⍟AlcaPzr⍟

Dylan Minnette ♧︎︎︎

Braeden Lemasters ♫︎

Cole Preston 𖠌

Stranger Things ☏︎

Clay Jensen ㋛︎

Isabella Elei 𑁍

Matty Healy 𓃠

Various✫

Mcr ☠︎︎

Kinktober

Advent calendar 🎄

You paced the small dorm room, heart hammering against your ribs as you clutched your phone in one hand. The words you’d rehearsed a hundred times echoed in your head: “Allie, I’ve been in love with you for months. I know it’s sudden, but I can’t keep pretending anymore.” Your fingers trembled as you imagined saying them out loud. She was your best friend, your person. The one who made every late-night study session feel like an adventure and every laugh feel like home. You’d waited long enough. Today was the day.

A soft knock at the door made you jump. Before you could even answer, the handle turned and Allie stepped inside, her cheeks flushed and her smile brighter than you’d seen in weeks. She was practically glowing, blonde hair a little messy like she’d been running her hands through it.

“Hey, you,” she said, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a second. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “God, I’ve been dying to tell you this all day.”

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile as you set your phone down. Your confession could wait a minute. She looked too happy. “Tell me what?”

Allie bit her lip, then practically bounced across the room and grabbed both of your hands. “Dean and I… we’re official. Like, boyfriend-girlfriend official. He asked me last night after the game and I said yes. I can’t believe it’s real.”

The words hit you like ice water down your spine. Dean. Dean Di Laurentis. The charming, cocky hockey player who’d been circling Allie for weeks. Your stomach twisted, but you kept your face neutral, squeezing her hands back even as something sharp and ugly flared in your chest.

“Wow,” you managed, voice steadier than you felt. “That’s… that’s great, Allie. Really.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. “I know it’s fast, but he makes me so happy. Like, stupid happy.”

You hugged her back, breathing in her familiar scent, your heart aching with every beat. The confession you’d been ready to spill died on your tongue. How could you say anything now?

You tried to match her energy, but the knot in your stomach only tightened. The image of Dean’s cocky smirk and those stupid broad shoulders flashed in your mind, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out laced with something sharper than you intended.

“That’s… wow. Dean Di Laurentis, huh?” You forced a little laugh, dropping her hands gently so you could cross your arms over your chest. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Allie. I’m happy for you. But you know how those hockey guys are. Total manwhores. They’ll fuck anything with a pulse and a short skirt. One minute they’re all charming and ‘baby, you’re the only one,’ and the next they’re ghosting you for the next puck bunny who looks their way.”

Allie blinked, her smile faltering just a little. “Hey, Dean’s not like that—”

“Oh, come on,” you cut in, the jealousy burning hotter now, pushing you forward. You leaned against your desk, trying to look casual even as your voice dripped with shade. “They’re all the same. Popular hockey couple goals, right? Everyone on campus is gonna be talking about how perfect you two look together. The star player and the gorgeous blonde. So cute. So #relationshipgoals. Meanwhile the rest of us are just… here.”

You rolled your eyes, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t stop. Part of you wanted her to argue, to defend him less, to maybe just maybe look at you the way you’d been looking at her for months.

Allie tilted her head, studying you with a mix of confusion and concern. “Where is this coming from? You’ve never had a problem with Dean before.”

Before Allie could press you further, a familiar deep voice cut through the room from the doorway.

“Damn, I knew I smelled a jealous lesbian from down the hall. Just followed the scent and here we are.”

You both whipped around. Dean Di Laurentis leaned against the doorframe like he owned the place, that signature smirk plastered on his stupidly handsome face. He looked freshly showered after practice, hair still damp, wearing a Briar hoodie that stretched across his broad chest. His green eyes danced with amusement as they flicked between you and Allie.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he added casually, stepping inside and closing the door behind him with a soft click. “But these doors are thin as fuck, and you two weren’t exactly quiet. Manwhores who fuck anything with a pulse? Ouch. That one hurt a little, babe.”

Your face burned. “I’m not jealous,” you shot back quickly, crossing your arms tighter. “You’re imagining things. I was just being honest. Hockey players have a reputation for a reason.”

Allie’s eyes widened for a second, then she let out a soft giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. The sound was light and way too affectionate. “Oh my god… you are jealous. That’s actually adorable.”

Dean’s smirk deepened as he moved closer, glancing at Allie with clear heat in his gaze before turning it on you. “See? Even your best friend thinks so. Cute little jealous girl throwing shade at couple goals.” He tilted his head, voice dropping lower. “Didn’t know I was stepping on someone’s territory here.”

The air in the small dorm room suddenly felt thicker, heavier. Allie was still smiling, cheeks pink, while Dean watched you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I’m not jealous,” you insisted again, voice sharper this time even as your heart pounded so hard you were sure they could hear it. You took a small step back until your thighs hit the edge of your desk. “I’m just looking out for my friend, okay? That’s what best friends do. I don’t want you getting hurt by some cocky hockey player who—”

“Baby, please,” Allie interrupted softly, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. Her eyes were warm, knowing, and a little amused. “We’ve been dancing around this for months. I’ve always known you’re in love with me.”

Your breath caught. Before you could deny it again, Allie cupped your face with both hands and kissed you.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant. Her lips were warm and sure, tasting like cherry lip gloss and something sweeter, and for a second the whole world narrowed to just her mouth moving against yours. You froze, then melted into it with a quiet, surprised sound, your hands instinctively gripping her waist.

When she pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against yours, both of you breathing harder, Dean’s low, rough voice broke the silence.

“Wow…” He let out a stunned laugh, eyes dark and hungry as he watched the two of you. “This is definitely hotter than fucking porn.”

Allie giggled against your lips, glancing over at him with a playful spark in her eyes, while you stood there dazed, lips tingling and cheeks burning.

You pulled back from Allie’s kiss, dazed and breathless, your lips still tingling. Your brain was short-circuiting, but the stubborn jealousy refused to let go completely. You glanced between them, heart racing.

“Okay… okay,” you muttered, trying to regain some control. “That doesn’t change my opinion about Dean. He’s still a manwhore. If we did a census around campus, more than half the girls here have probably fucked him at some point.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, but instead of getting offended, that wicked, confident smirk returned full force. He stepped closer, crowding you gently against the desk until his tall frame loomed over you. His voice dropped into that low, velvet tone that made panties drop across Briar University.

“Well then… let me change your opinion,” he murmured, green eyes locked on yours. “And let me change that census while I’m at it.”

Before you could fire back another retort, Dean cupped the back of your neck and kissed you.

It was nothing like Allie’s sweet, knowing kiss. This one was hungry, dominant, and filthy. His mouth claimed yours with practiced ease, tongue teasing your bottom lip before sliding inside, hot and confident. One of his big hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body, and fuck — he smelled like fresh soap and something dangerously masculine.

You tried to stay stubborn. You really did.

But damn it… the man could kiss. Against your better judgment, you found yourself kissing him back, your hands fisting in his hoodie as a surprised, needy little sound escaped your throat.

When he finally pulled back, lips wet and smirk even cockier, Allie was watching the two of you with dark, heated eyes and a soft bite to her lower lip.

“See?” Dean rasped, thumb brushing your flushed cheek. “Not such a manwhore if I can make you melt like that.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore.

The second Dean pulled away, something inside you snapped. All the months of wanting Allie, the jealousy, the frustration, and the sudden overwhelming heat between the three of you exploded. You grabbed Allie first, kissing her hard and greedy, tongues sliding together. Then you turned to Dean, pulling him down by his hoodie and kissing him just as hungrily, biting his bottom lip.

You went back and forth between them like you were starving messy, desperate, greedy kisses that left all three of you breathing raggedly.

Allie let out a soft, delighted giggle against your mouth. “God, look at you… so greedy for both of us,” she whispered, clearly turned on by your sudden hunger.

She dipped her head and started kissing down your neck, warm lips and teasing little nips that made your knees weak. You moaned quietly, tilting your head to give her better access.

Dean watched the two of you for a second, eyes blazing with lust.

“Jesus Christ, thank you God,” he groaned, voice thick. “I owe you one, man. You know how much I love lesbians.”

While Allie sucked a sensitive spot on your neck that made you shiver, Dean reached down and started pushing his sweatpants and boxers down his hips. His hard cock sprang free, thick and already leaking at the tip. He stroked himself slowly as he watched Allie mark your neck and you squirm between them.

Your eyes kept drifting down to Dean’s cock as he stroked it lazily, thick, long, and flushed. You couldn’t help it. Leaning closer to Allie while she kissed your neck, you whispered hotly against her ear, voice shaky with arousal:

“Fuck, Allie… he has the most beautiful, biggest dick I’ve ever seen.”Dean let out a low, amused chuckle right behind you.

“I’m listening, baby,” he said, voice rough with satisfaction. “Keep talking like that and I’m gonna get even harder.”

Allie giggled softly against your skin, then slowly dropped to her knees in front of you, looking up with dark, playful eyes. Her fingers slid under the hem of your blouse and started pulling it up, agonizingly slow, exposing your stomach, then your bra, and finally tugging it over your head and tossing it aside.

She ran her hands up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts as she looked up at you again.“You wanna try it?” she asked, voice sweet but filthy, glancing sideways at Dean’s impressive length. “I don’t mind sharing.”

Your breath hitched, heart hammering wildly as you stood there in just your bra, Allie on her knees in front of you, and Dean watching hungrily with his cock in his hand. You didn’t even think about it. Your knees hit the floor almost automatically, eyes locked on Dean’s thick cock as you reached for him.

Before your lips could wrap around him, Dean’s big hand grabbed your jaw firmly, tilting your face up. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, eyes dark with lust and amusement.

“Look at you… on your knees so fast,” he murmured. Then he tapped his heavy cock against your cheek once, twice, then a little harder dirty, wet slaps that made your pussy throb. “These are for being such a fucking brat earlier. Talking shit about me being a manwhore while you’re dripping for my dick.”

You moaned shamelessly at the filthy treatment, the sound needy and desperate.

Allie watched with hooded eyes, clearly loving every second. She reached behind you and unhooked your bra with skilled fingers, letting it fall away and exposing your breasts to the cool air of the dorm. Your nipples hardened instantly under their combined gazes.

While you knelt there, face still held by Dean, Allie stood up just enough to start stripping herself — peeling off her top, then shimmying out of her jeans, revealing smooth skin and pretty pink lace panties.

“God, you look so good like this,” Allie whispered, voice full of heat as she ran her fingers through your hair.

Dean tapped his cock against your lips this time. “Open up, brat.”

You opened your mouth obediently and took Dean’s thick cock between your lips, sucking him eagerly. He was big — stretching your mouth in the most delicious way — and you moaned around him as you started bobbing your head, taking him deeper with every pass.

“Fuck… that’s it,” Dean groaned, one hand gently stroking your hair while the other reached for Allie. “Such a good girl sucking my cock like you were made for it.”

Allie smiled and moved closer, dropping back down to her knees beside you. She leaned in and started playing with Dean’s heavy balls, massaging them with soft fingers while you worked his shaft with your mouth. The wet, obscene sounds filled the small dorm room.

Dean’s head fell back for a second, a deep moan rumbling from his chest. “Look at you two… my pretty girls. So fucking perfect. Sharing my cock like this? I’m in heaven.”

While you sucked him harder, hollowing your cheeks, your hand slid between Allie’s thighs. You pushed her lace panties aside and found her soaked clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles over the sensitive bud. Allie gasped softly, hips twitching toward your touch, her fingers tightening around Dean’s balls.

“Shit — yes, just like that,” Dean praised, fingers tightening gently in both your hair and Allie’s. “Keep teasing her, baby. Make her nice and wet for us.”

Dean looked down at both of you with dark, hungry eyes, his voice rough with lust.“Kiss each other around my cock,” he ordered, voice low and commanding. “I want to feel those pretty lips on me while you make out.”

You and Allie didn’t hesitate. You both leaned in, lips meeting sloppily right over the thick head of his dick. The kiss was wet, messy, and filthy hot tongues sliding against each other and over his sensitive skin, tasting precum and each other at the same time. Spit dripped down his shaft as you kissed greedily, moaning into each other’s mouths.

You kept your fingers moving between Allie’s thighs, rubbing her swollen clit in tight little circles. Allie whimpered and moaned into the kiss, her hips rocking desperately against your hand.“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Dean groaned, threading his fingers through both your hairs. “Look at you two… sloppy fucking kisses on my cock. You’re both so perfect.”

He watched for a moment longer, then looked at Allie with a wicked smirk.“Touch her pussy, baby,” he told Allie, voice thick. “I want you to feel how wet our jealous little brat is right now.”

Her hand slid down your stomach and into your pants, fingers finding your soaked pussy instantly. Two fingers rubbed over your slick folds before circling your clit, matching the rhythm you were using on her.

