#i finished it and i really want to draw some of it but. the ouch is here i cant.

[capslocked]

PROXIMITY

male reader x chou tzuyu

25k words

You’re not a bad person. And you know how that sounds apropos of nothing - defensive, unscrupulous - but it’s true. You’re like anybody else: full of mistakes, but good, mostly. 

You are also aware of the way she looks at you. None of that has changed.

The slight quirk at the corner of her lips. A flicker, a smirk. A game, all doe-eyed and deep dimpled - she's playing the seduction one. It isn’t subtle, and you're losing by proxy. So you're backtracking, drawing your conclusions; you're reading into the line of her jaw, the fall of her hair. Measuring the weight behind each blink.

"You were wrong by the way," Tzuyu starts, indifferent. Through some act of divine retribution, she laughs. "Because to tell you the truth, I used to have, like, the biggest crush on you."

She’s young, and - well, she’s a lot of things. A terrible idea. Incredibly off-limits. She is anathema, red tape, an original sin. You shake your head at her, smile fading - which for anyone keeping score, is an admonishment, however faint.

Because Chou Tzuyu, you recognize, is categorically, unequivocally: never supposed to happen.

-

If you want a read on your current dilemma, then this is how it pans out:

You’re walking headfirst into one of the multiple terrible, terrible scenarios you've probably had an anxiety dream about. It’s an ambush, really.

There’s the text from Mina, explaining all the ins and outs of her winter hideaway, the logistical whereabouts, and the pinched photo from the outside, the endless winding driveway, the clearing in the woods. The remote location, the unfussed snow, the towering trees. There are no neighbors to speak of, just seclusion and isolation and that makes you, among the seven billion or whatever, the only one who will know precisely how fucked you are.

The door to the cabin swings open on its hinges. You kick the snow off your boots, and the air smells indistinctly of peppermint tea.

It’s a cozy place, you think. A slightly rustic aesthetic. There’s a pair of skis decommissioned over the mantle. Mina, as usual, has good taste. You peek around: the foyer, the open living space, the wood finishes, the sunken fireplace. You almost make out a bathroom, through a half-opened doorway - and the kitchen, maybe, is nestled around the far corner.

You settle in, find your bearings, and start taking these leisurely steps down the hall.

That’s when you see her. Wearing a sweater that's a size too big, draped over her frame - sleeves tucked, exposing the barest hint of skin on her wrists, her delicate fingertips. You blink once, twice. That’s a dangerous flare. The rest of her, this canvas of pale skin and soft, endless legs, the hollowed stretch of inner thigh-

Actually, you know what, you are going to delete that out of your mind; as far as you're concerned, Tzuyu absolutely does not have her long, satin-like mahogany hair spilling over her shoulder, her bare legs poking out from under that bulky cotton blend, and she definitely, very absolutely has not given you a complete lack of boundaries, so it's more than plausible for her to slide onto a stool near the countertop with her painted-toes peeking out from beneath the folded press of her thigh (the pedicure, really, now?) and look over at you like you aren’t perfectly familiar with that goddamn face. Those eyes, that jaw.

And her collarbone is out too. Ouch.

Tzuyu rests her chin in one of her perfectly manicured hands, and tilts her head: she’s very blatantly checking you out.

The problem is, you’ve recognized her immediately.

Which - god, the bottom-lines, the blurred borders. It’s been years. She's twenty-three, twenty-four now, and as it turns out, she's taller than you remember. She's thinner, taller, actually a bit filled out too-

Right, okay, no. Just. Delete that image from the internal memory.

"Oh," you breathe, because there's not a single thing you're sure you’re supposed to do. It takes a split second too long to put the brakes on everything in your brain and say, "Tzuyu." It takes even more control not to tack an unthinkingly fond 'miss' to the front of her name - you're a god-honest lost hope - but at the last minute, you settle for, "hi."

It’s unnatural. She's actually somehow prettier than you remember, and the tousled brown curls flowing down her shoulder make it worse. She smiles, gently; this soft-spoken, "hey."

She’s at the kitchen island, holding a bowl of cereal and looking at you like she’s taking inventory. The strap of her bra is black, loose around the curve of her left shoulder; she's barefoot. Any other context, and it's your favorite kind of combination, basically: casual and messy and haphazard. Perfect. She's so tall, christ.

"We've met a few times," and she's not even phrasing it as a question - because she knows for a fact that you know her - and now, well, you can see how that's a problem.

"Yeah." You drop your bags. "Nobody said anything about anyone being here, so, I'm just a little-"

“Relieved?” Tzuyu tries, and if it sounds conceited, you’ve imagined it.

“Surprised,” you amend, quickly. There is a massive amount of distance currently between the both of you - several feet and an island counter to top it off. That's good, you think.

Tzuyu runs her hands over the top of her hair, a half-effort at putting it up into some sort of a ponytail, or maybe a bun. You see now that her nails are bare. "I'd heard from Mina," she starts, "that Sana was coming here-"

And you watch, absentmindedly, as Tzuyu slides down off her chair. You watch her too carefully almost, for a beat. You want to follow the length of her legs with the same ease and shamelessness - like it's instinct or just expected; it's ridiculous and wrong to think, but-

"-with, uh, someone. She left it purposefully vague." Tzuyu finishes, then pauses. Her gaze slides across you. If the awkward stretch of silence is weird, she doesn't comment on it. “Then I heard the flight got delayed because of all the snow."

"Just Sana’s," you correct, and that's not information you should be simply giving away. She just stands there, blinking up at you.

"Huh," she says, eyebrow lifted - slower than is explicitly necessary, “so you’re like. All alone until she gets here.” She simply eats a spoonful of cereal, chews for a moment, and adds, “bummer.”

It’s true, in some sense. You sigh, rake a hand back through your hair, and your jacket falls further down on one of your shoulders; she drops her gaze down, almost imperceptibly, following the motion.

There is definitely a point where you could take notice of a lot of things, and they include, but are certainly not limited to: the fucking languor with which she is licking the yogurt off the back of her spoon, her stupidly long eyelashes fanning on the tops of her cheeks when she glances down, the frankly risque neckline of her sweater. Those kinds of things. Those kinds of details. Really, you wouldn’t dare.

"It sounds like she’ll be getting in tomorrow evening," you decide to inform her, though she didn't ask, and now she nods, focusing still on the yogurt and granola at the bottom of her bowl.

You walk into the kitchen. Rap your knuckles on the countertop. Tzuyu’s right there, and your mind is filling up with images you could really do without. That's the unfortunate, traitorous nature of all this: in any universe, Chou Tzuyu fawns over you. And she will, on accident or purpose, test you. And as for your hesitation - that's an instinct that gets activated every time you so much as meet Tzuyu in person, this invasive little impulse. 

"Well," Tzuyu says, way too casually. “It’s just us then.”

"Yeah." you agree, stilted. “Just us.”

"There's wine," she decides, tilts her head. Then, matter of factly, "and coffee, hot cocoa. Mina’s more or less stocked on everything."

Her voice hits the room all nice, sweet, syrupy - god, fuck, maybe there's a window or a door here somewhere that you're supposed to open to clear the air, but when you look, there’s frost on the glass; it’s the subalpine frigidity. Tzuyu flashes you this other sort of glance - her teeth scrape the rounded spoon's tip before her lips fully fix around it. The drowsy, delirious feeling is almost involuntary at this point.

"I should unpack my things, is what I should do, probably," and now you are saying things for the sake of saying them, as an escape. "Hey, seriously. Sorry for the inconvenience."

“Don’t be,” she tells you. "The weather isn't anybody's fault."

(Here, a premonition. You look at Tzuyu, who raises an eyebrow back.)

The next logical move is: leave. Tzuyu folds her long limbs back up onto the stool, and you're - trying not to look. You're also trying not to do it consciously, actively - you're not, and not. You fail, like you did a few years ago, too - the eyes have a bad habit of wandering. She's made of porcelain, all thin wrists, thin neck, soft curves and delicate lines. She's made out of glass - she’s at her most dangerous when you’ve gone and broken her.

It’s possible, you think, she could break you too.

-

Look, contextually - it’s Murphy’s law, or maybe your own very specific curse. A lot of stuff happens, so here’s a rough draft, your best effort at an approximation, a smudged-pencil sketch:

Tzuyu has been on vacation in the Alps from the start of the week, or maybe the week prior - she's alone in this stupidly big cabin you're supposed to be meeting Sana in for two weeks and change of pure unadulterated, hedonistic fun. Skiing, lounging, stargazing, drinking, screwing, consummating a situationship. You know the drill.

However there ends up being an actual, literal avalanche - with snow and rocks and ice and whatever the fuck - the power goes out, and you can only assume the whole mountain's gone dark. It's like a classic, a cautionary tale: hey, dude, you're on vacation with this drop-dead gorgeous girl who will let you do whatever you want to her - in the name of love and lust and a loosely legal liability. She says she'll be yours forever, except you also heard her say that the universe is entitled to laugh at you, a bit - so you do something you'll regret (which, okay, you've done countless things you'll regret) and now you're getting punished for it, and so is the stunning temptress currently shivering in the bed next to you. Seriously, whatever you do, do not fuck her, don't let her get too attached, because oh, man - Tzuyu really likes to make herself comfortable, huh? To nestle herself into your arms, let her hand stroke circles in the dark fabric of your t-shirt, warm her cold nose into your chest, and cuddle the night away. She's so easy to give in to, isn't she? This walking, talking paradox of everything she's not supposed to be and everything she'll willingly do anyway - there's her expression, placid and rapturous in equal measures, the sleepy mumbles against your skin that sound like prayers, her damp breaths.

You should know better. You should know that this is the universe, laughing its ass off at you.

And just for the record, there is sound reason for everyone to feel, in some sense, extremely concerned by the narrative that your life has slowly, unceremoniously devolved itself into.

The first time you meet Chou Tzuyu is years ago. She’s dramatically, devastatingly, problematically, young.

It was all happening before you could really clock it, and it was morally reprehensible, and it was, in fact, probably all your own doing.

And it’s even more obvious in retrospect: how she would react to the way you reach back and ruffle your hair when you laugh, the casual appeal of your smile, the depths of your tone, how you cut it as close as you can get it. A girl will trip all over herself to let you look after her; that’s the basic blueprint, that's the default. See, you're in your twenties, an adult - not having figured out much, but having certainly figured out this - and it's very much not lost on you that the girl should not be flirting with you - but she does, and the very worst of it is: you let her.

“Are you out of your mind?” Jihyo had said at the time, and, in fairness, yeah. That more or less sums it up.

So you end up making a point of never getting to know her, to always keep the conversation nonexistent. Or in the worst case scenario, brief - on surface level topics. The weather. Your job. Food. If you like her sunglasses. (They look protective, you’d told her, very practical. Very safe.) It's the essentials, a light, professional rapport - never once crossing the border from casual conversation to candid disclosure. 

She's infatuated, of course. You're not mincing words here. It's actually rather unfortunate, how gone she is for you. You could’ve probably stood to dial it back; you, and your charm. Your smiles.

Because Chou Tzuyu was however many years young, very much off-limits - and like a lot of people it seems, totally hooked on your whole deal.

-

(Theoretically, that's how it all starts. Which is why, pragmatically, you will never, ever lay a finger on her.)

-

So, the plan to get through this was simple and to the point and as follows:

* Avoid unnecessary physical contact

* Maintain social distance, in fact - something covid-esque sounds great, about six feet

* Do not offer opinions/advice unless specifically asked

* Minimize speaking, just to be safe

* Do not exchange gifts, especially personal ones

* Be wary of the temptation to take a voluntarily-tipsy Tzuyu to bed, because you'll want to - and god knows Tzuyu will make it extremely clear that you could; this is exactly how shit turns south-

* Adjust and reframe

* Reinforce

* Remind yourself

* To just fucking think about literally anything else

It was working fine, so far - really fine, especially if you consider how early into the stay you're sitting there, telling yourself off in the bathroom mirror, get it together, you dumbass. What is wrong with you, don’t you know better by now - before an unapologetic knock on the door snaps you out of it, and the click of the door opening a moment later forces a heavy inhale from your chest: you just need a fucking second, thanks - not a half-decent excuse or a rearrangement, not a careful restructure, just a split second in your own head; that's not even the sort of thing you're prone to needing, because it's you, but with Chou fucking Tzuyu-

A soft breathy laugh, "are you okay in here?"

Tzuyu pokes her head into the room, her hair a wavy curtain that tumbles down past the middle of her back. You have this vague, fleeting impulse to run your fingers through it.

"Well," and there goes all the shit you'd managed not to think about, or contemplate, or dwell upon for that one glorious, naive, misinformed second. "Sort of," you say, offering her a quick glance.

"Really?" Tzuyu says, not catching onto the whole existential crisis thing. "Is there anything else you need? I mean," and then your eyes fall upon her; she's put a sweater on, pants, which all things considered, is a huge victory, a total rout - her baggy sweater drapes on her, practically brushing her thigh where the material stops, the hem. "I guess not, just. Um," her teeth catch her bottom lip for a quick moment, and this time she glances back towards the hall, the granite-finish tiles. "Wanna make s'mores?"

"What," you ask, because honestly, what the actual fuck-

"I went into town to get fresh groceries earlier this week. Everything just kinda landed in my cart," she says, the beginning of an explanation - the backstory, if you will. "And there's a fireplace. Momo always says the calories don't count if it's social eating, so." She makes a small shrug.

"Oh,” you say, like you understand. Your throat feels tight. “She’s totally right.”

She offers you a small nod. Tucks her hair behind her ear. You wonder if she knows how suggestive even the smallest of gestures she makes are; and more so, if she does it knowingly, or simply without thought - if it's a facet of her own effortlessness.

"Um," you say, for no particular reason other than that Tzuyu is fucking distracting. "Okay."

The edges of her mouth tick upwards at that. "We could put something on the tv,” she suggests. “For the vibe."

"Oh yeah, for the ambience."

"For the ambience," she nods.

(And fuck her, seriously. You might be a goner already.)

-

"A winter weather advisory," Tzuyu reads, squinting slightly at the tv. A minute later: "Just stay home," followed by another pause, and a frown: "hail and ice too. Yeah, no kidding."

She's reading the weather report. You're pretending you have any idea how to work the fireplace while she sets her eyes on the news, hands running over the blankets she has huddled around herself - legs folded, tucked into the edge of her chest. She'd gotten as far as logging into her Netflix account before the suggestion of cuddling was so obviously implied, her hands patting the cushioned space beside her that you were required by moral law to flip through the cable options until you found the least sexy, least rom-com-y option you could find: a newscaster reporting on the ongoing inclement weather, a forecaster saying 'near zero chance of improving, so travel is heavily discouraged, we strongly advise against-'

"Wonder if Sana's even going to make it," Tzuyu breaks the relative silence, and you are acutely aware of how casual she has been referring to Sana, the complete and utter lack of jealousy or any emotion related - or you guess, inspired. She's not even the slightest bit irked. “If the airport opens, maybe," she adds, and, after a beat, "let's hope."

-

It gets colder. You can barely see three feet past the front door. The forecast only gets worse, the storm intensifies and swells, it snows and snows - and this isn't a cottage somewhere on the lake, you're a couple miles down a single-track, woodsy road, far, far away from society.

-

If only these walls could talk, honestly. You're like, caught in a moment. With Tzuyu and marshmallows and these tiny, sticky wooden skewers. This is a story you will tell nobody, ever.

"I don’t mean to say I told you so," she says, but it comes out with a mouthful of chocolate and graham cracker, and marshmallow, which sort of takes the bite out of it. "But the movie is a little more entertaining."

You pretend like you weren't staring at her mouth a beat prior. "Right, a cinematic masterpiece." 

Tzuyu tugs a marshmallow off the stick, and looks over at you again. Smiles around the impromptu pastry. She's just such a bright, wholesome thing - soft-hearted, selfless, so innocuous and so pleasant. It's absolutely sick. You have a fucking pavlovian response to Tzuyu simply existing.

And you’re pretending like the white, tacky remains on her mouth haven't permanently solidified that look into memory: the melted chocolate, the whipped sugar, the dimple. You could really do without this specific feeling - for however much longer it'll last, should the storm linger.

"You don’t ever have stuff like this, just for a quiet, carefree time?" Tzuyu licks it off her skin, and the question kind of drags your attention elsewhere.

You breathe in, slow.

Maybe she can feel it too, you think. Because Tzuyu drags the pad of her thumb against her bottom lip, and a question she doesn't ask flickers to life in her gaze: if you'll break or not, if there is an absolute limit.

But it’s impossible to read her. Tzuyu takes up this real easy-going disposition, all quiet and stoic, sort of, and maybe that's the dangerous part of her - the stillness. Other moments, she has this uncanny knack for conversation. She's charming in that way, you have always thought, a bright face. She has a keen understanding of things too - maybe sometimes too much; maybe a little bit beyond her years, really, a little too knowledgeable.

"When the gang does," you answer, diplomatically. “Sure, I suppose.”

There's another smile at that, which is how you know that the back and forth, this coolly cool, somewhat-stiff exchange is sort of becoming a game. A bet on who cracks, who turns. She won't tell you it's you, and you'll never in your right mind acknowledge her. It's some version of honesty. A bit like Russian roulette.

"I used to think we were friends, you know," she muses, like it's some great mystery - all very deliberately cryptic. Like it's funny.

"Hey, you were like, a teenager," you're grasping at straws. You’re spinning the bullet round the conversational chamber. “And I have this thing-”

"You have a thing?" Her eyebrow is raised again - sweetly challenging.

"-like, a principle, a standard - if there's nothing there, and let's face it: there's really not something here-"

"Aw," Tzuyu fakes pouting, which is simultaneously very mean and also like, painfully hot, and she makes this pitiful coo, "you really have nothing to say at all, do you."

Which. Fuck, she’s right. The 'thing' here is the no touching, the no messing, the no making anything resembling a move. She's sitting over there with her mouth covered in sugar, batting her goddamn eyelashes. Which you ignore, thank god for impulse control, or the instinct of it, and Tzuyu pushes a graham cracker past her lips to placate her own expression.

And so it goes. She keeps looking at you and looking and looking and you stare, transfixed, back at her. The edges of her jaw, the rise of her nose, the jutting curve of her collarbone; you say something dumb or clever and you're making her laugh, and every time she does, her teeth catch on her bottom lip and you could really do with a distraction right now, but it's impossible not to flirt. 

It's just the way the universe has constructed you - this starvation, a twisted desire. There’s cruelty in the design.

-

(Things take a turn for the worse, of course. You don’t know how, but she gets to you agree that you two should've gotten closer in all that time-

"Well, I’m sure you were just so busy," you'd shrugged, indifferent, and she'd pressed the sleeve of her sweater to her mouth, just to hide how bright the smile was.

-which, honestly, fuck you - given all the context. Because now she's right here in the cabin; she's an arm's length away, and all this time, you've meant to stay the fuck out of reach.) 

-

Tzuyu does the worst thing. She returns from the kitchen, hands full, with two squat tumblers and a bottle of dark brandy. She sets one down next to you and asks if you want some.

You look. You mean, what are you even supposed to do? It's a catch twenty-two, it's a joke - what can a girl be thinking, standing there. Bending the right way, hair framing a face like hers.

Yeah, sure - it’s the voice of someone who's slipping, who’s gonna say the same thing three more times. "Hm, why not."

The ice clinks against the glass. Then, the pour. Toast to good health, a clean conscience, safe passage; you’ll take whatever you can get. 

You watch Tzuyu knock back an impressive amount and make an impressive face. There’s maturity there, you cope. Because you want to touch her jaw, thumb over her cheekbone, breathe baby, it's too strong, slow down on her lips, watch her mouth open slightly-

The fire pops.

She leans toward you. “Are you going to keep stealing stories from me, or are you going to supply anything good to the discussion?"

"About me, personally?" you say, purposefully pedantic.

Tzuyu’s smirk is half-present, half-playful. She sets down her tumbler on a coaster - Mina would be appreciative - and hums at you. “What do you think I mean?”

"I was really hoping the inflection would help clarify."

She levels a gaze with you. You fight back for a hot second - this slow-burning heat under the skin, your resolve threatening to buckle, shatter, spill itself everywhere - and in the end, she is the one that looks away, softly laughing, a pfft under her breath. You’re left the opportunity to just - look. See where the glow from the wood-burning fire has cast this gorgeous gold over her face, all her defined curves, her delicate features.

"I don't care, it could be anything," she poses, settling back into the pillows. Smiling. "Please. Entertain me."

Her cheeks are rosy. You realize, quite suddenly, you are not totally sober either. This is exactly how Sana talked you into something however many moons ago, then however many moons later, surgically unattached all the strings. Sana’s good at talking. At convincing. And you don't do shots like her, or apparently like Tzuyu does - but hell, it's that maddening, pretty little dimple of hers - the one that's always there when she does her mischievous smirk - a deeply devastating look, a devil-may-care demeanor, and you're dead-drunk on it, honestly.

"Want me to talk about Sana?" you offer, "seems like an obvious choice."

"I think you’re projecting," Tzuyu teases. “You just miss her, I'm sure.”

"Mhm. Sure."

Tzuyu makes a noise halfway between a chuckle and a snort, and draws the blankets more tightly around her. "What," she says, nonplussed, "who doesn't want to hear some gossip about their friends?"

You're fucking up, right? Fucking up the same way you did years ago when you caught the wrong kind of feeling for an entirely, altogether inappropriate woman. But you'll blame the drinks. And the mood. And the ambience, the fucking fire that's almost suffocating, the closeness of her body next to you-

"Hey," you say, and it's such a mistake. You're pointing to a spot on your chin. You're making it worse. "You got a little, uh-"

You watch as she lifts her hand, glides it through the air - brushes her own cheek with her fingertips, smoothing out an imagined blemish.

"Did I get it?"

"Uh, well, sorta-" and she knows you’re lying.

Tzuyu tries again. Comes up short, and when her hair falls in front of her face, she’s looking at you like maybe you’ll help take care of that too. She’s a total fucking coquette - though maybe she hasn’t even done it on purpose, maybe she's just that unaware, innocent. Not the second one, you figure. You're leaning, tilting closer and closer to her - in any other scenario, there'd be the shortest possible time between her touching herself and you, cupping her jaw with one of your hands.

But your mouth feels like it's moving of its own accord. "No, wait, let me help you," you continue, before you know it. 

Isn’t it disastrous; all ice and hazard, this is the advisory in effect; a napoleon-goes-to-russia caliber calamity, a colossal write off, a write in. You could have, should have stopped, except you didn't and now you're reaching, gently, until your palm cups the side of her face - until you press, until you hold her steady. Her head tilts. She lets you, blinking up. Her eyes are this hazy, intoxicated coffee-brown, honeyed and burnt and fucking beautiful.

You swipe your thumb along her bottom lip. The gesture is slow, languid, intentional; you think, through some cosmic error, that might just be the end of it.

"There," you say, smiling, naive.

"Yeah," Tzuyu breathes out, and she winds her fist into the fabric of your shirt. "Thanks."

You lean, or she does; you go down, or she pulls you; there's no difference, really.

