tugs you to the elevator, wanting to get to his room as soon as possible.

Pushing the button for his floor, your eyes can’t help but linger on his long fingers. They were skinny, but you could tell he knew how to work them. It made you lick your lips as your eyes trail up, looking at his perfectly sculpted side profile before he turns. The second the doors close, Matt has his hands on your waist as he smashes his lips against yours. The sudden force makes you groan into the kiss, your back hitting the wall of the elevator, your hands moving up to his neck. Your tongues prod at each other, tangling as the kiss grows messy.

Matt’s hand glides down your hips, cold fingertips grazing your bare thigh, eliciting goosebumps to form. You could feel the way he smirks into the kiss from your bodies reaction. His head turns more, giving him better access to taste you against him. You still had the remaining flavor of alcohol etched on to your tongue as Matt groans at the taste of it. Thankfully, he hadn’t drank before you left, driving sober the entire time.

Before his hand could travel further, the ding of the elevator breaks you both out of your daze. Inhaling sharply as Matt pulls away, your eyes notice the way his pink lips are now swollen, turning into a darker red shade. He licks his lips, inhaling deeply as he takes your hand again, muttering another, “c’mon.”

Darting down the hallway, he finds his room number before sliding the keycard into the slot before it pings and a green light is shown. Twisting the handle, Matt lets you walk in before shutting the door behind him.

“This is beau—” You start before Matt’s lips cut you off again, greedily wanting your taste again. His hands grasp your hips, pulling you close to him as your bodies press together, your hands moving to his hair as you kiss back with the same fervor. It was clear your desperation for each other, it was obviously reciprocated. The way his fingers clutch at your skin through the material of your dress, pleading to feel more.

“Shh, baby. Let me take care’a you.” Matt whispers, his breath hot against your lips as his hand moves up to cup your cheek. You make eye contact with him as you nod, your chest heaving from your lack of air. “Good girl.” He coos before backing you up against the bed and lays you down, hovering above you.

His lips immediately attach to your neck, wet, sloppy kisses pressing to the skin. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them trailing up to the back of his head as your fingers sift through his hair. Your lips part as you breathe, occasional nips and sucks being forced onto your skin, eliciting a shaky exhale from you. His lips turn up in response, his kisses traveling down as seconds go by.

Kissing down your neckline, Matt’s soft lips soothe you as he gets lower and lower. His large palms move up your thighs, teasingly grazing his fingertips over the edge of your dress. “Can I take this off, sweetheart?” He asks softly, slightly muffled by the way his lips don’t leave your warm skin. Every part of you craved him, mind and soul. Your body heated up at his close proximity, not being able to control the way he effects you in every way.

You nod quickly, the pillow rustling beneath your head. You needed it off, you needed him to touch you. Matt smiles at your response, not wasting any time as his hands slowly bring it down, revealing your bare chest and panties left on your exposed body. Your nipples immediately harden from the temperature in the room, not ready to be shown to two prying eyes.

Matt hums, gently leaving the fabric at the end of the bed. He kicks his shoes and socks off as he settles back on top of you, licking his swollen lips as his blue irises take in your pretty form. Hair splayed across the pillow, body impatiently waiting for him as you try to stay as still as possible, wanting his next movement to be soon.. now.

He smirks at your eagerness, but also realizes that he couldn’t tease you for it.. he was just as eager, if not more. His hands slide up your bare thighs, an inhale eliciting from you. “So responsive.” Matt mumbles, more so to himself, but his low tone makes heat travel down your body. “‘M’gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, baby.” He promises, leaning down as he takes your nipple in his mouth, lathering the sensitive area in his saliva, his warm tongue darting out to wet it. The contact makes you let out a breathy moan, your hand going to the back of his head again. Your fingers subconsciously clutch his hair as Matt moans against your nipple in response. The vibration made you gasp, paired with the way Matt’s other hand moves up to squeeze your other boob, your back arching slightly off of the bed and close to his chest.

Once Matt pulls away from your chest, you’re left with several marks on your skin, surrounding, on and near your breasts. He slowly makes his way down, kissing down your stomach as he teasingly nips at the skin just above your waistband on your panties. His teeth clamp on the thin fabric, looking up at you as your breath hitches. He leans down, taking your underwear with him as his lips curl up, noticing his effect on you. As he gets halfway, he leans back and pulls them off, tossing them as he presses kisses to your knees, all the way back up to your inner thighs.

Your thighs tense at the feeling, wanting to just suffocate his pretty face between them. A low chuckle reaches your ears as Matt notices your every move, loving the way you react to him. His hands move under your thighs, placing them atop his shoulders as his fingers dig into the soft skin. His pink lips tease over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, so close to where you wanted - needed him.

“You want this, sweet girl?” Matt asks lowly, blue eyes meeting your from between your legs. He asks that as if he can hear your thoughts, your chest rising and falling faster and faster as you get more impatient.

You nod immediately. “Yes! Need it, Matt.” You whine, eyes picking up the way he smiles. Instantly, Matt dives in, licking a long stripe up your center, picking up your wetness. He was selfish as he tasted you, needing more and more as his tongue greedily lapped at you, taking your scent and flavor for himself.

“Mm.. taste so fuckin’ good.” Matt grunts before quickly dipping back in, his lips wrapping around your clit. Your hand reaches down and brush into his hair, the sensation of his skillful tongue against you bringing you closer to the edge pathetically fast.

“Fuck, Matt!” You moan, your thighs tensing as Matt’s needy mouth pleasures you in a way no one has before. You could feel the way he smiles against you, his lips moving down to prod his tongue at your entrance. You gasp sharply as it pushes inside you, your fingers tangling in his soft hair and tugging in response. Matt moans against you, the vibration only sending you further.

The warm muscle worked itself against you, showing you what real pleasure was like. Matt’s mouth didn’t stop once as he devours you, wanting to taste you for the rest of his life. At his position, his pretty nose rubs against your clit as it makes your thighs tremble slightly, your back arching off of the bed.

“You gettin’ close? Hm?” Matt mutters, pulling away to speak for just a second before immediately diving back in, not wanting to waste any time at all away from your addicting taste. You nod against the pillow, swallowing dryly. He hums against you, inaudibly giving you permission to do so. The last vibration was all it took for the knot inside your lower stomach to break as you cry out his name, your eyes squeezing painfully tight as your thighs shake and cage his head in. Matt quickly laps at your release, taking it all for himself. He helps you ride out your high as he pressed sloppy kisses to your clit.

Panting, your chest heaves as the euphoria begins to subside. You whine quietly as you grow sensitive, Matt’s mouth never stopping their movements. “Too much, Matt. ‘M’sensitive.” You whimper, your words slurring together slightly, still coming down from your high.

Matt chuckles lowly against your most sensitive parts at your words. “Just a little more, baby.” He hums. His tongue darts out again, licking along your center as he continues to flow along your arousal, lathering your clit. Your thighs couldn’t help but tremble at the overstimulation, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt.

Enveloping your clit in his warm mouth again, he tugs gently, eliciting a wrecked cry from you. Matt smiles before he pulls away, mumbling, “shh, baby, it’s okay.” He lets your legs fall from shoulders as he moves above you again, hovering over you. “Such a pretty girl.. y’look so fuckin’ good when you come f’me.” He says against your lips before connecting them with yours. His tongue welcomes itself in your mouth as you’re forced to taste yourself. Your hands reach down and tug at his belt, signaling your need for it to be off. He immediately picks up on it, reaching a hand down to undo it as he doesn’t even think about parting his lips from yours.

“So impatient.” Matt clicks his tongue teasingly. You huff at his words, making him chuckle. Leaning back, he undoes the belt buckle before reaching his hands back to swiftly take off his shirt. Tossing it, his pants and boxers join soon after as he’s only left in his horse necklace as his hat had previously fell off when you had entered the room together.

Your eyes trail down, widening slightly at his size. Pre-cum slid down his aching red tip, begging for some sort of contact with something. Noticing your hesitance, Matt leans back down and hovers over you. “You can take it, baby. I’ll make it fit.” He says lowly, the words making your thighs clench as you swallow dryly. He sure was a smooth talker..

A hiss leaves clenched teeth as Matt teases his tip along your slit. The feeling made you gasp as you look at him before glancing down at what he was doing. Your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer to you. “So fucking wet.. all f’me.” He groans, positioning his head at your entrance before slowly pushing in. “Fuuuck.”

The stretch made you wince, your lips parting. Your hands clawed at his bare back, eliciting another hiss from Matt‘s lips. “Takin’ me so good. Such a good girl.” He mutters breathlessly, trying to keep his composure as he breathes deeply through his nose. He looks down at you, eyes wandering your expression. As he sinks fully inside, he lets you adjust until you give him the green light, a nod catching his eye.

Moving back, he almost completely leaves you before thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out again. The feeling made you let out a choked moan, the wind knocked out of you. Matt groans at the feeling, his hips slowly gathering a rhythm as he fucks deep into you. Your legs tense around his waist as the pleasure takes over, sounds leaving your lips as your body jolts with every thrust. One of Matt’s hands moves up to grasp your breast as they move with your body, a moan leaving you in response.

His lips crash on to yours as his thrusts don’t falter, his tongue instantly clashing with yours. The sound of skin slapping fills the entire room, telling anyone that might walk by what was going on inside. The creaking of the bed as the headboard hit against the pale, white walls behind it exposed you both, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was him and the way he was making you feel. And he was making you feel fucking good.

“Shit, Y/N.” Matt grunts breathlessly, his lips agape as he watches you, only adding to his pleasure. “You feel so good around me.. squeezin’ me so damn tight.” He groans, his hips moving slightly faster as he only gets more worked up. He knew he was close, that inevitable feeling in his stomach surfacing, but he wanted you to break first.

The hand that was previously on your breast moves down as it grazes your still sensitive clit, rubbing fast circles on it as he tries to bring you closer to the edge. The sensation makes you gasp as your nails only dig harsher into his pale skin, marking him. You moan out, your back arching for the millionth time that night. “Matt! I.. ‘m’gonna come!” You whine, panting as your thighs clench, your release coming up quick upon you.

Matt welcomes it as his finger only moves quicker against you. “Come f’me, sweetheart. Want you to make a mess on my dick.” He says, his breathing labored as he tries his best to hold off his peak of euphoria, wanting to see you let go first. At his words and actions, the band inside you breaks again, a cry of his name leaving your lips as your nails dig down his back, eliciting a hiss and shiver from the man on top of you.

At that, Matt lets out a guttural groan as pulls out, spilling his release on your lower stomach. His head collapsed on your shoulder as he rode out his high, the pinnacle of euphoria taking over his body as it exhausts him. You both pant as your orgasms slowly begin to fade, tiredness quickly taking over.

“Get you cleaned up.” Matt whispers, slowly - reluctantly - getting up from his spot and walking into the small bathroom and grabbing a washcloth to wet and wash the cum off of you. You nod, inhaling sharply as the soft fabric makes contact with your sensitive pussy. “Shh, it’s okay.” He coos before tossing the towel once he’s finished.

As he settles back in bed, you reach to grab your phone, just to see what time it is. As you turn it on, you read the time before scrolling through the notifications. Your eyes widen at the dozens of messages and calls from your friends, totally forgetting where you were in the first place and why you went.

“You get a bunch of texts from the people you came with, too?” Matt asks, phone in hand as he snaps you out of your daze. You chuckle and nod.

“Yeah.. told them what they tell me: live now, think later.”

[glasswinggames]

Visual Novel In Progress

Discord || Ko-fi || X

Dear Reader,

Congratulations! You have been selected for a chance at a new life in another world!

Archelia is a place of magic, mystery and more! This city may have many Twisted Secrets, but it's a place where dreams can be made reality... though of course, all things come with a price.

So, complete your missions, trigger the Catalysts to change the world, and maybe, in the midst of it all, find your Ever After...

You, our beloved Reader, have been brought over from Earth by a mysterious being who only seems to communicate with you through a blue screen that only you can see. You've been chosen as the representative of the God's who wish for change to the story of a world that has long since gone stagnant.

If you succeed in unlocking your power and creating change with the help of the Catalysts, beings at the centre of change identified by the God's, you can have anything you wish for...

But only if you give a satisfying ending.

As the screen disappears, you're left to your own choices, to shape your new life in this fantasy world, where magic and mystery exists around every corner, and to become whoever you want to be. Will you stay as a reader, letting the story pass you by? Will you be a supporting character, helping the hero or villain as you choose? Will you become a protagonist, bringing change by your own hands?

... Or will you become something more?

Features

Ever After: Twisted Secrers is an 18+ Visual Novel set in a historical fantasy inspired world following eight different stories exploring a variety of themes.

🦋 Customisable MC 🦋

The MC of Ever After: Twisted Secrets is completely customisable. There is a customisation screen to choose name, pronouns, gender, sexuality, and physical appearance, including disabilities and much more. You can set preferences for physical touch, and personality is defined through optional flavour choices.

🦋 Different Relationship Dynamics 🦋

When you meet each interest, you will get to choose how you feel about them, whether it's dislike, disinterest, friendliness, or attraction, and there will be options to deepen these feelings throughout the stories. This gives more opportunities to give depth to your MCs personality: dislike a character but want to be nice to their face or even manipulating them to love you? There are options for that.

At the start of each route you will be asked whether you want to play the platonic or romantic route, this will determine your potential relationship statuses in the endings. For platonic you can become best friends or even be in a queerplatonic relationship.

In Jedreks route, there is the option to be in a poly relationship with Jedrek and the side character Oliver. You can choose the dynamic, whether it's a V or a triangular relationship. It is not possible to be in a relationship solely with Oliver.

🦋 Choice Driven Stories 🦋

There are three types of choices:

Flavour Choices: Don't impact the endings but dictate your characters personality and influence how people react to you. These choices are optional, if you turn these off then it will follow [redacted]'s selections throughout.

Relationship Choices: Impacts the endings for whether the interest likes/loves or dislikes you.

Catalyst Choices: Impacts the endings for whether you were successful in triggering enough change within the world.

There are four different endings per interest, not including bad ends throughout the prologue and routes and additional epilogues, which are unlocked once you meet the requirements.

🦋 Extras 🦋

CGs - There are 16 CGs in the prologue alone! Each route will have several CGs which you can collect and view in the gallery.

Compendium - Throughout the routes as you discover more key terms and information will be stored in a Compendium which you can access at any time to learn more about the world and its history!

Original Music - For the prologue, there will be an original song written for idol group Boo-K, with plans for the full game to have even more music for you to listen to!

Achievements - There are several achievements you can get throughout each route! Maybe something will happen if you unlock them all...

As you can choose to play platonically and define your own relationships, I refer to the different route options as Story Interests!

Meet the Catalysts of change below!

