#curve in canal

[robthepensioner]

A curve in the Lancaster Canal, from one of its many bridges.

[hepdenerose]

Holey Moley!

At the end of 2024, a collapsed sewer made a hole in the road to Todmorden. Causing consternation to many, we seized the opportunity for a different view of Callis. We set off in winter sunshine via Bridge Lanes and Stubbing Drive. Moving onto the canal at Stubbing Wharf, we took care on the wobbly walkway over the runoff and gazed at a heron flying overhead to land on a ruined bridge. We past…

[granonine]

Saturday Soliloquy: Tempus Fugit

Seems like I was just writing a Saturday post a few minutes ago! Maybe that’s because it’s been a busy week, mostly with medical and dental appointments. Next week is looking a little less busy, except for Monday. I have to get a root canal. Never had that done before, and I’ve heard such horror stories! But my dentist assured me that it’s usually very fast, and that I won’t feel a thing. We’ll…

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗠𝗘 max verstappen x fem! reader ( fluff ) fic summary , You spend a season running—from him, from the feeling, from everything it could become, you call it a game, a fun chase. But in the end, under the lights of Abu Dhabi, something finally gives (3.1k)

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

Venice, Italy – The Balcony

Venice smells like rain and old stone, like secrets exhaled from the cracks of a city that remembers everything. The air is thick with the ache of something ancient, ghost stories that cling to damp bricks and kiss your skin when you’re not looking. The Grand Canal glimmers below like a mirror that only reflects the past, gondolas gliding with a lazy elegance that belies the electricity in your chest.

You're on the balcony, fingers curled around cold iron, your silk dress slipping from your shoulder like it’s trying to escape before the storm hits. But the storm isn’t in the sky. It’s behind you—six feet of tension and temptation, wrapped in Dutch stubbornness and Red Bull blue.

“You keep finding me,” you murmur without turning, eyes on the water, on the world, on anything but him. But your voice is softer than your smirk, tinged with something dangerously close to longing.

Max steps closer, his presence like thunder. You can feel it before you hear it. The air tightens.

“You keep running,” he says, each word low and even, but there’s something trembling beneath the surface. A ripple in the calm. A warning.

You turn just enough to meet his gaze, and it hits you—harder than it should, as always. That ridiculous face of his. Beautiful in a brutal kind of way. All edges and sharp lines softened only by the strange gentleness he saves for you alone. His eyes, glacial and guarded with the world, melt when they land on you.

And you hate that you love it.

“It wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t,” you say, letting your smile curl slow and wicked like the smoke of a dying candle.

He’s too close now. The kind of close that sets off every alarm in your body but makes you want to stay anyway. He plants his hands on either side of you, caging you in without touching you—just heat and threat and want, radiating off him in waves.

“You left me in Amsterdam,” he says, voice a blade that nicks something just beneath your collarbone. “Again.”

You arch a brow. “Poor baby. Did you miss me?”

His jaw ticks, eyes darkening just a touch. He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t flinch.

And that silence—it says everything.

Your heart’s racing, traitor that it is. You wonder what would happen if you said yes. If you told him you missed him too. If you told him you keep running not to escape—but to be chased.

“Tell me,” Max whispers, his breath a brush of fire against your mouth, “do you ever miss me?”

You don’t speak.

You kiss him.

And the second your lips crash into his, it’s war. His hands fly to your waist, your hair, your jaw—gripping like he’s terrified you’ll vanish again if he lets go. You drag your fingers through his hair, yanking just to hear that sound he makes when he loses control.

He’s never gentle with his love. It’s always been a wildfire. And this—this is an inferno. Burning every city you’ve touched, turning history into ash.

But you let him.

You always let him.

Paris, France – The Empty Bed

The morning is quiet in that cruel way only Paris knows—silver light slicing through the curtains like judgment, the kind that peels back the night and asks, what did you think this was?

Max wakes slowly, the warmth of dreams evaporating as his fingers search for you in the sheets. He’s still half-asleep when he reaches out, expecting the curve of your waist, the softness of your thigh, your breath dancing against his neck.

But all he finds is cold linen.

And silence.

His eyes crack open, and the room tells him the story before his brain does.

You’re gone.

Again.

The pillows still hold the ghost of your perfume—amber and something floral, sweet and defiant. The scent clings to the air like a dare, like a memory that refuses to leave, and it makes his chest tighten in that infuriating way only you can.

The sheets are twisted, evidence of a night spent tangling and unraveling. His hoodie is draped across the armchair—yours now, apparently, because you steal things you don’t ask for. Like hoodies. Like hearts.

On the nightstand, he sees it. That familiar scratch of your handwriting, scrawled in black ink on hotel stationery like you were in a rush—or maybe you just didn’t care.

Je t’aime bien plus quand tu dors. I like you much more when you sleep.

He stares at the note for a moment too long. Not blinking. Not breathing. Not sure if he wants to laugh or scream.

“Fucking hell,” Max mutters, dragging a hand over his face. His voice is low, wrecked from sleep and something worse.

You always do this. Slip away while the world is still dim, while his guard is down. Like a thief who only wants the thrill of the chase, not the prize. Never the prize.

And he should hate it. Hate you. Hate the games, the vanishing acts, the lipstick on his collar and the cigarette burns in his soul.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he sits up, bare-chested and exhausted, the note still in his hand like a brand. His thumb smudges the ink, and it feels like desecration, but he doesn’t stop. He never stops.

He reaches for his phone, voice steady even as his pulse betrays him.

“Call Lena,” he says to no one in particular, to the room, to the ghost of you still echoing in the corners.

A pause. Then—

“Book me a flight to Tokyo.”

Tokyo, Japan – The Hotel Room

The door clicks shut behind you with a soft finality.

Tokyo hums behind the glass, neon lights bleeding into the night like bruises—red, violet, electric blue. The air tastes like rain and sakura petals, like a story just starting even though it’s been written a hundred times before.

And he’s already there.

Max Verstappen, framed by the window like something out of a fever dream. Arms crossed. Eyes unreadable. Jaw tight. Still wearing Red Bull team gear, like he came straight from the paddock, still humming with engine heat and fury and the weight of a thousand expectations. But none of them matter now.

Not here. Not with you.

Your pulse stutters in your throat. Just a beat.

“You’re in my room,” you say, voice even, but there’s something sharp under the surface. Surprise, maybe. Or dread. Or hope you’re not ready to name.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just watches you with that look—the one that’s both fire and glacier, the one that melts and freezes you in the same breath.

“This is new,” you say again, a touch more amused this time.

“You’re predictable.” His voice is calm. Icy. Like he rehearsed this moment on the plane. “Every time you run, you come here.”

You click your tongue, letting the silence stretch as you cross the room, hips swaying, heels clicking against the polished wood like punctuation marks in a poem no one dares read aloud.

“And yet . . .” you purr, eyes glittering, “you still chase me.”

You reach out—just the ghost of a touch, fingers aiming for his collar, for something real—and that’s when he moves.

Fast.

His hand closes around your wrist, not hard but firm, pulling you into him like gravity always wins.

Suddenly, it’s skin on skin. Heat on heat. Breath shared and shallow. You’re close enough to feel the thunder of his heart. Or maybe it’s yours.

“I don’t want to chase anymore,” he says, low and rough and dangerous.

Your smirk wavers, just for a second. A crack in the mask. “That’s a shame.”

You twist, slipping from his grasp like smoke between his fingers—like you always do.

But Max follows. He doesn’t give you space to run this time. He crowds you back, herding you across the room with silent fury until your back hits the glass. Tokyo sprawls out behind you in chaotic beauty, but all you see is him.

“You think this is a game?” he growls, voice like gravel wrapped in velvet.

Your eyes narrow. Your chin tilts up like a dare. “Isn’t it?”

His hands land on your hips. Not to restrain. To anchor. To remind.

“Not to me.”

Then he kisses you.

Not gently. Not sweetly.

He kisses you like punishment. Like confession. Like he’s empty and you’re the only thing that can fill the void.

It’s teeth and tongue and fingers in hair. It’s breath stolen and given back. It’s every late-night call, every whispered don’t go, every bruised heart and burning look. It’s everything he’s never said carved into the curve of your lips.

When you finally pull apart, gasping, dizzy, wrecked— He doesn’t let go.

And for once, neither do you.

Monaco – His Apartment

It took a lot to get you here.

Phone calls you ignored.

Voicemails left in the middle of the night—raspy and tired and a little desperate.

A dozen texts that never quite said please, but every word was laced with it.

And finally, Max himself. At your door. Rain-soaked and stubborn. Eyes wild with something too tender for a man like him.

He said your name like a confession. Said come with me like a vow. Said I don’t want to chase anymore with his voice cracking like the sky.

And somehow . . . you said yes.

So now you’re here.

Wrapped in one of his hoodies, perched on his marble kitchen counter like a question he’s still afraid to answer. The sleeves swallow your hands, and the hem brushes your bare thighs. You look too soft in his space. Too dangerous.

Because this isn’t a hotel.

It isn’t Tokyo or Madrid or a back alley in Singapore.

It’s his home.

And the sunlight in Monaco is different.

Softer. Gentler.

Less about the thrill of pursuit, more about the ache of what comes after.

Max moves through the kitchen like he’s done this before—like this is normal. Like you are.

He’s barefoot, hair still damp from the shower, eyes focused as he flips something in a pan with the kind of precision that usually only lives on race tracks.

It’s unnerving.

This quiet. This domesticity.

The hum of something almost peaceful blooming in your chest.

You stare. Unblinking. Curious. Like he might vanish if you stop.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, without turning around.

You hum, stretching lazily, your back arching like a cat in sunlight. “I’m trying to decide if you’re real.”

That gets him. He turns, spatula still in hand, expression unreadable but eyes locked on you like you’re the only fixed point in the world.

“And?”

You swing your legs. Feet bare. Heart not quite. “Jury’s still out.”

He huffs a laugh, low and warm, shaking his head like you’re something ridiculous and holy all at once. He mutters something in Dutch under his breath—something you can’t quite catch but feel all the same.

But he’s smiling. Small. Barely-there. Real.

And it hits you, quietly, like all the best truths do:

This is what it looks like when a wildfire learns to stay.

The Côte d'Azur – Mid-Summer

You’ve never spent more than one night with Max.

It’s always been fleeting. A few hours wrapped in linen sheets, breathless silences in penthouse suites, the distant hum of a city that never quite felt like yours. Always a whisper of what could be—never enough time to see it through.

But then summer arrives like a dare. And somehow, he convinces you to stay.

At first, you think it’s a trap. Some beautiful illusion disguised as reality—a mirage with his arms around you and the Mediterranean just outside the window.

But the days bleed into one another with startling ease.

Mornings become late afternoons.

Late afternoons become dinners on the balcony, wine-stained laughter and fingers interlocked beneath the table.

And suddenly, you’re not counting hours anymore.

You’re just . . . here.

And it’s disorienting. The way he touches you now—like you’re made of something delicate. Not fragile like glass, but rare like a secret he never wants to lose. Like he’s not trying to catch you anymore, just hold you. Just keep you close enough to memorize the shape of your stillness.

One afternoon, you find yourselves on a quiet stretch of beach.

The sun melts over the horizon in shades of gold and fire, and Max lies beside you, one arm flung carelessly across his eyes, the other tracing patterns on your stomach. His fingers are lazy. Warm. Reverent.

“Stay,” he murmurs, almost too softly to hear.

You glance sideways, catching the shadow of him behind golden lashes. “I already am.”

He turns, props himself up on an elbow. The sand clings to his skin. His voice, however, is clean and clear.

“No.” There’s a catch in the word. “Stay after this.”

The wind tugs at your hair. The sea sighs behind you. And your throat tightens like it always does when he shifts the rules of the game.

“Max—”

“I’ll win for you,” he says, sudden and sharp. Like a promise he’s been holding on his tongue all week.

“Every race. Every championship. I’ll give you everything. Whatever it takes. Just . . . don’t leave.”

You let out a soft, startled laugh. Because what else can you do? He already wins. He already conquers the world at 300 kilometers per hour.

“You already do that,” you say, your voice a breath away from shaking.

He shakes his head, brushing a thumb across your cheek, his touch feather-light but grounding. “Not for me,” he whispers. “For you.”

And gods—it’s terrifying. The way he says it. Like it’s simple. Like it doesn’t change everything.

Because you were never meant to be loved like this.

Not so completely. Not so sincerely.

You were born to run. To vanish. To slip between fingers and leave only the echo of your laughter behind.

But lying there, in the afterglow of a half-formed future, Max’s heart beating steady against your shoulder, your fingers tangled in the space where promises go to rest . . .

You wonder. And yet. Maybe you don’t want to run anymore. Maybe—for once—you want to stay.

Round Fourteen – Singapore

It took weeks for Max to convince you.

Calls that stretched into the early morning. Messages you left on read. Voice notes you almost didn’t listen to. He begged without shame—told you he didn’t care if you stayed in the paddock or the hotel or halfway up Marina Bay Sands—he just wanted you there.

And god, you wanted to say no. But the way he said your name made it sound like home. So you came.

You wore black. Slipped into the paddock with quiet grace and sunglasses big enough to hide the hesitation in your eyes. Max spotted you immediately—grinned like the sun came back just to light up the weekend.

He kissed you like he’d already won.

But then Sunday came.

And Max didn’t.

The win streak snapped like a rubber band, loud and cruel. A slow pit stop, a strategy that unraveled, traffic that swallowed him whole. He didn’t even make the podium.

And the thing is—you didn’t care.

You didn’t care about the trophy or the points or the standings. You only cared about him—the way he clenched his jaw, the way he avoided your eyes after the race, the way his hand slipped from yours before you could ground him in something softer.

But somewhere in the mess of post-race silence, a horrible thought bloomed.

You ruined it.

You, with your cursed presence and clumsy heart. You broke the rhythm. The magic. The momentum. He had begged you to come, and you came, and he lost.

So you left.

Quietly. No note this time. No cryptic French.

Just your absence. Your perfume in the sheets. Your toothbrush missing from the sink.

And when Max returned to the hotel—tired, aching, and already looking for you—you were gone.

He stared at the untouched wine glass you left behind and felt the loss like a punch to the ribs. And then he assumed the worst.

She left because I didn’t win.

Because that’s what you do, right? You chase winners. You haunt champions. You don’t stay for failure.

Something cracked open inside him that night. Not anger. Not even grief. Something quieter. Something hollow.

So he did what he always does.

He drove.

Japan. Qatar. Austin. Mexico. Brazil. Vegas. 

Every race, he drove like he could undo the loss in Singapore. Like he could put the broken thing between you back together with lap times and champagne.

And he won.

God, did he win.

But every time he looked up at the crowd—at the garage, the grid, the VIP lounge— You weren’t there.

No slow smile behind oversized sunglasses. No click of heels across the concrete. No ghost.

Max kept driving. But the victory never tasted sweet again.

Abu Dhabi, The Final Race

Lap 58 of 58.

Nineteen wins. A season written in gold and sweat.

A symphony of records shattered, rivals silenced, legends carved into carbon fiber.

Max takes the checkered flag like a man possessed. Not with hunger. Not with fury. With purpose.

He parks the car. Throws the wheel aside. Climbs out to the roar of a world on its feet.

And still, he feels . . . incomplete.

Until he sees you.

Not in the VIP suite.

Not hidden behind tinted paddock glass.

You’re on the other side of parc fermé—leaning against the rail, heels digging into the concrete, that unmistakable silhouette framed by twilight and floodlights.

For a second, he thinks he’s hallucinating.

The ghost he’s been chasing all season.

But then you tilt your head, and that teasing, infuriating smile curves across your lips—so real it knocks the wind out of him.

You came.

You came to him.

And god, it guts him—because for once, you’re not the one disappearing into the smoke and silence.

You’re not the one he has to run after.

This time, you found him.

He’s still standing on the podium when his eyes catch yours again.

They hand him champagne. He barely notices.

His gaze never leaves you—not through the anthems, not through the trophy lift, not through the artificial rain of celebration.

Because nothing else matters. Not the title. Not the cameras. You’re here.

Later, in the half-lit quiet of his hotel suite, you walk toward him like a slow exhale, barefoot and sure, wearing one of his shirts like you never left in the first place.

You press a kiss to his jaw, soft and smug. “You look hot when you win.”

Max laughs, breathless, the sound cracking open something inside him.

“I win for you,” he murmurs, mouth brushing your skin.

You don’t run.

You don’t vanish with the sunrise.

You stay.

Fingertips in his hair, lips at his throat, body tucked into the space beside him like you were made to be there all along.

And maybe—just maybe—the chase is finally over.

Or maybe . . .

Maybe this is what it feels like when you both stop running.

