#not like competition or trying to be the best or anything it’s like i feel like I’m constantly having to prove to myself that im a good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

foreverisntenough · 1 day ago

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‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 8 - Caught in The Kitchen, Hidden in The Bathroom | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

You and Trent were cuddled up on the couch, a blanket draped over both of you as the late afternoon sun streamed through the living room windows. The air was warm, filled with the soft murmurs of a documentary neither of you were paying much attention to. Instead, the two of you were locked in a lazy conversation, your head resting against his chest while his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders. You leaned into Trent’s chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him and enjoying the comfort of his steady heartbeat. Trent chuckled, recalling a memory that had resurfaced the other week. Recently you and him went to the park you’d gone to a lot growing up. A park where Jack and all his friends would play footie in and you’d tag along for a glimpse of your teenage crush. But this other week in that very park, your crush, Trent, had given you a daisy and confessed something that had long lingered on your mind. Did he even notice you back then? He was about to tell you.

“Baby, you know how we went to the park the other day?” He asked and you hummed confirming. You tilted your head up to look at him, your curiosity winning over the quiet comfort of the moment. “It’s just I was thinking – it’s funny because…” he began to speak, stumbling through words, his voice soft and nostalgic, “I honestly had the biggest crush on you, even then, when we were younger. I wish I was braver to have done something but instead… you know, I just used to try so hard during those pickup games with Jack and all the lads if I knew you were there watching.” He smiled, almost beginning to laugh at himself. You tilted your head up to look at him, narrowing your eyes playfully.

“Are you implying that you have a crush on me now?” You cheekily asked and he rolled his eyes. “Baby…” You pouted patronizingly at him with a tease. “But also, no. No, you didn’t,” you teased a little more, a smile spreading across your face. “You simply wanted to win those games. You’re the most competitive person I’ve ever met. I was not your concern!” He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest.

“Fairs, that’s true that I wanted to win,” he admitted, Trent grinned, his dimples deepening as he recalled the memory, “but I swear… I mean I could even make pinpoint accurate passes then but I was purposefully mishitting the ball just so it’d end up rolling near where you were sitting. You were definitely a concern every time you showed.” He told you. “I mean, you know me always want to show off a little, especially for you.” He chuckled, but his eyes softened as he looked at you. You giggled a little smitten hearing his admission, covering your mouth with your hand at the revelation.

“You’re not serious…” you asked, smiling at the idea of him planning such an elaborate yet subtle way to get your attention - risking his performance in front of others just to get to you? You couldn’t believe it. He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he replied. “I’d watch out of the corner of my eye, praying you’d look up or notice me. Even if you just rolled your eyes at us, it was worth it.” You couldn’t stop smiling, the memory taking you back to those carefree days.

“That’s so dumb,” you said, but your voice was warm and full of affection. “For a few reasons, first off you knew I was watching just for you, Jack was shit at footie so I wasn’t exactly coming to watch him.” You both laughed. And he pulled you in a little tighter listening intently for hopefully a less humorous secondary reason. “But also because I was just trying to get you to notice me. I’m impressed with myself that you thought I was just hanging out. I used to try to act all nonchalant, you know? Like I was beyond uninterested. I would say I didn’t want to go tag along with Jack to my dad again and again but an hour later – I was dressed….” You went to keep speaking but Trent cut you off.

“And you always looked beautiful by the way.” He told you. Butterflies filled your stomach for your current and younger self knowing the extra effort you put in to go to the park had Trent noticing. It wasn’t anything elaborate but your slicked back bun was done well, you’d have your jewelry on, a nice matching sweat set. Simple but evidently… very effective…eventually.

“You’re sweet. But it was a facade. I’d just sit on a bench purposefully making sure I was in view or if it was warmer, I’d be picking at the grass, always ‘annoyed’ and waiting for Jack to be done, but in my head… I was praying you’d come over and say something, anything really.” You giggled, almost embarrassed you were admitting you’d been trying so hard. Trent’s eyebrows shot up, a look of disbelief and amusement crossing his face.

“Nah,” he said, his hand moving to cradle the side of your face. “You were hoping for me to come over? Babbyy…” He drew out the word with a frown, not dramatically, not teasingly like yours before but just with a bit of a pout. You nodded sheepishly, your cheeks flushing with the shared embarrassment and sweetness of young, unspoken crushes.

“Yeah, well…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Every single time. I’d always come for you. To watch you playing– I think I must’ve met some of the other boys ten times over before I even knew their names. All I wanted… I was just hoping you’d notice me.” You told him. Your words flaring with a smile and then fading out into almost a pang of sadness. Trent felt the switch. He shook his head, but kept a smile full of wonder and nostalgia on his lips.

“I noticed.” He reassured you, kissing your temple. “I noticed you probably the first time you showed. I had to play it cool though. It was long.” He laughed. “Kind of mad, we went from that to this, no?” he murmured letting you know he understood how crazy this relationship was and how long it had been building for. You looked into his eyes, the space between you shrinking as your faces drew closer.

“I guess it couldn’t stay under the surface forever. Was bound to bubble over,” you said, a laugh escaping your lips. Trent leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours, the kiss sweet and unhurried, as if savoring the lost moments from your past.

“And bubble over it did. No matter how long it took… I’m glad I’ve got you now.” He pulled back just enough to whisper. His thumb traced your cheek as he looked at you, his gaze full of warmth and contentment. You nodded, resting your forehead against his. The whole room slipped into a euphoric still. But then you thought back to those long days at the park, where you’d sit off to the side, pretending not to care but secretly hoping for any attention. Your dad said it’d be good for you to be with Jack and his friends. Layla would even sometimes join you, but mostly because it was just so hard to sit at home at your old house that was filled with so many memories and so you went. You went as an escape and a part of that very escape was your developing feelings for Trent. You felt the lump in your throat form but you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to bring in all of those emotions and so instead you opted for another sweet joke.

“You know, whenever a ball came over… I just thought that was shit aim,” you teased, nudging him lightly. He feigned a hurt expression.

“Aye, aye, aye, relax. My accuracy has always been top tier. Was doing it on purpose.” His voice softened, but it flared with cheek and competitiveness just the way you liked it. “I just wanted any excuse to get near you.” He cooed. You giggled, a wave of nostalgia washing over you.

“I used to trot over to grab it but you used to look so uninterested in me, like you were too cool to care about any of it, about me,” he said, shaking his head recalling how rattled he felt but how determined he became. You smiled feeling like that wasn’t the case. You tried to play nonchalant but you were screaming inside. “I thought you were impossible to impress.” Trent laughed, his eyes lighting up at the image. “But then I started smiling at you, I’d shoot you a wink and then maybe just maybe sometimes I think I caught you watching just for me.” He smirked. You bit your lip, feeling a tinge of embarrassment that he noticed but also amusement.

“What was I meant to do!” You yelped. “I wanted you to think I was cool,” you admitted, “ but then I crumbled…. as you well know. You were always so loud and confident, it was hard to not look. Even back then, you knew you were good.” He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyebrows raised.

“I tried to impress you. But to be fair, I knew I could,” he said smugly, the playful arrogance in his voice making you laugh. “But I think you’re underselling how good I really was. It was pick-up footie with schoolmates then I’d bounce off to the academy. You were watching because you knew I was the best one there.” He joked but also semi serious wanting to hear your confirmation he was the best. You rolled your eyes. You remembered once gushing to Layla about how good Trent was, that it was hot to see someone so talented at something. She teased you about having an easy way to become a wag. But that wasn’t it. He could’ve just been Jack's friend. The bouncing off to the academy after was the thing you cared about the least.

“Yeah, exactly that.” You sarcastically snapped back. “More like, I was just waiting for you to make a fool of yourself,” you joked, your grin widening. “Skying the ball over the bar because you had to take every free kick.” You teased and Trent’s eyes widened but you could feel him loving the banter. Loving it secretly even more than a compliment. “Honestly, I think I’d have been a better player than you if I had joined the games.” You told him with faux seriousness. Trent’s jaw dropped in mock offense.

“Excuse me? You think you could strike a better dead ball than me? ’Got a better right foot than me?” he asked, his voice incredulous but his eyes gleaming with excitement. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him further, leaning in closer with a smug smile.

“Absolutely. I’d have shown you up, easy. Just didn’t want to embarrass you.” You quipped. He pulled away from you immediately, his face contorting into an exaggerated expression of shock that soon melted into a cheeky grin.

“Yeah? That so?” he questioned, his tone full of playful challenge. “Alright then, if you’re so confident, you’re gonna have to prove it.” Before you could respond, he suddenly stood up from the sofa and, in one swift motion, scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder. You let out a surprised squeal, half-laughing and half-protesting as he carried you toward the glass doors that led to the back garden.

“Where are we going?!” you shrieked, still laughing as he ignored your protests.

“To the back garden,” he declared, a competitive glint in his eye. “If you’re so good, you’ve got to show me right now.” You couldn’t stop laughing, your heart racing with the thrill of his sudden challenge.

“T! You’re being ridiculous!” you managed to say through your giggles, but deep down, you loved every second of it. Trent carried you effortlessly through the house, your squeals and laughter filling the living room as he made his way toward the glass doors that led to the back garden. You squirmed in his hold, trying to wriggle free, but he only tightened his grip around your waist, his laughter rumbling through his chest. “Trent!” you cried out, half laughing, half gasping. “Put me down! I’m not even dressed to go outside!” He grinned at your complaint, completely unbothered, and slid open the glass doors with one hand. The crisp air of early evening swept in, the sky had begun to turn shades of navy streaked with orange. He stepped out onto the grass, finally setting you down but keeping a firm grip on your shoulders to stop you from escaping.

“You think you’ve got a better right foot than me, yeah?” he challenged, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well… go on then. Show me what you’ve got.” He mocked you as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to feign an air of confidence even though you knew this was ridiculous.

“I can’t play like this!” you protested, gesturing to your outfit—cozy lounge shorts and an oversized jumper of his but most of all slippers… hardly proper attire for any football.Trent raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a grin.

“Excuses already?” he teased. “And here I was, thinking you’d at least try to back up all that talk.” You stuck out your tongue at him, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Fine,” you conceded. “But don’t cry when you realize I’m actually better than you.” You were talking a good game but even with your decent athleticism aside… you were mildly nervous but you continued to joke about. “You’re not cute when you lose.” You teased him recalling all the times he’d simply lost a board game and how he’d pout. Annoyingly, it was actually cute but you’d tell him otherwise for the sake of banter and the moment. He laughed, and the sound was warm and bright in the fading sunlight.

“I’m not a sore loser!” He yelped and you raised your brow silently telling him to be realistic. He was a bad loser. “Nah, alright, if you embarrass me, I’ll retire from football right now,” he joked, stepping back to give you space. “But I won’t hold back.” You rolled your eyes, feeling the playful competitiveness radiate between the two of you. He jogged off to a shed tucked in the corner of the garden where he had a ball stored, The game about to start as a lighthearted test of skill, with both of you brimming with playful energy. Trent, competitive as ever, had made sure to set the stakes high, a teasing grin stretched across his face as he dropped the ball onto the grass and rolled it toward you. The moment the ball reached your feet your heart slowed. You weren’t sure how serious either of you were being. This was a joke, right? What if he thought you were shit? What if he thought you were trying too hard? Nevertheless, with an exaggerated flick of your hair, you picked your head toward him.

“Ready to lose?” you taunted. He feigned a look of horror but then smiled.

“Never, baby,” he said, already moving into a more defensive position. “I rarely do.” He reminded him. You squared your shoulders, and with a grin, you nudged the ball forward with your foot, feeling your heart race. You took a step forward with it. Trent was all playful resistance, putting on his most intimidating game face while still clearly holding back. You juked left dramatically as a joke as if you were actually going to try to go past him and both of you bursting out into giggles. But still you took one more little jab at the ball just to edge it past him amidst the laughter—though, admittedly, it was more because he was enjoying the moment than you actually outplaying him. He turned round and dragged the ball back with his feet. He was going to be offensive now. Trent tapped the ball lightly, his feet dancing around it with a series of quick step-overs and fancy tricks, every movement of his ridiculously smooth. At first you were momentarily mesmerized, seeing it all so close up for the first time. You were experiencing a, yes, exaggerated, humorous, and overzealous, performance of his, but still, close to what it was like to face someone like him on a pitch. You stuck your leg out attempting to poke the ball away or pull it back to you, trying to swipe the ball away from him. He sidestepped easily, a laugh bursting from his lips, not mockingly just teasingly, as he kept the ball just out of reach; enjoying this way too much.

“Okay, okay, you can stop showing off!” you complained, trying to keep up, but he only chuckled, now purposefully dribbling circles around you. You stopped trying minutes ago. You, frankly, never really gave any of this silly game much effort.

“I thought you said you were better, no?” he teased, his voice full of mischief. His eyes glinted with pure joy, and you couldn’t help but smile even through your feigned frustration. Trent loved being good at things and this… winning a challenge, playing football… he was good at. The cool air was biting at your skin, but the warmth of the moment made it hard to feel anything but happiness. “Come on, you’re not even trying!” he taunted, shifting the ball back and forth with smooth footwork. He wanted you to actually try but you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of him. Feigning annoyance you groaned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Fine. If that’s how you want to play it…” You pretended like you were about to actually give it a go but you decided on a different tactic. With a devious smile, you waited until Trent had planted the ball under his foot, taking a moment to catch his breath while still managing to look smug. Then, without warning, you launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his waist from behind and dragging your whole weight against him. Trent stumbled slightly, his laughter ringing out into the garden.

“Oi! Ref!” he shouted, his voice full of playful outrage. “That’s a foul! A yellow card for sure! Get her off the pitch!” You laughed, clinging to him tighter. He twisted around in your embrace, trying to keep the ball pinned under his foot, but he was losing the fight. His laughter made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but grin as you pressed your cheek against his back, feeling the warmth radiate from him. Trent’s laughter began to subside, and he tried to turn his head to look at you, his eyes dancing with delight. “You’re a snake! You think you’re sneaky, huh?” he teased. “Trying to take me out by cheating?” You giggled, unrepentant, as you slid your hands from his waist up to drape them around his neck.

“What? Me? Never.” Leaning up, you began to plant soft, ticklish kisses along his jawline, moving up to his ear and whispering, “You know, if you’d just given me the ball, I wouldn’t have had to resort to these tactics.” Trent stumbled a bit more, his knees almost buckling as he tried to resist the effect you had on him. His hands moved to hold your arms, and you took the opportunity to pepper even more kisses along his neck. Finally, he twisted fully around, his smile bright and wide, but before he could say anything more, you leaned up and kissed him properly. His eyes widened for a second, but he melted into it, the laughter leaving his body as the energy shifted between you. The kiss started sweet, the two of you still grinning against each other’s lips, but then Trent’s hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, and you could feel his breath hitch as he gave in.

“That… that was definitely a red card.” He pulled back just a fraction, his lips barely brushing yours as he whispered. His voice had dropped, becoming huskier, and you shivered at the way he looked at you. The playful atmosphere morphed into something more electric, more intense, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat rising between you. You met his gaze, your heart pounding.

“Oh? A red card, really?” you murmured. He nodded slowly, his eyes darkening as his hands moved from your back to cup your face.

“Yeah. But we can play on. I’m not sure I mind your tactics,” he whispered. His fingers traced your jawline, and the way he looked at you made your knees weak. The playfulness had melted away, leaving only a shared desire, and you knew the game was long forgotten. A smile tugged at your lips, but you leaned in, capturing his mouth with yours again. The air was still cool, the night sky overhead, but all you could feel was Trent, his warmth, and the way he made the world fade away. You both stood there, catching your breath and grinning at each other, the garden bathed in the last light of the day. It felt like one of those perfect moments you’d remember forever—just the two of you, tangled in laughter and love.

One night, it was a friend of a friends birthday party you all had been invited to; Jack, all his mates, Trent, Layla, it was a massive event. Your house buzzed with the energy of pre-party excitement. Music played from every direction on surround sound speakers. A few of Jack’s mates had already shown up, their laughter echoing faintly from the living room. You had invited Layla over to get ready with you, knowing you both wanted to look your best for the party. The evening was promising to be memorable, with everyone gathering together for the night out. Although a part of you was really anxious, you worried about your feelings, alcohol, and Trent mixing in the same room but you pushed it down. You giggled upstairs with Layla trying on outfits in your wardrobe, but had taken extra precaution ahead of time to hide any remnants of Trent; a jumper, some boxers, condoms, an array of items that frankly wouldn't be damning evidence but you were nervous. In the middle of getting dressed, you realized you desperately needed water—both you and Layla did. You’d promised her a drink to aid in staving off the inevitable hangover you’d both likely have tomorrow, so you ran downstairs in your relaxed outfit: oversized sweats and a tiny tank top. Despite your hair and makeup being perfectly done, you felt comfortable and at ease at home as you snuck down quickly but all it padded with a sense of nerves. As you made your way into the kitchen, you noticed Trent. He’d already arrived to pregame, his presence instantly shifting the air in the room. He looked incredible, wearing just a white t-shirt that highlighted his tan skin, his hair freshly trimmed, and a gold chain peeking out from beneath the neckline. The look on his face that lit up when he saw you was sweet, and genuine. A moment to be alone together again suddenly appeared but you'd do your best to ignore it. Not here. Not now.

“Hey pretty girl,” he greeted, his voice low and teasing but quiet. The nickname wasn’t something other people hadn’t heard. He’d called you it for ages but what you hadn’t done for ages was what you were doing lately. Something was very different. You were sleeping together to say the least. You rolled your eyes at him pretending not to care as you normally would, walking around the kitchen island to get your drinks. You’d say something eventually but you had to play it cool. Jack and all their friends were in the other room, Layla upstairs. You filled a cup of water, moving to fill a second. But before you could do that, before you could say anything to him, he closed the distance between you, reaching out to tug on the waistband of your sweatpants and pulling you backward into him. You yelped, almost spilling the water you had just gotten.

“Babyyy,” you whined instinctually, playfully, glaring at him with mock exasperation, but your pout couldn’t hold as Trent wrapped his arms around your waist. It was too natural now. It was as if any fear dissipated when he stepped within a foot of you. Trent knew everyone was occupied in the other room with a game, he knew Layla was upstairs so he couldn’t resist stealing this moment. He wanted you to be back in his arms. He held you tight, his touch warm and familiar, his grip grounding you in a way that made your heart race. He chuckled, pressing his chin against your shoulder.

“Shhhh.” He hushed you calling him the pet name aloud although with a smile because he didn’t actually mind hearing it. “Can’t be doing that... but I just couldn’t resist you though,” he murmured, his voice full of affection. He thought you were alone, that this was a stolen moment between just the two of you. And so did you. You leaned back into him, pouting dramatically.

“You made me spill my water,” you said, your voice half a giggle, half a protest. Trent smirked, clearly amused but unfazed. He leaned in closer, his face hovering near yours, his intentions obvious. His gaze held that gentle intensity that always made you melt, and you prepared to let him steal a kiss—

“OH MY GOD!” Layla’s scream cut through the air, making you both jump apart. Your eyes widened in shock, and you turned to see her standing at the base of the stairs, eyes as wide as saucers, her mouth hanging open. “I fucking knew it!” she yelled, her voice rising in pitch with excitement. “I fucking knew there was something bigger going on between you two! Oh my fucking god, how long has this been happening?!” She yelled running into the kitchen. You stumbled out of Trent’s embrace, your face burning.

“Lay… oh fuck. It’s not… it’s just…” you tried to form a coherent sentence, stepping toward her in a flustered panic. “Just shhh.” You now hushed her. Trent scratched the back of his neck, clearly equally rattled but there was a fullness to his cheeks.

“Lays, we’re just…” he began, trying to calm her down. But she wasn’t having it. She looked between the two of you, her eyes lighting up with even more surprise and delight.

“This is serious! You two are so… so lovey-dovey! Oh my days. So it wasn’t a one time thing? Jack’s going to die when he finds out!” She babbled on too overtaken by her surprise to have any sort of decorum or consciousness, mindfulness regarding the delicacy of this all. You ran over to her, covering her mouth with your hand, your own heart pounding with anxiety.

“Please, Layla,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t say anything yet. I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just… not now. You can’t tell anyone. Please.” You whispered harshly pleading just to her. You looked at her seriously. A look she knew well. It confirmed you and Trent were more than nothing. Trent came closer to you both, still looking uncomfortable but trying to add to the appeal.

“Yeah, we’re… just figuring things out,” he said cautiously, trying to convey the delicateness of your situation. “Just let it stay hush for now, yeah?” He told her. Layla pulled your hand off her mouth, her eyes wide and questioning.

“Figuring things out?” she echoed, confused by the vagueness turning towards you for clarity but you didn’t have any. She could sense that. Her gaze softened, and she nodded slowly, realizing the tension between the two of you. Both you and Trent felt a twinge of awkwardness at what you had both said. Even though it was honest, Trent belittled you and his relationship down to figuring things out. Where Trent thought you may have been wanting to hide things entirely, forever. It was all so confusing. You wondered if he was downplaying your relationship, and he worried that maybe you were keeping things too ambiguous. It stung a bit, this uncertainty of what you both really meant to each other. But for now, officially… someone else knew. Someone knew that you and Trent were no longer just friends. Layla had seen the reality of what you and Trent were, how real and raw this thing between you was. The secret was out, and the weight of it felt equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

You left the room with a nod of certainty from Trent. You had no option other than to drag Layla upstairs immediately swearing her to secrecy. You couldn’t risk Jack overhearing this conversation downstairs any longer. You hated you hadn’t told her more since the first hook up but how could you? Trent shot Layla a wink and her jaw dropped as you pulled her to the staircase. As soon as the door to your bedroom shut, you and Layla burst into almost panicked laughter, the nerves of her catching you with Trent bubbling over. Her giggles were of disbelief, yours in fear. Layla immediately threw her arms around you, still bouncing with shock and delight.

“What the fuck! What the fuck! Why did you hide this from me!!?!” she squealed, her voice just barely above a whisper but it was strained as if the walls themselves might betray the secret.

“I’m so so so sorry... Seriously, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you admitted, guilt mixed with an overwhelming need to finally let someone in on everything. You couldn’t hold back the truth anymore, not with Layla’s eyes wide and eager. She tugged you over to the bed, her curiosity palpable.

“Alright, secret's out. Spill it,” she demanded, crossing her legs and folding her arms, ready to listen. You took a deep breath, searching for the words to explain the whirlwind of the last few months.

“It’s been…” You couldn’t bite back the smile that Trent brought to your face.

“Oh my god!!!! So you’ve been properly hanging out, not just fucking?” Layla jumped the gun, completely shocked by the look the relationship brought to your face.

“Layla….” You steadied her. You’d tell her everything, if she’d just be patient enough to listen. She waved an apology telling you to go on. “It’s been so good. Honestly, I never expected it to actually happen, but he’s just…” Your voice softened, the warmth flooding your cheeks as you thought of him. “He’s been so sweet, Lays. Like, really sweet. Thoughtful, kind, funny. He has this way of making me feel like I’m the only one in the room, even when we’re hiding from the world.” You started to let the stories spill out, one by one: the little glances he’d give you across crowded rooms, how he’d brush his hand along yours in passing, those quiet moments spent tangled up in each other’s arms as morning light painted shadows on the sheets. “We’d just lay there, not needing to say anything,” you murmured. “He’s so different when it’s just the two of us. There’s this softness to him, this… I don’t know, it feels so real. But—” You stopped, that familiar ache settling in your chest. Layla’s brows furrowed slightly.

“But?” she prompted gently. She was biting back a million questions, comments, and concerns. She was trying just to listen, no opinions just yet.

“It’s like… every time we’re together, I feel like we’re on the verge of something real. But the second he leaves, I’m left wondering if I even exist in his life outside of those moments.” You let out a sigh, frustration mixing with the warmth of your memories. “It’s just—everything’s hidden. We’re hidden. And I’m terrified that I’m just some secret he’s keeping, like… like one of his other ‘girl of the season’ situations.” You explained sheepishly. You hated that this insecurity came with all the joy. You were almost embarrassed to let Layla into how complacent you’d been to it all.

“So, you’re afraid that he sees you like he’s seen other girls in the past? Just… temporary?” Layla looked at you thoughtfully. You nodded, looking down, feeling the weight of the confession.

“He says it’s different, and when I’m with him, I believe it. I want to believe it. But I can’t shake this feeling that I’m living this double life, like I’m only part of his world when it’s convenient. It’s one thing to keep it from Jack, but keeping it from you, from everyone else—it just makes me feel like… maybe he’s not serious about this. About us.” You muttered. Layla reached over, squeezing your hand, her face softening with understanding.