'I'll have my own following with blackjack and hookers--'

Pronouns: They/them

Sexuality: Demisexual

Age: 30

Height: 6'2"

Cairen is known as being the irresponsible, frivolous rake of the Palace, the fallen second star of Archelia, the charming elven heartbreaker of the city. When they aren't gallivanting around the city and avoiding their royal duties, they can be found tending to their butterflies in their private greenhouse... also avoiding their royal duties.

Perhaps it's a good thing that their uncle still holds into the throne? That the position of heir has gone to their war hungry cousin?

However, as you will see with Cairen, things aren't always as they seem in the floating Palace, and the one who has long since been underestimated has poisonous plans of their own to take back what has been stolen from them, with interest.

Despite Cai's playful, frivolous demeanour, they are smart, cunning, and very ambitious. They know their worth and believe the crown may not be enough to showcase it anymore: they need to ascend even higher and create a new world where they stand above all else.

Will you join them at the peak? Or will they push you off along the way?

'What's a historical fantasy without a cold Northern Duke?'

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 28

Height: 6'

As the ArchDuke, Helios is the leader of the most powerful family outside of royalty, though even they have little control over him since he became the Shayan, the head of the magic tower and the most powerful mage in the Kingdom.

Helios has used his magic and intellect to contribute to the Kingdom, advancing technology through magic stones that are widespread in transport and improving medical care to reduce dependency on the church.

However, his sharp tongue, impossibly high standards and stubbornness haven't earned him many friends, even if his criticisms come from a place of care. Though this doesn't seem to bother him, as he still has what is truly important: his family, his reputation and his magic.

But, when Helios stands to lose everything, and the world he helped turns against him, will he be able to stay true to himself, or will he be driven to revenge?

'Do you want to get magically stuck together? Cause that's how you get magically stuck together!!'

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 35

Height: 5'6"

The Witch of the Forest of Yulis is a mysterious woman. Though she visits the city often with her beautiful seeing eye dog Orion leading the way, she maintains enough of a distance that not too many know much about her.

Nature, animals, and the souls of the dead wander by her side now, but there was once a time when the forest was a haven for others in the city. But as technology has taken over, and more of nature has been destroyed to expand the city walls, the forest and its resident witch have been affected by some strange unknown force and nobody has been able to get close.

Farren is a kind woman, with a tendency to do her best to help others, especially those who can't help themselves. She is gentle, but firm in her boundaries, and a woman with a strength underneath her softness.

However, in the face of death, how long will her gentleness last, and will she take matters into her own hands to save the nature she loves the most?

'[J.Jonah Jameson voice] GET ME PICTURES OF THE BOOGEYMAN!'

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: [Redacted]

Height: 6'3"

At some point or another, everyone has either heard or told stories of the Boogeyman. Parents who tell their children to behave lest they be whisked away, friends who hunt for him as a test of courage, and rumours that spiral whenever somebody goes missing. But everyone knows this is just a myth, a legend of a monster that doesn't exist.

Or does he?

Despite his notoriety, nobody knows the face of the Boogeyman, or the fact that he is back.

He feeds on fear, finding joy in their panic, and with his laughter filling the streets as he claims another, it may just be that the title of monster fits him better than you realise.

You've taken a job as a reporter, alongside your new friend Oliver, to hunt him down for the latest scoop, and when you get close enough to snap a photo you find that the playful monster of a killer enjoys the limelight.

Will you be able to keep him entertained long enough to find out what he's doing with the bodies? Or will you end up just another victim on his path?

'Spencer Reid if he was the unsub... and an idol'

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 24

Height: 5'10"

A previous otherworldly traveller like yourself brought the concept of idols to Archelia, giving it a classical twist to fit in with the worlds tastes.

Illium is part of the five member group, Boo-K, an incredibly popular boy group inspired by flowers, with Illium the red flower member alongside his brother, the yellow flower, Zephyr.

He's known as the Prince of the group, the untouchable idol who keeps everyone at arms length with his universal kindness and gentle smile. Fans have pictured him rescuing animals, especially fallen birds, with a soft smile that matches his gentle voice.

But behind his pretty words and soft demeanour, he is still searching for a reason why he exists and something to be truly passionate about. As you spend more time together, he believes you may have the answer to his prayers.

However, you start to notice a trend to a string of attacks and murders... they are all people who have wronged you no matter how small the altercation. Surely the sweet, with his princely charm, Illium could have nothing to do with it... right?

'Your flirting mind tricks don't work on me, only money!'

Pronouns: Dependent on presentation, he/they when masc and she/they when femme.

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 48

Height: 6'2" (Masc)/5'9" (Femme)

A large building towers in the city's shopping district: the Bedisa Lounge, home to a large casino, and the Bedisa Family led by the one and only Eos.

On the surface they are a legitimate business and entrepreneur, who supports all the businesses in the city, providing protection, preventing crime and making profits for all. Underneath though, the Bedisa Family is a large criminal organisation who manage the black market, the flow of information from the Underworld, and work under the eyes of the law to steal and con nobility to line their own pockets.

It's so easy when the short tempered, cocky leader can shapeshift and become anyone, even those you think you know well.

Unfortunately for yourself, you make an enemy of Eos when you walk on their turf, and if you want to win this war between the two of you, and even change your status from enemies to lovers, you're going to have to bring all you have.

Though, when they start dabbling in darker businesses, will you stand by them on top of your shared riches... or will you be swept up in their shadows.

'You like heroes? You like himbos? Excellent /breaks him'

First Locked Route

Pronouns: He/him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 25

Height: 7'

The first person you see in this chaotic world and the one who will support you above all else, Noah is the true hero, and not only to yourself. He is known for being a walking ray of sunshine, helping others and protecting all from danger, not even realising when he gets hurt himself.

It's the 'everyday heroics' he likes to say, believing that no matter how small the action is, you can do something to save someone.

A member of the church, he is your rock in the midst of political arguments and infighting between factions. Noah wants to make your dreams come true above anything else.

But underneath that happy go lucky demeanour are anxieties he cannot squash on his own, and a darkness that threatens to swallow his and your light.

What lengths will Noah go to be a hero? Will you be able to save him before he ends up losing himself?

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

Second Locked Route

Pronouns: She/they

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: [Redacted]

Height: 5'7"

Ranked to determine strength, S class mercenaries are few and far between. Fortunately for Archelia however, one resides within their lands. Though unlike others who seek fame and coin, the Mercenary Queen only accepts payment in the form of books and stories.

The quiet Athanasia can always be found with her head in a book, losing herself in the pages regardless of it's contents.

But a life lost in the world's of others is often a lonely one, and they have become no more than an observer, a reader of reality, rather than a main character.

However, as you join this mercenary as she experiences her very own horror, fantasy, romance and more, revealing secrets of the world that have long since been forgotten, what role will she play in this story?

And who is she to you?

[warping-realities]

Beautiful Things

Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.

Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.

That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"

Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.

“Please, staaaayyyy…”

That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.

The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.

“I want you, I need you, oh God…”

But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?

Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.

Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.

“Alois, du bist dumm…”

He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.

But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.

“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.

“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.

“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane

It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”

Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.

Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.

“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”

“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.

“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”

The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.

But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.

“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.

After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.

“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.

“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”

“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.

“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”

This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.

Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.

Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.

“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”

“I… what…?”

“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.

“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”

.....

When he got to the dorm for international students  after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.

“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious  starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.

“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”

“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”

“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”

“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”

“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”

“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!

“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”

“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”

“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”

Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.

“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”

As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one  in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.

“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.

When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.

Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.

“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.

“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.

“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”

“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.

"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.

...

Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.

“You coming, bro?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”

“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.

.....

While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.

“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”

“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”

“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”

[smuttysabina]

Motherhood, with Jihyo

(Male Reader x Jihyo, 1900 words) Pregnancy, pregnant sex, milk, creampies, Mommy fetish, motherhood.

Jihyo has always been a "Mommy". Her voluptuous curves, her stern yet nurturing nature, her kindly face, her charismatic domination, her enormous breasts; all of these factors helped to define Jihyo's maternal inclinations. But after getting impregnated by Once, these inclinations have blossomed into something that transcends common motherhood. Jihyo is no longer simply a Mommy, she is The Mommy of Idols, the undisputed matriarch of breeding and love. Along with a boost to her charisma, pregnancy has bestowed upon her physical gifts as well. Her already capacious breasts have swollen even larger to accommodate the milk being produced within them. Her toned body has been sheathed in a fresh layer of flesh to fuel the new life within her, rounding out her curves in a most attractive manner. And of course, her toned belly has swollen outwards, bulging from beneath her breasts as it nurtures the child within her. Taken all together, Jihyo now resembles an ancient fertility goddess, benevolent and beautiful, filled with desire and love...

Like all idols, Jihyo has a depthless sex drive, a gaping abyss of desire fueled by the constant acclimation she receives. Unlike many of her ilk though, Jihyo effectively channels her lust into her ambitions and beliefs, making her a superb leader in dance and song as well as in ah, breeding. Like all idols, Jihyo's natural instincts and fetishes have been blown all out of proportion by her condition; resulting in a perverse affection towards impregnation. Due to the more, benign direction of her sensuality, it is rarely noticeable aside from an implacable insistence on creampies. Jihyo is not a whore-goddess like Jennie, indifferent atop a mountain of drained fans as she mechanically fucks them into unconsciousness. This restraint has kept her fellow members of Twice in check as well, if their leader is not visibly outrageous in slaking her lusts on stage, how can they be? Not that Twice is not riven with degenerate fetishes, merely that they keep them more subdued far better than other groups.

So it is a crisis then, that as Jihyo's belly swells ever larger, so does her sexual appetites. Her pregnancy has driven her nearly mad with lust, and it is all Twice can do to keep their beloved leader from doing something... drastic. And no, getting bred on live tv by nearly a thousand fans is nothing to get excited about; its positively banal compared to Rose pegging a government official during her speech before the public. Thus, Twice feed an ever growing river of fans into Jihyo's room, desperately throwing bodies at the problem in the hope that she will be satisfied until birth. All the while though, they worry about their own condition, soon all of them will follow suit and get knocked up by Once. And when that happens, Twice will become insatiable... but perhaps Jihyo will discover a solution to the coming cataclysm. The girls can only hope that their leader will save them once more; but until then, Jihyo continues to fuck with all the virility of a young mother.

An atmosphere of panic fills the Twice suites, staff hurrying everywhere, the girls directing the chaos with barely restrained hysteria; Jihyo has awaken from her slumber and requires... entertainment. All around you a febrile stir of lust passes through the fans gathered for today's session, all of you keen to experience Jihyo's motherly love. Through the grace of God (Jihyo), you have managed to secure a place at the front of the line, and are more than a little excited to make love to her unsullied sex. Jihyo's bedroom door suddenly slams open and Chaeyoung staggers out, her cheeks ballooning as she hurries over to a potted plant were she noisily voids her stomach. Nayeon and Momo rush over to comfort her, and from what you can hear Chae was forced to gorge upon her leader's pussy, drowning in her squirt and turgid cum until her stomach was filled to bursting. Momo courageously flings herself through the door to buy her compatriots time to organize the fans into proper order for upcoming gangbang. Nayeon dashes to you, dragging you towards the bedroom with unseemly haste, her eyes wide with terror as she gabbles unclear instructions. Then you are practically flung through the doorway, and finally encounter her.

Jihyo is radiant, everything you could possibly dream of. Her breasts hang heavy over her swollen belly, her thick nipples dark and erect, her thighs curve seductively to support a staggeringly large ass. Every inch of her is sheened with sweat and oil, accentuating her beautiful skin and giving her a softly radiant glow. A dark, tangled path of hair shrouds her pussy, already soaked through with heady juices. Even the scent of her is enough to send your reproductive system into overdrive, your hind-brain blaring at you that the woman before you is fertile. Jihyo wears a sweet, welcoming smile with ease, wordlessly inviting you to spend your virile seed inside of her again and again until you are drained... As you move to embrace Jihyo, your eyes flicker to the side of the bed, where Momo sprawls; ass in the air, a truly gargantuan dildo juddering in her pussy. As she hugs you tightly, Jihyo discretely tosses her blanket over her fellow Twice member; there's no need to worry about Momo, just focus on Mommy...

Your tongue wrestles with Jihyo's as she slowly maneuvers you towards the bed, caressing her inflated belly and groping her hefty breasts. With a sudden bump, she collapses backwards onto the bed, already opening her legs wide in anticipation of your rigid manhood. Faced with such an alluring proposition, you don't bother with any more foreplay, and simply plunge yourself into her. Jihyo's pussy is soaking wet. Her slick, sticky juices tenaciously cling to your cock, providing you with euphoric lubrication as you fuck her. Any idol can get wet, but Jihyo is positively dripping all over your cock, smearing your balls with her creamy fluids, thrilling your cock with exotic sensations. Motherhood truly becomes of her, so it is only natural that you moan her true vocation to her as you fuck her. Jihyo herself gasps with pleasure as her pussy devours your cock, reveling in pleasure as your hands grasp her swollen belly for leverage. The sloshing noises reach a crescendo as you increase your pace before orgasm, before subsiding to slow loud meaty slaps as you climax. Both you and Jihyo groan as your thick seed spews into her, coating her pussy in another layer of murky cream.

It seems a profane disservice to pull out of Jihyo, but at her urging you allow your cock to feel the cold kiss of the bedroom's air once more. But your dick is not kept cool for long; rolling onto her side to support her weighty belly, Jihyo motions you towards her flush lips. You happily comply, letting Mommy slurp your conjoined juices off of your shaft with startling enthusiasm, lowering yourself until you are parallel on the bed beside her. Gradually, you find yourself on your back, while Jihyo works your cock until it is once more stiff at attention. With a dreamy look, she scoots forward until her breasts engulf your entire dick, smothering them in warm, soft flesh. Squishing them together, Jihyo kneads her boobs as she uses them to stroke you, until tiny pearls of liquid weep from her nipples. You sigh with pleasure as Jihyo uses her milk to lubricate your tittyfuck, your tip now bright red when it peeks out from between her tits. Spotting this, she promptly latches her mouth around your cockhead, her cheeks hollowing even as she relentlessly uses her breasts to massage your length. Your second load fountains directly into Jihyo's mouth, filling it with such quantities of seed that she is forced to swallow twice.