[diceroll65]

party animal - b.e

billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: you are recovering from being cheated on by your now ex-girlfriend, and decide to attend billie's party where you know she will be. (billie is NOT the ex-girlfriend in question btw)

warnings: cheating, smut, praising, slight orgasm denial

part one, part two, part three

you have been laying around all day after finding out your girlfriend of a year and a half fucked another girl in the bed you share. you found out by finding a g string under your side of the bed, where you strictly only wore cheeky underwear. you confront your girlfriend as soon as she gets home from work, and tell her to pack her shit. the situation escalates to where she admits she cheated, but expresses the reason she did was because you guys haven't fucked in a while. boxes of her possessions sit in the living room later that night, as you clean up the kitchen to your now solo apartment. she leaves as soon as she finishes packing.

you wake up the next morning with the unsettling feeling of your close friend inviting you to her party, you and your now ex-girlfriend. up until this point, you had no desire to go. though, this feeling soon washes over, leading to a burning desire of you wanting to look absolutely sexy and rub it in your former girlfriend's face.

when it comes time to start getting ready for the party, you grab your mini black, skin- tight, halter dress that hug your curves exquisitely. you pair this with your vinaceous red pumps, along with your matching white gold pendant and bracelet set. your freshly pampered hands, amore at the grand canal colored oval-shaped acrylics dance across your chest as you admire yourself in the mirror. for makeup, you decide to be daring, doing a smoky eye look with a dark red lip. you spray tom ford's vanilla sex lightly over your pulse points, creating a more confident air about you.

you pull up to billie's place, with your attention focused on finding billie and letting her know the situation. you spot her immediately standing behind a girl, guiding her hips as she twerks against her. "classic billie" you say internally. the girl moves and billie's eyes go directly to you. "holy fuck, y/n-" she says admirably. you interrupt her "i need to talk to you" you say with a sense of urgency. she nods quickly, following you as you lead her away from the crowd. "you know tay is here right? i thought you guys were coming together?" billie utters, confused. "that’s actually why i wanted to talk to you" you start "she cheated on me" you say with a disappointed face. "no fucking way" she says with a dumbfounded expression. "want me to kick her ass out?" billie asks genuinely. "oh no, i actually want the opposite" you start, leaning against the wall. "i want her to be here, more than anyone, to realize how badly she fucked up" you declare, with a smile. billie takes in what you say, her eyebrow slightly rising "i think i have an idea" she states with a sinful smirk. you nod "whatever you have in mind, i'm down."

billie grins, reaching down to grab your hand. she escorts you towards the middle of the room. Good Ones by Charli XCX begins to play, as if it were planned. billie places both hands on your hips, twirling you around. her right hand gently grasps your lower abdomen, pulling your back against her front. you bite your lip at her unanticipated gesture, unaware of what else she has in mind. you situate your head against her shoulder, as your attention diverts to her face. billie smiles into your hair, breathing directly against your ear. your chest warms up due to the proximity.

you realize tay is in the back corner, and avoid looking in her direction. at this point, billie’s hands roam down to your hips, moving them to the beat of the music. billie leans into your ear subtly and says “she looks pissssed” in a low voice, slightly chuckling. you giggle at the thought. “good” you say, amused. you then turn to face billie, wrapping your arms around her neck. your left arm leaves her neck, going into the air, in spirit of the song tempo picking up.

“i always let the good ones go ooh-ooh-ooh ooh” pours out of the speakers as billie pulls you in as close as possible by your lower back. her eyes are narrowing, and she admires how lost you are in the music. you open your eyes to meet her gaze, finding yourself forgetting how to breathe. your mouth slightly ajar, the now heavy tension weighing on your chest. you both simultaneously lean in, your lips merging in sync. your arms meet each other again behind her neck, pulling her closer towards your face.

billie's hands desperately drag across your back, her grip tightens as you begin to fall into her due to the passion. it takes almost no time for you and billie to enter the closest room, which was the hallway closet, as your mind races with possibility. billie locks the door, quickly returning to your embrace. her expression completely unrecognizable, her eyes taking laps as she fervently admires your figure.

billie gently but firmly pushes you against the closest available surface, which in this case is against a shelf. your moans fill her ears, as she kisses and hovers over the pulse point in your neck, feeling your heart pulsate against her lips. she pulls back and looks at your now smeared lipstick, taking her thumb, rolling it over your lip and sticking it in your mouth. you suck on her finger, holding eye contact. as she pulls her thumb out, you kiss it and crash your lips into hers once more. she desperately reaches for the straps of your dress, and whispers into your mouth, in a begging tone "please, can i take this off you?" your stomach begins to twist, as you respond with "please do." she drags your straps off your shoulders, sliding the dress down to reveal your bare breasts and a pair of imperial purple lacy panties.

"my god, how could anyone cheat on you?" she says, her voice laced with lust. she places her thigh in between your legs, as you begin to grind involuntarily. she smirks at how instinctual that gesture was for you. you begin to slowly rub against her denim thigh, creating friction. meanwhile, your hair is aggressively rubbing against the shelf, creating knots you will have to attend to later. "fuck, you are so mesmerizing" billie says, watching you attempt to bring yourself to completion. "this is how you deserve to feel" she says, delicately fondling your breasts. you struggle getting yourself there, and you let out a sigh of agitation. "it's okay, let me help you" she suggests replacing her thigh with her hand. she adheres to your speed, picking up the pace a little more. billie is now rubbing your clit so fast that you are unable to stand. your balance is now being supported by the shelf behind you, as your knees begin to buckle. "holy fuck- oh my god-" you stammer, on the brink of finishing. "are you almost there? say my name when you get there, baby. she needs to be reminded that she can't make you feel this good anymore" billie voices, her eyes not able to steer away from you clenching around her touch. "bi-billie fuck" as you release with your knees giving out, causing you to slightly lean forward into billie's arms.

billie catches you immediately, one hand holding your abdomen, the other supporting your back. billie, now with a devious grin plastered across her face says "can we go one more time?" billie asks, clearly not wanting this moment to end. you nod tiredly, as she begins to kneel in front of you. she looks up to you through her eyebrows and asks "can i take these off?" as she motions towards your underwear. you nod desperately, as she without hesitation glides them off your figure. she is admiring your vagina, stalling to take in its beauty. "such a beautiful pussy" she whispers, watching you shift your weight because of how her compliment made you feel. "i just wanna-" billie says holding onto both thighs and hovering her head over your left thigh, breathing onto it. "i wanna have you gasping for air when i'm done with you" she says as she kisses your bikini line. she then licks along your clit, sending you a jolt of pleasure. billie proceeds to lick, as she then switches to sucking. you slide up and down the shelf once more, as you cannot support your weight due to the gratification. by now, moans are tumbling out of your mouth. "louder" she whispers into your sex, smiling at the groan you let out, feeling her voice through your body. you obey, as your moans increase in volume. she is smiling from ear to ear (ha) as she notices how well you listen. "so so good for listening, baby" she praises, as you are unable to pay attention. "billie oh my god-" you exclaim, as you are seconds away from releasing. "can you hold on a little longer for me, my love? i promise it will make you feel so so good" she says, as she returns back to your sex. you bite your lip, unsure if you are able to contain yourself from letting go. "i bet she's never made you feel this good, huh?" she says in an angry tone. "such a piece of shit" she says as she picks up her speed. tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes as you say "no one has ever made me feel so good, fuck." billie eyes light up hearing this, as she picks up the speed to an even faster rate. at this point, you are quietly screaming as the pressure of the climax becomes unbearable. "go ahead, baby. cum for me. right here, that's it" she says, as you completely release from the built up tension. billie helps you ride out your climax, as your legs are now shaking with how hard she just fucked you. and you are now letting your entire weight be supported by the shelf.

you look at her with your eyes barely open and cover your face, feeling vulnerable. billie replaces your hands with hers, as she traces shapes along your cheeks. "you deserve to feel this good every time, y/n" billie states "let me know if you ever want to do it properly" she says, with a genuine smile. you smile back, nodding and mouth "thank you" as you try catching your breath. all of a sudden your eyes completely widen as very harsh knocking is coming from the other side of the door.

part two -> so you don't have to scroll all the way back up! :D

[stargirlygirl]

what i think their package looks like (semi-realistic)

caleb's got the fattest one here and i will not accept otherwise. five inches, girth of a 375mL pepsi can (i'm kidding... maybe), tip is light warm pink #ffecf8, slight curve to the right (you only just noticed). he's cooing "biiiiiiiiggg stretch" as he splits you in half on it.

sylus has a dragon dick. veiniest cock that ever existed, pretty girthy, seven inches, tip is mushroom-coloured #e1d4cc, and curves up. he loves when you choke on it, loves seeing your saliva drooling down to his balls and the tears pooling in your eyes as he pulls your head back.

he also knots. like, he's pouring bucket loads of baby batter into your womb when he cums. the first time his knot swelled, you screamed from how thick it was. goes down after ten minutes or so.

xavier's packing it. that cute face is a decoy for his extra-large package downstairs. it's on the thinner side, but longer than sylus', about eight inches with a baby pink tip in #fcedf2. he's got a thick vein on the underside and it curves slightly to the left.

erm actually, the vaginal canal is on average five inches deep when sexually aroused (differs from person to person), so i don't think he's fitting it all the way in. if he was, you would be in a world of pain. (it's painful when the head repeatedly hits your cervix, despite what all of the smut on here would have you believe, in case you needed a reminder).

zayne's dick is perfect like he is. straight, six inches, good girth, neutral-brown #ccbbb1 tip. it fills you up so good, you can't help but go a little dumb on it, especially when he's brat-taming you.

rafayel is a fish, but i think he's only got one (not two like sharks do; they're called claspers btw). definitely a pretty pink tip in #f5e7f3, i'm thinking six and half inches, veiny but a bit thinner (somewhere between zayne and xavier).

[ivryne]

MOMMENTS OF BLISS ⟢ caleb x fmr

warnings caleb, mdni, caleb n mc doing the boombayah lol

summary Caleb was determined to make you remember him before leaving for his mission tomorrow.

my first ever smut n fic abt l&ds PLS TELL ME UR OPINION ABT IT GUYS IM NEW TO THIS (im a raf main but srsly caleb is something else n i need him like NOW)

Radiant stars clung unto the night like specs of dust, covering the vast skies with seas of glitter. Today was Caleb's last night before returning to Skyhaven. Soon he would be conducting a long term mission that will delay any upcoming visits. So of course, he had to make you remember him in his future absence.

Creaking sound from the bed was echoing through concrete walls of your chambers. The Colonel pulses within you, moving with a rough and steady motion in the place where you were connected.

The flame igniting in the pit of your stomach was inextinguishable. Each stroke igniting the blaze of your carnal desires from within. Arms wrapped itself along Caleb's neck as scratches scarred the muscles in his back.

The Colonel hissed and his pace quickened in response, earning a sharp gasp from his beloved. "Like that, sweetheart?" His breath hot and heavy, sending a shiver down your arched back. Wet kisses trailed from your earlobe to the curve of your chest, before you feel a slight pressure on the supple skin.

The purple tinge was far from discreet. Caleb smirked at the little mark he created before aligning his vision upon your flushed visage. His sharpness was kissing your entrance like there was no tomorrow, dragging deeper and faster. It was overwhelming but you couldn't help but want more.

"Caleb..." The way you yearned his name unleashed something in him. His fingers grasp your chin, locking his gaze with yours as his tongue hovered over yours, dissipating any remaining space between the two bodies.

"So-" Kiss. "So-" Kiss. "Sweet." Kisses upon kisses, your lips swollen from his display of love that graced your flaming figure. "Can't let-" His grunt rang over your ear canals as you clenched underneath. You could tell that triggered a reaction out of him because the grasp he had on your waist tightened, leaving crescent moons on the epidermis of your skin.

He seeps into you deeper, but his pace was slowly dissipating. You knew he was close, and so were you. "Can't let anyone else have you." He moaned your name. "My-fuck-my princess." You pulled him even closer, your legs wrapped his waist, urging him more. "Ca-Caleb, mh-close."

"Right after you-fuck-you know what you're doing to me, baby ah-" His sentence was cut short as you sealed his words with your lips. Flesh on flesh, completely vulnerable before each other. Intimacy overflowed amidst the peak of twilight. Two lovers wrapped themselves with each other as they climbed down their highs in a sync melody.

The orange hue of the heavens was a reminder for them that their bliss were coming to an end. But for now, just for a few more hours, you ignore the demanding orders of day. Focusing on your Caleb in your arms, his head nuzzled on yours, leaving a chaste kiss on your lips before pulling you closer as he dozed on his last peaceful rest with his home.

©️ ivryne 2025, don't repost, copy, or translate

[writingforstraykids]

THIS CHAN?? I WENT FERAL???!????

anyways 🤭 imagine you taking chan and him forcing you to look into the mirror behind the bed as he absolutely destroys your sweet little cunt😼

Ohh believe me, that pic made my thoughts run wild already so thank you!! Your request hasn't left my mind all morning so yeah...this happened real quick😂🖤

Right here with you, always

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 1915

Warnings/Tags: fluff, smut, p in v, unprotected sex

A/N: Hope you like it, love🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©writingforstraykids 2024-

male!version here

The cobblestone streets of Milan seemed to sparkle under the golden hues of the early evening sun as you and Chan made your way through the city. Milan was pulsing with life, its vibrant energy matching the excitement in your heart. Chan had invited you to join him on this glamorous outing, blending the worlds of high fashion and intimate togetherness.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, admiration blooming inside you. He was dressed in a blue shirt that highlighted the warmth of his eyes and complemented his dark hair. Chan suggested dinner at a small, elegant restaurant known for its secluded ambiance and exquisite Italian cuisine. Over plates of creamy risotto and perfectly aged wine, you shared stories and dreams, his laughter blending harmoniously with the soft notes of a violin playing somewhere in the background.

As the sky deepened into a velvety blue, Chan took your hand, leading you out into the enchanting night. Milan at night was a different kind of beautiful; the lights of the city reflected in the gentle ripple of the canals, the air filled with the subtle aroma of blooming jasmine. Walking through this cityscape with Chan, you felt as if you were part of a living canvas, every step painting a stroke of memories in your shared story.

Eventually, the night led you to his hotel, a place of refined elegance. Inside, the world quieted down to just the two of you. Chan guided you to the sofa in his suite, a soft, inviting piece that seemed to echo the plush luxury of your surroundings. As you settled into the comfort of the sofa, he pulled you gently into his lap, a smile playing on his lips.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” you whispered, your hands tracing the lines of his muscular arms, feeling the strength that lay beneath his soft shirt. “This blue shirt… it’s perfect on you. It makes your eyes look like chocolate; deep and endlessly sweet.”

At first, Chan blushed, a shy smile curving his lips as his gaze flickered away. It wasn't often that he heard such open adoration, even from you, his partner. Yet, the honesty in your voice and the warmth in your eyes encouraged him to accept your compliments. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, his own confidence growing with the realization of how much you needed him in this moment.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. His hands were gentle but firm on your back, making every nerve in your body sing with a pleasant tension. The room around you seemed to fade, the sounds of Milan's nightlife a distant echo to the intimacy that unfolded between the two of you. “Love how pretty you look in that dress,” he told you, hands fondling up your thighs and below the skirt. “Love how your body always searches mine,” he confessed, biting back a soft groan as you pressed down against him.

His lips met yours in a fierce kiss, hand shooting up into your hair. You kissed back eagerly, grinding down against him with soft, needy sounds. Chan's grip on your hair tightens, his hips chasing yours with a low groan.

As the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the gentle yet insistent passion between you, the world outside seemed to vanish completely. Chan’s hands moved with a tenderness that contrasted and complemented the growing intensity of the moment. He was skilled, knowing exactly how to make you feel cherished and desired all at once.

Your panties met the floor as Chan lifted his hips, shuffling his pants down enough to free his aching dick. He made quick work of preparing you, stretching you out with his fingers and kissing down your neck hungrily. You sunk down on him soon, moaning out loudly as he stretched your fluttering walls just right.

Chan's hands found your hips, steadying you in his lap as he started thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he whispered needily. “You feel so good, baby girl,” he told you, setting a fast pace.

You matched his rhythm, your movements fueled by the shared desire that connected you. The heat of the moment intensified, your bodies moving in sync as you rode him, each thrust deepening the bond between you. Chan’s eyes were locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel both powerful and utterly vulnerable at the same time.

“Chan, please,” you whispered, your voice breathy and filled with raw emotion. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice a mix of passion and reassurance. His grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing more urgent. “I’m right here with you, always, pretty girl.” You hid your face in his shoulder, embarrassed of the weak sounds he pulled from you with each thrust. Chan's hand sunk into your hair, pulling you back up. “I want you to look at yourself,” he said, nodding at the mirror wall right behind him. “Want you to see how pretty you are like this.”

“Channie,” you whined softly but did as he told you. “Fuck,” you whimpered as his pace fastened, making you bounce on him.

His grip on your hips was firm as he guided you up and down, his thrusts growing more insistent with each passing second. The sight of yourself in the mirror, bouncing on his lap, your dress hitched up around your waist, your face flushed with pleasure, was almost too much to bear. The raw intensity of the moment made you feel exposed yet profoundly connected to Chan.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his voice a low, guttural whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Do you see how perfect you are for me? Only for me?"

The combination of his words and the image in the mirror heightened your senses, your body responding to him with an urgency that bordered on desperation. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, the rhythm of your movements becoming frantic.

"Yes, Chan," you gasped, your voice catching in your throat. "I'm yours."

Chan's eyes never left your face, his gaze filled with a mix of adoration and raw desire. "Good girl," he praised, his hands guiding your movements with a steady, unrelenting pace. "I want you to feel everything, baby girl. I want you to feel how much I need you."

His words pushed you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending climax. "Chan, I'm so close," you moaned, your head falling back as the pleasure built to a crescendo.

Chan growled softly, reaching down between your bodies and playing with your clit. The touch sent shivers up your spine, making you arch into him with a loud, whimpery moan. “Such a good girl,” he moaned, thrusting into you harshly, feeling his own climax creeping up on him.

“Please, Chan~,” you almost sobbed, a little overwhelmed by all the pleasure coursing through your body. “Need to - please.”

"Let go for me," he urged, his voice thick with emotion. "Let go, pretty girl. I've got you."

With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your release washing over you in waves of pure ecstasy. Your cries of pleasure filled the room, mingling with Chan's own groans as he followed you over the edge, his body tensing beneath you as he found his release.

You collapsed against him, both of you breathless and spent, your bodies trembling from the intensity of the experience. Chan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

"You did so well," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your hair. "So beautiful, so perfect."

You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment and love. "Thank you, Chan," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

He smiled, his eyes softening with affection. "Always, baby girl. Always."

The world outside the hotel room was a distant memory, the night in Milan a backdrop to the profound connection you shared with Chan. As you lay in his arms, the city lights twinkling outside the window, you knew that no matter where life took you, moments like these would always bring you back to each other.

-

Later, after you had both cleaned up and settled into the luxurious bed, the quiet intimacy continued to envelop you. Chan's gentle touches and soft murmurs of affection filled the space between you, making even the simplest moments feel special.

"Do you remember our first trip together?" Chan asked, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness.

You smiled, recalling the memory fondly. "Of course I do. How could I forget? It was magical."

"It was," he agreed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. "But this... tonight... it's even better."