You moaned loudly around Dean’s cock, the sound vibrating against him. Allie whimpered into your mouth as you kept stroking her clit, both of you trembling and moaning while you kissed messily over his throbbing dick.

Dean groaned deeply, watching the filthy scene with heavy-lidded eyes.“Don’t forget what you’re doing, girls,” he rasped, voice thick with pleasure. “Keep those pretty mouths on my cock.”

He pushed both your heads down gently but firmly, guiding you back to his shaft. You and Allie obeyed immediately, licking and kissing along his length with even sloppier, wetter enthusiasm while your hands kept working each other’s pussies. The room filled with the sounds of wet kisses, soft moans, and heavy breathing. You curled your fingers inside Allie, searching for that perfect spot, and when you found it she let out a broken moan against your mouth. You rubbed it relentlessly, fast and firm, while your thumb kept working her clit.

Allie came hard.Her whole body tensed, thighs shaking as she cried out, pussy clenching around your fingers. She looked absolutely beautiful when she came — flushed cheeks, lips parted, eyes glassy with pleasure. You couldn’t resist. You pulled your fingers out and immediately kissed her deeply, hungry and passionate, tasting her moans.

Your other hand wrapped around Dean’s thick cock, stroking him fast and tight while you made out with Allie.

Dean watched the whole thing with dark, burning eyes.“Fuck, that’s it,” he praised, voice rough. “Look at you making your girl cum so pretty. Such a good little slut for us.” He groaned as your hand twisted around his cock. “Both of you… my greedy, filthy girls. One cumming on your fingers while the other jerks me off like she needs my load. So fucking perfect.”

He caressed your hair and Allie’s, breathing hard as pleasure built.

Dean’s breathing grew ragged, his hips thrusting into your hand as you kept stroking him while kissing Allie.“Fuck— I’m gonna cum,” he groaned.

You and Allie pulled back just enough. Dean gripped his cock and pumped it a few times before he came with a deep, guttural moan. Thick ropes of cum landed across both of your chests warm, messy streaks painting your tits and Allie’s. You both moaned softly at the filthy sight.

Dean took a moment to catch his breath, then smiled that lazy, satisfied smirk. He bent down, scooped you up easily with one arm and Allie with the other, carrying you both toward your bed like you weighed nothing.

He laid you down gently on the sheets, then dropped between you, pulling both of you close against his chest. His fingers lazily smeared his cum over your breasts, marking you both.

“You know…” he said, voice still husky, “I might not mind if this becomes a regular thing. This was way too fucking hot to be a one-time deal.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple, then Allie’s. “But since I’m trying not to be a manwhore anymore… how about we make it official? A throuple. You two are stuck with me now.”

Allie giggled softly, cuddling into his side while her hand reached over to intertwine with yours.

The bass thumped through the crowded frat house like a second heartbeat, the air thick with beer, sweat, and pure triumph. Briar had just crushed Atlanta in the final, and Garrett Graham had been the fucking king of the ice. Everyone knew it. He’d scored the game-winner in overtime, and now the entire campus seemed crammed into this one house to celebrate him.

You were buzzing half from the shots Allie kept handing you, half from the overwhelming pride swelling in your chest. Your boyfriend had done that. Your Garrett. The man who still looked at you like you hung the damn moon even after two years together.

“C’mon, get up there!” Allie laughed, already half-drunk and hyped as hell. She laced her fingers together to give you a boost.

The wooden table in the middle of the living room groaned under the weight of empty cups as you climbed up with her help, your short black dress riding dangerously high on your thighs. The crowd cheered at the sight of you up there, but you raised both arms, demanding their full attention.

“LISTEN UP, YOU DRUNKEN BASTARDS!” you shouted, voice carrying over the music. People turned, phones already coming out. “MY BOYFRIEND FUCKED THOSE ATLANTA BITCHES ON THE ICE TONIGHT… AND HE’S GONNA FUCK ME NEXT! SO GIVE ME A FUCKING OVATION FOR GARRETT GRAHAM!”

The room exploded. Cheers, whistles, and roars shook the walls. Someone started chanting Garrett’s name. Cups raised in the air. The energy was electric, wild, and completely his just how you liked it.

From across the room, Garrett watched you with that slow, devastating smile, hazel eyes locked on you like you were the only person in the universe. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower he’d taken after the game, and the tight black t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders did nothing to hide how fucking good he looked.

He didn’t look embarrassed. He looked proud. Hungry. In love.

Dean, standing right beside him with a beer in hand, barked out a laugh. “Bro, if that was Allie up there I’d already have her ass over my shoulder and halfway to a bedroom. You’re really just gonna let her—”

“Yeah,” Garrett cut him off, voice low and warm, eyes never leaving you. “Let her have this. Look how happy she is. She’s proud of me. That’s my girl up there screaming my name like that… she’s the whole reason I played like my life depended on it tonight.”

He took a slow sip of his drink, but his gaze was pure heat. The kind that promised he’d absolutely deliver on every filthy word you’d just yelled.

You caught his stare from the table and grinned, cheeks flushed, heart racing.

The crowd was still losing their minds around you, but all you could focus on was the way Garrett was looking at you like he was already imagining exactly how he was going to ruin you later.

Allie tugged at your leg, laughing. “Babe, you’re insane and I love you. Get down before you break your neck!”

You let her help you off the table, legs a little shaky from adrenaline and alcohol you barely had both feet on the ground before the crowd parted and Garrett was right there. Strong hands caught your waist, steadying you as the adrenaline made your legs feel like jelly.

Before you could say anything, he pulled you flush against his chest and kissed you like he’d been starving for it. Deep, hungry, tongue sliding against yours in front of half the fucking party. His fingers dug into your hips, possessive and warm, and you melted into him instantly.

When he finally let you breathe, you grinned up at him, cheeks burning, heart hammering.

“I love you so fucking much,” you breathed against his mouth, “and I’m so fucking proud of you, baby. You were incredible tonight.”

Garrett’s eyes darkened with heat and something softer, deeper. He cupped your face with one big hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip, and kissed you again slower this time, but no less filthy. A slow glide of tongues that had your toes curling in your shoes. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Fuck, I love you too,” he murmured, voice rough and low just for you. “Hearing you scream that up there… telling everyone I’m gonna fuck you next?” He let out a dark little chuckle that sent heat straight between your legs. “You’re insane. And you’re all mine.”

His hands slid down to squeeze your ass shamelessly, not caring who saw. You could feel him already half-hard against your stomach, the thick outline pressing through his jeans.

“You’ve been hyping me up all season, wearing my jersey, screaming louder than anyone in the stands,” he continued, lips brushing your ear. “You deserve to feel so fucking good tonight, baby. Let me take you upstairs. Let me thank you properly… with my mouth or my cock whatever you choose. I want to taste how proud you are of me.”

He nipped your earlobe, then soothed it with his tongue, voice dropping even lower.

“Say yes and I’ll eat this pretty pussy until you’re shaking. I’ve been thinking about burying my face between your thighs since the final buzzer.”

Your core clenched at his words. Garrett had always been vocal, but tonight he was extra filthy—fueled by victory, pride, and pure need for you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes blazing with that intense focus he usually saved for the ice. Waiting. Patient, but clearly ready to drag you upstairs the second you gave the word.

You bit your lip, looking up at him with that mischievous, horny little smile he loved so much. The music pulsed around you, but the rest of the party had faded into background noise. All you could feel was the heat of his body and the way his eyes devoured you.

“What do you think?” you whispered, voice sweet but dripping with challenge. You grabbed his wrist and slowly guided his big hand under the hem of your short dress, right there in the middle of the crowded room.

Garrett’s breath hitched the second his fingers brushed your bare, soaked pussy. No panties. Just slick, warm, dripping arousal coating his fingertips as he cupped you possessively.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned low in his throat, eyes flashing with raw hunger. Two thick fingers slid through your folds, teasing your entrance before circling your swollen clit. “You’re fucking drenched. Walking around my victory party with this pretty cunt bare and dripping for me? You really are trying to kill me tonight.”

You whimpered softly as he pressed one finger just inside you, enough to make your thighs tremble. He curled it slowly, perfectly, like he already knew exactly how to make you fall apart.

Garrett pulled his hand free, brought his glistening fingers to his mouth, and sucked them clean with a filthy moan that sent another rush of wetness down your thighs.

That was it.

Without another word, he bent down, grabbed you like you weighed nothing, and tossed you over his broad shoulder. One strong arm locked around the backs of your thighs, your dress riding up so high your bare ass was practically on display for anyone looking.

You let out a surprised laugh that quickly turned into a needy moan when his free hand boldly palmed your exposed cheek and squeezed hard. “Garrett!” you squealed, half-laughing, half-turned on beyond belief as he started carrying you through the crowd toward the stairs.

People whistled and cheered as you passed. Dean shouted something like “Fucking finally!” but Garrett didn’t even glance at them. His focus was locked on you on the way your soaked pussy was inches from his face, on how you squirmed over his shoulder, on the little whimpers you couldn’t hold back.

He took the stairs two at a time, one hand still gripping your ass, fingers dangerously close to where you needed him most.

“You’re gonna be screaming my name all night, baby,” he promised, voice dark and rough as he kicked open the door to an empty bedroom at the end of the hall. “I’m not stopping until this pussy is ruined and you can’t walk straight tomorrow.”

The second the door clicked shut, Garrett spun you off his shoulder and kissed you like he was dying of hunger.

It wasn’t sweet. It was desperate, messy, and filthy. His mouth claimed yours, tongue fucking into you deep while his hands roamed everywhere squeezing your ass, sliding up your dress, gripping your waist like he couldn’t decide which part of you he wanted to devour first. You moaned into his mouth, fingers threading through his hair, tugging hard the way he liked.

He walked you backwards until your knees hit the bed, then tossed you onto it with zero effort. You bounced once on the mattress, dress bunched up around your hips, legs spread, pussy completely exposed and glistening. Garrett stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like you were his favorite meal.

“Wait, wait—” he said suddenly, voice rough with lust. He held up one finger, that cocky little smirk tugging at his lips. “Let me put on some music to get inspired.”

You watched, breathless and amused, as he grabbed his phone, scrolled for a second, and hit play. The opening guitar riff of Cherry Pie by Warrant blasted through the room.

You let out a surprised laugh. “Again? That song?”

Garrett chuckled, low and warm, the sound vibrating straight to your core. He tossed the phone onto the dresser and crawled onto the bed, hovering over you with that devastating blue-eyed smirk.

“What can I say?” He leaned down, brushing his nose along your jaw. “It keeps me inspired. Every time I hear it I think about spreading your legs and burying my face in that sweet pussy until you’re dripping down my chin.”

He kissed you again, slower this time but no less hungry, swallowing the moan that escaped your throat. His hand slid up your inner thigh, fingers teasingly close to where you were aching for him, but not quite touching yet.

“You looked so fucking hot on that table tonight,” he murmured against your lips between kisses, “yelling that I was gonna fuck you. Got me so hard I could barely think straight.” He nipped your bottom lip. “Now I’m gonna make good on that promise, baby.”

His kisses trailed down your neck as the guitar solo kicked in, his big body pressing you deeper into the mattress. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, thick and insistent against your bare thigh.

He kissed, licked, and sucked along your throat with filthy hunger, teeth grazing that sensitive spot that always made you shiver. One of his hands pinned your wrist above your head while the other tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders, exposing your tits.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, voice thick. He kissed lower, lips brushing over your collarbone before latching onto one of your nipples. He sucked hard, tongue flicking and swirling, while his hand kneaded the other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers until you were arching off the bed with a broken moan.

“Garrett…” you whimpered, already impatient. Your free hand fisted in his hair, trying to push him lower. Your pussy was throbbing, dripping onto the sheets, aching for his mouth. “Please… stop teasing. I need you.”

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks straight to your core. Instead of moving faster, he took his time on your other nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth with obscene wet sounds while his hand slid down your stomach, fingertips brushing just above your clit before pulling away again.

“You’re so fucking impatient tonight, baby,” he murmured, kissing down the valley between your breasts. “I just won the championship and my girl screamed to the whole party that I’m gonna fuck her… You really think I’m rushing this?”

He looked up at you, eyes dark with lust, lips shiny. “I’ve been dreaming about eating this pussy all night. I’m gonna take my time.”

Still, he kept moving lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, tongue dipping into your belly button for a second just to make you squirm. Your hips kept bucking up, desperate for friction, but he held you down with one strong hand on your hip, keeping you right where he wanted you.

“Garrett, please,” you begged, voice shaky. “I’m so wet it hurts.”

He groaned at your words, finally settling between your spread thighs. His broad shoulders pushed your legs wider apart as he stared at your dripping pussy like it was the best thing he’d ever seen.

“Jesus Christ, baby…” He licked his lips. “Look how fucking pretty and sloppy you are for me.”