But Jihyo is not done with you yet, pulling herself atop you she kisses her way up to your face. She grinds her soggy crotch against your own, eager to receive your long hard love once more. Her heavy breaths moisten your neck, as she urges you to get it up once more for her, to get it hard again for Mommy. Combined with the aphrodisiacal fluids marinating your cock, Jihyo's entreaties allow your manhood to make one last heroic stand; defying your mortal limitations for the goddess atop you. Who in appreciation of your efforts, will do the draining without taxing your already exhausted body. Leaning back, Jihyo moves your cock along her sodden sex, your tip hidden within her bush and she massages it with her folds. Then, to your surprise, she moves it even further back, and promptly sits on your cock, burying it within her ass. You nearly cum from sheer excitement, Jihyo's anus is far tighter than her pussy, rapaciously forcing you deep inside of her with every thrust. She bounces atop you, the child within her adding extra heft to her ride, slamming against you remorselessly. Such is the force of Jihyo's fucking that her pussy lips open themselves, revealing to you the pulsing pink hole you so recently were plowing. Jihyo uses one hand to balance herself, while the other plays with her hair, before descending to massage her leaking breasts. With an animalistic grunt, Jihyo cums around your cock, her coils clenching tight around you as she leaks all over your chest. Now her ride is punctuated by wet slapping sounds that reverberate around the room, an announcement to all of your lovemaking abilities. It is all too much for you; your balls mightily exert themselves one final time, depleting your last reserves of sperm to impregnate Jihyo's infertile guts. Who only stops her steady bounces when your flaccid cock flops out of her vice-like asshole, she pouts down at you, surely you have more for Mommy...?

Jihyo lowers herself down onto you, wide ass in the air, resuming her motherly blowjob as she encourages you to rise to the occasion once more. But your cock is utterly spent, shriveling within her mouth even as her suction grows ever more stringent. You are rescued from a horrible fate by the sudden arrival of another fan, who plunges within Jihyo's exposed pussy without warning. She groans at the unexpected pleasure, forgetting about you for a moment as she enjoys the raw heat building within her belly. Strong hands yank you off of the bed, Momo's strained face fills your vision as she pulls you to safety. She drags you through a back door, into a room filled with cots and stocked with enough supplies to satisfy an army. Dahyun glances up from a couch where she was busy cleaning her nails, an eyebrow cocked in elegant bemusement. Which quickly turns to dismay as Momo collapses beside you, messily extruding the massive vibrator still within her pussy with a gush of fluids. Dahyun gingerly tends to her fallen group member, ignoring you entirely until her friend has been taken care of. Only then does she drag you onto a bed, before giving you a speculative glance. You know, Dahyun does have some aphrodisiac laying around if you want to... Oh never mind, you're about to pass out anyways...

[jessmaybank]

Cardigan - Part one; hand under my sweatshirt

Based on the song Cardigan by Taylor Swift

Series Masterlist

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Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader.

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: in which coming back from college and seeing him again, ruins everything.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs & violence, cheating, SMUT (a little), mentions & implications of public sexual acts, nipple play.

AN: lots of mutual pining, angst, jealousy and everything in between. Ex’s to lovers again. Flashbacks are in italics!

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

But I knew you

The day she had been dreading had finally come. Ever since she left for college, ever since she abandoned the life that was once all she knew, she wondered how it would feel coming back to outer banks. Coming back to the place where it all started.

She left for college about a year ago, eager to escape the harrowing memories of her past, and the people she lost along the way. That’s what she told her family anyway, that she needed a fresh start. That she needed to get away from all the familiar faces who chewed up her kindness and spat it straight back out, again and again, without a second thought. but in reality, the only person she was running away from was her ex boyfriend Rafe.

Her mind had been permanently plagued with memory’s of him since she left, tainted by the deep-seated pain of her first love, and as much as she would love to avoid him forever, summer in obx was something she didn't want to miss, and she missed her family. So, inevitably, she sucked it up and got a flight home.

She wished the memory of him would dissipate into the evening breeze as she sat in her mothers car, watching the horizon pass her by just as quickly as it came as they drove home from the airport. The radio played quietly in the background as she gazed into the golden skyline through the window, and the closer she got to figure eight, the more the memories started flooding back, like a whirlwind reminder of what could have been.

“3, 2, 1, go!” Topper shouts from his seat on the camping chair next to her, the light crackling of the fire filling her ears as the flames devoured the wood that they had gathered.

The beach was littered with drunk teenagers, and numerous crowds of tents to house everyone for the weekend, as part of the annual camping trip which graced the Outer Banks beach every year, to mark the start of summer. This tradition also just happened to be her favourite.

Topper opens his beer as quickly as possible, wasting no time in tipping the liquid down his throat, gulping it down swiftly. Everyone else followed suit in chugging down the beverage, and her eyes screwed shut as she got about half way, the questionable taste making her regret the decision to partake in these games.

As always, Kelce finishes his drink first, scrunching his can in his hands and chucking it into the fire, the smile on his face an indication that he’s clearly impressed with himself. She envied his drinking skills as she gave up, retracting her lips from the can when only about a quarter was left, her face scrunching up as she swallows the last of the liquid in her mouth.

“Has beer always tasted this bad?” She says, not sure if she’s asking herself or her friends around her.

“If your a pussy Y/N, just say that” a male voice taunts, and she didn’t have to turn her head to know who it was.

Rafe made his way towards the group, a backwards baseball cap sitting on his head rather lazily, as the sound of his footsteps trudging in the sand got louder and louder.

She was thankful she was wearing sunglasses as she took in his shirtless state, her jaw threatening to drop as she gawks at her boyfriends washboard abs, the defined muscles practically staring back at her.

He halted his movements as he stood right next to topper, just in time to watch her stick her middle finger up at him, a fake glare hidden behind her sunglasses. The corners of his lips turned upwards into a devious smirk, the sun painting his face in a golden hue, and she had to poke her tongue into the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling at him.

“I thought you couldn’t come until later?” She says, reaching to get another beer from the cooler, the condensation from the can running down her fingers, before she extends her arm to pass it to him.

“I’m good at sweet talking” he says smugly, sending her a subtle wink that only she noticed, before taking the beer out of her hand, their fingers touching briefly. She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it, but it wouldn’t of mattered anyway. All he was concentrating on was the small grin that graced her features, her sweetness practically radiating off her. Rafe couldn’t believe someone as sweet as her would want to be with someone like him.

He thanked her for the beer with a quick peck on the lips, ignoring the gagging noises from Topper at their affections. She had been with Rafe for a while now, and although they had got used to the teasing from their friends, she wondered how much longer they would keep up the act for.

“Debatable. I bet you just didn’t wanna help set up the tents, so you lied about being busy” Topper says, used to his best friends lazy tactics.

“You think so low of me, Top” he says, a cheesy grin on his face as he adjusts his hat, before opening his can. He takes a swig, relishing in the cool liquid which contrasted heavily to the beaming sun which reflected down on them.

“Right, I’m going for a swim before the beach gets too crowded” she says, standing up from her chair and finishing the rest of her beer. She took off her rings that previously decorated her fingers before lifting her shirt over her head, blissfully unaware of the stunned expression on her friend’s faces as they admired her body.

Rafe, on the other hand, was all too aware. His clenched jaw was hard to miss as he slapped Toppers chest, sending both him and Kelce a glare.

“Wait for me” Rafe shouts as he watches her begin to walk down to the shore, almost loosing his balance as he observes her hips swaying from side to side. God, he could get used to that.

“Wait for me” Topper and kelce say at the same time, the mocking tone in their voices evident as they both laugh. And if they weren’t making fun of him, Rafe would of been impressed at how unionised they were. Rafe held his middle finger up, trying his best to maintain a serious look when Topper raised his arms up in surrender, a small smirk painted on his face.

The water was cool when she got in, her muscles relaxing almost immediately. She sighed as she fully submerged herself into the water, swimming deeper into the sea, but her relaxed aura disintegrated when she felt something wrap around her foot. She screamed as she turned around, her fearful expression contorting into a glare as she realised it was just Rafe, clearly trying to fuck with her.

“you make it too easy for me, baby” he laughs, pulling her body towards him, in awe of the freckles which danced along her cheeks, and all the way along her nose. But as her chest was pressed flush against his, she realised just how exhausted he looked, the bags under his eyes making her cringe a little.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern laced in her voice as she runs a thumb along his slightly sunburnt cheek, just below his eyes.

She knew his dad had been putting him under a lot of pressure recently, and it pained her to see him like this, all tired and deflated. Even though he did his best to hide it from her, she could always tell.

He nodded, melting into her touch as he tilts his head, relishing in the gentle feel of her skin. His eyes shut for just a second as he snakes his arms around her waist, and it was moments like this she realised just how different he acted around her, compared to everyone else. And as much as she wished he wouldn’t put on a front all the time, she was grateful he let her see the real Rafe.

“Nothing I can’t handle baby. I just needed to see you” he says, and she couldn’t help but smile at her boyfriends sweet words, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“I can’t believe Topper and Kelce are going to be cock blocking me all weekend” he says, and she rolled her eyes at his vulgar statement, his sweetness evidently short lived.

“Like that’s ever stopped us before” she says, a tight-lipped smile on her face as she tries to hide her smirk.

Rafe had a shit-eating grin on his face as he recalled their past public escapades, reminiscing about the numerous times they indulged in public, even when their friends were too close for comfort. He just couldn’t help it sometimes, and neither could she.

She giggled as he grabbed her thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze before wrapping her legs around his waist. The gentle waves crashing around them drowned out her gasp as she felt his cock press against her clothed pussy, already starting to harden underneath her.

“Well, in that case…” he trails off, his smile never wavering as he takes a quick look around, making sure no one was too close before he tightens his grip on her waist, dipping his head to claim her lips in a harsh kiss.

And as she tangled her fingers into his hair, making him hum into her mouth almost immediately, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him.

“Have you thought about the summer camping trip yet sweetie? Seemed like you really enjoyed it last year” Her mother asks, ripping her gaze away from the road ahead, and it was moments like this where she had to question if her mother could read her mind.

She turned her head to meet her mothers gaze, scanning her features as if to look for signs that she was in fact a mind reader. She noticed that she had a certain look in her eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but whatever it was, was tinged with concern.

“Im not sure, i'll think about it” she says, fidgeting with one of the threads on her jumper sleeve, one of the many tells of her anxiety.

“Okay. Oh- I forgot to say, I know you didn’t want to do anything big for your birthday, but I just couldn’t help myself…” her mother starts, and the side eye she gave her was unmissable.

“Oh god. What have you done?” She says, eyes wide with fear. She never really cared for her birthday, and therefore never made a big deal out of it. She hoped this year wasn’t an exception.

“I’ve invited some families around for a small party, nothing crazy. The Thorntons, the Cameron’s, the-“

“The Cameron’s?” She says, her voice raised as she draws in a sharp breath, head snapping to face her mother so fast, she could of got whiplash.

Her eyes were wide as she attempted to register what her mother just said, her muscles tensing with fear as she felt her heart practically sink to her feet. She was going to have to see him again. And as soon as her mother took one look at her daughters face, she knew she had fucked up.

She wanted to blame her mother, but she couldn't really. To her mothers knowledge, there was no hostility towards her and Rafe, and their breakup was mutual. In other words, she has never told her mother the real reason they broke up, or the fact that they don't talk anymore. At the start, it was just too painful, and telling her meant it was actually real. Now, it was like bringing up old news, and she didn't want to revisit the ghosts of her past.

She spent the rest of the journey pleading with her mother to un-invite them, but she wouldn’t budge, claiming it would be too rude to tell them they couldn’t come now, and the damage had already been done. Although she had always had soft spots for Sarah and Wheezie, she knew seeing Rafe again would break her into pieces.

But that didn’t matter now, she thought to herself, eyes trained on the raindrops which had started to trickle down the car window, the moody clouds a reflection of her own dismay. Using her mothers words, the damage had been done, and it was now time to face the music.

I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt

Baby, kiss it better

She tapped her finger erratically on her leg as she sat on her desk chair in her bedroom, trying drastically to calm her nerves. This was officially the worst birthday ever, and she knew the worst was yet to come.

She finished the last of the wine she stole from her parents cupboards, the alcohol warming her insides as she inhales a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before checking her appearance in the mirror once again, ruffling her hair to give it more volume. She had already changed her outfit multiple times, wanting to make sure she looked good. But no matter how many times she checked her makeup, or fiddled with her hair, nothing felt sufficient.

She practically jumped out of her skin as the sound of the doorbell engulfed the house, her breath hitching in her throat. She sprayed her perfume on herself as her mother called her name, and gave herself a small but reassuring mental pep talk, before making her way down the stairs.

Her shoulders dropped with relief as she saw it was just the Thorntons, and she extended her arms out to embrace Topper as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Happy birthday! How is my favourite mai tai drinker?” Topper says as he hugs her, reminding her of the time she threw up after a long night of Mai tai’s and joints at his house; something that seemingly, she has never been able to live down.

“God, don’t remind me” she says, cringing at the memory.

“But that’s what friends are for?” He says, more of a question than a statement. His features held a playful expression, and she realised then she had missed her friends more than she thought.

She greeted Toppers parents, the familiar faces calming her anxiety a little as they all made their way to the garden, the music from the speakers getting louder and louder.

“This looks amazing mum, thank you” she said, a bright smile on her face as she hugs her mother, admiring all the decorations. Although this is definitely not what she wanted to be doing on her birthday, she could tell her mother put in a lot of effort, and she didn’t want to be ungrateful.

“Of course. Happy birthday darling” she says, before retreating in the kitchen to sort out a few things.

Once her mother was out of the sight, she pulled on Toppers arm, dragging him further down the garden, away from his parents “Top, I’m freaking the fuck out”

"what? why?" Topper says, his eyebrows furrowed.

"because, my moms invited-" her blood runs cold as she hears the doorbell again, and just by the look in her eyes, Topper instantly knew what was going on. “Rafe?” He asks. She nodded her head.

Luckily, it was just some old school friends, and she allowed her body to relax once again. She wondered how many mini-heart attacks it would take for Rafe to actually show up.

Her question was left unanswered as an hour past, and the Camerons still hadn't shown up. She didn't know whether she felt relieved or disappointed, but based on the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach, she definitely felt uneasy.

Despite this, she was actually having a good time. Kelce and the rest of her school friends turned up, and lets just say her mums wine stash was growing lesser by the minute.

"okay everyone, inside for the cake!" her mother yells, and everyone followed her inside promptly, taking a seat on the large dining table. She was just about to offer to help her mum cut the cake, when the doorbell went again. Her eyes shut in defeat, knowing there was only one family that was yet to turn up.

"ah! your just in time for the cake! come in, come in" she could hear her mother mumble from the hallway, and her heart dropped.

Low and behold, the Camerons waltzed into the dining room, and suddenly, she was stone cold sober. Ward was absent, which wasn't exactly unusual. He had missed so many of Rafe's important milestones growing up, so it wasn't a surprise he wasn't interested in hers.

Her eyes grew soft as they met Rafes gaze. He looked pretty much the same, although his hair had grown, and the way his dirty blonde locks fell in front of his face was doing something to her that she couldn't quite explain.

She hadn’t seen him for so long, that the memories she had of him where that of a timid ghost; one that always lingered but never pounced, and never allowed her to fully heal. But as she was standing in front of him now, in the flesh, everything felt so much more real. And it was clear his ghost had come back to haunt her, as vicious as ever.