“I mean to be fair… I don’t think girl’s of the season have been given cars no strings attached.” She smirked teasingly knowing this relationship had been long brewing. “But that’s kind of the point… you could never be them. This situation is so sensitive. But, you know… it sounds like it’s real to you. I think what’s hard is that you are not just a secret in his world, you’re a big one. He winked at me when we left, like a confirmation I’d keep a tight lip. And I get that it’s complicated, but you deserve someone who isn’t afraid to let everyone know how he feels about you. Publicly… Openly.!” She told you the opinion you were waiting to hear. The one you knew had kept you from telling her to begin with. One you had a hard time stomaching because you knew it was correct. You bit your lip, her words hitting you harder than you expected.

“That’s the thing… when I’m with him, I don’t doubt it. I know he cares. But the minute he’s gone, it’s like I’m pulled back into reality, and I realize that in addition to his footballer lifestyle… layer on the fact that I’m still just—Jack’s little sister. And the thought that I might never be more than that to him—it terrifies me.” You earnestly admitted. Layla wrapped an arm around your shoulder, her expression soft but determined.

“Look, you deserve to be someone’s first choice, not a hidden chapter in their life. I know it’s scary,it probably is for him equally but maybe it’s time to be honest with him about what you need. All these little moments—they’re beautiful, yeah. But you deserve more than just stolen hours and hidden smiles. You deserve a real relationship. At the very least, I deserve a relationship you can at least tell me about.” She teased with a smile but it was tense. Her words lingered, settling somewhere deep within you. It was the honesty you’d been too afraid to face, the thing you’d been pushing aside every time you let yourself get lost in Trent’s arms. And as you sat there, talking it through with Layla, you felt the weight of your choices, your emotions sharpened into something you could finally name. You had a choice to make—keep clinging to the comfort of those stolen moments or take the leap and tell Trent that you wanted, needed, something real. “And… you can’t change the fact you are Jack’s sister.” She sheepishly reminded you hesitantly almost as if she could feel the knife twist inside of you from it. You and Layla sat quietly, the weight of her question heavy in the air between you. She looked at you expectantly, and when she asked when you’d tell Jack, the answer flew out of your mouth without hesitation.

“I can’t,” you said, the words sounding almost defensive, but as they hung there, something shifted inside you, a realization settling in your gut like a stone. Layla noticed it, too. Her face softened as you fell silent, the gravity of it finally hitting you both.

“If not now… when?” she asked gently. Her words were careful, but the question was razor-sharp, and you felt it cut right to the heart of everything you’d been holding back. You thought about it, really thought about it, for the first time. When would there ever be a right time? Layla seemed to read every doubt as it flickered across your face. She sighed, trying to keep the worry out of her voice but not quite succeeding. Your relationship with Trent unraveling before your eyes. It took all of two questions for the foundation to shake. “Babe,” she started, reaching for your hand, “If you really want him and he makes you happy… that’s all any of us want for you. Jack just wants you happy. It might take him a while, but he’d get over it.” She paused, giving you a small, uncertain smile. “But… I won’t lie, it might be a bit of a mess. Especially now that it’s been hidden so long.” She slyly reprimanded you for not even filling your best friend on this whole situation. She was right. Was she right? You nodded anyway, undecided but unable to look at her directly. You hadn’t just hidden this from Jack—you’d hidden it from her, from everyone. And the longer it had gone on, the more it had felt like the walls were closing in. You looked at her, the weight of the truth crashing over you like a wave, pulling you under.

“How did I let it get this far? How did I let it become… this?” The guilt twisted in your chest, and you almost couldn’t bear to see the hurt in Layla’s eyes. “How could I lie to you, to Jack, and for what? To be a secret hidden away in his mansion?” She squeezed your hand, trying to find the right words. What once felt exciting felt anything but.

“Hey, listen,” she said softly, “I know it’s more than that. It must be to him as well. He’s risking a lot. You wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t real, if there wasn’t something worth all this.” She gave a small, sad smile. “But… I get it. This isn’t you. Keeping secrets, hiding things—it’s not who you are. Never has been.” And as she said it, you felt it. The ache of it, how far you’d drifted from who you wanted to be. You’d always trusted Layla, trusted Jack, and now here you were, caught between fear and love, between loyalty and your own heart.

“I didn’t technically lie,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “I just… omitted the truth.” You sheepishly told her, reminding yourself that you also trusted Trent and your heart and that’s why you ended up here. Layla nodded, her face thoughtful but filled with understanding.

“But does it feel worth it?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. You were silent, unable to answer. Because the truth was you didn’t know if it was worth it—worth the risk, worth the lies, worth the tension pulling at you from every angle. And as you looked back at Layla, her eyes full of hope and worry, you wondered if you’d have the courage to find out.

Maybe you didn’t know exactly what you wanted out of the relationship but tonight, after a tequila shot that ignited a confidence you didn't realize was simmering, you and Layla both decided what you wanted, for at the very least tonight; was him. The night unfolded in a familiar dance between you and Trent, just as it always had. You stayed close, barely touching, your hand brushing his as you passed by, leaning into him when you laughed, your voice lingering just a bit too close. But then, you pushed it further. You caught his gaze and held it, a mischievous spark lighting up in your eyes. As the party pulsed around you, you slipped closer, cupping the shell of his ear, whispering something lighthearted into his ear while your teeth grazed his earlobe, feeling his whole body react. He turned, a cheeky, almost disbelieving smirk spreading across his face, clearly caught off guard but thrilled by the shift.

"Oh, so you want to play that way?" he teased, his tone low and daring. You two always tucked off at parties this wasn’t news but what you just whispered was. You nodded, flashing a smile, more certain than ever. He chuckled, narrowing his eyes in that competitive, confident way that both thrilled and terrified you. "I don't lose, baby," he reminded you, his voice a challenge as he leaned back, arms crossed, watching to see what you'd do next. The thrill of his words sent a shiver through you, your heartbeat matching the tempo of the music, and suddenly, it was all a game of daring glances and lingering touches, neither of you breaking the tension. So you continued to tease as you brushed your hand over his as you reached for a drink, let your fingers trail across his back as you slipped past him, laughing a little too sweetly in his ear. And Trent was no less relentless, stepping close enough that his breath tickled your cheek, his hand brushing your lower back just as he moved to let someone by, his gaze a quiet, playful reminder that he was more than ready to keep up. It became an unspoken competition, each of you pushing the limits just to see who would break first. Now that you had had a taste, knowing what was possible, every moment grew sharper, more electric, and even in the crowded room, it felt like it was only the two of you, locked in this game of desire and restraint, neither one willing to give in-yet. Until an idea popped into your head to get him to cave.

"Lay, can you see my nipples in this?" you asked, feigning nonchalance as you all stood in the kitchen. You turned solely to Layla, your eyes wide with playful innocence as you tugged at the hem of your shirt. The overhead recessed lighting illuminating you. You tilted your head slightly, looking down at the thin shimmery material, your fingers tracing the fabric, exposing just a little more of your skin. It was a bold question but Layla hummed not phased in the least. Playing her role. Yes, you wore this shirt because you could do just that very thing.

"Babe, I think that's the point of that top," she teased, her eyes sparkling as she looked you over. Her humor was unwavering in character, pretending this wasn’t a planned conversation. "But it's a party, you look stun! Your tit’s are perfect. Arguably, the best part of the fit." She told you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Trent shift slightly, his jaw tightening as he took another sip of his drink. You knew he was trying to hold back, that this question was pushing him to his edge. So, you decided to take it even further, turning to him with a coy smile.

"What do you think, T?" you asked, tilting your head as if you were just seeking an honest opinion. His eyes flickered over you, his hand tightening around his glass, his expression a mix of amusement and restraint.

"Think you know what I think," he said, voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone. He shot you a look, something intense behind his gaze, and you could see him fighting not to react as much as he wanted to.

“Well could you share with the class?" Layla interrupted, prompting Trent to actually have to articulate his feelings and smiling as she did it. You shrugged, tossing her a wink as if this was all in good fun, but you felt the charge in the air between you and Trent. You'd pushed him just far enough, and the look in his eyes told you he'd make you pay for it later. Trent's gaze dropped, his expression shifting, a mix of amusement and tension in his eyes as you dared to pull him further into this game. His grip tightened around his drink once over, clearly trying to hold himself back. He shot you a low, heated look that felt as much a warning as it did a challenge.

"You're pushing it," he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. But there was a hint of a smirk as he looked at you, a spark that showed he was just as invested in this as you were.

"Why?" You teased aloud, cocking your head with feigned innocence, fingers lightly tracing the edge of your top, letting his eyes follow the path. "Does it not look alright?” You asked. He exhaled, a slow, measured sound, his gaze moving from your shirt to your face.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," he replied, fighting a grin, as his hand discreetly brushed your arm. His voice was soft, almost casual, but you could feel the tension behind it, each word carrying a weight he didn't want to admit out loud. He was a little annoyed that you now had Layla on your team to tease him. It was 2 v 1. You now had a man advantage.

“So you don’t like it?” Layla asked Trent, feigning offense for you. Trent rolled his eyes at her. She laughed, shaking her head. You just smiled, playing along, turning to Trent with a mischievous look.

"Wait, you don’t like it?" you pressed, pretending not to notice how close you'd pulled him into your orbit. Trent took another breath trying to think how to navigate this. All he wanted to do was drag you into any bedroom and tell you just how much he really liked the way you looked but he couldn’t. Layla already found out tonight, no one else could. His silence was telling but also deafening. "Do you like the way I look or not?" You asked with drunken confidence. He looked at you, eyes sharp, with a grin he couldn't contain.

"Enough. You know my answer. Drop it" His voice had that edge again, that quiet challenge that sent a thrill through you. There was a split-second pause, a moment charged with the unspoken, before you stepped back, keeping your own playful expression in place. But you knew it was a matter of time before one of you broke, before this playful game turned into something real.

As the night wore on, the crowd and music faded into a backdrop, leaving only the charged atmosphere between you and Trent. It was an unspoken battle of wills, a daring game that grew bolder with each passing second. You felt his eyes following you across the room, and the thrill of being wanted, truly wanted, filled you with a mix of confidence and something new, something closer to risk. The sheer top and conversation didn’t prove to be enough and you were starting to feel a bit… needy. The music pulsed as you approached him with a casual smile, keeping your expression neutral while letting your fingers brush along his arm as you passed. He barely reacted, save for a flicker in his gaze that told you he felt it. Moments later, he slipped past you in a crowded corner, his hand just grazing the small of your back as he leaned close, lips at your ear. "You're not going to win," he whispered, his voice both soft and daring. You shot him a challenging look, cocking your head just slightly.

"You think I'll back down that easily? For you?" You taunted. A knowing smirk played on his lips as he took a slow step closer, his arm stretching around you to reach for a drink. His body pressed just lightly against yours, lingering in a way that made your skin tingle.

"Not sure you know what you've started," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours as he finally pulled away. A small gasp left your lips, covered by the music, as he gave you a smug look and turned his attention back to the party. It only made you more determined. The evening continued like this-every move, every touch, carefully calculated. You brushed his shoulder with your hand while walking by, your fingers trailing just enough to make him turn. He placed a hand on your arm, steadying you as you reached for your glass, his fingers pressing just enough to remind you of his presence. By the time the lights dimmed, your heart was racing. You were now getting antsy. He was too good at having restraint. You now were beyond needy.

"Not going to quit, are you?" You leaned in close, brushing your lips by his ear as you whispered. A chuckle escaped his lips, low and filled with confidence.

"Not a chance. I told you-l don't lose." He smirked. You took a bold step forward, letting your hand linger on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm as you looked up into his eyes. The tension was almost overwhelming, each of you daring the other to give in. But instead of backing down, you pulled him even closer, so close you could feel his breath on your neck, close enough to hear him exhale as his hand settled firmly on your waist. This wasn't the subtle game it had started as— it was unmistakable now, and neither of you conscious enough to know if anyone would noticed. No one had, too caught up in their own drunken escapades to noticed you’d fallen down a rabbit hole in yours. You slipped your hand around his back, pressing into him as the tension between you reached a breaking point. Trent looked at you, a mixture of heat and amusement in his eyes as he brought his lips close, stopping just shy of kissing you, letting the moment stretch out until it was nearly unbearable. "You want me to call it a draw?" he murmured, voice thick with that same mix of excitement and restraint. You smirked, shaking your head just a fraction. Your heart raced at the thought of being alone with him, away from prying eyes. You'd fantasized about this moment since your last and now you wanted it even more. The thrill of it almost being public but still hidden turning you on an embarrassing amount, pushing any clear thinking out the window.

"No, I thought you don’t lose." You reminded him. And he didn’t. You did when you tucked off to the bathroom. The party’s buzz felt distant as you stumbled down the hallway, your movements light but unsteady, fueled by a mix of alcohol and adrenaline. Your skin burned with the heat of Trent’s lingering touch, your head spinning from the intensity of his gaze, the press of his body against yours. You’d hit your limit, unable to take the teasing any longer, and now all you could think about was escaping to collect yourself Trent’s dark eyes followed your retreat, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched you sway slightly in your steps. You didn’t turn back—you couldn’t. If you did, you’d be pulled right back into him, and you weren’t sure if you could hold yourself together. Trent chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He knew exactly why you were walking away, and the thought of you trying to resist him only made him more certain of his power over you.

When you reached the bathroom, you pushed the door closed with a soft thud, pressing your back against it for a moment as you let out a shaky breath. But you were determined and horny. Your fingers trembled as you peeled off the flimsy sheer top you’d teased Trent in the whole night, your skin cooling in the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom. The mirror caught your reflection, the flush on your cheeks, the messy allure of your hair, and the way the glow of the dim light seemed to highlight every curve. You bit your lip, tilting your head as you studied your reflection, feeling bold under the influence of tequila and Trent’s attention.You grabbed your phone, angling it just right as you snapped a few photos in the mirror, each one bolder than the last. Finally, satisfied, you selected the one that captured just the right mix of sultry and confident. The thrill of the moment rushed through you as you typed out a single message.

You hit send, your heart pounding as you imagined his reaction. Across the party, Trent felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket. A signal of victory. His smirk deepened as he pulled it out, casually unlocking the screen. When he saw the photo, his breath caught for a split second, his tongue running over his bottom lip as his eyes lingered on the image. You looked unreal. Without hesitation, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and straightened up, his casual demeanor hiding the urgency he felt. He didn’t bother replying; words wouldn’t cut it. He needed to see you, touch you, remind you exactly why you couldn’t stay away. As he weaved through the crowded party, his smirk stayed firmly in place. Trent Alexander-Arnold was a man on a mission, and he had every intention of making sure you regretted ever starting this game.

You waited for him, like you always had. The air in the bathroom felt thick, charged with anticipation. Your heart raced as you adjusted your stance, bracing yourself for what was to come. A soft knock broke the silence, cautious yet laced with the kind of confidence only Trent could muster. You bit your lip, smiling to yourself.

"It's me," he murmured through the door. You hummed softly in confirmation, and he didn't hesitate to slip inside. The door closed with a quiet click, and the lock turned with a finality that sent shivers down your spine. "Baby, baby, baby…," he taunted, his voice low and teasing as he leaned casually against the door. You couldn't hold back your smirk. His presence filled the small room, intoxicating and overwhelming all at once. "You going to be gracious in defeat?" he asked, his eyes dark and focused as he closed the space between you. You tilted your chin up defiantly, even as your pulse quickened.

"You never told me if you liked the top or not," you countered, your voice a soft challenge.Trent's smirk widened, predatory, as he stepped closer. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him with a force that made your breath hitch. The edge of the marble sink pressed into your back as he pinned you there, his body crowding yours.

"I think," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending a delicious shiver down your neck, "I might like you better without it.” Before you could respond, his lips descended on your neck, warm and insistent, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your knees weaken. You gasped, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders for support.

"T..." you started, but your words dissolved into a moan as his mouth trailed lower, sucking softly at the sensitive spot near your collarbone.

"You were being too obvious," he scolded lightly between kisses, his voice vibrating against your skin. You tried to protest, shaking your head.

"I wasn't..." you began, but the sentence fell apart as his teeth nipped at your neck, followed by the soothing sweep of his tongue.The sound that escaped your lips was involuntary, a mix of frustration and desire. "God, I fucking love how your lips feel on me," you breathed out, your head tilting back as he smirked against your skin, clearly pleased with himself. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you impossibly closer as he continued his slow, deliberate assault. He wasn't just kissing you-he was claiming you, reminding you that no matter how hard you tried to play coy, he would always have the upper hand.

"Say it again," he murmured, his lips hovering just over your jawline. You barely had the breath to comply, your fingers curling into his shirt.

"I love it," you whispered. "I love the way you-" Trent silenced you with his lips on yours, cutting off the confession as his mouth moved with an intensity that left you dizzy. The room spun, and for a moment, the world outside that bathroom didn't exist. "We’ll be quick and you’ll be quiet, yeah?” he said, his voice dropping and getting huskier. You looked at him in a haze, your eyes taking in his muscular frame, accentuated by the soft glow of the lighting.

“I’ll be quiet but this won’t be quick," you whispered, reaching up to caress his face. Trent's eyes darkened with desire as he pulled you closer, his lips finding yours in another passionate kiss. His tongue danced with yours, tasting the remnants of the liquor you'd been drinking. You moaned into his mouth, your hands roaming over his broad shoulders, feeling the strength in his arms. Breaking the kiss, Trent trailed his lips down your neck again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. He nipped at your sensitive skin, causing you to arch into him, craving more.

"I think we’re getting a little reckless," he murmured against your skin almost tauntingly.

"Absolutely," you whispered, your voice breathy with anticipation. Trent's hands came to palm your bare cheat. Finally after all night, all that teasing, behind that flimsy material, your tits were all for him. He cupped them, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, eliciting a gasp from you.

"We should maybe stop" he whispered, his breath hot on your skin. He was mocking you. He wasn’t going to stop. Not in a million years and you both knew that. You leaned back against the marble counter, allowing him access to your body.

“Definitely.” You whined as his kisses to your jaw, over it, working down your neck towards your collarbone diligently. He sucked on a sensitive spot, bitting a little with his teeth pulling at your skin. You hissed at the pain and then melted into pleasure as he continued sucking over the spot soothing it with his tongue. He placed a few more harsh bites on you leaving behind marks as your eyes rolled back in pleasure feeling his perfect lips. Trent moved over your body in what felt like slow motion as he reached your tits. You could barely think straight as his lips closed around one nipple, sucking gently at first, then with increasing urgency. His tongue teased and flicked, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You threaded your fingers into his curls, holding him close, encouraging him to continue.

"You love this, don't you?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire, muffled against your skin. "You wanted to get caught.” He told you partly out of curiosity and partly out of seduction.

"Yeah," you breathed, your head falling back as he switched to the other nipple, lavishing it with equal attention. "Don't stop, please." Trent's hands traveled down your body, his fingers deftly unzipping your skirt, sliding it down your legs until you were before him in just your panties and heels. He took a step back, his eyes raking over your naked form, a look of pure admiration on his face.

“You’re fucking unreal.” He cooed a bit in disbelief caught in a place of wanted control and loosing any sense of it around you. “We’re gonna get caught, you want that baby?” he said, his voice thick with mock. You stepped forward, closing the distance between you, and reached for his belt, eager to touch him. Your fingers fumbled with the buckle, but soon you had his trousers unfastened, revealing his boxers, tented with his obvious arousal.

“Please.” You whimpered as took over, quickly shedding his pants and underwear. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, standing proudly before you. You sank to your knees, taking him in your hands, stroking his length. Trent's breath hitched as you leaned forward, licking the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum that beaded there. You took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head, earning a groan of pleasure from him.

"Fuck, you're incredible," he muttered, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding your movements. You bobbed your head, taking him deeper, your throat opening to accommodate his girth. Trent's hips thrust gently, meeting your rhythm, as he savored the sensations you were providing.

“Do you like winning, baby?” You mumbled sloppy words, knowing they’d only turn him on more. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, as you sucked and teased, determined to give him the best blowjob of his life.

"I'm close, baby," he warned, his voice strained. "But you’re gonna let me come inside you, hmm?" He asked but really he was telling you. You stood, your body humming with desire. His hands pushed your hips towards the sink counter. The cold marble protruded into your back. You gasped but he swallowed it with a kiss. He lifted you up easily and placed you on the counter. The kiss was hot and heavy, his tongue immediately invading your mouth and toying with yours. He let his hand drift back down and slid one finger directly inside you eliciting another gasp from you. His sudden moments made the base of your spine tingle, but when his thumb began to draw precise circles on your clit, your body shook slightly as a deep moan got lost in his mouth. When he dipped another finger into your wet heat, he pulled another deep moan from you and in an attempt to push you closer to the edge, he curled his fingers even further against that one spot and pressed his thumb into your clit harder. It didn’t take long until you came around his fingers. Your slick dripping down his hand. He pulled his fingers out slowly covered in your juices, he stuck them in your mouth and you greedily sucked his fingers licking around them like you just did his cock while he began pumping his leaking hard on with his other hand. In swift movements, he was aligning his cock with your entrance. His hands gripped your hips, positioning himself at your entrance. With one smooth thrust, he filled you, eliciting a moan of pleasure from both of you. He dropped his forehead to your chest, trying to avoid cumming on the spot.

“T, baby.” You could only manage another whine, too focused on the slow drag of his cock, you could feel every hard vein and ridge of it slowly fucking into you.

"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, his voice raw. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his powerful thrusts with your own. The party boomed outside marrying sounds of the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin and your mutual moans of pleasure behind the closed door. Trent's hands roamed your body, squeezing your boobs, pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through you. He leaned down, his lips capturing one nipple, sucking and biting gently, as his hips continued their relentless pace.

"You're so good f’me baby," he panted between kisses. "Why’d you have to tease me all night. You knew I’d give you this cock tonight” He told you as you arched your back, pushing your tits into his mouth, craving more.

"I wanted it now though," you managed to say between gasps. “Wanted you to fuck me baby. You were playing with me." You tried to pout but your lips parted when Trent's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he neared his climax. He withdrew his length almost completely before slamming back into you, hitting your sweet spot with each stroke.

"Fuxk, you’re gonna make me cum again," you whispered, your nails digging into his back. His fingers dug into your skin and his head fell back. He tilted his head back up and looked directly into your eyes. Your heart skipped a bit at the attention.

“Be a good girl right now. Cum f’me. Cum on my cock while everyone is out there. Don't hold back." He told you through a grunt, his hips moving faster, his body slick with sweat. He smoothly slipped his fingers in your mouth again, stopping your words. You sucked on his fingers desperately dragging your tongue around them, split pooling in the corners of your mouth. He moaned at the sensation. He popped them out quickly though. His wet hand racked down the front of you dipping to come play with your clit. You gasped and let out a filthy moan as he started to draw tight circles around it. Your orgasm built, a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you cried out, your body trembling as you came, your walls clenching around his throbbing cock. “Good girl. Doing so well, baby. Told you I don’t loose” Trent said with a smile pulling across his face having to bite his lip just from the sight of seeing you cum as his cock continued to pump in and out of you. You wanted to yell at him annoyed but you couldn’t, losing felt too good. His fingers stayed playing with your clit for a little as you trembled, starting to overstimulate you.

“Baby, please cum inside me. I need you.” You begged feeling the overstimulation turn into another bout of pleasure that was consuming all your thoughts, your brain turning to mush as he continued to fuck you. You needed him to fill you up. You loved Trent having control of you, letting him fuck you hidden away in this bathroom. Layla’s cautions evaporating.

“I got you, baby. Cum for me one more time. Cum with me, yeah?” He whispered in your ear. Your pussy dripped around him. You bit your lip, looking at him with desperate doe eyes. Trent could feel the veins running along his cock throbbing. He worked his hips faster, harsher. Both of your pleasure building higher and higher. “Fuck.” Trent finally filled you, his body tensing as he emptied himself inside you, his breath hot against your neck. As your heart rates slowed, he pulled your body into his tighter. Goosebumps arose on your skin, finally able to notice the cool of the sink counter contrasting to your hot skin. He wrapped his arms around you so tightly. Your sweaty skin sticking together. The temperature in the atmosphere of the room was so humid. Your eyes stayed closed for a little, you were completely saturated with bliss. You could barely breathe but you had never felt better in your life.

“You okay, baby?” He whispered into your neck. He rested his head down on your shoulder. You took another deep breath before smiling. “Yeah?” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling his heart pounding against you.

"Shit sorry.” You apologized but Trent shook his head dismissing it. It was so reckless but he wanted this just as bad. “I hope no one heard," you confessed, tracing his jawline with your fingertips, starting to feel reality seep under the door and into the room but not being pungent enough to get your mind out of this blissful state of being in front of him. Trent's eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

"Nah, we’re okay. We’ll be okay," he promised, his lips ghosting over yours. "I got you, baby.” He told you. The sincerity in his voice kept the goosebumps raised on your skin. You giggled almost delirious, your heart fluttering with both nerves and joy at what just happened. The world outside the room started to fade back in more and more but the anxiety that came from your conversation with Layla earlier in the night had melted away entirely by the heat of Trent’s proximity.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 8 xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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yanderes-galore · 1 day ago

Note

Same anon as the Overblot Idia ask - I lied, I'd also like Overblot Leona Kingscholar too, but I figured one character per ask.