Garrett’s breath ghosted over your soaked pussy as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss right on your mound, right above your clit.

Then another. And another. Teasing you mercilessly while the guitar riffs kept playing in the background.

He moved lower, kissing along the crease of your thigh, then the other, before finally pressing his lips to your slick outer folds. Soft, reverent kisses at first almost worshipful like he was savoring the moment. Then he inhaled deeply, nose brushing against your wetness as he breathed you in.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “You smell so fucking good. Sweet and horny… all for me.”

The sound that left your throat was pure need. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling hard as you tried to grind against his face. Garrett let out a low, filthy chuckle that vibrated against your pussy.

“Easy, greedy girl,” he murmured, lips brushing your folds with every word. “I’ve got you.”

He kissed your pussy again, slower this time, dragging his lips up and down your slit, coating them in your slick. He licked once, long and flat from your entrance all the way to your clit, then pulled back just to look at how wet you were, eyes half-lidded with pure lust.

You yanked his hair harder, hips rolling desperately. “Garrett, please stop fucking teasing me.”

He moaned at the sharp tug on his hair, clearly loving the way you were manhandling him. Without warning he dove in, mouth latching onto your pussy with hungry, filthy enthusiasm. His tongue licked broad stripes through your folds, savoring every drop of your arousal like it was his favorite flavor in the world.

“Mmhh— fuck, you taste even better than you smell,” he growled between long, messy licks. “So fucking wet… dripping all over my tongue.”

Your back arched off the bed as he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking fast and perfect while two thick fingers teased your entrance. You pulled his hair even tighter, thighs shaking around his head, and Garrett groaned loudly against your cunt, the vibration making you cry out.

“No,” you gasped, yanking his head up just enough to meet his eyes. “No fingers. Just your tongue, Garrett. Please.”

A slow, wicked smirk spread across his shiny, slick-covered mouth. His eyes were dark with pure lust as he looked up at you from between your thighs.“Your wish, my command, dollie,” he murmured, voice low and rough.

Then he dove back in like a man on a mission.

Garrett flattened his tongue and licked a long, slow stripe up your entire pussy, collecting every drop of your slick before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. He sucked it into his mouth like it was his favorite piece of candy gentle at first, then harder, rhythmic pulses that had your eyes rolling back.

“Fuck— yes, just like that,” you moaned, hips bucking against his face.

He groaned loudly against your cunt, the sound vibrating straight through your clit as he sucked and licked with messy enthusiasm. His hands gripped your thighs hard, spreading you wider so he could bury his face deeper. He was making obscene, wet sounds slurping, sucking, humming with pleasure like he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

Every time you pulled his hair, he sucked your clit harder, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue before sucking it again, over and over, until your legs started shaking uncontrollably around his head.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” he panted between long, hungry licks, his voice muffled against your dripping pussy. “Keep dripping for me, baby. I could eat this pretty cunt for hours.”

He sealed his mouth around your clit again, sucking with perfect pressure while his tongue worked you relentlessly. Your slick was all over his chin, his lips, even the tip of his nose, but Garrett didn’t care. If anything, it seemed to make him hungrier. He moaned into you like a starving man finally getting fed, completely lost in the taste and feel of you.

His tongue licked you everywhere: long, messy strokes through your dripping folds, circling your clit, dipping inside your tight hole to fuck you with it, then dragging back up to lap at every drop of slick that kept pouring out of you.

You were a moaning, trembling mess beneath him, hips grinding against his face as Cherry Pie played on repeat in the background.

“You really enjoy eating pussy, don’t you?” you gasped between broken moans, fingers yanking hard at his hair.

Garrett pulled back just enough to look up at you, lips swollen and glistening, chin shiny with your juices. His eyes were glazed with pure lust.

“It’s my favorite meal,” he growled, voice hoarse and dripping with hunger. “And yours is the best I’ve ever had, baby.”

Without warning, he gathered saliva in his mouth and spit directly onto your swollen clit. The wet sound was filthy and hot as hell. You cried out, thighs twitching, but before you could even process it, Garrett dove back in like a man possessed.

He devoured you with renewed intensity sucking your clit hard, licking up his own spit mixed with your slick, then spitting on you again just to watch it drip down your folds before he licked it all up.

The obscene, wet sounds of him eating you filled the room louder than the music. He was moaning continuously into your pussy, completely addicted, tongue working faster and sloppier as he chased your pleasure like it was his own.

“Fuck— Garrett!” you whimpered, back arching sharply off the bed.

He gripped your ass with both hands, tilting your hips up so he could bury his tongue even deeper, fucking you with it while his nose rubbed perfectly against your clit.

He was drunk on you messy, greedy, and so fucking good at it that your vision was starting to blur.

“Oh fuck— Garrett, I’m close, babe,” you moaned, voice cracking. “I’m gonna cum—”

The words only seemed to make him hungrier.

Garrett let out a deep, needy groan against your pussy and doubled down. He didn’t slow down. If anything, he got more eager, more desperate, like your pleasure was feeding him. His tongue kept working your clit in fast, perfect circles while he sucked rhythmically, messy and loud, his hands gripping your ass so tightly you knew you’d have marks tomorrow.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled against your clit, barely pulling away long enough to speak. “Cum on my tongue. Let me taste it. I want every fucking drop.”

You were shaking, thighs clamped around his head, fingers yanking his hair so hard it had to hurt, but Garrett loved it. He moaned even louder, the vibration pushing you right to the edge. He kept licking and sucking without mercy, tongue flicking relentlessly over your swollen clit while he buried two fingers deep inside you this time, curling them perfectly against that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes.

You tried to warn him again, but all that came out was a broken cry.

“I’m— fuck, I’m cumming—!”

Your orgasm crashed over you hard. Your whole body tensed, back arching violently off the bed as you came with a loud, shameless moan of his name. Garrett didn’t stop for a second. He kept licking and sucking through every pulse, every tremble, drinking down everything you gave him with filthy, satisfied groans.

He looked wrecked face shiny with your cum, eyes dark with lust but he still kept going, gentler now but no less hungry, licking you through the aftershocks like he couldn’t bear to pull away.

“Oh fuck, Garrett… you’re so fucking good.”

He hummed happily against your oversensitive pussy, clearly pleased with the praise. Instead of pulling away, he kept licking you slowly, gently, cleaning up every trace of your orgasm with long, lazy strokes of his tongue. Soft, thorough licks that sent little aftershocks through your body.

“Mmm, that’s my good girl,” he murmured, voice low and warm, lips brushing against your slick folds as he spoke. “You came so fucking hard for me. Tasted so sweet, baby. I could live between these thighs.”

He gave your clit a soft, affectionate suck, then licked lower, pushing his tongue inside you to drink up the rest of your release. Every slow pass of his tongue was accompanied by more praise, murmured right against your soaked skin.

“Look at this pretty pussy… still dripping for me even after you came.”

Another long lick.

“So fucking wet. So perfect.”

A gentle kiss to your swollen clit.

“My favorite fucking meal. You did so good, dollie. Let me clean you up nice and slow.”

You whimpered, oversensitive but too blissed out to stop him. Your fingers loosened in his hair, now stroking through the messy strands as he continued his gentle worship. Garrett took his time, licking and kissing every inch of your pussy like he was savoring the taste of your orgasm. His big hands caressed your thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles while his mouth stayed busy.

He looked up at you between your legs, hazel eyes dark and full of adoration, chin and lips still shiny with you.

The green room after the soundcheck was hazy with leftover smoke and the low hum of amps still cooling down. Braeden was sprawled on the worn leather couch, towel around his neck, hair still damp from the set. Dylan and Cole were both grinning like idiots, phones in hand, while the rest of the crew—tour manager, guitar tech, a couple of the sound guys—huddled around the coffee table like they were about to drop the wildest news of the tour.

“Brae, dude. You gotta see this shit,” Dylan said, barely holding back a laugh as he tossed his phone into Braeden’s lap. “Tumblr account. Been blowing up in the fandom corners. She’s writing about you. Like… filthy you.”

Braeden raised an eyebrow, wiping sweat from his forehead. “What, another thirst account? I’ve seen the edits, man. Not that serious.”

Cole shook his head, leaning over the back of the couch. “Nah, bro. This one’s next level. She writes these long, nasty fanfics. Like she knows shit about you only someone paying way too much attention would catch. The way you bite your lip when you’re focused on a riff, how you stretch after shows, the little growl you do when you’re pissed at the monitors… it’s like she’s been in the room with us.”

One of the crew guys snorted. “Looks like she’s been spying on your ass. Read the latest one. We screenshotted the good parts.”

Braeden sat up slowly, thumb scrolling through the blog. The username was something unassuming, but the content… Jesus. Explicit, detailed scenes of him pinning girls down backstage, filthy dirty talk, sweat-slick skin, the way he’d supposedly choke and praise at the same time. The latest post was practically dripping: him fresh off stage, still buzzing with adrenaline, dragging some lucky fan into the tour bus and fucking her raw while the rest of the band was none the wiser.

His throat tightened. A slow heat crawled up the back of his neck.

“This is… insane,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop scrolling. His eyes lingered on a particularly dirty paragraph describing his hands, the veins, the way he’d talk someone through it while buried deep. “She wrote all this?”

Dylan clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, and she’s got hundreds. Some of them are straight-up obsessed. We thought it was funny at first but… she’s good. Too good. Like she studied you.”

Cole smirked. “Interview vibes mixed with pure smut. She caught that thing you do with your voice when you’re trying to stay quiet in hotel rooms. Wild.”

Braeden’s grip on the phone tightened. He could feel his cock twitch traitorously in his sweats just from reading a few lines. The fantasy was too vivid—too close. The thought of some girl out there getting herself off to him like this, writing every nasty little thing she wanted him to do to her… it was doing dangerous things to his head.

“Delete it from my brain, guys,” he said, voice a little rougher than he meant. “We’ve got a show tomorrow. I don’t need to be thinking about random Tumblr girl’s wet dreams.”

The crew laughed, but Dylan’s grin turned knowing. “Too late, man. You’re already obsessed. We can see it on your face.”

Braeden tossed the phone back, but the images stayed burned behind his eyes. Sweat, moans, his name on her tongue, legs wrapped around him while he fucked her like he owned her.

He rubbed a hand over his face.“Fuck.”

Later that night, back in his hotel room, Braeden couldn’t let it go.

The rest of the crew had gone out for drinks, but he’d begged off with some lame excuse about needing sleep. Instead, he was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, laptop open, room lit only by the blue glow of the screen. His hair was still messy from the shower, towel slung low on his hips, and his heart was already beating faster than it had any right to.

He typed the username from the screenshots into Tumblr’s search bar.

Your blog loaded instantly.

The header was subtle — just a soft photo of hands and a guitar pick — but the content was anything but.

Post after post of pure filth centered on him. Braeden Lemasters. Him.

He scrolled slowly, breath catching as he read the titles:

“Tour Bus Trap”

“Sex On The Beach”

“Found Love After Getting Laid”

His cock twitched hard under the towel just from skimming the first few lines. You wrote with this raw, desperate detail that made it feel like you’d been watching him for years. The way you described the vein that popped on his forearm when he gripped the mic stand. The low rasp in his voice when he was turned on. How he’d pin someone against the wall and growl right against their ear:

“You’ve been thinking about this cock all night, haven’t you, baby? Writing all that dirty shit about me… now you’re gonna fucking feel it.”

Braeden’s hand moved on its own, palming himself through the towel as he clicked into one of your longer fics. It was written in second person — you. Like you were talking directly to yourself, imagining it was you he was destroying.

He read the scene where “you” snuck into the green room after a show. How he’d find you there, already soaked, and fuck you over the couch while the crew was right outside the door. The way you described him pulling your hair, spitting filthy praise, and coming deep inside you while calling you his dirty little secret.

“Fuck…” Braeden muttered, voice wrecked. He was fully hard now, towel pushed aside, hand slowly stroking his cock as he kept reading. Every new paragraph made it worse.

You wrote about the way he’d look at you — that intense, half-lidded stare he got when he was focused. The sweat dripping down his chest after a show. How he’d be gentle one second and then absolutely feral the next, biting your shoulder while he pounded into you and whispered how no one else could ever take him like you do.

He opened another tab. Then another. He started saving your posts. Screenshotting the nastiest lines. His breathing was ragged now, thumb scrolling faster, eyes devouring every word you’d written about him using you, owning you, breaking you in the best possible way.

The obsession hit him like a drug. Who the fuck were you? How did you know these things? The little details about his hands, his voice, the way he got quiet and intense right before he came… it felt too real. Like you’d been in his head. Or worse — like you’d been in his bed.

Braeden leaned back against the headboard, stroking himself harder, eyes glued to the screen. He was imagining it now. Imagining finding you. Dragging you somewhere private and turning every single filthy thing you wrote into reality.