But as he got closer, and she got a good look at his face, her insides started to twist in the worst way possible. The skin of his cheek was bruised purple, his eye was basically black, and the numerous cuts and scrapes that danced along his skin were accompanied by a cut lip. She bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a gasp, and she was sure everyone else was doing the same.

Rafe's heart skipped a beat as he saw her, his rationality crumbling before his eyes as he glanced at the girl who was once his everything. It was like their whole relationship flashed before his eyes in that very moment, and it was hard for him to breath. He tore his eyes away from her as the overwhelming emotions became too much, finding solace in staring at his feet instead. She wondered then if this was as hard for him as it was for her.

Wheezie was first to approach her, giving her a big hug as she wished her happy birthday, before Sarah and Rose did the same. And then, it was Rafe’s turn.

“Hey” she says, her lips turning upwards into a small smile. God, he had missed her smile.

“Hi. You look nice” he said in a soft voice, hands hidden from her as he fiddled with something in his pockets, a hesitant look in his eyes. It may of been a while, but she still knew the boy inside and out, and just by the deflated look in his blue orbs, she could tell he wasn’t doing well.

“Thanks” she said, giving him a tight lipped smile in response. There was so much she wanted to say. But with so many people around, she couldn’t.

The next twenty minutes were extremely awkward. Rafe didn't say a word to anyone, and you could practically cut through the tension with a knife. Her eyes were glossy as she blew out her candles, and it took everything in her to fake a smile and hold herself together. She had a good poker face, but Rafe could see right through her as he sat across the table, a pit of dread in his stomach as he observed the sadness that lay behind her eyes. He poked and prodded at his untouched piece of cake as he matched her dull expression, before Sarah decided to break the silence.

"so Y/N, hows college? are the people nice?"

"um, yeah" she says, swirling her fork around her plate. She really wasn't in the mood to elaborate.

"she's made lots of friends, haven't you sweetie? she even has a new-"

"mom" she says, more as a warning, looking up from her plate now.

"what? as i was saying, she as a new boyfriend" her mother says, as oblivious as ever, pausing to take a sip from her wine glass.

her eyes shut in defeat for a second, but she didnt miss the way Rafe's eyes snapped up, his jaw clenching at the revelation. she's moved on.

it was true, she had a new boyfriend. The relationship was new, but he was sweet. She would be lying if she said he made her feel the things Rafe did, though.

"oh, thats wonderful! whats he like?" Toppers mum says, blissfully unaware of the chaos she was provoking.

"um-" she was cut off with a clang before she could even start her sentence, everyones eyes darting to Rafe as the sound of him dropping his fork on his plate fills the room, his fists balled on the table.

"excuse me" Rafe says, not waiting for a response before he jumps up, storming out of the room without so much as a glance. She mumbles a quick "fuck" under her breath, her guilty conscience getting the best of her when she too sprang up, following him out of the room without giving it too much thought.

She walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, her movements coming to a halt when she spotted him outside, staring at him through the glass doors that led to the garden. She grabbed a random sweatshirt from one of the kitchen stools, and took a deep breath before heading outside.

He didn't look at her as she walked out, but he knew she was there. instead, he gazed at the pool in front of him. "new boyfriend, huh?" he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, his jaw still clenched.

"Yeah well, atleast he can actually look me in the eyes" she says, folding her arms over her chest. He took that as a dig, and turned to look at her then, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. It was painfully obvious he was still in love with her, hell, he probably always would be. But who could blame him? It was the kind of love you only saw in the movies, the same kind of love Rafe never believed in, until he met her.

"what happened to your face?" she says weakly, just above a whisper, as if it pained her to say it.

he opened his mouth and then closed it again, like a gulping fish, debating whether to tell her the truth or not. His mouth opened once again, ready to speak before his eyes trailed down to her sweatshirt. And just like that, he froze.

“You kept it” he says, and her eyes followed his, peering down at her sweatshirt before she too froze. Holy shit, she forgot it was his.

She walked with Sarah out into the garden at the Cameron house, taking a sip of her vodka orange as she walked past Rafe to the sun beds. He was watering the plants, no doubt a chore his dad asked him to do before he left the house this morning. But given his shirtless state, she definitely wasn’t complaining.

They had just started seeing each other, but they hadn’t told anyone yet, not wanting to deal with the agro from their friends. But again, she wasn’t complaining. As it turns out, sneaking around was a lot of fun.

“Have you no shame? Uncle Reggie doesn’t even drink this early” Rafe taunts, referring to his alcoholic relative Reggie, who had a reputation for always ruining family events.

“Debatable. I once saw him use tequila instead of milk in his cereal” Sarah says.

“Bite me, Cameron” she claps back at Rafe, smiling sweetly at him before perching on the sun bed.

I’d love to, he thought, but he bit his tongue at the presence of his sister. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her summer dress, the flimsy material just daring to be pulled down her body as he glanced at the flirtatious look that danced in her eyes.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man with a hose” he threatens, his signature smirk gracing his cherry red lips. She wasn’t sure she could get used to his smile even if she tried.

“You wouldn’t dare” she says, confident in her words as she laid back in the chair with her eyes closed, letting the sun drench her skin.

“Wouldn’t i?”

her eyes shot open as she felt cold water being sprayed all over her body, a loud scream leaving her lips.

“Holy shit!” She screams, springing up from the chair to run away from him, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. He stopped eventually, once he had his fun, but the amused look on his face turned into a stunned expression, his mouth agape as he noticed the way her dress had become somewhat transparent.

“Perv!” Sarah says to her brother, eyeing the way he was shamelessly staring at her wet figure. She mentally cursed him then for his lack of control, he didn’t even try to hide it.

She went inside to change, grabbing the first thing she saw in the laundry room, which happened to be a pair of sweatpants and a blue sweatshirt. It wasn’t the most flattering outfit in the world, but it would do. When she opened the door to make her way back into the garden, she found Rafe on the other side of it.

“Scale of 1 to 10?” He says, a cheeky look on his face.

Whenever they would bicker or annoy each other, they would always ask the other to rate their rage in a scale of 1 to 10, as a way of gaging whether the disagreement was serious or not.

“A strong 9. I’m plotting my revenge as we speak” she says, a smile painting her face that made all of his defences crumble. He let out a genuine chuckle at her remark

“Your wearing my sweatshirt” he observes, a cheesy grin on his face as he raises his eyebrows.

At this point, their secret relationship was lacking a label, and she wasn’t sure if they were at the clothes-wearing stage yet. “Oh, sorry. I’ll take it off” she says, her voice weak. She went to lift the material over her head when he stopped her.

“No, no, keep it. You look good in it” he says, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling her closer.

“Plus…I want you wearing it when I do this” he says, guiding her backwards into the laundry room and shutting the door with his foot. She giggled as he began peppering sweet kisses on her neck, and her hands immediately clung to his hair, relishing in the feel of his soft lips. He just couldn’t help but smirk into her skin as her breathing got heavier and heavier, and it dawned on him then that, label or not, he was hers. “Your smooth Cameron, I’ll give you that”

“Of course I kept it” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And to her, it was.

His features softened at her words, and he came to the realisation then that maybe, just maybe, all hope wasn’t lost. He tried to stop himself from stepping towards her, but he just couldn’t. And as soon as the smell of her perfume invaded his senses, he knew he was a goner.

“Does your boyfriend touch you like I did?” He asks, his voice low as he dips his head to hers, eyes focused on her glossy lips. One wrong move, and his lips would be on hers.

She couldn’t deny the way her insides melted as her eyes widened slightly, a certain intensity laying behind his eyes that made all of the blood rush to her head. The lust within his blown out pupils only added fuel to the fire as he brought his hands up to her thighs, tracing his fingers upwards along her skin, before his hands reached under the hem of her sweatshirt.

Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands dipped under the material, roaming around her bare hips, pulling her closer to him, if that was even possible. One hand then settled on the small of her back, whilst the other creeped up to her clothed breast. He swiped his thumb over her hardened nipple, and as she let out a small whimper, he had to bite his lip to suppress a smirk.

“I-“ her words turned into mush as he pushed the top of her dress aside, making her jerk against him as he pinches her nipple. The cold metal of his rings cooled down her burning skin as he touched her breast, and she felt like her knees were going to give way at any moment.

“I bet he doesn’t” he whispers in her ear, taunting her even further, even though based on her reaction, he already knew her answer. She could feel his smirk when he placed a kiss on her head, his familiar after shave making her question why they even broke up in the first place. She knew then that she was screwed.

The sound of the garden door opening snapped her out of her blissful trance, and she pulled away from him, ignoring every urge in her body that wanted to pull him close again. The loss of her warmth almost made him frown as the distance between them increased, and when he saw topper standing at the top of the garden, he never wanted to punch his best friend more.

“Uh, your mum wanted me to check if everything is alright” Topper says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he tried to ignore what he just walked in on.

“Yeah, um, we should probably head back in” she says, refusing to meet Rafe’s eyes as she turns on her feet, making her way back inside.

“Top, give us a minute” Rafe says, and she halts her movements, turning back around to face him. Topper nodded his head swiftly before treating back indoors.

“I just- I got you this. Happy birthday” he says, walking over to her, before pulling out a small box in his pocket. It was wrapped in blue wrapping paper, finished off with a small white ribbon, and she couldn’t help the wide smile that escaped her lips. He got her a present.

“Oh. Thank you” she said, taking the box out of his hand. Their fingers brushed briefly, and she couldn’t ignore the butterflies she felt in her stomach.

“We should…” she starts, gesturing her hand towards the house.

“Oh. Yeah” he says, his voice somewhat shaky. It was strange how he could go from dominant to a nervous reck in the space of a few seconds. He hated what she turned him into. She was the only one that could break his defences by the click of a finger, and it was terrifying.

He wanted to grab her hand, or yell for her to stay, but he didn’t. Instead, he waltzed back up the garden steps behind her, before entering the dining room again with one question on his mind.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how much did you miss me?

[angellayercake]

The devil is no stronger than a man

Raphael x Haarlep | Raphael x FemTav | NSFW

Tav suffers the consequences of making a deal with the Incubus Haarlep and stealing from their master! Warnings: dubious consent, spanking, face fucking, masterbation. Spiritual successor to this This fic was sponsored by this version of Hellfire

The tavern they had chosen to pass the night was filled with raucous noise. They were not the only group of adventurers seeking rest and refreshment there. The air was buzzing with stories being shared, songs being sung while ample food was passed around and the ale flowed. She lingered over her tankard sloshing the contents around within as the day's events were recounted by her companions. It could only be considered a success, having secured the hammer, avoided signing her soul over to a devil and escaped without having to face his wrath but she still couldn’t bring herself to join in the celebrations. Something felt wrong, felt off. The deal she had made with the Incubus was on her mind but she couldn’t truthfully say she regretted her actions. No, she had enjoyed their attentions thoroughly so much so that she could still feel the pleasurable tingles of their touch, just remembering how they had used their borrowed hands on her body. 

She sighs, downing the rest of the warm ale, giving up on trying to join in the festivities. Because she had reached the crux of the matter. The actual owner of the form she had enjoyed so much only a few hours ago. They had done the right thing, breaking into the House of Hope. No matter how benevolent Raphael liked to make his assistance out to be, he wanted something she wasn’t willing to give. And that’s without taking into account what convoluted caveats and loopholes he might weave into any contract she might sign. She had no doubt that the century’s old devil could twist terms in a way that would take any law man a lifetime to untangle. She had seen the debtors imprisoned in his House of Hope, after everything she had fought and overcome that was not the fate she wanted for her eternal soul. 

She couldn’t help but feel something about the end of their relationship, whatever it was that they had had previously. Something that she couldn’t quite define. At best he would be furious with her, at worst he would be on his way to take back what she had stolen and she would be forced to fight him. She had known this before taking this course of action and yet now it was done she almost felt regret. He had liked her, he had said so himself and despite every good reason against it she had liked him too. Truly, if she was honest with herself it went even deeper than that, the visceral attraction she felt leading her to succumb so easily to his Incubus. Haarlep wasn’t him and yet when they propositioned her using his face, his voice she was powerless to resist. And that memory was all she would have after what they had done. If she was already dwelling on what if’s and could have been she should probably just retire for the night and mope by herself. She bids her companions a good night edging around the bustling tables to the rickety staircase at the back of the room. 

A touch brushes over her ass and she turns abruptly to catch the culprit but no one is there. Perplexed, she continues climbing the creaking staircase when a harsh slap sends her tripping up the final steps. Still there is not a soul near her and yet she can feel the imprint of a large hand burning on her ass. He grips the hand rail, knuckles white as she pauses to let the sensation pass but she can’t suppress a shiver when she feels clawed fingers trace across the would be mark. She glances back at her companions, surely if one of them were responsible, pulling a trick on her they would be watching ready for her reaction but they are paying her no mind. Hurrying up the last few steps to the narrow corridor above she presses her back to the wall, watching her surroundings as she makes her way to one of their shared rooms. It is thankfully empty, giving her the time she needs to understand what is happening to her as she presses her forehead to the warped door waiting for the feeling to subside. Her breath catches in her throat when she feels those same phantom clawed hands digging into the flesh of her ass spreading her open to some unknown voyeur's gaze. Except they are not unknown are they. With Haarlep’s words wringing around her head she suppresses a moan, another hard slap landing directly on top of the first. She knows exactly who is using her.  

__________________________________

He had managed to keep his composure as he had returned to the House of Hope. As much as a significant part of him was screaming to go straight to the boudoir he fought the impulse. He needed to get his house in order before turning his attention there. The hammer was gone as he suspected but surprisingly there was little else missing. His prisoners and other prized possessions were where they should be, some of his papers had been rifled through and read but almost everything else was in place. He was calmer then he had anticipated, this betrayal of his favourite tempering him somewhat. The disappointment at  the end of their tenuous friendly acquaintance dampening the fiery anger that should be burning through him. He at last, heads for the boudoir, surprisingly filled with trepidation at the form he will find lurking within. Haarlep is lounging on the bed, already in her form, but covered in their usual outfit of leather and chains and it is too much he needs to see all of her.

‘What do you think, Master?’ They ask looking at him with their usual brazen provocative manner but it fits ill on her face. His little mouse would never look at him like that. He watches frozen as they run their hands over her borrowed body, up her arms, strong for a mortal but he knows without trying that he could easily restrain her with just one hand. Their fingers trail over her chest dancing around the curve of her breasts cupping them in their palm and thumb stroking over the already hard nipples but they barely linger. Skimming down the curve of her waist and hips before sliding down her thighs dropping her legs open as they reach her knees, revealing her already slick cunt to him. He can’t look away, fighting the urge to take everything he wants right now so it takes a moment to register the fingers drifting up her inner thighs to her core.   