Sure! I'll try my best... I warn you, it may be short :(

Yandere! Overblot! Leona Kingscholar Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Murder, Sadism, Jealousy, Mentions of 'Mate', Forced "relationship".

Overblot! Leona is... well... feral in nature.

By the time he overblots he's overcome with jealousy, envy, hate...

Along with a destructive desire.

Like all Overblot forms, Leona is dangerous to be around.

Due to his Signature Spell 'King's Roar', everything he touches becomes sand.

Not only that, but sandstorms kick up around him.

When it comes to yandere Overblot characters, I imagine their obsession would also kickstart their transformation.

Not only is he trying to overthrow the school competition and beat Malleus...

But you may also be involved too.

That or maybe this is an alternate form of events where Leona has been watching you for a while....

Maybe Leona has fallen for you long ago, be that at Night Raven or even back in his old country, and he's kept close tabs ever since.

Leona, second prince, is used to having to fight for what he wants.

He never is just handed what he desires... not like a king.

Instead, he's forced to work for it.

That or deceive and steal it.

Leona stalks his obsession, his prey....

He watches everyone who dares to speak with you, everyone he dares to steal you.

Even just watching commoners talk to you makes his tail flick.

Going down this route, Leona's Overblot would be born from jealousy and rage.

Imagine if Leona gets tipped over the edge somehow?

Maybe he sees you with someone else romantically and loses it?

Overblot is deadly for everyone involved...

Including the person suffering from the corruption.

In this state, Leona does not care about his surroundings.

Everything could turn to sand for all he cares.

After all, if he can't rule a kingdom or have the mate he chooses...

Then it shall all be sand.

The sight is terrifying to you especially.

You knew of Leona, the lion often observing you like a future meal.

He's always unnerved you no matter where he is.

He's always watching... always waiting...

But looks like he's met his limit.

Leona can only take so much.

He's tired of being neglected, not even his tricks will get him what he wants.

By the time he Overblots, he's like a force of nature.

He's a drought that slurps anything and everything, leaving only sand.

He can't control his rage...

Unfortunately, his obsession can't either.

Unless subdued, Leona is a being of pure destruction.

He won't even realize it half the time.

He's a roaring beast, yelling about how it's all unfair.

He deserves to rule, he deserves to have you...!

Anyone around becomes fodder for his rage.

Innocent bystanders feel as though they're in a sandstorm, their skin dry and cracking as Leona laughs.

Leona would rampage until he finds the one he's looking for.

Despite his feral mind, Leona recalls one thing.

You.

You are truly what he desires most.

Before his Overblot, he made peace with the fact he can't have the throne...

As long as he could have you, it wouldn't matter.

Yet he lost you to someone else supposedly more worthy too.

You can hide as best as you can...

The sand suffocates you, causing you to cough.

The air is so dry.

Eventually you'll succumb... Then he'll find you.

Leona makes it a goal to hunt your partner, claws sinking into their flesh as he grins.

They don't deserve you... If Leona doesn't deserve you, no one does.

Leona would gleefully turn the one you love to sand if it meant finding you.

By the time he finds you, the corrupted prince is on all fours to look in your hiding spot.

His eyes are predatory, fangs bared in a sadistic grin...

He's found his prey.

Black ichor drips from him, a thick ink that not even his sand can dry out...

It stinks of poison.

Stinks of danger.

Leona doesn't care if he hurts you in this state, reaching out and tugging you into his chest.

It's painful... so painful.

Yet Leona only growls... or is it a purr?

Your skin is cracking as you feel the moisture leave it.

Leona only nuzzles... worsening your condition.

Even now you're adorable... and all his...

Even though his touch is slowly killing you.

Unless Leona is stopped, Leona's Overblot is too volatile to survive.

Leona has one goal as his own magic is eaten away by blot.

He wants to keep you to himself.

He doesn't care if his surroundings turn to sand, if you die, or if he dies...

How can he in such a feral state?

All that matters is you're all his...

After all, if he can't have you, no one will...

You'll both turn to sand if he wills it.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere overblot leona kingscholar #yandere overblot

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quojae · 1 day ago

Text

-where taking photos of idols turns into more that you ever would have guessed-

f!reader, sunoo x reader, fan x idol, fluff, meet cute, kissing

a/n: hello loves 𖹭 i hope you enjoy this fic i tried my best to make it cute and fluffy but it definitely gets raw and intimate towards the end, happy reading o(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)o

wc: 11.3k

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

you went to school for photography, photography had always been one of the loves of your life, you would see a scene and just have the urge to take a photo. although looking back, you almost regret getting your degree in it, people always say not to mix your passion and your work. you should have listened, photography is one of those professions where finding stable work feels like trying to catch lightning in a bottle. the industry is oversaturated, and the competition is fierce. jobs hard to score, and the pay is often inconsistent, making it hard to rely on it as a full-time career.

at the time, you were stuck working part-time at a mcdonald's in a rundown part of town. the job paid just enough to cover rent and bills, but the hours were long, the work was grueling, and the atmosphere was depressing. you had a camera, of course, but it felt more like a distant dream you once held as a naive college student than something real. that is, until one evening, when one of your coworkers - someone you didn’t really know that well - approached you with an unexpected proposition.

they had an idea - a suggestion so simple yet so completely outside the box that, at first, it felt almost too good to be true. you’d never considered anything like it before, it wasn’t a big corporate gig, or some trendy magazine cover shoot, or even a commissioned project for a local business. it wasn’t even a photoshoot in the typical sense, but that was exactly the point. it was something raw, something spontaneous, and - most importantly - a reason to use your camera again, reignite your childhood passion.

your coworker, the one you barely knew and could hardly remember the name of, was a fan of a particular idol. the idol wasn’t incredibly popular, they rarely made headlines but was a recognizable, familiar face, you had been interested in idol’s at one point but eventually had to abandon the hobby in favor of paying your bills. this idol was attending a private, high-profile event - an exclusive gathering with limited access - where fans rarely got the chance to meet them in person, let alone snap a photo.

somehow, your coworker had managed to get tickets to this event, which in itself was a pretty rare feat, they had an idea: "why don’t you come with me as my plus one?" they asked casually, almost as if they were offering you a ticket to a normal night out. but then came the twist. "i’ll pay you for the photos you take while we’re there. you know, of the idol. if you’re up for it."

the offer caught you off guard. at first, you weren’t sure if you heard them correctly, pay you? to take photos? of an idol? you had spent years hustling to scrape by, working part-time jobs just to keep the lights on. you’d never even thought about something like this - photographing an idol for money on the spot. there was always official photos, and some fans took photos from their phones, but going into these events with a nice, high end camera taking candid photos of idols, the idea wasn't necessarily ground breaking, people have done it before, but it made your heart beat a bit faster.

the more you thought about it, though, the more it seemed to make sense. here was a chance to finally break out of the routine you’d been stuck in. you could do something different, something that didn’t involve working under fluorescent lights flipping burgers at mcdonald's. it wasn’t a perfect opportunity, but it was an opportunity. something real, something that could get you one step closer to doing what you loved for a living.

sure, there was a risk. not getting good shots or you freezing up under the pressure. you weren’t sure, but then again, there wasn't anything to lose. it was a chance to take your photography out of the mundane and into the world of exclusive events, star power, and actual exposure - something you’d always dreamed about but never quite reached.

you agreed, of course. you had to. the idea, while risky and untraditional, was too intriguing to pass up. it wasn’t the glamorous photoshoot you’d always imagined, but maybe this could be your shot. so, you packed your camera and tagged along, unsure of what to expect but knowing that this could be the break you needed.

when you arrived at the event, the energy was electric—idols sitting at their tables ready to sign posters and chat with fans, photographers buzzing around, and security everywhere. you were just another face in the crowd, but with your camera in hand, you felt a strange sense of possibility. the idol you were there to photograph was charismatic, surrounded by an entourage, but the moment you snapped the first shot, it felt like the world had opened up in a way you hadn’t expected.

sure enough, the photos you took that night were more than just decent, they were actually pretty great. the light was perfect, the atmosphere electric, and the idol looked natural in front of the camera, by the time the night ended, you had a batch of photos that would go on to be worth more than you had imagined. it was in that moment that you realized how little you had known about the potential of your work. you had been so focused on following the traditional paths, waiting for commissions, applying for jobs that never seemed to come through, that you’d never considered going outside the box.

your coworker was absolutely thrilled with the photos you took. they couldn’t believe how good they turned out, and the way the idol had looked so natural and approachable in each shot. the pictures weren’t just great, they were special. your coworker practically couldn’t stop talking about them. the excitement in their voice was contagious, and you could tell they were more than just happy with what you'd done; they were impressed. they handed over the agreed payment, which was far more than you expected for something that felt like a spur-of-the-moment gig. you’d never made that much from photography in one night, it felt like you were finally reaching your dreams, it felt like you were finally being acknowledged for your passion.

the real surprise came a few hours later, when your coworker posted the photos on their social media account. They tagged the idol, shared a few behind-the-scenes captions, and - just like that - the photos took off. almost immediately, the reactions started pouring in. fans of the idol who had been eagerly following the event began commenting on the post, captivated by the authenticity and energy you had managed to capture. the photos weren’t just snapshots - they were a window into a moment, and it felt like people were getting a glimpse behind the idols polished public persona.

at first, the comments were more along the lines of casual appreciation like, ‘my bby looks so cutee’ or ‘the lighting on these OMG.’ But as the hours went by, something bigger started to happen. fans were flooding the post, asking for more. a few commented on how they’d never seen the idol look so relaxed or how these photos felt so much more real than the usual, heavily edited promotional shots they were used to seeing. then came the requests: ‘i LiTERALLY NEED MORE RN’ or ‘can you post more pics like these… i love the style of these pics’ others tagged their friends, begging them to look how great their bias looks. then, more offers to purchase came through.

One day at work, you coworker was talking to themself “i mean, these are really good,” they said, scrolling through the growing number of comments. “i bet people would pay for these. like, seriously.”

they were right. what had started as a casual favor to a coworker had quickly turned into something much bigger. the more your coworker engaged with the comments and shared the photos, the more requests started to come in - both from fans and even other photographers who wanted to know how you’d managed to capture such a raw, intimate vibe with the idol.

your coworker, now buzzing with new ideas, suggested something that would change the way you thought about your photography moving forward: “what if you could do this more often? go to events, take these candid shots, and sell them to fans? it’s like, exclusive content. i know so many people who would eat it up.” it was a wild idea, but as they continued to scroll through the endless stream of enthusiastic comments, you couldn’t deny it - there was something there. something more than just a one-time gig, and secretly you looked forward to going to another event to take photos. seeing the idols was breathtaking. at the time you had been so caught up in your camera you forgot where you were, who you were actually seeing. you could feel the happiness growing in your chest as you thought about that day.

that moment, when your photos started to go viral, you realized just how much potential there was in capturing these raw, behind-the-scenes glimpses of idol life, it wasnt that you wanted to stalk them home or anything, but being able to capture their raw emotions at events, the real them, excited you beyond belief. it wasn’t about posing for the camera, it wasn’t about perfection - it was about getting a fleeting, authentic moment and making it available to the people who longed for it. you had even longed for it yourself, and sharing it with others was such a great feeling.

the more you thought about it, the clearer it became, why not take this momentum and build something on your own? you didn’t need a fancy studio or a corporate client to make a living as a photographer. the fans had spoken loud and clear; they wanted real, behind-the-scenes moments, glimpses of their favorite idols captured in an authentic way. So, you decided to seize that demand, and to evolve your approach.

the first step was creating an online platform - a website, a social media page where you could post and sell your photos directly. it was a relatively simple concept, but it gave you control over your work. no middlemen, no agencies, no waiting around for a call back. just you, your camera, and the people who appreciated what you were capturing. the platform would allow fans to request specific photos they wanted, and you could price them fairly based on the level of access and the quality of the shot.

you didn’t have to reinvent the wheel, there were plenty of online photography stores, but what made yours different was the personal, exclusive nature of the photos. the idea was to capture the moments that no one else was - candid shots, spontaneous interactions, and moments that felt intimate or unguarded. tt wasn’t about just selling any photo; it was about selling the photo, the one that told a story or showed a side of the idols their fans had never seen before.

the next step was gaining access to more events. you’d have to be creative, find ways into concerts, premieres, fan meet, maybe even award shows, or private parties where idols were likely to show up. this meant networking, finding connections, and sometimes even pulling a few favors, but you learned quickly that where there’s a will, there’s a way. whether it was through your coworkers, friends of friends, or even just by paying attention to social media and learning about events before they happened, you became skilled at getting your foot in the door.

once you were in, it was all about capturing those moments. you’d snap a few candid shots, focusing on moments where the idol was relaxed, in a natural environment. you’d also make sure to get a couple of highly polished, high-quality images to use as teasers. it was all about creating anticipation. you’d post a few shots on social media, teasing the full set of photos, and maybe even share a quick, behind-the-scenes video or an outtake to drum up interest. the goal was to make the fans feel like they were getting an inside look into the world of their favorite idol, something they couldn’t get anywhere else.

the best part? the fans responded just as they had before, eager, excited, and hungry for more. the teaser posts on social media would ignite the excitement, with fans commenting, sharing, and tagging others. requests would pour in, ‘he looks so hot here, i want moree’ or ‘i need the entire set or i might just break down’ the beauty of this model was that it wasn’t about a few one-off sales—it was about building a relationship with a community. as you gained more followers and more fans, it became a cycle. you would post teasers, people would request more, and you could offer them full, high-quality images for a fair price.

as time passed, your online platform began to grow. word of mouth spread, and more fans began reaching out. you found yourself getting access to bigger events, seeing familiar names pop up in your inbox, and even having idols or their teams inquire about using some of your shots for their own promotional purposes. each new photo was a stepping stone, each set you posted was not just a transaction, but an opportunity to connect with your audience and further build your brand.

being an idol fan yourself, this entire experience felt like a dream come true. you had spent so many years admiring these idols from afar, watching them shine in the spotlight, and now you were not only in the same rooms as them but capturing intimate moments of their lives through your lens. after being broke and not having any time to keep up with them, to being so close to them and actively in their world was incredible. the fact that you were interacting with the people you once looked up to - and even more incredibly, that they were appreciating your work - was surreal. it wasn’t just about taking photos anymore; it was about sharing the same energy, the same excitement, and being able to offer something special to other fans who shared that same passion. you were no longer just a passive admirer, you were now creating something that allowed others to connect with the idols you loved so much.

as your platform grew in visibility, so did your reputation. word spread quickly, and what started as a small side hustle became something much bigger. you became a recognized name in the idol photography world, known for your unique, authentic approach to capturing moments that no one else was able to.

one of the benefits of your approach to this whole new life was the anonymity it afforded you. no one knew your face, and that made all the difference. you could attend high-profile events, interact with the idols, and enjoy the atmosphere without the pressure of being recognized or approached. you were able to experience these moments as both a fan and a professional, without the hassle of the typical fan interaction. there was no need for the autograph hunts or trying to get the perfect selfie; instead, you had the freedom to enjoy the event, capture meaningful moments, and leave without the distraction of unwanted attention. it was the ideal solution - living the dream of being close to the stars, but still having the privacy and space to appreciate it on your own terms. it felt like the perfect balance between work and passion, what you had always dreamed of.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

it was supposed to be a normal event, just a fan meet, nothing too fancy, nothing too extravagant. you’d been to these kinds of things before, but this time you had put a little more effort into your outfit. you reached into the back of your closet and pulled out a blouse that felt just right, simple but elegant. you paired it with a cute black pleated mini skirt that gave off just the right vibe, mature, yet playful and cool. you accessorized it with a delicate necklace and some minimalistic earrings, thinking you looked polished without being overdone. you felt good about it, maybe even a little proud. this was your chance to blend in with the crowd but still stand out, to look like you knew what you were doing, like you belonged here.

but, of course, it was just your luck that, within the first five minutes of arriving, disaster struck. you hadn’t even made it past the entrance when you bumped into someone - just a girl in a hurry, not really paying attention. in the blink of an eye, her coffee went flying, splashing all over your pristine white blouse. your stomach dropped. of course, the one thing you had worked so hard to get right - your outfit - was ruined. the girl immediately started apologizing, her face flushed with embarrassment, but you waved it off, trying to brush it off as no big deal. "it’s fine, really," you assured her, even though your mind was racing. you just needed to get to a bathroom, quickly, before the stain set in and ruined your entire day.

you made your way toward the restrooms, hoping to fix things up. but, as luck would have it, the first two bathrooms you found were packed with girls, all standing in front of the mirrors, touching up their makeup, chatting, or taking selfies. there was no space for you to even get close to a sink, let alone grab some paper towels and start trying to clean up the mess. the minutes ticked by, frustration mounting as you realized that every second you spent standing around, the stain was likely becoming more permanent. finally, when you thought things couldn’t get worse, you spotted an empty bathroom at the end of the hallway - an oasis in your streak of bad luck. no one was around, the door was open, and you rushed toward it with relief, thinking you might still salvage your blouse.

in your rush to get inside and fix things, you completely missed the sign posted outside the door. a simple, overlooked word, mens. you didn’t even register it before you burst into the bathroom. you grabbed a handful of paper towels, dampened them with water, and began dabbing at the stain with the urgency of someone trying to undo a mistake. it was already too late - the coffee had soaked in, and now you could only hope to minimize the damage. You could feel your heart pounding, trying to keep calm as you worked, praying that no one would walk in and catch you in the middle of your panic.

a toilet flushed behind you, its sound startlingly loud in the otherwise quiet bathroom. you were so absorbed in your task, desperately rubbing at the coffee stain with a damp paper towel, that you didn’t even register the sound at first. your focus was on nothing but trying to salvage your blouse, one dab at a time. the stain seemed to mock your efforts, refusing to lift. you were lost in the rhythm of it - dabbing, dabbing, dabbing - when suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke your concentration. a man’s shoes tapped lightly against the tile floor, and before you could react, he was standing next to you, casually washing his hands at the sink.

it wasn’t until he looked up at the mirror that you noticed him. his eyes locked onto your reflection, and a squeak - more of a startled gasp - escaped his mouth. the noise was enough to make your heart skip a beat, and without thinking, you whipped your head around to see what had caused the reaction. the instant you turned, your eyes locked with his, and your stomach dropped, and you realized, you’re in the wrong bathroom. your pulse spiked as your mind raced, the embarrassing realization dawning on you at the worst possible moment.

for a brief, breathless second, there was complete silence between the two of you. your eyes widened, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a shriek of your own - a high-pitched gasp of shock and embarrassment that echoed off the walls. the man froze, hands still hovering over the sink, clearly just as surprised as you were. the realization that you had just walked into a men’s bathroom, had been standing right next to him, not even noticing until now, it hit you all at once. your face drained of color, and a flush of mortification spread across your skin, from your neck to the tips of your ears. you wanted to sink through the floor, to disappear entirely, but all you could do was stand there, paralyzed in the awkwardness of the moment.

the man, equally stunned, stared at you for a long, excruciating beat, before his face turned a shade of red that could rival yours. every fiber of your being screamed to just run out of the bathroom, but you were frozen in place, desperately trying to act like you weren’t a complete disaster. you slowly took a step back, hoping to salvage what was left of your dignity - and maybe just run away before you could cause any more damage.

"i-i’m sorry," you stammer out, your voice faltering as your face burns with embarrassment. "i was in such a hurry i didn’t realize..."

"it’s okay," he replies, still blushing as he glances down at your blouse, his eyes briefly lingering on the stain. "you, uh... look like you’re dealing with quite the mess there."

"yeah... today is just a disaster," you admit with a sigh, your frustration evident in your tone.

he gives you a sympathetic look, then hesitates for a second, as though considering the best way to help. "it probably won’t come out with just water at this point," he observes, his voice trailing off as if he’s thinking through the best solution. without warning, he unzips his hoodie and pulls it off, handing it to you with a slight, sheepish smile. "here, use this. it should cover up the stain," he says, his eyes crinkling into cute little crescents as he smiles at you.

you blink in surprise for a moment, caught off guard by his kindness. "thanks," you reply, your voice soft, and you quickly slip the hoodie on, zipping it up. it’s a little big on you, but it feels warm and comforting, and you can’t help but return his smile, feeling a small spark of connection in the midst of your awkward situation.

"hey," he says, his voice hesitating for a moment, like he’s unsure of how to proceed. "i know this is kind of random, but… could i get your number? or, like, your instagram or something?" he looks sheepish, clearly embarrassed about asking, and you can’t help but find his shyness endearing.

you smile, feeling the awkwardness melt a little. "sure," you say, your heart beating just a little faster. he passes you his phone, opening a new contact, and you quickly type in your name and number. your fingers move quickly, but it feels like time slows down as you finish and hand the phone back to him.

"so, your name’s y/n?" he says, his eyes bright as he glances at the screen. "it’s pretty." he smiles again, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

"thanks," you reply, feeling a little giddy despite yourself. "well, anyway, it was fun meeting you." you let out a small laugh, trying to diffuse some of the lingering awkwardness between you two. "i’d better get going so i don’t miss the start," you add, raising your camera to gesture to the event outside. "i’ve got photos i need to take, and fans i have to feed."

he chuckles, nodding in agreement. "yeah, fans have been pretty starving for photos lately."

you hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to leave or say something else. you stand there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, but decide to settle on something that feels right in the moment. slowly, you back toward the door, giving him an awkward wave and a smile. "text me," you say, the words leaving your mouth before you can overthink it.

he grins, his eyes still crinkling with amusement as you turn to leave. "i will."

as soon as the door closes behind you, you collapse against the nearest wall, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest. the rush of adrenaline, combined with the sheer mortification of walking into the wrong bathroom, has your pulse racing, but now there's something else, too. the encounter - the way he smiled at you, how effortlessly kind he was, the way your conversation flowed once the awkwardness wore off—it’s all a whirlwind in your mind. and then, there’s the fact that you’d just met the cutest guy you’ve seen in forever, and he’d asked for your number. your face feels like it's on fire, but there’s a grin spreading across your face anyway.

you squint up at the ceiling and slowly squat down into a little ball, clutching the wall for support as your heart continues to beat like a drum. the hoodie he’d given you smells faintly like him - fresh, with a hint of something sweet and comforting - and you close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to savor the feeling. the moment feels so surreal, so unreal, but you can’t help but feel like it’s the start of something unexpected.

for a moment, you allow yourself to daydream, imagining the possibilities. your heart is still racing, and it feels like it might actually burst from the excitement. you can hardly believe it - what are the odds? a mistake, a coffee stain, and suddenly you're having this perfect, bizarre, heart-thumping interaction with someone who, in any other situation, you might have never crossed paths with. if this keeps up, you might literally die from a heart attack - your heart can’t seem to slow down, and you can’t stop grinning like an idiot.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sunoo collapses against the sink, heart pounding in his chest, face flushed from the unexpected encounter. at first, when he saw her - y/n - he had just assumed she was some overzealous fan trying to snap pictures of him in the bathroom, which, crazy as it sounded, had happened before. it was a wild situation to even think about, but it wasn’t totally unheard of. the thought that she might be after some candid shot of him in a vulnerable moment made his skin crawl. but then he had noticed something that completely threw him off: she wasn’t even looking at him. instead, she was fixated on something else—the stain on her shirt. there was no glimmer of recognition in her eyes, no sign that she had any clue who he was. the realization hit him in an instant—she wasn’t here for him at all.

the more he watched her, the more he saw her quietly trying to clean up the mess, the more he found himself charmed by her. when she realized she’d walked into the wrong bathroom, it was so obvious how mortified she was. her face turned the brightest shade of red, and she stammered out an apology, looking like she might just melt into the floor. it was almost adorable. instead of being embarrassed for himself, he couldn’t help but find her genuine discomfort endearing. and on top of that, the way she casually interacted with him - it was like she had no idea who he was. no fandom craziness, no over-the-top fan-girling. just... a normal conversation between two strangers. it was refreshing in a way he hadn’t expected.

on a sudden impulse, he’d asked for her number. it felt like the most natural thing in the world. how could he not? a stunning, confident girl who was totally his type had just wandered into his life by accident. dating someone while being an idol was looked down upon, but as long as he hid it well it would be fine, it wasn’t even like he was the first in the group to get a girlfriend. heeseung had had a girlfriend before, and the members had all been through their fair share of relationships. still, the thought of a girl not knowing who he was felt almost unreal. he hoped she wouldn’t find out and suddenly treat him like a celebrity, though. it would definitely complicate things.he hoped when she learned that he was part of enhypen, the group she was supposed to be taking photos for, things wouldn't get weird. he hoped she wouldn’t suddenly act awkward or distant. he just wanted to be seen as... well, just him, the real sunoo, and despite his usual confidence about his appearance, he found himself hoping she would find him attractive, something he had never worried about before.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. things had been going so well, but now the uncertainty was creeping in. would she text him back? would she even remember him the way he remembered her? maybe he was overthinking it. he was always so fixated on how he looked, how others saw him. but with her, it felt different. like it wasn't just about appearance, but about a genuine connection. the last thing he wanted was for that to get ruined by the whole idol thing. the thought of her walking away, thinking he was just another fan-chasing idol, made his stomach churn. but all he could do now was wait and hope.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

on your way to the main event, you spot a merch table tucked off to the side. surprisingly, the line is practically nonexistent—something that’s unheard of at events like this. on impulse, you decide to hop in the short line, intrigued by the merchandise on display. as you glance over the items, your eyes land on a pretty album titled simply ‘romance untold’. it looks cute, with soft, pastel-colored artwork and a sweet, romantic vibe. even though you have no idea what the idols look like yet, you feel a tug of curiosity. there’s something about the way the album is presented that draws you in. you’re sure you’ll fall in love with the group once you see them today, and it’ll be the perfect thing to flip through when you get home, a little memento of the day.