She is kissing you, this soft little press. A tug in every direction. You hadn’t kissed her, at the very start, but when her fingers thread through your hair, gripping hard, bringing you closer until you groan, parting your lips slightly, and - and her tongue flits past yours - your brain does this wild mental leap that you ought to be questioning later.

But everything starts to sink. 

One of your hands lands on her waist, thumb slipping under the hem of her sweater and pressing against bare skin, and her knee nudges between both of your legs - until Tzuyu hums this low, pretty sound in her throat. There is something fervent here, all-consuming, devouring; her mouth moves like it's frantic for air, for oxygen and fuel, and her whole body melts under yours like she's completely falling apart.

Fuck, you think. There is a deep, smouldering heat in the pit of your stomach.

Because she’s perfect. You always knew that, didn’t you. She is firelight and perfume and muted gold; everything else falls into shadow, fades into the background. Her lips are velvet-soft, and they open again and again with these heavy exhales of hot air - so much so that you have to shift the hand you'd set on her waist lower, a little, her hip bone under your palm, a touch ghosting towards the dip and the swell.

Somehow you have this knowledge: at the end of everything, it'll be her name falling helplessly off your tongue.

"You were wrong by the way,” she stops to say. 

"About-" You press another kiss into her jaw, and her mouth parts around the same slow sigh. "Wait." You lean back enough to look at her again.

“Whatever you said earlier." Tzuyu’s eyes go half-lidded as she starts petting your hair back into place, thumb stroking your jawline. "I'd have made time."

Oh, christ-

"Because to tell you the truth," her tongue wets her lip, shiny, wet, "I've never really forgotten. Like I just thought, that whole thing was so… fleeting, you know, like the last time, when you let me text you - god, I was crushing so hard."

You breathe, shaking your head. 

"Don’t," is what comes out of your mouth after, quick, sharpened. 

“Don’t what?” Tzuyu taunts, pushing another inch further. That small grin on her face, her long, nimble fingers combing through your hair. 

You are trying to think, and there was an apology, right? You'd had this one in you. The one that began as a guilty soliloquy, a rueful acknowledgement; something that should have been directed toward Tzuyu, told her, at one point, or another: look. Sorry it's like this.

But there is a hand tracing the collar of your shirt - a sensation that follows all the way to the base of your throat; you lean further into her touch, almost involuntarily - a simple motion, and yet. "You shouldn't. You shouldn't say things like that to me," and you mean: these things you already know. "It's not good."

"Doesn't feel that bad," she tells you, a breezy sort of whisper, warm. "I think I'm getting the opposite impression."

"Maybe for the wrong reasons," you remind her. And to remind yourself, actually. "Probably for the wrong reasons - trust me, it is.”

"Trust you," and it’s the slightest bit ridiculing, a tease - Tzuyu drops her smile, pulls you in by the hair, whispers low. "Sure," the syllable soft, pressed against your throat, "I trust you not to hurt me," and the 'not' gets hung on for an impossibly long moment, stretched out thin. 

She's sinister; she has to be, or some amalgamation of the most potent version of every word she’s ever said. A dream girl, the definition and essence of a temptress, this shameless attraction - an insistent siren begging for your attention; the incepting mind-game; the entity that stalks the halls in the deepest trenches of the night, whispering your worst fears right into your ear. You fall further into Tzuyu, the prettiest of nightmares.

(Oh, it's the dimple that does you in, really: if there's any possible way that Chou Tzuyu has unintentionally ruined your life, she's done it with that innocent little smile.)

"You can kiss me again," Tzuyu says, permissive.

And you do. You kiss her, and kiss her like you’ve no choice - like you've decided, at least in this very moment, if Tzuyu can own a piece of your soul, you can take something too.

-

(The thing about a cautionary tale: sometimes it is really just a story. Sometimes it happens and the world is left unscathed. There were a lot of warning signs, yes. But this could be a coda, a moralistic adage, a story to turn the page on and laugh and be embarrassed by and say, oh, no, I'd definitely do better; a blip. We’d never do anything like that. It's all history, honestly.)

-

It's not romantic, and it's less gentle than you’d have expected: Tzuyu bites your lip at one point, and you grab her hip so hard she yelps. The pause in the after is filled with a provocation, a stare, a tilt of your head, and her saying, “hey, easy now.” You cup her face in your hands, and run your thumb over lips. The calm is pretty short-lived. She gets her hands working frantically to tear your shirt off over your head. Then it's a haphazard stumble into the doorframe of the bedroom, with her pulling you in too-hard by the waist, bumping your nose against hers in this rough meeting - until your lips fit together. 

“Mm,” Tzuyu’s mouth pushes insistently into yours and your tongue immediately laves at its underside, coaxes it to slide against yours and soon she’s sliding forward on purpose - on her own initiative, pressing the steady line of your cock against the seam of your pants, the pressure sudden.

"Watch it," you murmur, breaking away a little to glare at her, which just makes her smile, like she likes pissing you off or something, likes watching you get mad at her, or whatever - if she says it's true, then it is, probably - she's honest.

Her small hand darts up, gripping the sides of your jaw tightly and moving in, kissing like it's easy; like she knows what the fuck she's doing. Her head tilts and she does it again, except it's a few times in a row, making out in the doorway. 

"And if I say no?" She grins, hand at your dick again, just palming through the fabric and getting off on your soundless reactions to it all. "Like, is that really enough? I feel like you'd have to like - tie me up. Something - you know?"

"That sounds like a you problem."

A mischievous smile steals across her lips and you feel yourself doing the same. "Yeah, you're right," she responds, dragging her thumb and forefinger from the zipper of your jeans to the hard line of your cock, pinching gently along the shape. "It is my problem."

She feels pliant, more than willing, but it's a calculated type of softness. Still, you get a hint, a vague message and you figure, the way this girl's smirking in her lips: she likes being held down, held fast and steady, so you pin her wrists above her head - her eyes stay on you, don't drop; you pin her, and her expression becomes that shade more dark, more teasing. Oh, you'll go slowly, you think, until Tzuyu gives. You'll climb a hand further under her sweater, let it skim over her ribs. You'll kiss her again, open-mouthed, and slow, until she can't breathe.

Her head knocks into the wall, she bites and smiles like a promise, and all her muscle flexes under your grip. "Oh, seriously," Tzuyu whispers into your mouth. "Y'know, this is like a fantasy of mine.”

And that's kind of it: she has that look. In the morning, you can see yourself chasing her down into sheets - just pinning her with the weight of your whole body, feeling each tensed curve of her against you. She pulls you closer, into her; she seems the type.

"I’d really rather not hear that, Tzu.”

"And I want to hear you say please, more than anything," Tzuyu laughs at herself, something hard in it, "but I think you want to fuck me so bad, it'll come naturally. Like, the second you have your fingers inside me. And that's what you want, right? Tell me."

"I'm thinking about your legs,” you tell her, running your palm around the curve of her thigh. Fuck, she’s perfect. “Think they'd fit around my waist."

"And hook my ankles? I’d love that." Her eyes crinkle. "Is that it, though?"

"Maybe I'd keep my hand on your throat and fuck you like that, too. That's on the table."

Tzuyu laughs: a real, actual sound, but not at you. "It is. You're smart."

"To be completely transparent," you mutter. "I don't plan on asking you very nicely at all."

The lines in Tzuyu's face go a little blissful, contented, like she's so, so pleased with this, like she approves, and she kisses you again, the length of your bodies pressed together, except where her hips cant up and meet the space between your thighs. You drag a hand roughly along her waist, kneading muscle there, down to the rise of her jeans - which, fuck, you need to help her shimmy out of and find the pull of the sweater, whatever - and she grinds out some noise, something caught between her throat and her teeth, but mostly in the place where your hand's dragged under the material, tugging gently at the wire of a bra, and you'd actually kind of forgotten it was a thing.

It's when you hear her own rasp, when she slips the side of your zipper open with a few quick strokes, shoving her fingers inside to hold the base of your cock, that you finally decide:

She's yours and you'll prove it. You'll make sure she knows: the evidence, the fingerprints,  the bruises blooming the size of your thumbs and she'll be the one showing them off with pride. She'll let you do whatever you like, which'll be a lot. She'll appeal to all the worst parts of you; she'll say thank you; she'll whimper while you're pulling her bra off and simply letting it flutter to the ground; she'll be crying within the first half an hour of you touching her. You can read it right off her gorgeous face. She'll be so damn breathtakingly-pretty, bouncing on your cock, folded under your weight - it'll be incredible. She'll be yours.

"Come on," Tzuyu breathes. "Yes. Please," she adds, as though it's an afterthought, her free hand tangling in your hair, pulling. "Hurry, or something - I fucking love this but we need to- I’m literally going to, like, die if you don’t touch me right now."

"Yeah," is what you get out. Her jeans finally fall to her ankles and she kicks, to get them to puddle onto the floor. "Yeah. Alright, maybe."

You won't even need to hear her begging, you already know how she sounds: a little annoyed and very turned on, rolling her eyes at herself. This part - she's playing at resistance, but she's giving in. A kiss back, hotter than you were expecting, as you slip a hand up the back of her bare thigh and the edge of her underwear, a thin strip, like it's done on purpose.

When you tuck a finger inside the waistband, feeling a little guilty about the way her whole body reacts - the flex, the pull, the weight of all her muscle straining against how her legs fall open - Tzuyu manages, her face in the hollow of your cheek: "you've waited long enough, right?"

God, she knows where the wounds are still fresh. Which bruises will hurt most when she puts a finger right into one - a reminder you couldn't possibly ignore. She's playing this whole thing a little bit sadistically; she wants this to be your fault, you can tell.

And your mind isn't unbending. You push a finger into her cunt and the girl absolutely shakes apart, body jerking like you've severed a lifeline. She's so wet, and so pretty, so sensitive. Maybe you really have.

"Tzu," you tell her. The hand in your hair tightens, a warning, as you let two, then three, fingers shove inside her. She's breathless; the slow, rough motions, her entire body riding the heel of your palm. "Do you want me to tell you how good you are for me, right now? Is that it?"

"Yeah - do. Please, fuck - please say it."

"I was right," is what you manage, biting your tongue.

"Right?" She asks, her fingers locked, urging your thrusting to turn punishing. "Please."

"Do you want me to make this a nice, pretty little memory? Suck the bitterness out and - have something sweet to go back to, the next time someone hurts you."

"I can take it." She snaps, not even responding to your comment. "Tell me you need me and you're leaving me no choice."

You smile into her hair, because she's a dream. Your thumb pushes into her clit and you can feel her seize up with a pathetic whine.

"Pretty," you mutter, as she slumps her chest to yours. You kiss it right into her hair. “I need you, Tzu.”

And the idea's seductive: keep her pinned and fuck her right into the wall. See her wrecked by the end; the swell of her thumb bloody from how she was biting into it, how she's wrenching at your wrist. Your lips land over her collarbone - no, hers do, to the side of your head - she'd be bent in half if it wasn't for the wood at her back. Her leg crossed in the small of your back. A proper, all-consuming kind of wrecking, with your name on it.

"Yes." Tzuyu nods into your temple, “just- that.” 

You're kissing the crook of her neck; your fingertips sliding right against the end of her, your fingers pressing into her and stretching the girl to her limits, making her tremble in her own skin, making her insides melt for the next round, and the next round, and the next; the best, and worst, and longest-lasting kind of high. Your fingertips push together, flutter apart, and Tzuyu's eyes open all of a sudden, locking onto yours.

"Please," she gasps, this one thing. She has tears in her eyes: her face falls into your hands like water, a long drip, and she's all but unraveling.

"I'm going to make you cum, okay?" you tell her, and it sounds so sincere that she simply nods. She trusts you. Implicitly. You see how something in her relaxes, muscles unwinding as though for one last moment. Then you lean down, to her ear, to murmur: "say you're mine."

Her teeth are gritting. You can feel every last point.

"Just yours," she mutters, and it's barely even audible, but she'll say it: over and over, as her orgasm builds, before her mouth goes slack. "Always been. From the very beginning, please-"

“Fuck,” you bite down, and she looks like she’s won.

“So long, y’know?” she manages, in her halting voice, as if you haven't got two fingers up her sweet, perfect cunt, which is, currently, gripping the shit out of your hand, the hungry slutty muscle spasms, a slippery fist; it's not too hard getting Tzuyu to talk dirty and vulgar like a total degenerate - all it takes is the circle of your thumb and she’s perfect and pliant and absolutely out of her mind. “Since like, forever-”

You need her to stop. Need her to be quiet. Your palm lands over the shape of her mouth. She's murmuring something else, but it's muffled - and that's perfect, really. You’re not going to hell; all the devils are already here, getting off on the impropriety-

On the fucking drag of your fingertips. If it isn’t mean, it’s definitely cynical. Each curl of a knuckle unwinding her, a little more, a little further. The gush of her slick that’s collected on the webbing between your fingers is getting unruly, and you’re pressing her mouth flat against your hand, muffling the sheer appreciation.

“Shh,” you tell her, and she seems to calm - insofar you find a spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back and her chest shudder. “Don’t. Hold still for me, I want to watch you cum, Tzu.”

The only thing you can hear beyond the stilted breathing against your hand is her wet cunt getting stretched and fucked on your fingers. It’s so simple. So straightforward. The front of her orgasm makes her jolt against your hips and you pin her again, just to see those gorgeous eyes opening and shutting in sync.

It's this beautiful thing, watching her cum; her flushed cheeks, her pupils blown.

"Good girl," is the only thing you manage in response. "Such a good - such a good little-"

She moans into your hand and finally the muscles of her core tighten, tipping over the precipice as she tips back from the edge. "Ah, you - oh, it feels so-”

You tell her not to talk, and thumb her sensitive clit until the girl's screaming.

Her cries cut through the hallway: the friction, your movements - she's grinding desperate to ride her own orgasm. The absolute highs wracking her silent. She doesn't seem capable of getting off her tiptoes, or opening her eyes properly. Her mouth's still gaping beneath your palm with a whimper, her lungs heaving, and her cunt practically burning-hot - or, she just is, she's overheating, and everything else is burning around her.

"I'm going to fuck your pretty little cunt, Tzu," you tell her as her hips jump and her eyes open. You drop her leg, which buckles instantly. "You're going to be good for me, won’t you?"

"Yes, sir," Tzuyu promises you - it makes you wince - like she'd say anything else, with her hips pushing into your hand like she can't remember how not to. 

Even with her brain turning to mush, Tzuyu finds it within her to tease, to pull, to coax - as her slick slides down the seam between your fingers, like she's gushing, a wet ribbon coating the backs of your knuckles. There's a fantasy in it, you think - and it's always the unapologetic type, like, they never admit it: they want the dirt, the debasing. There's always a blueprint to it; they want to hear how terrible it is and then have some fun playing into it, playing a part.

Only Tzuyu’s lip is wobbling; she’s looking at you like you’re going to fuck her apart and she’ll thank you for it. There's no play. Tzuyu wants your cum and she's so open-legged about it you can't pretend it's not exactly that simple.

She’s going to fall apart if you don’t shove your cock in her tight cunt. You need to pin her there - fuck her until she’s shaking. You can already see the face she’ll make when you shock yourself inside her-

"What is it, baby?" you ask her, and a beat later, you draw your zipper down with a steady hand, the other working in her mouth, pressing down the tip of her tongue - not exactly holding, not exactly pulling out of her.

Tzuyu sighs, heavy on her eyelids and slow. Very pretty.

"I want-" Her head is lolling. She's in a daze, now, you can tell: her mouth wet and trembling, her legs kicking weakly, a full-bodied tremor overcoming her. Everything wraps around you as your cock slides inside her: the pale-soft underside of her legs, her slender arms. All those lovely, endless tensed lines, her strong abs. She can hold you like this, with only her abdomen tightening, the rest of her almost liquid. Her head knocks into yours. "Fu-fuck my cunt, fill it, please.”

You use the angle, the approach. Her pussy's practically spasming on the thick tip, milking the hardness there - but the deeper, more confident strokes, you feel it in every one of her shaky breaths. The only thing you can see is Tzuyu's dumb little doe eyes, the one-to-two second interval, fluttering in between slow, heavy blinks. The walls of her pussy are all at once so gentle and smooth, her cunt a plush, warm vice on your cock; she's clinging, and hot, and you're so buried inside you could probably pick her apart with a few words alone:

"Please," she's muttering to herself, and every single cry gets stuck in her mouth and vibrates between the both of you.

Your fingertips hook into the curve of her waist, until your nails are sinking into the flesh, pinching gently, and watching her expression twist, you grip her hips with all the bruising-strength in your hands, yank her back onto your cock. Her spine goes rigid as a line of curses fall like rain from her mouth. A shuddering gasp - you have to steady her against you, where her knees lock tight around your waist as though she's worried you're leaving, like she's scared you won't stay-

"Baby," you grit out, like you'd beg too, "Oh- fuck, my baby, you're - you're all mine, okay."

You bury yourself balls-deep - and there's no pretense, it's just you and her, the pace making Tzuyu's little repeating "ah" go choppy with your thrusting, her eyes clamping shut, her limbs locking around you.

"Too deep," she groans. "Jesus, it's-"

"Uh uh," you mutter against the bend of her chin, and press in, still, maybe just to spite her. "Fight me. If it's too deep."

There’s tears in her lashes, she’s sobbing; you’re fucking her so properly you think she wants to kill you. It might even be written into that glossy expression: death, your demise. But her pretty eyes glint with mischief and her lips split into a grin.

"Try me," and this laugh, coming up from your chest - low, amused. "Go ahead. Put my neck in your hand, if you want-"

There's only ever a couple of moves. Like in chess, the combinations repeat, patterns emerge. Tzuyu pulls into your kiss; her wrist pinned to the wall behind her with one of your hands, the other knocking her thighs apart. Her ankles hook into your hips, just as you knew they would. There are so few options for a person; the only solution's the natural one - the urge to match each other's needs; to lose yourself in the easy push and the easy pull.

It doesn't take long before she opens up beneath you: until there's nothing between the hard pound of your hips and her tender, creaming cunt. Then there's that final gasp, this violent pulse as she takes her hands back from you to cup around your ears and press her lips to the line of your cheekbones and nose and mouth, with her tear-slick skin and saliva and, god - she's a whimperer, you now know, but Tzuyu holds her body still enough to not sway. The picture-perfect example of a good little girl -

That's how you push your mouth to hers: the steady-languid thrust of your cock between the hot clamp of her legs. "Oh, god, you’re gonna make me cum again, christ," her cries go, all muffled, right into your lips. She’s a little lost. Fucked-out. Blissful.

It's not right, though; just pinning the girl against a wall - no, she deserves better. You don't let her fall as you drag her into the bedroom. Not until a tumble into the sheets. She doesn’t try to control the fall, you land on top of her, and Tzuyu laughs a little, but it dies into the hard breaths you can feel bouncing back against your mouth. Her soft thighs pressed beneath your weight, quivering still.

"Fuck your cum into me," She huffs out, softly, more air than noise. You’re practically crushing her. And then the tilt of her head, almost inviting, like a question. "Please. I want it."

In hindsight, the real memory of this moment will be a soft and lovely thing - fabricated mostly: her tiny frame shaking, trembling in its effort to take you in, her voice giving out around a cry as she cums again - there's something sacred there, surely, a holiness that isn't altogether safe, considering what this girl is.

You’ll try not to remember how you fucked her and buried your face between her tits, though she did look up at you through her tears and made it sound sweet, said your name just so, or even the fact that she watched her whole body get filled and only smiled with contentment. That part won’t survive - nor the fact you’ll hold the girl down later and cum inside her three times. Until she’s leaking. Details to be confined to Mina’s cabin-secrecy - or at least, to whatever depth of oblivion, past your will to suppress it, her mind reaches when you bury your hand in her hair and pull her head back to really make sure you've hit every corner of her and left your cum there, marking her insides, turning her warm.

And look, Tzuyu doesn't balk. Instead she lets you pull her in close, her nails raking into the nape of your neck, the muscles under your skin. She drags scratches down your back as you sink into her cunt, hot, willing - she’s so fucking wet you’re bottoming out in each sloppy thrust.

"Tzu," you can't stop yourself from muttering, almost reverent. You were right, on all accounts. The girl is a problem.

One that is currently collapsing under you. You push her knees up to her elbows, and all her weight melts under your hands, limp and helpless.

"Fuck, your pussy is unbelievable.” You shouldn’t be fucking her this hard, but, well, you are - “Tzuyu, baby,” and when your hand comes up to her jaw, she palms it. Takes your thumb into her mouth and sucks. Fuck, it’s all slipping, consuming, you need to cum in her, need to bury your cock deep in her cunt and cum right into that wet sopping mess. Fill her up where she’s molten hot and her walls are gripping you so hard they’re practically begging-

"Yeah," she repeats around the digit, flitting her tongue against your fingertip. “Yeah. Cum for me.”

That's how she likes it. She'll scream, if you let her. If you give her the deepest fill. She’ll apologize and she won’t know for what. You already know how her expression will shift as soon as it hits. Head falling back. Her hands fisting in your hair, the bedding - her knees nearly get drawn up, and you push them apart by your fingertips. She whimpers, and whimpers, and you can't stop from fucking the pretty noises right out of her lungs until she's dripping - soaking you, all over the sheets. You want her to feel it when you leave. Your presence. It’s only fair - she should remember some part of you, in exchange for what she’s traded and stolen away - ideally forever.

You thumb at the tear tracks and lift her by a fistful of that pretty dark hair. And for her, you can be kind, you let your lips graze hers. As tenderly as you can manage, which isn't much, but then the angle settles lower, your cock hits deeper, all the right spots - and god, Tzuyu is so easy to fuck. She slips a little, and you’re catching her, pushing deeper, harder - she’s easy to pound too, to hold down and smother and grind deep, to have under you, all boneless, insensible-

"So pretty for me, Tzu," you growl into the shell of her ear, because you can, and another stroke, another velvety drag has you cumming in her hot, little cunt.

Each throb brings more, pumping her full of your cum, and she likes it. Keeps muttering baby, baby please in your ear, and fuck, you almost slip a hand down and make her fall apart too - but - her fingers wrap around your wrist before they get there, so tight.

"Can feel it. So deep," she whispers, when your eyelids screw shut and the mess floods out of her - gets fucked right back in: your hot cum and her thick slick, the creamy mess leaking from her cunt. You pull your cock out halfway, and she does sob - that sounds just like you'd imagine, too. "Please. Oh, my god- sir. That's it. That's it, let it out, sir. Sir, all your cum feels so good in me - please. Please- just give it to me, sir, yes-"

She’s not even taunting or mocking on that ‘sir,’ you think, not the way she sounds now, the halfway-slur. It's all torn up and tired. It makes you press closer, making the head of your cock swell between the thin walls of her pussy. It hurts - the squeeze. And then the soft, pleading sound she makes.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," you groan, a last attempt at a condescending tone. But she's so raw, so broken down by now that nothing is quite right.

"Fuck," she mutters against your mouth, "fuck, thank you," and your palm drags down the length of her sternum, following the angle of her jaw, slipping your palm onto her tits, thumbing at the indent. It's soft, pliant skin, and you pinch: not anywhere sharp or cruel, not especially sensitive, just in a line below the ridge of her rib cage, and it's too pretty a picture not to smile at her, when her entire chest jolts at the contact, the intake of breath. "Sir. Fuck."