‘Don’t!’ She doesn’t deserve to feel pleasurable touches even second hand as they are. ‘Take it all off and turn around,’ he barks, feeling the expected anger bubbling within him but for entirely different reasons. It is not her in front of him, stripping down and baring herself to his gaze and the knowledge burns him. He transforms into his cambion form too fraught to maintain his human facade, needing to feel somewhat at home in his body even as this unwanted and unexpected feelings itch under his skin. She is there for the taking but it is not the same, not right. But he can do something at least, show her his displeasure. She has left him the key to her undoing and despite his turmoil he will not squander the opportunity she has handed him even as she betrayed him. 

Haarlep finishes removing all their straps and chains, dropping them at the foot of the bed before crawling into position. They arch her back dropping down onto their elbows giving him a perfect view of her rounded rear. Without even thinking he administers a hard quick slap, the crack of flesh meeting flesh resounding through him. Haarlep moans, pushing back into his hand for more but he doesn’t give in yet, admiring the blooming mark he has left, covering her cheek in an angry red. He follows the outline with his claws lost in the thought of all the different marks he could leave on her skin. He notices then, Haarleps heaving breaths, giving him pause. Perhaps in his efforts to punish her he has instead stumbled upon something that causes her pleasure even through the discomfort.

‘Oh my, little mouse,’ he murmurs as he grasps her ass, spreading her open before him. If it was really her he would have had to taste her, to lap at the beads of slick leaking from her but as good a replica as Haarlep could create, the taste would not be true. It seems he needs to change tact if he wants to punish her however. Ignoring her needy cunt he slaps her again, hitting exactly over the mark he had already left her with. 

‘Get up and get on your knees. Now.’ Haarlep rushes to obey, sensing their usual cheek would only infuriate him further. He didn’t want his incubus now he wanted his naughty little mouse. He looks down at her, looking up at him obediently and it makes his stomach churn. He had been hard since he had laid eyes on her body, displayed just for him. He fumbles at his trousers to free his cock, smacking their hands away as they reach to assist. He doesn’t need their help.   

‘Don’t look at me,’ he hisses at the incubus. It’s all wrong, her face but not her soul. Never had he been more aware of his Incubus’ limitations. ‘And open your mouth.’ Obedient again, they open up for him and he wastes no more time. They may be using her body but Haarlep’s talents were still very much apparent as he can sink to the hilt with little struggle. She would gag around him, especially in this form, her face turning red due to her mortal need to breathe. Her wide eyes would be watering from the strain, blinking up at him and beseeching him to allow her air. He pulls out watching the strings of spit break and paint her pretty face, her lips shiny and swollen already. Haarlep breathes evenly but she would be gasping even as he wound his fingers into her hair to direct her back down his cock.  

Her warm mouth welcomes his length, sliding down her throat as he watches her neck bulge to accommodate him. He imagines her distress wherever she is currently camped out, gleefully celebrating her success over him. He would put a stop to that though, thrusting into her harshly. Her gang of miscreants would panic as she choked on the phantom of his length, nothing they could do to ease her suffering. She would be fine though, loathe as he was to admit. He clenches his teeth attempting to stave off his climax and continue her punishment as long as possible. But maybe, his traitorous mind supplies, she would enjoy this too. That even now she would be moaning and writhing for him as he violated her double. She wanted him somehow he knew, requesting Haarlep use his form to fuck her only hours ago. His imagination betrays him, providing the perfect picture of her knelt, grinding on her own fingers as she swallowed everything he gave her.  

He cums down her throat, caught off guard by the strength of his pleasure. A groan rumbles from deep within his chest and he shallowly thrusts through his orgasm but already he can sense he is far from sated. He pulls out of Haarlep, the frustration in his chest solidifying as he tucks his cock back into his trousers. He runs his fingers through his hair pulling at the strands in an attempt to ground himself. He knows not why he is so agitated but he does know it is all her fault. He glares at her form still knelt at the foot of the bed. 

‘You are to stay like this until I command you otherwise,’ he demands of the incubus, turning to stalk out of the boudoir. He needs to work this out of his system, this distraction he can not afford. So many of his plans had fallen through thanks to her petty betrayal, there was much he must reevaluate now she was now longer a piece on his lanceboard. He had to shake these irritating feelings and soon or he would quickly find himself in trouble. 

__________________________________

She had crawled her way to the cot somehow during the onslaught and lies there shaking as everything seems to have stopped. She should feel angry or disgusted or repulsed by his use of her but the only feeling she can muster is frustration. Her body burns, not just from the aftermath of his touch but in need. She could feel how damp her thighs were as she pressed them together in search of any relief. If this was to be how he punished her she wasn’t sure how long she could bear it. Instead of satiating her need for him, her time with Haarlep had only fanned the flames, not satisfied with just having his facsimile. And in her desperation to rid her self of her persistent need she had inadvertently given him the very means to torture her with to his black hearts content. Her hand slips between her legs as she berates herself for ending up in this situation, even as she half hoped that next time he would use her more thoroughly. 

She imagines him fucking her cunt with the ferocity he had used her throat as she slips her inadequate fingers into her soaked hole. Would he fuck her in his human or cambion form? Was there a difference between them? She bites down on the heel of her hand to stifle the moans that want to spill from her mouth as she imagines him taking her. Haarlep had fucked her to maximise both of their pleasure but everything she had learned about Raphael lead her to believe his goal would be his own pleasure. He would take and take and take from her until he was satisfied but she wanted to be used by him, she could admit that now as she shudders and cums around her own fingers. Her limbs go weak as she lies back to catch her breath but even as she comes back to herself, clarity returning, the burning need remains in her gut. She is in so much trouble.

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕝𝕪, 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕘𝕠 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣

ᴘᴛ ɪ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴇ. ᴘᴛ ɪɪ ꜱᴛᴀᴠᴇ. ᴘᴛ ɪɪɪ ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ. ᴘᴛ ɪᴠ ꜱɪɴ. ᴘᴛ ᴠ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ. ᴘᴛ ᴠɪ ꜱᴇɴᴅᴏꜰꜰ.

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴇɴᴛᴀɴɢʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ꜰʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ ᴄᴏᴜɴꜱᴇʟᴏʀ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ ᴀᴜ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ᴡᴀʀꜱ ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, (ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ) ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴀᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ, ɪ ꜱʜɪᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʜᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏɢ (ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀɢꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ/ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ)

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 3ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴀɪɴʀᴏᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀᴜ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ.

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

You try to avoid Hunter at all costs.

The task pertains to be quite difficult, seeing as how frequently your cabins get paired up. And how he (unknowingly) makes you fawn over him even more whenever you spend time with him.

But he stays the same. Relatively. That makes things just a twinge easier.

He still has that gorgeous way he holds himself and the sweet way he is with the campers, giving the kids piggyback rides and exchanging friendship bracelets until his wrists are ill-defined under all the string, but that same sense of his eyes on you is all too common now. He knows something’s up; you’re acting strange—more strange than usual, at least. (You're always a bit of a mess around him).

The point stands, though; you can’t help but feel like you’ve violated his privacy, even if it was an accident. Especially since you can’t get the view of his bare chest and hips out of your mind, how the droplets perfectly cascaded down his skin, and how his strong arms reached up to pull his hair back, taking a deep breath of salvation when he broke through the water. Before you go to bed, in your depraved thoughts that help lull you to sleep, you feel him, how his muscles contrast with the softness of his expression, how his lips might feel against yours, then trailing over your skin lower and lower, to where your heat pools in a sopping center, all belonging to and due to his doing. Oh, to be pressed up against him; to not feel salaciously dirty imagining such fantasies with a fellow camp counselor.

You keep it on the down-low. Spend your time having fun with your campers and gossiping with Mona, finding new locations to sing about in ‘Once there was a Jedi’ before the boys complain the song is getting old. Help Omega finish a lanyard to add to her growing keychain collection adorning her backpack.

Hunter asks you about your behavior eventually, in passing and almost half-heartedly, when your groups cross paths on the way to and from the archery range.

His eyes linger when he walks past. You tense up and anticipate the worst.

“Hey,” is all he says at first. You blink hard, deciding to focus your stare right on his shark-tooth necklace. “Are you okay?”

You nod, unable to form coherent words. He doesn’t respond for a moment, studying your face to see if there’s anything else hidden underneath the surface.

“Are you sure?” He asks, more serious this time. “You just seem a little quiet recently. Avoiding something.”

Hunter barely finishes his sentence before you’re shaking your head aggressively.

“I’m sure!” You sound a little too enthusiastic about your statement, and Hunter frowns. Your eyes widen a little but don’t allow yourself to show your panic any more than that.

“Alright,” he finally says with a shrug, turning to walk away. “See you around, then.”

You let out a sigh of relief, though feel a little bad when he turns away and walks off without a single glimpse back at you. Despite this little detour of awkwardness, you wouldn’t like to be unfriendly. Or not hang out with him at all.

But your campers don’t give you time to think about that when they’re already racing ahead of you, yelling that they can’t be late to the range or else Crosshair will chew them out.

-

You huff and suppress a loud yawn, wiping the hair that’s stuck to your face from all the sweat. The day turned into a restless chase as the girls saw a deer while practicing their archery skills, quickly abandoning their bows and arrows to instead go find the animal they affectionately named Philomena.

They never found Philomena, but instead found what happens when you’re exhausted and stressed.

“You’re all going to stick by my side, understand?” You emphasize, blocking the door so no one can leave before they listen to what you have to say. “No scurrying off because you see a critter.”

The girls don’t look too happy about it, but you’re not about to chase after them again.

You let them out, watching as they trudge in front of you while you wave Mona and Hunter over, both groups already looking like they’re waiting for you. With a tender apology, followed by a ‘not necessary’ comment from Hunter, you all begin to make your way to the trail.

Steady steps and melodic marches keep you sane in the silence save for chirping birds and crunching leaves, the girls oddly silent as you make your way through the bramble. The boys wait for them to speak, and when they don't, they begin to get testy.

"I'm bored!" Ryan whines, head lolling to the sky.

"Hm, are you now?" Jackie, one of Mona's campers, deadpans. 

"Shut up!"

"Ryan. What did we talk about?"

Hunter's stern ream puts Ryan back in his place, and he half-heartedly mutters,

"...Sorry."

It’s not long before the boys' boredom starts to claw at their skin and they begin a game.

“The topic is… fruit!” Nate declares.

“Apple!” 

“Banana!”

“Uh… Cantaloupe?”

“I thought that started with a K!”

Omega and Betty erupt into giggles, and you and Mona exchange looks.

The older girls aren’t as nearly interested in playing any silly games and find more enjoyment in talking about their plans when they go home and see their boyfriends; Mona has to reprimand them when their recollections get too suggestive for the ears of the younger kids.

Meanwhile, you remain healthily spaced out, your gaze often drifting between the cartoon clouds softly floating in the sky and the back of Hunter’s hair where his bandana is tied, too tired to focus on anything else. You’d be completely fine and enthusiastic even if the campers just decided to go up to the spot they’d been planning to go to, watch the sunset, and go back without any deviations in between. That is not how it goes, however.

Your attention is piqued fully when a strewn tree branch renders the walking path clear.

“Hunter!” Cam whines, pointing at the brown twigs and leaves that’d been knocked to the ground beside the larger branch. “I can’t step over it!”

Hunter turns his head a little, which just manages to get you a glimpse of how he bites his lip and lets out a deep exhale before going to help.

He rolls up his sleeves and lifts the branch of the path easily, tossing it to the side brush.

Your eyes almost instantly (and embarrassingly) lock onto Hunter’s forearms slipping out of his rolled-up flannel, the light hair neatly brushed, the tanned and rough skin so perfectly contrasting to the pink and yellow friendship bracelets on his wrists. Fuck, you can’t look away.

Which makes you acutely unobservant of your surroundings.

You step right on a rock and your foot slips.

In your surprise, you almost yell out a rather inappropriate curse word, but you yelp weakly instead as your entire body slides down under the unbalance of your feet and you fall off the path. The dry, rough texture of the ground suddenly turns wet and rather smooth as you fall further, with the entire side of your face getting smushed. You quickly lift your head and sputter out the disgusting taste suddenly covering your tongue.

“Maker!” Is all your grit, jaw slack as you just process what happened to you. Over your shoulder, the sound of small snickers graces your ears, and you want to scowl in whatever direction they’re coming from. No doubt, it’s from Mona’s campers. Teenage girls are mean.

Wet steps come from your side, and you feel a hand on the arm not covered in mud.

“Are you okay?”

The question is pity-doting, worried, and from that voice again. You’re unsure if you should be more embarrassed that you’re drenched in mud or that you’re drenched in mud because of your shameless ogling.

“Yeah, I’m fine." Your words are barely pushing out of your chest as you try to get up. Hunter still has a steady grip on your arm to help you up. “Damn it!” You curse under your breath. Your hand covered in mud brushes your sodden hair out of your face, and you watch his pronounced frown as he looks down at you. “I should uh, probably head back.”

“Want me to come with you?”

It’s the initial reaction of surprise that almost makes you fall back down again.

“I think I could make it back on my own,” you insist, shaking your head as you try to leave his grasp. Hunter moves, remaining in front of you so you can’t leave.

“Are you sure? Because, well, I don’t want you falling again. Your vision’s a little impaired.”

Without any regard for how soiled and gross you are right now, his thumbs reach and softly wipe away the dirt covering your face. Your eyes flutter but remain half-lidded, with the blaring sun right in your line of vision. Hunter’s eyes are on you again.

You feel your heart jump a few notes ahead as his gentle touch sends a shiver down your spine. Taking deep, long breaths to steady your breathing, he continues to wipe away the dirt and mud from your face, and you become suddenly unsure if the heat in your face is from the glare of the sun or your blush.

“Thanks, Hunter,” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods. 

“It’s not a problem. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

That moment, entirely your own, gets tragically interrupted by Mona.

“You two head on back,” she says before gesturing to the campers. “I can handle them myself.”

Hunter whips his head around and yells back, “Are you sure?”

She lets out a dismissive ‘pssh’ sound, waving a hand in the air.

“Absolutely! Just make sure she doesn’t lose her way.”

You chuckle, flashing a daring look in Mona’s direction, before all of your thoughts cease with the feeling of Hunter’s fingers slowly interlocking around your wrist.

“Come on, Maple,” he says, tugging you gently. “Let’s get you back to camp.”

The walk stays relatively silent, save for Hunter’s occasional grunts and your yelps when something eludes your line of sight.

His hand remains locked around your wrist, keeping you no more than a few inches apart as you walk, but you still consciously try and keep a relative distance; this is a burden on him, isn’t it? Hunter’s walking you back to camp while you're covered in mud when he could’ve been watching the sunset and enjoying his night with his campers. You don’t want to make it worse by getting him all dirty too.

Yet you get that same oh-so-familiar feeling again; why does it feel like his eyes are perpetually fixed on you?