after making the quick purchase, you make your way into the main event space. you find a spot near the edge of the room, a nice angle where you can get some great shots of the idols. the excitement in the air is palpable, and the sea of eager fans around you buzzes with anticipation. you try to ignore the faint sense of discomfort as the crowd surges forward, pushing their way closer to the front. it’s always like this at big events - everyone wanting to be as close as possible, desperate for that connection with the stars they adore. you can’t help but feel a little bad for the boys, though. constantly surrounded by this intensity, always being viewed as more of a commodity than as people. of course, you know there are fans who genuinely care about their personalities, who want to see the candid moments behind the performance. but it’s hard to ignore the way others only see them for their fame. it must be exhausting, being unable to have a real, personal connection when you’re constantly on display.

the event officially kicks off when the boys walk on stage, and the crowd erupts in deafening screams, fans shrieking in excitement. you raise your camera instinctively, ready to catch the perfect shot. but as the boys make their way across the stage, your eyes widen in disbelief. standing right there, just a few feet in front of you, is the cute boy you met in the bathroom earlier. it’s him. the same boy, the one who had helped you with your coffee stain and awkwardly asked for your number. he’s up on stage now, dressed in a sleek stage outfit, his smile shining as the crowd goes wild for him. you freeze, your heart thumping as you realize the person you’d spoken to in such an unexpected, ordinary setting was a part of this incredibly popular group, standing in front of thousands of adoring fans.

your fingers hover over the camera, caught between snapping a picture of him on stage and trying to process the surreal realization. he's an idol. you can't help but feel a mix of emotions, shock, excitement, and maybe even a little disbelief. everything from the moment you met him in the bathroom suddenly feels like it was all leading to this. and now, as you watch him interact with the crowd, you can’t help but wonder if he remembers you - or if your interaction was just one fleeting moment, lost in the sea of faces he meets every day. either way, you can't deny it - seeing him up there, doing what he loves, surrounded by the energy of his fans, makes him all the more captivating.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You get home to your small studio apartment that night with a jumble of feelings in your stomach, you really aren't sure how to feel about this whole situation. you can’t help but smile, remembering how he’d been so cute, but also completely sweet, offering you his hoodie as you stammered through an apology. for those few minutes, he was just a friendly, kind stranger who made you feel like a bit of a mess.

seeing him later on stage was like looking at an entirely different person. the easygoing, endearing guy you’d met in the bathroom had somehow transformed into a star everyone had come to see. the cheers, the eyes on him… it was like watching two different versions of the same person, both mesmerizing but worlds apart.

you wander to the tiny kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water, glancing at your camera where all those shots are stored - photos of the day, of him, some of his group mates too, but while at the event your camera couldn't help drifting to take more shots of him. you’ve always had an eye for capturing people in the in-between, those glimpses when they forget about the camera and just are, having those photos of him felt intimate and you almost didn't want to share them.

you settle into an armchair by the window, watching the glow of the city outside. tomorrow, the photos will be waiting, and maybe when you look, you’ll find the boy from the bathroom shining through the idol on stage. for now, you close your eyes, feeling his kindness settle like a secret between you both.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

a notification on your phone startles you awake, and you realize you’d fallen asleep in your armchair while trying to detangle the events of the day. the screen casts a faint glow in the dim room, and you blink a few times, getting your bearings. ten pm. not too late, but late enough that you’d be dragging tomorrow. you pick up your phone and open the notification—a text from an unknown number. your heart skips, then flutters just a bit.

unknown: hey, it's late but i wanted to text you. i hope i didn’t freak you out too much when you saw me on stage today, and i’m sorry i didn’t say anything… it was just so nice meeting you without all the screaming, you know?

a smile spreads across your face as you read it. the way he texted was just like how he talked - a bit of a ramble, slightly scattered, but somehow so sweet. he was trying to explain himself, worried he might’ve left you confused, even a little hurt. but underneath the words was that same earnest charm you’d seen in his eyes back in the bathroom, that natural warmth he’d shown before you’d known who he really was.

you type back, fingers moving faster than your sleepy brain can keep up.

you: well, it was definitely a shock, but once i got over it, i think i actually managed to get some good photos haha

a pause, and then you bite your lip, feeling that tug of nervous excitement. he’d reached out - he hadn’t had to, but he did. part of you wants to say something clever, something that hints at how surreal the whole day has felt, but instead, you decide to let the moment be simple.

his next reply comes almost instantly.

unknown: can i see them sometime? the photos, i mean. it’d be fun to see your side of the day :)

another rush of warmth fills your chest. he wants to see your work. you quickly save his number, tapping in a name that feels right, even if it’s a little embarrassing: my cutie. maybe it’s cheesy, maybe even cringe, but it fits him somehow - the endearing guy behind the idol.

before you can think twice, you hit send.

you: absolutely! i’ll go easy on you and choose only the coolest shots… mostly.

my cutie: so merciful 😌

you laugh, covering your mouth as if he could hear you from miles away. the way he teased you, with that same lightheartedness, made it easy to forget who he was. at this moment, he wasn’t an idol, a star, or even the guy in your photos. he was just someone who’d crossed your path in the most unexpected way.

you lean back, watching the messages pop up one by one, each more endearing than the last. it’s not long before the clock creeps past midnight, and you’re still talking—about everything and nothing. he tells you about the foods he misses from home, you tell him about the weirdest photoshoots you’ve done. eventually, his last text appears on the screen, the letters a bit more spaced out as though he’s getting sleepy too.

my cutie: hey, don’t think too much about today, alright? i liked meeting you… just you. i hope you can think of me like that, not all this other stuff. sleep well, my photographer :)

you stare at the screen, reading the words over and over, your eyes catching on the last two words, my photographer. Maybe you were reading into it, but your heart raced and a blush creeped up your face

you: sweet dreams..

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

you woke up the next morning with a dull headache, the kind that reminded you you’d stayed up way too late. the soft morning light filtering through your curtains did little to ease the fog in your mind as you sat up and rubbed your temples. you really shouldn’t have stayed up so late. the night had been a blur of messages and thoughts, and now, in the quiet of the morning, it all felt almost surreal. your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the previous night, replaying the texts and wondering if it was all real.

you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and unlocked it, scrolling through your messages. sure enough, there it was - your conversation with him, still fresh on the screen. your heart skipped a beat as your eyes scanned his words, and a flutter of giddiness spread through your chest. it was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time, something light and warm that made you smile to yourself like you were holding onto a secret.

you stretched and groaned softly, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep, but the thought of him made it hard to focus on anything else. after a few more minutes of half-hearted attempts to wake up, you started getting ready for the event you had scheduled today. normally, you'd feel excited to be at another idol meet, camera in hand, ready to catch those perfect moments. but today, something was different. you were a lot less excited about meeting the idols after meeting him. sunoo, with his sweet messages and even sweeter personality, had somehow made the whole idol experience feel less… important. how could you focus on anyone else when he was already occupying so much of your thoughts?

still, you pulled yourself together, slipping into your outfit and grabbing your gear. you left the house and made your way to the venue, your usual excitement returning as you walked through the crowds of fans, eager to capture the perfect moments for fans. you focused on your work as best you could, snapping photos with precision, but a part of your mind was always wandering back to the messages with him. your fingers hovered over your camera, your heart racing every time you thought of the next time you’d get to talk to him again.

the day passed in a blur, each hour slipping by faster than the last. by the time you got home, you could barely keep your eyes open, but there was something more pressing than rest now, you needed to go through the photos. you decided to post a few teaser shots on your instagram, and checking your website to see if there were any new purchases. it was something you did every day, a small ritual, but today it felt like the least important thing on your mind.

after a quick check of your sales, you set your phone down and settled onto the couch for a while. your excitement for the evening overtaking the exhaustion from the day, you picked up your phone again, your fingers itching to text him, to pick up where you left off. you couldn’t help but feel hopeful about the possibility of talking to him for hours, the way he made you laugh and made you feel seen - even if it was all still so new.

you jumped as the phone in your hand vibrated, the sudden buzz breaking the silence of the room. you glanced down, a smile tugging at your lips when you saw the name on the screen.

my cutie: hey, you free?

your heart fluttered. it was funny, you’d been just about to send him a message yourself, and now here he was, texting you first. you couldn't help but feel a little giddy at the thought.

you: yeah, what's up?

there was a short pause before his reply came through. you could almost imagine him typing, fingers hesitating over the keys, like he was still unsure.

my cutie: well, nothing really, just wanted to talk to you again…

your heart skipped a beat at his words. it was so simple, but the way he said it made you feel… special. he wanted to talk to you again. you smiled to yourself, feeling that warmth bubble up inside.

you: that's fine with me haha, so how was your day?

there was a brief pause before he replied, and when his message came through, it felt so… gentle. his words were easy, like you were two old friends catching up after a long day.

my cutie: pretty good, actually. spent most of the day rehearsing, but it wasn’t too bad. honestly, it was nice to have a quiet day after all the craziness, and i kept thinking how nice it would be to talk to you again. so here i am. 😊

your heart skipped a beat. the way he said it was so sweet, and it made you feel like you were part of his day, something he looked forward to. you couldn’t help but smile as you typed your reply.

you: haha, glad! my day was pretty normal - took a bunch of photos, posted some stuff online… just the usual grind. but talking to you now is definitely the highlight of my day.

you paused, then added another message

you: so, what did you get up to today besides being a super idol lol

a beat passed, and you could almost hear his laugh through the phone. when his reply came, it was exactly the kind of sweet, teasing tone you’d hoped for.

my cutie: oh, you know, just being a super idol... rehearsing, eating my weight in snacks, pretending to be a professional 😅 but honestly, i was kinda looking forward to this all day.

you laughed,

you: i bet the snacks were more important than rehearsal, at least they would be for me haha

my cutie: hey, snacks are an essential part of the idol lifestyle! gotta keep the energy up, right :)

you laughed out loud, feeling completely at ease now, like you’d known him far longer than you actually had. the conversation flowed easily between the two of you, natural and comfortable, and you found yourself getting lost in the rhythm of it. everything felt so normal despite everything that made this situation anything but.

you: i’m sure the snacks were well worth it. so, do you often just, like, have an evening off where you can do nothing?

my cutie: ha, you have no idea how rare that is. but, yeah, i get the occasional evening off. Although i usually just lay on the couch, eating snacks, and watching k dramas. sometimes i just need to forget for a bit.

you: sounds pretty perfect, honestly. no better way to recharge.

there was a brief pause, and when his message came through, it was a little more thoughtful than the previous ones.

my cutie: yeah, it is. but honestly, talking to you like this is kinda the best recharge i’ve had in a while.

he quickly sent another message

my cutie: actually… i was wondering… how would you feel about meeting up sometime? we could, you know, hang out. maybe grab some food or something, just the two of us?

you blinked at the screen, your heart racing. it was such a simple invitation, yet it made your stomach flutter with excitement. He wanted to spend time with you, just the two of you. you quickly typed your reply, your fingers moving faster than you could think.

you: i’d love that. when were you thinking?

the reply came almost instantly, his message light and happy.

my cutie: how about this weekend? we can pick a spot, no pressure, just a nice, easy time together.

your heart skipped a beat at the idea of finally meeting him in person. it felt like everything was falling into place, and you couldn’t wait to share that moment with him.

you: that sounds perfect. i’m honestly so excited for it. 😊

my cutie: i’m really looking forward to it too. we can pick a spot, no pressure, just a nice, easy time together.

his words felt so relaxed and sweet, and the thought of a simple, carefree time together made your heart swell with affection.

you: can’t wait! talk soon, cutie. 😊

my cutie: talk soon! get some rest, okay? i’ll be thinking about you. 😌

You blush as you realize you called him a cutie over text. it wasn’t just a passing thought - no, you actually typed it out and sent it to him. You basically called him a cutie to his face, albeit through a screen, and now you're not sure if you're more embarrassed by the words or how quickly they slipped out.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sunoo was lying on the couch, completely sprawled out, his legs draped lazily over the armrest as he kicked his feet and grinned at his phone. he felt like a teenage girl, the way he was giddily tapping away, heart fluttering with every message from y/n. it was all so… effortless. so natural. talking to her felt like slipping into a warm blanket, and no matter how many times they texted, it never felt boring or dull. she was just so perfect in his eyes, so easy to talk to. the way she made him feel special without even trying, how her words were like little sparks of joy that lit up his day... he couldn’t help but smile at the screen, his heart swelling in his chest.

the conversations were always light, casual - never forced, always just right. but beneath the surface, sunoo felt something more. every message, every response, was like a sweet little secret they shared, even if neither of them had said it out loud yet. he was starting to realize he was way too invested, maybe even falling for her without meaning to. it was becoming obvious to him, but he still hadn’t figured out how to make her see it.

his heart skipped a beat when he thought back to last night - he’d worked up the courage to ask her to meet up this weekend. well, he hadn’t exactly called it a date - he didn’t want to scare her off - but he had definitely dropped enough hints, he felt his face heat up at the memory of how nervous he’d been.

as excited as he was, there was a wave of uncertainty. he was so down bad for her, so caught up in these feelings that he couldn’t quite control. the reality of it hit him in waves, especially when he realized just how badly he was falling for this perfect woman. he couldn’t help but feel like he was a little out of his depth.

it had been so quick, but it felt so right. every time he saw her name pop up on his phone, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. and the best part was, she seemed just as genuine, just as real as when they first met, she always treated him like a real person, like he wasn't a global superstar, it was nice. and yet, there was still that little doubt gnawing at him. was she feeling the same way, or was he reading too much into their conversations? it didn’t help that his group members were starting to catch on. they’d tease him relentlessly, calling him out when he’d get all starry-eyed and distracted.

sometimes, when they all gathered together, they’d look at him with knowing smirks, teasing him even more. but it wasn’t just his groupmates that were noticing. he couldn’t help it, he just stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop replaying their conversations in his head, imagining how things could unfold if they really took a step forward. it was terrifying and thrilling all at once.

and despite all that nervousness, that overwhelming feeling of uncertainty, sunoo couldn’t help but get even more excited. maybe it was reckless, maybe he should take it slow, but when it came to her, all he could think was what if… what if she felt the same way?

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

you woke up early on sunday, excitement buzzing in your chest. you knew today was the day. you wanted everything to be perfect - especially the way you looked. it was silly, you told yourself. you wanted him to like you for you, for the person you truly were, not just the way you looked. but still, there was that little part of you that wanted to catch his eye, make him think you were cute, maybe even a little alluring. just the thought of him noticing you in that way made your heart flutter.

you picked out a soft, fuzzy sweater that felt like a warm hug, paired it with a cute skirt and tights, something simple but put-together. it wasn’t over-the-top, just enough to feel confident, maybe even a little special. you took a few moments to do your makeup, just enough to highlight your features but not make it obvious. you wanted to look effortless, but also effortlessly cute. after a quick check in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, checked the time, and rushed out the door, heart racing with anticipation.

the coffee shop was just a short walk away, and you arrived a little earlier than you had planned. upon checking your phone, you realized you had arrived twenty minutes early. you smiled to yourself, relieved that you had plenty of time to settle in. you thought about grabbing a table to wait for him, maybe look over the menu or just check your messages, but when you walked in, your eyes immediately landed on him.

there he was, sitting at a small table by the window, already looking at you with those warm eyes, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. just like the first day you saw him, he looked effortlessly cute - his hair a little messy in that endearing way, his smile soft and inviting. he’s already here? your heart skipped a beat as your own cheeks flushed, warmth spreading across your face.

for a moment, you just stood there, taking in the sight of him, suddenly unsure of yourself. was he waiting for you? was he nervous too? but before you could think too much, your legs carried you toward the table. you smiled nervously, trying to keep your cool as you sat down across from him. you sat down across from sunoo, the nervous energy in the air palpable. there was a slight flush on his cheeks, the same adorable color you saw the first time you met him, and the way he smiled at you made your heart flutter.

“hey,” you said softly, smiling as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’m glad you’re here.”

“me too,” sunoo replied, his voice a little breathless. he adjusted in his seat, fidgeting with his cup before looking back at you, his eyes soft. “i, uh… i hope i’m not making things awkward. i don’t really do this often, you know? go out on, um, dates…” he trailed off, clearly trying to sound casual, but you could tell he was a little nervous. it was endearing. the way his words came out, a little stilted and unsure, but with a warmth that made you feel safe.

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling your nerves settle a bit. “it’s okay,” you said gently, reaching for your drink. “i’m nervous too, honestly. but it’s nice, right? just getting to know each other in a quiet, relaxed place.”

sunoo nodded eagerly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah, i agree. i like this. it’s nice not having to worry about people... you know, staring at us, or... getting distracted.”

the way he said it, so simple, made you feel a sense of calm. the pressure was off. it was just the two of you. the conversation flowed easily after that, like old friends catching up. you talked about everything—the coffee shop, your favorite books, movies, random little things that made you laugh. time seemed to slow down, and the more you learned about him, the more you liked him.

as the conversation continued, sunoo’s nervous energy seemed to settle, and he started to relax more, his gestures becoming a little more fluid. you noticed how his hands would gesture softly when he talked about something he loved, and how his eyes sparkled when he smiled at you. there was something magnetic about him, even in the small, intimate moments.

after a while, you both finished your drinks, and sunoo suggested moving on to the second part of the day. “so, i was thinking... do you want to go to the aquarium after this? i know it’s a little cliche, but i think it could be fun.” he looked at you with those wide, hopeful eyes, waiting for your response.

you smiled, feeling a wave of warmth fill your chest. “that sounds perfect. i love aquariums. it’s kind of romantic too, don’t you think? all those beautiful fish, soft lighting... it could be peaceful.”

sunoo’s face lit up. “yeah! exactly! i thought it might be nice, too.”

you both stood and walked out of the coffee shop together, the air crisp against your skin. sunoo seemed to walk a little closer to you now, and you couldn’t help but notice how your arms brushed occasionally. you could feel the electricity in the air—those small moments of closeness that made everything feel more meaningful.

when you arrived at the aquarium, the dim lighting and soothing sounds of water immediately set the tone. it was quieter here, peaceful. the gentle sway of the sea creatures and the soft glow of the tanks made everything feel almost dreamlike. as you strolled through the exhibits, you found yourselves walking slowly, side by side. sunoo kept glancing over at you, a soft smile on his face.

“this is nice,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “i’m glad we did this. it’s just… calm. and we can just… talk, you know? no pressure.”

you nodded, your heart swelling. “yeah, i feel the same. it’s nice to be able to take it slow. no rushing.”

there was a slight pause, the quiet around you only amplified by the soft bubbling of the water in the tanks. you stopped in front of a large tank filled with glowing jellyfish, their bodies floating gracefully. the soft light made everything feel even more serene. sunoo glanced at you and then at the jellyfish, his voice barely above a whisper.

“i think i like that about you,” he said, his words a little hesitant but so genuine. “you make me feel like i can just be myself around you.”

you looked at him, surprised by the tenderness in his voice. your heart skipped a beat as you realized how much it meant to share this moment together, you responded softly, your gaze meeting his a slight smile on your lips, “i’m really glad i’m here, with you.”

sunoo’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours for a moment before his lips curled into a small, shy smile. “me too. i didn’t think it’d feel this… nice. i guess i was kind of nervous, but now…” he trailed off, taking a small step closer. “i don’t want this to end, you know?”

you could feel your breath catch at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out gently, brushing your fingers against his hand. his eyes flickered down to your hand, then back to your face, a soft blush creeping up his neck. “i don’t either,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “i like this. being with you.”

there was a moment of silence, the world around you fading into the background as you both stood there, just looking at each other. the soft glow of the aquarium illuminated his face, and for a second, you felt like you were the only two people in the world. everything felt so simple, yet so perfect.

sunoo took a deep breath, as if summoning the courage for something. “do you maybe… want to do this again sometime? i mean, not the aquarium. but… you know. like, a real date. with you.”

your heart skipped, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “i’d like that,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. “i really would.”

sunoo smiled back, the shy, endearing boy you’d come to know so well, and for a moment, it felt like everything was falling perfectly into place. the date was everything you had hoped for - and more.

✩₊°.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

you left the aquarium, your mind still buzzing from the experience, but there was something else now - an undeniable tension in the air between you two. it felt different, almost electric. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but every time your hands brushed, it felt like something more than just a coincidence.

then, as you walked side by side down the sidewalk, sunoo’s hand gently found its way into yours. the warmth of his fingers wrapping around yours made your heart skip a beat. you didn’t even have time to process the action before a blush crept up your cheeks. looking over at him, you noticed his cheeks were flushed too, and his eyes were slightly widened, almost like he was still surprised by his own boldness. it was the sweetest thing you’d ever seen.

the two of you continued walking, your steps a little slower, savoring the moment. when you reached a quieter part of the sidewalk, you stopped and turned to face him. sunoo paused too, his eyes searching yours with a hint of curiosity.

you felt your heart race, your mouth suddenly dry. "i was wondering..." you started, unsure of how to phrase it, the words coming out more nervously than you intended. "would you want to come over and watch a movie?"

as the question left your mouth, you immediately felt heat rise in your face. it sounded so simple in your head, but now that it was out in the open, it felt much more vulnerable. “i-i’m just not sure i want today to end yet,” you mumbled, barely able to make eye contact, your blush deepening.

for a moment, the air seemed to hold its breath, and you were starting to feel like maybe you’d overstepped. but then you saw it—the way sunoo’s eyes softened, his lips curling into that familiar, shy smile you’d come to adore. he looked at you with a sense of warmth that made your heart flutter.

“honestly, i would love that,” he replied, his voice gentle, and there was something about the way he said it that made you feel like everything was falling into place.

your heart swelled with relief and excitement as you both continued holding hands, walking back to your place. the city lights around you were soft, casting a warm glow as you made your way to your apartment. it felt like the perfect end to a perfect day, and yet there was a sense of anticipation in the air, like something more was about to unfold.

once you got inside, the familiar comfort of your apartment seemed to settle around you. you slipped your shoes off and sank onto the couch, the soft cushions inviting you in. then, without really thinking about it, you moved a little closer to sunoo, leaning into him just enough to feel the warmth of his body against yours. you were suddenly aware of the way he tensed up a little, but it didn’t last long - he quickly relaxed into the position, and you could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he settled beside you.

you could both feel the electricity of the moment, the growing closeness that you both had been dancing around all evening. your stomach fluttered with nerves, but it felt right. it felt like you were both figuring out what this was. you grabbed the remote, trying to distract yourself a movie. you chose one of the first films that popped up on the screen—something lighthearted, you thought. but as the opening credits rolled, you suddenly realized you had made a terrible mistake. you hadn't checked the rating, and it was definitely not the kind of movie you’d intended. the film was rated R, and as the characters in the movie started to get closer, you felt the heat rise in your face again.

you tried to keep your focus on the screen, but every time the camera panned to the characters, your eyes couldn’t help but dart over to sunoo. you caught him quickly glancing away, a nervous chuckle escaping him. his whole body was a little tense, like he was trying to avoid acknowledging the fact that you were both watching an incredibly intimate scene.

the background noises from the movie only made things worse - moans and heated whispers. the tension between you two was palpable, like you could cut it with a knife. you were both blushing furiously, trying to ignore the scene unfolding, but it was impossible.

you tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a strangled cough. you grabbed the remote in a panic, fumbling with it as you quickly skipped ahead, fast-forwarding past the scene with a little too much force. but even as the steamy scene disappeared from the screen, the awkward energy lingered, and you both sat there, still feeling the weight of the moment.

for a long while, neither of you spoke. the movie played on, but it was clear that neither of you were really paying attention to it anymore. sunoo glanced over at you with a nervous smile, the soft lines of his face lit by the glow of the television screen.

you couldn’t help but lean in closer, the pull between you two too strong to ignore. you knew you probably shouldn’t, considering that whatever was going on between you was still undefined, and maybe rushing it wasn’t the smartest thing to do. but in that moment, it didn’t matter. the space between you seemed to shrink with each passing second, and you just couldn’t hold back anymore.

you glanced up at sunoo, and the warmth in his eyes made your heart flutter. there was a quiet intensity there, a longing that mirrored your own, and in that look, you found something you hadn’t expected - he wanted this too.

without thinking, you shifted, positioning yourself so you were now facing him, your body comfortably nestled in his lap. he clearly hadn’t expected the sudden move, and you could feel his breath hitch in surprise, but there was no tension, no hesitation. he relaxed almost immediately, his hands gently settling on your waist, as though he was silently saying, it’s okay, I want this too.

you paused for a moment, just taking him in. sunoo wasn’t bulky, not like other guys you had met, but he was slender and graceful, his body still holding the quiet strength of someone who took care of himself. his frame felt right against yours, and his face - so beautiful, so expressive - made your heart race. there was something about him, something that made every word feel softer and every movement feel like it meant something more.

his eyes flickered to your lips and back up to your eyes, a silent invitation, and without even thinking, you leaned in slightly. in a moment of shared understanding, he closed the distance between you two, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was gentle. his lips were soft and warm, the touch sweet. everything about the kiss was tender, but you could feel the undercurrent of desire in it. it was like he was pouring everything into that moment - the way he pulled you closer, his hands now gently resting on the curve of your back, holding you to him as if you might slip away. it was a sweet, almost perfect kiss, just like him - full of emotion, but soft, full of warmth and affection, like he was telling you everything he couldn't quite say with words. you broke the kiss, your faces still inches apart, both of you breathing a little faster, hearts racing. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, but there was an understanding. whatever this was between you - however undefined or new - it was real.

he broke the silence with a simple sentence “i don't want to go on anymore dates that might not be dates,” he said with a laugh, “i really want to go out with you for real, i’m in love with you.”

you smile, your heart still racing, “me too, i'm in love with you too.”