"I'm still fucking you later," you assure her, as if her breathing could've convinced you otherwise. "But I wanna hear your voice some more. Hum a little. Give me a yes, sweetheart. Can you do that?"

The noise is barely audible, almost nonexistent, except it is: she hums her assent as you dip two fingertips back into her swollen, well-fucked cunt, scooping out some of the mess. Your fingers hook into her cheek and her mouth opens, because she's so obedient, because that's why it has to be like this.

You rub her bottom lip. Her eyes open into yours; a wet mouth. It's impossible not to see what's right there. It's easy, really, to press through and in, and give her that taste, that warm, velvety brush, like she's been sucking your cock, and maybe - oh, yeah, you'll remind her about it tomorrow, how she's a needy little slut for it, can't get enough - how you could've fucked her face until she was drooling and out-of-her mind - but the way her eyelashes flutter against your touch; the look-

You’ll take your time. You know what she wants: more than anything. It's the thing you can read. Maybe the hot, sticky mess, the flush in her cheeks. A touch to her face. Your thumb in her mouth, too, stretching, prying, holding. More cum falling beneath her tongue, dripping in those gaping, half-open red lips.

She’s licking your load from your knuckles, your Tzuyu. You can’t believe it.

"Swallow," you tell her.

"Mmm," and it’s there: this gorgeous expression on her features, her eyelids dropping, the shimmer, the shine. You'd do anything to keep it there.

You let your thumb leave the corner of her mouth and it stays open, just the tip of her tongue darting out to taste what little she can. The rest of her lulls back with a satisfied murmur, eyes half-closed, clearly the type of content-afterglow of wanting the man who'd just ruined her. A gratitude, or a simple, silly thing, if he would just pick her up in his arms: "thank you, sir."

Her panties end up back around her hips, and a new shirt's thrown haphazardly on, a soft, gray cotton which rides down, slipping past one pale shoulder. And then she turns over, to the side, her back curling into the heat of your chest. There's no attempt at leaving or any plans either. The arm you've loosely wrapped around her waist simply tugs. It's not subtle or even nice: your hand rucks up the fabric and snaps the waistband, and the soft cotton doesn't stop it from being painful.

"Fuck me again." Tzuyu shakes off with a shrug. She's wiggling her ass, practically. She's not wrong, you suppose - your cock hardens easily, more of a reaction. "Are you just going to - keep teasing?"

“Such a brat,” you say, and that makes her whole body tense; she makes the most beautiful sounds for you, but words, praise, humiliation - those always hit harder. You know your girl.

"Your brat," says Tzuyu, easily. "You can do whatever you want." 

Your grip on her hip is brutal. Of course you know. That doesn't mean you can't look for loopholes, anyway, right? You don't move, but the threat's there.

The look she shoots over her shoulder is smug. "I like it rough, or something. Doesn't it make you mad that someone could've had me before?"

"Should I be?" You're swiping your cockhead through her folds before you have a chance to say, "Should I care that some guy's had my little cocksleeve before? Should I be angry that someone used my pretty toy before I got to?" You thumb at the tightness, and Tzuyu gives up the front immediately and jerks her hips backward. "If I wasn't the first?"

"Not exactly," comes Tzuyu's mild answer, "not if I was always thinking of you. Plus, they didn't make me feel like that." She tips her head up, to nip at your jaw. She's smiling so fucking coy when she adds: "please, don't hurt me too bad."

You wrap your hands around her. Press a kiss into her shoulder.

“Or do, maybe. Whatever feels natural, you know," she bites down.

"The hickeys are going to be difficult," you agree. "People are gonna see them and they'll picture themselves, probably, with you spread out, huffing, gasping - fucking you out of a brain."

"As they should," she says, and then hums this low, heartfelt note into the mattress. "So how hard can you do this, hm?" She's moaning into the pillow as you slip back into her cunt, but it's a challenge, the tilt in her voice. "Like, if I ask, real nicely."

Who’d have ever guessed she was so filthy. All hidden behind the pristine, the perfection. The prim girls are always the worst: all that beauty means more to them wrecked than revered - it means they've won, again.

Well, that works just fine. She's won you over.

You lean into her shoulder, murmuring, “you’re pushing your luck here, Tzu.”

“Am I?” Her head tilts back until it finds the curve of your jaw. Those deep brown eyes flashing. She knows what’s coming, her pussy tightening prettily. "I'm sorry, sir. I’ll clean up my act."

And the little smile. The fucking dimple, proudly stitched into her cheek - right as you pull her back onto you again, your length working its way slowly into her cunt. The way her ass fits in your hips lets you know you're no match for this girl: how unbelievably good it feels to be inside her. Hot, tight, wanting. Pressed tight between her gorgeous thighs.

“Guess I never noticed,” she says, before falling quiet with the soft punch of breath as you drag her backwards, against your body and the rocking press of your hips. Her eyelashes tremble while your cock nudges its way fully inside her pussy. The rest, as it seems, is silent: only the crash of skin, the sound of your breathing.

You’re already gathering her hair into your fist when you tug her back to your waist, mouth hovering right at the shell of her ear: "fuck, you take my dick like you're made for it. Do you even know how good your pussy feels? I'll ruin you if you let me. We can find out together," you tell her, pulling her back onto your cock. A wordless, pained, perfect whimper.

Tzuyu lets herself go slack against your chest.

She's taking you like a dream and that's it, that's enough, all you've got to say, and Tzuyu, jesus-fucking-christ, she does it with a laugh: this awful, melodic, bright, sweet, airy fucking thing: "don't fucking test me, Tzuyu -" you repeat, a warning.

Tzuyu bats those long lashes, like it'll mean anything, like this isn't all the proof you need. 

"Okay. Don't tease, then.” Her hand reaches up to the nape of your neck, finds your body close and hot. She sighs. “I want to feel it, sir. So much that I can't walk after. That I'll still have you in me. I want it all to hurt. Is that too much?"

All she does is try to hide her smiles, and she's terrible at it. There's a gasp buried underneath her giggling, one that Tzuyu loses every time she moves her body with yours. There are only two conclusions now: either she's that perfect of a fuck or she's as full of shit as you are. Either way, the dimple's giving her away - her smile, her lips, the full, syrupy brown of her gaze.

Tzuyu wraps that leg up and back around you and the angle is devastating.

"Baby, I want you- I want your cock deeper - yes, baby. Deeper - as deep as it'll go. I want you to fuck me until I can’t think, until there's nothing I can do. Seriously. Fuck me." 

Her hand dives over the shirt; there's no question when your gaze follows the trail she takes over her tensing body, over the curve of her breasts and down to where she's dragging at her pussy, where she's exposed herself. She finds the space and lets the fingertips flutter down, onto her needy, swollen clit; the place where your bodies join and separate; the throbbing pulse of her pussy.

"And then fuck me some more,” she adds, like that'll help. Her pussy fits you like a glove - it’s not fair. It’s not right.

But she's so beautiful up close, eyes fluttering in pure, concentrated rapture as she loses the tension in her face - one more thing that the facets, angles, and shades of Tzuyu become, something you tuck away in a vault somewhere safe; a secret just between the two of you.

Her hand runs up your thigh, fastens back on your hip. “You owe it to me, to use my body a little bit, don’t you think?”

There's no sense fighting it, not anymore - maybe there never was - and when you grip Tzuyu's upper thigh, tilt her leg upwards, she gives you an anticipatory hum. This light sound. An ankle lands over your hip, and what follows is a tight, enveloping slide, your cock buried in her wet pussy. So close together that she can't move much at all except to take it - the hard thrust, the one that forces its way up to the hilt. She's impossibly, overwhelmingly soft, a pleasure unlike any other. The absolute worst kind.

She knows exactly the danger of getting involved with you, and when she cums, once, again, and once more - her eyes water, her voice flooded - you think, so do you.

-

It’s in the hours of the morning that’re not quite today, nor quite tomorrow when Tzuyu leans on the end of the bed as she stretches. A loose t-shirt is draped over her petite body - you glance over at her as the bottom of the fabric lifts, exposing more skin across her legs. No matter the circumstances, the space she inhabits will always feel charged. She could wear a potato sack and have the same effect, you suppose, because that's just how she is: Tzuyu is magnetizing.

"That is definitely not yours," you say, finally.

The girl has a lovely arch to her back, a golden glow of perfection that you can't find elsewhere. That's when Tzuyu laughs and spins around. "Is that a question?"

You only have yourself to blame. Of course it's not hers. The shirt's oversized and could fit all five feet, eight inches of her like a tent. It doesn't belong to her, but her heart-shaped lips make you feel stupid, so you're giving her a second chance. You really need that shirt back. You packed light, it's your favorite tee, it’s a family heirloom, or something - whatever makes her get it off, you guess. You sit up against the bed, and watch her fingers hook into the hem as it slowly peels off from her frame.

And that is - a vision.

You already knew - but it's worth repeating, or forgetting your name and every last bit of your existence for; the sharp collarbone, the striking red lines beneath them, the palest, sweetest chest. Her breasts, a bit smaller, a bit rounder than normal (not that you would know), sit heavy in her hands, soft and full - oh, the hickeys, the perfect peaks and the bruised nipples - she's an aphrodisiac.

"I want one later," she tells you, and runs a hand over her breast, pressing against the angry red marks that color the pale skin.

"A shirt?"

She turns back toward the mirror, an image reflected tenfold - a beautiful flush on her high cheekbones. It's only a small win to think that those rosy cheeks are there because of you. Only a little one, if at all. "One of yours, sure."

You laugh, but she looks taken aback. "What, you mean like a keepsake?"

"Hey, if it smells good." Tzuyu brings up the neckline to her nose, eyes fluttering shut for a brief second before they snap closed. "Yes. Like a keepsake, is that so unnatural?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are, like, really forward." You thought you knew, but there's this part of you that wonders. Why the sudden revelation. "Not that it isn't obvious. I meant...with the rest. Just to clarify."

"With sex, you mean?" Her smile turns a little sheepish. "I can tone it down a little. I don't even notice sometimes, I just talk."

You walk forward and wrap your arms around her waist. You fit easily around her. "Don't," you say, quietly, against the back of her neck. "It's nice, in a way."

She cranes her head to trade the reflection of your eyes for the real thing. Her body is soft, warm. "You like to talk too."

"Right."

"Your favorite past-time."

"Point taken." Your thumb runs down the middle of her breast and traces her nipple. It's tender, you note. You can’t really keep your hands off her waist, or stop touching her tits - because who would ever let something so delightful pass them by? Not you. No way. "Want to hear a story?"

"If it's coming from you," she whispers, a little smile, a lot of entendre, "I’ll listen to anything."

"Do you see the wall over there?" You nod to the window. She follows it with her gaze, her chin jutting towards your shoulder, her long neck arching. It's hard not to kiss it. There's a clear stretch of drywall beside her desk. She nods. "When I came here with Sana and Mina last," and your nose presses into her hair, inhaling her, the way she smells like something tropical: vanilla and citrus. Something far from here. "I put up a few paintings. I'm handy sometimes, a hammer seeking a nail sorta thing."

Tzuyu almost snorts, and sways a bit in your grasp. You tighten your hold, not wanting to drop her. "Oh?” she teases out, suggestive. “Show me."

-

(You shouldn’t. You can’t stop, frankly. Fucking Tzuyu is in its own category: the luxury, the treasure, the extravagance; feeling between your fingers the finest silk, the richest cashmere.

Her palms slide higher up the wall, fingers splayed. The curve of her back, the pull of her hair. Tzuyu kissing you like the world will end and the moon will be the first to know, her fists curling into your back, a furious, frantic urgency - Tzuyu fucking you. Well. Tzuyu always, always kissing you; it's the universe resetting, it's a timeline rewritten, it's trading everything sweet for salt, giving you teeth and tongue, the insides of her lip rubbed raw - she tastes like 80 Proof, a sticky, melting liquor, and it goes down too easy. "Why are you making this hard for me." It's not a question, her face in your neck - then she says, like there's a hundred other things, a hundred thousand ways you can ask:

"What makes you think I want to make this easy?")

-

The power goes out early in the morning.

Which means you're in the dark. But, it's alright. You consider for a moment the omen-like timing, if such an idea is ludicrous in the first place. This could be a metaphor. After all, what is Tzuyu if not a classic trope? It isn't fair to judge anyone based off their flaws. For starters, you have more than you can count. You consider a moment longer, that the timing isn't metaphor-worthy. After all, if this was a punitive force, you're certain that it would've been more apparent, more explicit, if the electric panel had burst into flames or the cable box was shot-out; something bigger, flashier, less like something that you'd play up for theatrics. And it probably would've been when you had the girl on all on fours, your handprints seared into the round of her ass-

Or, when she got on her knees. The snap of darkness setting in as you slipped your cock out of her lips and spilled a rope of hot cum on her face, in her hair. The way she just relaxed into it, a reverence to her being baptized, kneeling. “Oh, Tzu,” you said, with a fist around a cock, and jerked the rest right out on her tongue. You probably would have heard her sniffle after, still recovering from her choking a bit.

Or, when you had half a mind to kneel down between her legs in the shower, suck her clit until she was dripping, fucking her open with your tongue; you could taste her sweat, her slick, and imagine how hard it must be to put up that front: biting into a washcloth, trying not to fall apart.

(Karma arrives late, or it doesn't arrive at all. Or, something. Who knows. It doesn't matter. The outcome would have remained the same.)

Tzuyu opens the sliding glass door to the balcony.

You watch her from behind - there's a small pile of snow at the edge. The whole mountain has gone into complete darkness. No moon, no lights, no light poles, or blinking bulbs or strobe signs or house lights - just night. How eerily romantic, that. And if there was an excess amount of snow before, it only got heavier, thicker, now weighing on the steel bars of the railing.

Tzuyu rests her hands there, leaning her hips a bit forward, so far that her knees lock. Her back bends. "It's so weird," she breathes out, and you can see your exhales, both of yours. "I feel like you and I are the only ones here right now. Everyone else is probably taking shelter. Maybe the power went out for everybody."

"Maybe."

"It's all a bit spooky. Or creepy. But, exciting too, yeah?" She turns, just enough. Her fingertips run along the side of her face. "In the mountains, yes." She doesn't even need to say the rest, doesn't need to ask: does that appeal to you? All this isolation? I could scream and scream and nobody would ever hear it. I'm yours to fuck, to have, to own, to do anything to-

"It'll probably be fixed in the morning," you tell her. "Who would turn it back on tonight. To this place. They'll start at the closest areas to town and go out from there."

"Mina has a generator," Tzuyu supplies helpfully. "No living clue where."

"Want to look for it?"

She lets her head tilt, as if to follow the expanse of trees leading up into the rocky ground. "Would it kill us to wait for tomorrow?" Her bare toes curl into the floorboards. The blanket stays wrapped tightly around her shoulders, and a single line of her wrist can be seen when she tilts her arm a certain way. "We won't die or anything."

You wouldn't die, not before being smitten with a different death, falling headfirst and in love; and that's what you've felt since the start, since the beginning: you've always wanted more. It was always inevitable, her letting her weight fall backwards, in the living room - all your filthy secrets falling out. It felt like the sky had dropped. All over the bedroom floor.

"Then let's get some sleep," you say, but still step closer, as you do with anyone, to brush aside the strand of hair over her ear.

-

It feels like the temperature must have dropped dramatically. Not that it bothers either of you very much, you note, when you move under the blankets together. Some might feel embarrassed by the necessity, but then, most aren't half the people that you both are.

Tzuyu presses her fingers under her thigh to keep her legs shut. To avoid the cold, she claims, but you can hear the slippery noises that her cunt makes as her body shakes with each thrust of her fingers. You almost suggest that you heat her up in an entirely different fashion, but the smile, her smile, gets the best of you. Instead, you let yourself touch and trace, and feel her wherever it may land. There's no sense in pretending either, so you tangle yourself into her: a finger between her legs. Another in her palm, resting against her hip. When you press your thumb against her cunt, she begins to smile, too, as if to show you exactly what kind of person she is. That is to say, completely insatiable.

You let your free hand slip under her chin. Tilting her head up, exposing the faint pulse-points. You wonder if she's imagining the things you'd do if the snow never cleared: toying with her hair, petting the top of her head, speaking pretty and dirty and pressing kisses against her bare back, in a rhythm, as you fuck her without care - something close and tight like the little noises she makes and how they die off, finally, when you push your cock deeper, still.

There are no words between you anymore, maybe - but she's not laughing, and you're not angry, and it's only one second before your mouth is on her neck, kissing the column of her throat. It's easy to sleep with her - so, so simple, if not anything else.

"I don't have anything in the morning," you murmur to the top of her shoulder, barely moving as not to break the moment. To tell her it's fine to leave her body or keep it forever. Either way. Both, if it's an option.

She smiles. Her eyes are still closed. "It'd be weird if you did."

She can be a tease - a complete brat - sometimes. Like now. But then again, who would you be if not the person who falls for exactly that.

And that is a weakness: you have a very specific kind of hunger, that won't fade, that can only be sated. She knows it, and yet her coy grin remains. It's a habit, not a mistake. "Yeah, well," you lean up onto your forearm, pressing the knuckles of your right hand against her soft cheek. "This is the most inconvenient of all places, but- don't worry about it."

"Meaning?"

"I don't think they sell birth control or morning after pills or anything up here," you explain, lightly. Your gaze passes from her eyes to the pink of her bottom lip and back, again.

"Do I look like I'd care?" Tzuyu sighs and takes your wrist, pulling your arm over her body. "I know what I'm doing," she adds, which might actually be a lie. "Obviously. You don’t need to pretend you’re like, responsible, or whatever."

Yes, obviously. As if it was all as easy as pulling strings, deciding exactly which points to tease, to stress. You should know. You just kissed and held down and fucked and fucked your cum into this one: you know how to move her strings better than any.

-

You flip the switch in the kitchen. Up, down, up, down: except, nothing. The electricity is still decidedly off by mid-morning, and you and Tzuyu end up having actual, quality, conversation. 

You sit her on the kitchen counter - though it’s not fated to last long, because her legs loop around your waist, and she tugs your sweats down as you try to fix the two of you lunch - Tzuyu gets what Tzuyu wants, of course - so you're standing there fucking her while her head leans back on the cool marble, her silky dark hair tumbling off the end of the counter.

She ends up propped up on one elbow. Eyes hazy and half-lidded, fixed on the glide of you into her creamy folds, spreading her wider, wider.

Tzuyu asks questions - all innocuous, at least to the ear. About your past. Who you were before all this. Whether you want kids, when, whether you were religious, once. She gets personal before you have her cumming and incoherent: how you sleep, in what positions. How often you jerk yourself off. What you're thinking of when you do. How you'd use her - not the lewd version, the spitting, filthy iteration, just the you and her and her being yours part. And she gets specific about that. She'll slide up to you and bury her nose in your throat, wrap her arms around your shoulders, mumble about wanting you closer - you feel her, maybe more than you should - but every few seconds you're sliding home into that pussy and her chest heaves out a deep breath-

"I want what's in here," she finally says, her delicate palm cupping your balls. She's pulling you into her on each stroke like the fucking sun's gone out and this is her last chance - she's magnetism, gravity, a blackhole you'd give up the rest of the universe to. She's got one fist on your shirt, and the other hand on your sack, and her pussy's fluttering around you, and she's watching you watching her, and it's infinity:

"The idea of you." Tzuyu smiles at the way your eyes narrow, the way the word turns itself over and over on your mind, her. She tilts her face to look at your expression. "Like, in here. All your cum. There's so much. Can I please have it-"

You swear.

"Pretty please, baby," Tzuyu's asking if you'll fill her up, if you'll make her your cumdump, keep fucking her even with all your cum inside her, asking what the worst of your fantasies are - you fuck harder, deeper, and she nods eagerly, tightens that fist in your shirt. "Can you give it to me? Please, it's the only thing I need, and we both know I always need something, please."

"Jesus fucking christ," you tell her, helpless, and it's never felt better: her cockwarming on your lap, her teasing and teasing until your self-control's paper thin - won't you? won't you? fucking breed this slutty little cunt? won't you cum until I'm so full it's spilling out-

The snap. Like falling, it’s something you notice right away, but only ever understand a long ways down. 

"Yours," moans Tzuyu, half in an accusatory fashion - fuck - she's almost gasping: "fuck - just use me, use your cumdump, 'cause you'll never have a tighter cunt than this."

God. Damn. Her. You cum so hard it aches, and there's no hesitation:

"My cocksleeve, my good girl, shit-"

"You could leave a baby in me, even, just like that. Couldn't you. Isn't that hot. And nobody could do a fucking thing." Tzuyu’s tits are spilling out the sides of her camisole and she looks like pure porn, in person. Your cum is dripping out of her and you watch as it spills on the marble.

"Is that what my girl wants? 

She smiles, again, so prettily.

“You wanna be full of cum, is that it?" You grab Tzuyu's hair; pull just enough to get the point across. "Is that it? You're a perfect cumslut who needs all that fucking cum, huh? Wants it pumped deep? You like being full of it, right Tzu? This needy little cunt loves the thought of getting bred? Knocked up? Goddamn, Tzu."

"That's me," agrees Tzuyu, in the afterglow. Dimple dug deep. "Yeah. Your personal cumslut, sir."

She just grins when you reach between her thighs, pressing your fingers into the cum you've fucked into her, before you decide that the wet warmth is yours and you’re going to fuck her even further into delirium.

Her hips come up off the granite, desperately.

"Uh-huh," she mumbles, already drifting - you put her off her balance, for real. "God, yes, please," she's whispers, as if all the ways you'd ruin her were prayers, like she wants to start a new religion all her own: you're a god, and it's all about Tzuyu - just you, and her, asking, again, the questions piling on top of other ones, the sweet drawl, the sinful want, the curiosity-

Fuck. She wants everything about you, your dirty secrets and your nice manners - the stories behind your scars, your funny little quirk of raising just one eyebrow at a time-

You turn her around. She's made for this, intelligently designed: her tiptoes just touching the floor, the delicious curve of her lower back, your cock sliding effortlessly into her and hitting a spot she arches into like it's divine intervention and that pussy making its first church of your name. The cum you'd already left in her cunt is making everything wetter, making those obscene sounds echo in the space around the two of you. It's rapturous; you let her feel it slow, and deep, and it’s bliss.

“Tighter,” you growl into her ear, and her cunt clenches like you own it.

The girl's figure is pristine, an ass that belongs under spotlights, on camera; those thick lips, the curtain of her hair when she tips her chin down. It's all been in magazines, billboards, it's been idolized - she is the icon and you're the follower, but, this weekend, here and now-

"So. Fucking. Good-" she gasping, falling apart. She’s collapsing and it’s not even noon.

"Oh, the world knows." You pull her up, hold her body in yours and snap into her cunt. Her skin's hot, feverish, the light that filters through the blinds and the snow slows outside.