He whispered under his breath, voice low and rough:

“You have no idea what you just started, baby…”

The next morning the crew gathered in the hotel conference room for a quick production meeting. Braeden showed up looking a little too put-together for someone who’d barely slept — fresh black tee, hair still damp, eyes sharp with something restless behind them. He waited until the usual tour talk died down before clearing his throat.

“Hey, so… about that Tumblr account we saw yesterday,” he started, keeping his voice casual. “The writer’s clearly got a big following. Her stuff’s blowing up in the fandom. I was thinking… maybe we could reach out? Set up an interview or something. Like, a fan-creator spotlight. It’d be a good way to connect with the fans on a deeper level, show we appreciate the community. Plus she’s helping grow the fanbase with all those posts. We should thank her properly.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, trying to look professional. The crew nodded along, a few of them exchanging quick glances. Someone from social media already had the contact info pulled up from the blog’s ask box and DMs.

“Yeah, we can make it happen,” the tour manager said. “We’ll slide into her DMs, keep it respectful. Interview via video call or email first, see if she’s down. Could be good promo.”

Braeden gave a short nod, jaw tight. “Cool. Just… make sure it’s handled right. Don’t want it to come off weird.”

The meeting wrapped up shortly after. As everyone started filing out, Dylan and Cole lingered behind, matching shit-eating grins on their faces.

Once the door clicked shut, Dylan let out a low whistle. “Nice try, bro. ‘Connect with the fans.’ ‘Thank her for growing the fanbase.’ You’re so full of shit.”

Cole laughed, shaking his head. “We know you, man. You stayed up half the night reading her nasty little stories about you, didn’t you? Now you’re trying to manifest her into real life so you can actually fuck her.”

Braeden’s ears went red but he played it cool, shrugging. “It’s not like that. It’s good PR.”

“Bullshit,” Dylan said, clapping him on the back. “You want to turn every filthy fantasy she wrote into reality. We saw the way you were looking at that phone yesterday. You’re obsessed, dude. You want her.”

Cole smirked wider. “Admit it. You’re already imagining what she sounds like moaning your name for real instead of just typing it.”

Braeden rubbed the back of his neck, a slow, dangerous smile tugging at his lips despite himself. His mind flashed back to the dirtiest paragraphs he’d read last night — you on your knees, you bent over the dressing room counter, you riding him while whispering how much you needed his cock.

“…Maybe a little,” he finally muttered, voice low.

Dylan barked out a laugh. “A little? Bro, you’re gonna rail her the second she shows up. We all know it.”

Braeden didn’t deny it this time. The heat from last night was still simmering under his skin, thicker now.

He wanted to meet you.

He wanted to see if the girl behind those filthy words could handle the real thing.

You were curled up in your favorite oversized hoodie at your desk, the room dimly lit by your monitor and a string of fairy lights. The cursor blinked on a blank document, the only thing typed so far being the bold title at the top:

𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑼𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝑨 𝑭𝒊𝒄 ꨄ︎ (Braeden Lemasters X FemReader)

A new one. Filthier than the last. You’d been daydreaming about it all morning — Braeden catching you writing about him, the way his hands would feel pinning your wrists, the dirty things he’d growl in your ear while he fucked you senseless. You’d barely started outlining the scene when your email pinged.

The notification popped up in the corner of your screen.

Subject: Interview Opportunity with Wallows – Fan Creator Spotlight

Your heart stopped.

You clicked it open, eyes scanning the professional but friendly wording.

Hi there,

We’ve been loving your writing on Tumblr — the passion, the details, the way you capture the band’s energy. We’d like to invite you to do a short interview/feature with us. It would be a fun way to connect with the community and highlight creators like you who help grow the fanbase.

Would you be open to a casual video call or email exchange sometime this week? No pressure, just excited to chat.

Best,

Wallows Crew / Management

You stared at the screen, mouth dry. This couldn’t be real. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, the new fic completely forgotten. Heat rushed to your face as you realized they’d probably seen some of your most unhinged posts — the ones where you described Braeden ruining you backstage, choking you with praise, filling you up while you moaned his name like a prayer.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively. The idea of actually talking to them — to him possibly — sent a thrill straight through you.

You read the email three more times, pulse racing.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, a nervous, excited laugh bubbling up. “This is actually happening.”

The cursor on your new fic still blinked under the title, waiting. But right now all you could think about was what you’d say… and what might happen if Braeden himself ended up on that call.

You spent the next hour drafting and redrafting your reply, fingers shaking slightly on the keyboard. Your heart was hammering so hard you could feel it in your throat. Finally, you hit send on something that sounded chill and professional on the outside:

Hi!

Wow, thank you so much — this is insane in the best way. I’d love to do the interview! A video call works great for me whenever you’re free.

Their response came back faster than you expected.

Great to hear! We were thinking something even better — since you’re local to the area, how about an in-person chat? We can keep it casual at the venue after soundcheck. Braeden specifically mentioned he’d love to sit down with you one-on-one for this. He’s been reading your stuff and wants to thank you personally.

Does tomorrow afternoon work? We’ll send a car.

You screamed.

Literally screamed into your pillow, kicking your feet like a teenager. Braeden. Specifically. One-on-one. Your face burned as you reread the line over and over. The same Braeden you’d written hundreds of filthy scenes about — the one who pinned you down and called you his dirty little slut in your fics, who fucked you raw and whispered the nastiest praise while you fell apart on his cock.

And now he wanted to meet you. In person.

You typed back with trembling hands, trying (and failing) to sound normal:

Tomorrow afternoon is perfect. Thank you again, this is a dream.

Another reply popped up almost immediately.

Awesome. Braeden’s looking forward to it. See you soon.

You flopped back in your chair, thighs squeezing together as a rush of heat flooded through you. Your new fic titled “Once Upon a Fic” was still open on the other tab, completely abandoned. How the hell were you supposed to focus on writing about him when you were about to sit across from the real thing?

Your mind was spiraling — imagining his voice, his hands, the way he’d look at you if he knew even half the things you’d written about him doing to you. You were soaked just from the thought.

“Fuck… I’m actually going to meet Braeden,” you whispered, a giddy, horny little laugh escaping you. “This is going to ruin me.”

You had no idea how right you were.

The next afternoon, a black car pulled up exactly on time outside the back entrance of the venue. Your stomach was doing backflips the entire ride. You’d changed outfits three times, finally settling on something cute but casual — a little black skirt, cropped band tee, and your favorite boots. Your hands were clammy as you stepped inside, heart pounding so hard you were sure everyone could hear it.

A friendly woman from the crew greeted you right away, leading you down a quiet hallway to a cozy green room set up for the “interview.” She smiled warmly as she explained the setup.

“Alright, so the dynamic is pretty relaxed. We want this to feel natural — just a real conversation about your writing, how you got into the fandom, what inspires the fics, that kind of thing. Braeden’s really excited to talk with you directly. We’ll leave you two alone for about two hours so it doesn’t feel stiff or awkward with a bunch of us hovering. Sound good?”

You nodded, barely trusting your voice. Two hours. Alone. With Braeden. Your mind immediately flashed to every filthy scene you’d ever written — his hands on your thighs, his voice growling in your ear, the way you’d described him fucking you until you couldn’t think straight. Your cheeks were already burning.

“Perfect, He’ll be right in. Make yourself comfortable.” She left, closing the door softly behind her. You sat on the couch, legs pressed together, trying to breathe normally. The room smelled faintly of his cologne already — something woodsy and warm that made your pulse spike.

Then the door opened again.

Braeden stepped in, tall and effortlessly hot in a loose black button-up with the sleeves rolled up, exposing those veiny forearms you’d written about obsessively. His hair was messy in that perfect post-shower way, and when his eyes locked onto you, a slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.

You blushed immediately. Hard. Heat flooded your face, your neck, even your chest. You couldn’t stop it. Your thighs clenched on instinct as you stared at the man you’d fantasized about ruining you in a hundred different ways.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and a little rough, like he’d been thinking about this too. He closed the door behind him, the click sounding way too final. “You’re her. The girl behind all those filthy stories.”

He took a step closer, eyes dragging over you slowly, appreciatively.

Fuck. You were already wet.

The second Braeden closed the door, your brain short-circuited. You stood up too fast, heart slamming against your ribs, cheeks still burning from that initial blush. Seeing him in person — real, breathing, tall and radiating that quiet intensity — hit different. This wasn’t pixels on a screen or words you’d typed in the dark. This was him.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, voice shaky with pure excitement. “It’s actually you. I can’t believe this is happening right now. I’ve been freaking out since the email—”

Before you could ramble any more, Braeden stepped forward and pulled you into a hug.

His arms wrapped around you firmly, one hand settling on your lower back, the other between your shoulder blades. He smelled like clean skin, faint cologne, and something warmer — the leftover heat from soundcheck. Your face pressed against his chest, and for a second everything felt electric. You hugged him back, fingers curling into his shirt, a giddy little laugh escaping you.

“You smell even better than I imagined,” you mumbled without thinking, then immediately froze.

Braeden chuckled low, the sound vibrating through his chest. He didn’t let go right away. When he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands stayed on your waist, thumbs brushing lightly over your hips.

That’s when reality crashed down.

He had read everything.

Every single filthy fic. Every scene where you wrote him fucking you raw, choking you, calling you his desperate little slut, coming deep inside you while you screamed his name. The ones where he bent you over the tour bus couch, the ones where he made you ride him while whispering the nastiest praise. All of it.

Your face went scarlet. You tried to step back, suddenly mortified, eyes dropping to the floor. “Shit… you’ve probably read all of it, haven’t you? I—I didn’t think anyone from the band would actually see the really dirty stuff and now I just—”

“Hey,” Braeden cut you off softly, tilting your chin up with two fingers so you had to meet his eyes. His voice dropped lower, that same raspy tone you’d written about a hundred times. “Don’t worry, baby. There’s nothing to be shy about.”

He leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered:

“Actually… that’s the hottest thing ever.”

Your breath hitched hard. The way he said baby — exactly like you’d imagined — sent heat flooding straight between your legs. Braeden’s eyes darkened as he watched your reaction, that slow smirk returning.

“I read every word,” he continued, voice rougher now. “And I’ve been thinking about it since last night. About you writing all that nasty shit about me… getting yourself off to it. Now you’re here. Looking like that.”

He didn’t pull away. His hand stayed on your waist, grip tightening just a little.

You couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

They were right there — soft, slightly parted, the same lips you’d written about a thousand times: how they’d feel biting your neck, whispering filthy things against your skin, sucking marks into your thighs. Your gaze was locked on them, breath shallow, the air between you crackling.

Braeden noticed immediately. His smirk deepened, that intense half-lidded look you knew so well from every photo and every fantasy. He tilted his head slightly, thumb still gently holding your chin.

“You can kiss me, you know,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Don’t worry, baby. It’s more than okay. I’ve been dying to feel it… to have you show me everything you imagine when you write all that filthy shit about me.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. The permission, the hunger in his voice — it snapped something inside you.

You didn’t hesitate.

You surged forward, hands fisting in his shirt, and crashed your lips against his. The kiss was desperate, hungry, all the months of fantasizing pouring out at once. Braeden groaned into your mouth the second you made contact — a deep, satisfied sound that went straight to your core. His arms wrapped around you instantly, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, the other gripping your waist hard enough to bruise.

He kissed you back like he’d been starving for it. His mouth was hot, demanding, tongue sliding against yours with filthy intent. He tasted like mint and something darker, and he kissed exactly how you’d always written him — dominant but passionate, like he wanted to devour every little whimper you made.

You moaned softly against him, pressing your body closer, and Braeden walked you backwards until your back hit the wall. He didn’t pull away. Instead he deepened the kiss, tilting your head exactly how he wanted, sucking on your bottom lip before biting it gently.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I thought,” he growled against your mouth, barely breaking the kiss. “Been reading how you want me to ruin you… now show me, baby. Kiss me like you write it.”

You did. You poured everything into it — needy, messy, passionate — hands roaming over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. Braeden’s grip tightened, pulling you flush against him so you could feel exactly how hard he already was.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The kiss had you dripping, your whole body burning with months of built-up fantasy. Without thinking, you pushed Braeden back toward the couch, climbed straight onto his lap, straddling him. Your skirt rode up your thighs as you settled over him, hands gripping his shoulders, lips chasing his again like you were addicted.

Braeden let out a low, surprised laugh that turned into a groan, his hands immediately sliding under your skirt to grip your ass.

“Wow… you’re so fucking greedy, baby,” he murmured against your mouth, voice thick with lust. “Didn’t even wait two minutes. All those fics and you’re this desperate for me in real life?”

You didn’t answer with words. You just kissed him harder, deeper, grinding down against the obvious bulge in his jeans. Your tongue tangled with his, needy and messy, while his fingers dug into your soft flesh, guiding your hips in slow circles.