When you arrive on your porch, you hesitate before entering. Hunter looks at you, tilting his head while you rock back and forth on your heels.

“Something wrong?” He asks you.

You whine squeamishly, shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“...Don’t wanna track mud inside.”

Hunter's jaw slacks, nodding slowly as he considers an alternate option to wash you off. His scanning, drifting eyes, drinking in your appearance at long intervals, are nothing to read into, you try to assure yourself. How dare your brain indulge in this silly crush when he's simply just a kind person?

“I can just go through the backdoor; it’s fine." You begin to pull away instead, but he tightens his hold and pulls you back. You almost fall into his chest, which would frankly make you feel even worse.

He proposes a new idea.

“How `bout we grab you a hose?”

You blink, then snicker. A smile threatens to crack your expression, and small giggles bubble out of your throat as you try to suppress them. Something in his face is deadly serious. You notice it starkly after a moment, even without the clue his eyes might’ve given you.

“What?” You say, breathy and stunned.

“I’m serious!” His expression softens as he laughs. Your chest doesn't have to be so tight, but it remains stiff under your skin. “It’ll be an easier way to get all the mud off. Then we can wring you off, and you can take a proper shower in your cabin.”

You giggle again, still processing his audacious offer.

“Alright, that could work." You finally settle, still snorting softly to yourself as he lets go of your wrist and leaves you on the porch.

“Don’t move, alright?” He rests a hand in the air, eyebrows raised in an affirming manner. You grin coyly and nod. “I’ll be right back.”

You shrug.

“There’s no place for me to go, really.”

That manages to get a genuine laugh out of Hunter before he scurries off.

When he returns, he gestures to the side of your cabin with two towels in his arms that he sets on the porch while he uncoils the hose from the side. You drop your backpack, shaking off glops of mud that have been collecting on your clothes. You flash Hunter a meek smile when he points the hose at you, still trying to fathom how damn comedic yet productive this is.

“Ready?” He asks with a smile.

You nod, laughing again.

“Fire away, Hunter.”

He turns on the hose.

The first rush of water hits you like a bucket of ice. Your eyes close and your jaw slacks, limbs tensing up. You gasp and shiver, shielding your body with your arms. Hunter laughs.

You gasp at his temerity, tilting your chin up to gawk in what you believe to be his direction.

"Hunter!" You call out his name; the circumstances melt away that strange fear you held to even say it.

"What's up, Maple?" He answers nonchalantly. You mean to gasp in offense again, you really do, but you can't stop your giggling.

“It’s freezing!” You squeal, eyes shut, as you shiver again.

“Colder than the lake water?” He asks, and if your eyes were open you would’ve let them roll to the back of your head.

“Yes! Really damn cold! Kriff !” You allow yourself to swear, not caring about watching your language when no one else is around. He laughs again, but it’s sweet and feels warm in your body in contrast to how cold the water is.

You tilt your head back as Hunter moves the hose over your face, then your hair, getting the last bits off before he turns it off. His eyes are on you; you can feel it, as suddenly there’s one last spray poured onto you that makes you squeak.

Both of you erupt into giggles once he finally decides to stop tormenting you; your eyes are still closed when you feel a towel wrapped around you.

“You alright?” There are calloused fingers by your face, brushing your hair aside and tucking it gently behind your ear. You’re smiling like a damn fool; you know that. But you let yourself, let your eyes flutter open softly, and look into his eyes for the first time.

They’re brown, just like his sister’s.

“Yeah, I’m fine." You respond softly, gripping the towel close to your body. Your clothes have begun to stick to your body, fitting your form and revealing way more than what's appropriate. You shiver again, adjusting to the temperature, and Hunter runs his hands up and down over your shoulders.

Your eyes flutter once or twice, feeling the way his hands run up and down you, soothing your nerves as you steady your breath.

“Good,” He smiles, and you grin back. You bet there’s a sparkle in your eyes, based on the way your stomach leaps and your heart beats in your ribcage. If you look closely enough, you might think you see his eyes flicker like fireflies as well.

The world dissolves; singing birds, rippling water, and the sound of distant campers by the activities cabin are no longer background noises as you look into his eyes. How did you manage to stave off capturing his stare for so long? They’re beautiful. Kind and soft and endearing, like the perfect reflection of afternoon sunlight on sudor. You don’t even dare to blink, lest you waste a single moment getting wrapped in his gaze.

Hunter is the one to break eye contact, breathing deeply and looking down. He licks his lips, keeping his gaze down for a moment before tilting it up again. Your jaw slacks.

“Uh, you should probably take an actual shower now,” he says, stagnating and labored. You take a step back, shoulders slumping.

“Yeah, I should,” you tell him. That smile of his comes back again, and that moment of uneasiness leaves you. He's not unhappy, far from it; looking into his eyes lets you know that.

"Maybe when you're done..." He trails off. Your head follows his movements when he circles you, turning toward the direction of the mess hall. "We can hang out together."

You tilt your head.

"Yeah?"

Hunter shrugs half-heartedly, his smile a little weak with a new sense of insecurity in his actions.

"I mean, we didn't get to see the sunset," he brings up. Your jaw slacks, and your lips part.

"We didn't," is all you say. 

He nods, clicking his tongue.

"We can find our own thing to do." Hunter says it like a statement, something that is sure to happen. He doesn't ask for your input, seeing in your eyes the wistful hope you carry while he stands there. You want to spend time with him. He wants to spend time with you.

"Yeah. Yeah."

Clearly, you've learned from before that you should probably use more words around Hunter before he thinks you're an imp. That doesn't seem to cross his mind as he grins.

"Let's circle back to it when you're out of the shower."

You nod a little too aggressively and speak a little too meekish.

"OK."

Hunter's grin widens to a smile.

"See you soon, Maple."

With his wave, you turn your back and skitter into your cabin; it's only as you're stripping off your damp clothes still insistently clinging to your body do you realize Hunter had been able to see your bra through your white shirt the entire time.

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @mandos-mind-trick @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @andrakass2 @jesjestraverse @ladyzirkonia @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen

[transtalesofdoom]

The Label Thing - personal experience

I've talked previously about labels I've considered, used, or decided not to use in passing. Let's talk about it in a bit more detail!

I like labels. It's a personal preference, and I understand why someone wouldn't, but I like having words to describe myself with. I like having a handful of terms to explain my experiences quickly. I also like knowing that there's more people with these experiences, grouped under my label. Makes it feel a little less lonely.

Before the whole gender thing, I had already picked out the labels of biromantic asexual. Gender never really meant anything to me, and why would I care about stuff like genitals if I didn't intend to interact with them. Opted for bi over pan because it sounded nicer and the flag was prettier.

And then the gender thing happened and I suddenly had an entirely new experience to describe. One that was still developing.

The first day after I had come out to myself, I neither liked the term "man" nor "trans" for myself. Both seemed too solid for what I was. I was a dude or a guy, but a man? There's the whole societal aspect to it, how trans men can get treated poorly for "becoming the enemy", that I won't get into here, but it definitely was at play. And "trans" had an oddly definitive feeling to it. Like I had a gender and goal in mind, when I very much didn't. This was weird to me, because I knew that's not how the label is used. Anything that isn't cis can be labeled as trans. But at first it felt like I was appropriating it.

Nonbinary was a pretty safe catch-all. I was, by the very definition, not binary. Nor did I think anyone else was, but that was beside the point. Genderqueer was another option worth considering, since my gender was most definitely queer, but something about it didn't really click with me. Maybe it was the flag and the fact that certain trans-exclusionists used the same colors because they fancied themselves suffragettes.

I became a little more comfortable with it as the compound of transmasc. That was me. I was transing into the masculine. Not very committal, but a descriptor of what I was up to with the gender.

I still liked the term "woman", weirdly enough. Having watched so many Woman-Power movies (shoutout to Oceans 8 and Birds of Prey specifically), it had taken a while for me to fully embrace that label to begin with, and once I had managed to find it empowering, I didn't want to let go of it again. Even if I was transmasc, "Woman" by Kesha was too good of a song to leave behind. I was a motherfucking woman!

I did a bit more snooping around into other labels to see if anything would stick. I found and read the comics by ND Stevenson, and came across the ones where he describes being bigender. And I liked that description. It resonated with me. Especially because he references the Kesha song, I guess. 'Vibrating between genders too fast to see' felt relatable. So maybe I was bigender?

But I wasn't vibrating between male and female. Those were a part of it, sure, but there was more. And also less. I was every gender and no gender simultaneously. And while that is a possible subgroup of bigender, it once again felt like using the term, although I liked it, wouldn't properly convey my experience.

That night I decided to coin "fuckgender", only to discover that not only did this label already exist, but it also described exactly what I was feeling. (Not to be confused with genderfuck.) And yet, while that was a fun little anecdote, it wasn't what I wanted from a label. And the fact that other people were using it, thereby turning it into a functioning microlabel, made it less appealing to me, somehow.

Instead, I decided to embrace "trans" as an umbrella term for the time being. I didn't really need to define it any further. "transmasculine nonbinary" worked well enough to convey my identity to others. I could elaborate for those who wanted to know more. For myself, the label was the same as my gender. It was kinda there and kinda not, both everything and nothing all at once. More of a general vibe than an actual word.

And that works for now. Maybe that will change. Probably, even. I might embrace bigender, or multigender, I might find my trans experience to be binary enough to go by trans man. Maybe I'll do a U-turn and become a nonbinary woman.

There's only one way to find out and personally, I'm excited for it.

[micamicster]

Now that we know lady parts is doing an album what do you think is a cover song that might actually wind up on it

Ok so the thing is that I actually feel like saira and the band maybe wouldn’t have a cover on their first album? I think it can be risky for a band that’s little known and doesn’t really have an established voice in the public eye to put a cover on a first because they could end up being defined by it. I think they should keep covers to their live shows for now—I can picture how much fun their fans would have participating in the classic punk tradition of passing around bootlegs <3 that said I’ll find the group playlist we made of songs we hope they’ll cover and link it for you here!

[gfriendunited]

Singer-songwriter Yuju On “Dalala”, Liberation And Staying True To Herself

A member of once-famed girl group GFRIEND, singer-songwriter Yuju says one of her most liberating moments is when she strolls down the bustling streets of Gangnam, going unnoticed by anyone.

With a cap over her head and mask covering the face, Yuju says she often goes on such night strolls in the glitzy neighborhood to get closer to the people and feel the energy.

It was on one of those nights that her new song, “Dalala” was born, the singer recalled during an interview with local media on Tuesday. As she watched people with earphones passing on the streets, the first few lines of the song popped up in her mind.

“Dalala” is a song about such liberating sensation. At the same time, it turned out to become a source of liberation in itself, the singer explained.

The new digital single comes six months after she put out her second EP, “O” an autobiographical album reflecting on the emotions she’d experienced in her nine-year music career.

The exhausting production process nudged her into trying something more freewheeling. She found herself humming casually as she tried to release herself of thoughts.

“When people hum a melody that they don’t know the lyrics to, they usually sing ‘dalala.’ That became the first inspiration. Because my previous album was such a contemplative one, I wondered what I would get if I went for the complete opposite and emptied my mind. The song started from such simple curiosity.” Yuju said Tuesday.

“Dalala” is the first song that Yuju has been credited as the main composer and the sole lyricist. The singer recalls this was possible because she didn’t pressure herself to make a song but jumped into the process naturally.

“It was a sort of uncertainty, now I think of it. I didn’t believe I was ready to write my own title track and since there are so many other talented songwriters. For the first time, I broke out of the box and composed. I was confident that this time it was mine.” she said.

The song is a pleasant and easy-listening tune, but Yuju says the process of creating was not a breeze. To deliver her genuine emotions, the singer attempted self-recording for the first time.

“There are ups and downs. I could sing however I wish, but that way, I might get swept by emotions and lose the objective ear. I struggled to keep my balance, while at the same time, holding onto that initial spark in my heart that had turned into this song.” Yuju said.

The music video was an incarnation of the subtle infusion of her reality and fantasy, she said. She worked closely with the music video director to convey her ideas onto screen.

“There’s a scene where I’m dancing alone inside an empty lift. Then someone gets on, and I freeze, embarrassed. Like that, the music video conveys that, although I act as if I’m unconcerned about others, I’m actually not. I suppose it’s something I can tackle with time as I get to know myself better.” she said.

All her music is a reflection of her current self, and despite the song’s cheerful mood, Yuju wanted to make sure that the song and the music video was not portrayed as lighthearted.

“As unintentional as its start may have been, the song was inspired from an idea that resulted from my most pensive period in life. I stressed to the director that I wanted the gravity to show in the beginning and the end of the film.” Yuju said.

Just as “Dalala” had released Yuju from her own bounds, she hoped the song could free listeners, even for about three minutes.

Debuting solo in January 2022, around seven years since her 2015 debut as part of the now-defunct group GFRIEND, Yuju now feels she can rely on herself. The budding singer-songwriter said her goal is to define her own musical genre – “Yuju’s genre” – through her upcoming solo career.

More important for this genre, rather than the musical talent, is staying true to her virtues, she said.

“Music in essence is about empathy, and to do that, I need to strive to stay down to earth and compassionate with others.” she said.

“As an artist, I hope to be independent, capable of making my own music. I’ve always revered people who have a genuine passion for what they do, and I hope that is how I could be perceived in the future.”

[fymoonbyul]

[INTERVIEW] Herald Interview |  MAMAMOO+ hopes to pave new path for girl group longevity

Solar and Moonbyul of MAMAMOO drop 1st EP 'Two Rabbits' as a duo

A decade together has passed already for Solar and Moonbyul of Mamamoo, yet the two singers still feel like fresh rookies, they said in a recent interview.

The interview, conducted with local press on Tuesday in Seoul, came a few days before the duo's subunit return as Mamamoo Plus, with their first EP "Two Rabbits."

Imagining this moment around a decade ago when they first set off as Mamamoo in 2014, Moonbyul said she did not imagine a rosy future just then.

"I thought that my career as an idol singer would not last long, because fame wanes. I'd already been worrying about what I would do 10 years later," the Mamamoo rapper, who has enjoyed quite a stable career as a solo singer, said.

Now she realizes it was all needless apprehension. According to Moonbyul, having accumulated the knowledge and experience of the past 10 years, it is just the beginning for her.

Considering that many new idol singers do not have much control over their career in the early years, especially the first seven when they are tied to the company-friendly contract, Moonbyul's statement may not be an exaggeration.

That's why Mamamoo Plus carries a personal significance for the two, as they willingly chose to come together as a subunit where they could do music to suit their own tastes.

"The two of us always preferred bright and upbeat music, which was what Mamamoo music was in the early stages, but later turned darker. We really wanted to pull up the energy inside us and that resulted in the new song, 'Dangdang,'" Solar said.

"Dangdang" is the lead single on the duet's new album "Two Rabbits," which is set to be released Thursday evening.