It all happens without a moment’s notice - Tzuyu reaches behind and clutches your thigh, as if she could ever pull you deeper, like it wouldn't tear her in half. But you find yourself in a position to grab the edge of the counter; your phone buzzes. It's Sana, probably asking what's up. You want to ignore it and keep fucking Tzuyu from behind. You want to hold her hips, be mindful of the marks, the bruises, sink your fingers into her hair, her tits - you end up murmuring things like please and fucking perfect and if we were a little more religious then you'd be a sin to remember-

Fuck, you're cumming again. The writing’s on the wall as soon as your cock makes her breath draw short and her eyelids snap shut. She’s exquisite, a masterwork - you’re painting in broad strokes, all over the beautiful curves of her ass - not only because you’ve needed to see it cast in hot streaks of white, all debased with your cum, but simply to prove a point; to say that you can. You cum on her cheeks, her cunt, you pump your fist around your shaft and cum in the crotch of her panties too.

"That's it, Tzu," you croon, "look at that," your spent cock twitching against her plush thighs, her dripping pussy lips, and she's sagged forward, onto the counter, your thumb running through a particularly thick rivulet. Her face dips down, pressed to the cold surface, and the words coming out aren't coherent, are just filthy and true; but they're there: she's taken you and kept you, all for herself.

(Thank you, she says, for making me into your little cockwarmer, your toy, for breaking my fucking cunt, baby - thank you, please, thank you-

You could end your career tomorrow, it wouldn't matter. Just saying, man. This girl, fuck.)

There’s a beat, the strained breathing, the panting, the disbelief. She ends up kissing your chin after sliding back to her feet, a saccharine imitation of chaste. Pulls up her shorts without a second's consideration. Her panties, still sticky with your spend - well. She puts those back, too, grinning dreamily. 

Oh, how is a woman like Tzuyu even real, huh? You really do need to find out, somehow.

"Your imagination is…" you say, your tone flat. “I swear.” But you don't deny that the sex isn't. You don't think of her that way. She doesn't ask you for your hopes or your dreams or the full gambit of life, as some people might. She asks about what you think about at three am when she's got one hand on her tits and one on her clit and one finger in her mouth:

"Anything we can think of," she corrects, her long limbs squeezing her tighter to your front. Her grin bright, so perfect she's beyond believable, and how can such a dissonance exist in something, someone, you're holding on to? "I mean, we can if you want."

-

"Maybe we'll talk about that - how you can handle me," is what Tzuyu rasps, softly, tying her hair up afterwards: and you realize this is her post-coital. For her, sex makes her nice. Sweet.

You've already fixed her lunch; Tzuyu comes to sit down at the table with you. "Like, for future reference." You're raising an eyebrow. She grins at that, kicks her feet. Her hips don't do the same, though - no doubt still a little sore, like her lips. She's worn out, finally. She won't try to slice off and claim any more of your aching soul.

“You have no business thinking about babies.”

“Tell that to my ovaries.”

"You have a breeding kink, is what it is, really. I’m being completely serious."

"Well, am I pregnant yet?" Tzuyu flutters those lashes, puts those big pretty eyes on full display. "No? Then I'm getting off on something else, clearly, isn't it obvious, like maybe there's something about being on the other end of someone so big. Have you considered how wet you make me when you-"

"Tzuyu, cut it out," you chide her. The little brat's giggling. You aren’t going to let her know how pretty the noise is.

"Fine." She reaches across the table, puts her small hand on your larger one. "Like I said - how to handle me." Her tone is placating, the sharp edge to her personality blunted. It's different with Tzuyu - after sex, she gets like this: playful, easy, fond. The mess you've just made, the cunt you've stuffed full, that's another Tzuyu altogether. "For your... benefit."

"My benefit, really?"

"Aside from getting my brains fucked out," she explains, "is what I meant."

"Not making this easier, babe."

Her mouth curves a slow smile. She likes when you call her names, cute shit like that.

"I need to call Sana back," you explain, finally.

Tzuyu nods.

"In a bit," you add. "Also," you're saying, leaning forward. Her head tilts toward yours.

She's receptive, her whole body pliant and lazy, after that, well, marathon - she'll roll with whatever you're suggesting. This has always been a dream to her, she's mentioned. (Who has dreams like that? Someone so young, that innocent - well, yeah.)

But you kiss her temple, lightly. "Gimme a minute."

Tzuyu blinks, in that catlike way she has of staring, intent. Her mouth slightly pouty.

"Then you get your turn," you offer.

"Deal," she nods.

And that makes her beam - your beautiful, very good, very perfect, little toy.

-

"You're going to have to slow down," you tell Sana over the phone. "I have zero reception up here, sorry."

"The highway is shut down, I literally can't get to the other side of town," she yells over the sound of tires rolling on snow. Sana does not sound in the best spirits. If anything, she sounds slightly desperate. "Part of the mountain collapsed on a cliff somewhere. Fuck's sake. The weather is still terrible and they're shutting everything down. Literally shuttering every road off the base of the mountain."

"You sound good," you deadpan, and when Sana grumbles, say, "try the next exit, head around and take a back road-"

"Yeah, except it's snowing like nobody's fucking business right now - I'm not going to risk exposure to try to get there on my own."

"What should I do?" you try, a bit helpless. "Stay here?"

"Why are you even asking," Sana scoffs, "yes, stay there, stupid. Tell Tzuyu you can't drive in snow, that she can't possibly expect me to deal with any of you leaving a safe situation." There's another brief pause. "Ah, seriously, there is not a single living human being near here that can be helpful - and they're supposed to bring us new tires? Here? No, fuck's sake."

"Oh," is all you say.

"Don't worry about me." Sana's voice goes up a notch. "Just be there, alright? Stay warm, okay?" A crackle, more radio waves or distance.

"Text me," you urge. "Tell me you're getting in safe."

"Of course, of course," and that's when you get the click, the abrupt disconnection. You stare at the device in your hand and consider the possibilities, and the outcomes, and how to stay sane while alone with temptation incarnate for a couple nights.

Maybe this really is hell. Or it's a trial. There’s the storm, and there’s your angel, contextually out of place. You're incapable of controlling yourself, clearly.

You sigh, let your gaze slide. The lights are still out, and in their absence, Tzuyu has dragged every available blanket or bed sheet within her reach into the living space, spread a dozen pillows across the sofa and is now occupying one of the corners: there's a book, opened onto her lap, as her nails run circles down the blanket draped over her lower back.

"Tzu, what exactly did Mina mention to you about the generator," is the first thing you blurt, upon entry, and Tzuyu smiles, holding up the page against the fading daylight - which is currently hardly much. "Better question: how are you able to read in the dark?"

"Takes a lot to shake me off, honestly,” she says, which you already know to be true. “Also my eyes aren't old like yours, so."

"Wow."

"What?" Tzuyu grins, tilts her chin. "Do you want me to say that you're ageless? Thirty, flirty and thriving. So impressive, your youthful vigor, that sort of deal? How attracted I am to your experience," the insinuation, this sudden intimacy. She laughs. "Seriously. Let me read."

"Apparently we're going to be stranded for a few days."

"That's cute." She pauses. "Sucks for Sana."

"You don't know what sucks for Sana."

She peeks over the corner of the page, then, grinning, the teeth of a joke. "What's on the menu, then? Hm? So far, the best part was waking up beside you," and you almost grin, at how honest she manages to be without seeming conceited. How shameless Tzuyu has become in the ways of liking you, and maybe a bit of who she thinks you are. And why that's dangerous, really, and it makes the guilt burrow down beneath your ribs a bit: "my ass hurts," she's complaining now, which is only going to encourage the teasing-

"As it should," you comment, then watch her eyes sharpen, glint with mischief. "Oh," you realize, with a shrug, "do we get to cuddle again."

(Let's hope, for a moment, this isn't really karma. Because really, it'd just be an uncalled-for injustice: Chou Tzuyu delivered down on all fours, head tucked into your thighs as a fist grabs a handful of her hair, a slow push and pull - your cock sinking into the velvet warmth between her lips, again, again, and again until she's ruined and crying and still swallowing you whole - as she, not the universe, forces a massive dose of her own medicine down your throat. You see how that might not be quite fair.)

"But I'll have to leave again," you're protesting - no heat, no vitriol. "There's, like. Stuff I gotta grab."

"Then grab me," she sighs, pats her lap, "read over my shoulder. Make out with me. Just keep me warm. That'd be very helpful, and I would be so grateful."

Well, fuck. You're not one for inflating egos - at least not anybody else's - especially when, unchecked, that tends to do the exact opposite of keeping them grounded.

"Fine," you're muttering, and you clearly have a habit for capitulation wherever Tzuyu is concerned, the quirk in her lips, the quiet pride in her dimple, the cadence in her speech - which she's already smug about.

"Wonderful." She taps the back of her fingernail against a book page, waits, just a few more seconds, her grin spreading as you begin to fumble around. "Please," she says, flicks her gaze back down, a tease, "take all the time you need."

-

The thing about mountain air is it has a way of clearing your head, cooling down the frenetic thoughts of indecision and uncertainty and moral conflict.

Well, maybe that's a slight overreach, the mountains also have a way of getting you killed, but the intention was to look upon the white caps and ponder. It didn't work.

-

You eventually find the generator. You hear the clicks of metal and electrical wiring, the roar of the motor kicking on, a steady hum. Then, Tzuyu pokes her head out from behind the shed, her cheeks tinted a warm pink; her eyebrows rise up a beat.

"Yes?" you prompt.

"Is it working?"

"Does it look like it's working, miss?"

"Looks a-okay to me," and she presses the heel of her mitten into her teeth, tries to bite it back down her wrist; she stumbles, a moment, slightly clumsy in the snow. You instinctively reach out. Your hands brush the outer seam of her pajamas, the heavy fabric of her coat - "oh," you can feel the instant the shivers start, "fuck, I'm cold.”

“We’re both probably pretty due for a hot shower,” you say.

"Yeah, you came in my hair. Er, sorry, I meant, we both need a hot shower."

"It was really adorable when you were rutting back on my dick like some horny animal," you snort. "Admit it."

"No comment."

"So shy."

Her smile cracks open, and her breath is a white plume. "Fuck you."

"Sure, babe," you're agreeing, the tone almost saccharine. "If you insist."

She blinks back in mild surprise, the blatant answer - and god, her fucking eyes: soft, dark, her eyelids barely lift up. Even when they should've narrowed. That was another thing to learn. (Maybe, god - who knows, maybe she's still learning how not to care.)

She runs a hand through her hair. The scarf around her neck is fluffing up. There's white clumps settling on the fibers, slowly dissolving into a damp mess.

"Listen," Tzuyu murmurs, wraps an arm around yours to help herself up. 

Your palm settles on the round of her thigh. She shifts, her hand dropping lower - tugs at your arm until she has an elbow in hers. The backs of her knuckles settle against your hip bone, her fingertips sliding across the waistband: you walk backwards through your snowprints, gently - the side door to the cabin is unlocked - Tzuyu's stumbling toward it.

"Going to the shower, we're turning the water on," she explains. You grin, feel your own arm, a slow drag around her lower waist; she tilts into it, steps closer. Presses a finger to your chest: "dinner's gonna be in half an hour," she announces, "and before you ask, I've been craving those boxes of instant mac & cheese in Mina's pantry."

"I haven't had one of those in ages."

"Me neither," and with her heel, she kicks the side door shut; Tzuyu yanks on a cord, pulls the blinds closed. It's pitch black. You're chuckling low, turning around - one of Tzuyu's hands smacks over a nearby light switch, illuminating the room just a shade lighter than it was prior. She presses a hand to your chest, a single-minded goal to your front.

You put your hands on her hips.

"It's the kinda thing that makes me feel like a kid again," you hear her say, just slightly; that, and how the white fabric of her sweater twists, pulled to a single point.

"Happens," is the best explanation you can give. She slaps the lightswitch again. Kisses you. You shove a leg forward. She whines. "Be good," you're chiding, though you both stumble until her back is pressed against the wall. "You were just complaining that you're still sore."

"Maybe I can't help it, maybe that's all on you," the end of the sentence fades. Her nails slide up the sleeve of your arm. There's the soft hitch of a moan. "It's just you. So unfair." She rubs up. Swallows like it's instinct, at the slightest hint of friction. You curl your hand, your thumb grazes the waistband of her underwear; her fingertips tighten, her blunt nails sink deeper - press like she means something else, wants something more.

It'll be a few days, at least, more likely a week; and by then, this girl will have you right where she needs you. She's proven, time after time - you can never just say no.

-

The days bleed together after the snow.

You fuck her, but slower; sometimes softer, a little less raw, the hurt. Not that you'd ever try to take too much: the thought is unthinkable, un-imagined. Infinitely impossible. You'll pull out and empty everything you have, paint her skin, make her ache, fuck until you know exactly where the bruises are and how to touch them, how to breathe the hurt down from her ribs.

But some mornings: she rolls over onto her side, opens her eyes and smiles. Brilliant like the sun, something that would warm your heart even without trying. Some afternoons, you put the fire on; read something aloud from Mina's bookshelves, and watch the red-orange flames turn Tzuyu's cheeks and neck pink and honey. Evenings, especially the colder ones, you're wrapping her up, blankets, sweatshirts, pulling her close: into bed with the lights turned off. She wants the touch, she craves it, she'll almost whimper when you get near her - and it's you, whispering words against her ear; tracing fingertips lightly against her temple, down the nape of her neck, her lower lip-

"How come you don't kiss me, hm?" She sounds sleepy. "Baby. Don't pretend you're a stone. Like, an unfeeling brute."

"I have my limits, princess."

"Like not kissing someone you're fucking." Her face drops from your sight, and Tzuyu turns over: she curls into her comforter, and her legs nudge the back of yours. "That's so fucking cruel," her voice a little whiny. "But okay, okay - tell me the reasons. Just so we can keep going."

"Keep going, huh. Even though I'm mean."

"Well, yeah, I've done much, much worse," the worst, if you think about it; and it's almost true. Maybe her morality was on the rocks long before yours. "Obviously."

You drop a kiss into her hair. "We both know what that mouth of yours is capable of."

She grins into your skin. Presses her lips, like a sign, and stays.

-

A girl like her inspires the worst in a man, and that's just about it: you think a man would burn the world down for her, with her, and maybe that would be how all things end, someway, somehow - not because of him or her, the full spectrum of his intentions, all the intricacies and subtleties, and hers too. You're both complicated creatures, sure; both very capable and wanting. Of big feelings, deep attachments: the overflow of your good hearts, perhaps; or, rather: the deficits.

She appeals to your worst impulses, in the plainest terms.

"Jesus Christ," you hiss, hands firm on her lower back; your voice breaking; Tzuyu has shed the bedsheets and climbed into your lap, one leg bent at the knee, digging the other into your ribs - her shirt hitches up and over the curve of her spine and then pools at her neck.

"Tell me that's good," she murmurs, hips gyrating, rocking her pussy along your cock. "Like that - right?"

"Fuck- yes," your cock slides into her, your entire length, the rest of the world fogged out: even the fire is quiet. "God, tzu. Feels amazing."

Tzuyu rolls her body forward, rides you with ease, and puts one small hand against your mouth. Her shirt hitches up and over the curve of her spine and then pools at her neck.

"I want to make you cum," she says, all quiet determination and wily confidence, "only you." She rolls her hips in your lap and then finds it: the steady, rhythmic grind down, down. Her ass crashes into your balls; the first telltale sign of that wonderful orgasm to come. "Is it wrong to want this? Like, you and I? Fuck. It feels like your cock was made for me."

"Yeah,” you grit, “fucking you feels - like it's meant to be, huh?"

"Sir," she says with an unhealthy smirk. She’s loving this more than you are, and you can’t really blame her for it: there’s no other sound quite like the slick, wet noise that her pussy makes as her body drops to yours, your cock filling her completely. It's music to your ears.

You grab at her ass, her hip, and pull her closer. She smiles, tilts her face down to you.

"Me too, you know, me too," she murmurs, kissing you softly; when you cup her breasts her breath hitches. "God- fuck- just-"

When she does cum, it's with the faintest little groan; a small, intense quiver in her thighs. You kiss her to swallow down the sound; and feel yourself tip over, and when she fucks you through your orgasm - her smile is dark, wicked, totally satisfied.

-

And everything else follows, because you're weak: because she makes you want to say no, even while simultaneously being your very favorite yes. You warm your cock inside her with some slow, gentle rhythm, her nipples hard against your shirt, her cries as sweet and earnest as all the best promises; a slow grind down, her fingers scrabbling for the headboard, you lean and lick her breasts, roll her nipples on your tongue - she gasps, tenses, digs her nails hard into your nape.

You'll have her again in the morning, she's adamant.

Her hands find your back, her legs circle your hips. The taste of her sweat. The taste of her nipples; her chest flushed, hair disheveled, pupils blown.

"Not letting me go." She whispers. Her cheeks are a lovely pink. "Even after this?"

You kiss the corner of her mouth, inhaling, wondering what to say.

"Good," Tzuyu tells you, tilting her jaw: "that's really-" She catches her lips with her teeth. "That's so fucking good."

-

(Her pussy grips your cock like it's the home she's always missed, her lifeline, her safe harbor. And it's dizzying, it's heaven, hell; and, in the morning - when everything is sepia-warm and sleepy - you fuck her again.

A promise, a hope, a plea. It's what makes a girl fall for a guy, in theory.

It's what makes her heart beat. )

-

"My phone's charging," Tzuyu sniffs the next morning: you're brushing out her hair. The sheets are warm.

You continue combing.

"Sana told me she would be texting, or trying to call."

"Well, that's nice," is all you can manage.

"Babe-" she leans back a bit: turns her gaze to the ceiling, exhaling sharply, "what if she got caught in a whole different avalanche, or fell from the top of a mountain, or something-"

You let go, letting her rest her weight against your thigh. "Honestly? Would serve her right. A little cold, a little damp-"

"If you don't take that back-"

"Alright. Alright. I'll send an apology prayer when I get around to it."

"No you won't." She curls in further, and you stroke her neck, shoulder blade; down the ridges of her spine, across the width of her back.

Tzuyu shudders slightly under your touch.

"Haven't I earned enough good faith, or a clean conscience?"

"Sir, don't pretend."

"Let's pray for Sana, then," you mutter. "Wherever the fuck she is."

"With respect," Tzuyu pipes up, eager: "bitch ain't found."

"Jesus.” You laugh out loud. “At least your brain isn't fully turned to mush, yeah?"

"Give yourself some credit. I can hardly fucking walk. You really pounded the feeling in my legs away."

"Too bad."

"Sorry." And she noses at your collarbone, tugging the waistband of your boxers; "feel free," the drawl of an old, forgotten song, "to make me repent. Baby. Do your thing."

"Right, I forgot that I could convince you to do anything by sliding my dick in your throat. Yikes."

"Baby, just, uh- do whatever." Tzuyu grabs hold of your cock through the thin fabric: one light tap of a finger, "my lips are numb," the suggestion. You really could be her everything: and maybe if you said, stop, please, you won't. She'd pause; look at you like you're insane and maybe spit out what the actual fuck is wrong with you. Like the reality:

This doesn't have to end, no?

"Sorry about your phone battery," you tell her, brushing out the knot at the base of her skull. She exhales, goes soft; lets you tug lightly. "We’ll figure things out when Sana can actually text you, okay?"

"Dumbass. When it's warmer and you drive down to meet her."

"You're not jealous," you tell her. You’ve decided for her.

Tzuyu rolls, leans down on her back, smiling prettily-

"Nope," she agrees, pulling your cock out: already hard, ready to cum down her throat. Her fingers pump soft, slow, the anticipation- "just not done."

"Crazy."

She shrugs and lets the silence calm the world around the two of you; at least for a little while. "Takes a certain kind," she agrees.

"Permissiveness. Like what I'm seeing. Your brand or whatever."

"It’s straight from the heart." She shoots up, making a face you want to kiss. "Honestly."

"Absolutely sincere," you deadpan, and she ignores the jab.

"Tie a bow with my hair," she chuckles, the laughter light, and your fingers graze her temple. "Come on. I'll make you so proud. So pleased. Sir. Let me, let me-"

"Only if I can finish down your throat," you retort - half-joking, but, her eyes grow warm, molten, the lust is immediate - you tip her head, lower it gently - she bites down onto her lip, nods a bit.

-

You don't take her right away. Not at first. You’re trying to show some restraint, trying not to think about how Tzuyu wears clothes like a vice. She's that kind of girl. Like an accident waiting to happen. She's moving around the kitchen later, poking about the cabinets. She's slid into some jeans that fit her a little too well, and one of those obscenely thin t-shirts.

You watch her back muscles work, how the cotton bunches as she leans, arms extending. Her chest's flat against the counter to grab whatever item's out of her reach. You catch the ribbon in her hair bob slightly back into place when she stands back up. The hairline on the nape of her neck catches a long highlight of a morning, the thin strands a brilliant brown, a spark of warmth in the midst of a muted winter morning - and it's honestly amazing to look at.

(Her ass hangs out in the open like an invitation. Your eyes are running down every curve of denim like they can't help but search.)

"Tzu," is the warning, and she flashes a grin; turns, the expression shifting, wide. "I can literally see everything you have."

"Hm." The front of her shirt lowers, too - her black bralette, barely a scrap of lace and string, visible through the thin fabric. "If I'd known you'd like that so much, you could've told me earlier."

"It's not your job to figure me out."

"Well, I'm not sorry." The words are sugar sweet, with an almost fake concern: her feet pivot, her ass filling your vision- Tzuyu spreads her hands down her outer thighs.

"Be nice," you reiterate. "C'mere."

Her legs snap to you quick.

-

You are careful, tentative and slow. You leave the ribbon in place and everything; just your mouth, like you have a right to lick down her breasts, her stomach, her clit - like you deserve the faint marks where your hands pressed down onto her waist.

The slow licks, the soft kisses; you could eat her out until the sun sets and Tzuyu was left sobbing through the overstimulation. Her fingers rake your hair like it’s exactly what she’s hoping you’ll do.

When Tzuyu does let go: she doesn't drop. There is no shame, nor shameful whimpers. Instead, she fucking screams, so high and clear it doesn't seem possible: a singer's wail.

"Sir!" she's crying, you can feel it through every tremble. "Oh my god, please-"

You get her to climax twice before the tears fall, your fingers tracing her spine, pressing deeper, a knuckle, then two-

She looks at you in abject reverence, "God, you don't know," is the gasp, "how perfect you are," and you're sure. You'll never get it right again: at least, not without her.

She cums a third time, shivering, collapsing: her eyes wide, glossy, breath shallow, limbs giving in. The sweat clings to her like a lover, a life she doesn't know how to leave.

So, you ask:

"What now, doll?"

Her tongue sweeps the corner of her mouth, a tiny wrinkle.

"Whatever," Tzuyu exhales. "Fuck, whatever, seriously, that was like- amazing- but my throat is actually going to murder me."

"Was the screaming really that necessary."

"Not sure- about anything," is the groggy admission, "like, honestly. Too horny to care, but." She pauses for a second. "You," she finally decides.

"I," is the immediate reply.

"I’ll let you do - anything, but I- can I, like, get a breather? For a minute. Can you wait, like, just."

Her arms open: you settle against her side, and a shaky hand starts combing through your hair. Her other palm lifts to rest against your cheek, cupping it. The nails tap gently along your hairline. 

"Been waiting so long, Tzu, honey," and it doesn't sound as cruel or glib as the slip up should be construed - doesn't even bother to count on forgiveness, either. Maybe you're beyond all of that, honestly, and more or less in love, as a result. It’s kind of fucked. What’s a minute more?