Braeden pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and hungry. His lips were swollen, breathing ragged.

“I know something that feels even better,” he said, voice dropping into that raspy tone you loved.

In one smooth move, he shifted you off his lap and onto his thick thigh, pulling you down so you were straddling just one leg. His knee pressed perfectly right against your clit through your soaked panties, the pressure firm and deliberate.

A sharp gasp escaped you as the contact hit exactly where you needed it.

Braeden smirked, watching your face with pure satisfaction. One of his hands stayed on your hip, slowly rocking you against his thigh, while the other slid up to cup the back of your neck.

“That’s it,” he growled softly. “Ride my thigh like you’ve written about riding my cock. Show me how bad you’ve wanted this, baby.”

The friction was delicious, every little movement sending sparks through your clit. You were already soaked, your wetness starting to stain his jeans as you rolled your hips again, moaning into his mouth when he pulled you down for another filthy kiss.

Your hips started moving on their own, grinding softly against Braeden’s thick thigh, chasing that perfect pressure on your swollen clit. Little whimpers slipped out of you as you humped him slowly, your soaked panties sliding against the rough denim.

Braeden groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he helped you. He guided your movements, pulling you down harder, rocking you back and forth with strong hands.

“That’s it, baby… just like that,” he rasped, voice low and filthy. “Fuck my thigh. Use me like you’ve been fantasizing about for months.”

The friction was driving you crazy. Every roll of your hips sent sparks shooting up your spine. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in, kissing and nipping at his skin while you kept grinding.

Then you glanced down.

The sight made your mouth water.

Braeden was rock hard, his cock straining painfully against his jeans, the thick outline obvious and twitching. You could see how big he was, how much he was leaking for you already.

Without thinking, you slid one hand down between your bodies and started palming him over his jeans. Your fingers traced the heavy length of him, squeezing gently, stroking him slowly through the fabric.

“Fuck…” Braeden hissed, hips bucking up into your hand. “Look at you… so fucking needy. You write all that dirty shit about my cock and now you’re touching it like you own it.”

You moaned softly, pressing your clit harder against his thigh while your hand kept working him. He felt massive, hot, and throbbing under your palm. You rubbed him firmer, loving the way his breath hitched every time you squeezed the head.

Braeden’s hand slid up your thigh, fingers slipping under your skirt until they brushed against your soaked panties.

“You’re fucking dripping, baby,” he growled, voice dark with lust. “Keep humping my thigh and stroking my cock just like that… good girl.”

Braeden’s breathing was getting heavier, his cock twitching hard under your palm. He grabbed your wrist gently but firmly, guiding your hand to the button of his jeans.

“Take it out, baby,” he murmured against your lips, voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel your hand on me properly.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You popped the button, tugged down the zipper, and slipped your hand inside. The second your fingers wrapped around his thick, bare cock, you both moaned. He was rock-hard, hot, and so big your hand barely fit around him. You started stroking him slowly, feeling every vein, the way he throbbed in your grip, the precum already leaking from the tip.

Braeden groaned deeply, hips bucking up into your fist. At the same time, his other hand gripped your ass hard, guiding your hips back and forth on his thigh with more force.

“Fuck, just like that,” he rasped, helping you jerk him off while making sure you kept grinding your soaked pussy against his leg. “Stroke my cock while you hump my thigh like a desperate little slut. That’s what you are, isn’t it? Writing all those filthy stories about me and now you’re living them.”

You whimpered, pumping him faster, twisting your wrist just right around the head the way you’d imagined a hundred times. The wet sounds of your hand moving on his leaking cock mixed with the filthy noises of you riding his thigh.

Braeden leaned in, biting your bottom lip before pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you. His gaze was intense, pupils blown wide with lust.

“By the way, baby…” he said, voice low and dangerously sweet, “you don’t get to cum until I say so. Understand?”

He squeezed your ass hard, forcing you to keep grinding even as your clit throbbed against his thigh, the pressure building dangerously.

“You’re gonna keep stroking me and riding my leg like a good girl… but that pretty pussy doesn’t cum until I give you permission. Got it?”

The pressure on your clit was unbearable now — every grind pushed you closer to the edge, but his earlier words echoed in your head. You weren’t allowed to cum until he said so.

“Please, Braeden…” you whimpered against his neck, voice shaky and needy. “Please let me cum. I’m so close… I’ve been good, I’ve been stroking you just how you like, humping your thigh like you told me. Please, baby, I need it. I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You sounded pathetic, exactly like the desperate girls in your own fics, and it only made you wetter. Braeden groaned, his cock pulsing hot and heavy in your fist as he kept guiding your ass, forcing you to keep riding his thigh harder.

“Fuck, listen to you begging so pretty,” he rasped, lips brushing your ear. “All that filthy writing and now you’re falling apart on my leg like this.”

He suddenly gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were dark, lips parted, breathing ragged.

“Go ahead then, princess,” he murmured, voice dripping with lust and affection. “Cum for me. Only because you write so fucking well.”

That was all it took.

The orgasm crashed into you hard. You cried out, burying your face in his shoulder as your whole body shook. Your pussy clenched and throbbed against his thigh, soaking his jeans even more while your hand kept pumping his cock through it. Waves of pleasure rolled through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his lap.

Braeden held you through it, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other still tangled in your hair. He kissed the side of your head, murmuring soft praise against your skin as you came down.

“That’s my good girl… so fucking perfect.”

When your breathing finally slowed, he pulled you into a full, warm hug, pressing your body against his chest. You could still feel how hard he was, but he didn’t push for more right then.

“We should probably finish this ‘interview’ properly,” he said with a low chuckle, lips brushing your temple. “Don’t want the crew getting suspicious. But after that… we’re going back to my room. I’m nowhere near done with you, baby. I want to turn every single nasty thing you’ve ever written about me into reality tonight.”

He kissed you softly, almost sweetly, then smirked.

A = Aftercare (What they’s like after sex)

Garret: Is extremely attentive after sex, pulling you against his chest and running his big hands up and down your back. He always makes sure you drink water and checks if you’re sore, whispering praises like “You did so good for me, baby.”

Hannah: The sweetest after sex, always pulling you close and covering your face with soft kisses. She loves running her fingers through your hair while whispering how amazing you made her feel. Cuddles are non-negotiable; she’ll wrap herself around you like a koala until you both fall asleep.

Beau: Surprisingly attentive after sex. He pulls you close immediately, kissing your forehead and whispering how incredible you felt. He loves running his hands through your hair or tracing lazy patterns on your skin while catching his breath. Expect water, snacks, and him cuddling you like you’re his favorite trophy until you both fall asleep.

Dean: He’ll pull you against his chest, kiss your forehead, and run his fingers through your hair while whispering how good you were for him. He always makes sure you have water, a warm cloth, and his hoodie. No leaving the bed until you’re taken care of. Even when he’s exhausted, he stays awake longer than you just to watch you fall asleep.

Allie: Is incredibly sweet and attentive after sex. She loves pulling you close, stroking your hair, and whispering how amazing you felt always makes sure you’re hydrated and cuddles you until you both calm down.

B = Body Part ( Their favorite body part of their and yours)

Garrett: His favorite body part on himself are his arms — he loves how strong they look when he’s pinning you down or lifting you against the wall. On you? Your tits. He’s obsessed, always staring, groping, sucking, and leaving marks on them every single time. He’ll bury his face between them when he’s inside you, groaning about how perfect they feel in his hands.

Hannah: Her favorite body part of hers are her tits — she loves when you worship them, suck, and squeeze them. On you, she’s obsessed with your hips and thighs, gripping them hard while you ride her face. She constantly tells you how perfect your curves feel under her hands.

Beau: His favorite body part on himself is his arms and shoulders years of training made them strong and he loves when you grip them. On you, it’s your ass and thighs. He’s obsessed with grabbing, smacking, and spreading them while he’s inside you. He also can’t get enough of your lips watching them wrap around him or moaning his name.

Dean: His favorite body part on himself is his hands — big, strong hockey hands that love gripping your hips. On you? Your ass. He’s obsessed with the way it looks when you’re bent over every surface in the house. He constantly smacks, squeezes, and spreads it whenever he gets the chance.

Allie: Her favorite part of her own body is her waist and hips; she loves when you grip them hard while you’re inside her or when she’s riding you. On you, she’s obsessed with your thighs and the curve of your neck. She can’t stop touching and kissing them.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Garrett: Loves pulling out at the last second and finishing on your stomach, tits, or ass. The visual of his cum marking you drives him crazy. He’ll groan your name while stroking himself through it, eyes locked on the mess he made. Sometimes he’ll use his fingers to push some of it back inside you just to watch it drip out again.

Hannah: Is a massive squirter, especially when you hit that perfect spot with your fingers or strap. She gets embarrassed at first but you love making her soak the sheets and your face. She’ll shyly ask you to keep going because the orgasms feel even stronger when she squirts.

Beau: Loves finishing inside you (when protected) and watching it drip out. He has a thing for marking you cumming on your tits, stomach, or ass and rubbing it in like a claim. He’ll make you taste yourselves mixed together and groan at how filthy and hot it is.

Dean: Completely addicted to creampies. The sight of his cum dripping out of you drives him feral every single time. He’ll push it back inside with his fingers while growling “mine” and getting hard again instantly. Loves finishing inside you raw and watching it leak down your thighs afterward.

Allie: Gets extremely wet, soaking the sheets and your fingers every time she comes. She’s not a squirter but the amount of slick she produces is almost embarrassing to her. Cleanup usually turns into more lazy kisses and her tasting both of you on her fingers.

D = Dirty Talk (they talks you through it?)

Garrett: Is very vocal and loves talking you through it. “That’s it, baby… take my cock just like that. Fuck, you feel so good.” He mixes praise with filthy commands, telling you how tight you are and how he’s going to ruin you. His voice gets deeper and raspier the closer he gets, especially when he’s close to coming.

Hannah: She’s surprisingly vocal once she’s lost in it, moaning “please, baby, right there” breathlessly. Hannah loves when you talk dirty to her, praising how good she looks falling apart for you. She’ll whimper your name like a prayer while you spoil her.

Beau: Yes, he absolutely talks you through it. Deep, husky voice in your ear the whole time. “You take my cock so fucking well, baby… that’s it, squeeze me just like that.” He mixes praise with filthy commands and loves making you beg out loud.

Dean: He is filthy and talks you through it the entire time. Constant praise mixed with absolute filth. “That’s it, baby, take every inch. Fuck, you’re squeezing me so good.” He never shuts up — even when he’s close, he’s moaning dirty promises in your ear.

Allie: She talks you through it beautifully, especially when she’s in control. Her voice gets breathy and needy as she moans instructions loves telling you “just like that, baby… don’t stop” and praising how good you feel. When she’s feeling extra submissive she whimpers the dirtiest things in your ear until you lose it.

E = Experience (How experienced is They?)

Garrett: Experienced but not a manwhore. He had a few steady hookups before you, but nothing serious. He knows exactly what he’s doing — years of hockey discipline taught him great body control and stamina. With you he’s constantly learning what makes you scream his name the loudest.

Hannah: Wasn’t super experienced before you, mostly vanilla hookups that left her wanting more. With you she’s discovering what she really likes — being spoiled and taken care of. She’s a quick learner and gets more confident every time you’re together.

Beau: Very experienced. As the star Dean duo and with all that charm, he’s had plenty of hookups before you. But once he’s with you, he focuses all that skill on learning exactly what makes you scream his name. He knows tricks and positions most guys your age haven’t even heard of.

Dean: We all know he was a total manwhore before you. He’s slept with more girls than he can count and knows exactly how to play your body. But once he’s with you, all that experience is used to ruin you in the best way possible. He’s cocky about it too “No one’s ever gonna fuck you like I do, sweetheart.”

Allie: She doesn’t has a ton of experience, but she knows exactly what she wants and isn’t shy about asking for it once she trusts you learns fast and pays close attention to every reaction you give her, quickly becoming amazing at reading your body.

F = Favorite Position (self explanatory)

Garrett: His absolute favorite is you riding him. He loves leaning back and watching your tits bounce while gripping your hips. Missionary is a close second because he can kiss you, choke you lightly, or pin your wrists above your head. Doggy also gets him feral — especially when he pulls your hair and presses your face into the mattress.

Hannah: She loves being on her back in missionary so she can see your face while you fuck her. Being a pillow princess, she enjoys when you’re on top, pinning her down gently and giving her everything. Wrapped legs around your waist while you grind deep is her heaven.

Beau: Addicted to doggy style gripping your hips and pounding deep Prone bone is his ultimate favorite pressing you flat into the mattress with his whole body covering yours. He also loves Lotus position when he wants it slow and intimate, face to face with you in his lap.