37 notes · View notes

maryonmega · 3 days ago

Text

You didn't ask

It's an idea that came to me in a dream and I posted on AO3 a few days ago: Vaugardians have the capacity to turn into dragons. There's some brainstormed lore too, but I'd rather leave it open for any future additions.

I call it Draconic Vaugard AU!

Again, thank you, @chimerical-daydreams for the designs

You wake up feeling like shit.

No surprise there. You heard the Head Housemaiden tell you to rest and not use craft for a while, then used craft again not even plural hours later.

Not that you regret it.

Your body is stiff and sore, but you can still move your neck enough to look out the window. It's clearly well into morning now. The House doesn't loom over you like a haunted castle anymore. The birds once frozen mid flight now cross the sky as free as nature intented.

On the bed besides yours, Odile is already awake and flipping through the familytale you got her two days ago. Her craft exaustion is not as bad as yours. She didn't loop through time hundreds of times then cut through the House alone then turned into a wish craft titan. But she did stop you from looping. That took strenght.

You hear footsteps up the stairs. Careful, but still noisy.

"Frin!"

Despite the soreness, you smile.

"Bonbon."

They're not as careful now, marching to beside the bed you're in. They have a tray in hands, and an excited look on their face.

"The tall lady said you need to rest, so I didn't wake you up, but you still have to get your strenght back, so you better eat too! But Dile also said you must have had my snacks a bunch of times, so I made a breakfast I'm sure you didn't have in forever school!"

My, someone's hyper. Not that you can blame them. You have to get better, than you all can get on your way to Bambouche.

"Thank you, snack leader, for providing."

Bonbon nods with pride, and puts the tray on your lap.

You try to sit up. Your arms give in before you can rise too much.

"Oh! Right! I have to tell everyone you're awake!"

You hear them rush down. The weight of the tray a tempting thing over your lap. What's this? Punishment?

Odile smirks at you. She must have noticed. Traitor.

"Good morning."

"Please, spare me. I just woke up."

"I haven't said anything. Yet." She marks and closes the book, her attention fully on you now "How are you feeling, Siffrin?"

"Like I got stomped on by many horses."

Odile nods, serious.

"Thank you for your honesty. Please be honest with the person taking care of your medication, too."

"I only lied two times!"

"You've been like this for a day and a half. And spent half of that time unconscious."

She's got you there.

There's footsteps again. More than one set this time. Bonnie bursts into the room like it's a competition. You're kind of scared they'll hit their face on the foot of the bed for a moment but they stop on time. Mira and Isa come in at a more reasonable speed.

"See? They're still awake! And tried to move, too!"

"Already?" Mira looks actually glad. Good "You really recover fast, Siffrin. Uhn, don't force yourself to get good faster, though. You might strain yourself."

You try to give her a thumbs up. Your arm is sore.

"Need help, buddy?"

Embarrassing~

You still nod. Isa gets beside you to help prop you up and sit against the headboard. You can see your breakfast now. No wonder there was good weight! Bread, jam, juice, cut fruit, even a couple chausson aux pommes. Someone takes the "regain strenght" expression seriously!

"Thank you." You offer your best smile and scoop up a piece of peach with the spoon "You're a peach."

You got a laught. Morning victory.

Chomp!

Stars, without the smell of burning sugar lingering all the time you can actually taste food!

"So, Siffrin..." Mirabelle sits on the bed, opposite side from Bonnie "Where are we?"

"In the clocktower."

"What happened two days ago?"

"We unfroze Vaugard."

"And why are you and Madame in bed rest?"

"Craft exaustion."

"He is conscious. Good!"

She claps her hands and straights her back.

"Am I losing something?"

On the other bed, Odile put the familytale on the headboard.

"You see, we intent to-"

"WE'RE GOING TO NILLE AS SOON AS YOU CAN STAND!"

"Boniface!"

"Sorry! But yes! You just need to get to stand again!"

"Well, being able to stand is just the The reference. Walking would be much better." Isa adds, and gives a half chuckle.

You swallow your food and look at him just to have a focus point.

You know just because you can walk doesn't mean you should walk long distances, specially as soon as you're able. Sure, if your friends want to go as soon as possible you can endure it, but...

"Isn't that a little risky?"

"A little, but it's faster." You can't argue with Mirabelle on that "That's why I think you should go on Isabeau." Wait, what? "He's bigger and his shape makes it easier to get a grip lying down. You can get some rest! I guess? You should probably do a test first? I know Madame Odile will be better too so she can go on me."

What?

Beside you, Isa nods.

"Right... Are you really okay with flying, Madame?"

What????????

"I'll survive, I guess. As long as Mirabelle doesn't mind getting more ties than a race horse."

"He, I'll survive too."

"Wait? What?! Fly?!?!"

Bonnie pouts.

"Of course we'll fly! The birds unfroze too, so it's safe now!"

"No! I mean, I know, just-!" You take a bite of one of the apple pastries. Delicious "How are you even going to do that?! And you're talking like it's no big deal!"

"Because, it's not?" Mira is looking at you with confusion "Wait, you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"We can turn into dragons."

...

You pinch your arm with nail.

Ow.

You're still here.

Wait a minute!

"You're pulling a prank on me!"

Odile opened her mouth. Before she spoke, Bonbon took a leap back, and-

It wasn't done in a flash, but, once it was, Bonbon was like a big eel with wings.

You think you're going crazy.

"Wh- I- You- Why didn't any of you do that all this time?!"

This time Isa responded.

"We didn't need to? Sure, flying is fast traveling, but you saw the birds, we didn't want to risk it. Tents and inns made to accomodate dragon forms are too expensive for long traveling. And, you saw Bonbon just now, it's not exactly puf and done, so not a good option when ambushed by an angry sadness."

This makes so much sense it's somehow making you feel crazier.

Little dragon Bonbon landed beside your legs on the bed, legless body slithering over the sheets. They look adorable.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Mira looks embarrassed. Oops, you said something wrong.

"I thought you knew." She looks away, fidgeting with her fingers.

How would you know when nobody tells you?????

"And, it's not like we talk about this all the time. It's weird!"

When your bafflement wears off, half of the breakfast is gone.

"How is it weird to talk about being dragons?!"

"Well Sif, think." Isa places a hand behind your back "It's just how Vaugardians are. Just another part of our lives. It would be like going to a place where people are like "Hello, I'm human", y'know?"

You nod.

...

No. You're not petting Bonnie like a dog. That's still a person.

You down the rest of your fruit.

"Why did you need the orbs, then? Couldn't you just, break down the gate?"

Silence. Were... Were those months of traveling for no reason?

Mira visibly holds back from picking at her nails.

"Siffrin, do you know what the orbs are?"

You're quiet, then shake your head.

"They're craft breakers. Very powerful craft breakers."

"Okay, what does that have to do with not breaking down the gate?"

"Houses of Change have shield craft on the outside. It's a particularly powerful craft, made by multiple people at once. So nobody can be made to break a House from outside. Even if multiple people do so as dragons."

... Oh.

"Combine with the time freeze, and it would be a lost battle. Thankfully, five orbs were enough to break the time craft. But, if they weren't, hopefully they would be powerful enough to break the shielding."

Oh.

Just... outside? Does that mean that the insides are breakable?

They are. You know they are. You broke that counter. Does that mean the other doors were breakable, too?

If... If you weren't so hasty to freeze yourself, would them decide that turning to try and break the door was an option?

"Something on your mind Sif?"

LIGHTLESS CODE LIGHTLESS CODE THINK OF SOMETHING!

"So all those stories about hoarding dragons are racist?"

Mira gives you an awkward smile.

"I, don't really want to say yes. Every tree bears bad fruit, and the loud ones get more noticed. If there's any type of predisposition, it's to get hyperfixations. For exemple, you can say I "hoard" classes."

You hear Bonbon make a noise, and see them wiggle and land on the floor. A bit of time, and they were a smiling human again.

"Oh! Oh! I guess I hoard recipes, then!"

"Interesting." Odile hums, and her gaze gets in your direction. What- "Do you hoard anything, Isabeau?"

Isa gives a big nod.

"Friends!"

Mira's face goes from awkward to pondering, and then realisation.

"Wait! So those cuddle piles after getting the orbs...?"

"Sleeping over my hoard."

You can't help but chuckle. He looks so proud, too!

"Why the surprise? Isn't your room on the last floor with dorms, Mirabelle?"

Mira starts stuttering. Poor lady. On the other side, Bonnie pouts.

"That's dumb. I don't sleep over recipe books."

"Maybe your time will come. You don't know."

Mira's turn to give a mischievous smile.

Stars, you could hear them for hours.

"Okaaaay, so, I'll have to see if I can safely ride Isa?"

You hear a squeak, and the hand on your back gets taken off so fast you hang way from the headboard for a couple of seconds.

"Sif! Don't say it like that!"

"Why? It's what I'll do, right?"

Odile is smiling so broard. What?

"Young one, you need to learn some Vaugardian idioms with urgency."

You blink.

You've been really left out, haven't you?

--------------------------------------------------------------

You're able of walking! A little bit. You need help to walk more than a couple of meters, but it's progress! Progress enough to do the test, it seens.

Bonnie lets go of your hand and gives you a pat on the side.

"Ask to get down if you need to, okay? Don't need you falling off and needing extra rest to recover from broken bones!"

Of course that's how they say it.

You nod.

"Alright, Za! Do the thing!"

"Your wish is my command!"

Just like before, it's not a snap of fingers.

You're not sure what you were expecting. You didn't expect Bonnie to be a winged eel. You think whatever came would take you aback.

Isa looks like a large lizard with wings, scaly and with a set of horns. Curiously, still regornizable. You... actually like that.

He lays on the floor, and moves his tail, inviting. Mira helps you get on his back, then backs off to where Odile is waiting with a saddle and chains. You can't judge her.

Another little scene, and you see Mira in all her glory. She looks like a mix between a snake and a bird, full of feathers. Regornizable. Bonnie too. All three are regornizable on those forms.

Hum, maybe that's why body craft is still prevalant. Maybe they don't really control how the forms will be without it.

You're unsure of what to do with your hands, then finally decide to just grasp the horns.

It's not so odd when you feel him lift into his paws. It is when he spreads his wings and starts lifting. And lifting. And lifting. You see the ground get farther. Without thinking, your grip tightens around the horns.

You... think there's an ulterior motive to choose this.

They must have missed flying.

#isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #isat fanfic #in stars and time fanfic #isat au #in stars and time au #Draconic Vaugard AU

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kryannoy · 1 day ago

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stop im so excited for ur upcoming sitetampo content!! btw if u ever need ideas… maybe rivals to lovers where y/n is also a brawl stars e-sport player for one of the teams 🙂‍↕️ but thats just a thought😇 hope u have fun writing for him even if you havent known him for along time!!

-sitetampo anon🍥

genre: fluff

warnings: this kind of became friends to rivals to lovers, friendly rival-ish with sitetampo

a/n: i am having way too much fun

Let's say you are part of ZETA Division.

He was once a ZETA member but then he made his choice to join Crazy Raccoon and now, you guys became rivals.

In ZETA, he is a decent guy. Shy but fun to talk to. You saw his admirable skills and you have to admit it, a lot of times he has carried your team.

You have brawled against him for funsies/practice sometimes but never exactly brawled in a competition.

So, when it was a match between ZETA Division and Crazy Raccoon, you were quite nervous yet excited. You never thought a day would come where you and him brawled competitively to win the prize and the title of World Champions. It has always been you both winning together.

He made eye contact with you on the stage and he smiled. You were happy he didn't turn his back on you at all ever since he left ZETA. He still invited you in his lobby to play together.

Of course you return the smile.

And the match begins after you all have banned and chosen your characters.

With a few sets and scores, the results have finally revealed that Crazy Raccoon will be advancing to the finals.

You knew anyway, that he would definitely win and he was the MVP for the whole match. He was a formidable opponent and you really hate to admit that he's so good at the game that you felt like tears welling up for losing. And even more so to see Crazy Raccoon celebrating among themselves. Gosh, you aren't there. With him.

It was time to fist bump the opposing team and when it was to fist bump with Sitetampo, he saw your sad expression and immediately gave you a hug instead. But it was a short one, a few pats on the back and he moved on to your next team member to fist bump.

Backstage, he found you outside your waiting room.

"You did great out there," he says. He continues to cheer you up. But for you, his presence is enough. You missed that friendship of yours with him. It's not like it's gone, but in competitions, you both are rivals.

Years after years, you and him on stage are rivals. But off stage, you guys are best buds.

There have been times you won against him so you try to cheer him up like he did to you. But for him, he also doesn't need that. He already knows you're a formidable opponent and it was fun to brawl with you.

Days after the world's finals (and CR placing second), there is no way he's going to tell you this. But gosh, has he developed feelings towards you? But you're his friend and rival. Wouldn't it be awkward if both of you are dating yet rivals? And would you even accept his feelings?

Screw it, he'll shoot his shot. You never know.

After a celebration party you guys had and everyone's ready to leave, he stopped you. He asked if you had time and of course, you'd do anything to be with him.

Once he uttered his confession, your eyes widened. You couldn't believe what he said.

Your friend, your rival, the Sitetampo liked you back?

You couldn't hold back your joy and hugged him tightly. You feel his arms wrapped around your waist.

That night, he walked you to your hotel and he felt like he won.

#sitetampo #sitetampo fluff #sitetampo brawl stars #sitetampo x reader #sitetampo brainrot #brawl stars #brawl stars world finals 2024

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dandyshucks · 2 months ago

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yall im honestly a little afraid of getting very far in this game bc i am notorious for never using TMs or HMs unless its necessary for like. getting around. like the rock break one for example. and also i never use X Defense or X Attacks, i just don't use items and I let my pkmn learn moves naturally so i'm scaredddd of like... the Z-move stuff,,, and any other boost elements of the game,,, it just feels overwhelming and its hard for me to choose what to use where bc im already flailing around as is - i'm just really Bad at strategizing 😭😭😭

#i play it like a game. i dont play it like a competition sfdjkl #i feel like most games have turned into competitions. i dont play competitively... i play for fun and frolicking and giggles.....#i choose pkmn based on looks and how much they make me smile HFDSGJKL i dont put teams together for strategyyyyy #i try to make my team relatively balanced but i cannot keep all the type-matchups in my brain so i just sort of do my best #im like... not a pkmn guy. or at least not in the typical sense. i love these silly critters but i do Not understand how it all works LOL #anyways. its a game for children. im sure i will be okay fsdfjkl i should not be getting like... genuinely stressed about this #it is a GAME. HAVE FUN PLAYING IT. DON'T STRESS YOURSELF OUT OF PLAYING ANYMORE. RRGRGRHHH #but even in pkmn sleep i dont use any of the skill seeds or anything fsdjkl and i rarely use the team whistle thing #i have like 10 whistles that i've collected from rewards or whatnot and just... never touch them. and like five seeds 😭#i just get scared of items HFDSSJKL it feels too overwhelming to try to make choices bc what if i make a bad choice and regret it...#dandy.cmd #dandy.exe

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theminecraftbee · 2 years ago

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also i'm still more a ygo nerd than a magic one, but i HAVE been playing more magic lately than ygo and also i see a bunch of people who are new to card games being introduced to things like "why do these people enjoy the game differently than me" so i do think maybe you should be introduced to timmy, johnny, and spike,

#hctcg #for the record if you don't want to read it: it's a mark rosewater essay on the three types of card game players mtg rnd uses to design #timmy likes big impressive numbers and stats - things that hit hard and fast and feel bombastic #johnny likes combos and weird self-expression - things that have unique interactions and feel fun to make work correctly #spike likes winning and being on top of the meta - trying to find what is 'best' and using that is how spike enjoys the game #all three of them will pretty much always exist in any card game (and in... basically any competitive game tbh)#and all three of them are important to how the game works and is designed #and if you're grating against certain kinds of players try splitting out and playing against more guys that are your type!#anyway i WISH i could easily get essays from pkmn or ygo on game design but mtg are the only ones who talk about it online all the time #so if you WANT resources on 'how a tcg is designed' mtg designers are often the place to go #i am continuing to be SUCH a nerd tbh #do you want my 'banlists and how you should use them' opinions because OH BOY I HAVE THOSE #also i am more of a johnny than anything here but i also like winning a lot so i'm probably that johnny/spike corner

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lovelyrotter · 4 months ago

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yknow that feeling when a single attempted light n friendly conversation with your sibling is so completely onesided bc that sibling so thouroughly looks down on you that youre barely a person in their eyes? yeah that shits seriously mood ruining

#my t #i gotta learn to stop trying with her #just because shes 5 yrs younger doesnt mean im responsible for her anything like #jesus we have the abused eldest sibling guilt *bad*#but she wrote us off as soon as she turned 18 #like you spoiled little shit just bc you could afford to go to college and live like youre from pinterest #some of us have CPTSD and no savings bc *you* wanted ur pinterest life karen jr #basically she believes that people who portray any kind of symptom of mental illness isnt worth her air. shes deeply ableist #and she got it all from her best buddy our mother. theyre pretty much the same person its fucked #and its really funny to me bc im pretty sure we all have NPD #like both of my siblings plus my mother and us. only our dad is saved but he has crippling anxiety that runs in his own family #but im the only one whos doing any kind of work on that at any given moment #thus in a way fueling our NPD in a more constructive way bc we really ARE better than them (as people) LMAO #of the mind that everyone deserves a little bit of the lesser known constructive-competitive flavour of narcissism to trick themselves into #becoming better people hahaha #okay i feel better now

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poisonf0rest · 2 months ago

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The Best Dreams Come in Threes

♱⋅── rafayel x reader x xavier

♱⋅── about: Rafayel and Xavier have always been there for you. One is your fire, your passion, the twin flame to your temper. The other is your light, a guiding beacon, your twin star. So when you have a nightmare, they take it upon themselves to comfort and remind you of their unconditional devotion. Even if it does lead to competition every now and then.

♱⋅── word count: 7.5k (mf...)

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, it's just nasty, threesome, jealousy, somnophilia, oral, pussydrunk boys, breeding kink, double penetration, slight spoilers

♱⋅── a/n: apologies to the two random strangers on the plane that I sat next to when the idea of this fic possessed me. I really, really hope you didn't read anything I was frantically writing down in the midst of me finishing my work report cause that shit was nasty.

art credit and inspiration due to the wonderful @/sakimenz

Lonely star, who do you shine for?

The weight of all your pasts- of all your futures- the guilt and pride you carry will only cause you to collapse, and all that will be left will be an all-consuming black hole.

Your desperation won’t bring your sun back.

Lonely king, don’t you know a kingdom devoid of life is a crown devoid of purpose?

You were the fire that left them, and all you have to show for the betrayal is a drowned memory and a heart wrenched from your chest, a broken promise and a forgotten story.

You’ve changed with each lifetime, but you’ll forever be at the mercy of fate.

And you? You’re the very curse that haunts them.

Claws, so cold they burn, emerge from the darkness before piercing through flesh, tearing through muscle and bone as they dig into your ribcage, dragging you down into the shadows. Drowning, falling. You’re spiraling through lifetimes of failure, lifetimes of pain both your own and not, all while the claws dig closer and closer to your heart, clutching the muscle like a songbird in a cage.

It’s the price, the price you must pay for all this pain you’ve caused, for dooming a star and killing a god.

The clawed hand wraps around your heart, the piercing into the fluttering pulse faster and faster until—

You wake up crying.

A hot trail of tears slides into the pillows, and a sniffle rakes through your body, the sudden movement causing a subtle disturbance to the two forms still sound asleep on either side of you.

Funny, you can’t remember a thing, but there’s a painful throb in your chest. You’ll take another dose of your heart medicine in the morning.

But for now, your bedroom is still dulled by the pale blue moonlight filtering through the curtains, and you’re in no hurry to get out of the warm covers and their embrace.

The nightmares have become routine at this point. You never remember what they are, but you wake up with a sense of fear and dread, as though you can feel the pain all over again. It’s best not to think too much about it.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you inhale shakily one last time, trying to shake off the looming feeling when the arm around your waist shifts, tugging lightly at your loose sleep shirt before slipping under to massage the skin beneath. You let out a soft sigh, a light shudder going through your body as the gentle hands work away the tension.

“The same?” Rafayel’s words are slurred with sleep and concern, hot breath dancing along the crook of your neck as he props himself up on his elbow. You nod.

Rafayel makes a small, displeased noise before his other arm pulls you closer, his bare chest now flush against your back. The sudden movement forces Xavier, who was once tucked against your shoulder, further away, grumbling at the loss even in his sleep.

His face scrunches, brows furrowed together before the corners of his lips turn downward, and he blindly reaches for you. He eventually finds the curve of your waist, and his hand tightens on the fabric of your shirt as it slides in above Rafayel’s.

A huff, and Xavier buries his face back into your chest, his warm breath tickling you. And then, gentle snores— you should've known better than to think that would be enough to wake him.

Rafayel, still pressed firmly against your back, begins to move, propping his body up just enough to look you in the eyes as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. "Wanna talk about it, cutie?"

“I… I think you were there, both of you. But it felt lonely, painful.”

Rafayel's face contorts into a worried expression, his hand moves down your cheek, cupping your jaw, and you lean into his warm caress with a sigh.

You place a kiss on his palm. "It's okay, just a scary dream. Nothing real. Nothing to worry about." You repeat it, more to yourself than Rafayel, but his arms wrap around you anyway.

And yet Rafayel looks at you with a deep furrow in his brow, a seriousness you’ve almost never seen on him.

You give him a questioning look, but his lips press to yours in a searing kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. He pulls away only for a second, whispering sweet nothings against your skin before returning his lips to yours, the hand cradling your face slipping down to rest on your hip.

He kisses you softly, gently. First pressing a trail of light, chaste kisses along your jaw, the corners of your mouth, and nose, then moving back to your lips. “We’ll never leave you. We’d tear through every universe, every destiny to get back to you.”

Strange, how Rafayel says it with all the reverence of a vow.

You want to tease him for the sudden declaration, for making all this fuss over a stupid dream, but you never have the opportunity, not when Rafayel's signature smirk settles back onto his lips.

His hand slides down to your thighs, fingers teasing around the band of your sleep shorts, toying, pressing, but never crossing the self-imposed boundary of your clothes. “Unless, you’d prefer it if I proved it to you?”

“Rafayel,” you warn, hoping your narrowed glare would dissuade him.

Of course the man only seems to take that as a challenge, smile widening as you flinch at the cold touch creeping under your shirt. One palm traces up your ribcage, long, nimble fingers rubbing circles against your skin until he brushes the underside of your breast.

You shudder, hissing out another string of curses before turning around so your back is to Rafayel.

Really, you should know better than to think that alone would be enough, and a hot trail of kisses now joins his wandering hands down your shoulder blade. They start innocent enough, sweet, lingering touches along the hem of your shirt, but that quickly changes when Rafayel’s arm under your shirt practically yanks it up, sucking wet, messy kisses into the bare curves of your chest.

Each nip against your sensitive flesh forces the possibility of sleep further and further away, and you resort to distracting yourself with the motionless silhouette of Xavier. Petting through his hair, your rhythm is jolted every time Rafayel decides to leave a mark, nails pulling through Xavier’s locks as you bite your lip on a moan.