She laughs softly, a cough catching up and sounding pained. She's lost her voice, the poor thing, she’s cummed herself hoarse and ragged and you’re proud of your handiwork.

"Honey," you hear her say, and she shakes, pulls herself closer, kisses you back: like the old, gentle motion can ever fully cure the fever of desire that grips the two of you. It's a pipedream, and you're kissing her. It's a pipedream, and you know it.

-

The calls start coming in after the sun sets and the cabin grows cool with the dark: you feel, faintly, that it's inevitable. That the snow would clear and time would start marching on, a predetermined cycle. (That, maybe, something in the universe - at this stage, almost a hundred years of weather, tectonic plates, astronomical phenomena, interconnected - knew the two of you needed that bit of seclusion.)

"I dunno, just some bog-standard hotel, holiday suites or something. The point is: the roads don’t open until tomorrow and I've been holed up for a while." Sana sighs into the phone. The static pops. "Oh my god, I'm bored out of my mind. I've had like, three full bags of crisps in one sitting, which is just plain wrong."

"You're basically living off carbs." You say this from in front of the fireplace. Tzuyu is sitting on the opposite side of the couch paging through a stack of magazines, wearing a big jumper and sweats and socks pulled up to her knees. Her hair is falling around her shoulders in soft waves, and it makes her look small and domestic and a bit docile - she’d re-tied the ribbon in her hair after you’d fucked it off her, and that more or less completes the look.

"Yes, I have gone off the deep end. A tragic, awful spiral. Because you're not here. Fuck, you have no idea."

"Ah- Sana." You stop. Take a deep breath.

"Do you have any idea? The state of me right now? seriously. I packed so many fucking condoms and the idea of bringing them back home is more defeating than anything else." She lowers her tone a little, then adds, "because, not to be weird, I was kinda sorta hoping we might use them when I got up there."

You blink. Tzuyu isn't even pretending to look anywhere else. Her whole face is shifting into a satisfied expression, and when she catches you looking, she winks.

"Right. Now this might sound like a surprise," Sana is continuing, her voice full of amusement, "but when I get stuck somewhere, alone and thinking about the weather- I'm often in need of a fuck. Please be prepared to service, because god damn, I've got nothing and it's gonna have to be the battery."

"Is that Sana?" Tzuyu interrupts, the tone hushed, but lofty.

You make a face, like: who the fuck else - but that makes her smirk; Sana sighs, then laughs.

"So if you like, you know. If you feel like the vibe is there. I'd appreciate the hand out."

Tzuyu walks over: sets herself down between your feet and kisses your knee. Just to fuck with you. Because she wants to. She holds the kiss, the bow in her hair, done up tight and shiny, visible. You want to tug the stupid thing until it unravels; all your fingertips, her lips, and she sighs-

"Oi," Sana's saying on the line. You can hear her crash onto her bed. "You still there?" 

"I'm sorry," you say, "are you uh, asking for phone sex - or did I totally read that all wrong."

"Nope. Pretty direct." Sana laughs, and the sound should make it easy to close your eyes, picturing it: a silver smile, the low slung skirt and a stretch of stockinged leg, the twinkle of a drink as the ice hits her mouth. It’d be easy, y'know, if your gaze wasn't pinned on the girl who's settled at your feet.

"Oh, jesus, okay," you manage to breathe. Tzuyu hums a little: reaches for your fly. "Is there anything, anything that you want me to do?"

Sana's laughter drops to a murmur: the air goes heady as Tzuyu parts the zipper and rolls down the waist of your pants- "ask me what I'm wearing, duh."

"Boring," Tzuyu breathes into the air. Because apparently Sana's defining trait is being loud. The kiss to your clothed cock is hot, teasing - her eyes never lift away, "always, always start with, 'darling, sweetheart,' or something stupid, sweet." Her tone is pure syrup: you can feel the warm, the wet; a fucking tease, all the way to her core.

"What are you wearing, darling?" you ask, dryly. Tzuyu rolls her eyes.

Sana's grin widens and you swear it's audible, "oh, just these boring pajamas." She draws it out slow and sexy and completely aware. "It's all loose cotton, and it doesn't hang off me, just folds."

"Is it the type that comes down to the mid-thigh? The white kind, where you can see through to the skin?"

"That's a little presumptive, don't you think? A bit on the nose? Yeah, fine, I'm wearing the kind, if you absolutely insist. These legs, bare. Maybe you'd want to bite. Y'know. Mark 'em'. Whatever."

Tzuyu is kissing the outline of your shaft. Pulling your hard-on out from its confines - all gentle and tentative. Her pretty brown eyes dart upward, gauging: okay, just do your thing - you shrug - but it'd be so helpful if you could scoot to the end of the cushion for me, can you-

"Yeah," you're agreeing into the phone, somewhat vague - to no one in particular. You don't give Tzuyu just an inch; instead, you lift your thighs toward her. Sliding, Tzuyu pulls your pants down: enough. There's a delicate pressure applied at the bottom of your cock, right at the base, right where Tzuyu drags her nails. "Let's have that show off a little," your breath comes shallow, "then. Strip, real slow. We can try for something sexy I guess."

"You," Tzuyu kisses the base and shuffles up the rest of your shaft, "just love bossing people around," then her lips part: the slightest graze, then warmth, the faint suction. “Don’t you?”

"Uh-huh," says Sana, and then the rustle of cloth: and you could imagine her, really, lifting the shirt up, off, sliding it along the inside of her ribs, over the tips of her breasts - she'd cup them, lean into the contact. Sana's hands are always on her tits, or the spread of her hips - she likes the shape of her body more than anyone else. "Sometimes, that's the best way," she tells you. Her breath is hot, full of sex. "Being told what to do. Isn't that true, hm?"

Tzuyu tilts forward, lets your cock drop over her bottom lip. It leaves a smear of spit in its wake, the sensation electric. Her head falls, swallows the whole of the tip: her tongue immediately swirls. A hot little pulse. Her cheeks hollow.

"Yeah. Some could probably argue," your breath catches, the weight of the sensation, the fullness, your hips arch, your spine straightens. The electricity goes through your stomach and down your spine; you can feel the wave rolling along. Tzuyu giggling into the stiff line of your cock-

"Telling us both?" Tzuyu smiles again, running her lips slowly up and down the sides, teasing with her breath and her fingers running down the ridges. "What you want." She hums low, into the hot air.

You press your phone to your neck. "Can you, like-

Tzuyu pulls her mouth off your cock. Just sits there blinking. “Hm?” she asks, tugging a strand of her hair from the corner of her mouth.

“Just please stay quiet, or something- this is already harder than I thought it would be," the joke is as unsubtle as they come, "jesus, okay-" and put the phone back to your ear, "shit, Sana- can you, like-"

Her fucking mouth. The seal, the press - the tongue swirling around your head. Fuck.

“Yeah, babe? What do you want to know?”

The words aren't coming and a very obvious swallow is, Tzuyu leaning closer, and her fingers tangle with yours - guiding you closer, guiding your hand to the ends of her hair.

"Explain," is somehow where you land, shaky. You stick the landing just enough that Sana might buy it. "What are you doing now?"

"Slow circles. On my nipples, pinching," her voice strains, then settles,"yeah, the tip's so sensitive. Jihyo was laughing that guys always obsess over her tits. Always wanna suck, or nibble and I'm like, girl, what the hell are you complaining for?" - Tzuyu inhales a huge breath, and then another: her lips, those eyes - open and glossy, every movement steady like she knows just how to make the wait worth it - "or, or maybe I'm just weird, because the first time I felt someone's teeth and their tongue. Fuck, like, I almost screamed. Or, cried. Literally."

"Hah," and Tzuyu brings her lips lower. Moves her hair gently out of the way to take the rest of you into her mouth: bobbing up, her lips puckering in some rhythm, and her tongue darts, swirls the edge of the cock. Tongue at the slit. The pressure. Fuck, your head falls back. Every breath sounds heavy, loud. "Fingers,” you huff, “are good too I'm sure. I’d be paying close attention. Making you feel good."

"Mhm." Sana agrees. "The little pinches, ugh, I could die happy if you did just that, it's that fucking amazing."

"Baby," you half-moan. You’re struggling. The mouth stops, then sinks: down, all the way. Fucking amazing. Fucking hell.

"Oh?" Sana laughs airly, "are you touching yourself, hm? No fair, are you going to leave me all lonely here-"

You can see that smirk. The fuckery that would come: Sana's version.

"Sir," Tzuyu mumbles, sounding muffled. Her mouth is a tight vise of warmth, and your hand threads through her hair again. You hold, tighten the ribbon a bit, and Tzuyu stares at you through half-lidded eyes: you don't think she'll blink until you make her cry, and by then-

“Fuck,” Sana says, totally flat, "I'm actually pretty wet," the emphasis, "so I'd like some real advice, y'know-"

You see her legs. The tops. The bottom, all the way down- and you inhale sharply, too much and too hard.

Tzuyu has her fist at the base of your cock and her palm is sliding down the slick flesh and, a moment later, up, meeting her mouth at the top of its stroke - and, without a goddamn care, she hollows her cheeks - puckers her lips along the surface.

You were right. "This is hell."

Sana hums a laugh. "Need me that bad, huh? We're missing each other by just a couple days."

You stroke the top of Tzuyu's hair, her bow bobbing in a nice little bounce. Sana would know better than to wear her hair up. To even go near this, her throat - you hold her jaw steady, maybe a second, the moment of recovery to make Tzuyu slow and careful: her tongue does a pass at the sensitive, rigid underside of the crown, the sudden movement - before she speeds up.

"Picturing your hand." She tells you in a languid tone.

"God," you half-say, half-moan, and Tzuyu is good. So fucking good, and the mouth is too damn eager and it's difficult to think.

You barely get your hand free to switch to speaker, then let it clatter to the side. Tzuyu grinning, her lips flushed red and wet and dragging over your cock, sliding down, her tongue doing another pass, swirling at the center, the flare-

"Thinking about you, actually, fuck," Sana has a hitch to her breath that wasn't quite there before. "Doing those things, that mouth all over, Jesus Christ - ah- my legs, my breasts, fuck- are you jerking off right now? You sound, well, pretty uh, yeah."

"Just saying," you breathe, as the shock and the sensations rise and fall; Tzuyu's edging you in her mouth, her own head starting to shake, her chin bobbing up and down the full, long line of your dick - she's never done anything by halves. "It's getting- I'm thinking about you, Sana, of course, and your- pretty cunt, god, of course, so- ah, close- you said you were wet?"

"Huh? Of course, dripping. Imagining you - your thick, your cock," Sana sorta giggles, out of it then-

Tzuyu moans. Her body is pliant and her shoulders roll; she sucks, her cheeks dip, her back arches, and all of the noises hit the air thick, all while Sana's voice sharpens - both girls, two. You're slipping off the cushion, and probably out of your mind. The ache builds and burns and yearns for some sort of release- 

"-how wet and tight I would feel, after so fucking long. Please, fuck, fuck-" you hear Sana, "would you, fuck, c'mon, how I would look, on top of you? Could feel- the stretch, your cock deep inside. The, fuck- friction."

There’s this beat, where it’s just Sana’s stiff breathing; you can picture her wrist between her thighs, the pump, the twist as her fingers run over and over again through the sound of her slick. You’re left wondering if she can hear too, the mouth trailing kisses along your balls, tongue gliding back up and swallowing your length whole.

“Mnph.” Tzu chokes down a little.

And you look down, you have to eventually - to see the steady stare. Tzuyu's brows pinched and her eyelashes fanning out over the hollowed curve of her cheekbones. Pretty, fuck. Beautiful. So sexy: she looks up, swallows you back, like a fucking slut. Her mouth, wet, messy, hot, and her body-

"Third finger, by the way," Sana strains, "'cause- fuck, my pussy - my tight little hole would be swallowing your cock so damn good."

"Mmm, fuck." You're reduced to your base instincts, pulling Tzuyu's hair, dragging her wet, velvety mouth onto your shaft - she follows willingly, no question of her pace slowing, but - more, and more, and you could probably cum in her mouth if her hands weren't clasped firmly over your thighs and you weren't brushing away the tears pricking the ends of Tzuyu's lashes- you won't tell. Not with your fingers. Fuck. Her nails bite at the skin of your bare legs. She looks angry, insistent. Choking.

Sana sounds just as out of sorts, out of breath, "you would feel so fucking good. Look so good. Let me have it- whatever I need, yeah?" And you think she's close: it's that keen edge, a faint, broken whine. She's never going to finish any way except- "would you, inside me? Y'know- make me cum, real full. God- are you close? Would you make a mess out of me? Of my pretty pussy?"

“Okay, holy fuck-" and the question barely even hits you. 

Tzuyu is glaring now, shaking: she wants you to lose it, and she looks furious, holding her fingertips, her thumb on the base of your cock: a new pressure, a new feeling, a new pulse, a new high- she wants you to forget about Sana, maybe. What she sounds like, how she looks. Her legs wide, her bare, slicked skin on display. For you, yes. Fucking her until she- "uh, baby," and this time, your voice makes her smile, and her teeth drag. You wince. Her pupils are blown out, and there's a flush building in her chest. "Where are you?"

"Laying down. Flat- god. Where I'm always-" and you imagine a plane of soft, tanned, toned legs, her wide hips, "I'd, yeah, in a second. Pressure at my back- it would feel so fucking good, y’know, if you were here."

You have no doubt in your mind: Sana would be gorgeous. Even from the back, she'll be hotter, fuck, she always is, especially like that - and the movement of Tzuyu's fingers tightens against the straining, needy ache, and- 

"Please, fuck, fuck- need to-"

"Would cum- a lot, that's it- over my back. Oh, yes, all over my back. My ass. Messy. fuck that's actually so good, jesus christ-" and then Sana lets out another soft keen and a shout - and it's so sweet and high-pitched and familiar, almost musical; she's cumming, hard. You're only a second, a third behind and-

Your balls draw tight and a coil in your stomach unfurls-

Tzuyu sees you, grins, your eyes trained on the pink of her mouth and her perfect, wet lips and the deep brown eyes - her dimpled cheek is the softest fucking thing - but the rest, her mouth, her wet heat: it's pure sensation. The tight vise of a throat swallowing, the taste on the flat of her tongue. You've got your cock shoved deep in her mouth, and you're not easy to take. Fucking Tzuyu's face, thrusting and the throbs of your cock pumping out a hot, heavy spill. More and more: sticky, filling, spreading out from the corners of her lips. Tzuyu gurgles, struggling - fuck, finally letting go with a weak pop, falling back, and the white mess runs hot over her mouth. Your release smeared across her lips, dripping off her jaw - fucking christ - her tongue, her eyelashes - a wild mess of fluid. It splatters against her pale skin - runs down the hollow of her throat to the edges of her chest. She has her fingers working fast still, a squelching tight fist: you cum all over the stupid, cutesy bow too. It's all you see, the only thing-

“Fuck,” Sana says, oblivious. “That’s good.”

-before your eyelids shutter close, a ringing in your ears and your heart racing; and, not far, another sigh, followed by the slide of your phone down the couch.

"Aw, you done already?" Sana says. Lazily. You can see the look on her face, probably rubbing her pussy and thinking about more - if there’s any two ways the girls compare, it’s this allergic reaction to anything like temperance or moderation. You need new friends, new lovers; this can’t last.

"Uh-huh." The back of your head digs into the couch cushions. Fuck. Sana. Phone. On speaker. Oh. Right. Shit. "But I was- mnph. Uhh." Your brain has lost a lot of blood. It's doing nothing. Nothing but losing blood. You wish it’d stop. “I’m here, Sana, talk to me.”

Sana giggles at that, delighted, "don't tell me you're in such bad shape I need to save you-"

"The uh," your voice slurs. Then you're pulling the phone to you, closer. Fuck. Yeah. You're an idiot. Your breath is heavy: "I could go for more, yeah, how’re you feeling?"

"So fucking tired." Her breathing sounds less ragged. A full breath. A pout: a poor me.

"Hmm." Tzuyu crawls onto you. Slides the fabric of your shirt between her palms, up and down your ribs. She pushes the sweater and tee away. Bares your stomach- then kisses there. Lower, and then rises, looking through her lashes. It's clear: a demand. She'll be insisting, pressing down on you, kissing, running her teeth along the edges of your shoulders, your neck. She’ll kiss you right now if you let her - until she sinks into a promise at the center of your body. Your back is arching off the leather from the sensitivity, and Tzuyu has her lips all over you - smiling when your hands tangle with the long strands of her hair.

She pauses. You drop a hand to Tzuyu's waist. Pinch.

"Ow-" she says, coming across slightly betrayed. 

And, satisfied with the expression her face, the phone cradled between your chin, her lips warm over your ribs, her head tickling the edges of your jaw, you keep laughing, or you want to, but Tzuyu takes you between her thighs, lifts a little on your cock - her eyes widen: she's testing your flexibility. Trying to drag this out, trying for teasing. She’s good at that (a verifiable truth), but you’re you - you see right through it: she likes how it feels, the thickness and size of you. Tzuyu keeps sliding slowly down the full length, letting you fill her inch by inch - her slick heat feels unbearable.

“God,” she mutters, and she’s making the dreamiest expression - the blush in her cheeks, the eyelids hung low, the mouth slightly agape - she lifts up, then slams all the way to the base, flush. You grab anything you can to hold onto. Her legs. Her ass. Her thighs. Her jaw. That perfect little fucking waist.

She’s sublime. Your cock is bathing in her slick, the wet heat, the throbbing pulses - she's gasping in your lap, like she can’t believe how good you feel filling her cunt.

"Sana," you grit, "there's- nothing else in the world I'd rather do right now than shove my cock-” 

“Ugh,” Sana sighs in agreement, in imaginary bliss. “In my little fucking pussy- you’re making me miss you, or something, jesus-”

You squeeze her thigh and her lips quirk, just barely, a challenge.

"Want put a nice thick load" - the hand on Tzuyu's hip brings her down in your lap, fucking up hard as her chest racks with breath - "in your slutty little cunt" - you fuck her faster, the sounds of flesh against flesh obscene - "fill up your pussy, princess. Would cum in it until" - and the last inch of your cock, filling Tzuyu’s cunt, you've no control - "you're a mess, you're dripping in it-"

Tzuyu's movements still. A pause. Her hips. Your own, and all the rest, every nerve in your body is on fire. 

She moves with the most graceful slide, her wet lips gliding - gripping - up your cock. Then, down. The quiet. The lull. The pause before she does it again. She has cum all over her face, and she’ll kill you. You’ll let her.

"God. We'll have to get around to it," Sana finally tells you, dryly, "when this fucking snow clears. Say hi to Tzuyu for me won’t you?"

-

You're not a bad person. 

(The reassurance that you aren’t - or don’t want to be? - is probably still not super convincing. There's some line drawn there, blurred, crossed, and thoroughly annihilated by your actions, you think, vaguely, but maybe it's better if no one sees, hears, finds out. The finer details matter a lot less at that point.)

You're like anybody else: you get desperate to hold onto something, somebody, even for just a moment. Sometimes you don’t even need a reason at all.

Tzuyu is stepping out of the shower, her head bobbing: it takes everything in you not to drag her back in there. She’d let you. She wouldn’t even complain.

You can hear the catch and the slide of a bath towel, the wisp of water hitting the bottoms of her feet and trailing, an exaggerated moan - a gesture, meant to entice, a suggestion: fuck her right back in the shower until her hair is plastered to her cheeks, and she's panting. Or the steam lifts her breasts in a gentle, humid press. That mouth on the tiles - sobbing.

“Tzu,” you call out, and she just continues humming some indifferent tune. 

You pull a thick sweater over your head: it's gray wool, and it's all clean and good and new. When she wraps her arms around you, a deep inhale: a grin, then a shiver. She's naked and dripping everywhere, wet hair leaving a trail in its wake. She burrows her face in the folds of fabric at your spine - and if you turned, the slightest movement, the smooth line of her torso would be exposed, and your fingers could trace down her belly button, the tips dipping between her legs-

The window is fogging at the bottom, the steam slipping out in tendrils - but the heat can't compete against the girl all wet and dripping, and it does nothing but give way to the cold, seeping in.

"I still think it's funny," she says, all matter of fact. "It's weird that this isn't awkward."

“What’s that?”

She's at the doorway.

“Us. Being here.”

You turn, and Tzuyu pulls at your sweater: looking for attention, always seeking out the easy praise. Her hand automatically slides beneath the cloth of your collar, drawing your jaw up for a short, hard kiss.

"Okay," and there's a small nod, the line of her throat pulsing as she breathes, "yeah," her chest rising and falling.

"Look at you,” you tell her. “All dry and tidy. Cute. "

A dumb comment earns you the tiniest smile, then she's leaning back, taking her hands to her hair and wringing out the water, pulling and tugging at the tangles - the towel wraps around her waist again and again, and she looks good, clean: it makes you think of what comes later. Not having to give a fuck - at least not for a little while.

"Jeez," she's shivering, still, and rubbing the tops of her arms, "and Sana is gonna be, like, all over you once she gets the chance. Wants a nice lay too, from the sound of it. Was being honest about that. Seems pretty pent up."

“Maybe you can help,” you offer, a bit flippant. She smiles - but in all seriousness, it’s a resounding: no.

There's something else, too, as she runs her fingertips, absently, through her hair - it falls flat on her neck and around her bare shoulders, dark against the lightness of her skin, but somehow you get the impression that she's not entirely preoccupied. "Y'know, I had a really good time and all, but I'm not the homewrecker type, yeah - it's not worth the stress," a slight shrug, like she isn't certain, her mind a little more tangled than usual, and for good reason, too, "probably won't hook up ever again."

"Gloomy," you tease.

"Don’t act like you're not going to miss it," she says, conspiratorial - and Tzuyu plants herself where you can feel her in your space - but she doesn't press. "Even when you're keeping busy, you'll have the smallest reminder, like - aha, Tzuyu would've really liked this, or that - when, y'know - you're stuck somewhere, thinking about the weather," and her cheeks are heating with color as her tongue forms the syllables - and the meaning is clear now as it always was.

“Even if you’re like, totally smitten, or whatever with her,” she adds, smirking.

"Sana will be back to her usual antics in no time. Being annoying and forward and whatever," you reply. "Won't miss much."

The girl's expression flickers a little - a slight twitch - but otherwise, a flat look.

She fixes the lay of her towel across her wide hips. You reach for her arm: pull at it, pulling her toward.

"I mean- Sana and I have a few things in common, anyway. Something in common. Can both be a spoilsport. Dull. Can be a bit, uh, territorial, if you you know-"

The rest is cut off, the words running into a kiss, deep and desperate; there's no place like her mouth: soft, eager, hot.

"And our usual antics?" she asks.

She leans into you, the chill starting to set, a fire burning nearby: something clandestine that maybe shouldn't last as long as it does. A log settling against the others, another plume of heat, and you say, a touch solemn,

"Dunno if we've ever been in common about anything, babe."

"Jeez. You don't have to spell it out like that, do you?" Tzuyu laughs lightly, holding the bath towel at her hips - her breasts are bare. They fall without support, her nipples, the slope of her ribs, everything. "I mean, how cruel."