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting in the dim light. "Why do you say that?"

"Because we're here together," he replied simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "Because every moment with you is better than the last."

Your heart swelled with love for him, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. "I feel the same way," you whispered against his lips. "Every moment with you is a gift."

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew that no matter what challenges or adventures lay ahead, you and Chan would face them together, your love growing stronger with each passing day.

-

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke up to the feeling of Chan’s fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, his touch a comforting presence.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, turning to face him. His eyes were warm and filled with love, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Chan leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. “How did you sleep?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Perfectly,” you said, your heart swelling with happiness. “How about you?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” he admitted, his smile widening. “Being with you always makes everything better.”

You snuggled closer to him, savoring the peaceful morning. “I feel the same way,” you confessed, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

As the morning progressed, you both took your time getting ready, enjoying the relaxed pace of the day. The streets of Milan called to you, promising new adventures and memories to be made. But no matter what the day held, you knew that the connection you shared with Chan would remain the most beautiful part of your journey together.

-

Walking through the bustling streets of Milan once more, hand in hand with Chan, you felt a profound sense of gratitude for the love and happiness you had found. The city seemed to sparkle with the promise of new experiences, each moment adding to the rich tapestry of your shared life.

Chan squeezed your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the same joy that filled your heart. “Ready for another day of adventures?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

“Absolutely,” you replied, smiling up at him. “As long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.”

And with that, you both stepped forward, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store, knowing that together, you could conquer the world.

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[robthepensioner]

A cobbled and curved bridge over the Lancaster Canal.

[hoshifighting]

      seokmin + window sex

— fucking with seokmin pressed on a window in Venice.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, window sex, penetrative sex, public sex, clit stimulation, smut under the cut.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

the air outside is humid and heavy, the scent of the venetian canals filling your lungs as you lean out the window, hands gripping the wooden frame for balance. the old, creaking glass rattles slightly as seokmin presses his weight into you from behind. you can hear the faint sounds of voices below in the narrow streets, people moving along as if nothing wild is happening just a few floors up.

“keep still, baby,” he whispers into your ear, breath hot against the back of your neck. his voice is sweet, all teasing laced with that honeyed tone that usually makes you weak. his hands roam over your hips, gripping tight, pulling you back into him, the cool air from outside brushing against the heat between your thighs and his body.

you let out a small gasp as he shifts, his lips tracing down the curve of your back, teeth grazing just enough to keep you on edge. “you know people could see us if they looked up?”

“shut up,” you hiss, though there’s no bite behind it. you try to focus on the view—the canals, the way the water glistens under the moonlight—but it’s impossible with the way seokmin’s hands are sliding down your thighs, the way he’s toying with you.

he lets out a quiet laugh, fingers finding their way between your legs, circling the wet throbbing clit making you bite your lip, trying to muffle the moan that threatens to spill out. “c’mon,” he presses, his lips now by your ear again. “don’t be shy. let them hear you.”

you can’t help it; the way he moves, the way he knows exactly how to touch you, it’s driving you crazy. the risk of being caught makes you even more eager, and before you know it, you’re pushing back into him, desperate for more, feeling the cool wood of the window frame press into your stomach.

“fuck, seokmin,” you pant, your hands gripping the frame even tighter, the rough edges digging into your palms, grounding you as he finally gives you what you’ve been aching for. his hips snap forward, and the feeling of him sliding into you pulls a gasp from your lips, one you can’t contain even if you tried.

“that’s it,” he growls, his voice lower now, more serious. his pace quickens, each thrust pushing you harder against the window, the soft breeze cooling your overheated skin. “you’re so good for me, babe,” he breathes, hands gripping your waist so hard you’re sure there’ll be marks in the morning.

the sound of the canal water lapping below, the distant murmur of voices, it all feels so far away, drowned out by his cock filling you and his balls slapping your clit.

and then he leans forward, his breath hot on your neck as he whispers, “look down, see if anyone’s watching.”

you don’t. not because you’re scared—but because you’re pretty sure someone is watching.

you don’t look, but the thought alone makes your knees to buckle. seokmin catches it, notices the way your breath hitches, the way your grip on the window tightens.

“yeah, i know you’re into it,” he says. “they’d be lucky to see you like this,” he continues, panting now as he fucks you harder, deeper. “all spread out, bent over this window, letting me fuck you raw like this.”

you let out a broken moan, your knees nearly buckling, but his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you back into him, giving you no escape, no way to pull yourself together.

“shit—fuck, seokmin,” you gasp, hips pushing back into him, your mind a mess. his cock hits that spot inside you that makes your eyes cross. the open air outside feels obscene, like you’re putting on a show for the world, but it only makes you wetter.

“look at you, can barely fucking stand,” he groans, his pace quickening, the slap of his skin against yours echoing through the room. “you’re dripping for me, baby. you want everyone down there to know how good i’m fucking you, don’t you?”

you don’t answer, can’t answer, too lost in the way his fingers are working you, the way every thrust is sending you lost lost. but he doesn’t let it go. his grip tightens, his hand leaving your waist to fist into your hair, tugging your head back just enough so you can’t avoid the view anymore.

“look,” he growls, a wicked smile in his voice. “look down at them.”

your eyes flutter open, and the sight below is dizzying—tourists strolling by, the water gently lapping at the sides of the walls. no one’s actually looking up. but the thought that they could, that anyone could just glance up and see you like this—fucked out, bent over a window in venice with seokmin pounding into you from behind—it makes your whole body clench.

“that’s it,” he groans, feeling your reaction, fingers pressing harder against your clit, moving faster. “god, you’re fucking filthy, you know that? all they’d have to do is look up, and they’d see how fucking desperate you are for me.”

his words send you over the edge. you cry out, your body tensing as the orgasm rips through you, legs shaking, barely able to keep yourself upright. seokmin’s pace doesn’t falter, his hips slamming into you harder, riding out your high, pushing you past the point of no return.

“fuck—yes, just like that,” he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. “gonna come all over this pretty ass, baby, gonna mark you up so they know exactly who you belong to.”

the thought of it, of him claiming you like this, in front of the whole damn city, has you gasping, body trembling, unable to think of anything but the filthy words spilling from his mouth. with one last rough thrust, he buries himself deep inside you only to pull back and spirt his cum on the skin of your ass, his grip on your hips bruising as he groans your name.

[nizhspo]

genre: mha imagine, fluff, smut

pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: beachboy by mccafferty (seriously, go listen). senior week. north carolina coast.

“shut the fuck up.”

bakugo’s voice cracked through the hot, humid air of the car like a whip, low and guttural, sharp enough to cut through denki’s high-pitched cackling. the speakers were rattling. the AC was barely spitting. and the entire backseat smelled like spilled bud, mango juul, and red gatorade.

“bro,” denki wheezed, face buried in his lap as he desperately tried to realign the torn rolling paper, “bro, can you stop braking like that? you’re messing my shit up.”

“you’re rolling on my fuckin’ seat,” katsuki barked. “your dumbass ash is gonna stain the upholstery—”

“it’s not ash, it’s dust,” kirishima said, laughing way too hard for someone trying to be the voice of reason. “like, premium keef or whatever. it’s practically a blessing.”

“a blessing?” bakugo nearly swerved into the turn lane. “if one more fleck of your blessing hits my seat, i swear i’m dumping both your asses on the boardwalk.”

mina flinched beside him, one perfectly glittered hand flying to her ear. “can you not scream like a linebacker in my ear canal? you’re not the only one suffering in this metal oven.”

“roll the fucking window down, then,” he grunted.

“or just admit you’re being an asshole because you’re nervous,” she shot back, licking gloss onto her bottom lip and adjusting the strap of her tiny tank top in the mirror. “you’re not good with crowds, and you know your little summer thing might still be here. that’s what this is about.”

he didn’t answer.

she smiled. “called it.”

they were headed down to shorepoint, north carolina, that sleepy beachfront town that woke up every summer just long enough to let chaos bloom. it was the kind of place that barely scraped by in the off-season but turned electric by june, pulsing with flip-flop traffic and beach towels and 7/11 parking lot meetups. kids from every county within spitting distance descended on it like gulls, hungry for one last, sun-soaked bite of youth before fall slapped the future into their mouths.

last summer, they’d spent two months holed up in denki’s old little league coach’s vacation condo, free of charge, thanks to the likely fact that the guy was definitely fucking his mom. the summer had ended in a shattered bathroom window, one fully detached door, and a near kitchen fire involving tequila, leftover pizza, and a very misused toaster oven. safe to say, they weren’t invited back this year.

not that it mattered.

they were only staying for a week this time. senior week. the final lap. the week before jobs and boot camp and community college and life.

kiri had reserves lined up. mina was going straight to campus. denki had two semesters of GPA repair at community college ahead of him. bakugo hadn’t figured out what came after yet, only that this week still felt like a breath he was holding.

he kept his hands on the wheel. jaw tight.

he could already see it in the distance, shorepoint’s weatherworn welcome sign, sun-bleached and slanted, the big surfboard sculpture half-painted and tagged with “SENIORS!!” in faded black spray.

they curved down the main strip, same as it ever was. strip malls, old neon, the smell of fried shrimp and sunscreen. the boardwalk crowd was already thick, bodies in swim trunks and tank tops, bikes weaving between crosswalks, a group of girls walking barefoot and laughing with popsicles in hand.

and then they passed it, that motel. the seagrass inn.

across the street from their airbnb.

bakugo didn’t say anything.

but he saw it. the chipped stucco walls. the busted vending machine. the old chlorine-drenched pool out back where last summer, after stumbling out of a too-small, cigar-reeking motel room packed shoulder to shoulder with juniors and vodka breath, you’d grabbed his hand and pulled him straight into the water, shorts on, shoes off, giggling against his mouth, whispering some joke he couldn’t even hear over the sound of your laugh.

he’d tossed off his tank top and jumped in after you.

drunk on you. more than anything else.

the airbnb was two blocks from the beach and smelled like lemon cleaner and moldy HVAC.

inside was chaos.

mina called the biggest room immediately, claiming squatter’s rights and throwing her tote bag across the bed like a flag on a newly conquered nation. kirishima took the bunk bed room and almost hit his head on the ceiling fan. denki got the pullout couch after fifteen minutes of negotiating and threatening to sleep in the bathtub out of spite.

“i’m not sharin’ with any of you degenerates,” bakugo muttered, kicking open the door to the smallest bedroom and throwing his duffel on the bed. “i’ll sleep in the fuckin’ car if i have to.”

“you’ll sleep in your rage cave,” mina snorted from the hallway.

he flipped her off and shut the door.

it was barely three in the afternoon. the room was too bright. the ceiling fan squeaked. his head ached already, and he hadn’t had a sip of anything yet.

so he laid back. closed his eyes. breathed in.

tried not to think of you.

…

“hey, designated driver.”

mina’s voice yanked him out of sleep.

her phone was inches from his face, glowing with some blurry instagram story post, neon text over a hazy backyard: shorepoint kickoff @ 7 beachwear optional ;) music, jungle juice, plugs on deck + dj reese

bakugo blinked. “how the fuck did you already find that?”

“because, unlike you,” she said, too smug, “i actually kept in contact with people in this town.”

she shot him a look.

and he didn’t say anything. because he hadn’t. he hadn’t kept in contact. not with you.

not since last summer, since the motel kiss, since the promise, since the way you hugged him on the hood of his car the morning they left and said, “don’t be a stranger.”

but he was.

it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you. he just… couldn’t. not when you weren’t in front of him. not when your name lit up on his screen and made his chest ache. not when the texts piled up and he stared at them for hours and didn’t answer.

you were still in shorepoint.

he saw your posts. your selfies with the ocean behind you. the way you wore the same sundresses and made them look new every time. your nails were always fresh. your eyes still looked like trouble.

and he didn’t know how to face any of it.

but he was here now.

and he knew, no matter how long he’d ignored it, he’d be seeing you again. probably tonight. probably soon.

you were here, somewhere in shorepoint, barefoot on a back porch or dancing in somebody else’s kitchen, still impossible not to notice, and the idea of seeing you again sat heavy in his chest. like dread. like want. like both at once.

he didn’t have words for it. so he didn’t try.

he laced his sneakers in silence while the rest of the house spun around him, small, sticky, way too alive already.

mina had the speaker balanced on the stove, blasting rae sremmurd loud enough to shake the cabinets. her playlist was half old party bangers, half cursed internet relics that had no business making a comeback. the bass rattled the windows. the heat stuck to everything. the a/c unit was wheezing in the corner, doing fuck-all.

kaminari was shirtless, grinning wide, pouring blue raspberry svedka into three cups at once with no aim whatsoever. the counter was already tacky. the air smelled like weed, armpit, and bath & body works body spray.

mina had her phone out.

“i like to drink with kami,” she said, faux-british and too loud, swinging her arm over his shoulders. “’cause kami is my mate!” they shouted together, laughing.

“and when i drink with kami—”

kami lifted the cup above his head like it was a trophy, already grinning too wide.

“he takes it down in eight!” mina finished, throwing her arm up like a victory pose.

but denki was late. too busy laughing, too drunk to aim.

“eight!” he finally shouted, then tried to knock it back and wheezed halfway through it, chasing it with gatorade and pride. mina turned the camera on herself, sparkles on her collarbone catching the kitchen light.

kiri was on the couch, legs spread, already red from the heat and smirking like a dumbass, blunt resting easy between two fingers. “you guys are so loud.”

“we’re celebrating,” mina said, twirling in place, glitter puffing off her skirt. “it’s senior week. grow up.”

“we’ve peaked,” denki declared. “it’s all downhill from here.”

katsuki didn’t say shit.

he just watched the sun bleed through the blinds, streaking the wooden floor with gold. their bags were packed. their outfits picked. everyone was ready, in theory. no one was moving.

the night was waiting.

and he still didn’t know what he’d say.

mina emerged from the bathroom in a bikini top and cargo pants, hair pulled into two messy buns. she had a half-melted popsicle in one hand and was dancing while trying to put on earrings.

“don’t smoke in the fucking house,” bakugou barked, watching kiri spark up anyway, passing it to denki.

denki blew a lazy ring and grinned. “airbnb already has my card on file.”

“then you can pay the fee. I’m not helpin’ with that shit when they charge us three-fifty for burnin’ their curtains.”

“we won’t burn the curtains,” kirishima said from the couch. “we’re being super respectful.”

bakugou rubbed his temples. tried to breathe. didn’t help.

because behind the noise, behind the smoke and music and chaos, his pulse was already going.

he wasn’t drinking. of course he wasn’t. designated driver. mina had told him three times already. “we’ll be grateful when you’re the only one who doesn’t throw up in a cooler tonight.”

but he still felt buzzed.

not from the music. not from the smell of weed and sweat and perfume.

from the nerves.

the sun was setting outside, bleeding in through the slats of the blinds, painting long streaks of orange across the floor. it was golden hour, and shorepoint was waking up all over again.

from the back window, he could see it all. teens on every corner, flip-flops slapping pavement, shoulders glowing under the last light of day. a group was already gathering near the convenience store parking lot, passing a watermelon smirnoff bottle around in a brown paper bag. someone biked by with a towel slung over their shoulders. the silhouette of the boardwalk was just visible in the distance, a 25-minute walk, maybe, if you didn’t stop to flirt or smoke or hop a fence for a shortcut.

this was the hour the town glimmered.

this was when it all started.

and bakugou could feel it in his spine, the night unfolding. the chance of seeing you again sharp as salt on his tongue.

he tugged his shirt down. combed his fingers through his hair. adjusted his watch for no reason.

tried to act casual. failed.

and then—

“alright, let’s go!” mina shouted, already halfway out the door with a tote bag and a plastic cup filled with what smelled like betrayal. “driver to the front. passengers, don’t puke in the car unless you want to sleep on the porch!”

the screen door slammed behind her and bakugou followed. jaw set. eyes steady.

because it was time.

and he knew, somewhere out there, you were already laughing, already dancing, already dressed like sin and saltwater and everything he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for the past ten months.

they pulled up to the house just as the sun was sliding behind the trees, bleeding gold onto the roof and painting the windows peach-orange. it wasn’t even a house, really. more like a raised shack, pale wood graying from salt air, porch lights swinging as kids spilled out of it in swimsuits, half-buttoned shirts, and gleaming shoulders.

someone was already throwing up in the grass. someone else had two jello shots in each hand and was trying to climb the porch banister. the air reeked of booze, beach salt, sunscreen, and too many expensive body sprays.

“you comin’ in or what?” kirishima asked, already halfway out the car.

“i don’t do parties,” katsuki muttered.

“that’s not what bakugo last summer would’ve said,” mina sang sweetly, closing the passenger door behind her. “stop being such a wuss and go get your girl.”

he sat in the silence after they left. the engine ticking. the bass from the house pulsing through the ground.

the house was fuller now. sweatier. louder. bodies pressed wall-to-wall, beer cans on windowsills, sand tracked in on sticky floors. and then— he saw you.

standing near the open deck door, ocean air curling around your bare shoulders, sundress riding high on your thighs. your drink was half-melted. your hair was a little frizzy from the humidity. your eyes were crinkled, laughing at something the guy next to you said.

the guy was taller than katsuki. wearing a sleeveless tee and a chain, backwards cap tugged over a head of thick curls. he said something that made you grin, big, toothy, the kind of grin that used to make katsuki’s lungs feel tight. your hand lifted lazily to rest against the guy’s chest and katsuki’s stomach dropped.

not because he was jealous. not really.

but because that was his favorite version of you, flushed and smiling, talking with your whole face, dancing like the beat was made for you. and someone else was seeing it. soaking it in. breathing it like air.

he didn’t move. didn’t storm over. didn’t say your name.

but then you looked up and your eyes locked.

your whole body shifted. just slightly. something behind your expression flickered, surprise, maybe. recognition. something warm, but also a little tense.

you didn’t excuse yourself right away. of course not. you weren’t rude. you waited for the guy to turn his back, to get distracted by his friends, before slipping past him with a gentle hand to his arm and a soft smile.

then you crossed the room, weaving through people like you weren’t even touching the floor, and katsuki forgot how to breathe.