Dean: Totally loves bending you over every surface he can find — kitchen counter, couch, desk, hood of his car, locker room bench. Doggy and standing positions are his go-to because he loves watching your ass bounce while he rails you. He’ll fuck you against walls, over the back of the couch, or anywhere he can get deep and watch you fall apart.

Allie: Loves being on top so she can control the pace and watch your face while she rides you. She also adores missionary with her legs wrapped around your waist because she can pull you close and kiss you the whole time. Doggy scissoring with you gripping her hips is a close third; she feels you so deep that way.

G = Goofy (Is The more serious or humorous?)

Garrett: Can be a bit serious during sex, but he has his goofy moments. He’ll laugh if you make a silly sound or if you both tumble off the bed. He loves teasing you mid-thrust with a smirk and a playful comment just to make you whine. Overall he’s more intense than silly, but never makes you feel embarrassed.

Hannah: Can be a little shy and giggly during sex, especially if something awkward happens. She loves when things get playful — a sudden kiss attack or tickling that turns into more. But once she’s turned on, she gets needy and focused on feeling good.

Beau: Is super goofy during sex and can’t help cracking jokes. He’ll make you laugh even when he’s balls deep, then turn it filthy in the same breath. His humor makes everything feel fun and connected instead of serious.

Dean: So very humorous during sex. He’ll crack jokes, tease you, and make you laugh even when he’s balls deep. Sex with him is fun, playful, and never too serious. But when he wants to be intense, the goofy side disappears and he becomes dominant and focused.

Allie: She has moments of playful giggles mid-sex when something awkward happens. But once things get intense she turns focused and hungry, losing the goofiness completely. Her humor usually comes out during foreplay or right after, keeping things light and loving.

H = Hair (How well-groomed is The? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Garrett: He trims regularly because he likes feeling clean and doesn’t want anything getting in the way. The carpet matches the drapes — dark, thick hair that leads down in a sexy happy trail. He doesn’t go fully bare but stays neat for maximum comfort and aesthetics.

Hannah: She keeps herself neatly trimmed, soft and always smooth for you she loves when you kiss and nuzzle. She gets a little self-conscious but melts when you tell her how pretty she is down there.

Beau: Keeps himself well-groomed but not completely bare.He has a neat happy trail that matches his hair. The carpet is trimmed short and always clean for you.

Dean: He trims everything neatly but doesn’t go fully bare. The carpet definitely matches the drapes — that golden dirty-blond hair looks perfect on him. He loves when you run your fingers through his happy trail while you’re going down on him.

Allie: She is completely waxed and smooth everywhere loves the extra sensitivity it gives her. She keeps herself perfectly groomed because it makes her feel sexy and confident. The soft, bare skin drives her crazy when you kiss and lick her there for long periods.

I = Intimacy (How is The during the moment?)

Garrett: He maintains eye contact, kisses you deeply, and constantly tells you how much he loves you. Even when it’s rough, there’s always an undercurrent of tenderness — foreheads pressed together, hands intertwined. He makes you feel like the only girl in the world every single time.

Hannah: Craves deep eye contact and emotional connection during sex. She wants to feel loved and spoiled, not just fucked — lots of “I’ve got you, baby” moments. Kissing nonstop while you’re inside her makes everything more intense for her.

Beau: Is incredibly intimate even when he’s being rough.Eye contact, forehead kisses, and holding your hands are constant.He makes you feel worshipped and loved no matter how nasty the sex gets.

Dean: He loves eye contact, forehead kisses, and holding your hands while he fucks you slow and deep. Even in rough rounds he’ll cup your face and tell you how much he loves you. He makes you feel like the only girl in the world.

Allie: She wants eye contact, deep kisses, and constant touching. Even when it’s rough, she needs that emotional connection, whispering “I love you” against your lips thrives on feeling close to you on every level, body and soul.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Garrett: When he’s away or you’re busy, Garrett jerks off to photos or voice notes you sent him. He strokes slowly at first, imagining it’s your hand or mouth, then gets rougher as he thinks about burying himself inside you. He always cleans up thinking about the next time he’ll have you for real.

Hannah: She masturbates thinking about you almost every night, especially after texting all day. Loves using her fingers while imagining your mouth on her tits and between her legs. She gets loud when she’s alone, moaning your name into her pillow.

Beau: Jerks off regularly, especially when he’s thinking about you. He’s vocal even alone — grunting your name. He has no shame sending you teasing texts or voice notes when he’s doing it. After you start dating, most of his solo sessions turn into “I need you right now” calls.

Dean: He doesn’t jerk off nearly as much anymore now that he has you why would he when he can have the real thing? But when you’re apart or he’s worked up thinking about you, he’ll stroke himself while texting you filthy messages. He saves his load for you every single time.

Allie: Masturbates regularly because she genuinely enjoys it as an act of self-love. Sometimes she’ll do it even when you’re home, not because she’s unsatisfied, but because it feels good and empowering doesn’t always tell you beforehand you might walk in on her with a toy between her legs and a blissful expression.

K = Kink (One or more of Theirs kinks)

Garrett: Has a big thing for marking you — hickeys on your tits, fingerprints on your hips, light spanking. He loves light choking (with consent) and making you keep eye contact while he ruins you. Also really into mirror sex so you both can watch.

Hannah: Big praise kink tell her she’s yourgood girl and she’ll fall apart instantly. Loves being spoiled, light choking (giving and receiving), and having her tits played with roughly. Slight breeding kink when she’s really deep in subspace.

Beau: Big on light spanking, hair-pulling, and breeding talk. He loves risky semi-public sex (locker room, car, party bathroom). Also into mirror sex so you both can watch.

Dean: Daddy kink hits him hard — he loves when you moan it while he’s balls deep. He’s heavily into exhibitionism, always trying to fuck you in risky places where you might get caught. He also has a thing for recording you (with your consent) so he can watch how pretty you look when he ruins you.

Allie: Is a super switch and thrives on both dominating you and being dominated She has a big thing for power play, light choking, and being praised while she’s being used also loves when you edge her until she’s shaking and begging.

L = Location (Favorite places to do it)

Garrett: His bedroom at the Fraternity house, the locker room after everyone leaves, and the backseat of his car. He also loves fucking you in the shower wet bodies, slippery skin, and easy cleanup. Anywhere he can have you pressed against a wall is a win.

Hannah: Her favorite is your bed or hers, where she can be as loud as she wants. Shower sex is a close second — you holding her up against the tiles. She’s not big on super risky public places but loves the thrill of your car at night.

Beau: His favorites are his truck, the locker room after practice, and his bedroom with the door locked. He’s down for risky spots like the couch when the guys are out or a quiet corner at parties. Hotel rooms during away games turn him extra wild.

Dean: Will fuck you literally anywhere locker room, car, rooftop, movie theater, bathroom at parties. His favorite is bending you over any available surface in the house when the guys are home. The risk of getting caught only makes him harder. But his all time favourite is shower sex

Allie: Her favorite is your shared bed where she can be as loud as she wants. She also gets excited about risky quickies in the car or the classroom after classes. The shower is another go-to because she loves wet, slippery sex against the tiles.

M = Motivation (What turns Them on?)

Garrett: Seeing you in his hockey jersey with nothing underneath instantly makes him hard. Your moans, the way you tug his hair, and when you beg for him are his biggest turn-ons. Post-game adrenaline always has him desperate to find you and bury himself inside you.

Hannah: Seeing you in control and focused on her pleasure turns her on like nothing else. Compliments, neck kisses, and when you call her “princess” or “babygirl”. Watching you get worked up while eating her out is her biggest turn-on.

Beau: Seeing you in his jersey or bent over in leggings instantly turns him on. Your laugh, the way you tease him back, and when you get a little bratty. Post-game adrenaline always makes him want to fuck you senseless.

Dean: Seeing you in little skirts turns him on instantly. Your bratty attitude and the way you tease him back drive him crazy. Also loves when you’re jealous — it makes him want to remind you who you belong to.

Allie: Gets turned on by emotional closeness when you look at her like she’s everything. Compliments, teasing touches throughout the day, and seeing you get possessive over her drive her crazy. She also loves when she catches you staring at her body.

N = No (Something The wouldn’t do)

Garrett: His hard no is CNC. He doesn’t like any scenario where you pretend you don’t want it — he needs enthusiastic consent every time. He also won’t do anything that could seriously hurt you or make you uncomfortable. Anything involving other people watching or joining is also off the table.

Hannah: Bondage is a hard no — she doesn’t like feeling restricted or helpless. Anything that involves real pain or degradation is off the table. She needs to feel safe and cherished at all times.

Beau: He won’t do anything that involves real pain, degradation that feels mean, or sharing you. No choking that’s too intense or anything that could actually hurt you. He’s also not into super heavy BDSM — he prefers fun and playful.

Dean: He won’t share you. Ever. No threesomes, no watching other people touch you — you’re his and only his. He also draws the line at anything that could genuinely hurt you.

Allie: Her absolute no is monotony needs constant variety and excitement. She hates routine sex and wants to keep things fresh and spontaneous. Anything that feels boring or predictable is a hard pass.

O = Oral (Preference giving or receiving)

Garrett: He’ll spend ages between your thighs, tongue and fingers working until you’re shaking. He loves when you suck him off — especially if you look up at him with teary eyes and his cock in your mouth. 69 is a regular favorite so he can eat you out while you take him.

Hannah: Is a total receiver — she loves laying back like a pillow princess while you devour her. She gets shy about giving but will eagerly bury her face between your thighs when she’s in the mood. She prefers receiving head way more and can cum multiple times from it.

Beau: He loves giving almost as much as receiving. He’ll eat you out like a starving man, especially after a win. When receiving, he’s a sucker for eye contact and you on your knees. He’ll guide your head gently but gets super vocal and praise-heavy.

Dean: He loves both but is a huge giver. Dean will eat you out for hours, holding your thighs open while he makes you scream. He also loves when you drop to your knees and take him deep, especially if he can fuck your throat.

Allie: Totally refers giving over receiving, though she loves both. She’s enthusiastic and loves watching your reactions while she goes down on you gets really into it, moaning into you and taking her time.

P = Pace (Is The fast and rough or slow and sensual?)

Garrett: He can do both, but he loves starting slow and deep, then switching to fast and rough when you’re begging. Sensual and teasing at the beginning, then pounding you into the mattress when you’re close. He adjusts perfectly to whatever you need that day.

Hannah: She loves a mix but leans toward slow and sensual, deep thrusts that make her feel everything. When she’s desperate she’ll beg for it harder and faster. You setting the pace while she just takes it drives her crazy.

Beau: He can do both fast and rough in doggy/prone bone when the mood is feral. Slow and sensual in Lotus, grinding deep while kissing you stupid. He usually starts playful and builds to whatever you’re craving.

Dean: He can do both for sure but there's a thing... Most of the time he’s pounding you hard while bending you over every surface. He loves switching paces just to keep you on edge algo cause he loves grabbing your hips to push you back

Allie: The definition of greedy koves it fast and intense most of the time. She craves deep, quick sex that leave her breathless can do slow and sensual but always ends up begging for more speed.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies)

Garrett: 100% down for quickies. Fast, dirty fucks in the car or bathroom before a game are common. He still makes sure you cum, even if it’s quick — he hates leaving you unsatisfied. But he prefers long sessions where he can take his time worshipping you.

Hannah: She’s not the biggest fan of quickies because she loves being spoiled for a long time. But if you’re both horny and have ten minutes, she’ll still let you finger her until she squirts. She prefers taking her time to get properly ruined.

Beau: Huge fan of quickies. He’s efficient and can make you come fast. “Five minutes, baby, I promise” usually turns into fifteen because he gets carried away. Perfect for before games or between classes.

Dean: Is beyond obsessed with quickies. He’ll drag you into a closet or bathroom for a fast, dirty fuck most of times. Five minutes is more than enough for him to make you cum and leave you dripping. Also he loves how you can't have enough time to recover and your legs are all shaky

Allie: Is a huge fan of quickies like insane she thinks they’re fucking hot and spontaneous A fast fuck in the bathroom before class or in the car gets her excited for later. She can cum surprisingly fast when she’s worked up.

R = Risk (Is The game to experiment? Does he take risks?)

Garrett: He’s pretty open to experimenting and taking risks, especially semi-public stuff that gets the adrenaline going. He loves pushing your limits in a safe way — new positions, light bondage, toys. Always checks in and respects boundaries.

Hannah: Is somewhat adventurous with you but prefers comfort and privacy. She’ll try new things if you guide her gently and make her feel safe. Riskiest she’ll go is semi-public like the car or locked bathroom.

Beau: He’s very open to experimenting and taking risks — the thrill of getting caught turns him on. He’ll try new positions or toys if you suggest them. Always makes sure you’re comfortable first though.