(It isn't really. Because, here's the thing. In the grand scheme of things, Chou Tzuyu was never really supposed to happen at all.)

-

The snow clears, like all things you suppose, slowly and with a sigh: with the change in winds and a promise for a gradual spring. Tzuyu steals a shirt. Doesn't seem inclined to return it, says she's good at letting her imagination do half the work in lieu of the actual sex. (The nip is like a sting: it'll last longer, apparently. The bruising at the edges of her waist is more abstract.)

You’re in the driveway. Tzuyu’s leaning back on her luggage.

She kisses you like she wants to make you lose something: her lipstick, her mind, her heart or soul. And when her arms slide, her mouth parting - her tongue darting and sweeping, taking - Tzuyu knows a good many things about herself. She knows you, too. What makes her wet, what gets her off. What part of you will always come back to her. But her hair falls heavy: so much silk. She's laughing - a grin and she's licking the pink right off her teeth and she's beautiful and you think you'll want this always:

A girl like her, kissing so eager for you-

"You can totally say it first," she tells you, that mouth at the edge of your ear.

"Um," you say, and she settles down a little further, her wrists locked behind your neck. "You are so: clingy."

The look she gives you is adorable. All dimple, no worry. “Yeah, so?”

“How is that fair?”

"I don't really care if it is or isn’t. We’d be good together - and that’s a fact. So say something good, or I'm getting in that cab right now."

So you do. You do. The first word, the syllable, the way you ask her, the sound that is something like: mine, and the way it dries the edge of your throat; you kiss it away and she giggles because maybe this means, after a while, you really are as terrible as she always hoped.

She'll give you everything. She says, yours, and it would always be you; she halts a bit, and says it like she’s thawing a revelation, one that’s been there since the start - says she loves you and she always has. You laugh and she says it again: always.

-

Sana ends up standing in the cabin a day later. The same place you stood, watching Tzuyu lick yogurt off her spoon. Her coat looks expensive. There's her purse. The boots. That red-painted mouth. Her eyes are fixed, and she sees nothing out of the ordinary. Which is probably, you think, ideal.

"That's funny," her face betrays nothing.

The cabin smells a little like burning wood, vaguely: peppermint tea. An electric kind of heat and the warmth of the sun. It had smelled like evidence prior, the way a girl gets with her underwear missing, hair a tangled mess, body sore and aching, a wet bed. You'd looked like a pair of kids caught in a terrible storm, a lovers' quarrel in a small space - or, just: well-fucked.

"What's funny?" is how you finally manage.

"I just mean," she starts again, "she used to have like. The craziest crush on you. It would’ve been cute if it wasn't sorta sad. Did you know? You couldn't, I guess." She shrugs: a heavy lift of her shoulders, a release. The tension is leaking everywhere. "Must've been torture for her to get stuck here with you."

"Huh," you say, like you were missing something, which is exactly the wrong tone and definitely the wrong sentiment. “Oh, the crush. That. Sure.” You’re suppressing a smile. “Torture, yeah. Hey. Don't worry about it. I’m sure we’ll be fine."

-

(You can’t stop running it back through your head, her long dark hair disappearing into the cab. She loves you and you love her, and it’s got this beautiful caveat of being something simple-complex. Like, who would ever believe any of this? Like, who else even matters? 

You say, you belong to me, and she agrees without even thinking. 

“You always knew, though. From the start, you always did. I was never going to be anyone else's," and then she pouts. "Wouldn’t hurt telling me, from time to time."

And the mountains have a way of feeling like the end, sounding like the closing score, the credits - you look out at the white caps and reflect: maybe you shouldn’t have let her go. Maybe you should chase after her. Maybe you could still make it work. Maybe you should consider that a promise.

You look up at the sky, the pale blue - and maybe you can afford to let her go. 

You know you’ll only find your way back.)

#tzuyu smut #twice smut #tzuyu #twice tzuyu smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

[confused-alpaca]

oh boy i ought to try and see a physiotherapist again

#alpaca.txt #i got discharged months ago from the last one bc i was no longer in pain all the time #idk if they can actually help anymore bc ill just be told to rest and use it less and #im doing the minimum! that i can do! but like! i have to fill my time with something #and literally everything requires use of hands #and i have to draw sometimes. i cant not do it. i have to make things i will explode if i cant #i hate seeing doctors i cannot describe my pain i cannot remember the pain ive had i cannot make notes on it #and they cant help me unless i tell them but i am unable to tell them. i have tried notes it Does Not work. #there are so many things wrong with me worsened bc i got megadepressed and did nothing at all for a couple years #urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh #in othernews ive been watching steven universe and its been. an experience #its interesting. watching something where you found out the ending years ago bc u didnt care then #and seeing how they get from the start to what u know is coming. get to see all the foreshadowing on the first watch #i finished it and i really want to draw some of it but. the ouch is here i cant. #i say finished i havent watched future but i dont think i want to. change your mind felt like enough of an ending for me #i feel like seeing more will take away from it. i saw stuff about it when it came out and i think itd be good. #but i dont know. im not really interested in it. its not the same #idk #its like with stranger things. s4 of that is probly really good but the end of s3 felt like it was The End of the story. its done. over #a complete story it doesnt need more

[strniohoeee]

Rouge

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Chris wants his makeup done for fun by Y/N. However things don’t go to plan, and some events take place….💜 requested by @mammon-lovesjade1

Warnings⚠️: This is smut…just two best friends fucking….you know the norm😁

Song for the imagine: Coming Down-The Weeknd

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

The party’s finished and I want you to know

(I’m all alone)

I’m feelin everything before I got up

I always want you when I’m

(Coming down)

The one thing I loved the most more than filming content or hanging with my friends was doing my makeup. It was so relaxing, and made me feel so pretty. My whole channel and TikTok was based on get ready with me’s and makeup tutorials

I had just finished filming TikTok’s with some new makeup I got when I saw Chris commented on one of my videos. “Ouuu me next please” it read. I replied back to him to tell him I was down.

Chris came over fully ready to get glammed up, and I found it adorable. He was really my best friend. He let me try new hair products on him, new nail products, skin care products. I mean just about anything, so him wanting his makeup done made me excited.

I think he truly enjoyed physical touch as a form of an affirmation of one’s love for him, but he’d never admit that. He was sitting on my vanity chair as I was hunched over trying to do his makeup

“Ouch you keep poking me in the eye with that damn thing” he said flinching

“I’m sorry, I’m hunched over” I said laughing and covering my mouth

“Want me to stand up?” He asked me

“No because then you’ll be too tall” I said back

“Oh so then sit on my lap” he said nonchalantly

This made my throat run dry. I mean I wasn’t sure that I had a crush on Chris, but I found him super attractive. We were only friends so this request seemed a bit too intimate for my liking.

“No it’s fine” I said looking for a makeup brush

“I don’t want your back hurting or to keep getting poked in the eye so sit” he said looking at me

“Alright whatever” I said and sat on his lap

Chris didn’t touch me, or make me feel uncomfortable. However my thoughts were running wild. Our groin areas are so close to one another. Had I slid up more my pussy would be directly over his dick, and this sent a shiver up my spine.

Chris and I continued to talk and laugh as I did his makeup. Subconsciously I kept scooting up on his lap not even realizing what I was doing. I went to draw on his lip with a lip liner when he jumped causing me to jump as well and land on his dick again

“Fuck” he said bringing his finger to his lip

“I’m sorry, what did I do?” I said giggling

“That pencil gave me a splinter or some shit, ow” he said laughing

I looked down at the pencil and saw it needed to be sharpened

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it needed to be sharpened” I said laughing again

“That shit scratched the fuck out of me” he said touching his lip again

“Let me see it” I said

He moved his hand away and I leaned in closer to see his lip. There was the tiniest little scratch but nothing to draw blood

“It’s nothing you’re okay just a scratch” I said rubbing his top lip with my thumb, not realizing how seductive this move was

“How about gloss instead?” He said laughing

“Ouu okay” I said leaning over to grab a gloss, and it was only then did I feel a sudden hard bulge on my inner left thigh.

I swallowed thickly as I froze. My eyes went wide. Does he really have a boner? Or am I going crazy, I thought to myself. Do I address it or not?? I decided to ignore it grabbing the lip gloss and turning to him

Chris’ eyes looked different almost like his pupils were dilated and they had a glossy cast over them. Y/N get it together please!

I applied the clear gloss to his lips

“Okay perfect your lips look great” I said closing the bottle and putting it back

“Do they?” He asked me in a gruff tone

“They do” I said looking down at his lips

“Just kiss me then you’re begging for it” he said jokingly

“Chris you literally have a hard on right now shut up” I said rolling my eyes

His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed red

“Shut up I thought you didn’t notice” he said looking away and laughing

“Mmm it’s pretty hard not to notice it, I’m sitting right on it” I said looking down

“I’m sorry, just the moving around and the touching it got me going” he said

“It’s okay….maybe I like it” I said licking my lips

“Oh?” He questions cocking his head to the side

I looked him up and down before crashing our lips together. Chris immediately kissing back as his right hand came up to cheek pulling me in closer.

I subconsciously started to grind down on him as his lips moved from my mouth to my neck leaving wet open mouthed kisses. Chris slid his hands up my shirt wrapping his hands around my torso and pulling me down to grind harder

“Shit Chris” I moaned out at the friction

“Can’t you see what you do to me” he said against my skin as his eyes traveled up to look at me

“I didn’t know I had a such an affect on you” I said biting my lip as he left kisses on my collarbones

“Big time baby, big time” he said running his hands down to my ass and squeezing

Chris pulled away, and I immediately pulled my shirt off and my bra. His eyes darted down to my breast as he cupped them in his hands, kneading and toying with them.

“Fuck” I moaned out licking my now dry lips

Chris brought his mouth to the valley of my breast kissing and licking before taking my right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue, and moaning against me. I could feel how wet I had become from this action alone causing me to grind down onto Chris harder

“Take your shirt off” I said in a hushed tone

Chris pulled away and removed his shirt, I immediately leaned forward and left wet opened mouth kisses along his neck and upper chest. His head leaned back as his grip on my ass strengthened

“Mama I need more” Chris croaked out, this immediately making my heart pound and my pupils dilate. “Mama”?? Fuck this was so hot

I slid off of Chris and slipped my pants off leaving myself in my underwear as I got back on his lap. Pushing my very wet cunt against his dick

“So wet for me” he moaned out looking into my eyes

“Always baby” I said grinding down on him

Feeling his dick so vividly through his thin sweatpants and thin boxers. My underwear were soaked, and I’m sure it left a mark….

Chris attached his mouth to my left nipple as I slowly grinded against him. I swear I was about to cum from this alone.

“I’m going to cum from this alone” I panted out

He released me with a smile spread across his face.

“Get up” he said tapping my thigh

I lifted off of Chris and he slid his pants down along with his underwear. His dick springing up, and my jaw dropping. Fuck he was hung….ive been missing out on this??

He started to stroke his dick while looking at me

“I’m ready when you are” he said

Part of me couldn’t take him serious because he had makeup on and was about to fuck me, but the other part couldn’t take my eyes off his dick, and how badly I needed it

I slid my panties off and walked back over to him, lining myself up with his dick, and slowly sinking down. I had never rode a guy sitting in a chair, but this new feeling felt amazing

His dick curved perfectly enough to push against my g spot, and my clit was hitting his pubic bone perfectly….god this needs to be a position I constantly do

Chris helped me bounce up and down on his dick as we both let out shaky moans. Why am I fucking my bestfriend, and how did this happen so fast, and why don’t I want it to end???

“Fuck Chris just like that” I moaned against his lips

He was gripping my hips and grinding me against him, his dick hitting all the right places.

“Come on mama” he cooed in a raspy voice

My stomach tightened at the pet name again. My mouth falling slack as my brows furrowed

All thought could be heard was our breathing, our skin smacking and the chair scratching against the floor slightly

I began to bounce on Chris dick as he massaged my breast. My body shuddered as I continued to ride him

“Oh fuckkk” I whined out gripping onto his shoulders harder

“You got this, come on” he said biting his lip

I started to get close to my orgasm, so I began to grind against him. My clit hitting his pubic bone in all the right places. His dick kissing my G spot and I swore I was seeing stars.

“I’m going to cum” I moaned out my breathing becoming heavier

“Okay baby, come on” he said looking at my face up and down, taking his bottom lip into his teeth and helping me grind down harder

My upper body shuddered as I clenched around him. Falling into his chest as I came all over his dick. His name spilling from my lips like a chorus as I ran my fingers into his hair pulling at the roots. My thighs and legs shaking as my vision went blank and my hearing went dull. This was the best orgasm I’ve ever had, and it was on Chris’ dick…

Taking shaky breaths as I came down from my high I leaned back looking at Chris with fucked out eyes. I slowly slid off of him and got down on my knees

“What are you doing baby?” He asked

“I want you to cum for me” I said looking up at him

Chris eyebrows raised and he swallowed thickly.

“Okay…yeah” he said biting his lip

He began to stroke his dick and moaning out my name as his jaw fell slack. His lower abdomen began to contract and his thighs got a bit shaky

He stroked harder, and soon his brows furrowed and he looked me in my eyes.

“I’m gonna cum” he said

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, Chris’ eyes lighting up.

Suddenly he came, painting my tongue with his seed as my name fell from his mouth like a mantra.

I swallowed as he leaned back, his breathing becoming shallow as he tried to catch his breath.

“I can’t believe I fucked my best friend” I said getting up and walking over to him running my hands through his hair

“I can’t believe you fucked me while I had makeup on” he said laughing

“I mean hey it didn’t even smudge, look at that my waterproof makeup routine is now sex proof” I said laughing

“Glad we tested it out” he said winning at me

I rolled my eyes as a blush crept up on my neck. I pulled Chris up by his hand

“Let’s shower” I said

He wrapped his hands around my waist as we walked to the bathroom, kissing me on my neck as we waddled

I think I liked this. Fucking my best friend, not dating but also knowing we wouldn’t fuck anyone else. It felt right to me….Chris was going to be the death of me…

The End

ALRIGHTTTT I hope you enjoyed this one🤭. I love yall sooo much, and I’m less than 50 people away from 1,000 followers. When I tell you this is fucking insane. I’m so grateful for all of yall. Love yall dearly🤭🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplet smut #sturniolo smut #smut #chris sturniolo smut #Christopher sturniolo smut #Chris sturniolo x reader smut #Spotify

[squerlly]

flames of desire chapter 5: bonding exercise

Alastor x (f! bunny reader) -Fluff- chapter 1

your POV:

through out my time here in hell I have grown accustomed to the musty hot atmosphere of the underworld and the loud mornings of screaming, gun shots, and road rage, its hell after all and there technically isn't any rules. me and angel hang out a lot more, behind his sex jokes and playful demeaner hes a great friend. husk and I are cool I suppose, according to him I'm more tolerable. Nifftys a bit crazy and energetic but I enjoy helping her clean sometimes, but one person that's been on my mind a lot is Alastor. hes always watching me, I catch him staring at me with that weird smile, I wonder if his face hurts from smiling all the time...none of my business what he does I just wish he wasn't so eerie. I was in the lobby this morning when Charlie called us over for a "bonding exercise", seeing everybody gathered in there seats I sit on the couch next to angel, "good morning everybody thank you for comingggg, I would like to have you all here for a little bonding time yayy!!!..." the silence was defiantly loud... "uhm- well I though we could all do something fun like drawing!" standing behind her vaggie comes out with paper, markers, and crayons "oooo colors" niffty giggles "what's does this look like kinder garden?" "angel please try and at least participate" letting out an annoyed grumble he agrees "fineee..." "great! were all going in partners and you will draw each other, that sound fun right!!?" oh no... "charlies with me, husks with angel, and Alastors with y/n, nifftys can uhm..." "oh oh can I be the judge!!!" "sure..." "you gotta be fucken kidding me..." "aww cmon whiskers I'm not that baddd~" walking to there partners I turn to see Alastor sitting on the arm chair looking at me with a wide grin on his face, "fuck me..." I grumble walking over to sit on the floor beside him "well my dear looks like its just me and you" "yeah... me and you" grabbing two pieces of papers and some crayons "I cant even draw..." "oh don't worry I'm sure you will do just fine!" "why am I doing this again..." "cheer up dear this is supposed to be fun after all, I cant be that hard to draw" "yeah your right just need two colors" scribbling on the paper I start at the base of his face, doodling his creepy smile and red hair, looking up I see him studying me curiously "what's the matter, am I hard to draw?" I say smugly "not at all dear your quite easy to draw" ouch, thanks...

Alastors POV:

I never really focused any time on things such as art, yes I can cook and maybe play the piano but drawings not one of my few good skills although ill give it a shot. I would have never guessed I would be sitting here doing one of charlies silly little projects, attempting to draw y/n I look at here for a while, this is the closest I have ever really been next to her, my she really is small it makes me want to squeez her tiny little body, her head could fit in my hand easily. I have noticed a few things while observing her, her ears twitch when she's focused on things like now, her pink bunny nose twitches when she's scared, and her fluffy tail wags when she's exited or annoyed what a strange individual...

your POV:

"ok guys once your done with your drawings you will show them off to your partners!!", as a few minutes pass by I have finished my drawing and well I'm quite disappointed in myself, man I should have taken art class in high school "I finished if your ready to show them" hell no... "I- I'm done but I don't think I wanna... "oh I'm sure its not that bad" giving the drawing one last glance I turn the page I show him the drawing facing away to hide what little dignity I had left. hearing a quiet static buzz noise I look back up seeing him looking at the drawing with a questionable face "I know its badd!!!" "w-well I wouldn't say that dear its just..." "just say its bad!" "its interesting" "well what does yours look like?" turning his page my jaw drops to the floor, what is this creepy deer man not good at "its not my best work but-" "are you kidding me Al this is good!" standing up I grab the drawing, it was in crayon but it looked just like me. pausing I try to tone down my excitement seeing alastor wide eyed from my reaction "I'm glad you like it dear" "what cant you do" "well I did say I was a man of many talents but drawing isn't one of them" "do you uhh mind if I keep this..." "not at all dear~" "you don't have to keep mine you can just throw it-" "nonsense its mine isn't it?" "yes.." "then I will keep it". for once he seemed to have a genuine smile on his face, not some creepy ass smile, its kind of nice...

Alastors POV:

I don't know why but I wanted to keep her silly little drawing, its...cute?. it looks nothing like me but its quite amusing seeing her all embarrassed. I was surprised to see she liked my drawing, her eyes lit up with a small smile on her face, it feels good to know my work is appreciated even in the... strangest things it gives me a sense of pride, I might hang it in my radio tower...

your POV:

looking at everybody else I saw Charlie bouncing on her heels looking at a little doodle vaggie made how cute~, husk made a sloppy doodle of angel and angel just drew himself. niffty was running around looking at others drawings, eventually she got around to ours, climbing on my shoulder she looks at Alastors drawing "ooooOooo you look so cute in the picture!!" I smile a bit "thanks niff" grabbing her off my shoulder I set her down "well that's the end of the exercise, how was it!" "ehh it wasn't to bad" "it was alright" "whatever...im going back to the bar" Charlie puts on a little smile "well do one again next week, maybe we could make cookies together or do all about ME's oh oh!! what about-" "ok hon slow down" "sorry". this was nice, hell isn't that bad, at least not here. better than home...

hey guys!!! I was supposed to release this earlier but I'm a little sick right now from the cold weather but I refuse to let you guys down! I made this chapter a little longer than usual so I hope you guys loved this cute chapter as much as I did, love you guys have a good day/night

-squerlly

for more content or chapter please click this masterlist

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

#hazbin #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n

[im-sleepdeprived]

Crazier • Pt. 1

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: this is a series ! prob 3 parts im thinking (i think im back AH), editing took me 10000 years actually so if there's something wrong PLEASE don't tell me !!! :D

warnings: umm just me not knowing anything about star wars, girls support girls<3, mentions of breakup, honestly theres nothing wrong but i think i said 'shit' like twice if you give a shit lmfao

"There's no way you actually think 'Return Of The Jedi' is better than 'The Empire Strikes Back'. Like, come on dude, it's so obvious which is better," Ned exclaimed, obviously feeling very strongly about the little debate he had currently going on with Peter. 

However, Peter couldn't have been more nonchalant. "Listen, man, I love debating with you but I know where I stand and this is where I draw the line," he shrugged.

Ned opened his mouth, no doubt to argue some more with his best friend, when his gaze shifted to you, "Hey man, maybe we should talk about something Y/N can enjoy too."

That made your head snap up from where you were just toying with the food on your tray. "Don't worry about me guys," you forced a smile, "Honestly, I love watching Ned beat you into a pulp about movies," you looked at Peter. 

Peter put on his 'sad-puppy-dog-face', "Ouch babe. You're supposed to side with me here, I'm your boyfriend after all." 

"Well, I would've sided with you if you hadn't bailed on me when we were supposed to watch the movies together the other night. If you'd been there then I would've been able to contribute to this conversation and agree with who I genuinely thought was right, which at this moment, I believe, is Ned." 

Ned grinned at you from across the table and you two high-fived while Peter just pouted some more, "I'm sorry sweetheart, I really am but y'know I had the internship."

You rolled your eyes, "Of course, I know that. At this point the surprising thing is whenever you don't have that internship," you looked at Ned, "Dude, do you know how many dates and hangouts he's canceled on me? I feel like I should be able to sue at this point. Can you sue someone for wasting your time?"

Ned winced, "Pete, I love you man, but you need to start actually acting like her boyfriend otherwise you won't be her boyfriend for much longer."

Peter's eyes widened a bit but then his face quickly turned nonchalant, "It was just a few slip-ups, don't worry about it," he threw an arm around you and pulled you in, kissing the top of your head, "but you're right, we should talk about something we'd all enjoy."

Laughing, you said, "I told you guys, I enjoy hearing you debate because Ned is always-"

Peter threw a hand up, "Don't finish that sentence. I've had enough of you two fraternizing against me for the day."

You and Ned laughed some more, "Well honestly, you two can continue your...," you waved your hands, " 'old-couple-bickering' and I can scooch down a little and go hang out with M.J.."

Peter pulled you in closer at that, "No don't leave," he muttered in your hair. 

"Yeah," Ned started, "let's talk about something else like," he trailed off, "OH, you're managing the school play next week, right? That's gotta be interesting, tell us about that."

"It's really nothing 'Manager' is really just a fun name they stuck on me. Mrs. Lightbody does most of the work."

"Oh come on," Peter said, "when you first got the part, it was all you wanted to talk about. What happened?"

you happened, you thought. It's true, you had been too excited that you'd been chosen to be in charge of everything and you couldn't wait to rant to your boyfriend about just that. That was until he basically ignored you and shook it off as nothing, running away for the stark internship. You hadn't really wanted to talk about it with anybody after that. Maybe it wasn't as cool as you'd thought it was. 

You looked down and just shrugged, "Dunno, guess I just didn't think you guys would be interested in it. You've never really shown interest in theater before."

"Well, that was before my gorgeous girlfriend was in charge. Now, go on, tell us what it's like to get a bunch of theater kids on track."