“hey, stranger.” your voice was light. unbothered. not even trying to be coy, just tossing it out like a shell into the tide, casual and smooth and dangerously you.

fuck. up close you were even prettier than he remembered.

sundress hanging off one shoulder. glossy lips wrapped around the edge of your straw. flower tucked behind your ear like you’d forgotten it was even there. you looked like a goddamn painting. like the sun caught in your collarbones and the corners of your mouth. like everything he hadn’t let himself think about since he disappeared on you.

“thought i scared you away,” you said, like it was nothing. like the silence he left you in hadn’t carved out months of wondering.

he felt the guilt immediately, a low, tight pull in his stomach. sharp. ugly.

but you didn’t look mad. didn’t look like you gave a fuck at all.

and maybe that was worse.

maybe he wanted you to be hurt. maybe he wanted some kind of proof that he mattered. that you weren’t just this perfect, untouchable girl who had someone new for every season: someone to kiss in june, someone to hold in july, someone to fuck before august ended.

he clenched his jaw.

“how was the drive?” you asked, like this was easy.

he swallowed. “shitty. shitty people.”

you smiled like you knew exactly who he meant. “so mina, denki, and kiri made it here in one piece i assume?”

“yeah.”

you took another sip of your drink, then lit up. “good. i can’t wait to see them again.”

he looked at you. really looked.

you were glowing. not just from the heat or the drinks or the party, but from the inside. like the year hadn’t dulled you at all. like every minute without him had only sharpened what made you irresistible.

and he regretted it. not texting. not calling. not trying. he regretted it with every cell in his fucking body.

you pulled your phone from your tiny bag, lit up the screen, checked something. then smiled.

“you know,” you said slowly, voice sweet, “today makes exactly one year since you fingered me on the boardwalk ferris wheel.”

he choked. like actually choked.

“what—?” his voice cracked. his eyes snapped to yours.

you just looked at him, lashes heavy, smile lazy. teeth sinking into your straw. “what?” you asked, all innocent. “you did it. not me.”

he stared. speechless.

you giggled, soft, sugar-high, lethal.

“you definitely had something to drink tonight, huh?” he muttered.

“maybe.” you stepped closer, so close he could smell you again, vanilla and vodka and sweat, warm and intoxicating. “you gonna do something about it?”

his breath hitched.

because you were right here. after all that time. after all those texts he never answered and nights he stayed up staring at your page and thinking about your mouth and the way you said his name when your legs were wrapped around his waist and your fingernails left half-moon dents in his shoulders—

you were here.

looking at him like you were already winning.

and you were. god, you were.

you held his eyes for a moment longer, head tilted just slightly, like you were trying to decide whether to push further, then smiled like you’d already made up your mind.

“you look like you could use a sip,” you said, offering him your cup, some half-melted cocktail mix of juice and something cheap, sloshing lazily in the glow of the party lights.

he blinked. “i’m DD.”

“okay?” your brows lifted, playful. “and it’s literally like 80% juice. i watered it down so bad. just have a sip. it’s no fun to party alone.”

he should’ve said no.

but that was the thing about you; you never even had to try. your voice didn’t beg, didn’t whine, didn’t press. it just suggested. it floated. and whatever you wanted— whatever crossed your lips, he found himself doing it like it was already decided.

he took the cup from your hand. brought it to his mouth.

and you watched him. not like it was casual. not like it was background. your eyes followed every movement, slow, steady, lashes dipped low. and when he sipped, he swore he could taste your lip gloss lingering on the rim. sweet. synthetic. sticky like melted candy.

you.

his tongue flicked against the inside of his cheek as he handed it back, jaw tight like he was holding something back.

you placed the cup behind you on the counter and smiled, pleased.

“that’s better.”

your hands rose, smooth and deliberate, sliding up his chest, fingers tracing the shape of him through his shirt. one hand hooked around his neck, the other playing with the edge of his collar, and then both arms looped behind his shoulders as you stepped in close, pressing against him like you were always meant to be there.

his hands found your waist instinctively, like gravity. like muscle memory. his thumbs pressing lightly into the soft skin there, right where your ribs curved in. he felt your breath catch just a little, the way your body molded to his like something made and remembered.

“mm,” you hummed softly, nose brushing his. “that’s better too.”

and then you kissed him.

not fast.not wild. not needy. just slow, soft. like a promise. like an apology he never gave. like a secret whispered between sunburned shoulders.

he leaned into you, and let himself sink. his mouth opened under yours, matching your rhythm, following the tilt of your head, the curve of your lips, the sweetness that lingered like peach juice and heat.

you kissed like you knew him. like you remembered what he liked. like you never forgot.

and his hands gripped you tighter. not rough, just anchored. grounding himself in the press of your waist, the slope of your back. the way your dress shifted beneath his fingers, thin fabric catching and sliding against sun-warmed skin.

you were too much. your taste. your heat. your goddamn mouth.

and when you pulled back, breath slow, lips parted—he nearly chased you down. his body tilted forward before he stopped himself, heart thudding hard against his ribs like it hadn’t caught up yet.

you smiled. not at him. not even for him. just to yourself.

“looks like you did miss me,” you said, eyes still soft, voice barely louder than the beat pulsing from the next room.

his ears flushed instantly. he grumbled, “maybe a little.”

your lips were still warm on his mouth when the shout came.

“bitch!”

you turned just as your friend came stumbling in, glitter on her arms, plastic cup in one hand, and the other outstretched toward you like she’d been looking for you in every room.

“come on,” she giggled. “they’re doing karaoke by the pool. someone brought a speaker and first day out is on the queue.”

you laughed. that wild, sun-sparked laugh that always made his shoulders drop, and gave katsuki one last look. mouthed a soft sorry, but didn’t wait. didn’t hesitate.

you never did.

you slipped your hand into your friend’s and disappeared down the hallway, hair bouncing, flower tucked just behind your ear, already lit up by the party again.

katsuki blinked. then turned back to the kitchen, lips still tingling, only to be met by—

“jesus christ.”

denki. leaning against the counter, mouth twisted like he’d just caught katsuki sneaking a second slice of cake.

“you good, bro?” he grinned. “i mean, damn. the kitchen?”

“like, people eat in here,” kirishima added, snorting. “she couldn’t wait till y’all found a closet?”

katsuki’s face went hot. “shut the fuck up,” he growled, but it was too late. denki was already wheezing, miming a kiss with both hands while kiri fake-moaned and slid down the cabinet.

“i’m serious,” denki said between laughs, “you were like—” he threw his head back dramatically, arms spread. “right here. next to the fucking microwave.”

“i said shut up—”

he wasn’t even sure why he was so pissed. maybe it was the embarrassment. maybe it was how easy you made him forget himself. maybe it was because you were already off, back in your element, while he was stuck here getting clowned by people who knew damn well he didn’t kiss girls at parties. didn’t kiss girls in public. didn’t do this.

but you weren’t just any girl. and that was the problem.

“guys,” mina said suddenly, appearing with a roll of her eyes and a drink in each hand, “can you stop making out with your own egos and leave him alone?”

she shoved a drink into kiri’s chest and shot katsuki a wink.

“some of us still remember what summer is for.”

…

the party moved.

spilled across rooms like dye in water. stretched into the backyard, where the pool glowed pale blue under string lights. someone pulled out a lighter. someone else lit sparklers on the porch. kids from three towns over were already half-naked in inflatable chairs.

katsuki made it as far as the back wall. saw two girls he vaguely remembered from home ec. one asked for his number.

“i’m gay,” he said.

she blinked. “oh.”

“yeah.” he walked off before she could ask any follow-ups.

and still, he ended up back in the kitchen. because no matter how far he drifted, he was always just trying to orbit back to you.

and like always, you found him again.

two arms snaked around his waist from behind, warm, bare, glitter-dusted, and he tensed instantly, shoulders locked, breath catching.

then he exhaled.

because only you would do that.

“katsuki,” you sing-songed into his back, breath soft against his shoulder. “you disappeared.”

“you’re the one who ran off,” he said, voice flat, but not angry.

“karaoke emergency,” you grinned, moving to stand in front of him, flower now tucked behind your other ear, hair a little more mussed, cheeks even more flushed.

you looked like you’d been living, like the party was yours and you were letting everyone borrow it for a night. “come on,” you said, tugging his hand. “come dance.”

he hesitated.

you pouted. “what, you’re too cool for me?”

“i don’t dance.”

“you do with me.” you said, like it was obvious. like you knew him better than he knew himself.

he didn’t argue.

the music was loud, a mess of old bangers and new remixes, the kind of shit that hit you in the chest and rattled through your bones. the crowd pulsed with it, jumping, shouting, hands in the air, drinks spilling.

and you were glowing.

dancing like you were built for it, like your hips moved on instinct and your shoulders rolled with the beat. you jumped, you laughed, you sang along like you were on stage and every word mattered.

katsuki stood behind you, hands on your hips, grounding himself. letting you take him wherever you wanted.

you reached back, fingers threading into his hair, pulled him down a little so your mouth brushed his ear.

“i hope we never die,” you whispered. “just like this. forever.”

he swallowed. tight.

because the way you said it, not heavy, not tragic, just true, felt like a wish he didn’t deserve to want.

he tightened his grip on your waist, pulled you closer. your back hit his chest. your body swayed into his like it was nothing. like it was everything. and he let it. because when it came to you: dancing, drinking, smiling with your eyes all blown and cheeks all flushed, he’d do whatever you wanted.

he’d fly.

and every time he thought he could breathe, you tugged him somewhere else.

back into the music. back into the crowd. back under the lights strung between palm trees and sagging porch rails, places he’d never have walked into on his own, places he didn’t belong.

but you made him belong.

you moved through the party like you were born inside it, and all he had to do was keep up.

your dress kept riding up as you danced, not indecent, but short enough that eyes followed, and every time, katsuki’s hands found your hem, tugging it down with a scowl, like it was a reflex. you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to. just grinned to yourself, leaned into him, kept moving.

you kissed him again after the cornhole game.

not just him, but everyone. you jumped up, arms in the air, shouting “we fucking won!” and planted messy, glitter-sticky kisses on the cheeks of every member of the winning side. kirishima. denki. some girl you barely knew who landed the final shot. and then him, last, your lips catching the corner of his mouth, breathless, laughing, sweaty from dancing, and radiant.

he swore the world blinked out for a second. just you. just the taste of you. just your hand in his again.

you worked the party like a hostess, like the queen of shorepoint. you pulled him from person to person, introducing him like he was yours, katsuki, the one i told you about. sometimes they knew you from middle school. sometimes they were your cousins from a street over. sometimes they didn’t even look old enough to be here.

he just nodded. gave gruff hellos. stood beside you while you chatted and hugged and laughed.

and every time your eyes found him again, he felt steadier. like he fit here. because you made room for him.

and then, you spotted someone in the crowd.

“oh my god—”

you didn’t finish. just grabbed katsuki’s hand and dragged, weaving through bodies like you were swimming. he muttered a few excuse me’s behind you, getting bumped by elbows and plastic cups, but you were already locked onto your target, one hand guiding him, the other lifting in a wave as you broke through.

“mina!” you squealed, launching into her arms. “i swear, i kept up with your prom pics, bitch, you looked gorgeoud.”

she hugged you tight, laughing, shoulder glitter catching in the light. “you’re literally insane. i’ve missed your ass.”

katsuki slowed to a halt behind you, catching his breath, watching the way you lit up. you were flushed again, not from embarrassment, just from energy. from the buzz of everything. your dress clung a little more now. your flower was halfway tucked into your braid. you looked like you belonged in this light.

you turned, beaming.

“obviously you already know katsuki,” you said, and mina rolled her eyes.

“unfortunately. notoriously bad driver.”

“rude,” he muttered, but his lips twitched.

“you still yelling at people in the car?” you asked, turning to him, cheeks heating, rocking back on your heels.

he couldn’t stop staring at you. not the way you talked, or laughed, or even moved. just the way you were. the way you charmed a room with nothing but your presence. the way you saw people, and they felt seen.

you were talking again, something about a friend of yours who had a crush on her. “i swear he told me he thought you were cute,” you were saying, nudging mina. “hold on—”

you waved someone over. a guy who’d been hovering nearby, pretending not to watch.

“this is him,” you grinned, and turned to the rest of them. “okay. group dance. now.”

no one argued.

the song changed. bass deep. familiar. bodies surged in again, sweatier, freer now. arms in the air, hands on hips, friends spinning friends, girls screaming lyrics that didn’t match the beat.

katsuki didn’t dance. except with you.

your back pressed to his chest. your hand gripped his. your hips rolled, and his body followed. your laugh was against his jaw. your lips brushed his throat when you turned.

he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun.

you made him laugh, loud, even, when you botched the lyrics to a rap verse and freestyled something so awful, so cursed, it made the girls around you double over.

you winked up at him and he thought, i want this forever.

you spun again. pulled him in. whispered something hot and stupid against his mouth, and he just nodded.

because he’d follow you anywhere. because this was the part he never got enough of. because you, loud, glittery, reckless, good, were it.

the party blurred, but you didn’t. you stayed sharp. you stayed his.

..

when you guys make it back outside, the deck is strung with paper lanterns and the night’s too warm for jackets. your sandals are gone. you’re barefoot, skirt fluttering just above your knees, moving like your body’s made of music.

he’s sitting in one of the sagging lawn chairs, half-sunk, arms folded, pretending he’s still above it all.

but his eyes never leave you.

you come back to him every few minutes. drape yourself across his lap. kiss his cheek, his temple, his jaw. murmur something stupid about the moon or how hot it is or how your thighs are sore from dancing.

he grunts. always grunts. but his hands find your waist every time. grounding you. keeping you.

you come back with a solo cup, glitter pink, half-melted ice, definitely too much. he plucks it right out of your hand before you can sit.

“uh-uh,” he mutters, holding it out of reach. “i think you’ve had enough.”

you pout, stumbling into his lap anyway. “you’re no fun.”

“nope. not tonight. not when you’re already—” he gestures vaguely to your everything. “this.”

you roll your eyes. press a kiss to his cheek. then another, slow and sticky, to the corner of his mouth. “mean.”

“you’ll live.”

your hands wander up his chest. slow. lazy. fingers splayed like you’re trying to memorize the shape of him again. you cup his face in both hands, fingers warm, firm, just beneath his jaw.

“you look so pretty like this,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his ear.

he doesn’t say anything. just exhales. closes his eyes for a beat too long. lets it sink in.

the house behind you has shifted. mellowed.

the playlist’s changed. no more scream-along anthems, just loose, messy pop songs about driving nowhere, fucking in back seats, talking about everything and nothing under gas station lights. someone’s cousin passed out facedown in the hallway. a dog showed up on the deck thirty minutes ago and no one’s claimed it. the beer pong table is now home to three strangers in wet hoodies tangled together like seaweed.

but you’re still glowing.

“alright,” katsuki muttered, jaw tight.

he stood. stretched once. cracked his neck. then turned to where kirishima and denki were leaned against the fence, giggling at nothing, half-dead. “hey, let’s go.”

“aw, already?” mina appeared from nowhere, sipping something clear from a mason jar.

“now,” katsuki repeated, already herding the three of them together. “get in the car. she’s coming too.”

you grinned, letting him hook a hand behind your back and steer you down the deck stairs.

at the edge of the lawn, you tugged his arm. “piggyback?”

he turned, one brow raised.

you blinked up at him, pout barely formed, voice low and innocent: “please? my feet hurt.”

he narrowed his eyes. “you’re not that drunk.”

you shrugged. “still in pain.”

he rolled his eyes but crouched anyway. you jumped, arms around his shoulders, chin on top of his head, laughing in his ear.

from the porch, kiri and denki were grinning like jackals. mina snapped a photo.

“shut the fuck up,” katsuki barked.

they put their hands up in surrender, snorting.

…

he didn’t have to drop the others off first.

he could’ve taken you home on the way. it would’ve made sense. would’ve cut the route in half.

but he didn’t.

he parked in front of the bnb, nudged kiri and denki with the back of his hand. “out.”

“what about—” kiri yawned, rubbing his eyes. “you’re not—?”

“droppin’ her off last,” katsuki said. “just move.”

denki, half-asleep, winked as he tumbled out of the car. “have fun,” he slurred. “use protection.”

“what the fuck—”

“don’t worry,” you cut in, voice syrupy, leaning toward the window, “we will.”

the door shut. silence.

katsuki stared straight ahead, fists flexed on the wheel. his ears were burning.

the drive back to your place was short. quiet. not awkward, just full.

he didn’t remember the turns, even though he’d been to your house countless times last summer. you didn’t say much. just curled your legs up on the seat, flower in your hand now, twirling it absentmindedly. your head rested on the window. the streetlights streaked your face gold.

and then, the house.

when he walked you to the door, it was late enough that the neighborhood was dead quiet. porch lights flickered across trimmed lawns. a single moth circled the bulb above your steps.

your porch light was soft, warm yellow, fuzzy around the edges. it made everything feel smaller. safer. like it couldn’t touch the rest of the world.

you turned to him. still smiling. flower askew. hair frizzy. cheeks flushed.

he reached out. brushed his thumb along your temple, fixing the flower again. gentle. like it mattered.

“thanks for tonight,” you whispered.

he didn’t say anything. just leaned forward. kissed your forehead. soft. slow. the kind of kiss that wasn’t about being seen. the kind of kiss that meant more than he knew how to explain.

he started to pull back but your fingers caught his shirt.

“you know…” you said, voice low, light. “you can come in. if you want.”

your hand slid up his chest. one acrylic trailing up the line of his jaw, slow and sweet.

“just gotta be quiet.”

you winked and his breath caught in his throat. then, as if you knew he’d follow you inside, you turned and opened the door.

your house was dim. not dark, not eerie, just quiet, touched only by the blue glow of moonlight leaking through linen curtains and the far-off hum of cicadas. no hallway lights, no TV. just the soft creak of the floorboards under your bare feet as you led him through.