You don't miss the curve of his smirk against your skin, and the next kiss is accompanied by a bite, hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp that stirs Xavier. Tense, you scan the blonde's face, but he's nothing if not a heavy sleeper, and he nuzzles further into your touch, still unconscious as his head tucks under yours.

You don't get to sigh in relief. Instead, a whine builds in your throat, the wet heat of Rafayel's teeth tugging on the strap of your underwear as he fists your sleep shorts down.

"Rafayel, stop it,” you hiss as his hot breath hits the already embarrassingly damp center of your underwear.

His smile grows, lips brushing against your clothed core as he tilts his head. “Hmm? But you don’t sound like you want me to stop. And she certainly doesn’t sound like it either.” Two fingers dip under the band, and he parts your cunt with a lewd click.

Your face flushes in embarrassment, refusing to acknowledge just how easily your body gives in to them. One hand leaves Xavier, roughly fisting into Rafayel’s curls as he groans from the sharp pressure. “That’s because you and Xavier refused to wear protection!”

The accusation earns a hushed laugh, his shoulders shaking against the insides of your thighs. It would have been innocent, the same contagious sort of smile gracing Rafayel’s face, if not the shadows cast across his face in the dark, teeth gleaming like fangs as he traces his tongue up the entire length of your clothed cunt.

"M’sorry, we thought you'd enjoy the mess," he says, words muffled over your thighs, nose practically buried in between. "How can I make it up to you, cutie?”

You don’t get a chance to respond, not when Rafayel’s tongue dives into your clothed cunt, moaning against the soaked fabric as you gasp and force him closer by his hair. To muffle his sounds, you tell yourself. A pathetic lie considering how much louder he gets now, nose grinding up against your clit as his tongue tries to press into your fluttering cunt even with the barrier of cloth in between.

God, he’s addicted, and it doesn’t take long until Rafayel’s spit and your slick soak through your underwear, the near-translucent fabric sticking to your lips as the bare minimum friction nearly drives you insane.

“Say it,” Rafayel whines, nuzzling his face against your inner thigh. “Please, just tell me how badly you want me. Tell me, and I’ll do anything you ask.”

Like he wouldn’t already.

But how could you ever deny him when he begs so sweetly?

Your palm cups his face, watching his near-wrecked expression and flushed skin tremble beneath your fingers. “I’m yours, Rafayel.”

And the fabric is ripped into pieces.

Refusing to even breathe, Rafayel places an opened-mouth kiss on your cunt, lapping up your slick with the most satisfied moan. He doesn't waste any time, not while your confession coated his mind with the sweetest type of intoxication, eating you out like he was depraved.

He might as well have been with how he moans, hips grinding desperately against the edge of the mattress, his not-entirely human tongue curling in and out of you as it writhes with terrifying accuracy against your walls.

It feels too good to be ashamed of the noises you make, gasping and crying out until you slam your palm over your mouth, biting down hard as the other claws into Rafayel’s hair. You can barely control yourself, half fighting to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure, half rocking your hips up and down his face as you jerk him closer.

“Mhm, greedy.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat before his words are muffled into your cunt, not baring to part for even a breath. “Pull on it, please. Harder.”

You tug Rafayel’s hair almost in vengeance when he purposefully kisses away from where you need him most, licking and sucking obscenely into your thighs just to hear your frustrated cries even over your hand.

He loved being used like this, so long as it was you.

So long as it was him that turned you into such a beautiful, pathetic mess.

It's not long until Rafayel pulls you close to the edge, nose pressing against your clit while thrusting his tongue into you, eyes rolling back from the taste and from the thought of your tight heat fluttering around his cock instead.

And then, he stops, pulling away and leaving you gasping into the tear-stained pillow.

You bite back a sob, releasing only a choked little noise that has Rafayel's eyes flicking up to your face, the soft, concerned look in his eyes melting into something far more dangerous.

With viciously dilated pupils and your slick dripping from his mouth, Rafayel stares you down as every inch the dangerous siren the legends claimed him to be. He smiles, tongue raking over his teeth as though he couldn’t get enough of your taste, and you swear you’d let him eat your heart and soul. Gods, you’d let him eat you whole.

You realize you must have made a sound, because Rafayel hushes you, pressing quick kisses to your knee. "Aw, what happened to being quiet? Aren't you afraid we'll wake the poor sleeping bunny?"

At the mention of your other partner, you turn to where Xavier’s nuzzling his face further into your side, each warm breath damp against your feverish skin, still lost to the realm of dreams.

Not that Rafayel allows your attention to turn away from himself for too long.

He leans over Xavier, the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight cupping your face, and his lips are crashing into yours with all the viciousness of a summer seastorm. Your lips part, and Rafeyel fucks his tongue into your mouth the same he did your pussy, wet and desperate, the taste of yourself enough to make you dizzy.

"Tell me,” Rafayel’s tone dips into something darker, kissing down your throat and stomach as he eyes Xavier. “Who’s the better lover?"

Xavier's fingers flex, the tips brushing against the curve of your breast as he sleeps, and Rafayel's smile is almost predatory.

"D-don't ask stupid questions you dumb fish," your voice cracks as Rafayel's mouth ghosts over your cunt, teeth bared to your thigh, threatening to bite. "I chose you both."

The confession, as expected, doesn't please him. If anything, he seems overly offended, pouting and huffing a cold breath of air right against your aching core. The chill makes you squirm, trying to force him back to your center with the grip you have on his hair.

"No. Nope. That's not an answer."

"Raf–"

His name breaks off in a moan, sound ripped from your throat as Rafayel's thumb starts rubbing firm circles around your neglected clit. He doesn't relent, the pressure too much, too quick, your body already trembling from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to torture you with.

Only, it seems that all your sudden noise and movement have finally begun to affect Xavier. Not enough to wake him, but enough that you can hear his breathing become heavier, following your every twitch and buck from Rafayel’s onslaught as his body begins to grind into yours.

Mumbling into your neck, Xavier’s hand tightens around your waist before slipping under your shirt to palm your breasts, squeezing and kneading until the touch has you keening.

Xavier's still fast asleep, nonsensical words slurred against your skin, and yet his body is now far from it. His erection is thick and heavy against your hips, grinding desperately into your warmth almost in time to Rafayel’s ministrations, whimpering under his breath with every forceful thrust.

Rafayel notices too, his gaze drifting up to the blond. You can't see his face, already busied between your legs once more, but a pleased hum vibrates through his entire body, fingers finally slipping into your cunt as he curls them just right, your back arching off the sheets with a silent scream.

Xavier whines at your sudden thrashing, tugging you closer and unknowingly forcing you immobile and at complete mercy to Rafayel’s unfairly skilled fingers. "Mhm, so warm. Please, m’want to..." Another needy, slow grind against you follows his sleepy request.

"Rafayel," you choke out a muffled plea, but his eyes only narrow, taking a breath as his free hand grabs at Xavier's ass, the touch just light enough to tease and make him rut harder against you.

"What is it, cutie? Don't pretend like you don't want more, not when your pretty pussy's drooling for his cock. She’s so needy, am I not enough?”

Rafayel rests his head on the inside of your thigh, fingers thrusting roughly into that sweet spongy spot inside you just as his other hand wraps around the base of Xavier's cock through his boxers, thumbing over the pre-cum staining the dark fabric.

You're forced to bite down on the pillow beneath your head to stop the desperate cry tearing itself out of your throat. "This isn’t- ah- isn’t right."

"Isn't it? You’re dripping and the little bunny’s still asleep, yet look how desperate he is, rutting against you." Rafayel's voice dips, a raspy edge from his throat still fucking into you making it even more sinful, slurping everything you give him around his fingers before it drips down his wrist and into a puddle below. A huff, “I should get rewarded with how much effort I’m putting in.”

You cry out, legs trembling as his thumb begins its relentless attack on your clit, tracing mindless circles just random enough to keep you on edge. You're close, and Rafayel can feel it.

Xavier isn’t faring much better, whimpering a string of incoherent pleas into the crook of your neck as his hips keep rocking into the fist around him. He doesn't take his mouth away from the skin of your shoulder, biting down on it as he cums, shuddering and whimpering as the mess splatters down Rafayel's knuckles and onto your thighs.

“You’re next. If you won’t be honest with me, I’ll make your body is.” Rafayel’s taunt is the last coherent thing you remember before you come. Hard. His words ring against your skull as his fingers pump into you faster, and the pressure against your clit becomes almost unbearable, and you're falling apart, crying and thrashing, the only thing keeping you grounded is the feeling of Rafayel's weight and the scent of Xavier's strawberry shampoo, and then—

Rafayel finally shuts up to let you ride his face through your high, letting you use him as your thighs lock around his head, grinding desperately as though he were no more than a toy. No chance of breathing, no chance of escape.

Not that he could care less, not as long as he could keep his lips around your gushing cunt, humming and sucking into your release as cum sprays over his tongue and down his chin. Gods, he could never get enough of this.

You're still shaking through your orgasm, pliant and stupid from the dizzying pleasure, that you don't notice the rustle of sheets until a second pair of hands slide down your thighs.

"You’re doing this without me?"

Xavier’s voice is a whisper, husky from sleep and his orgasm as he presses a kiss right below your ear, fingers squeezing rougher against your breasts.

"S-sorry. Didn't want to wake you," you try, biting back a gasp when his thumb flicks over a nipple. Rough. Mean.

Rafayel snorts. "I think it's a bit too late for that.” A glare at Xavier over your leg, showing off your cum still dripping from his lips and fingers. ”Besides, I didn't need you."

You want to argue, really, but then Xavier is grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging just hard enough to push your head back, coaxing a moan from your throat as he marks down your neck with kisses intending to bruise. He’s pouting, grabbing your jaw as he forces your gaze away from Rafayel, nipping your bottom lip until you surrender to his drowsy advances.

“Why…” Another kiss before Xavier's licking desperately into your mouth, “Why didn't you wake me?"

The question comes out a little breathless, almost petulant, eyes hooded and dark as he looks over the mess Rafayel has made of you. He can't tear his eyes away, watching Rafayel even as he kisses you. His fingers flick over your nipple again, twisting and pinching until you're shaking, your thighs squeezing Rafayel's face, all while Xavier watches.

Said man only smiles, all smug arrogance. "Didn't you hear her, Xav? She said she didn't want to wake you, so don't blame me."

Rafayel drags a wet, open-mouthed kiss over your cunt, the overstimulation making you break the kiss with a gasp.

"Liar." Xavier's voice trembles, and you can't tell if he's referring to Rafayel's words, or the way he's staring longingly at Rafayel's lips now, still slick with your release. "You just wanted her all to yourself."

He doesn't bother giving Rafayel a chance to retort, taking the punishment out on you as he dips his head underneath your folded-up shirt, groaning as his hot tongue rolls over your nipple, sucking at the stiff peak as his hand continues to assault the other. The onslaught has you whimpering, pushing and clawing against Xavier’s shoulder to try and fight him off as he refuses to let go for even a moment.

Rafayel's not one to be ignored, not when he has the advantage, and his tongue is back to fucking into your cunt with no reprieve, a cruel smirk on his face as you writhe and beg for their mercy.

Your hips roll, torn between pleasure and oversensitivity, unable to escape either of the men. It's overwhelming. Too much, too quickly, you only just came and you're already getting dragged back.

"Ah! Stop, I'm already mhm—"

You're interrupted by Xavier's tongue slipping into your mouth, a filthy, lazy slide that makes you grind up into Rafayel's tongue. It's like he doesn't even need to breathe, the wet, sloppy sounds of him eating you out drowned out only by the sound of Xavier kissing you senseless, pausing just to nip and suck at your breasts as though he'll get rewarded if he just tries hard enough.

"You want him to stop? Is the mermaid not enough to satisfy you, princess?" Xavier taunts, lips brushing against your ear as his hips push up, grinding his cock against your thigh. "If that's the case, perhaps we should switch. I can give you exactly what you want, remember?"

“Shut up, I’m the one making her cum.”

“Only cause I wasn’t awake yet.”

“You snooze, you lose. Whose fault is that? Oh ya, yours.”

They're at each other's throats yet again, practically clawing and snapping at each other, and you're helpless to try and intervene when they take their faux anger out on your poor abused body.

You can't think, can't focus, can't do anything but shake and pant and sob into the pillow, their combined weight on top of you, forcing your pleasure higher and higher.

“Xav—" He cuts you off with a kiss.

“Shh, just take it."

You can't even tell who’s sloppier anymore- Xavier fucking your mouth with his tongue or Rafayel still eating you through your second orgasm, the sudden hit of it thundering down your body.

“You look so pretty when you come," Xavier moans into your lips, his eyes half-lidded and glazed, hand coming up to stroke your cheek as he watches you, a sharp contrast to the other still rolling against your swollen nipple, loving the way you jerk into his touch. Then a glare to the man below. "My turn.”

Your body is still trembling, Rafayel's merciless fingers not allowing you to come down from your high, aftershocks of hypersensitivity crashing down your spine as every muscle spasms. No more. No more, please. You can’t possibly come again.

You don't realize you’re begging out loud, not until Xavier shushes you with another bruising kiss.

But it doesn't seem like Rafayel has any plans on stopping, not until Xavier’s hand skims down your thighs and yanks him up by the chain of his necklace.

Rafayel growls as he's practically forced off your weeping cunt, eyes bleary and unfocused as he fights the blond's grip. And god, he looks absolutely wrecked, spit and cum dripping from his mouth and chin, connecting his lips to your pussy in sticky wet strands before they break, and you feel the unmistakable bulge of his cock straining against his soaked boxers.

Xavier yanks him forward, pulling the necklace chain until he crashes his lips onto Rafayel's, all teeth and tongue, desperate to get a taste of your cum from his mouth. It's filthy, and Rafayel is the first to give in, still drunk off your taste and now Xavier's too.

"Mhm, you taste like her," Xavier whispers, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together, his mouth still moving against Rafayel's swollen, parted lips.

"Ya?" Rafayel’s grin is predatory, all fang and sin. "You wanna try too, don’t you? Give in then, bunny, lie down for us.”

"I don't take orders from you."

Xavier scowls against Rafayel's lips, but you can feel his resolve breaking, his arm trembling where it rests against your thigh.

"No, you take them from her, and she asked us so, so nicely to make her come. You wouldn't dare deny her that, would you?”

The Lemurian is nothing if not dangerously persistent, one hand coaxing Xavier backward so gently you don’t think he realizes how easily he’s falling, the other clawing down his abs as Rafayel bites against the erratic thud of Xavier’s pulse. Sharp and bruising, a silent promise for what to come. "Or do you wanna eat her out like I did? Have her ride your face while I fuck into her poor, desperate cunt? I can't decide, there are so many options."

“No.” It’s more a plea than a demand. Xavier's voice shakes with need, and you watch, dizzy and panting, as Rafayel's fingers slip underneath the waistband of Xavier's boxers. His fingers, still dripping with your cum, brush down the length of his cock, thumb circling the sensitive head and smearing the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from it. “You had y-your turn.”

He can hardly finish his objection, not when Rafayel’s thumb comes up to abuse his leaking slit, Xavier’s words slurring into a desperate whine as he practically collapses back onto his elbows. Immediately, Rafayel is atop him.

"A competition, then." Rafayel leans down to whisper into Xavier's ear, but the words are purposefully teased out loud enough for you to hear, “But you lose if you cum first, and I get to fuck her.”

It's a low blow, a challenge he knows Xavier can't turn down.

A challenge that somehow has you poised once again as the torment and the reward.

And it's true, because the second the words register, the blond's eyes shoot open, and his cock jerks violently against Rafeyel’s palm, a broken sound leaving his lips as his eyes lock back onto yours with all the promise of a starving hunter.

"Deal.”

Xavier doesn't allow the agreement to go without a price. Something snaps, the bedroom flickering with a sudden darkness as all the light vanishes.

One moment, you’re lying against the bed, and the next Xavier manhandles you to your knees, one hand forcing your arms behind your back as he tugs you against him, the other pinning Rafayel to the mattress.

Rafayel’s the very picture of smug sin, the feral expression far more genuine, less threatening and much more amused as he nestles further into the pillows, one arm tucked lazily behind his head.

Cold fingers dance up your hips, and Rafayel drags your bare cunt over his thighs and onto his lap, a pleased sigh escaping his lips as you're pinned deliciously between his cock and Xavier's sculpted back.

"So needy, little bunny."

"Shut up. I'm not the one who's leaking."

Rafayel snorts, and before the two can start fighting again, you're leaning forward, a hand resting against Rafayel's abs as you cup his erection through his boxers. And when he moans you believe every myth, every fairytale singing the doom of sailors to a siren song, because every sound he gives you is addictive and sweet enough that you’d drown to hear it again.

Pulling Rafayel's cock out from his boxers, you’re stunned yet again by the slightly non-human beauty of it, heavy and thick in your palm, the flushed, ruddy tip already drooling precum as you thumb at it in vengeance. You know Xavier's watching from the way his own cock twitches against your back, hands digging bruises into your hips. Then, the warmth at your back disappears.

Instead, a pair of hands drag your ass up, forcing you into a deep arch as you scramble for purchase against Rafayel’s thigh and the bed below.

“Closer.” Xavier’s hand laces into your hair as he pushes your head down, forcing your mouth to nuzzle against the base of Rafayel's cock.

The movement pulls a gasp from both of you, your hot breath teasing the sensitive skin of Rafayel's shaft and forcing a shudder from his entire body.

Seeing the two of you completely at his mercy does terrible, horrible things to Xavier, and his fingers dig bruises into your hips as it takes him everything not to forgo the competition and fuck you right there.

"Good girl,” he hums, voice trembling as his grip tightens against your hair, giving you a harsh glare when you whine and squirm in his hold. "Now open."

You can't bring yourself to say no, not when the sight of Rafayel's eyes rolling back the second you do makes your stomach clench. His cock twitches against you as you lick at the copious amounts of cum leaking from his tip, then obediently wrap your lips around him.

With a smile that would have you shaking, Xavier leans down, barely able to continue guiding your head as he’s entranced with the mess between your legs, licking up the slick dripping down your thighs as he sucks against the delicate flesh, marking right over the sensitive bruises Rafayel had only just left behind.

“This- hah-” Rafayel curses under his breath, the single word breaking off into a moan, the sound muffled by his palm as his chest heaves. “This is hardly fair.”

But his complaints feel half-hearted, not with the way he’s already rutting into your mouth, Xavier’s iron grip keeping you in place as Rafayel thrusts himself into your mouth in one breath. You yield pathetically quick, flattening your tongue against the slick underside of his cock, another stream of pre-cum flooding your mouth as you nearly choke on it all, unable to pull off to even take a breath as Xavier guides your head up and down in a steady rhythm that has Rafayel falling apart.

It’s cruel, but you can't help each pathetic moan that gets muffed onto Rafayel’s cock, the vibrations forcing his back to arch off the bed, head rolling back as it thuds against the pillows, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps in shallow breaths.

You almost wish he would let you see his eyes, but then you'd miss the view of his chest, every muscle tight and twitching under his skin, the mesmerizing sight now blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You can't resist reaching up, dragging your nails down his abs, watching his body jerk against every new line of red.

"Please,” you're not sure if the broken whimper belonged to Rafayel or yourself. “Please, I can't wait anymore, wanna feel you— fuck— wanna fill you up again, please let me cum." It's like just the very thought has Rafayel keening, his hips jerking up into your hot mouth with reckless abandon as Xavier forces your spine up into a deeper arch.

You're nearly bent in half, the new angle leaving no part of you hidden from Xavier's hungry gaze as he watches you practically drool over Rafayel’s cock, lips meeting his pelvis as he breaches your throat.

Xavier’s going to win. He needs to win.

The thought makes him frantic, tongue fucking past the tight resistance of your cunt, his hand sliding up to tease at your clit. He won't be the one to finish first, not this time. Not when he's wanted nothing more than to feel your cunt gushing around him ever since Rafayel woke him up, ever since the two of you had the audacity to start this without him.

Rafayel can’t last much longer, especially not when you bring one shaking hand down to massage his swollen balls, hardly in control of your own movements as you feel dizzy on the addictive combination from the lack of oxygen and pleasure as Xavier begins to eat you out like a man starved.

The room’s filled with the sounds of each slick, messy movement, whimpers from the man beneath you and breathless pleas from the one behind, bed rattling with every thrust.

And yet you’re still so painfully empty. So, so, empty as your cunt flutters around Xavier’s tongue before he relents to kiss your clit once more, dragging a dissatisfied whine from you as you fight yourself off Rafayel’s cock.

"F-fuck me. Please," A sob, and you feel both Rafayel and Xavier shudder. "It’s not enough. Want your cocks inside me, wanna cum on it. Need it, please-"

Oh, and when you beg like that, they should have known they never would have stood a chance.

"Shit."

"Ah, please-"

It's a blur. A rush of hands, of pleasure and pain, all of it colliding and dragging you to the edge. The room spins, the ceiling above you falling until the familiar, comforting feeling of slick muscle embraces you, grounding you as you focus on the erratic heartbeat between each ragged exhale.

You're still sandwiched between them, lying on Rafayel as Xavier's weight drapes across your back, head propped up on the former's chest as you stare blearily at his silver pendant, unable to move. You're not even sure if you can, not with the way Xavier's still gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading you open as he forces one leg higher up.

Then, the blunt head of his cock grinds between your folds.

Xavier’s pressing his forehead against your back, wrapping his arms around you before biting into the crook of your neck. "You mean it? You’ll let us come inside again?"

Rafayel laughs, a raspy sound still raw from his orgasm. "Well, we both lost. Now what, bunny? We can't just leave her like this, poor thing is trembling."

"Mhm,” Xavier forces you up, “We both fuck her then."

His words only make you whimper, body jerking uselessly against Xavier's grip. His hands lift you as Rafayel flips you around so you're now facing the blond, flinching violently as his cock brushes your swollen clit, any semblance of protest quelled as Xavier pulls you into another messy kiss.

It’s demanding, Xavier mumbling achingly sweet praises into your open mouth as he begins to press you down, faster, harsher, forcing you onto Rafayel’s lap in a reverse cowgirl as you slide down slowly, taking inch by inch of Rafayel’s throbbing cock. There’s hardly any blue left in Xavier’s blow-out pupils, too mesmerized by the slick mess you’re gushing down their thighs. And just when you begin to squirm, impatient and desperate, Xavier slows their pace even more.

"Shhh, we need to make sure you'll be able to take both of us."

Rafayel's hand is wrapped around your waist, thumb rubbing small circles into your stomach, and if it weren't for Xavier's arms locked around you, holding you upright, you would have collapsed the second Rafayel pressed into the spot his fingers had found.

"Look at you," he purrs, a low sound that has you gasping. "So pretty when you’re needy. Can you feel me?"

It's hard not to. Everywhere feels warm, and every slow thrust, no matter how gentle, has a small burst of ecstasy building in your stomach, a wave crashing higher and higher as the two of them slowly fuck you full. Just as you’re nearly seated all the way onto Rafayel’s length, Xavier’s palms come up to the back of your knees, folding them up and forcing you backward until you’re practically lying prone atop of Rafayel.

Your head lolls uselessly against Rafayel's neck, gasping at the force of the new position, and you're not sure if it's the tears in your eyes or the overwhelming pressure against your walls as they stretch around his cock that's making the world so blurry. Xavier soon follows you down, pressing you closer into Rafayel’s chest as his lips trail your jaw, your neck, your sucking against every sensitive spot behind your ears until you're distracted from the pain.

"You're doing so good, princess. Just a little more."

The sudden onslaught of pressure of both of you atop him has Rafayel flinching, and he hisses out a pained moan, hips jerking up into the slick heat of your pussy, and it's only Xavier's grip that keeps the two of you from slipping off.

"Hah- hurry up-" Rafayel's eyes are glassy, his head tipped back and face twisted in pleasure.

Strings of incoherent pleas are whispered against your ear, Rafayel marking up the left side of your neck while Xavier’s still busy with the right, that is, until Xavier switches sides, biting right over Rafayel’s marks until he’s pulled up into a desperate kiss.

The wet sounds of their lips are filthy and obscene, each hot breath and moan brushing past your ear as you writhe, pressed between them. Rafayel's cock is already swelling, twitching against the fluttering walls of your pussy, unwilling to fully pull out, settling to just grinding up in slow, cruel thrusts before something in him snaps and he switches to pounding against your abused walls.

Every time you think you’ll finally come Rafayel switches pace, the obscene slap of skin on skin muffled only by your sobs and their kissing.

You’re close, so so fucking close you feel your muscles begin to shake. Xavier only pushes you down further, every angle a new cruelty, smothering you between them, rendering you unable to do anything but take it.

Again, Rafayel slows, and you slur curses down at him as your thighs tremble from overstimulation, shaking violently until you feel something grab your calf. Xavier massages the quivering muscle, gentle until he’s suddenly pressing your knee higher and higher, going until it’s pinned to the mattress up against your head.

And now Rafayel is hitting impossibly deeper, abusing your poor g-spot with each thrust.