You laughed, "God it's torture. I'm convinced it's some personalized hell made for someone's eternal punishment and I do not envy them."

Peter and Ned laughed along with you, Peter saying, "Yeah I bet. We all know how much you love your control."

You gasped, eyebrows furrowing, "Peter Parker are you saying I'm a control freak?"

He held up both of his hands in surrender, "No of course not babe," he traded a glance with Ned when you weren't looking. 

"Anyway," he propped an elbow on the table, rested his head on his palm, and made a motion with his other hand, "continue."

You looked at Ned, "Are you sure I'm not boring you," you asked, shoving your hand in Peter's face when he went to argue.

"Of course not Y/N! Wild, out-of-control theater kids is a favorite subject of mine," he grinned and you huffed a laugh. 

"Fine, it's not as easy as I thought'd it be I'll say that. There's always someone way out of line, either singing songs from musicals at the top of their lungs or fighting someone else with the props. One time a kid started climbing the curtain bags and it was disastrous."

You told them all the funny stories you had from the past rehearsals and how you couldn't wait for the upcoming ones. 

"Hey these sound fun how come I haven't been to one yet," Peter asked, referring to the rehearsals. 

You scoffed, "Please Parker, you can barely make it to a date. There's no way you're gonna make it to one of these."

Peter felt a wave of guilt rush over him. He'd been leaving you hanging a lot lately. 

"I'm sorry Y/N/N, really I am. But I want to come to one of these. I want to see you doing your thing. In fact, when's the next one I'll be there," he sounded so sure of himself but you weren't. 

"Um," you hesitated, not really sure if you should answer him, "They're every other day after school until opening night. But Peter, honestly, you don't have to come I know how busy your schedule is and you barely fit in things that you need to do, I seriously doubt you have the time to voluntarily do this," you told him, refusing to get your hopes up. 

"Hey," he leaned closer to you, "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately but I promise I'm going to be there for you today."

"Peter," you said quietly not being able to meet his eyes and that alone made his heartbreak, "Don't make promises you can't keep. That never ends well."

"Hey if I said I'll be there, then I'll be there. come on, gotta have a little more faith in me than that sweetheart," he smiled a little, letting it grow into a grin when he saw your lips tugging up at the corners of your mouth. 

"Promise," you asked. 

"Promise," he confirmed, leaning in for a sweet kiss. Maybe he could really be there for you this time instead of-

Something hit the side of your face making you both turn your heads towards your other friend. You looked down to find a bunch of rolled-up napkins lying on the floor. 

"Well as glad as I am that y'all got that settled, let us remember that this is a public space," Ned said making you both laugh. 

"So it's settled, meet you in the auditorium after last period right," Peter asked you, trying to make sure he had the times correct. 

"Oh," you replied, a little shocked that he was actually doing this, "Yeah, if you're showing up then I guess so."

peter laughed, "Y/N come on, what did we just have an entire conversation about? Of course, I'm showing up."

You nodded slowly then looked towards Ned, "I didn't hit my head anywhere just a minute ago, did I?" 

Ned just shrugged, "I'm just as surprised as you are Y/N. Peter needs to step up his game and I'm sure the internship can wait an evening. After all," he gave Peter a hard look before an amused expression took over his face, "After all, what is an internship if not just running around making copies of random things and memorizing dozens of different coffee orders."

"Hey man come on, we've been over this." he nodded his head towards you and widened his eyes slightly, but you didn't notice, too busy taking a sip from your chocolate milk, "This isn't just any internship. I have to be available at every moment in case Mr. Stark decides he needs me on something."

"Mhm, whatever," Ned took a bite of his sandwich, "All I'm saying is that no matter how important it is, you need to learn to divide up your time evenly."

"Don't worry Ned, I'll be sure to sign him up for some time management classes," you said seriously, making Ned choke on his food from laughter. 

Peter sighed, one arm still resting on the table, the palm of it holding his head. his other arm tucked away under the table, hand holding yours. 

you were feeling amazing, your mood completely lifted now. Peter was finally making the first step to fix things after your many failed attempts. Things could start going back to how they were at the beginning of your relationship. sweet, caring, and mutual. 

You were so sick of feeling like this whole thing was one-sided but now things finally looked like they were turning up. 

Little did you know. 

When the day finally ended you couldn't wait. Spending time with Peter while hanging out with your new friends (somewhat, you weren't really sure but you were optimistic) seemed like it be such a good time. Almost too good to be true. 

You rushed towards your locker and gathered your stuff before shooting Peter a text that you'll just meet him in the auditorium. 

You arrived there before anyone else, which was typical, everyone would be wandering the halls with their friends for a while before making their way here. The cast and crew might mess around a bit but in the end, they were extremely passionate about what they did and you knew that in the end, the show would be amazing. They were all incredibly talented. 

little by little everyone started filing in in little groups. You searched them all for Peter but he was never a part of them. Oh well, he was probably caught up with Ned and MJ at the moment. He'll be here in a bit. 

When the majority of people were present you, reluctantly, decided you had to get things started whether Peter was here yet or not. Everyone had to start getting to work and he should be here any minute now. 

"Ok everyone, you've been wandering around long enough. Time to get started," you clapped your hands together, a clipboard held under your arm, "Noah, Jack, and Lacy we've got to start making progress on the set and I don't want paint everywhere we've had one paint fight too many," you narrowed your eyes at Noah and Jack who looked down sheepishly. It had been a mess. It'd looked as if a pride parade had thrown up all over the stage. 

"This background is our last chance and if you mess it up again we'll probably have to cancel and if that happens, I will not hesitate to unleash Lexi on you," you gestured towards the girl who glared at them and you could've sworn you saw them pale which made smile a small smile. 

You pulled out your clipboard to skim through and see what was on the agenda. "Where's our light-man," you asked and looked up. Everyone shrugged looking around until a girl, Martha, spoke, "Lenny had a teacher meeting, he's running a bit late but he'll be here."

You nodded, "Martha that reminds me, how's your mom doing with the costumes? does she have everything she needs?" 

Martha nodded quickly, "Measurements and everything. All of them should be ready a few days before the big day and she'll be here that night for any mending that might be needed." She shot you two big thumbs up. 

"Good, good, good," you muttered under your breath. You looked around at everyone and shrugged lightly, "OK so I guess everyone just rehearse your lines, get to work and we should be good for the next couple of hours."

Chatter quickly spread across the large room as everyone got together working and talking. You sat down on a seat and let out a long sigh. You tugged your phone out of your pocket and looked for a new message from Peter. There was nothing. You sent two more and added a call for good measure. He didn't pick up, it just rang all the way through. Maybe he got caught up with a teacher. Or maybe he got detention and didn't get a chance to tell you. 

You had more important things to get to and Peter would get here whenever he got the chance. He'd promised after all. So you shouldn't worry about it too much. 

You started making rounds around all the groups of working teenagers, stopping when you saw Lexi waving you over to her little group which mostly consisted of the main cast. 

You walked over to them, "And how's everything going over here? Any trouble?" They all shook their heads. 

"Actually, I think we're getting along rather well, it's a great cast you've rounded up here miss Y/L/N," Mrs. Lightbody said, making you feel extremely proud. 

"I actually wanted to talk to you," Lexi said kindly. 

"Oh? What's up, Lex." She grabbed your hand and led you a little farther away from the group, turning and shooting them a quick reassuring smile. 

Lexi was the star of the whole play, playing the main character, so you'd worked with her closely these past few weeks. She helped you with even the slightest things so you wouldn't get too stressed or anxious (she claimed you were the only sane person in the whole group and it needed to stay that way). She was undoubtedly the most excited person about the whole play and you couldn't blame her, you could already tell from just practice that she was going to do amazing. She was on the popular side where school cliques were involved, but she was always such a sweetheart. She quickly became a great friend of yours and you hoped it stayed that way even after the play and all these fun little get-togethers were over. 

"Hey, Y/N I noticed you seemed a little off before. I'm sorry if I'm out of line saying this but I just wanted to check in on you and make sure everything was okay. Anything going on? I'm always here to listen if you need to talk," she smiled one of her heartwarming smiles. 

You were a little shocked that she'd noticed, "Thanks Lex, really, but I'm fine I promise. but thank you so much for looking out for me."

she had a look on her face like she didn't believe you but she didn't push it, which you appreciated, "ok well if you decide you want to talk about I'm always around I promise," she grabbed you into a hug which you gladly accepted. she pulled away and squeezed your shoulder before heading back to the group. 

You loved her but really there was nothing wrong. Because Peter was gonna show up. Even if he hadn't answered you yet. He's gonna show up, follow you like a lost puppy, and marvel at your every move in that way of his to the point where it got annoying, and you were gonna make him swear to never come to one of these again. To which he would pout and give you puppy-dog eyes and you'd both forget whatever it was you'd said. 

He had to come. otherwise, you might seriously start considering Ned's words from earlier. or you won't be her boyfriend for much longer. 

Peter had to show up because maybe your whole relationship was on the line. 

An hour of a bunch of nonsense arguing passed until you finally heard the press of the large auditorium doors opening up. 

Your heart flew when you saw the large mess of brunette curls turned to close the doors. however, your hope quickly deflated as soon as the figure turned around. it was just Lenny the light-man. 

"Lenny, great. I need you to start working on the lights and getting them ready," you told him. He nodded and quickly made his way backstage. 

You were totally bummed. peter hadn't even replied to you so you had no clue what was going on. you'd even gone so far as to text Ned who'd just sent you a shrugging emoji and an apology for not knowing where he was. 

You felt a little broken, with each passing minute, your hope that your boyfriend might still show up dying down. 

You were desperate so you walked down to the side of the stage where Lexi was chatting with her 'co-star' Brad Davis, who played her love interest. 

You walked up to them, your hand lightly grabbing Lexi's shoulder which brought her attention to you, "Can I talk to you," you whispered. She nodded quickly. You looked towards Brad whose attention was already on you, "Is it alright if I just steal her for a moment," you sent him a fake smile. He smiled back, "No don't worry about it, she's all yours."

He looked like he was might say something else but you didn't give him the chance to before dragging your friend away from all the commotion, "I'm ready to talk now."

She looked at you knowingly before sitting down and patting the spot next to her. So you sat and you told her everything. You told her about all the missed dates, how sometimes he'd just ignore you completely making it impossible to reach him and come back and act like nothing happened, how it always seemed like he was hiding something, and how you were so tired. 

And she listened, of course, never making you feel like you were being overdramatic, and making you feel something that Peter always failed to. Seen. 

When you finally finished Lexi looked at you with total sympathy-eyes, you hated it but you sucked it up because you had chosen to talk to her. 

"Permission to speak freely?" she asked hesitantly. You nodded quickly, "Yes of course, please do that's why I came to you in the first place." 

"Dump his ass," she deadpanned. Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at her. "Really?" you asked. She nodded, "Y/N, I love you but it's obvious that this boy doesn't. Because if he did there's no way he'd test you like that, I mean, he's standing you up right now when he promised he'd be here. I say end it before it gets worse. But hey," she held up both hands, "If you think I'm out of line saying that I totally understand but I'm just telling you what I'd do if I was in your shoes."

"You think I should dump him," you mumbled looking down, not really believing it. You'd thought about it sure, what would happen if you two weren't together anymore but you'd never considered it an option, let alone a solution. 

"Thanks, Lex, I'll think about it," you gave her a tight smile and she smiled back. "I just hope you do whatever feels best for you Y/N, you've been looking down lately and you don't deserve that." She gave your hand a squeeze and one last smile before she went back to practice. 

You weren't seriously thinking about ending things with Peter, you were too scared to lose him. Your friendship was more important than any relationship ever could be. But the longer he went as a no-show the more it ran through your brain for the rest of rehearsal. Peter never texted or called. You were desperate for a simple "sorry" at this point, not wanting to have to settle for the worst option. But as time went on, the less it seemed like an option and more like a task. Something you had to do, that had to be done—something new to check off your clipboard. 

Rehearsal ended and people left in groups as they had come. You lingered, smiling and saying you had just a few things to check up on before you left whenever someone took regard for your incessant hovering. Soon enough you were the only person in the big empty room. 

You sat at the edge of the stage, legs dangling, and pulled out your phone from your pocket. You sent one last text, we need to talk. 

After about ten minutes of waiting there, you decided it was getting late and you had to get home before it was too dark. maybe you could convince your parents to let you head over to Peter's after dinner and you could get over with it then. your mind was made up. you were gonna break up with him. 

You gathered your things and made your way up to the big double doors. The hallways were quiet and you were hyperaware of every step of yours. It was weird to see the school so dead, a big contrast to the usual packed hallways. The more you thought about it the more it was like you could almost hear the running footsteps of students. No scratch that, student. Okay at this point it started sounding too real.

You turned around to catch your boyfriend speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop when you saw you. 

"Oh my god Y/N, I'm so sorry I totally lost track of time. I was just helping May out with a few things and next thing I know-" 

You held up a hand to stop him, "Save it Peter I really don't care." 

His face fell, "But, hey, let me make it up to you! Let's go get some ice cream or something. You can tell me what rehearsal was like today and I'll walk you home after. It's getting dark."

You crossed your arms. you almost wanted to agree but you knew better than that, this whole thing was getting way too much for you to handle. 

"Peter I'm done," you told him simply. he looked at you a little confused, "done...done with what?"

"This," you almost screamed as you pointed at the two of you, "I'm done with this, this whole act because, let's face it, we both know you weren't helping May with shit." you were surprised you had gotten this far without crying and you wanted to keep it that way so you sucked in a breath and tried to steady your heartbeat. 

The guilty look in his eyes told you enough. you were right. he moved the slightest step closer but you moved back, you really didn't feel like touching him at the moment. "come on sweetheart," he said weakly, "there's gotta be something I can do. I promise I'll show up on time more, you'll never have to wait for me again. I'll be around you so much you'll get sick of me. just please don't do this."

"That's the thing, Peter," you groaned, "I don't want to be sick of you but I'm sick of the way you keep treating me. you make me feel like shit Peter. you're my boyfriend and you make me feel terrible. and I keep trying to help you out, coming up with different excuses each time but I've finally run out. I want a stable relationship and you can't give me that so I'm done." 

His eyes were red now and you had to push back the guilt you were feeling, he brought this upon himself. it's true, you wouldn't have done this unless it was absolutely necessary. you loved him but you just couldn't handle it anymore. 

"I can," his voice broke slightly on that last word, "I can give you that y/n just give me another chance to show you." 

You huffed, "Well Peter, part of a stable relationship is honesty. can you be honest and tell me where you were today? 'Cause it's been established that you weren't with May."

He froze a little and you continued, "In fact, why don't you tell me where you were when you missed all those dates, all those couple hangouts, and all those group hangouts? When you missed my parents' anniversary dinner that they invited you to, or my little brother's birthday party that he was really excited you'd be there for. Go ahead Pete," you flung out your arms, "tell me where you were and I'll believe you can give me a stable relationship."

He looked physically conflicted, as if he was genuinely having an inner battle with himself, "I- I can't y/n/n, but you have to believe me when I say it's for the best."

"And I can't Peter. I can't so just forget this," you cleared your throat, "Come back when you can actually handle a relationship Parker, or you know what, don't because either way, I'm through with this."

You turned to walk away. his hand reached out to grab your wrist but you dodged it and held your hand up, "I don't think we should talk anymore," you kept walking and he didn't follow. You didn't want him to. But in all honesty, it was hard to turn your back when the person you were leaving was always the one you ran to when your heart shattered as it did right then. 

the cold air hit you hard and the tears finally came, slightly smudging the concealer under your eyes but you couldn't care less at the moment. 

It was true what he'd said, it was dark already and windy so you tried to be alert on your way home, deciding you could process all your emotions when you're home safe. 

You were walking for a bit, wiping your tears and trying to keep your vision clear when you heard a slight thud next to you and footsteps matching up to catch yours. "Hello Miss, it's pretty dark, can I walk you home?"

part 2 is here !!

#peter parker #avengers #Peter Parker fluff #Peter Parker x yn #peter x you #peter parker x you #peter x y/n #marvel #mcu #the avengers #avengers x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #fandom #peter parker writing #tom holland #tom holland!peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #mcu!peter parker #mcu!spiderman x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #angst #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #mcu!peter x reader

[aviduringgremlinhours]

My Muse

~content warning: slightly nsfw~

Mizu x artist!reader

Authors note: I am not a writer so I apologize for any mistakes! Enjoy!

"Somethings' off...I can feel it..." you say as you squint at the canvas before you. Wether its the shape of the head or the length of the torso, you could TELL something was off. "Two years of art school and yet I still can't seem to get body proportions right. Ugh, maybe I should just find a different career path-"

You hear a knock on the studio door "Y/N? You in there? I made us some tea, can I come in?" you hear the voice of your partner, Mizu, behind the door. "Oh! Yes! Come in!" You exclaim. Upon your approval she comes in with two cups of tea and sets them both at the break table nearby. Deciding to take a break, you get up from the frustrating sketch before you to spend some much needed time with Mizu.

"Hows the art going? What are you working on?" She asks curiously. Mizu has always loved your art, and though she was a woman of few words, you could feel her admiration and respect coming off of her as she gazed fondly at the paintings made by your hand.

"I feel like if I try to fix it any longer I'm going to jump off a bridge" you sigh, half joking at this point. "Ouch, that bad?" She raises an eyebrow as her eyes scan the canvas. "It looks a little off but its not bad. Perhaps you should do some model studies. Who knows, maybe seeing the body up close will help you figure out what you're missing."  The idea sounds good in theory, but theres a problem with it "Where would I find someone willing to strip down and let me stare at them for hours while I draw them? I don't really have the cash to pay someone for it." You ask her earnestly.

"Well..." she contemplated "I could be your model, if you want." Your eyes widen at the thought, it makes sense, and its not like you haven't seen her naked before, but you feel a blush crawling up your cheeks regardless. "A-are you sure you're comfortable with that?" "Absolutely sure, I'm comfortable with it if you are. We can start after we finish the tea" She says, her ice blue eyes seemingly brightening up with excitement.

A brief moment later, and Mizu stands before you, a robe being the only thing covering her up. "I'm ready. Where should I stand?" She asks you. "Oh, just go sit on the lounge right here, I want to try capturing you in a leasurely pose." You say. "Just lay back with your back proped up on the arm of the lounge, have one knee bent, and your arm resting on the bent knee. Look off to the side as well." she nods and gets into position as you ready your pencil. "Ready?" You ask, "Ready."

You begin sketching out her figure, glancing over at her every now and then for reference. Every curve, every scar, every fold of her body carefully replicated onto your canvas. From her slender yet defined arms to her lean torso and model-eque long legs. "She's so beautiful..." you think to yourself. You sketch more. Her breasts, her gorgeously long dark brown hair, her breathtaking blue eyes-

You notice her glancing at you, flinching away your daydream as you hastily hide your burning red face behind the canvas. You hear a soft chuckle emit from her as she looks away, a warm smile fixed to her face and a light blush forming. The silence in the air that followed was not a suffocating one, but one that carried a sense of quiet intimacy between two lovers. Warm, soft, and inviting. You feel yourself beginning to relax as you continue to sketch the beautiful woman in front of you.

You finish your sketch up and exhale deeply "Its done! It came out so well! Would you like to see?" You ask her excitedly as she rises from the lounge and reaches for her robe. "Hell yeah I would." She replied. As she scanned over the canvas, her eyes widened with awe. "Its...amazing love, is this how you see me?" She asked "Of course!" You tell her "You're the most beautiful and amazing partner in the whole world, you could say you're my muse..." she looks away bashfully, a shy but happy hum coming out as a response. You gently turn her head to face you a plant a loving, soft kiss on her lips, one which she reciprocates in kind. "Thank you Mizu, you've been a great help. I love you." She beams at those 2 magic words "I love you too, Y/N"

#mizu #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu bes #blue eye samurai netflix #mizu x reader #mizu x you

[xxmaddyxx]

Poking your Stomach Rolls for Funzies pt 3

technically supposed to be doing hw rn but whatever masterlist

Suna

first up, pretty boy rin

soooo

you were doing your hw at his house (it was supposed to be a study date but he had already finished)

he was laying beside you while you were typing on the computer

the poor baby just wanted some attention, but he being the MaNlY mAn he is refused to show it

he occasionally poked your thigh but you just poked him back and when back to typing

his head ended up on your thigh eventually

"Rin, I can't write this paper with your big ass head right there."

"Then don't write it."

ignoring him, you worked around his 'big ass head'

he shifted his face closer to your exposed stomach (not like a lot just a lil part)

he kept headbutting your stomach

again you ignored it until he just decided to wind up his head and hit your right in the gut

"Jesus! Suna, that hurt!" You lightly smacked him on the forehead

"Please get off the computer!"

"No!"

"When's this paper due?"

"Next week"

he looked at you like you were a complete idiot and closed your computer

"Hey-" he grabbed you and put you on his chest

"Sh"

"But-"

"SHH"

you gave in as he ran his fingers through your hair

"Is my head really that big?" he whispered

"Gargantuan, Rin."

Tsukishima

next up, TSUKI POO

tbh, this man is obsessed with you, he just doesn't rlly show it

BUT he loves some cuddles

i swear that is the softest side you will see of him

but antyways

he was laying on your chest one day and he thought you were asleep

he began to draw lil shapes on your tummy with his fingers (oml my heart)

you did feel it bcs you were awake

you accidentally let out a small breathy laugh, and he stopped

you opened one eye, "why'd you stop?" you brushed through his hair with your fingers

"i thought you were asleep." with his face so close to yours, you could feel him blushing

"oh my gosh, Tsuki are you BLUSHING?"

"NO!" he buried his head in your neck

"AH you are!!!"

he got up and sat at the edge of the bed, "you're done. you're done."

"no! come back! i won't make fun of you, i promise." you dramatically stuck out your bottom lip

"fine, but stop you look wierd."

"ouch" he crawled back onto you and continued drawing shapes on your stomach

#haikyū!! #haikyu #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #suna rintaro fluff #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader #suna fluff #suna x reader fluff #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima x reader fluff #tsukishima haikyuu #tsukishima hcs

[in-the-shadow-of-the-blog]

Caught in the Rain (Leander Edition)

Summary: Taking shelter from the rain becomes more intimate than Leander and MC were expecting. (Leander Prewett x f!MC)

Rating: PG

Warnings: Kissing in public

Word count: 1.1k

—

Dark gray clouds gathered over the village, drawing Leander’s ire-filled gaze. “Are you sure you don’t want to head back to Hogwarts?”

“I just need to make one last stop at Spintwitches and then we can go.” MC nudged his shoulder with his own - well, as near as their height different would allow. “Come on, Leander, this was supposed to be fun. You’ve seemed a little preoccupied.”

“It was fun when the sun was out,” Leander grumbled. A look at her disappointed face pulled a sigh from him. “I guess I just have something on my mind. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” MC asked, staying in step with him as they continued through the village.

Leander glanced at the people milling about the lanes nearby. “This isn’t really the place. Maybe when we’re somewhere a little more private.”

She gave him a look. What, exactly, was the conversation he had in mind? She thought about pressing him, but a rumble of thunder shook the air. Their eyes turned toward the sky, and a raindrop landed right in MC’s eye.

“Ouch!” She blinked away the stinging intrusion as the rain began in earnest.