“don’t step on that stair,” you whispered over your shoulder. “it creaks.”

his hand stayed curled in the back of your dress. your fingers caught his, tugging gently as you tiptoed past the garage door, up the narrow stairs. everything smelled like detergent and citrus. like the place had been cleaned too fast, like someone was expecting company and didn’t know why.

you pushed open your bedroom door.

he remembered it, even in the dark. the faint shimmer of string lights, the shelves stacked with old books and folded notes, a cluttered desk that hadn’t changed since last summer. your bed was unmade. your fan was spinning. your walls were still covered in pinned-up postcards and disposable film memories, curling a little at the corners.

you stepped in first. turned. closed the door behind you with the softest click. and when you looked up at him, all quiet, all flushed, all his—he knew exactly why he hadn’t dropped you off first.

he didn’t even wait. didn’t ask.

just stepped forward, hands on your waist before you’d taken another breath, mouth catching yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you melted. instantly. like you’d been waiting for this all night, or all year, or maybe just since the moment he stopped calling.

slow. unhurried. soft as cotton.

you reached behind your neck and tugged the zipper down, letting the sundress slip off your shoulders, then your hips, until it puddled at your ankles. you stepped out of it, bare, glowing, gorgeous. your skin caught the light like it had been dusted in sugar. no bra. no shame.

his breath caught, sharp, staggered, when he saw you like that again. you weren’t nervous. weren’t posing. just you. standing there, looking at him like you’d been waiting for this exact moment all year.

“fuck,” he whispered.

and his hands were on you immediately.

they swept up your sides, over your ribs, slow and reverent. his palms skimmed your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples, just enough to make them harden under his touch. his lips found your collarbone, then lower. kisses open-mouthed, heavy, tongue flicking just to see you squirm.

he dropped to his knees in front of you, arms looping around your waist, face pressed against your stomach. his voice was rough, muffled: “you’re not fair.”

you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair. “never said i was.”

he kissed down, teeth grazing your hipbones, hands sliding behind you to cup your ass. you gasped softly when he squeezed firmer the second time, his mouth already kissing up your thigh, warm and wet and hungry.

“get on the bed,” he said, voice low.

you did. you climbed back, slow, the mattress creaking beneath your knees. you laid back on your elbows, eyes never leaving his, and opened your legs just enough to be inviting.

he followed.

he settled between your thighs, dragged two fingers through your folds, slow, deliberate— then circled your clit, gentle, coaxing. you moaned softly. legs twitching.

“already wet,” he muttered, almost to himself.

you bit your lip, nodded.

he pressed one finger in. then two.

your breath stuttered. hips jerked. one hand flew to his wrist, not to stop him( just to feel him.

his fingers curled. massaged. not fucking, just opening you, spreading you, easing you wider with soft, deliberate pushes. his thumb never stopped moving on your clit, not once, even when your hips bucked.

your thighs shook. your mouth dropped open. “katsuki,” you whispered, voice breathy, broken.

“shh,” he said. “just let me.”

and you did. you were panting by the time he finally pulled back, fingers glistening. he kissed the inside of your thigh again, then climbed up, bracing his weight with one hand, staring down at you like you were holy.

your legs wrapped around him, pulling him in.

“come on, sweetheart,” you whispered. “take ’em off.”

he did.

dragged his pants off, then his boxers, breath heavy, body tense. he looked wrecked already, like the taste of you had scrambled something in him he couldn’t fix.

you sat up, eyes wide, hand trailing down to guide him, slow, certain.

“wait,” you said. “can i…?”

he nodded. and you climbed into his lap.

hands on his shoulders. breath hot between you. your fingers guided him again, the head of his cock slipping through your folds, catching at your entrance.

he kissed your neck. gripped your hips.

and you sank. inch by inch.

the stretch was so deep it knocked the air from your lungs. your nails dug into his shoulders, head dropping, a sharp moan caught in your throat.

“you good?” he asked, voice hoarse.

you nodded, lips parted. “not… not yet.”

you paused halfway down, breath trembling. he kissed your throat. his hand stroked your back, slow, grounding you. and then lower. deeper. until he was fully inside.

you let out a helpless mewl, high and soft and desperate.

he groaned. “fuck. you feel—” he didn’t finish. just held you. let you adjust.

and then, slow, you rocked your hips.

he met your rhythm, matched every roll, every arch. his hands gripped your waist, guiding you, breath stuttering in your ear.

you moaned again, louder this time.

he clapped a hand over your mouth. “i’m not trying to get murdered by your fucking dad,” he hissed.

you whined behind his palm, breath stuttering, voice broken. “he’s not that harm—” you gasped.

he thrust deeper, silencing whatever was left of that thought. he didn’t stop.

neither did you.

you moved together, bodies slick and hot, mouths brushing but never quite kissing, hands everywhere. his forehead pressed to yours. your fingers clawed into his back. he moaned against your cheek.

your breath hitched. you were so fucking loud.

his hand didn’t leave your mouth, not until your body started to tremble, not until your nails dragged down his chest, not until your thighs started to shake from the edge.

you u were close. so close, and trying, trying so hard to keep quiet. you bit your lip, hard, teeth digging into the swell of it as you rocked against him, slow and steady, clenching around him tighter every time your hips rolled down.

your breathing got shallower. chest rising fast. back arching. he felt every twitch of your thighs, every gasp that broke past his fingers, hot, desperate, muffled into his palm.

and then—a sharp little whimper escaped you. high. panicked. real.

his eyes shot open.

your fingers gripped his shoulders. you stiffened suddenly. not from fear, not from sound. just sensation.

because the orgasm hit without warning.

it wasn’t violent. wasn’t loud. wasn’t anything you expected. it just happened, soft and drawn out, like your body forgot to hold itself together. like you were melting.

your mouth dropped open. your legs clenched tight. and you came with your forehead pressed to his chest, breath stuck in your throat, hips still rolling through it, slower now, like your body didn’t know how to stop.

his hand dropped from your mouth. he was too wrapped up to remember silence, too lost in the feeling of you, of your thighs squeezing him, of your walls pulsing around his cock, milking him.

you kept moving. barely. still grinding through the aftershocks, hips shifting mindlessly.

“fuck,” he breathed, voice tight. he wasn’t going to last.

you leaned into him, chest to chest, lips brushing his throat. still shaking. still riding it out.

and then— creak.

his head snapped up just as the bedroom door burst open like it had been kicked.

“what the fuck?” your dad’s voice cracked the air like a gunshot.

you froze.

katsuki didn’t even get the chance to breathe or finish. his whole body locked. he didn’t mean to look, didn’t mean to move, just stared. fucking stared as your father’s face contorted from shock to rage in real time.

you were still in his lap.

he was still in you.

naked. glowing. breathless.

your mouth parted like you were about to say something. anything. but nothing came out as you fumbled with the sheets to cover yourself.

“holy fucking shit—” he choked, hands suddenly frantic, trying to lift you off him, not roughly, not even fast, but like he couldn’t think. like every nerve in his body was screaming to move.

you slid off with a soft gasp, legs too shaky to catch yourself. he helped guide you to the mattress, hand on your hip, wide-eyed, panicked.

he scrambled for his boxers, found them on the floor by the fan, yanked them up just as your dad took another furious step forward.

“katsuki, the window.” you hissed, grabbing his pants and flinging then at him like a grenade.

he didn’t argue.

he was already climbing out in his boxers, half-dressed, pants in his teeth, sneakers in one hand, nearly slipping on the siding of your roof as he landed, hard, on the overhang below.

your father charged toward the window.

“i’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, boy.” he bellowed. “you better not ever show your goddamn face on the street again!”

katsuki didn’t turn around. he ran.

barefoot across the lawn. pants clutched in one hand, boxers twisted, socks still on.

he found the car. somehow. slammed the door shut, heart beating so loud it drowned everything else. his hands were shaking on the steering wheel. his chest was bare, legs scraped from the landing.

he drove home like that.

window down. shirtless. breath coming in gasps. he funbled with his pants at a red light and drove with his pant legs half-rolled.

heart still stuck in your mouth.

[andy-15-07]

A Night in Venice

Pairing! Drew Starkey x reader

Words count: 3032

Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

The gentle lapping of the waves against the wooden stilts of the Venetian docks created a rhythmic melody that floated through the air, mingling with the distant sounds of laughter and conversation from nearby cafés. The golden hour had painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, reflecting off the canals and the city’s intricate architecture. Venice was always enchanting, but tonight, it felt like magic was in the air. Drew Starkey stood at the edge of the dock, dressed in a sleek blue tuxedo that hugged his frame perfectly, a calm smile playing on his lips. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked out at the horizon, but his thoughts were far from the city’s beauty or even the prestigious Venice Film Festival, where his new movie Queer had just premiered to a standing ovation. Instead, they were on Y/N, who was a few steps behind, adjusting the strap of her dress.

Y/N had been there through it all. The late nights running lines, the exhaustion, the anxiety, and the triumphs. Drew had always been grateful for her, but tonight, seeing her standing there in the soft light, wearing a flowing gown that accentuated her every curve, he felt his heart swell with even more love.

"Do you ever get tired of looking so beautiful?" Drew teased, turning towards her with a grin that melted into a more sincere expression. He held out his hand, and Y/N took it, stepping closer to him.

"If I do, I’ll let you know," Y/N replied, a playful twinkle in her eyes. She squeezed his hand, her touch warm and familiar. "But right now, I’m more interested in getting lost in this city with you."

Drew chuckled, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. "We’ll have plenty of time for that. The night’s still young. But first, there’s something I want to do."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Drew leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "You’ll see."

With that, he led her down the narrow streets, their footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestones. The festival had brought a buzz to Venice, but Drew knew exactly where to go to avoid the crowds. They wandered through the labyrinth of alleyways, passing under bridges and beside quiet canals. The city had a way of making you feel like you were the only two people in the world, and in that moment, Drew couldn’t have been happier.

Finally, they arrived at a small, secluded square with a single bench overlooking the water. The only sounds were the gentle ripples in the canal and the distant murmur of the festival in the background. Drew guided Y/N to the bench and sat down beside her, the soft fabric of their clothes brushing against each other.

"Drew, this is beautiful," Y/N said softly, her eyes wide as she took in the serene scene.

"I thought you might like it," Drew replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. "But there’s more."

Y/N looked up at him, curiosity and affection shining in her gaze. "What do you mean?"

Drew reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what it was. She turned to him, her eyes searching his, but before she could say anything, Drew opened the box to reveal a delicate ring, the diamond catching the light from the setting sun.

"Y/N," Drew began, his voice low and filled with emotion, "I’ve been trying to find the right words all night, but nothing seems enough. You’ve been with me through everything—my ups, my downs, my fears, and my dreams. You’re my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the love of my life. And I can’t imagine spending another day without you by my side as my wife."

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand, overwhelmed with emotion. "Drew…"

Drew’s heart pounded in his chest as he continued, "So, here in Venice, a place as timeless and beautiful as you, I’m asking you… Will you marry me?"

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air was thick with anticipation, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. Then, with a tearful laugh, Y/N threw her arms around Drew, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "Yes, Drew, I’ll marry you."

Drew felt a wave of relief and pure joy wash over him as he hugged her back, his eyes closing as he breathed in the moment. When they finally pulled apart, he slipped the ring onto her finger, the perfect fit symbolizing how perfect they were for each other.

They sat there for a while, wrapped up in each other and the beauty of the city around them. Venice had always been known for its romance, and now, it held an even more special place in their hearts.

After a while, Drew broke the silence with a soft chuckle. "You know, when I signed on to do Queer, I thought the most nerve-wracking part would be the premiere. But proposing to you? That was a whole new level."

Y/N laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. "I had no idea you were planning this. You kept it a secret so well."

"I wanted it to be perfect," Drew said, kissing the top of her head. "And seeing the look on your face when I asked… It was worth every bit of the stress."

They both laughed softly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. The tension had finally melted away, leaving behind a warm, content feeling.

As the evening continued, they wandered back towards the heart of the city, hand in hand, the ring on Y/N’s finger glinting under the streetlights. They passed other couples, tourists, and locals, all oblivious to the magical moment Drew and Y/N had just shared.

Eventually, they found themselves near the famous Rialto Bridge, where the festival’s afterparty was in full swing. The energy of the crowd was contagious, and Drew couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement as they joined the festivities. But despite the glamour and the flashing lights, all Drew could think about was the woman by his side.

They danced together, swaying to the music with the lights of Venice twinkling around them. Drew’s hands were firm on Y/N’s waist, guiding her gently as they moved in perfect sync. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own private bubble.

"You’re a pretty good dancer," Y/N teased, her voice barely audible over the music.

Drew grinned, dipping her slightly before pulling her back up. "You make it easy."

As they danced, Drew couldn’t help but think about how far they had come. From their first meeting on the set of Outer Banks, to the quiet moments they shared away from the spotlight, to now, standing in the heart of Venice, celebrating not just his career, but the love they had built together. It felt like a dream, but the warmth of Y/N in his arms grounded him in the reality of it all.

As the night wore on, they eventually found themselves sitting on the edge of the canal, their feet dangling over the water. The afterparty had died down, leaving the city quiet and serene once more.

"Drew," Y/N began, her voice soft as she gazed out at the water. "I’ve been thinking… about us, and about everything we’ve been through."

Drew turned to her, his heart skipping a beat. "What is it?"

Y/N looked at him, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "I know we’ve talked about it before, but now, with the ring and everything, it feels even more real. I want to be with you, Drew. I want to build a life with you, wherever that takes us."

Drew felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to her. "I want that too, Y/N. More than anything."

"But what about the distance?" Y/N continued, her voice wavering slightly. "Your career is taking off, and there’s going to be so much travel, so many commitments… I don’t want us to lose what we have."

Drew took a deep breath, understanding the weight of her words. "Y/N, I’ve thought about that too. And honestly, I’m not going to lie and say it won’t be hard. But I believe we can make it work. We’ve always found a way to be there for each other, no matter what. And now, with this ring, it’s a promise. A promise that I’ll always come back to you, no matter where I go."

Y/N looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt. But all she saw was sincerity and love. "Do you really believe that?"

"I do," Drew said firmly, his hand finding hers and squeezing it gently. "And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure we don’t lose what we have. I love you, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of relief and happiness. "I love you too, Drew. So much."

They sat there in silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water against the canal walls. The weight of their conversation hung in the air, but it was a good weight—a reassuring one.

Eventually, Y/N leaned her head on Drew’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers. They stayed like that for a while, soaking in the quietness of the night, the only witnesses to their love being the ancient buildings of Venice and the stars above.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Drew chuckled softly, the memory clear in his mind. "Of course I do. You were the new production assistant on set, and I think I was more nervous to meet you than I was for my first scene that day."

Y/N smiled, recalling the way Drew had stumbled over his words when he first introduced himself. "You were so serious, but I could see the kindness in your eyes. I knew from that moment that you were different."

Drew tilted his head to rest against hers, his voice soft as he spoke. "And I knew, from the moment you smiled at me, that I wanted to get to know you. I didn’t know then that we’d end up here, but I’m so glad we did."

Y/N looked up at him, her heart swelling with affection. "Me too, Drew. Every step of the way has been worth it, even the hard parts."

They fell into a comfortable silence again, the kind that only comes when two people know each other deeply. Drew’s fingers traced lazy patterns on Y/N’s hand as they sat there, both of them content just to be together.

"Can I tell you something?" Drew asked after a while, his voice hesitant.

"Of course," Y/N replied, lifting her head to look at him.

Drew took a deep breath, his expression turning serious. "I was so nervous before the premiere tonight. Not just because of the film, but because I knew I was going to propose. I kept thinking about all the things that could go wrong, how I might mess it up…"

Y/N smiled, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. "But you didn’t mess it up, Drew. It was perfect. You were perfect."

Drew’s eyes softened as he looked at her, his heart swelling with love. "You make me feel like I can do anything, Y/N. Even when I’m doubting myself, you’re there to remind me that I’m enough. And I want you to know that I’ll always do the same for you."

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears again, but she blinked them back, not wanting to cry anymore tonight. "I know you will, Drew. That’s why I said yes."

Drew smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. It was a gentle, tender kiss, full of the love and promises they had just made to each other. When they pulled back, Drew rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he breathed in her familiar scent.

"I love you so much, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too, Drew," Y/N replied, her voice equally soft. "And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

They stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other and savoring the moment. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them and the love they shared.

Eventually, the cool night air began to settle in, and Y/N shivered slightly. Drew noticed and immediately shrugged off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

"Thank you," Y/N murmured, snuggling into the warmth of his jacket.

Drew smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Anything for you."

They got up and slowly made their way back to their hotel, the city of Venice quiet and peaceful around them. When they reached their room, Drew held the door open for Y/N, and she walked in, turning to watch as he closed the door behind them.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Drew pulled Y/N into his arms, holding her close. "I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of holding you," he murmured into her hair.

Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Good, because I’m not planning on letting you go."

They stood there in the middle of the room, holding each other as the reality of the night finally settled in. They were engaged. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

"I’m the luckiest man in the world," Drew whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes shining with love. "And I’m the luckiest woman."

Drew leaned down to kiss her again, this time with more passion, more urgency. The kiss deepened quickly, and before they knew it, they were tangled up in each other, their bodies pressed together as they stumbled toward the bed.

Drew’s hands roamed over Y/N’s body, memorizing every curve, every inch of her. Y/N’s fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as she kissed him back with just as much fervor.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breath.

"I love you," Drew said again, his voice filled with so much emotion it made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, her voice just as breathless.

They spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each other, whispering sweet nothings and making promises for the future. They talked about their wedding, their dreams, and the life they were going to build together. And when they finally fell asleep, it was with their arms around each other, their hearts full of love and contentment.

The next morning, the sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Drew woke up first, his eyes slowly opening to find Y/N still asleep beside him. She looked so peaceful, her hair splayed out on the pillow, her lips slightly parted.