The boisterous dance tune with an easy-listening melody and repetitive lyrics was initially intended for a Mamamoo album, but was dropped, the duo explained.

"It was replaced by 'Starry Night.' The situation was complicated, but above all, I had a herniated disk and couldn't dance. Instead of 'Dangdang,' we went for 'Starry Night,'" Solar explained. "Starry Night" led the quartet's sixth EP, "Yellow Flower," which came out in March 2018.

At the time, they only had the chorus for "Dangdang." But Moonbyul said she was gripped by it the instant she heard it, so much so that she wanted to include it on her solo album.

"I felt just like the first line of the song. 'My head is going dangda-dangdang.' I felt numb hearing the song for the first time. But, the song was constantly pushed down the list. I'd kept it in a corner of my mind ever since and brought it back up because it's such a perfect match for Mamamoo Plus' identity," the rapper said.

Upon the prime sound, the two piled on new sounds flourishing with Mamamoo Plus' iconic peppy energy, Moonbyul explained. Their bandmate Hwasa, who contributed to writing the original chorus, is also credited as a composer and lyricist along with the duo.

While the forthcoming album is not the first from the Mamamoo subgroup, the two musicians say it's the album through which they introduce and define the sonic landscape they hope to paint as Mamamoo Plus: innocently uplifting music.

Welcoming listeners into the album is "Intro: Two Rabbits," which sets the foundation of the team's identity, according to Solar. "It plays in the outro of the title song music video, like a foreshadowing of what's to come. It's that significant and has much more to show," she said, expounding on the first track.

One of the tracks, "I Like This," was a song from 10 years ago, she added.

"The members together wrote the lyrics and made the choreography then, but it couldn't come out due to bad timing. I've been hanging onto it since," Solar said.

The fourth track, "Starry Sea," is a melodic hip-hop tune with sentimental lyrics inspired by Mamamoo's "Starry Night."

"Save Me," which was prereleased from the album in July, stands out among the package of perky scores with its calm, doleful tune. Moonbyul took part in writing the melody and words for the song.

Mamamoo Plus came out as the four-member group's first subunit in August 2022 with the first digital single "Better." In March, the duo dropped the first official single, "Act 1 Scene 1," fronted by title track "GGBB" and prerelease "Chico Malo."

According to Moonbyul, "GGBB" and "Chico Malo" were both of distinctively unique styles. The groovy dance-pop "GGBB" and "Chico Malo," a fusion of Korean and Latin sounds, had touched upon the broad musical landscape the two artists were capable of.

With "Dangdang," the two say they hope to reach a larger audience and boost their presence as rookie artists.

"We're pop singers, so it's inevitable that we stay aware of the public reaction. Whether to follow popular trends or to follow our creed is a never-ending dilemma," said Solar, the leader of Mamamoo as well as the subunit.

She continued: "That's why as a soloist I try to do what I want, like the shaved head style I did before. But as Mamamoo Plus, popularity is important as we will only exist as long as people continue to like us and our music."

A No. 1 on any music chart -- and staying on it for multiple weeks -- is the main goal with "Two Rabbits," according to Solar.

Making themselves known and thriving beyond Mamamoo is another goal, Moonbyul added.

Surpassing the high standards set by Mamamoo is a task that all four bandmates of the massively popular K-pop group share as they venture forth to the next stage of their careers.

Moonbyul and Solar remain with RBW, while Wheein and Hwasa left the company with the termination of their exclusive contracts. Wheein departed in 2021 and Hwasa last month.

Although groups tended to disband naturally in such situations in the past, recently many -- the likes of 2PM, GOT7, Girls' Generation and Infinite -- continue as a team despite contractual differences, Mamamoo being one of the latest examples.

"We think we've contributed to extending the longevity (of idol groups), and we feel proud," Moonbyul said, adding, "Even if we all belong to different companies, it doesn't mean Mamamoo has come to an end. We cherish each of our own dreams as much as the group. We'll exist alone yet together."

Solar said Mamamoo Plus will launch its first standalone concert tour this year.

"We're planning to hold concerts within the second half of this year, here and overseas. We expect we'll have many opportunities to meet our fans this year," she said.

Mamamoo Plus' first EP, "Two Rabbits," comes out at 6 p.m. on Thursday.

source

[jeremy-hillary-boob]

I love the new video for Here, There, and Everywhere because it's pretty and fun and very beatle-y, but also because it reminds me so much of paul's comments (I can't find the original quote at the moment, if anyone knows what I'm talking about please add on) about "making up some feelings" to write a song and @zilabee's thoughts about that which pop into my head constantly. short version: I love how this video takes a song that is facially about an individual human subject and instead makes it a love song dedicated to inspiration itself. it becomes a song about the warmth and creativity shared by the group. given the fact that paul apparently wrote this song in john's backyard while waiting for him to wake up AND given paul's special fondness for it as a song john told him he liked*, it's a more accurate interpretation!

there's this imaginary nebulous "she" in the video that is the ostensible object of the narrator's affection, but she's just a symbol or a pleasant hallucination. she's a personification of art and love. she's The Muse. she and the crowds are faceless; the only "characters" with faces and identities are the beatles themselves. when the action directly matches the narration of the song, it's usually referring to what the beatles are doing, not what The Muse is doing - the most literal example would be "changing my life with the wave of her hand" over a shot of the beatles waving at the crowd; a more figurative one might be "knowing that love is to share" over a shot from A Hard Day's Night of the band playing together informally. The Muse's actions in the lyrics are the beatles' actions on the screen.

the scenery is ephemeral and shifts around the group. in the scene copied from Help! where they're playing cards; they stay in a fixed position while the room changes, from one hotel to the next, with different cities visible out the window of the room. they pass from room to train car to press conference to stage, morphing into one another between scenes while also remaining the only unique, clearly defined elements in the story. everything is a hazy and nonspecific dream except for the four of them, the only real things in the room.

and they can only see or be affected by The Muse when they're together! she appears to paul when they're sitting in the studio control room, she appears in the crowd when they're traveling, she appears to george when the four of them are in a hotel room, she moves between them when they're playing on stage. when they're recording, she no longer appears in the shape of a woman and instead her essence takes over the whole studio. she can impact them only when they create her collectively.

what is this song about? nothing and no one, apparently (paul has very little of substance to say about it in The Lyrics, I checked). there's no specific external inspiration for the feelings described by it, but it's paul's favorite of his own songs, because he just likes it, and because john liked it. what about this song is "real?" not the apparent subject. what's real is the band, and the inspiration they create with and for one another.

*which makes this SUCH a delightful companion to the video for I'm Only Sleeping. related side note, I love that "each one believing that love never dies" plays over an image of the four of them sleeping in the back of a car. it ties in beautifully with the other video, the entire theme of which is john dreaming (but don't worry, he's only sleeping). implicitly related pairs of lennon/mccartney songs, my absolute beloved

[kookieswan]

Of Blooms & Bounties - Petunia

Pirate!Jungkook x Explorer!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Pirate!AU, Magic!AU, Semi-Historical!AU, slightly fluffy, very silly.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of prostitution, nothing too serious though!

Summary: Namjoon had wanted the gold, Jimin had wanted the fun, and Jungkook had wanted to lay low. All in all, you’d say that two out of three were successful.

Notes: Here we go, another look into their shenanigans lmao

This is from the Of Blooms & Bounties Series. Find it here!

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“It’s a super simple but very effective plan; Minnie is going to pretend to be Petunia while Tae, Hobi, Jin, and Yoon escort him back to the boat so we can take him home. _____, JK, and myself are going to stay here to make sure nothing tips them off. Pose as customers at the tavern and keep a lookout for Minnie…”

And lookout you do; both you and Joon sitting in the corner of the tavern, eyes scanning the area for the bandits that have purchased Petunias time. It wouldn’t have been as big of a quest to return him home if the man wasn’t expecting customers at almost every hour, but apparently his services are a hot commodity and his boss is… Demanding, which means your options are very slim. The poor man wants wants to to be home with his family again, and since they paid you nicely, it’s the least you can do to help.

“Everything’s going to go to plan, we have the perfect set up.” Namjoon’s dressed down a bit, lacking his usual hat and numerous layers of clothes for a more simple shirt and pants combo. You’re wearing something similar to blend into the background, not wanting to stand out all that much. You don’t think you’ll be found out anyway, not with how intense the partying is tonight.

“I know it will Joon, I’m not worried.” The tavern’s in full swing, a large crowed covering most of the floor space and seemingly very drunk. Other pirates mostly, some prostitutes, even a few performers. The bards play music over the roaring crowed, fun songs you wiggle in your seat to, wishing you could get up and dance.

Min sits idly at the bar, legs daintily crossed in his finest leather pants. He looks dangerous but in the best of ways, his charms drawing in a number of patrons around the shady tavern. He dones a billowy white shirt as well as high laced leather boots, coal around his eyes and red on his lips, the exact look Petunia told his customers he’d be wearing. A little scandalous, a little saucy, a perfect trap.

Kookie had excused himself to hit the toilet a while ago, and so you scan the room to try and spot him in the chaos. It’s a few seconds before he stumbles around the corner, eyes doe like and head swiveling to watch out for your target. It’s a passing thought that he looks pretty, the true flower in your group as he spots you and smiles with his pretty bunny smile as he speeds toward the table.

“Oh, I think this little daffodil is the company we purchased.” You’re so focused on him that you miss the new faces; Jungkook is almost back to the table as he’s stopped, a small hand wrapped around his wrist. He looks down at the small woman as her voice booms out over the patrons, two more women that aren’t much taller by her side. Kookie dwarfs them by quite a bit, tall defined muscles towering over them like a shaking tree. You and Joon both tense, ready to fight this out if things go south.

“I- Huh? Me!?” His voice is frantic but quiet enough you almost miss it. You suppose they’re wearing somewhat similar outfits, but Jungkook has certainly never worn skintight leather pants in his life like Jimin. Trying to hide your giggles as you settle a bit, you swig down your beer and pretend not to notice Namjoon’s bugging eyes. Min watches from across the tavern with wide eyes, lips twitching up and down, clearly not sensing any danger.

“Yes you beautiful, you’re exceptionally stunning. Look at that tiny little waist under that pretty little shirt, I could just eat you up.” Well, things certainly aren’t going as planned… They’re going better. The woman places her hand on Jungkook’s chest, slowly trailing a finger down until she reaches the low-cut collar. It’s humorous how far she has to stretch her arm up, but you remain mostly quite as Namjoon gently pokes your leg, a code for ‘shut up’. Jungkook looks like he’s about to pass out: from the implication of him being a prostitute or from being touched so boldly, you’re not sure.

“Um, yes. Yes that’s right, I-I’m Petunia.” Even with the taverns light being dim, you can still see the pink hue that lights up Jungkook’s cheeks as you glance at him, maybe a little shy but also a little flattered. It’s enough to make you coo to yourself, Namjoon’s slowly lowering his forehead till his face is planted firmly against the table. Your poor captains plans just don’t seem to be owning our recently, a true pity but also a secret blessing. Seeing JK flustered is always a little treat, it makes you wanna melt into a puddle.

“Give us a little dance sweetheart, I’ve heard the way your hips move casts shame on the sea herself.” It’s tense as Namjoon raises his head just enough to watch, Jimin staring with intensity from the bar now. Jungkook clears his throat noisily a few times, then slowly starts to sway his hips to the tune of the bards song.

Perhaps he tends to be a little awkward, maybe a smidge outspoken, but he’s always been stunning. A captivating personality, a beautiful face, and now apparently hips that might be able to rival Jimin’s. The poet sways to the music almost sensually as the women cheer him on, rowdy as the sit at the table relatively close to yours, drinks in hand and eyes shining with glee. There’s a shout for him to “take it off”, and strangely enough, he starts to slip out of his shirt without a second though. Hm.

Glancing over at Jimin with a raised brow, he purses his lips and shrugs, clearly enjoying the show as Jungkook finally trips over his own feet. The crew of women don’t seem to mind though, cheering him on in their drunken state. Namjoon sighs noisily to your right, face defeated as he starts to stand up. It’s an unspoken rule; all damage control is in the hands of the captain.

“… I can’t believe it’s come to this, you all are very lucky I’m a nice captain. Slip out when you can _____, I’m sure Minnie will stick around as a watch out.” Apparently the charade has been going on much too long by Joonie’s standards when in reality, Jimin was supposed to lead them into the alleyway and knock them out. This, however, had been much more fun to watch. You continue to watch with an slightly open mouth as Namjoon swaggers up to Jungkook as he sways around with his shirt now mostly off, hands on his hips. He taps the younger man’s shoulder, Kookie turning and freezing like he’s been spotted by a walbear.

“Petunia! How COULD you!?!?” Namjoons voice is shrill over the music, some people turning to stare, others not caring at all. It takes everything in you not to cackle, and so you down the rest of your beer to keep quiet. If you thought Kookies acting was bad, well…

“W-what?” JK looks like he’s nearly about to cry, eyes big and watery as he stares up at Joonie. You can’t see the other man’s face, but something must silently cross between them because Kookie noticeably relaxes in the next few seconds.

“I can’t believe you’re dancing for other people again, you-you harlot! That’s it! I’m taking you home to our eight children!” … Eight? That’s quite a lot. Namjoon actually picks up poor Jungkook and runs out of the building with the smaller man over his shoulder, the three women who bought his time gaping like little fishies. Things could have went a lot worse if they weren’t such a lighthearted and very drunk crew…

Standing slowly from the table, you notice Jimin had departed from the bar at some point, now standing close to the entrance and watching you with expectant eyes. Grabbing your duster, you walk past the women and hide your grin as they mourn the loss of Petunia quite loudly. Jimin ushers you out of the tavern, leading you to the alleyway behind it where the two other men are waiting.

“Woooow JK, that was quite the performance love. Outshined me in every way.” Jungkook starts to sputter and hides his face as Jimin laughs at him, not cruelly but with clear intention to tease. Namjoon just sighs and pats the youngest man’s back, trying to comfort him as he attempts to get over the loss of his own dignity. You silently grab JKs hand, rubbing your thumb against his warm honey skin comfortingly as he glances at you with a shy smile.

“…The things I put up with for some gold. I’m about to walk my own planm”

[senditcolton]

A Real Fucking Legacy

summary: you met Joel by accident at a party one night. afterwards, your connection grew into something... something that has never been defined. 

songs: X X  word count: 3.5k warnings: smut and unresolved angst! flashbacks in italics!!

You watch as the flashing red lights shine through your windows and onto your ceiling, the sound of the car driving past the only noise in the late night.

You could not fall asleep. Nothing you did, nothing you tried, seemed to make sleep come faster. Instead, you were passing the time tossing and turning in your sheets, staring up as the lights from the city painted the white ceiling above you.

Why couldn’t you close your eyes and fall into dreamland? The answer to that was easy for you to decipher.