Dean: Completely lives for the risk. He’ll finger you under the table at dinner with friends or fuck you in semi-public places just for the thrill. The danger of getting caught makes everything hotter for him also cause he knows you can't keep quiet.

Allie: Very open to experimenting and taking risks. Public play, semi-public sex, and trying new toys or positions turn her on. She trusts you completely and loves pushing boundaries together. Actually she's the one who suggests everything

S = Stamina (How many rounds can The go?)

Garrett: Hockey player stamina is no joke Garrett can go 3-4 rounds easily with short breaks. He recovers fast and stays hard for a long time, especially when he’s really turned on by you. You’ll be exhausted before he is.

Hannah: She can handle 2-3 intense rounds before getting sleepy and extra cuddly. Her body is very sensitive so each orgasm hits harder than the last. After the third she becomes a blissed-out, cute clingy mess.

Beau: As an athlete, his stamina is excellent easily 3-4 rounds with short breaks.He can go hard for a long time, especially when he’s in the mood to tease you. Round two is usually even better because he’s more relaxed.

Dean: He's a player obviously has insane stamina easily goes for 3-4 rounds. Hockey conditioning means he can fuck you for hours without getting tired. He’ll keep going until you’re shaking and begging.

Allie: For sure can go for 2-3 solid rounds, especially when she’s really turned on. She bounces back quickly thanks to her high energy and love for pleasure. By the third round she’s a whimpering, oversensitive mess but still begging for more.

T = Toys (Does The own/use toys?)

Garrett: He owns a couple of toys for you — vibrator and plug mainly. Loves using them while he fucks you or makes you wear them in public. He’s not intimidated by them at all and thinks they make things hotter. Will buy new ones if you express interest.

Hannah: She owns a few vibrators and a dildo she uses while thinking of you. Loves when you use toys on her, especially a vibrator on her clit while you fuck her with your strap. She’s open to more toys as long as you’re the one controlling them.

Beau: He owns a couple of vibrators for you and isn’t shy about using them. Loves combining toys with his mouth or cock to overstimulate you. He’s open to more but nothing too extreme.

Dean: He owns a few toys (vibrators, plugs) mostly to use on you. Loves edging you with a vibrator before fucking you senseless. He’s open to experimenting but prefers his cock and hands doing most of the work.

Allie: Owns several toys and is obsessed with clit suckers she’ll use them on herself or let you edge her for ages. She loves incorporating vibrators, dildos, and even restraints when the mood strikes. Toy play is a regular part of your sex life since you adore to use the strap.

U = Unfair (How much The likes to tease)

Garrett: Is a massive tease. He’ll edge you for ages, slow strokes while smirking, making you beg. He loves when you’re desperate and whining his name. But he always rewards you in the end — usually multiple times.

Hannah: Fucking loves being teased but gets super whiny and needy when you edge her. She’ll pout and beg so prettily that you usually give in. You teasing her tits and inner thighs is her weakness.

Beau: A massive tease. He’ll edge you until you’re begging, smiling the whole time. He loves making you say exactly what you want before he gives it to you. But he always delivers in the end.

Dean: For sure he is the ultimate tease like the to point of being a bitch. He’ll edge you for ages, pulling out right when you’re about to cum just to hear you whine “Daddy please.” He loves watching you squirm and beg for him.

Allie: Is a massive tease literally the human form of tease. She’ll grind on you, send nudes, or do sexy dances just to watch you suffer. Loves edging you (and herself) until you’re both desperate. Her playful unfairness always ends in fucking explosive orgasms.

V = Volume (How loud is They?)

Garrett: Vocal but not extremely loud. Deep groans, curses, and your name growled in your ear. He gets louder when he’s close, especially if you’re riding him. He loves when you are loud though the louder you are, the harder he goes.

Hannah: Is loud when she feels safe. Lots of moans, whimpers, and breathy gasps. She says your name like a prayer when she comes. She tries to be quieter in risky places but fails adorably.

Beau: He’s pretty loud — lots of groaning, grunting, and dirty talk. He moans your name when he comes and isn’t afraid to be vocal. He loves when you’re loud too and encourages it.

Dean: He’s loud and vocal lots of grunts, moans, and filthy dirty talk. Doesn’t care if the whole house hears him claiming you. Your moans are his favorite sound though, and he works hard to pull them out of you.

Allie: Fucking loud and unashamed about it lots of moans, whimpers, and cries of your name. She tries to be quieter in risky places but usually fails adorably. Her sounds are music to your ears and extremely motivating.

W = Wild card (Random headcanon)

Garrett: Secretly loves when you wear his jersey while he fucks you from behind. He’ll pull it up just enough to see your tits bounce. He also has a thing for slow, lazy morning sex where he’s half asleep but still deep inside you. After big wins, he gets extra possessive and needy.

Hannah: Secretly wants to try the mommy kink with you. She fantasizes about calling you “mommy” while you spoil and dominate her softly. She’s shy about bringing it up but gets soaked just thinking about it. She wants to feel extra spoiled and taken care of in that dynamic.

Beau: Has a recurring fantasy about having a threesome with you and Dean. He gets ridiculously turned on just talking about it. He’s mentioned it multiple times during dirty talk, describing how hot it would be to share you. He’d never pressure you but the idea clearly lives rent-free in his head.

Dean: Secretly not so secretly loves when you wear his clothes after sex. He’ll fuck you in his jersey and then make you sleep in it, covered in his cum. Possessive as hell in the hottest way possible.

Allie: Loves giving you private sexy dances she’ll put on music, strip slowly, and grind on you until you can’t take it anymore. It’s her signature way of seducing you and always leads to mind-blowing sex. Her dancer energy makes every performance incredibly hot.

X = X-ray (What’s going on under the clothes?)

Garrett: Thick, long cock with a slight upward curve that hits all the right spots. Veiny and perfect. Heavy balls, trimmed dark hair, and a very defined V-line that leads straight to it. Athletic body broad shoulders, strong arms, abs you can trace with your tongue.

Hannah: Has the most soft, full curves with beautiful tits she loves having played with. Her pussy is pretty, pink, and gets so wet for you. She has sensitive nipples and loves showing off her body when she’s comfortable.

Beau: Is long and thick with a slight upward curve that hits all the right spots. He’s well-groomed and keeps everything neat down there. The head is especially sensitive and gets flushed dark when he’s really hard.

Dean: 7.3 Is thick and long with a slight upward curve that hits your g-spot perfectly. Veiny, pretty pink reddish head that looks like a mushroom and always ready for you. He knows exactly how to use it and loves showing it off.

Allie: Has an athletic, toned body with soft curves at her waist and hips. Her breasts are perky and sensitive, and her ass is round and firm from all the training. She’s always smooth, glowing, and incredibly responsive to touch.

Y = Yearning (How high is Their sex drive?)

Garrett: Has a very high sex drive. He wants you almost every day, sometimes multiple times. Even after a rough practice he’ll come home horny and ready to go. You’re basically his favorite addiction.

Hannah: Her sex drive is high when she feels safe and loved. She gets needy and clingy, sending you shy texts when she wants you. Once in a relationship, she craves you almost daily.

Beau: Has a very high sex drive. He wants you almost every day, sometimes multiple times. Even after a tough game he still has energy for you. He’s constantly horny for you specifically.

Dean: His sex drive is extremely high. He wants you multiple times a day at least in the morning, after practice, before bed. You’re basically his addiction if you can do more sure more.

Allie: Has a very high sex drive she wants you every time is possible She’s not shy (she's actually proud) about initiating and can get needy fast. Her yearning is both physical and emotional; she craves the connection as much as the orgasm.

Z = Zzz (How quickly The sleeps afterwards)

Garrett: He falls asleep pretty fast after sex, especially if he’s holding you against his chest. But he always makes sure you’re taken care of first never just rolls over. Big warm body wrapped around you is the best sleeping pill.

Hannah: She falls asleep pretty fast after sex, especially after good aftercare. She curls into you like a koala, head on your chest sleeps best when she feels thoroughly fucked and cherished.

Beau: He falls asleep pretty fast after sex, especially after multiple rounds. He always pulls you into his arms first though, spooning you tightly. You usually fall asleep to the sound of his soft breathing and occasional sleepy jokes.

Dean: Falls asleep pretty fast after sex, but only after making sure you’re taken care of. He pulls you on top of his chest, wraps his arms around you, and is out within minutes. You’re always safe and warm in his arms He needs to be sure you feel that way so he can sleep

The lights of the Liberty High gym spilled out into the parking lot like a promise of magic and chaos, but none of it compared to the way Clay Jensen looked at you the second you stepped out of the car.

You’d spent hours getting ready—hair cascading in soft waves, makeup flawless, and the dress… God, the dress. Deep crimson, silky, hugging every curve like it had been poured over your body. The neckline dipped just enough to tease, the slit up the side showed a dangerous amount of leg with every step, and the way the fabric shimmered under the lights made you feel like sin wrapped in elegance.

Clay stood frozen beside the open car door, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. His usual messy hair was tamed for once, tux fitting his tall frame perfectly, but it was the hunger in his gaze that made your stomach flip.

“Fuck…” he breathed, voice low and reverent. He stepped closer, hands sliding around your waist like he couldn’t stop himself. “You look… Jesus, baby. You’re jaw-dropping. Absolutely stunning.” His thumbs traced small circles on your hips through the silk. “I can’t stop staring. I don’t want to stop staring.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest even as heat pooled lower. “Clayton…”

“No, seriously,” he murmured, leaning in so his forehead rested against yours. His voice dropped, needy and rough around the edges. “You’re so fucking beautiful it hurts. I’ve been thinking about peeling this dress off you since I picked you up. We could skip the whole prom thing… go straight to the hotel room. I’ll make it worth it, I swear. I’ll worship every inch of you until you can’t even remember your own name.”

He looked at you with those big blue puppy eyes—desperate, loving, and already half-hard just from looking at you. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as if the mere idea of letting you walk into prom like this was torture.

You laughed softly, cupping his face and pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to his lips. He chased your mouth when you pulled back, making a small, disappointed sound that was pure needy puppy.

“Keep it in your pants, babe,” you teased, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. “We have a prom to attend first.”

He groaned, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply, lips brushing your skin. “You’re killing me, you know that? One hour. Max. Then you’re mine.”

You slipped your arm through Clay’s as you both walked toward the decorated gym entrance, the bass from the music already thumping through the walls. His hand stayed glued to the small of your back, fingers tracing the silky fabric like he was mapping out exactly how he’d take it off later. Every few steps he’d lean down and whisper how fucking perfect you looked, his voice low and husky, sending little shivers down your spine.

Halfway to your table, a freshman—some lanky kid with messy hair and a nervous grin—stepped right into your path, eyes wide as he took you in.

“Wow… you look really beautiful tonight,” he said, voice cracking just a little. “Like, seriously stunning. Um… could I get your Snapchat? Maybe we could talk sometime?”

You opened your mouth to answer politely, but Clay beat you to it. He pulled you closer against his side, chest puffing out just a bit as he gave the kid a surprisingly soft, almost polite smile.

“Hey, man. I’m Clay—her boyfriend,” he said, voice warm but firm, the puppyish need from earlier still lingering in the way he looked at you. He even offered a small, awkward wave with his free hand. “She’s taken. Really taken.”

The freshman’s face flushed red and he mumbled an apology, backing off quickly. Clay looked down at you with that adorable, proud little grin, like he’d just defended your honor in the cutest way possible. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple, murmuring, “See? I can be civil. But God, baby… watching guys look at you like that is driving me insane already.”

You laughed softly and squeezed his hand, about to tease him again—until a sophomore swaggered over, taller and cockier than the freshman, clearly drunk on the punch and the vibe of the night. His eyes dragged slowly down your body, lingering on the slit of your dress and the way the crimson fabric clung to your hips.

“Damn, sweetheart,” the sophomore drawled, ignoring Clay completely. “You’re the hottest girl here. That dress should be illegal. Forget him—come dance with me. I’ll show you a real good time.”

Clay’s entire body tensed beside you. The cute, polite boyfriend act vanished in a heartbeat. His jaw clenched, hand sliding possessively around your waist and pulling you flush against him. The puppy eyes were gone—replaced by something darker, hungrier, and unmistakably jealous.

Excuse me,” Clay said, polite but ice-cold, his tone classy and measured even as jealousy burned behind his eyes. “She’s with me. I’d appreciate it if you kept your comments and your eyes to yourself.”

The sophomore blinked, clearly caught off guard by Clay’s calm intensity. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Clay didn’t give him the chance. He pulled you closer, one arm wrapping fully around your waist in a protective, possessive hold that left zero room for misunderstanding.

“She’s not interested. Walk away.”

There was something so quietly commanding in his voice that the sophomore muttered a half-assed “whatever” and slunk off into the crowd, disappearing among the dancing bodies. The second he was gone, you turned in Clay’s arms, heart racing and heat flooding between your thighs at the sight of him like this.