Drew smiled, his heart swelling with love as he watched her. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

Y/N stirred slightly at his touch, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw Drew watching her, she smiled sleepily, her heart skipping a beat at the look of pure adoration in his eyes.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning, beautiful," Drew replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

They stayed in bed for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence and the quiet of the morning. Eventually, they got up and got ready for the day, but the magic of the night before still lingered in the air.

As they walked hand in hand through the streets of Venice, Drew couldn’t help but feel like he was walking on air. Everything felt perfect, from the way the sun warmed his skin to the way Y/N’s hand fit perfectly in his.

They spent the day exploring the city, visiting the famous landmarks and indulging in the local cuisine. But no matter where they went or what they did, Drew’s mind kept drifting back to the fact that Y/N was now his fiancée. The thought filled him with a sense of joy and excitement that he had never felt before.

At one point, they found themselves back at the square where Drew had proposed the night before. They sat down on the same bench, the memory of the proposal still fresh in their minds.

"Last night feels like a dream," Y/N said softly, her eyes reflecting the soft light of the afternoon.

Drew smiled, reaching out to take her hand. "A beautiful dream."

Y/N turned to look at him, her expression serious. "Do you think this will last? This feeling?"

Drew’s smile softened as he looked into her eyes. "I think it will, as long as we keep choosing each other every day. Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s a choice. And I’m choosing you, Y/N. Every day, for the rest of my life."

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, and she squeezed his hand tightly. "I’m choosing you too, Drew. Always."

They sat there for a while longer, just enjoying the moment and the quiet understanding that had settled between them. They didn’t need to say anything more; their love spoke for itself.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the city, Drew and Y/N made their way back to their hotel, their hearts full of love and contentment. They knew that their journey together was just beginning, and that there would be challenges ahead. But they also knew that as long as they had each other, they could face anything that came their way.

That night, as they lay in bed, their bodies intertwined and their hearts beating in sync, Drew whispered into the darkness, "I can’t wait to marry you."

Y/N smiled, her eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep. "I can’t wait either."

And with that, they both fell asleep, knowing that they had found something truly special in each other. Something that would last a lifetime.

[grapejuice32]

Sex with True Form Sukuna

True Form Sukuna x reader

warnings: it's what the title says, unprotected sex, brief mention of anal, MDNI

word count: 396 a/n: this is canon in my head btw

True form Sukuna who has two cocks, while this is a very exciting prospect, I feel like they’re both just too big for them both to fit in the same hole and that it’s probably a struggle to fit just one of them in. But you still want to feel them both inside of you, so instead, you compromise. 

Most of the time that the two of you have sex, you’ll be on your hands and knees, Sukuna kneeling behind you, one hand in your hair, another splayed across your back that’s pushing you down, so you stay plush against the bed, his other two hands grip at your hips so tightly it’ll bruise, his black painted nails digging into your skin. Grunts fall from him as he thrusts into you over and over, his hips moving at a fast and consistent pace, your eyes tearing from pleasure as your moans are slightly muffled by the pillows on the bed. You feel so full, with every thrust the tip of his cock is kissing your cervix, curving just right to hit that spot inside your walls. His other cock is squeezed by the tight canal of your ass, he’s got one cock in each of your holes, and you’ve never felt anything better than this. 

The sensations are overwhelming, there’s so much going on at once, the pleasure from it all almost unbearable but you don’t want it to end. It’s a graphic sight, both sounding and looking pornographic, the way he’s pressing you down and leaning over you to whisper into your ear, the new angle making everything impossibly deeper, strings over moans leaving you in response as you nod dumbly to whatever he’s saying. It doesn’t take long until your cumming hard around him, squeezing him like a vice leaving him to follow not long after you, his hips rutting into you like an animal as he spills himself so deep inside of you that he’s sure ‘you’ll be able to feel him for days’. He doesn’t pull out until he can tell you’re really spent, he of course has the stamina to keep going for much longer, but you’re too far gone to take any more for a little while at least. But as soon as you’ve got the energy, you can be sure he’ll be back inside of you in no time. 

jjk masterlist here

a/n: requests are open

[e-on-edge]

Defying Gravity

18+ MDNI

Tags: Evol use, oral, rough sex, encouragement, breed kink mention, squirting,

(Haven’t been able to get this idea out of my head so here ya go!)

Caleb tickled your foot in the air, making you twitch and whimper. He loved having you at his mercy like this.

Gravity held you over his face, hovering about a foot from his nose with your legs forced open as wide as they would go, knees bent, feet locked under your supple asscheeks. Your arms remained free of restraint. A mercy allowing you to brace against the headboard while he explored your folds with animalistic fascination.

“Ah! Caleb…” You tried and failed to writhe your hips as his thick, rough fingers danced along your seam, teasing the juices from your hole. His Evol kept you firmly in place.

He wanted you dripping into his mouth - onto his lips - before he fucked you raw and silly. Needed to study every wrinkle and dimple of your cunt so that he would never forget how to please you. Most of all, he wanted you to cry. Not from discomfort or pain, but from pleasure. So much pleasure you couldn’t physically take any more. So much pleasure that you’d never even think about leaving him. Not tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. No. He would immobilize you with sex, and you would be his alone, forever.

You lurch forward as he pushes two fingers up your canal. The slow, deliberate invasion sends a wave of ecstasy through your body. Your palms slam flat against the mahogany, the cool wood a contrast to the hot tension coiling in your belly. “Hnnn!” You moan. He strokes you with intention, exploring every curve of your inner walls as though committing them to memory. He’d been teasing you for too long. Your pussy was practically mouthing his name with how it fluttered in need. “Fuck.”

Caleb didn’t relent, how could he? Your labia was spread open before his eyes like the pages of his favorite book, and he wasn’t putting you down till he’d finished reading. His fingers slipped free of your hole, releasing your slick in a thick droplet that his Evol allowed to fall onto his waiting tongue. The taste of you was delicate and sweet, with a hint of tartness unmistakably yours.

You flushed, humiliated as his eyes flashed with hunger. Your palms slipped on the bedframe, gravity pulling you down onto his face. His tongue was a flame against your already throbbing heat, sliding up your slit before he sucked you weak. Your legs trembled, muscles failing as his mouth closed around you. He devoured you with fierce intensity, his tongue probing every inch of your flesh. His grip was suffocating, holding you in place as he feasted on you. Your pussy clenched around his tongue, need building to a brutal peak. You felt his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you closer as he slurped harder.

Caleb's eyes flashed with a fierce light as he growled, his voice vibrating your pelvis. His Evol surged, lifting you higher. You felt weightless, suspended as he spun you around, your body rotating in mid-air. Suddenly his tip pressed against your entrance, and you tensed in anticipation. His cock slid into you slowly, stretching you wide with every inch. His girth was agonizing, but electric, sending sparks through your body that made your eyes cross and your tongue loll out.

The feel of you around his cock was heaven. Every thrust drew a low groan from his throat. He wanted this - wanted you. His hips bucked against you, his pace quickening as his need consumed him. His strokes grew shorter, more brutal, claiming you with every thrust. "Mine," he growled, the word repeating in his mind like a mantra: Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Ah-hnn!” You cried out, your walls clenching and spasming as he yanked your hips back, spreading your ass and slamming you against the tightness of his abs. Your bodies slick with sweat, he pounded your pussy, his cock colliding with your g-spot in a relentless rhythm.

Your body arched back against his Evol, your walls convulsing around him as he fucked you. Your vision blurred, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity. You felt yourself shattering, your orgasm ripping through you. Tears streamed down your face as your body released a torrent of emotions along with the physical tension.

"Cal-eb!" you wailed, your voice hoarse and barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Oh fuck!"

He growled, his eyes flashing with excitement as he felt your body tense around him. "Come on, baby," he mumbled, his voice low and menacing. "Let it all out. Give it to me.”

As you came, a hot, liquid rush burst from your body, squirting out between his cock and your walls. Caleb's growls grew louder, more insistent, as he felt the warm fluid gush over his skin. "Yes, yes, yes," he chanted, his voice rising triumphantly. "You're coming so hard, baby. That's my good girl.”

You felt yourself collapse, though his Evol held you firm, your body going limp as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. But Caleb didn't let up, his hips still pumping as he rode out the last waves of his own release. "Caleb," you sobbed, your voice cracking. "Oh Caleb, please..."

As he came, he doubled over you, his Evol dissipating as you both collapsed onto the covers with a sudden rush of air from your lungs. His body twitched, his cock pulsing deep inside as he released wave after wave of hot, sticky cum into your womb. The thought of his child taking root in you sent a surge of emotion through him, he tried to push the feeling aside - though he couldn't quite shake it.

Caleb's arms closed around you, his grip tight and possessive as he held you against his chest. His cock still throbbed inside you, his cum seeping out of your cunt as he pulled your face around and crushed his lips to yours. You felt his tongue invade your mouth, his kiss fierce and dominating as he claimed you all over again.

“You’re falling for me, aren’t you?” He said through a grin, wiping the tears of pleasure from your cheeks.

You roll your eyes. “I should never have agreed to using Evol’s in bed.”

Caleb chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Too late for regrets now," he says, his voice low and husky.

You can't help but laugh, and Caleb takes advantage of the moment to lean in and kiss you. His lips are warm and gentle, and you feel yourself melting into his touch.

As you break apart for air, Caleb's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze burning with intensity. "You're mine pipsqueak, caught in my gravity forever."

[cornsoupflavour]

Trip to Paradise (Krystal Jung NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

Requested, Story Beats, Story Plot by: @sunshinesmoonshines

f(x) Krystal Jung x Male Reader

Tags: 7.0k words, multiple creampies, public sex, risky sex, mentions of breeding/impreg, heavy romance

The life of a K–Pop idol is stressful, and there are times where idols would take a step back from the limelight to enjoy a little solitude away from it all. Krystal Jung, from f(x) is one such idol. The pressure to perform and pop out gradually got to her and she decided that now would be a good time to go on a hiatus and take a vacation to help ease her body and mind. Krystal was looking for more than just a holiday, however. She was on a little search for love.

Krystal had decided to take a one–month holiday in the gorgeous city of Venice, Italy. She wanted to experience its exquisite beauty, history and especially, its romance. As the days went on, she found herself slowly falling more and more in love with the city. She was checked into an authentic, Italian bed and breakfast situated near the Grand Canal. The sound of creaking of wood and the warm, flickering candlelight added to its ambiance. The whole atmosphere put her at ease instantaneously.

On her first day there, Krystal visited St. Mark's Square. The vast expanse of its piazza, dotted with cafes, tourists and even pigeons captured her heart instantly. The architecture of St. Mark's Basilica and the towering Campanile exuded a feeling of luxury. She was impressed. But it was the charm of daily life that truly captivated her. A street musician playing a moving serenade caught her attention. She stood before him for a moment, watching as he coaxed sweet melodies from his violin. She wondered if she should sample that for a song.

As the sun began to set, it casted an orange glow over the city. Krystal found herself wandering along the narrow and cobblestone streets, crossing over countless bridges that arched over the iconic winding canals. She couldn't help but feel captivated by the gondolas smoothly gliding by, their gondoliers gracing her ears with soulful Italian songs.

On one of the bridges, she saw a group of young locals. They were laughing and flirting with each other. A young man from the group noticed Krystal staring. He smiled at her, revealing dimples that pierced his cheeks. He gave her a small wave, making her flustered. She returned the gesture shyly before moving on.

She felt a slight ache in her heart, sad that she hasn't been able to truly experience the wonders of being with someone due to her job as an idol. But then again, this was the trip to attempt something like that. She carried on walking for a while before deciding she should head back to the BnB.

As she arrived at the door to the BnB, she bumped into you. Her ears perked up slightly as she took in the full sight of you. You did the same, a little taken aback by her beauty.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" you asked, lightly holding her still.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I'm sorry, are you another guest here? I don't think I've seen you..." she asked, her eyes checking you out slightly. Krystal had already met all the other guests who were staying at the BnB, the one other guest that isn't you.

"Oh, uhh, no. I'm actually the owner's son." You replied, a warm smile forming on your lips. You raised a hand out as you both introduced yourself to one another. "Oh wow, you're from Korea? You must be a model or something, you're beautiful!"

The light flirt sent a red blush to creep up Krystal's cheeks. "Oh, stop it, you~" she playfully waved her hand. The dim lighting of the BnB entrance casted an inviting warmth on both your faces.

"No, really, you're a natural beauty," you said genuinely, your lips curving up into a cheeky smile. Krystal felt a surge of happiness hearing the sincerity in your voice. "But it's getting dark, please come in. I hope I'm not making you late for anything."

"Oh, no, no... You're not. But I do think I should head back to my room..." her voice trailed off a little.

"How about you show me around town tomorrow? It'll be nice having a tour guide for myself~"

"Oh? A–Alright then, I'll see you back here in the morning. Have a great rest." The two of you parted ways, both sporting a wide and warm smile on your lips. You knew the type of business your father runs would definitely attract some attractive individuals... but one as astronomically beautiful as she is? Feels like a dream.

As the night went on, the both of you felt a slight buzz. It was like you couldn't wait to see each other again despite the short interaction. You managed to put your excited selves to sleep. The next morning, you eagerly awaited Krystal at the lobby of the BnB. You stared in awe as she descended the stairs from the top floor in a form–fitting grey sleeveless dress.

"So, shall we?"

You took a moment to check her out, taking in the full sight of her glowing allure. "Y–Yeah, let's go... Wow, you are just– stunning–"

"Thank you," Krystal replied with a grateful smile.

Your sentences struggled to come out as you battled the many thoughts in your head. You managed to snap out of it a few moments later, and ushered her over to your car. Luckily for you, there won't be any check–ins scheduled for the day, so you are free to spend it with this heaven–sent individual.

Krystal sauntered over as you held the door open for her. In a slightly seductive yet graceful movement, she ducked in, taking a seat beside yours in the car. "I must say, owning a BnB in such a beautiful place... must be a dream come true."

You chuckled softly, as you rounded the car to get to the driver's seat. You inserted the key into the ignition. "Yeah, it's wonderful. I don't usually work here since my dad runs the place. But when I do cover for him, it feels like it could be my dream job."

Krystal chuckled, leaning back against the seat. "I can see why you'd enjoy this job. The BnB, the city, the people... it's all just so breathtaking."

You chose to bring her to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection to admire the beauty of Italian art before bringing her around to savour the rich flavours of Italian cuisine in hidden trattorias, allowing her to lose herself in the quieter corners of the city.

"Wow..." she gasped as she gazed upon the artworks.

You were pleased to watch her take in the art with the same fascination you have. You both wind up standing in front of a large piece, both of you unable to speak for a moment.

Krystal bites her lower lip, eyes still fixated on the painting. "It's... It's different. Not something I've seen before. But I like it..."

The two of you continued to gaze at the works before taking an adventure through the winding alleyways to let her have a taste of the most authentic of Italian cuisines. However, you made sure to hold off from some of the tastier stores to ensure she'd still have more to try later on during her trip.

Over the next two weeks or so, Krystal explored every nook and cranny that Venice has to offer with your guidance. You both went from strolling down the Rialto Bridge to indulging in gelato in the quaint Campo San Polo. You even spent long afternoons lounging in the lush gardens of Giardini Pubblici as you watched the sunset together from the quiet vantage points of Dorsuduro.

You two would go on long–winding yet engaging conversations about your daily lives. Krystal held off from speaking about her experience as a K–Pop idol as she felt a genuine connection forming between the two of you. That revelation may have brought about a positive or negative reaction, but she wasn't willing to take that risk... It was hard not to though, as she felt herself falling for you... hard.

You were falling hard too. In between those conversations, you'd find yourselves lost in each other's eyes, the chemistry between you palpable. Sometimes your fingers would touch, and you'd imagine yourself stealing brief kisses under the veil of twilight. But most often, you'd simply sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the company of someone who wasn't just beautiful on the outside but also within.

After spending two weeks together, the both of you enjoyed each other's presence despite just touring the city with each other. The odd familiarity and comfort you both shared had grown, and you both secretly yearned for more. 

Krystal bit her tongue as she waited for you to take the initiative as you did the same. Eventually, she couldn't take it. She called your phone, asking if you'd be down to visit her in her room for some games to alleviate her boredom. Little did you know, she had something else planned.

"Krystal? Hey– I– Yeah, I'd love that actually. I'll be there in a bit."

You grabbed your things and made your way over, waving to your dad on the way in. The man sat behind the counter and smiled warmly, enjoying his peace while there wasn't the issue of guests checking in.

Arriving at her room, you knocked gently on the door. Krystal opened it, welcoming you with the sight of her in a comfortable outfit of a white tank top and some pink pants. Her hair cascaded in loose, free–flowing waves. The sight took you by surprise, such a casual set of clothes and yet she still is breathtakingly gorgeous.

"Hey, please, come in," Krystal greeted with an inviting smile.

You stepped inside, your eyes momentarily roaming her figure. You weren't as subtle as you wanted to be as Krystal caught wind of that. You looked around the room as you waited for her. "Thanks for inviting me, I'll leave the game choice up to you."

"Oh, I've got something in mind. Stay right here while I get everything ready," Krystal replied, guiding you to the couch.

As you sat down, you could hear some rustling and searching happening behind you. "Hey, do you need any help?" You offered. You were met with a reassuring no. After a while, Krystal placed a deck of cards on the coffee table, along with a pair of wine glasses and a bottle of red wine.

She sat down next to you, your thighs brushing against hers gently. Krystal picked up the deck of cards. "Ever played strip poker?"

A smile tugged at your lips, and your heart raced. "S–Strip poker? Not exactly... but I'm down to give it a try," you replied, glazing at her with a slight hint of lust in your eyes.

Krystal bit her lower lip, a playful shine washing over her eyes. "Alrighty then, strip poker's one main rule is that the loser has to take off one piece of clothing. Fair?"

"Sounds good to me."

With a smile she began shuffling the cards before handing them to you to do the same. Krystal dealt them out, and you both set about plalying. The game was intense, the suspense ran rampant as card after card fell, revealing the fates of your pieces of clothing. The hours passed quickly, and the room grew warmer as you both shed more layers. Krystal's tank top clung to her curves as you sat across from her in just your boxers. The wine wasn't helping either, making you both tipsy.