Xavier kisses your ankle, then calf, making his way up your leg until he can nip at your inner thighs now folded over his shoulder. And then you feel the pressure of his cock at your already full entrance. Xavier’s hand dips down between your bodies, trying to bully himself in alongside Rafayel, but his cock slides past your navel, slick and covered in your combined cum.

"No, no no, not gonna fit- ah- Xavier!"

Your words break off into a wail as he tries again, grinding closer so you’re tightly cradled between the two, Xavier leaning fully atop you both. A snarl grits through his jaw when his cock slips past again, readjusting you so your legs fall apart wider, the burn in your thighs turning delicious and overwhelming, pussy weeping around Rafayel’s cock as Xavier’s swollen, leaking head bumps against your clit.

Xavier watches the mess, every thrust and messy squirt of cum, brows furrowed and flushed a deep red, as he whines into your shoulder, "Please- can't stop- please let me fuck you too, you'll look so pretty with both of us filling you up, taking us so good- don’t make me stop."

He’s reduced to babbling against your neck, biting down hard enough to bleed when your cunt finally yields to him too, cockhead bumping into Rafayel’s as he slowly pushes in inch and inch, trembling from the combined pleasure of your walls and the violent throbbing of every vein now grinding together.

It's too much, it’s not enough, the stretch and the friction and the pressure leaving you fucked stupid, hands scrambling for purchase. Rafayel grunts when your nails drag across his thighs, his own hands coming to latch onto your wrists, pinning them above his head, forcing you motionless between them.

You can do nothing but sob, tears streaming down your face as your entire body convulses. And when they finally, finally bottom out together, the world goes white.

"Shh, you're alright," Rafayel soothes, although his voice is trembling, the sound broken as he tries to catch his breath. "Doing so well for us, cutie, so perfect."

Xavier growls, his hands grabbing the headboard. He's barely holding on, not with the way Rafayel's cock twitches against his own, your hot walls clenched tightly around the two of them as you beg.

"Please, can't- too much, more, I need-"

There's a broken sob, and then Xavier’s slamming his hips forward, fucking into you with a brutality he usually saves for Rafayel, the force sending the three of you rocking against the mattress, headboard splintering under the strength of his grip. The other leaves to thumb at your nipples, lips following suit as he rambles, drunk off your pussy, "These would look s'pretty filled, even more sensitive. Bet you'd let us milk you, fill you up even more."

"And here, you'll feel us here too, won't you?" A hand moves lower- whose you no longer are coherent enough to care- brushing over the swell of your abdomen, the slight bulge appearing and disappearing where both of them are thrusting violently into you. "Be a waste not to. Imagine it, a painted mess filled with us.”

And you are. You can't think about anything else, not with the way they're stuffing you full— every time Rafayel's cock would settle near your g-spot Xavier’s would ram back in, forcing the former up against your cervix before pulling out entirely, repeating the vicious rhythm as the pain bled into pleasure.

Tears stream down the side of your face, room spinning into dizziness until all that remains are the burning trails of their touch, the only things keeping you grounded.

Rafayel's sucking into your shoulder, biting the sweat-slicked flesh, and you can feel his hips begin to stutter underneath you, already reaching his high despite Xavier still pounding into you with the same intensity, desperate to catch up.

The moment Xavier feels Rafayel's release, it's over. Your back arches up against him, convulsing against their hold, your abused walls clenching down so tightly that you’re practically begging for them to come inside, sucking them in deeper and deeper until it’s impossible for them not to follow.

It's a violent orgasm, hot squirt of your cum drenching Xavier’s abs, the intensity of it causing Rafayel’s vision to white out too, unable to hear the desperate sounds of your moans, not when his blood is rushing past his ears.

Then, the world comes crashing back.

Rafayel’s panting, still thrusting weakly into the slick, tight heat as he emptied himself inside you, the sheer overload of it gushing down your legs and onto the sheets.

"Ah- Xavier," you whine, the sound muffled into his chest as Xavier continues to chase after his high, too lost in his late orgasm to pull out.

The overstimulation is torture, your body twitching and trembling with every sloppy thrust. The moment he finally pulls out, the mess follows, thick, white rivets leaking down your thighs, the sheer volume near damn concerning had you the capacity to focus on it.

Rafayel laughs, fingers swirling through the cum as though painting your thighs, "That's not going to be easy to clean up."

"S'gonna look pretty. Messy. Full." Xavier murmurs, still pinning the both of you beneath him as he collapses in exhaustion, fingers dancing over the small swell in your stomach. Pressing lightly, he watches in fascination as their mixed cum gushes out faster, and you whimper, gripping his wrists to stop before they get any more ideas.

You're not sure what's worse, the fact that they're both still hard and the way they're looking at you, or the fact that their words have your exhausted body already trying to recover, a shiver running through your sore muscles as the room's cool air brushes over the slick, sticky mess between your thighs.

"You're both so disgusting," you groan, the words coming out slurred and barely audible.

"You love it."

"Yeah," Xavier's agreement is soft and almost hesitant. "You love us."

"Yes, I love both of you. Now get the fuck off of me." A shove, your shaking arm barely affecting Xavier as he finally relents, a small smile on his lips as he rolls the three of you down into the bed, resting on your sides.

The muscles in your thighs scream in relief as they’re finally placed down, every inch of your body sore and marked up in one way or another, every visible bruise and bite getting pampered in faux apologies by the two men snuggling up next to you.

It’s a tangle of limbs, Xavier already claiming your chest again as he nuzzles into your breasts while Rafayel simply curls himself around your back. A hand there, an arm there, and a little more muffled bickering. Yet you all fit together, and sleep comes easy now.

And the nightmares never return.

#love and deepspace #rafayel x you x xavier #love and deepspace x reader #lnds smut #l&ds smut #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #lnds rafayel #l&ds rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel smut #xavier smut #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #poisonwrites

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charlesoberonn · 1 year ago

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Phineas and Ferb episode idea: After Candace shows her photos of all of her brothers’ creations, Linda thinks that her daughter is a talented graphic artist and signs her up for a competition. Candace is frustrated and about to tell her mom the truth but then Jeremy shows up and he’s like “Wow, Candace, I didn’t know you were a graphic designer. That’s so cool. Btw, my little sister is also gonna be at the graphic design competition.”

Long story short, Candace asks her brothers to help her become a graphic artist for real so she could beat Suzie.

Meanwhile, Doofenshmirtz has gotten tired of designing -Inators so he designed the Comes-Up-With-Inators-Inator to design them for him. The Inator’s creation are a hit among other Evil Scientists who buy them in droves. Doofenshmirtz is then signed by Vanessa to an Evil Contracption Designing competition (held in the same building at the same time as the graphic design competition, of course).

Desperate, he asks Perry the Platypus to help him get his mojo back so he could design -Inators again.

Cue musical montage of Doof and Candace training to learn/relearn their respective art form.

It’s the competition(s). Candace is a nervous wreck, but Jeremy believes in her. Doof is all self-assured and ego-boosted by everyone thinking he’ll win, but then he sees his Comes-Up-With-Inators-Inator (who looks like a robotic him) also signed up for the competition.

While getting ready for the competition, Perry is accidentally almost spotted by Phineas and Ferb. He sneaks behind the curtain to the behind the scenes. That’s when he discovers that the goal of the competition is to design a doomsday weapon. Nervous, he swaps the cards with those of the graphic design competition.

The competition begins. The graphic artists are assigned to design a doomsday weapon while the Evil Scientists are assigned to design a cool band poster.

The scientists are baffled, but they do their best. The Comes-Up-With-Inators-Inator is stuck because it’s physically incapable of drawing anything but Inators.

Meanwhile in the graphic design competition Candace does her best but her brain goes blank. Suzie meanwhile is trying to sabotage her by switching her card back with the card from the other tournament. Unfortunately it’s the card of the Comes-Up-With-Inators-Inator, who now goes to task designing a Doomsday weapon.

The competition is finished. Candace’s work is mediocre, but she wins by technicality for being the only one who drew the correct thing.

Meanwhile at the Evil Scientists competition, the scientists all drew terrible posters except Doof whose poster is beautiful. He’s about to be declared the winner but then the Comes-Up-With-Inators-Inator reveals what it’s been working on, a doomsday machine. Everyone panics, and Perry the Platypus tries to stop the machine, but fails. Then the machine ticks down to 0, and nothing happens.

Turns out the Comes-Up-With-Inators-Inator is terrible at coming up with machines. All of its Inators don’t work. Which unfortunately for Doof results in all of his previously happy customers showing up to complain because their Inators didn’t work either. He asks Perry to help him again, but Perry is already gone.

“There you are, Perry.” “Curse you, Perry the Platypus!”

Despite winning, Candace feels hollow because she only won by technicality and all of the other designers were much better than her. She feels like a fraud. But then Jeremy shows up and asks to buy the rights for her poster, because he thinks it’s really cool. Candace is happy.

The End.

#phineas and ferb #charles writes

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hhoonii · 4 months ago

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𑈴 ❀ ͙𑱢 ♡ཽ⃕ ︎ ︎EVERYDAY RELATIONSHIP THINGS WITH ENHYPEN (HYUNG LINE)

pairing: hyung line!enhypen x reader, genre: fluff, non idol! au, warnings: mentions of food, kissing

— heeseung

likes giving kisses to catch you off guard. teases you because he thinks you’re too cute. gets flustered when he sees you wearing his clothes. sends you memes he found on twitter. lets you rest on his arm, even when it starts feeling numb after a while. never wants you to carry anything heavy, and if he sees you trying to he’ll take it right out of your hands. always asks you to pick what pictures he should post (you know best ><). “i think i’d fall in love with you in every lifetime”.

— jay

makes you a cup of coffee every morning, just the way you like it. writes letters to you saying how much he loves you. hates aegyo but would do it if you asked (he’s so down bad for you LMAO). tip toes when you’re sleeping to not wake you up. likes drying your hair after you shower. if you lost a game, your punishment would be a shower of kisses from him. yaps about random things that fascinate him while you lay in his lap. “you turned my world upside down, but i like it that way”.

— jake

leaves little notes around the house for you. likes cuddling and kissing in bed on sunday mornings. gets oddly competitive when playing board games with you. tells you random science fun facts. likes painting your nails. insists you get the last piece of food when sharing. spams “i love you” over text when you’re away from each other. loves to keep his hand on your waist. plays with your hair and makes a mustache with it. “we’re fated to be together, don’t you think?”.

— sunghoon

gets pouty for no reason and you find it adorable. likes to carry you princess style. remembers even the littlest things about you. likes making inside jokes only you two understand. asks you to check his fit before leaving for work. comforts you with the warmest hugs. makes you paper rings using straw wrappers whenever you go to restaurants. saved you as his number one emergency contact and makes sure you saved him as your number one too. his ears always turn red after kissing you. “you’re mine and i’m yours”.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months ago

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southern rivalries

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, cheerleader!reader, football player!rafe, college football but i dont know anything so please excuse any wrong details, rivals to lovers, p in v sex, protected sex to unprotected sex lol, sixty nine, male and female receiving oral, male receiving handjob, brief injury but no one is seriously hurt

words: 2.3k

“they're not just a different school.” steffie says, placing her hands down on the table as her tone turns way too serious for the subject. “they're our rivals, our arch nemeses. the war has torn families apart.”

“it's football.” you say plainly. “college. football.”

“i can tell you're new here.” steffies friend tiffy agrees (you've always wondered if they purposely chose their nicknames to rhyme considering they seem attached at the hip). “you just don't get it. football is life here in the south.”

“and north carolina are our rivals. even though we are north carolina.” you are trying to wrap your head around the culture at your new school.

“kind of but also, not at all.” tiffy says while steffie finishes the sentiment for her. “we are nc state. the wolf pack. our rivals are unc tar heels.”

“tar heels is a dumb name.” you snort.

“exactly!” steffie agrees.

the conversation shifts, but it never goes to far from football, too far from the rivalry that seems to extend to everything, from other sports to academics.

“did you cheer in high school?” steffie asks.

“yeah.” you nod. “well, not sideline because it conflicted with volleyball. i did competitive though.”

“you should try out for our sideline team. we need more numbers and…” her voice turns to a whisper like she's sharing a deep, dark secret. “my sister is the team captain. you'll definitely get on the squad if i put in a good word for you.”

-- two months later --

“wolf!” you shout with your fellow cheerleaders, listening to the crowd scream back.

“pack!”

“wolf!” you yell again before dropping your poms, quickly learning that most of the girls never did competitive cheer and aren't the best tumblers, leaving you to be the one flipping across the sidelines to the cheers of fans.

you wave and kick and cheer, just happy to have something to do on friday nights. you feel a little guilty for beating out girls that are a lot more passionate about football and your college, but you try your best to put it past you.

you get back in the line, yelling out cheers and keeping your cheeks stretched wide with a smile, occasionally glancing at the clock to see how much longer until your halftime routine (as well as the score… a little bit.)

the seconds are ticking down and you're about to raise your poms again to shake the red and white colors in the air, when you suddenly feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn, you're hit in the back.

“ahhh!” you scream out and fall forward, the football player falling with you as the ball falls from his hands.

“shit.” he groans and quickly rolls off of you. “are you okay?”

you roll over onto your back, coughing and trying to suck in oxygen after the air was knocked out of your lungs.

you realize quickly that the football player now moved to hover over top of you is not one of your own with his powder blue jersey and white helmet.

“im-” you take another deep suck of breath, but this time not in recovery as you see his face through the face mask, blue eyes looking into yours and the most handsome face you've ever seen.

“im fine.” you manage to say before you're surrounded by a crowd, the wolfpack players pulling the opposing player away and your fellow cheerleaders helping you back up.

steffie pushes strands of hair out of your face, getting you back to proper uniform while tiffy shoves your fallen poms back into your grip.

“ew.” tiffy says, wiping the back of your uniform like the tar heel player left a literal stain on you.

“and our cheerleader is back and up on her feet! let's give it up for her as number 19 rafe cameron re-enters the field after their clash.”

you wave your hand in the air as the crowd claps for you, their attention briefly away from the field, but there's only one thing on your mind. rafe cameron.

-- two hours later --

“what are you doing?” steffie yells, snatching your phone from your hand and making you quickly regret agreeing to be her and tiffies third roommate.

“don't you know fraternization is not allowed with tar heels?”

“im not doing anything!” you grab your phone back out of her hand, still opened up to his instagram page. “simply looking at the guy who hit me, okay? i was just curious.”

“mhm.” steffie gives you a glaring look that clearly says she doesn't believe you.

you sigh softly and close out of the account, not that there's many posts to look at anyways, and only a few not on the football field with his helmet off and structured face in full view.

“let's go out.” you say quickly.

“after we lost the game?” steffie shakes her head.

“alright, whatever.” you get up to get dressed in something cute, not willing to let the football teams loss hold you back from living your life, and admittedly you need a breath of fresh air away from cheer or football or your dorm mates.

you're at a club you've never been to before, not one of the ones that plasters wolfpack pride posters to all of their walls and plays the red and white anthem like it's a kesha song.

you show the bouncer your id and step into the music filled room, quickly ordering yourself a drink when you hear loud whooping from a different section.

you look over and find a group of men that you quickly realize despite the clubs colorful lighting are wearing that recognizable baby blue.

“of course.” you groan, just happening to stumble into the same bar as the unc players while you're trying to not think about football or even college despite all your classes being easy entry level.

you're about to pay your tab and leave when a deep, familiar voice speaks from jarringly close.

“another drink of whatever the lady is having.”

“i- no, no.” you shake your head, only briefly glancing at him. rafe. “im fine.”

“you're that cheerleader, aren't you?” he leans his elbow against the table, and the bartender makes you a drink and places it down in front of you despite your attempted disapproval.

“yeah.” you nod. “not that… into all of this i guess.” you shrug, hand waving at the logo on his shirt. “i didn't know y'all came here to celebrate.”

“ah.” he nods. “and your name?”

you realize quickly that you know far too much about him when all he knows is that he accidentally hit you, and that you cheer for his rival team.

“y/n.” you reply, taking a sip of your drink, actually tasting it this time instead of quickly gulping it down like you did the first time.

“im rafe.” he reaches his hand out and you shake it, wondering if the invisible blue stain is somehow going to be picked up on by steffie and tiffy when you eventually make it back to your dorm.

“i never got to properly apologize. i did look for you after the game. i guess it was fate that brought you here tonight.” rafe squeezes your hand, and you quickly realize it's still held in his grip. “im sorry.”

“im not supposed to-” you quickly take your hand out of his grasp. “im not supposed to be talking to you. sorry.”

“ah.” he says again. “that pesty no fraternization rule. im not supposed to be talking to you either.”

there's a pause, a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of the tension brewing between the two of you.

“but that's not going to stop me from asking you back to my hotel room.”

the words barely leave his lips before your mouth is on his.

it's a mess of hands, furiously grabbing and tugging at clothes until you're both down to just your undergarments.

“shit.” you laugh, noticing that even rafes underwear is carolina blue.

“team issued.” he clarifies quickly as he pulls you down with him as he falls back onto the bed. your lips press against his as you straddle his hips.

you press your crotch down over his, feeling the way he's already pressing up against your panties.

“god, let me get my mouth on you.” you groan, sinking down to lick and kiss at the grooves of his chest and abs, trying to commit the taste of his skin to memory, not sure if you'll ever have this chance again.

you reach his blue boxers and press your lips against the clear outline of his hard cock, wetting the fabric with your spit before you're sick of the barrier and lean back only to pull the underwear down his thighs.

“fuck.” rafe moans out when your mouth is immediately back on his cock, this time able to put his length into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, quickly setting a rhythm as you try to coax your throat to allow him deeper.

“y/n.” rafe tugs on your hair, and you groan when you're forced to pull away.

“what?” you snap.

“get your ass up here.”

you move quickly, shucking off your panties and moving so your pussy is hovering over rafes face. he looks up at you for a brief second, just to take a breath and stare into your glistening cunt, before his hands are pulling your hips down and your clit onto his awaiting mouth.

you take his cock in your hand, pressing open mouth kisses and licks all over, not sure how well you can blow him when your moans are loud and filling the hotel room.

rafe mumbles something that you can't might make out, but it may be “delicious.” as his mouth devours your pussy, tongue swiping through your folds obsequiously, paying attention to every moan of yours and what causes your pussy to clench.

“fuck.” you groan, hand moving to take over for your mouth as your jaw drops open, stroking up and down his length that makes your cunt squeeze again thinking about having inside you.

rafe pushes your hips away, and before you can argue or control your body, he uses his strong football muscles to flip you into your back and rest your head against the hotel rooms fluffy pillows.

“i need you.” rafe says, reaching towards his wallet on the nightstand and pulling out a condom, tearing it before sinking the rubber over his length.

“fuck yes.” you moan out. who knew exactly what you needed to feel better was to hookup with the player on the opposing team, the rule breaking only making things even more exciting.

rafe grabs your leg and pulls it over his hip before lining up with your entrance. he sinks forward slowly, eyes on your face in case you show any sign of pain.

“you're so fucking warm.” rafe moans out, dropping to kiss you sloppily as his hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you.

he gives you both a minute to adjust before hes hovering over you, strong arms holding himself up as he pounds into you.

“fuck!” you squeal out, one hand gripping the bed sheets while the other reaches up to the headboard, trying to find some stability while he wrecks your pussy.

you hope rafe won't last too long because you can already feel your high building despite not wanting it to be over anytime soon.

one time certainly won't be enough to satisfy you, especially not as you look up at rafes face, still gorgeous and chiseled even as his jaw is slackened as he fucks you with pure pleasure and bliss in his eyes.

“you-” you gasp out. “you feel amazing. so good.”

“damn right i do.” rafe smiles a cocky grin down at you as he somehow manages to speed up even more. “filling you perfectly. this pussy is mine.”

you try (and fail) to not let the words go to your head.

you even briefly think of what your fellow cheerleaders would think if they knew what you were doing right now, how tiffy and steffie would react if they knew just how much that unseen blue has been smeared across your naked body, how much of it is dripping from your cunt.

“im-im not far.” rafe warns, ignoring the cramp in his throwing arm to warn you.

“ffff-” you hold back the urge to curse again as your mind spins. “condom off, please. i need you to cum in me.”

rafe certainly isn't going to argue, even though it might not be the smartest idea. he kneels between your legs, one hand coming to massage your clit while the other pulls the condom off.

rafe strokes himself once before pushing back inside of you, keeping one hand on your clit as your pleasure grows, hips seeming to raise higher and higher off the bed the closer your high gets.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say seconds before he bursts, warm spurts of cum filling your insides, thankfully not being wasted being trapped inside rubber.

the warm filled sensation causes you to tip over the edge too, body shaking as rafe collapses over you, rubbing your clit with his cock lodged inside of you until both your highs have worn out, your pussy sucking and clenching out every bit of cum he has to give.

“god.” rafe rolls off of you and onto his back. “you are fucking amazing.”

“you did most of the work.” you giggle.

“you know.” rafe says as he pulls you into his chest. “you play us at home in three weeks.”

“mmm.” you lift your head up and press a kiss against his jaw before you bare your teeth and nip at his skin. “perfect time for us to get revenge.”

“keep that up and i might just have to tackle you again next game.” rafe laughs, but you just flip over so you're on top of him, straddling his hips as his cock starts to grow again.

“you wouldn't dare.”

“if it gets you in my bed all night then i might.”

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requiemforthepoets · 3 months ago

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overcooked 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: play overcooked they said, it’ll be fun they said.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i just can’t help write about the idea lando playing overcooked, so i did. hope you’ll enjoy this! :)

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1k

WARNINGS: typos and ferrari strategy meme

Lando’s twitch stream was in full swing, and the chat was buzzing as you settled beside him, controller in hand.

“Alright, babe, let’s see how well we work together,” Lando teased, flashing you that signature grin. You rolled your eyes, already sensing that this game of overcooked might be more than what you bargained for.

You both dove into the first level, the kitchen chaos unfolding on the screen as you both tried to chop, cook, and serve orders with as much coordination as two people shared a life, but perhaps not a kitchen.

“Lando, the onions! You missed the onions!” You shouted, pointing at the screen as the virtual kitchen teetered on the brink of disaster.

“Relax, I’ve got this!” Lando replied, but his character was already running into walls, the pot burning on the stove. You could feel the frustration bubbling up, your competitive nature kicking into high gear.

You took charge of the kitchen, barking orders like a seasoned chef, while Lando scrambled to keep up. “Chop the onions faster, Lando!” You yelled as the kitchen timer ticked down. Lando, flustered, accidentally tossed the onions into the trash instead of the pot.

“Oops,” he said, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Oops?” You shot back, incredulous. “Lando, we’re running a restaurant, not a garbage disposal service!” The twitch chat exploded with laughter, and Lando couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trying to manage orders, avoid fires, and stop Lando from accidentally throwing perfectly good ingredients into the trash, you both managed to complete the level. The result? Two stars. You stared at the screen, eyes narrowing.

“Unacceptable.” You muttered, “this is unacceptable!” You declared, your voice suddenly dropping into a perfect Gordon Ramsay impression.

“Oh look, baby we got two stars! That’s not bad!” Lando said excitedly as he pointed on the screen.

“Not that bad? Are you kidding me, Lando?” You snapped, fully embodying the spirit of Gordon Ramsay. “We were all over the place! No communcation, no strategy. Honestly, what was that—your best effort? Do you want to serve that to people? Do you?!”

Your sudden intensity caught Lando off guard, but before he could say anything, you were now pacing back and forth in front of him. But before he could say anything, you were off on a tirade, launching into an elaborate explanation of your strategy. You gestured wildly, pointing at the screen, completely absorbed in your monologue.

“Okay, listen. First, you need to stay on your side of the kitchen. I’ll handle the chopping and the prep work—because clearly, you’re incapable of doing both without setting something on fire. We need to streamline the workflow. I’ll chop, you’ll cook, and we both plate. But!” You pointed at him, your expression deadly serious, “no more improvisation. We need to stick to the plan. No more running around like a headless chicken.“

Lando blinked and nodded at you, clearly taken aback by your sudden switch into full-on chef mode. He opened his mouth to respond but then quickly shut it, his eyes darting between you and the camera that was still live streaming every second of your tirade. The chat was exploding with messages, his fans throughly entertained by your unintentional transformation into a culinary dictator, and Lando knows better than to interrupt you when you’re in the zone.

“And another thing,” you continued, pointing to the screen like you were delivering the world’s most important TED talk. “Timing and synchronization is crucial. We need to strategize and work like a well-oiled machine, not a circus act, okay? I handle the chopping, you’ll cook, and we both plate. We’ll divide and conquer!”

The chat exploded, the fans losing it as she continued, hands flying everywhere in wild gestures. Meanwhile, Lando was trying his hardest not to crack up, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watched her go on.

“Babe…baby,” Lando finally managed to interject, struggling to keep a straight face. “You realize we’re live, right?”

You froze, eyes widening as you remembered the twitch stream, the hundred of his fans who had just witnessed your unhinged rant. Slowly, you turned to the camera, a sheepish grin spreading across your face.