It was because of him.

The party was loud. That was the simplest way to describe it as you weaved through the press of bodies in the living room of the unfamiliar house. Why were you here? You had no clue. An acquaintance of yours threw the invitation into your work group chat, inviting everyone to their friend’s party. And for some reason, you decided to come. Just to get out of your house. And it was nice but man, it was crowded.

That was the only thought in you mind as you push through the bodies, moving stealthily to escape the heat and claustrophobia. You were doing a pretty good job of it until someone jostled your body and threw you into the tall frame of another, causing the glass of red wine in the stranger’s hand to slip from and spill all over your pale green t-shirt.

“Oh shit, fuck, I am so sorry,” you hear the stranger say, his hand flailing around you as you stand there in shock. “Are you okay? I am really sorry.”

“I’m – I’m fine, thanks,” you say, shaking the lingering liquid off your skin, trying to fight off the heat threatening to rise to your cheeks at the attention your mishap was drawing. “No worries, could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Yeah, sure, I guess, but I’m seriously really sorry. Here – um – follow me,” he continues, taking your hand in his before you even had time to respond and tugging you through the crowd, up the staircase and pulling you along before he opens up a door, escorting you into what appeared to be the master bedroom. The hubbub of this entire affair has left your mind reeling so much that you let him continue to pull you along. He doesn’t let go of you until you are in the master bathroom, where he drops your hand to grab a washcloth, running it under cold water before handing it to you.

“For your shirt, uh, to try and clean it,” he explains and you gingerly take it from him.

“Thank you,” you reply, wiping the stain on the fabric, watching as it seems to dissipate but feeling your shirt get more sodden. The stranger is still awkwardly standing across from you, watching you work for a few moments before disappearing through another door. You don’t pay it much mind, confused about the progression of these events anyway. He eventually reappears with something in his hand.

“Here. It’s a clean – dry – shirt for you.”

“Do you just, spill your drinks on people and then steal shirts from random closets?”  

“Well, it’s my closest so… I’m not technically stealing,” he explains, a crooked grin appearing on his face.

“Oh,” you say softly, unfolding the washcloth and hanging over the towel rack to dry. “Well, I can’t accept that. I’ve already caused you too much trouble.”

“First off, it was my fault,” he replies, his voice light. “And second, you have to.”

“I have to?” you question. “And why is that?”

“Because, how else am I supposed to see you again? If you have my shirt…” You can’t stop the surprised laugh that falls from you.

“Is this your go-to method for flirting? Spilling your drink on people and forcing them to accept your shirt so they have to call you back?”

“Well, if it works, I might have to add it into my repertoire,” he laughs back.

You are not blind to the fact that this could have been weird, maybe even creepy if it happened with anyone else. But with him, it was clear that he was just trying to be nice, adding a bit of humor into an otherwise embarrassing moment. You still let him sweat it out a little bit, making him stand there with the shirt extended awkwardly before you take it from his hand with a smile. He smiles back at you, a sparkle in his eyes.

“I’m Joel, by the way.”

Looking back, you wouldn’t have thought that that night was going to be the source of all your troubles, turmoil and tears. Because at the beginning of your time with Joel, it felt good. It felt right. It felt easy.

The sound of your combined laughter bounced off the vaulted ceilings of Joel’s empty living room, the noise of it drowning out the vinyl of The Lumineers Cleopatra currently spinning on repeat. The weight and warmth of his hands feel nice as they caress the skin around your ankles while you lay back with your feet in his lap, the soft material of the rug pressing against your shoulder blades.

You stay relaxed in that position for a moment before you feel a cool glass press against your thigh. Lifting your head, you see Joel extending the bottle of rose to you, already half-drunk. You raise your torso, leaning back on one of your hands while the other takes the wine from him, lifting the bottle to your lips as you take a sip.

While you drink, you watch as Joel takes a look around the room, his eyes blinking a few times in confusion. You wait for him to look back to you with that adorable eyebrow furrow.

“Wait,” he says. “How the fuck did we end up on the floor anyway?”

“You really have to ask?” you reply as you wave the wine bottle in the air between the two of you.

“I suppose your right,” he laughs, watching you as you take another swig from under hooded eyes. “It’s nice though.”

You hum before turning your body, not getting up but stretching towards the small end table, attempting to place the wine safely on top. You are aware of Joel’s hands still on you and you falter for a moment when you feel his hands creep up the back of your calves and you can’t stop the soft gasp that falls from you as you feel his fingers just barely graze just millimeters from your inner thighs. You flip you head back to him, the questioning grin on your face to which Joel just responds with smile of his own.

This continues until you finally spin back to your original position, propped up on your elbows with your feet in his lap.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you tease, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Nothing,” he replies, his fingers still tracing shapes on your legs. “Just admiring how soft your skin is.”

Another hum comes from you as you look at him, trying to decide how you wanted this to go. But the palpable energy surging between the two of you makes your choice simple. You reach down towards his hands, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and slowly, deliberately, pulling his hand up, letting his fingers dance across your thighs, your hips, your waist. You continue the journey until his fingers are just grazing your collarbones, neck, jaw, until you bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing kisses onto each of his fingertips.

Joel keeps his eyes locked on you as he watches your movements, allowing you take the lead. But as soon as you kiss his thumb and let it gently pull your bottom lip down, your grip releasing his wrist as you graze your own hand down his forearm, his composure finally snaps. You gasp as his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you forward as his other hand pulls one of your feet out of his lap, opening your legs so he can slot himself between them. You fall backward, letting Joel’s body weight cover you. He leans in, pulling your face even closer to his until your foreheads are touching.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, breaths intermingling, almost daring the other to make the first move.

In the end, it didn’t matter because it seemed as if the both of you surged forward at the same time, your lips clashing together. Your arms found their place around his shoulders, hands nestling into your hair as you tug him impossibly closer. His own hands pull you closer as well, the one on your neck still pressing you tugging you towards him while the other grazes down your side, sneaking under the hem of your t-shirt, his hips rolling against yours exquisitely.

You were so caught up in the feeling of him that the rest of the world faded away. So much so that you didn’t hear the cautious warning playing from the speakers.

“Heaven help the fool who falls in love.”

That memory heats up your skin as you sigh back into your pillow, the hours still passing as your mind replays the moments that you two shared. You would be lying to yourself if you said some of these sleepless nights were caused by those specific memories; the ones that made your heart race and your body keen. But that could have easily been blamed on the fact that so many sleepless nights with him were the source of many of those moments.

You were up late waiting for Joel to come over.

He had texted you after the game, wanting to see you and you didn’t even have to ask why. You had been watching. And it was rough for all the Canadiens but especially for Joel, who seemed to get called for every penalty (sometimes justified, sometimes not) which lead to multiple powerplay goals by the Canucks and eventually a 5-1 loss.

You reclined in your bed, the comforter pulled over you as you mindlessly scroll through your social media feed while you wait. It isn’t long until you hear the front door open and you manage to place your phone onto your nightstand as soon as Joel steps into your bedroom.

He doesn’t say a word before he is striding over to you, grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to kiss you: deeply, desperately. You respond in kind, arching up to meet him as your lips and tongues continue to dance against each other. Joel’s hands fall from your face as he hastily pulls away the sheets, exposing your body to the cool air. You gladly let him, tugging similarly at the fabric of the t-shirt that covers his frame. He breaks from the kiss to rip the material away before leaning back down, his lips now attaching to your neck, slowly moving down.

Pausing at your collarbone to mark your skin, you whine, arching your body to get closer to him, relishing the feeling of his hands sneaking up underneath your oversized sleep shirt to graze against your ribcage, his fingers brushing against the delicate sensitive skin of your breasts. It feels heavenly but you want more, your body rolling with your silent request.

Joel picks up on it easily, his hands falling from your chest down your hips until he finally places one between your open thighs, groaning against your neck when he feels the wetness of your pussy underneath your underwear. He presses his fingers against your slit, causing the damp patch to bloom across the soft cotton as your hips buck up to meet him, needing him to remove that final barrier between you two.

He obliges, hand raising only to grip the waistband and pull the fabric down your legs before his fingers return, sliding up and down your folds, collecting your slick before pressing into you. You let out a soft moan as his fingers move within you, thrusting at a deep and leisurely pace, spreading you open. Your head is spinning from the motion of his hand alone that you don’t even register the rest of his body moving downwards until your feel his plush lips connect with your clit.

The moans that escape you get louder as his tongue moves in tandem with his fingers, circling around your clit as your hand reaches down to tangle in his hair. Your hips absentmindedly aid in him in his movements, grinding up to make his fingers go even deeper. It isn’t long until the dizzying sensation of his mouth and hands brings to your peak, your body stiffening as your orgasm rushes through you.

Joel slows his movements, helping you come down before he disappears from between your thighs. Your eyes are heavy from the haze of your post-orgasm but you still manage to look up at him, watching as he shucks off his athletic shorts, leaving him bare before you. He slowly climbs over you, capturing your mouth in a gentle kiss before breaking away again. You feel his hands tug at your hips, encouraging you to turn over onto your hands and knees.

You respond quickly to his silent request, settling yourself into this new position; your chest against the sheets, your hips up in the air. It doesn’t take long before you feel Joel hard against you, whimpering as he rubs the head of his cock down your pussy a few times, collecting the lingering wetness from your previous orgasm before sliding into you.

You moan into the pillow as he begins a slow pace, practically grinding into you, making you feel him deeper than you thought possible. Eventually, his pace quickens, pulling delectable sounds from your throat as he fucks you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You relax against the sheets, happy to let him take what he needs, relishing in the sensation of his hard cock sliding against your walls.

The gasp that falls from your lips is involuntary as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your torso up off the bed and holding you against him, your back to his chest as he groans in your ear, lips attaching to the column of your neck. You writhe within his grasp as this new position allows him to graze your g-spot with every thrust, the sensation heightened when he spreads his hand across your lower stomach and presses down, causing your pussy to flutter and clench around him. It only takes a few more thrusts before Joel hits his peak, his teeth grazing over the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he moans against your skin. It is that combination of feelings that pushes you over the edge as well, tightening around him, your thighs quivering with the effort of remaining upright.

You relax against Joel’s chest, his muscular arm still wrapped around your waist as you both catch your breath, his lips coming to press against your temple. Eventually, you two untangle from each other, taking time to clean up before you are collapsing back into bed together, your head resting against his chest, his fingers brushing up and down your side.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask him, your soft voice breaking through the night.

“Not tonight.” You respond with an understanding hum, curling deeper into his side. The two of you lay there silently for a moment before you look up at him.

“For what it’s worth,” you say, calling his attention back to you, “I think you are an amazing person.”

Joel doesn’t respond but in the miniscule light creeping in from your windows, you can see his lips curl in a smile before he is pulling your face up to his.

And you can’t ignore the fluttering of your heart as he kisses you. Like he loves you.

From anyone else’s point of view, the dappled light on your ceiling hasn’t changed at all. But you knew it had. You had been watching the shadows move and stretch as the hours pass with no reprieve in sight. You hated how much he haunted you. Hated that you could pinpoint where it went wrong. Hated that a part of you still blamed yourself for how it ended.

Your let out a gasp, your body collapsing against the sheets as you relax your shaking muscles, your throat dry from calling our Joel’s name. You hear his own sheets rustle through the speaker of your phone, his breathing coming in ragged pants. Once your heart stops threatening to beat out of your chest, you reach across the bedspread, taking your phone off speaker and holding it to your ear.

“Fuck, that was – mmm,” Joel says on the other end of the line, still trying to form coherent sentences.

“Yeah, it was,” you giggle, earning a small chuckle from Joel in response. The silence stretches in between you two, feeling almost as far as the distance from Montreal to Florida where he was currently, calling you instead of going out with his teammates to celebrate their win. It made you feel special.

And perhaps that feeling was what fueled your next words.

“Hey Joel,” you say, hearing a quiet hum from him in acknowledgement. “What are we?”

“What do you mean?” he says, his voice strangely non-committal. The minute you sense that in his tone, your brain screams at you to back off. But your heart needs to know so you press forward.

“I mean, like, are we dating? Are we friends with benefits? Am I just a booty call? I – I just want to know,” you continue, your voice becoming a little unsteady. “Because, I um… I like you. A lot and um, I just want to know how you feel about me.”

If there was silence before, it has now multiplied ten-fold, weighing heavy and oppressive over you as you wait for a response. You hear him heave a sigh and you swear you can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you listen for his next words. And you feel it drop into your stomach when Joel does speak.

“Babe, it’s um – it’s late,” he begins and you sit up in your bed, pulling the covers tightly around your body. “And uh, I’m not sure we should be having this conversation over the phone.”

“Yeah,” you say, slightly shaking your head. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Sorry.”

“Hey, I promise, we’ll talk when I get back to Montreal, alright?”

“Alright, that sounds good,” you say, your eyes blinking rapidly as tears start to well without your permission, your brain yelling at you for saying too much.

“Okay. Good night.”

“Night.”

That was the last time you talked to Joel.

He ghosted you. Completely and utterly ghosted you. When he flew back to Montreal after that night, he didn’t reach out to you at all, not even some cheap throwaway text message saying you were through. You sent him a few messages, called him a few times just trying to connect with him even for a moment but after getting no response at all, your contact started to fade until you stopped trying.

Instead, you started trying to forget him.

That’s what you were doing currently, lying awake in your bed, watching as your bedside clock changes, displaying the row of numbers reading 3am. You were trying to forget him. But it wasn’t working. Three months of no-contact, three months of attempting to push him out of your mind and it wasn’t working. You still woke up with the memory of him hanging over you.

Another breath of a sigh escapes you as you grab your phone from the nightstand, pulling up his number, the one that you knew you should have deleted long ago but just didn’t have the heart to. Before you could even process what you were doing, you were hitting the call button, holding the device up to your ear and listening to it ring.

You get his voicemail, exactly what you were expecting to receive and you listen to his message, not able to stop a smile from appearing at the sound of his voice. The harsh tone comes and you pause, trying to piece your words together.

“Hey, Joel, it’s um – it’s me. I, uh, I don’t really know why I’m calling. I guess I just, um,” you sigh, sniffling quietly as you fight back the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes. “I, uh –” you breathe, a hand running through your hair. “I miss you.”

You let the words linger for a moment before you sniff again, clearing your throat before continuing.

“So, yeah I gue- I guess that’s it. Um… sorry for calling you so late and I um, I – yeah. G’night.”

You quickly hang up the phone, placing face down on your nightstand before burrowing deeper under your covers, a few tears slipping from your eyes and down your cheeks. The exhaustion finally and blissfully catches up to you as you manage to fall into a deep and dreamless slumber. You don’t wake up until the sun is high in the sky, not even when your phone buzzes with the notification of a text message coming through.

Joel I miss you too. Message received on March 23rd at 6:57am

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