"Looks like you're the current loser~" Krystal teased, her eyes lingering on your chest.

With a devious and slightly inebriated grin, you reached over and pulled her tank top off, revealing her supple A–Cup breasts partially concealed by a black lace bra. Krystal's breath hitched and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

What you did finally clicked in your mind as you stood there, mouth agape and completely shocked at what you'd just done. Eyes wide, you stared at her, unable to move or do anything else.

The game paused, with both of you locked in each other's gaze, the air was thick with an unspoken desire. A few moments later, she leaned in, her lips hovering above yours as she whispered, "I think you've made your intentions pretty clear... and I can't say I don't feel the same way... Let's just end the game here."

You nodded, a trembling exhale escaped both your lips, and finally the two of you surrendered yourselves to the passion. She stood up, and sauntered over to you, straddling your lap with a swaying motion. She claimed your lips in a fiery kiss as your hands traveled each other's bodies, yearning for the touch you've both been craving for weeks.

Your hands continued to explore each other's bodies. Her soft breasts fit so perfectly into your hand as you kneaded them. You shifted your position a little, allowing you to pay special attention to her midriff, kissing and nibbling at every inch of her skin. Krystal shivered under your touch, her moans growing louder.

"Mmmh, aahh~ Y/N, that..." she gasped, her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

You slid down her body, your mouth watering to taste her. You began with small kisses near her belly button before slowly parting her legs. Her soft moans filled the room as you started to pleasure her with your tongue. You prodded and licked her pussy with your tongue, letting your taste buds take in the flavour of her honeyed core.

Krystal's body arched as she let out a guttural moan. "Mmmm, Y/N... you feel– you're doing so fucking well..."

Two of your fingers joined your tongue, teasing her, and bringing her ever closer to the edge. Krystal's body tensed, you could see her eyes screwed shut, her hand gripping the sides of your head. "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck yes... don't you dare stop..."

You gave her insides a few more licks before withdrawing your mouth from her. She looked at you with a mixture of lust, desperation and slight frustration. Her eyes begged for you to continue. You grinned, leaving a trail of kisses along her inner thighs, all the way up to her soft and sweet lips. "Hold on, we're just getting started~" you whispered into her ear.

A smug smirk appeared on her lips as her body relaxed slightly, returning your kisses as you repositioned her onto her back. Her legs draped over your shoulders as you two settled in the missionary position. Your lips connected in a passionate and sloppy kiss as she began to reach her arm out towards the dresser.

"Wait, Y/N."

"Mmmh– yeah?" You pulled away momentarily to see she'd pulled out a condom packet.

"I know we both want it as raw as possible... and I really want you to just knock me up, but since it's our first time, let's use these."

"Oh shit, yeah– of course."

Fearing she ruined the momentum, she brought her lips to yours once more as she tore out one of the condoms. Her hands were soft and gentle as she reached in between your sweaty bodies to sheath your member with the rubber.

Before long, it was on and you were both set to begin deeper exploration of one another. Her eyes gazed into yours, never leaving yours as you slowly entered her. Krystal's eyes widened, and she let out a soft gasp.

You moved at a steady pace, your thrusts syncing with the deepening of your kisses. Krystal wrapped her arms around your neck, her legs coiling themselves around your waist, encouraging you to go harder, faster, and deeper.

"That's it– Fuck me, Y/N– Harder~" Krystal panted.

You obliged, ramming your hips into her at an even quicker pace, your tip slamming against something inside her. She wasn't calling for a stop so that must mean she's loving it. Her eyes rolled back into her head with every thrust.

Her moans grew louder as you felt her tightening around your shaft. You bit your lip as you began to feel yourself struggle with holding back. After a while, you felt Krystal was ready for a little change. With your cock still buried in her depths, you helped her move onto her hands and knees as you slammed into her in the cowgirl position. You graced her tight ass with a myriad of slaps, leaving a red patch on her cheeks.

She began throwing it back towards you, and before long, she overpowered you. She adjusted herself to ride you, reverse cowgirl style. You laid on your back as she rode you to kingdom come. She leaned forward as she threw her head back, her breasts swayed with every movement.

"NNGH– THAT'S IT– FUCK ME–" Krystal urged, her voice raspy with desire.

You leaned upwards a little and reached around her. Your hands grasped onto her perky tits and began fondling them. You pinched her nipples and rolled them between your fingers. Krystal's moans became louder and you could feel her walls tightening around you, signaling she was close to climax.

She leaned all the way back, her hands rose to her tits as she squeezed them hard. "FUCK, YESSS~!" she screamed as she came hard, coating your cock in her juices. You continued to thrust into her as she shivered and gasped.

"God fucking damn– Krystal– you're so fucking sexy... I... I love your ass–" you groaned as you squeezed her ass cheeks hard.

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as she chuckled, "Y/N– I think from now on– I'm all yours– Just fuck me till we're both screaming each other's names~"

You complied, your thrusts becoming faster, harder, and stronger to match her words. You could feel yourself bottoming her out. Krystal eventually flopped forward onto her elbows, her pussy still impaled on your member. You could tell you were both frustrated from the presence of the condom but it had to stay on for safety.

The both of you paused for a brief moment before you helped her move back into doggystyle. You began plunging yourself into her once more, her back arching towards the bed. "God– Just like that, Y/N– You're making me feel so good~"

You could feel it, the sensation building within you. You could feel it building within her too, her walls clenching once more. You gritted your teeth as you did your best to hold back, but the sound of her sultry moans and the sight of her cute ass got the better of you. You were about to explode as she screamed out in pure ecstasy.

"YES– YES– FUCK, I'M CUMMINGG~!" her body shuddered with delight as her arms stretched out. You let out a loud grunt as you began your climax, your thrusts turning erratic and fast. As you pulled out, you flipped Krystal onto her back. She laid there, seductively, her sweaty body splayed out.

"Let me just–" she reached down and peeled the condom off your throbbing member. You stroked your shaft desperately as you brought your fingers to her pussy. Your thumb pressed against her clit while her fingers slid into her at a quickened pace. Krystal's body tensed again, her moans echoed in the room.

She returned the favour, wrapping her delicate fingers around your cock and jerked you off in a cockscrew motion. "That's it– Don't stop, Y/N– You're getting me so close again–" she whimpered. You could sense her orgasm arriving as yours did as well.

You both shared a knowing look as she pulled your face down for a romantic kiss. "Finish on my tits–" she ordered. You obliged, aligning yourself perfectly so that both of you could climax at the same time. You backed away slightly as she spread her legs out and moaned out your name.

It wasn't long before you both let out guttural moans as your orgasms peaked. Krystal drew your eyes to her tits and cleavage, giving you a place to aim your cock at. A moment later,  her chest became covered as you shot ropes all over her pretty little tits. Your fingers were clamped in her pussy as she began squirting hard.

After a while, your movements slowed and you slumped onto the floor, leaving her spread out on the couch. You brought your fingers up to your mouth, they glistened with her bodily juices. You stuck them into your mouth as you tasted her nectar.

As you peered up towards her, you could see her eyes were full of lust. Both of you were slick with sweat, your chests heaving. "Holy fuck– Y/N... You– You're incredible..."

"You were too... I don't think I've ever had sex that good–"

You both giggled, your hearts pounding, your breaths catching as you slowly recovered from the ethereal sexual encounter. Slowly, you both rose to your feet and cleaned up. Afterwards, the two of you slumped back onto the couch and embraced each other tightly. You both snuggled, sharing small and sweet kisses.

"Thank you, for tonight... It's been rough finding love like this in Korea."

"No, thank YOU for inviting me over tonight. But why's that? I'm sure there are plenty of amazing Korean men."

Krystal paused for a while, her face a little uneasy. "Hey, if you aren't comfortable with sharing, you don't have to."

"No, it's not that... it's just..."

You stayed silent, letting her have the floor.

"...I'm actually an idol... and usually it's taboo for us to partake in these kinds of relationships..."

You acknowledged her revelation, bringing her hand up to your lips to kiss it in hopes it'd help make her feel safer.

"Like those K–Pop people– the artists?"

She nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips as you kissed her ever so gently.

"Ah, I see... and you can't find love in Korea because it may negatively affect your career, got it... Well, I will say, you've come to the right place. And seeing as we've just had the most amazing sex ever, I'd love to be that little taboo lover of yours~"

Krystal couldn't help but giggle at your proposal. The genuine smile that appeared on her face spoke volumes of how much she appreciated the sentiment. You shared a loving kiss as the both of you basked in the warmth of your embrace.

The two of you continued to spend time together all throughout the night. In the morning, you made the hard decision of heading back home, Krystal playfully pouting and fluttering her eyelids. You gave her a long and loving kiss on the lips before heading out. On the way down you bumped into your father. The both of you shared a knowing look and he ensured you that the rooms were soundproof. You kept that tidbit of information in mind for the future.

And as the next few weeks went by, you shared romantic dinners to late night strolls. You both soaked up every moment, cherishing the opportunity to be together. One such opportunity was a carnival date. It was an example of your carefree bonding, and you both thought you'd spice things up a little with a challenge.

Krystal's eyes sparkled as she led you around the various attractions, her fingers intertwined with yours. "Let's play some games, Y/N. You seem like you'd be good at winning prizes."

Krystal, dressed in a grey top with a pair of sunglasses hanging from its neckline, Adidas shorts, a denim jacket, and her gorgeous brown hair down in slightly messy but still–kept waves. She was the other party in the proposed challenge. As you both go through the challenges, you emerge victorious, a mischievous grin formed on your lips.

"Well, looks like I won~ And as a reward, I want you to treat us to some ice cream and refreshments. How's that sound?"

Krystal rolled her eyes, playfully shaking her head, but relenting nonetheless. Soon, she returned with two cups of ice cream, two bottles of water and a bag of chips. "Here you go, your Highness. Please, enjoy your spoils," she said sarcastically as she handed you one of the ice creams and a bottle of water. The two of you giggled before setting off in search of a private spot to enjoy your treats.

You led her to the perfect secluded bench. Rich greenery offered the both of you privacy as you sat down. Your eyes glistened a little as you watched her get settled onto the bench, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

As you both got situated on the bench, Krystal turned to you and whispered into your ear. "So, what do you think of all this? I mean– like we both OBVIOUSLY like each other, and y'know... there's definitely something special between us... I know you said you wanted to be my little taboo secret but... shall we make it official?"

"I think we should. Or at least we should try and make it work," you responded, your voice hushed yet firm. "I promise we'll figure it all out. Besides, if things go south, you could come and stay here with me~"

Krystal chuckled as she playfully smacked your arm. She placed a sweet and lingering kiss before pulling away. "Oh yeah, you wish, right?"

You wrapped your arm around her as you both cuddled on the bench. Krystal couldn't help but blush as she felt your arm around her waist, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. Her surprise was evident when you began to caress her thigh. She allowed herself to let go, indulging in the moment. As your hand slipped beneath her shorts, she gasped softly, only to stifle her moan with her hand while you fingered her.

Krystal let out more soft moans as your lips continued to meet hers. The PDA intensified with each movement. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried biting her lips to suppress the growing moans. She could feel herself surrendering to you under your touch.

Your fingers moved with skill and expertise as your mouth met her breasts. She raised her denim jacket to conceal the inappropriate act as her hips began to rock against your fingers, pushing them even deeper. She felt more alive than ever, the illicitness of the act... on a public bench in the middle of the day... she could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins.

It wasn't long till her body spasmed, cumming from the sheer pleasure you brought her. But as she came down from her high, she looked dazed. She urged you to find a more hidden spot and you decided to lead her to the men's bathroom. She stood up and straightened herself out, her eyes lingering on the bulge in your pants. A devilish grin crossed her face as she sneakily entered the men's restroom with you.

The both of you shambled into a stall, your lips unable to leave the other. Inside the stall, you began to undress her, leaving her completely exposed except for ther shoes. She obediently lifted her, granting you easier access to her slit. You began pleasuring her again, this time with a combination of your mouth and fingers. The stall's soundproofing against the bustling restroom allowed her to surrender fully to the pleasure.

Krystal's moans grew in intensity, her legs quivered as you inserted a third finger. Every time you plunged your digits into her, her body reacted. The wet squelching sounds echoed within the stall. As the restroom grew busier, she tried her best to suppress her moans. Each time someone would knock on the stall door, she'd give subtle knocks back.

Seeing how ready she was, you removed your own clothes. You placed them on top of the toilet basin with hers. You positioned yourself in between her legs, one lifted over your shoulder and the other steady on the ground. You shared a look of anticipation and slight anxiety.

"This is gonna be the first time I've done it raw... Give it to me good, alright?"

"Yes ma'am~" you responded before pushing your lips onto hers. As you were both engaged in a sloppy kiss, you plunged your throbbing member into her wet entrance. The raw feeling of her insides made your legs tremble. You wanted to cum at that very moment, but you wanted to at least give her some pleasure.

You began thrusting at a desperate pace. The both of you moaned out each other's names as you felt your tip slamming against her insides. You exchanged saliva as her moans entered your ears like a harmonious tune. Krystal began to shiver and gasp as she climaxed, her juices spraying out onto the stall wall.

You couldn't help but reach down and play with her clit, licking your fingers once in a while to get her taste.

Switching positions, Krystal straddled you on the toilet seat, moving in sync with your body. Your hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer as she started to grind herself against you with a familiar desperation. You matched her rhythm, your hips leaving the seat occasionally.

"Aahh, Y/N, I'm..." she moaned softly, her voice tinged with lust.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." she continued, her grinds growing more insistent.

Krystal's breathing became erratic, and her movements became more forceful. The sounds of your hips slamming into one another filled the air as you nibbled on her neck. You both could feel the approaching climax.

The accidental collision of your hips with the seat sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she couldn't help but let out a guttural groan. "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don't stop..." she whimpered, her nails digging into your shoulders.

As you both approached climax, Krystal's body tensed, her movements wild and unrestrained. "THAT'S IT– FUCK ME, BABY– KNOCK ME UP–" she cried out, her voice shaking with the intensity of her pleasure.

You couldn't tell if she was serious but hearing her voice moan out like that? You couldn't take it. You took one of her soft perky breasts into your mouth as you bucked your hips upwards, burying your member in her depths before exploding, flooding her insides with your hot seed.

With a few final breaths, you both climaxed hard, your bodies quaking intensely as you sat on the toilet seat. You grabbed the sides of each other's face and started a sloppy makeout as you both let the pleasure seap out.

"Holy shit– I– Wow–"

"I know– I've never had sex in public before... but you're making me wanna do it more..."

Krystal chuckled as she leaned back, her body still impaled on your shaft. She looked at the time and realised it was starting to get late. She begrudgingly pulled herself off of you and quickly put her panties back on, sealing the cum inside her. She stood in a cute superhero pose, her perky tits jiggling with each movement.

The both of you cleaned each other up and left the restroom while no one was around. As the sky got dark, you opted to walk Krystal back to the BnB. Your father, already catching onto the brewing relationship, gave you another key for the room, allowing you to stay with her for a bit. You two walked back to Krystal's room, hand in hand, the night was still young. But you both had a long fun–filled day, and it was time to get some rest.

A few days later, the both of you found yourselves at the airport, your faces inches away from the other. She had her luggage with her as she stood there in a white button up and jean shorts. Your eyes brimmed with fake tears as you looked towards the floor, attempting to make her laugh through the sadness of the situation. Krystal, unable to hold back, chuckled before hugging you tightly.

"Aww, you're gonna miss me? I know, I know, baby... You can always come and visit me in Seoul~" she teased with a hint of sadness in her voice as she rubbed your back with her hand.

"Yeah, of course. Every chance I get, I'll be there~" you snapped out of your little fake crying fit to reciprocate the hug. Your arms embraced her tightly as you lifted her off the ground, spinning her around. As you spun, you planted a series of kisses on her forehead, cheeks and lips.

"Promise you'll come back to see me too, you know that room in the BnB will forever be reserved for you~" your sweet words touched her. The both of you couldn't help but cuddle and kiss as if no one else existed around you. Your surroundings faded into nothing as the only thing that mattered was the love you both shared.

With several hours left before her flight, you both decided to make the most of the remaining time. Krystal grabbed your wrist and brought you to the private lounge where she left her baggage at. She pushed you into the restroom and locked the door behind her. Such a bold move, what if someone saw...

She began to undress you methodically. She started with your shirt, undoing your buttons slowly and seductively, kissing your neck as she does so. She then moved to your belt, unbuckling it and pulling it off. Lastly, she undid your pants, letting them fall and pool around your feet.

"Mmmh~ That's a whole lot of man... Luckily for me, he's all mine~"

"All yours, baby–"

She gave you a desperate and fiery kiss before taking a handkerchief out from your shirt pocket and stuffing it into your mouth. "Shhh..." she whispered as she gave you a wink.

She knelt down and pushed your underwear down, revealing your semi–erect cock. She let out a small moan as her eyes remained fixated on your rod. She stood up and pulled you towards the mirror. You faced the mirror as you watched her through the reflection.

She slowly and flirtatiously undressed, giving you long looks at her ample body. You bit down on the handkerchief, reeling from the fact that you couldn't just ravage her right there and then. Well, you could, but there must be a reason she made you face the mirror right?

She removed her top, revealing her beautiful breasts. Your eyes zoned in on her nipples, almost salivating at the sight of them. They were hard nubs because of the cold restroom air. She approached you from behind as she wrapped her hands around your shaft. Your eyes widened as a muffled moan escaped from your handkerchief.

Krystal began to stroke you, her hand moving in slow deliberate cockscrews. She would occasionally spit on your cock for extra lubrication. She whispered into your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

As her hands went into a rhythm, her grip tightened, and she started to pump you up and down. You could feel her thumb cradling your cockhead, rubbing the precum slicked head in slow and sloppy circles. Each pump became faster, a loud squelching sound emitted from your cock as her saliva mixed with your precum. Your shaft would glisten with the mixture, reflecting the fluorescent lights of the washroom.