“Oh…hi, chat,” you said, your voice suddenly much softer, the intensity draining from your expression. “I’m sorry for that. That was not very demure, very cutesy, and very mindful of me.”

Lando burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “I think you’ve been watching too much Hell’s Kitchen, love. Gordon Ramsay has become your new personality,” he teased, pulling you back down and sat you on his lap. You groaned, burying your face on his neck, as he put an arm around your waist, but even you couldn’t help laugh at yourself.

“Come on, let’s get you that three stars.” Lando said as he chuckled again. You settled down beside him and gave you a kiss on your temple.

The rest of the stream was just as chaotic as when you both started playing the game, filled with rage, frustration, and hilarious uncoordination. Orders were still missed, pots were still burning, and Lando’s character even managed to fall off the kitchen at one point, but you were both too busy laughing to care. By the end of the game, you hadn’t earned a single three-star rating that you had intentionally wanted, but the stream had been a massive hit, and the chat was flooded with memes of your intense strategy session.

As Lando ended the stream, he leaned over and kissed you on the lips, still chuckling. “We may not be the best team in overcooked, but I think we’re the most entertaining,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips as you rested your head ok his shoulder. “Yeah, well, next time we’re getting three stars. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“Deal.” lando replied, wrapping an arm around you as you both relaxed, your own competitive sprit finally at peace—for now. “And can I say, it really turned me on when you started yapping.” His eyes wiggling, suggesting something that you knew fully well as you slapped him playfully on the chest.

“Oh shut up you.” You both laughed.

The kitchen might have been a disaster, but at least your relationship had survived the heat—well, barely.

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monstersholygrail · 2 months ago

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Imagine an entire bird colony of all male Bird Hybrids where you are their dancing instructor.

Every bird in the colony is absolutely feral over you. They desire you so much to the point where they started taking your class to learn how to woo possible mates but now they only wanna use what they learn on you.

They’ll do the steps wrong on purpose so that they can feel your soft hands on them when you correct it. Wishing you’d slip your hands further down till your thick fingers wrap around their aching cocks. You just smell so good and consume all their senses. Their adorable chirps fill the air whenever you give them any attention, their minds spinning with you.

Sometimes they’ll act like they aren’t getting it no matter what. You all know what’s going on and you’re not too shy to admit you love the attention they give you back. Your panties gushing with arousal as their eyes are trained on your every move.

So you tease them further. Inviting them to grab your hips and feel the way you move into the step, grinding against them every now and then. Loving the way their faces always drop, staring down at your wide hips and round bottom. Their feathers ruffling and wings flapping as they get more turned on. They try not to make it obvious but it makes you so hot to see how deeply you affect them.

By the end of every class all the bird hybrid’s cocks are rock hard and they’re in desperate need of you. They try anything they can think of to get you to stay after class with them. Showering you in affection they now want to drown in you in unimaginable pleasure. Stuffing your tight cunt over and over again with their cocks. Filling you up with all their cum till your belly bulges with it.

You always look so pretty underneath them. Especially as a handful of them always seemed to get you to agree to stay after. One after the other they take you hard, each of them coming inside of you until you’re all fucked out and cum is leaking into a puddle between your thick thighs. Of course they take the best care of you after.

After months of this you had realized that this colony was the only one you were teaching. And the bird hybrids make sure to keep it that way as they fill up all your available slots. Anyone can be competition and they don’t want your attention on another colony. Not that it ever would. You’re more than happy with the affection they constantly show you.

You always have more mating gifts than you know what to do with. Sometimes they give you pretty pebbles or other brightly covered objects. Other times they give you adorable little twigs and materials for a nest you don’t have. But they wanna help take care of you anyway. Then some give you food, wanting to keep your plump body healthy by making sure you’re eating good.

But the feathers that fall off their wings throughout class are your favorite. You put them up on the walls for decoration. The bird hybrids preen whenever they see their feather on the wall, viewing it as their claim on you. They boast to the other birds but then others point out that their feather is up there too and they turn playful as they try and say their feather is longer or fluffier.

Eventually they go to you, thinking that if they can’t prove they’re the better mate through their feathers, they can see which one can make you cum harder. It takes hours for them to come to any sort of agreement as they each use their fingers, tongues, and cocks to make you explode around them long past till you’re seeing stars.

They come from a place of love above all. Wanting to please you, their mate, more than anything. They’d do whatever they could to make that happen as caring for you is what they enjoy most.

I will literally beg for asks about them!! They’ve been a brainrot for me just about all week now. I’d love to see others expand on them and the idea. Or even just to join in the freak out and gush about the fluffy guys together!

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eiightysixbaby · 5 months ago

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take a dip

pairing: lifeguard!eddie munson x bestfriend!fem!reader

word count: 4.3k (this was supposed to be a short little blurb lolz)

summary: eddie wants to get you in the water with him while you're alone at the community pool. he ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. reader doesn't know how to swim, eddie is a relentless menace, brief food mention, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie

“Get in the pool.”

“No!”

“Get. In. The pool.” Eddie's voice is deadpan, his expression flat. He holds out a hand, waiting for you to take it and let him guide you.

“It's cold! I'm going to freeze!” you whine, stomping your feet on the concrete like a toddler.

“Uuuuuuuuugh, you are impossible,” he groans, kicking off the wall and letting himself glide backwards, floating in the water.

He stops at the middle of the pool, going fully under the water before coming back up. He shakes his wild curls, blinking rapidly to get chlorine out of his eyes.

“Will you please come in? It's not even bad,” he begs, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

He'd been tasked with getting the community pool ready for opening day, and he's spent the last several hours doing just that. You had stopped by to bring him some food, and ever since you both finished eating, he'd been trying desperately to get you in the water with him. He's entirely unsure why you're being so stubborn.

“Eddie, come on, I don't want to. Can we just go back to your place?” you ask, fingers worrying at the hem of your shorts.

“We can go back to my place once you get in this damn water with me,” he retorts. You know he doesn't mean anything by it, but his relentless insistence makes your stomach churn. It's not even his fault, it's not like he knows your reasoning. You should've known that by coming here you were in for it.

You're silent, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you debate what to say next. Luckily, you don't have to speak before Eddie notices your discomfort.

“Woah, hey.” He swims back to the edge of the pool, resting his arms on the concrete. “What's wrong? If you really don't want to get in you don't have to, we can just leave.”

He reaches a wet hand out to squeeze your ankle, cocking his head to the side as he looks up at you.

“It's just...” you start, voice suddenly much quieter than it had been. “I don't... know how to swim.” It feels simultaneously amazing and embarrassing to get the words out into the open, for Eddie to know.

“What?” he asks, making you shrink into yourself. You sit down on the pavement, tucking your knees to your chest.

“Yeah, I know. It’s humiliating, okay?” you snap, defensive.

“No, no, no. Hold on,” he interjects, pushing himself up and out of the water. “How come I never knew this?” he asks softly, scooting to sit beside you.

“Well, it wasn’t something that ever really came up until you got the lifeguard gig. It was an easy topic to avoid.” You shrug, watching water drip from his body.

This was only Eddie’s second summer working at the pool, and the previous summer you’d managed to dodge the task of going swimming with excuses about carting the kids around to and from the arcade or the Wheeler’s or the mall; having to work; being on your period and not feeling like it.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to act like an asshole,” he tells you earnestly. “If you don’t want to get in the water, we won’t. I’m sorry,” he searches your face with soft eyes, remorseful.

You sigh, resting your forehead on your knees, hiding your face away. “It’s not even that I don’t want to get in. I’d love to get in the water with you,” you say, muffled. “But I’m scared.”

“I mean,” he starts, leaning back coolly, “you are sitting next to the best lifeguard in Hawkins, Indiana.”

You snort, looking up from your hiding spot. “Between you, Billy, and Heather? Not a tough competition, champ.”

He gasps, mock offended. “Rude!”

You turn pointedly to face him. “Billy’s always distractedly flirting with someone and definitely couldn’t care less if any of the residents in this town live or die. Heather is always busy gawking at Billy, and she hates getting her hair wet.”

He thinks about this. “Okay, fair point.”

You laugh, a sort of sad sound. “But!” He stands, extending a hand to encourage you to join him. “I am still a lifeguard. One that actually cares whether you live or die, and I’d very much like it to be the former.” He pulls you onto your feet. “We can take it super slow, heck, we don’t even have to actually teach you to swim tonight. We can just stand in the water, get you comfortable being in it.”

“Isn’t that… I don’t know. Silly?”

“Why would it be silly?” he asks simply. “The more you’re in water, the less scary it will be.”

You think this over, eyes flicking back and forth from the pool to your clasped hands. “I honestly want to, but I didn’t even bring a swimsuit,” you say finally, feeling a bit dejected.

“I mean, and don’t hit me when I say this—” Eddie begins, taking a step back with a smirk. “But you could just get in in your underwear.”

You feel your face heat wildly at his suggestion, feeling simultaneously nervous and intrigued by the thought of stripping to your bra and panties in front of your best friend. The intrigue surprises you a little bit, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Eddie—” you murmur, but he cuts you off.

“It’s no different than seeing you in a bikini. And I have seen you in one of those, at that car wash fundraiser for the cheer team in high school,” he says matter-of-factly, giving you no real reason to back out.

And truly, you don’t want to.

“Okay, fine,” you huff, playing up your reluctance. “Turn around,” you motion in a circle with your finger, and he rolls his eyes before turning his back to you.

You slip out of your sandals before peeling your shorts off, letting them pool around your ankles. Your shirt comes next, and you hoist it over your head before tossing it onto a lounge chair with your bottoms.

There’s a very subtle chill to the air, the full heat of summer not yet present. It kisses your skin, making goosebumps erupt all over.

“Okay, get in the water and close your eyes until I’m in,” you tell him.

“You do realize I’m going to have to look at you at some point?”

“I know! Just— not yet.”

“Fine.”

He lowers himself back into the water with a slight splash, covering his eyes with his hands. You giggle at the sight, feeling like you’re playing hide and seek and he’s counting.

Slowly, you step over to the pool’s edge, sitting down and letting your feet dip into the water. It’s cold, too fresh to have been heated by the sun, and it sends a shiver running up your body.

“Eddie, it’s really cold,” you whine, already knowing he’ll be having none of it.

“Yeah, ‘s why you have to just get all the way in in one go.” You hesitate, but as if he can read your mind, he goes on. “Your feet can touch here, nothing’s gonna happen. Promise.”

His eyes are still covered, and you bite back another giggle. You know you’re safe with him, and you swallow your nerves as you slip fully into the water. The level of depth keeps the waterline at the top of your chest, your head and shoulders remaining dry.

“Can I look now, your highness?”

“Shut up. Yes.”

He removes his hands, grinning at you. “Look at you! In the pool with me.”

You allow yourself to smile a little, too, although you feel silly for celebrating the mere fact that you’re standing in a pool.

The look on Eddie’s face doesn’t let you feel silly for very long. He’s practically got stars in his eyes. In fact, you can’t help but notice the way they seem to linger on your lips, trailing down to the soft hills of your breasts. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest.

He holds his hands out to you, and you take them, letting him walk backwards while you follow. He moves slowly into the deeper end, and your toes try their hardest to cling to the bottom of the pool the further you go. You’re about to back away, return to the shallow side, but he does damage control before you can run.

“C’mere,” he coaxes, pulling you close to him as he wraps his arms around you. “Put your legs around my waist.”

You oblige, albeit flustered, wrapping your limbs around his thin waist and letting your chests press together, your arms hanging loosely around his neck. You become acutely aware of the way your core rests barely exposed against the fabric of his swim trunks, and suddenly you feel like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of this portion of the world around you. You swear you hear a rather strangled breath leave him, and you wonder if this proximity is affecting him the way it seems to be affecting you.

You find yourself more enamored than ever with the tattoos littering his body, black ink scrawled into his pale skin. Your eyes trace constellation patterns between the freckles splattered on his torso, holding yourself back from reaching out to touch them.

In Eddie’s arms, you’re safe in the water, and your nerves ease as you try to shove down the butterflies that roam beneath your ribcage. It’s just Eddie, being close to Eddie isn’t anything new.

But being this close to Eddie while you’re both barely clothed, is.

He holds you easily; you’re weightless in the water, which allows him to maneuver fluidly. The water is still cold around you, but your body feels like it’s hot enough to start boiling it. Eddie’s fingers press into your thighs to keep you supported, and suddenly it’s the only sensation you can focus on.

“Still cold?” Eddie asks, and it makes you visibly startle.

“N-no, not really,” you choke out. If only he knew.

He raises a brow at your demeanor but says nothing more, and you wonder how long he’ll float around with you for. You wonder how long you can take it before you start clawing at him like a rabid animal.

Your lack of inhibition alarms you, your sudden hunger toward the man in front of you new and slightly terrifying. Eddie’s always been attractive, but in an objective way. In a way you never felt like you really needed to act on. You could admit that he was attractive and also remember that he was your best friend, and that trying to go any further than friendship would be moronic.

But right now, you think you’d let him swallow you whole.

You’ve zoned out, looking blankly at the illuminated blue of the pool, and when you focus back in you notice that Eddie is staring at you, unwavering.

“What?” you ask him, but it comes out as little more than a whisper.

“Would it be fucking crazy to kiss you right now?” he asks, his usual boisterous attitude gone. He’s nervous.

Your heart swells, battering against your ribs. “Maybe. But you should do it anyway.” You swallow hard, watching as his wild eyes search your face. You feel a peculiar sort of giddiness, like a child that's about to snatch a cookie from the jar when they know they aren’t supposed to.

You only hope this won't come back to bite you in the ass.

Everything seems to go quiet save for both of your shaky breaths, Eddie's hands curling into your half-wet hair as he presses your back against one wall of the pool. His lips meet yours so softly, encouraging your mouth to open and move with his.

Your brain feels like it's lagging, unable to catch up with what's happening. You would've expected this to be awkward, clumsy, embarrassing — but it's none of those things. His lips slot against yours like they were made to fit there, and you find yourself wondering why you never did this sooner.

He draws back, grinning wildly. You're sure your expression matches.

“I can't believe it took me so long to do that,” he admits, eyes eagerly searching your own.

They look especially dark now that the sun has set, yet something in them seems to sparkle.

“I was thinking the same thing,” you respond. He laughs and you join him, clinging tight to wet skin.

When the laughter subsides, you let him kiss you again, his tongue licking experimentally into your mouth. It makes you clutch him even tighter, deepening the kiss before he can think about pulling away; encouraging his tongue to test the waters further. You grind your core against him before you can register that you're doing it, pulling a throaty groan from him, and that's when you feel it. The outline of his hardening cock strains against his swim shorts, brushing up against you just right to create a delicious jolt of friction.

You pull back to look at him, grinding against him once more in hopes of eliciting more sounds from him. His eyes pinch shut, his mouth falling open in a curse. You can see the pink blush in his cheeks even in the fading light of day.

“Fuck, baby.” Baby, you think. That's new.

“Yeah?” you ask, taunting him just a little bit. “Does that feel good?”

“Fuck yes, god. Makin' me feel like a horny teenager,” he chuckles, a strained and breathy thing. You can tell he's trying hard to keep himself together.

But maybe you don't want him to.

You let your lips attach to his neck, wanting to see how far you can go before he gives in; before he can't hold back any longer.

He takes in a sharp breath when you begin sucking on his soft skin, aiming to leave a bruise in your mouth's wake. His head tips, further exposing his neck to you, and you move to cover more of the pale surface. His cock is fully hard now, or at least it feels like it, rubbing against your core as you continue to grind against him to the best of your ability.

“Shit, you're driving me crazy,” he says, digging his fingers into your hips.

“What're you gonna do about it?” you ask, challenging him in a moment of surging confidence.

His expression darkens, his index finger reaching beneath your chin and tilting it up, until you're looking at him. “Do you really want to do this?” he questions, arching a brow. His question holds a double meaning: Do you really want to try me? and Are you sure you want this, with me?

You're certain about both.

“Yes,” you breathe, barely audible. His lips are mere centimeters from yours, his finger still hooked under your chin. He stays like that for a moment, as if judging that you're sure, and once he seems to find his answer it's like something in him snaps. He lets go.

His lips press to yours, hot and urgent, his hands digging firm into your thighs. You swear every inch of skin he touches turns molten as his palms roam to squeeze fistfuls of your ass, new territory that sets you on fire. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, your mouth open as he licks into it with a hunger like no other. His teeth catch your bottom lip, tugging it as a whimper escapes your throat.

“You're so fucking gorgeous,” Eddie nearly growls, his voice wrecked, like simply saying the words makes him want to bust. “Need to have you, baby, let me have you.” His mouth is dipped close to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver throughout you.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, rolling your hips into him yet again. He groans, eyes falling closed and hands digging harder into your skin. Like he's bracing himself.

When his eyes open again, he takes a moment to just study you, scouring every inch of you that he can see.

“Look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs, nosing at your cheek before pressing another kiss to your lips. His words make your cheeks burn. “Just so it's on record, I was a fucking idiot for not kissing you sooner. God, sweetheart,” he says, making your heart pound. Another kiss.

“I'm just as big of an idiot,” you reply, tangling your fingers in his damp curls.

When you tug on them, a low grumble of a sound leaves his throat. “Fuck, you're gonna kill me.”

He reaches behind you, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand as the other slips down to caress your breasts. He lets his fingers glide over the fabric of your bra before dipping them beneath the cups, squeezing one and then the other. You gasp, throwing your head back with a whispered curse of his name.

One corner of his mouth twitches up in smug amusement, his head tipping down so he can kiss at your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. You let your legs fall from around his waist, feet planting on the bottom of the pool. His hand traces down your side, stopping to toy with the waistband of your cute cotton panties. You suck in a breath in anticipation of his next move, and you exhale when his warm hand slips beneath the fabric, cupping your sex in a calloused palm.

You let your own hands wander, trailing your fingers down his toned chest until you reach the drawstring of his swim trunks. His breathing grows shallow, his cock kicking up against your hand when you cup his bulge through the smooth material. It sends a wave of satisfaction through you, at the fact that you have the ability to make his body react in such a way.

Meanwhile, his fingers tease your core, drawing loops around your entrance, almost dipping in but not quite. You involuntarily rut your hips against his hand, body desperate for more.

“Aww, a little needy, are we?” Eddie smirks, squeezing your ass with his free hand.

You frown. “You're making fun of me,” you whine, looking at him with big sad eyes, exaggerated in your attempt to garner his sympathy.

“Nooooo,” he coos softly, folding entirely as he leans in to kiss your pout away. You smile, kissing him back and letting your hand dip beneath his bottoms.

He makes a little ‘aah’ sound, letting his hips roll against your hand, providing more friction that he so desperately craves. Your fingers wrap tentatively around the base of him, and your eyes widen. You don't need to see him to realize how big he is. Your hand runs up and down his length, your breath hitching in your throat at the thought of fitting him inside of you; the stretch he'd provide. You never thought you'd be experiencing this with Eddie of all people, but you're not about to complain.

He finally dips two fingers inside of your throbbing center, the sensation making your vision blur. You want him so terribly, more than you think you've ever wanted anyone, and it all seemed to come out of nowhere. He feels incredible, and he's barely done anything.

His fingers reach deep, curling at your sweet spot, making your back arch. You lose focus on the way you were teasing his cock, your hand freezing in place as he fucks you on his fingers.

“That feel good?” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face expectantly.

“Yes, fuck, Eddie,” you praise, brow furrowing as his fingers start to move quicker. “So fucking good.”

He seems satisfied with himself, smiling almost shyly, and it only makes you want him more.

“Ed, please—” you croak. “Need you inside me,” you press, pawing urgently at his shorts in an attempt to push them down his legs.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Okay, baby, I got you,” he reassures, removing his fingers from your core and instead grabbing the base of his cock and tugging it free from its confines.

You're nearly trembling with desire, each second agonizing as you wait to be filled up by him.

“Take these off,” he instructs, tapping at your hipbone over the fabric of your underwear.

You do as told, awkwardly pulling them off and tossing the soggy garment behind you.

“God, that was so sexy,” he says, making you snort.

“Shut up and fuck me, Munson.” Your smirk reaches your eyes, a glint of recklessness coursing through them.

“Fuck. Yes ma’am.”

He instructs you back into your previous position, your legs around his waist, opening you up for him perfectly. He looks down, guiding himself to your entrance to the best of his ability through the wonky lens of the water. He isn’t sure if he’s quite got it until a gasp escapes your lips, your nails digging into his back.

And then he’s pressing further in, not too much but enough to get you to make more pretty sounds for him. You cry out from the feeling of him parting your walls, a delicious pleasure-soaked burn that has your eyes screwing shut.

Eddie’s having none of that, though.

“Nuh-uh,” he rasps. “Look at me. Need to see your face while I fill you up.”

Your eyes open slowly, head lolling deliriously to meet his stare. His eyes are heavy-lidded, lip sucked between his teeth as he gives you more of him. His cock is thick, an intrusion the size of which you’ve never felt before. You feel full to the brim and he’s not even balls-deep yet. The thought makes your head spin.

His eyes are so gentle, deep and familiar pools of brown that feel a lot like home. It’s obscene, the juxtaposition between lust and adoration you feel for him.

“God,” he grunts, “you’re so tight around me, baby. Can feel you squeezing me.”

You whine in response, his cock finally sheathing itself entirely within you. His name escapes you on a high pitched moan, and you see a blaze of fire pass behind his eyes. He’s feeling this aching desire just as much as you are.

“Please,” you beg. “Please fuck me.”

“Yeah?” he purrs. “You want it?”

It’s teasing, he’s mocking you and your impatience to be ruined by him. In any other circumstance you’d tease him right back, but you’re too drunk on him to care.

“I need it. Please, Eddie.”

“Shit, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he replies, steadying himself with one hand gripping the concrete edge behind you.

Your back is pressed firmly to the pool’s wall, Eddie’s chest pressed to your front. You’re caged in, loving your proximity to him. He gives you one final glance before his hips begin to rock into yours.

His thrusts are fast, yet you feel them in slow motion. Every inch of his cock dragging out of you before pushing back in, the fat head of him pressing deep inside. Your body feels like it’s on fire in the best way, the water around you doing nothing to extinguish you. Eddie is the oxygen, bringing you roaring to life, and you don’t want any bit of it to stop.

You cling onto him, your wet hands not getting much grip against his wet shoulders. Your breath comes out in spurts with each thrust he gives you, a repetitive ‘ah-ah-ah’ with each snap of his hips to yours.

“Christ, sweetheart,” Eddie pants. “Feel so fucking good on my cock, holy shit.”

A half-smile graces your lips, and he leans forward to snatch them in a heated kiss. The combination of his warm tongue slipping into your mouth and his cock pressing perfectly against your sweet spot has you reeling, tension winding itself tight in the pit of your stomach. Your hands move to hold his face, keeping him right where he is. He smiles against your lips and it makes your heart soar, pulse pounding in your chest.

Every thrust sends pangs of pleasure straight to your gut, and you know you won’t last much longer. How can you last, when the sounds he’s making are sinful and his cock fits inside of you like it was made to be there.

“Fff-uuuuck,” he groans, eyes screwing shut. “I’m gonna cum, babe, where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you croak, barely getting the word out in your breathless state. Your head is lolling back, eyes closed in complete bliss.

“Shit, are you sure? Look at me — are you sure?” he asks, tilting your chin up.

“Yes, Ed. Please,” you insist, hurtling towards your release.

He gives you a few final thrusts, hard and fast before he’s twitching inside of you, giving you all that he has for you. Your name falls from his lips again and again; a chant, a prayer. You’re cumming within seconds of him, clamping down around his cock as pleasure crashes over you in heavy waves. Your legs grow weak, barely able to keep yourself wrapped around him. He senses it, holding you up as you ride out your high.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant, chest heaving with each breath.

Eddie’s watching you intently, waiting to make sure you’re okay, that you enjoyed yourself. That you aren't going to leave. That this wasn’t a dream.

When you meet his gaze, a lazy smile tugs at your mouth.

“Please tell me that was as good for you as it was for me,” Eddie says, leaning to press his forehead against yours.

You laugh lightly, arms looping around his neck. “Yeah. It was,” you chew at your lip, suddenly feeling shy again.

“Come on, let’s get you dried off,” he says, pressing a sweet kiss to your soft lips, before fully pulling out of you.

You wince at the loss of him, hands pressing against his chest when he moves to lift you out of the water.

“Wait,” you say, halting him.

He cocks a brow, hands resting on your hips.

“You never taught me how to swim,” you murmur, feeling a newfound boldness.

“Well shit, sweetheart. If all I had to do to get you to learn was fuck you, why didn’t you say so?” he jokes, bellowing a laugh when you slap him, more a spray of water than any actual impact.

“If you want the chance to do it again, Munson, I suggest you shut your mouth,” you quip, smirking as he gives you a mock salute.

“Once again — yes ma’am. Let the swimming lessons commence.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #divider by cafekitsune

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