“Wow…” you breathed, looking up at him with a wicked little smile. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re jealous, Clayton.”

Before he could respond, you grabbed the front of his tux jacket, pulled him down, and bit his bottom lip—hard enough to make him groan softly into your mouth. Clay’s hands immediately slid down to your hips, gripping you tighter as he kissed you back, deep and hungry.

He broke the kiss just enough to press his lips against your ear, voice rough and low, breath hot against your skin.

“I’m not jealous,” he whispered, the words dripping with possession. “I’m just protecting what’s mine. Because I’m the only one who knows exactly what’s under this dress… the way your skin feels against my hands, how wet you get when I touch you, how you moan my name when I’m buried so deep inside you no one else could ever reach.”

His fingers traced the slit of your dress, brushing dangerously high up your thigh for just a second, right there in the middle of the crowded gym.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark with lust and that raw jealousy still simmering. Then he leaned in again, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, low and filthy, every word dripping with need.

“I’m done waiting,” he growled softly. “I’m taking you to the car right now, baby. Gonna pull that dress up, spread those pretty legs wide open in the backseat, and eat your pussy until the only thing you can remember is my fucking name. I’m going to bury my tongue so deep inside you, suck on that swollen little clit until you’re shaking and dripping all over my face. You’re mine. And I need to taste what’s mine.”

A fresh wave of heat flooded between your thighs at his words. Your knees nearly buckled. Clay’s voice was still that perfect mix of sweet boyfriend and feral possessiveness—passionate, dirty, and completely obsessed with you.

He straightened up, eyes locked on yours, pupils blown wide. One of his hands slid down to intertwine with yours, squeezing gently even as he spoke like pure sin.

“Come on,” he murmured, already guiding you toward the exit with a protective arm around your waist. “Prom can wait. I can’t.”

You bit your lip, heart hammering, pussy already aching from the promise. The way he looked at you—like he wanted to devour you whole—made it impossible to say no.

Clay didn’t waste another second. His hand stayed firmly on your waist as he guided you through the crowd and out the side doors of the gym, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin the moment you stepped outside. The distant thump of music faded behind you, replaced by the quiet crunch of gravel under your heels as he led you toward the parking lot.

You couldn’t help it — a soft giggle escaped your lips, the excitement and pure filth of his earlier promise making you feel giddy and soaked at the same time. Clay glanced down at you, that hungry, lovesick smirk tugging at his mouth, and suddenly his hand slid lower, boldly palming and squeezing your ass through the silky dress.

“Mine,” he murmured, voice low and rough as he gave your ass another firm, possessive squeeze, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. “All mine. Only mine.”

He said it again, softer this time, almost like a chant as he kept groping you while walking, his touch greedy and unashamed.

“All fucking mine… only I get to touch this perfect ass. Only I get to feel how wet you are right now.” Another squeeze, harder, pulling you closer so your hip bumped against his. “Look at you, baby… giggling like you’re innocent when we both know your pussy is already dripping for me.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning into him as the two of you hurried between the rows of cars, the heat between your thighs growing unbearable. Clay’s hand never left your ass, kneading and claiming it with every step until you reached his car in a shadowed corner of the lot.

He spun you around, pressing your back against the side of the car, his body crowding yours as he captured your lips in a deep, messy kiss — all tongue and desperation.

“Get in the backseat,” he whispered against your mouth, giving your ass one last hard squeeze. “Right now.”

He pulled you into the backseat with him, hands rough and desperate as he dragged you onto his lap, the silky dress riding up your thighs. The second your bodies pressed together, he crashed his mouth against yours in a deep, hungry kiss — all heat and need, tongue sliding against yours like he was starving for you.

You moaned into his mouth and he bit down on your bottom lip, hard enough to make you gasp, the sharp sting melting into pleasure as he soothed it with his tongue.

“Fuck, baby…” he growled against your lips, voice thick with lust. Then his mouth moved lower, sucking and biting along your jaw until he reached your neck. He latched on, sucking hard, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that turned into dark hickeys almost instantly.

“You’re mine,” he murmured between bites, voice vibrating against your skin as he created another mark right below your ear. “Gonna leave my marks all over you so everyone at that fucking prom knows exactly who you belong to.”

His hands gripped your ass, pulling you down harder against the growing bulge in his pants while his lips and teeth worked your neck — sucking, licking, biting — painting your skin with possessive purple blooms. You tilted your head back, fingers threading through his hair, moaning softly as the mixture of pain and pleasure made your pussy throb.

Clay pulled back just enough to admire the fresh hickeys, eyes dark and satisfied, before diving back in to create another one lower on your collarbone, right where the neckline of your dress barely hid it.

“Gonna make sure you feel me for days,” he whispered hotly against your skin, biting down again.

He pushed your dress up roughly around your waist, the silky crimson fabric bunching high on your hips, exposing your soaked lace panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “Already dripping for me, baby.”

With one swift tug, he ripped your panties down your legs and off your heels. Instead of tossing them aside, he dangled the drenched lace in front of you for a second, smirking darkly, then reached forward and hooked them deliberately on the rearview mirror.

“Let everyone see,” he said, voice low and filthy. “Let them know exactly who this pussy belongs to while I’m buried between your thighs.”

He spread your legs wide, settling between them on his knees in the backseat. His mouth immediately found the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kissing and biting his way up. Slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses mixed with sharp little nips that made you jolt and moan. He sucked hard on one spot, leaving another dark hickey right where only he would see it when your legs were wrapped around him later.

“Mine,” he whispered against your thigh, licking a stripe up the sensitive skin before moving to the other leg. “All this pretty skin… these thighs… this soaked little cunt. Only I get to taste it. Only I get to wreck it.”

His breath ghosted over your dripping core as he teased you, kissing and biting everywhere except where you needed him most, making you squirm and whimper his name.

He pressed a single, feather-light kiss right on your swollen clit — so soft it was barely there. Then another. And another. Slow, gentle, torturous little kisses that made your hips twitch desperately toward his mouth.

He chuckled lowly, the vibration sending sparks through your core. The sound was warm, amused, and so fucking smug.

“Aw, baby,” he murmured against your pussy, lips brushing your clit with every word. “Look at you already squirming. I’ve barely even started.”

Another soft, lingering kiss — this time with just the tiniest flick of his tongue — before he pulled back again, smiling against your thigh like he had all the time in the world.

“Please, Clay…” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair, trying to pull him closer. “Stop teasing… I need you. Please.”

He laughed again, soft and dark, clearly loving how desperate you sounded. He gave your clit another achingly gentle kiss, then sucked lightly for half a second before pulling away completely.

“Mmm, I love when you beg like that,” he whispered, voice thick with lust. “So pretty when you’re falling apart for me. But I want to hear you say it louder, baby. Tell me exactly what you want my mouth to do to this pretty pussy.”

He kissed your clit once more — soft, slow, and way too innocent for how filthy the situation was — then looked up at you with those hungry puppy eyes now filled with pure devilish teasing, waiting for you to break.

Your fingers tightened desperately in Clay’s hair, hips rolling toward his teasing mouth as the ache between your legs became unbearable.

“Clay, please…” you gasped, voice shaky and needy. “I want your mouth on me. Suck my clit hard, fuck me with your tongue deep inside, don’t stop until I’m shaking. I need you to eat my pussy like you own it — make me cum all over your face, baby. Please.”

A dark, satisfied grin spread across Clay’s lips, his eyes flashing with pure hunger and love.

“That’s what I wanted to hear, baby girl,” he growled, voice low and rough. “Good girl.”

And then he devoured you.

Clay buried his face between your thighs like a man starved. His tongue dragged flat and heavy up your soaked slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit and sucking hard — exactly like you begged. The wet, filthy sounds filled the car as he licked and sucked with relentless passion, tongue flicking fast and perfect against that sensitive bundle of nerves.

He moaned loudly against your pussy, the vibration shooting straight through you. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he mumbled, barely pulling back before diving in again. His tongue pushed inside you, fucking you deep and messy while his nose rubbed against your clit. One of his hands gripped your thigh hard enough to bruise, holding you open for him as the other pressed down on your lower stomach, keeping you right where he wanted.

You cried out, back arching off the seat, legs trembling around his head. Clay didn’t let up for a second — sucking, licking, devouring every drop of you like he was addicted. His groans and the obscene wet sounds of his mouth working your dripping cunt only made you wetter.

He pulled back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny with your juices, eyes wild with possessiveness.

“Mine,” he snarled softly, before spitting on your clit and diving back in even harder, sucking your clit between his lips with filthy determination.

Then his tongue pushed inside you.

He fucked you with it — deep, relentless strokes, curling and thrusting like he was trying to reach every sensitive spot inside your dripping cunt. The wet, obscene sounds of his tongue plunging in and out of you filled the backseat, mixed with his hungry groans.

You couldn’t hold back.

“Clay— fuck!” you screamed, head thrown back against the seat, fingers yanking hard at his hair. Your voice echoed in the car as pleasure ripped through you. “Oh my god, yes— just like that!”

He moaned loudly against your pussy, the vibration making your walls clench around his tongue. He fucked you faster, harder, tongue driving in and out while his nose rubbed perfectly against your swollen clit. One of his hands slid up to press down on your lower belly, intensifying every thrust.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled between thrusts, voice muffled and filthy. “Scream for me. Let everyone fucking know who’s making this pretty pussy feel so good.”

You were already losing it — legs shaking violently around his head, hips bucking wildly against his face as you screamed his name again and again, louder and more broken each time. Tears of overwhelming pleasure pricked at your eyes while Clay kept tongue-fucking you like a man possessed, sucking and licking every drop like he couldn’t get enough.

He was completely lost in you — moaning, devouring, claiming — the perfect mix of sweet, possessive boyfriend and filthy lover.

Your screams filled the car, hips grinding desperately against his face as the pressure inside you built to something terrifying and perfect.

“Clay— fuck, I’m— I’m gonna—” Your voice broke into a loud, broken cry as the orgasm crashed over you like a wave.

You squirted.

Hard.

Your whole body shook violently as you came, hot liquid gushing out onto Clay’s tongue and face. It soaked his chin, his cheeks, dripping down his neck and onto the backseat. The sensation was overwhelming — your thighs clamping around his head, back arching so hard you nearly lifted off the seat.

Clay froze for half a second, eyes wide with pure shock as he pulled back just enough to watch it happen. His face was drenched, lips parted in surprise.

“Holy shit… baby—” he breathed, voice hoarse and stunned. “Did you just… fuck, that’s the first time you’ve ever done that for me.”

Then the surprise melted instantly into raw hunger. A deep, possessive groan ripped from his throat as he dove back in, mouth open wide, drinking every drop like he was dying of thirst. He licked and sucked messily, swallowing everything you gave him, tongue dragging through your pulsing folds to catch it all. His hands gripped your thighs bruisingly tight, holding you open while he moaned loudly against your soaked pussy.

“Fuck, you taste so good… give me more, baby girl,” he mumbled, voice muffled and wrecked as he kept drinking you down, licking you clean with filthy devotion. “That’s it… all for me. Only I get to make you squirt like this. Only me.”

He looked completely drunk on you — eyes glassy, face shining with your release, still gently licking and kissing your sensitive clit as the aftershocks made you twitch and whimper.

You slumped back against the seat, chest heaving, legs still trembling as the intense aftershocks rippled through your body. Your head was spinning, pussy still pulsing from the force of your orgasm. When your eyes finally focused, you noticed the mess — a visible wet spot on the front of Clay’s black tux jacket, shiny evidence of what you’d just done all over his face and clothes.

“Baby… I’m so sorry,” you breathed, voice hoarse and embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to—”

Clay cut you off with a low, wrecked chuckle, wiping his glistening chin with the back of his hand before looking up at you with pure adoration and raw hunger in his eyes. His face was still soaked, hair messy from your fingers, and that wet spot on his jacket only seemed to turn him on more.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he growled softly, crawling back up your body and hovering over you. “You just gave me the best fucking excuse to skip the rest of that dance. We’re leaving. Right now. I’m taking you straight to the hotel because if I don’t get inside you in the next ten minutes, I’m gonna fuck you raw right here in the backseat. I don’t care who sees.”

His voice was thick with need, possessive and loving all at once. He leaned down, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, still sensitive and dripping.

But you didn’t want to wait either.

“Why wait until the hotel?” you whispered against his lips, a naughty smile tugging at your mouth. You grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked him down hard, crashing your lips together in a filthy, desperate kiss. Your tongue slid against his as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer so you could feel how painfully hard he was against your soaked core.

Clay groaned loudly into your mouth, hips grinding instinctively against you, hands sliding under your bunched-up dress to grip your bare ass.

“Fuck, baby… you’re gonna kill me,” he panted between kisses, biting your bottom lip. “You’re so fucking perfect. So mine.”