"Mmmh~ Y/N, I bet you're gonna cum so hard for me, right? You wanna cover my delicate hands with your thick... creamy... hot seed, huh?" Krystal's warm breath tickled your earlobe, her lips grazing it. "Feel my fingers... feel them moving up and down your hard... throbbing cock... You like that, don't you?"

The sensation of her hot breath, her hand and the mirror's reflection of her had you on edge. You neared the brink of ecstasy as she increased her pace. The sound of her wrist slapping against your stomach. Her hand glided on your shaft smoothly. The sounds that were emanating from the activity were loud and erotic.

You could see her tongue licking her lips every so often through the reflection in the mirror. It was like she was staring at her favourite meal. And you liked that. You liked feeling like her beloved snack. Because in your eyes, that was what she was to you.

Her hand twisted, coaxing your cock to release more precum and increase the lubrication. You could feel her nails slightly brushing against your shaft, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Cum for me, baby~ Show me... Show me how much you'll miss me... I know I'll miss touching you... So go on, darling... Show me~"

You couldn't hold it any longer, your semen began pooling at the base of your cock. Krystal sensed it too, and without warning, her hands began moving at a furious pace. You let go. Your body shuddered and spasmed as you erupted, shooting globs of hot cum all over her hands, the mirror and the sink. Her hands kept working you, milking you for every last drop before eventually slowing to a stop.

You panted and grunted as your body trembled from the pleasure. She looked at the mess you made all over the mirror, her tongue running over her lips, a wicked grin on her face.

"Ah, how was that for a parting gift? I hope it was worth it..." her voice trailed off as she playfully pouted. She brought her hand up to her lips and licked all of your cum off her hands.

She pulled the handkerchief out of your mouth and kissed you passionately before leading you both to the toilet seat. She shedded her jean shorts. You sat down, eagerly as she mounted you, pushing your face in between her pointy tits. You couldn't help but rub your face on them, letting your tongue lick her hardened nubs.

She grinded her hips against yours, the warm wetness of her pussy smeared against your cock.

"Mmm~ Look how wet you've made me... You'll have to take responsibility for this..." she purred, her voice tinged with lust.

You were quick to tease her, sticking two of your fingers inside her. Her walls tightened and spasmed around them. You began to finger her as she continued to grind on your throbbing member. The two of you matched the other's rhythm, the sounds of hips slamming against one another filled the room.

Her moans gradually grew louder as your fingers increased their pace, moving in and out of her. Adding a third finger, you watched her body tense up as she arched her back, pulling you further into her fragrant chest. Krystal swayed, her body reacting to the stimulation as the wet squelching of her insides echoed throughout the room.

"Ahhn~ Y/N, I need–" she moaned, a guttural groan escaping her lips.

"Fuck me, Y/N– please– I want you inside me–" she begged. You looked up into her eyes as they pleaded for the chance to have you ravage her insides one last time.

You obliged, sliding your cock into her wet and warm slit. The feeling of raw penetration sent waves of shivers all throughout your body. You began bucking your hips up into her at a steady pace. You held her hips tightly as you buried your face into her cleavage. Her walls were slick, clinging onto your member.

"Krystal–" you mumbled. Her sultry voice boomed with breathy moans as you continued to bottom her out.

"Goddamn– You're so tight– I fucking love it–" you added.

She met every one of your thrusts with a matching motion, her body moved with desperate hunger. You couldn't help but nibble on her nipples and neck, leaving light marks. The both of you could feel the frenzied lust taking over.

"Fuck, Y/N– That's it, don't stop– Don't you dare, baby–" she cried out, her grip on your shoulder tightening. You slammed into her, your speed increasing. Krystal moaned louder than ever before, her voice echoing through the small restroom.

Suddenly, her body began to spasm as she came hard. She threw her head back as her body shook and twitched. You continued to slam into her, her insides clenching and releasing you. After a few more thrusts, her eyelids fluttered open as she leaned towards you.

"That's it– Fuck me– KNOCK ME UP–" she wailed, her body tensing, her movements becoming more erratic.

The feeling of the toilet rubbing against your hips increased the intensity of her climax. You felt yourself reaching your boiling point as well. You threw your mouth onto her tits, your body shivering. As you felt yourself start to shake, you connected your lips with hers.

"I LOVE YOU– I LOVE YOU– I LOVE YOU–" she moaned, her voice muffled by your rough kisses.

Your thrusts became more intense, your hips leaving the seat a couple of times. You let out a loud groan, and your cock twitched inside her. Krystal screamed, her body shaking.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N–" she cried out, her voice shaking.

Together, the both of you reached a powerful climax, the second or third one for her during this session. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through your entire body. You flooded her insides with your hot seed, your bodies quaking intensely.

You panted heavily as you shared a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing. The pleasure began to subside, and the both of you slowly calmed down.

"I fucking love you... Krystal... I don't think I will ever find anyone like you ever again..."

"I love you too, Y/N… But me neither... Ah shit, my flight's boarding soon..."

The both of you reluctantly got up and cleaned yourself off. You shared a long and passionate kiss before you both exited the stall, looking as though nothing had happened. You walked her to the boarding gate, right before she crossed over. With a final hug, you smiled, your tears falling down your cheeks.

"Don't forget me, Krystal... Don't let those Korean men get you while I'm gone..."

"Don't worry, baby~ I'm all yours and you're all mine... I'll text you when I land, alright?" she reassured you. You held her close. She nodded, her face contorting with sadness. With a final kiss, you both pulled away. She waved as she entered the departure area.

As you turned away, you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

"I LOVE YOU, Y/N~!"

You shedded a tear as you returned the sentiment.

"I LOVE YOU TOO, KRYSTAL!"

And with that she ran off to catch her flight, leaving you a small ache in your heart.

"I'll always love you... Krystal Jung..."

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[moolovesyou]

openbook | angus tully x reader

a/n: teehee. im finding new animals to compare angus to. stoat has been added to the list.

request : "so she’s staying at barton with angus, and it’s just them. he’s DOWN BAD for her and she is too but kind of secretly like she’s nonchalant about it, so he thinks it’s just one sided. and then one day they are so bored and then she goes “wanna make out?” and you can visibly see angus panicking and freaking out that his crush just asked him that."

s: you pursue an especially shy angus tully.

w: cursing, suggestive, making out, pregnancy mention

wc: 2.4k

"I suppose that just leaves you two."

Mr. Hunham crossed his arms as he glanced between the only two students left to holdover. You and a certain curly-headed human stoat.

The past few days had been spent observing Angus Tully in his natural habitat. The first day was full of newfound wonder. At first glance, his presence proved to shine a greater aura than anyone else in the room. He hadn't noticed your incessant staring. By the third day, you had managed to move from across the study room to the same table, two seats across from him.

That's when he made eye contact with you for the first time. His eyes had widened slightly when he glanced over and already saw you looking. With a ghostly pink blush, he dug his head right back into his textbook. However, you definitely took note of the stolen glances every so often.

On the fifth day, he finally spoke to you.

". . .Um. . . can you pass the green beans. . . ?"

His deep voice whispered hushed and softly into your ear. It's like he was afraid to speak; afraid that you'd be so offended at his mere existence you would smash a plate over his head. You shivered. The whisper traveled quickly through your ear canal and straight to your spine, giving you the faintest tickle in your vertebrae.

You grabbed the porcelain platter and placed it in his awaiting hand. He had flinched slightly, inhaling sharply.

"Relax. I don't bite." Your lips curved into a small smirk. One of the other boys at the table snickered at your comment.

Angus's face flushed bright red. His face looked like a Christmas store that only sold bright red baubles. He almost dropped the green beans out of utter shock. You let out a not-so-discreet snort.

Now, here you are. Just the two of you.

"Sleeping arrangements will stay the same, each in their own infirmary room. The door must stay open at all times, however. God forbid you concupiscent youth sneak behind closed doors." Mr. Hunham grimaced, face turning into the nastiest frown. He shook his head to rid the thoughts. "Don't think you're off the hook with studying."

Both you and Angus groaned in synchrony. Angus turned on his heel, immediately retreating to the study room. You followed in pursuit behind him, keeping the smallest bit of distance. Hunham had gone to get himself a mid-day drink.

You trailed your finger along the book spines. American History. Sure, whatever. You pulled the book out, craning your neck to peek over your shoulder and get the smallest look at him. Angus had already situated himself in the table closest to the fireplace. He sat hunched over, headful of hair resting on his hand.

The light from one of the windows beamed onto him. Rays of sunlight appeared tangled in his curls. He was like a book craving to be read. Just waiting for someone to crack the spine a bit.

Before you knew it, your legs had done all the thinking. You carefully waltzed over, the floor feeling like ice to your flared up passion. You plopped yourself into the seat right beside him and placed the book down in front of you.

Angus lifted his head from his hand. A once sleepy expression now turned into one of pure bewilderment. His gaze flickered, eyes scanning you from top to bottom. They lingered on certain areas.

"Hi." You said.

Angus gulped, "Hey."

"Mind if I sit here?" You furrowed your brows, opening the textbook to a random page.

"You already are." He mumbled. He cracked his knuckles anxiously. "N-Not that I have a problem with that. Not at all."

"Good." You smiled at him. He swallowed, once again. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

For a while, you actually studied. You paid no mind to the mind-boggled handsome deer beside you. His breathing faltered with every page you turned. It was laughable. Just then, a door creaked open.

"EXCUSE ME!" An angered voice boomed. "Don't sit beside each other!"

Hunham.

"I didn't know teen pregnancy was airborne." You quipped, scoffing at the fuming man. If this was a cartoon, Hunham would have puffs of smoke billowing out of every orifice in his face.

Angus stifled a laugh, before straightening his face at Hunham's narrowed glare.

"Separate."

You and Angus shared a glance. You didn't move a muscle. Angus shifted awkwardly in his seat. The stocky man raised a brow, mouth dropping in disbelief.

"Move away, Mr. Tully."

Angus's lips formed into a thin line. With a harsh smack, he shut the book he was reading. He hesitantly lifted himself from the chair. It skidded against the floor with a loud screech. He gave you a quick final glance. His eyes were pleading to see your face for more than just twenty minutes. An hour, hell, he'd sit there for two weeks staring at your blank expression. He blinked away the puppy dog stare and shimmied over to a table in the farthest corner.

Thanks, Mr. Hunham.

The rest of the day blurred past. All that heavy tension had proved to be a terrible prescription for you; as it didn't allow you to think straight. You sat across from Angus during dinner, allowing you to tap and tease him with your foot. He nearly choked on his potatoes.

It was now past curfew. Every night, an hour or so after curfew, Hunham would pass through the infirmary for a quick bed check before going to bed. You couldn't sleep. You didn't know why exactly. But, it felt like you were waiting for something. An opportunity was on the line. Angus was less than 20 feet away from you. There wasn't even a door separating you. Hunham was on the complete other side of the wing. How could you pass this up? The night sky had finally answered you and the stars aligned; and they formed a bright white arrow pointing into Angus's room.

There it was. The small pitter-patter of Hunham's footsteps. You shut your eyes, trying to appear as deep into slumber as possible. The floorboards creaked underneath him as he stepped closer. He stopped, right around where the door must be. Silence. Did he even breathe?

A couple more seconds passed. And then; pitter-patter. All the way down the hall, until it disappeared into a room and behind a shut door.

You almost threw yourself out the window with how quickly you shot up from the bed. Your toes tapped against the cold wooden floor. It dissipated any tiredness within your body. You stood sheepishly. Moving from this room to the other was a mission. It had to be preformed like a graceful dance. Every step was important. Every step had to be meticulously calculated. Simply to make sure not a single creak or squeak blew your cover.

You tip-toed past the empty beds in your room, stopping at the doorframe. His room was a foot away from you. You could almost see the bedframes. You peeked out the room, an ominous ever-elongating hallway proving to be empty. With a few more steps, you found yourself past his open doorframe.

Oh, and how worthy it all was. Angus laid there, in his makeshift infirmary queen mattress. He faced away from you, shoulders rising with every breath he took. You were physically drawn to him, inching closer to his bed until you gently sat on the edge of the bed.

Angus shifted sides. He flipped over and faced you. His face twitched in his slumber, eyes stirring under his shut lids. You hoped he was dreaming about you.

Was it creepy to be sat staring at him? Yes. But, how could you not? He looked so peaceful. So pretty. Your gaze sketched over his features, noting every freckly spot and mole on his skin.

You reached your fingers towards his jaw, hovering just slightly above the soft skin. His stubble had grown a bit throughout the days stranded here; causing his jawline to look impossibly sharper. You don't know what you were thinking (other than 'shit, shit, shit, shit'), but you placed your thumb onto his skin. A gentle caress.

You clearly didn't plan for him to be a light sleeper, however.

Angus rustled, before fluttering his eyes open. Just like that, the sereness within him vanished.

His eyes widened and he leaned away from your touch.

"What are yo-"

You clasped your hand over his mouth. You held a finger to your mouth, signaling him to 'shut the fuck up'. His shocked expression faltered once he realized it was you. Warily, you dropped your hand.

"What are you doing awake?" Angus whispered.

"I couldn't sleep." You replied.

Or, you didn't want to sleep.

"How did you end up here?" He sat up, leaning towards you. He raised a questionable brow.

You honestly didn't have an answer.

"Would you like me to leave?" Your brows knitted together, lips curling into an offended frown.

"No, no! That's not what I mean. . ." He muttered. Even in the bare moonlight, the blush on his cheeks was bright.

"Please, stay." He whined, voice in a slightly higher pitch. You couldn't help the smirk crinkling upon your face. How could you say no to that?

"Sure." You relaxed onto the bed, leaning your back against the frame. He watched your every move. Which meant he was either completely hypnotized or trying to guess your next step. "So, why are you stuck here?"

"My mom and her boyfriend ditched me. I was supposed to be in Saint Kitts right now." He solemnly nodded, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. He rubbed his palms against his thighs. "What about you?"

You breathed out defeatedly, "Happens every winter break. Its sort of become my vacation now."

"That sucks." He mumbled.

"It's normal." You shrugged.

The conversation dissolved. The sound of the air conditioning hummed in the background. Wind howled against the windows. Angus's back cracked as he leaned back onto the bad, laying down horizontally. His legs stood bent off the bed, dangling a bit.

You laid back beside him. Your shoulders grazed each other, yet once again, neither of you budged. You turned your head to face him. His stare was fixated on the ceiling. The lights and shadows danced a helter-skelter choreography.

Your breath hitched as he turned to face you, fully laying on his side. He propped himself up on his shoulder. You were overwhelmed with adoration. Your mind wanted to keep him like this forever; picture perfect. But your body wanted to consume him in ways even abstinence couldn't hold off.

"Wanna make out?" You voiced.

Angus nearly suffocated with how long he held his breath. His jaw had dropped. Suddenly, the floor grew more interesting to him. He attempted to speak, but only muttered gibberish. After what felt like forever, you sat up and Angus mimicked your movement swiftly. He goggled at you expectantly.

"Yes or no?" You placed your hand under his stubbly chin, lifting his face closer to you.

"Yes." He gulped. He exhaled shakily against your lips.

You couldn't guess it. He was the first to lunge forward. He interlocked his lips with yours under a spell of dire neediness. His hand immediately traveled to the back of your neck, pulling you close and applying more pressure into the kiss. Cold and slim fingers which left you at a loss for thoughts. His nose nuzzled against yours. You lifted your hand to his cheek, cradling his face in your palm.

Angus swiped his tongue against your bottom lip. He wanted more. His fingers had tangled themselves in your hair, gripping hard enough to give you a jolt of satisfying pain. You smiled against his lips. You captured his lip between your teeth, biting down softly.

He pulled back. His face was flushed and adorned with pink and moist lips. His forehead rested against yours, curls tickling your skin.

"I though you said you didn't bite." Angus breathed. "Do I taste that good?"

What a flirty little fucker.

"Shut up." You snickered.

You clambered atop him, straddling his hips. A small groan escaped his mouth. His hands immediately traveled to your back. He pushed you close; chest to chest.

"You're pretty cute, Tully." You murmured close to his lips. He chased your words, neck craning up to angle his mouth against yours. ". . . and ballsy."

"You've had me worked up this whole week. Let me have this." He cupped your face within his hands.

His lips planted against yours like clockwork. Although, without the previous intense fervor. This was softer, more intimate. Your lips molded together gently. The kiss traveled all throughout your body. Your fingers and toes tingled alike. Your heart had his lip marks printed all over it. Wrinkles and cupid's bow indented and branded.

You pulled away, each of you catching your breath. That once shy, begging, baby animal expression had transformed into a lovesick daze with a shit-eating grin plastered like a cherry on top.

"You wanna go on a date? January? New year, new you. You could turn into us." You sat back up. Your hands interlocked with his, pulling him up with you.

Almost instinctively, he fit his hands onto your waist.

"I'd love to." Angus smiled. "But, we should be careful. We might be vulnerable to catching a case of the 'teen pregnancy.'"

You laughed. A little too loud. Angus covered your mouth quickly, both of your faces injected with fear. There's no way he could've heard it, right? Opposite side of the wing. That physics lesson on sound waves would've really come in handy right now if you paid attention.

A door was pulled open abruptly. Pitter patter rushed across the hall. Angus pushed you off, giving you one last swift peck, before you scurried over to your bed. You leaped onto it, covering yourself with the scratchy sheets. Your heart had pumped itself nearly to your throat.

"HEY-" Hunham cut himself off. You could only imagine the baffled look on his face. "Oh. Great, the Christmas spirits have come to visit me."

He waddled off into the hallway.

You smiled in disbelief. That worked. You felt satisfied; and giddy. You wanted to kick your feet and scream with delight. You just made out with Angus fucking Tully.

The excitement had exhausted you and you finally felt your first ounce of drowsiness. Although, you weren't opposed this time. You'd had enough time reading Angus's lips to invite some vivid imagery into your dreams. He was definitely the kind of book you wanted to read again.