Leander took her wrist, pulling her down the way among the crowd of people searching for refuge from the downpour. The rain fell hard and fast, and they were already getting soaked. “I know just the place.” MC felt herself pulled through a pair of double doors before she could respond.

They were greeted by a cacophony of sound and a press of bodies filling the space in front of them. “I guess I’m not the only one who thought the Three Broomsticks was a good place for waiting out the rain,” Leander mused as they jostled through the crowd.

MC grabbed his wrist, his skin heating at her touch. “Come on, I have an idea.”

She tugged him around the bar to the wooden steps leading up to the second level. The tables were full, but there was room for them to stand by the balustrade. MC sighed. “It’s a little quieter up here.”

Leander suppressed a shiver. “I just wish the fire wasn’t so bloody far away.”

The way her damp clothes hung on her frame was getting on MC’s nerves as well. If only they’d been able to grab a butterbeer to warm them up. Maybe some conversation would take their mind off it.“Wasn’t there something you wanted to speak to me about?”

“I…” Leander shook his head. “Never mind. It can wait.”

“Oh.” Disappointment was thick in MC’s voice. Leander had looked somewhat serious when he said he wanted to talk. She looked forward to those moments when Leander was open with her, shedding the veneer he wore in front of others. They were few, occurring in the rare moments they were alone together.

“I must look a mess,” said Leander, trying to bring order to his sopping hair.

“No more than I do,” smiled MC, shaking rain from her clothes.

“You’re perfect.” Leander thought his face might have become the shade as his hair. “I mean, you’re not a mess at all.”

“Neither are you. Well…” MC trailed off. She noticed he had done a rather poor job of taming his hair without a mirror. “May I?” she asked, reaching for his messy locks.

“Of course,” said Leander, the pink flush to his cheeks barely noticeable in the dim light.

Brushing her fingers through Leander’s silky strands, MC smoothed his hair back into place. She smiled, satisfied at the results, despite the lingering dampness of the rain. “That’s better.”

The stopped for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. “MC…” Leander wasn’t able to finish his sentence. He was interrupted by MC ungraciously bumping into him, caused by someone else bumping into her from behind. Some unknown drink slopped onto the floor, splashing onto her shoes.

The man who had bumped into her could only be a few years older than they were, and in different circumstances he might have been handsome. That illusion was quickly dispelled when he opened his mouth. “‘Ello, sweetheart,” he slurred, leering at MC. “Mind how you go.”

MC drew back from the man, and his rather unpleasant smell. “You’re the one who bumped into me,” MC retorted.

He ignored her. “Fancy some company, pretty thing?”

MC bristled. “Excuse you?”

Leander took a step forward, putting himself between MC and the stranger. “Step off, mate.”

The stranger looked him over and scoffed. “Or what?”

Flipping his wand into his hand, Leander drew himself up to his full height. Though a little lanky, he was taller than the smarmy man in front of him, and he could look menacing when he wanted to. “I don’t want any trouble.”

They were attracting the attention of nearby patrons, a few concerned whispers ripping through the crowded room. The stranger raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back. “No need for that, young man,” he said, glancing at the unwanted attention now aimed at him. “I’ll be on my way.”

Leander remained in front of MC, glaring the man down until he was out of sight. MC knew she could handle herself, probably better than Leander could, but there was something unsettling about the man. She was glad she had someone in her corner, so to speak. Besides, it was rather cute seeing Leander so protective.

MC laid a hand on his arms, and Leander’s attention swiveled back to her. “Thank you, Leander. That was quite chivalrous of you; Gryffindor would be proud.”

“MC…” Leander began again, trailing off he searched for the words he needed.

He didn’t find them. Instead, he leaned down, gently pressing his lips to hers. He pulled back, searching her eyes for an answer to what he had just done.

MC trailed her fingers along his jaw, smiling up at him. “I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time.”

He struggled to school his surprised expression. “You have?”

MC nodded. “Mmhm.” She pulled him closer, meeting him in another kiss.

The heat between them might have been enough to dry their clothes. Leander’s hand splayed across the small of her back, holding her close, while MC gripped his shoulders. His mouth was warm against hers, and she melted into him. MC heard the patter of rain against the stained glass behind her, but Leander’s presence filled the rest of her senses.

They broke apart, catching their breath. Leander looked dazed, but a little pleased with himself. MC raised an eyebrow. “Leander, is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve always found that actions speak louder than words, anyway.”

—

Masterlist

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #leander prewett #leander prewett x mc

[mermaidsirennikita]

Any reca where after the first time the mcs have sex, either of them are like “eh I dunno that was mid” so the other one is determined to fix that?

I’ve seen it happen once.

Well, I will say that I just finished The Mistress Experience by Scarlett Peckham, coming out 6/25. It's SO SO GOOD, can't recommend it enough, and it focuses on a sexually inexperienced (not virginal) hero who hires the heroine, a famous courtesan, to teach him how to be good in bed for when he gets married. Obviously, their first couple of encounters aren't GREAT and there's some really interesting stuff done regarding experience and stuff. SO GOOD.

Dark Needs at Night's Edge by Kresley Cole has the virginal Conrad Wroth get with Neomi, a former burlesque dancer who's super experienced. I don't even think he makes it inside her the first time lol and he's very UGH OH NO I SUCK and she's like petting his head very understanding all "don't worry bb you'll figure it out". It's actually quite cute.

Actually, in Kiss of a Demon King by Kresley Cole when Rydstrom takes Sabine's (technical) virginity she REALLY doesn't like it. She's not like... traumatized? But he's very caught up and she's like telling her sister "well, NEVER doing THAT again". (She does that again.) Rydstrom is an AAAAALPHA so he's like "well I am in fact going to make her come five billion times".

A Rose at Midnight by Anne Stuart (which is, to be clear, a dark historical romance with dubcon between the leads at first) has a variation of this. She's pretending to not be into it but she is (though she doesn't come the first time because she's trying to enjoy it and is angry that she's enjoying it) and he's like... devastated by the fact that he came REAL FAST (after telling her he wouldn't lmao) and she didn't and SHE HAS THE UPPER HAND!!!! They're both kinda morons in love I love them. He is determined to get that upper hand lol.

In Nobody's Baby But Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips, they have very mid sex twice (where he's actively like "I don't even know why??? I want to have sex with you so badly???") but after she gets pregnant, very much by her design, and he forces her to marry him (lmao) he does eventually resolve to fuck her good.

His at Night by Sherry Thomas has a very sort of like... quick and ouch first time, and there's a lot of resentment between them, but he does make it up to her for sure after being like "yeah I flubbed that".

Bass-Ackwards by Eris Adderly has a very WEIRD kinda coercive first time wherein the heroine gets fucked over her boss's desk in exchange for some PTO (and he's like in the moment all "can I fuck your ass" and she's like "I guess???" which was a choice) and then later he actually tries to give her good sex lol.

Act Your Age by Eve Dangerfield has a variation on this wherein the hero and heroine have great sex throughout the book, BUT one of several elephants in the room is that he won't go down on her, and I thought that was dealt with in a really interesting way.

Run, Posy, Run by Cate C. Wells has a hero and heroine in a relationship at the beginning of the book that's really disconnected, and he honestly doesn't care to really give her good sex and she doesn't really know to expect it... And then he's tricked into thinking she's cheated, she goes on the run because he's a mafioso, he realizes he was tricked and chases after her, and realizes he needs to go back to the drawing room sexually as part of his efforts to get her back. And boy does he.

The Chief by Monica McCarty has the hero and heroine have sex in a situation where he didn't actually know it was her lol, and she was a virgin so it was a big surprise ouch deal, and then he couldn't even finish... So after they're subsequently forced to marry, he kinda has to fix it lol.

Tempt Me at Twilight by Lisa Kleypas has the infamous scene where Harry withdraws because he thinks he's causing Poppy agony (he's not it just hurt a bit and he freaked out and stopped and was all I'M A MONSTERRRR) and he basically ghosts and Poppy has to be like "YOU GET BACK HERE AND FUCK ME GOOD".

#romance novel blogging #book recs

[melis-writes]

Hi how are you? Could you do what it would be like if Michael and Victoria went to sleep fighting and the next day everyone realizes that they are fighting.

Hiii, my beloved!! 💗 Sorry it took me a little while to reach your prompt but here I am, promising more of Michael and Victoria hehe. 😅 This kind of reminds me of the prompt where these two argued and Michael called her “useless”. Ouch… Feels like a good place to pick up on in terms of drama!! 💀💀

“That brother of yours is even more pathetic than I thought.” Michael pours himself a tall glass of water. “Does he think you’re his messenger?”

“Does it really matter?” You frown, crossing your arms and facing Michael’s back. “I mean, he said—”

“I don’t care what he said.” Michael interrupts, swallowing his diabetes medication down with the cold water. “His decisions, his thoughts, let alone his opinion do not concern me nor do they have any meaning here. I’ll speak to the Don and the Don alone if I have any concerns.”

“Well, that’s not going to do us any good.” You sigh softly, shaking your head. “You know how my father is. If he wants Lorenzo to act on—”

“Us?” Michael turns around, setting his water down. “There is no us, Victoria. This will never concern you.”

“I didn’t say it did.” You peep back, growing frustrated. “I just wish you would stop being so difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult or any such thing—don’t roll your eyes at me, Victoria.” Michael narrows his eyes at you.

“Then just listen to me, please,” you sigh loudly, only to see frustrated growing in Michael’s expression. “All I’m trying to say is—”

“Enough.” Michael says sharply, loosening his tie. “You obey the Don of this house, do you understand? No more—nothing of Lorenzo, nothing of your father’s decision unless he wants to come here and speak to me personally. You will not get involved even if your father tells you to, is that perfectly clear? Because you are—”

“Useless?” You finish Michael’s sentence as your eyes begin to tear up. “Because I’m useless, right? Just like you said before?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Michael stares back at you, unamused.

“There’s no other way to tell someone that they’re useless, Michael.” You sniffle, unable to hold your tears back. “So fine, have it your way! See if I care. I’m not on anybody’s side here but yours, and if you don’t want to see that then I pity you!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.” Michael snaps back. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more of this.”

“You won’t, trust me!” Tears begin to stream down your cheeks as you storm out of the living room, shutting the door behind you immediately.

What started out as a calm, relaxed evening as you and Michael enjoyed dinner with family and friends may as well mean nothing to you now as your entire evening now at an end feels ruined regardless.

You let out a shaky breath, just wishing Michael would listen to you more—be more transparent with you like himself always promises to but again and again it spirals into an argument like this.

‘Why do I even bother?’ You grumble to yourself, pushing the door open to your bedroom.

Bitterness and frustration from Michael shutting you down before you can even explain anything to him thoroughly kicks in the moment you spot your empty bed, and you decide not to waste a moment more of the rest of your night and certainly not going back and forth to argue with Michael.

Sighing quietly to yourself, you shut the bedroom door behind you before popping into the bathroom and splashing some cold water over your face to wash off your tears.

Hearing nobody else approach the bedroom and not expecting Michael to either as you have no anticipation or hopes whatsoever that he’ll come in here to talk to you or apologize, you strip off and hang up your dress for the day.

Pulling on your nightgown and putting your hair up in a loose bun, you draw the curtains back over the windows and get snuggled up into bed alone.

You don’t even bother to look over at the empty side that belongs to Michael, but rather sleep on your side facing away from where Michael would be.

Your exhaustion from today is much more prominent than your frustration or anything else, and you find yourself simply wanting to drift into deep, relaxing sleep more than anything else now.

You pull up your duvet over your shoulders and squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to relax as only the ticking sound of the grandfather clock in the bedroom can be heard.

Michael remains in the living room for the next hour, going over paperwork while smoking before even considering retiring to bed for the day.

He’s neither bothered to even look back behind you as you left abdruptly nor is he in any rush to get back into the bedroom where he assumes you’re keeping yourself occupied or perhaps in the nursery with the children.

Once the clock strikes 1AM, Michael begins to unbutton down his dress shirt as he walks up the spiral staircase towards your bedroom.

Already snuggled up and cozy, you’re fast asleep and don’t hear Michael’s footsteps approaching the bedroom or when he walks in.

Michael slips off his tie, setting it down on your vanity chair as he gazes at you peacefully sleeping.

He purses his lips, sighing a little before he continues to get undressed for bed—hoping maybe you’ll at least stir from your sleep and notice him but you don’t.

Michael gets into bed next to you, shifting comfortably and pulling the duvet over him. He glances at you in the darkness, only able to hear your soft breathing as you continue sleeping.

Still upset with you in his own way after the argument, Michael doesn’t bother to fan the flames now either. Instead, he turns on his opposite side too facing away from you to sleep.

In the morning you’re neither woken by Michael awakening or the sounds of him in the bathroom or bedroom, but your alarm at 7AM sharp.

You blink open your eyes, smacking the top of your alarm clock before sitting up in bed only to see the bed made perfectly neat next to you as if Michael never came to sleep at all last night.

You neither bother to call out for Michael or ask where he is, instead rising out of bed and putting your slippers on before walking to the bathroom; no sign of him in there either but the sink still has droplets of water in it.

Michael woke up an hour before you, taking an early morning walk with Tom and his dogs by the dock and he was especially sure not to wake you nor could he be bothered to care either.

Humming quietly to yourself, you push back any thoughts and feelings of last night’s fight and continue with your morning routine that consists of brushing and styling your hair before picking a light, lacy blouse and a pencil skirt for the day.

By 7:30, you and Michael are both down at the central family estate for breakfast as you’ve both always done, sharing all of your meals together with the whole family every weekend.

“Good morning, mama.” You smile, kissing Carmela’s cheek lightly. “Good morning, everyone.”

“Good morning, Victoria.” Carmela beams back at you, preparing breakfast next to Connie.

“Morning.” Connie turns back to greet you, holding a tray filled with an assortment of jams. “Here just on time and all glamoured up this morning, huh?”

“I wouldn’t call it that.” You laugh softly, “was everyone up before me this morning, or?”

“Just Michael.” Connie comments back before she furrows her brows in confusion. “Why? Wasn’t he—”

“I’ll take that, mama. Thanks.” You take the basket of bread from Mama Corleone’s hands along with the pitcher of lemonade before ignoring Connie’s curious comment and stepping back outside.

“He’s a very quick learner, I know.” Tom chuckles, in mid-conversation with Michael as only he, Michael and Sonny are sitting at the breakfast table in the courtyard. “Hey, good morning, Victoria.”

“Hi, Tom, Sonny. Good morning.” You smile back at both your brothers, ignoring Michael outright.

“Good morning.” Michael speaks out to you, being the only one at the table and perhaps out of his entire family that can read the irritation and annoyance off your body language even if your facial expression doesn’t give it away.

“Tea and lemonade this morning,” you note, ignoring Michael and setting the pitcher down. “You gentlemen need anything?”

“Thanks, Vic.” Sonny pulls the pitcher of lemonade up to him. “Could ya get me an ashtray too while you’re at it?”

“Sure. Tom?” You glance back at your brother, smoothening out the tablecloth.

“Ah, just a glass of water please, Vic. Thanks.” Tom requests with a polite smile.

“Make that two ashtrays.” Michael speaks up, pulling out his cigarette pack from his inner suit pocket.

Ignoring Michael again, you return back into the kitchen just as Mama Corleone steps out with teacups and a hot teapot steaming with black tea.

You pick up a glass from the cupboard, filling it with cold water and only taking one ashtray on purpose when you notice Connie’s curious eyes over you as she cuts small pieces of cheese on a platter.

“Everything alright, honey?” Connie asks, removing the packaging off a chunk of blue cheese.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” You look back at her, clutching both the water and ashtray in your hand.

“Just checking up on my sis.” Connie grins, “everything ready out there?”

“Just about.” You nod back, heading out the door. “Don’t take too long!”

“There we go.” Mama Corleone sighs in relief, pouring everyone a glass of tea.

“Grazie.” Michael thanks her in Italian, pulling his cup closer to him as you sit opposite of Michael instead of next to him this time.

Tom thanks you for the water but Michael’s eyes are all over the single ashtray in your hand, watching as you hand it to Sonny. “There you go.”

“Thanks, honey.” Sonny puts a new cigarette inbetween his lips as you set the ashtray directly in front of him.

Connie’s curious eyes dart back and forth between Michael and Sonny, and even Mama Corleone’s beginning to pick up on the strange behaviour between you and Michael, let alone the displeased look on her son’s face.

You clear your throat quietly, taking your seat next to Connie and beginning to eat your breakfast, but the air between you and Michael is felt by just about everyone in the next few minutes.

“Hey,” Sonny murmurs, noticing there isn’t a second ashtray for Michael as he heard him request. “Yeah, you can use mine, here.”

“No, it’s fine.” Michael pushes back Sonny’s ashtray, refusing it.

You ignore both of them, biting down on your omelette as Michael continues staring at you while he eats, waiting for you to notice the look on his face.

“Well, the children are all with the governess this morning and your father will be joining—” Mama Corleone interrupts herself, feeling Connie lightly nudge her.

For a split second, Connie and Mama Corleone exchange glances before Mama Corleone looks over at you and Michael.

Tom chuckles quietly to himself, already having picked up on  just what’s going on between you and Michael. “As you were saying, mama?”

“I’m saying that I think these two are fighting.” Mama Corleone laughs softly, trying to make light of the whole affair. “Michael? Victoria?”

“I’m fine, mama.” You comment back with a smile. “I’m doing just fine.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Michael asks you.

“I am looking at you.” You face Michael directly. “Darling.”

“Hey, Mike,” Sonny holds back his laughter, elbowing his brother gently. “C’mon, don’t be so—”

“Santino.” Mama Corleone raises her voice, looking very disappointed with her eldest son. “Non farti coinvolgere. Questo non ti riguarda.” (Don't get involved. This doesn't concern you.)

Amused by Sonny’s antics, Connie smiles down at her plate as breakfast resumes as normal, except it’s all the more quiet and lacking conversation solely because of you and Michael.

You reach your hand across the table to grab the salt shaker only to touch Michael’s fingers. Your eyes widen a little as you notice he doesn’t pull his hand away but at the same time Michael doesn’t take the salt shaker for himself either.

“I love you,” Michael mouths back to you.

You blush deeply, noticing Michael pushing the salt shaker towards you.

#godfather au #prompts #michael corleone #michael corleone x reader #michael corleone fanfic #moth to flame fic #moth to flame fanfic #michael corleone x oc #godfather x reader #not canon

[asmoteeth]

¡Hey Asmo! How are you doing? I hope that you have been fine (idk from which part of Argentina are you (and it's not my business to know), but I hope that you are not suffering the heatwave as much as I'm XD)....

That last wedge fanart was simply sooo good Asmo...the look of shock, but also betrayal/slash anger, was spot on *chef kiss* idk about you, but with all the fluff present, some angst too would do really nicely (this is so perfect)

My personal hc: even as an established couple, HS still feels awful for his attitude towards Wedge when he found out he was an ex-con; it's really obvious when he's in that state, because he looks like a kicked puppy and exudes misery when around Wedge. How do you think he would fix this? Mandatory cuddle time? Wedge will turn HS into a burrito when he refuses to cuddle? Kinda like this?:

*I bet he also does it when HS tries to do something stupid or when he's sleepy but doesn't want to recharge* Bonus: if you are into completing ship charts, would you be interested in doing this one? Only if you wanna ofc... You can ignore the horny level part, though (cause I know your opinion on that matter)

Anyway, ¡sending you good wishes Asmo!

THE FIRST LINES WERE A WHISPLASH DO YOU MEAN LIKE-- YOU LIVE IN ARGENTINA TOO????? THAT'S SO COOL IF THAT'S THE CASE JSNWKABSIWKWBEIQJQ WHUAAAA The heatwaves have been painful, my clasroom is a forsaken OVEN and I almost threw up from the heat today, thank you for asking (´-﹏-`；)

THANK YOU SO MUCH <333 Honestly the expression was the first thing I drew in the whole piece, I just had an idea of anger+shock+fear+sadness and had to put it down to drawing QUICKLY and then I kept going, I didn't even expect to finish it today, I'm very proud of the lighting and blurry parts doing their job at giving the drawing profundity.

I DEFINITELY FEEL LIKE HOTSHOT COULD GET THOSE GUILT TRIPPING MOMENTS, even if he changed his whole view on deceptions he was probably raised with AS SOON AS HE DISCOVERED WEDGE WAS ONE I feel the things he said ("decepticons don't count as anyone" for example, ouch) might crawl on his back from time to time, what if he needs to overcompensate for that night?

What if he makes a day FULL of silly activities Wedge enjoys? Idk, weight lifting? THEIR DUO DRAG RACE STUNT, etc.

But Hotshot keeps getting guilt trips and it shows so at some point Wedge shakes him by the shoulders like WHAT'S WRONG WHY AREN'T U HAVING FUN

Hotshot is cornered and has no other way than to explain what's bothering him, Wedge is a little mad, but over the fact that he didn't tell him in the first place, specially when it was related to him and the fact that it was eating him from the inside this much.

They decide this day should be more soft, so they just head back inside, SOMEHOW GET A BLANKET LONG ENOUGH FOR THEM (sewing???) And YES, THEY CUDDLE YOU ARE SO RIGHT (tho honestly for me their "cuddling" is napping sprawled on the conversation pit, Hotshot is def a spider hugger when sleeping I accept 0 criticism)

I'M SO SO INTO COMPLETING CHARTS, I LOVE COMPLETING CHARTS, FEEL ABSOLUTELY FREE TO SEND ME MORE PLEASE PLEASE <3333

I love the slider thingie so much omg

THANKS FOR SUCH A BIG ASK SINCE I BEEN FEELING KINDA DOWN THESE DAYS

#asmo.txt #asmo asks #wedgeshot asks

[gyoobies]

Creative Block

Pairing: Jungwoo x Fem Reader (mentions of Doyoung)

Genre: Smut, established poly relationship

Warnings: Minors DNI, Unprotected sex, cum swallowing, oral sex (giving & receiving)  

Summary: You’re having a major creative block, the last thing you need with a deadline so close, lucky for you your boyfriend has a plan.

Takes place after “The Way The Universe Works” 

https://gyoobies.tumblr.com/post/683025340230205440/the-way-the-universe-works

As much as you loved your quaint studio, you couldn't deny you missed all the extra  space you had when you were covering  the old woman's studio. You knew quite some time ago that you'd probably need a bigger space soon, and with the size of this new canvas taking up most of your work space, that need was even more evident now.  Lack of ample work space coupled with a massive creative block were contributing factors to your frustrated current state, add in the deadline for this massive painting that was fast approaching and you were 2 seconds away from losing it. The universe obviously heard your distress because one of your lovely boyfriends showed up to surprise you with lunch.

Entering your studio, food in 1 hand phone in the other, Jungwoo's voice filled your workspace.

"Hello Jagiiiiiii your favorite boyfriend is here!" He said in a sing-song manner as he approached you. Immediately you were reaching for his phone to face the screen towards you.

" Hi Doey, how is your day?"

"WOW! How did you know he was even on my phone?"

"Because the only time you say anything like that is to annoy him."

Jungwoo began to unpack lunch as you chatted briefly with Doyoung about your frustrating situation. He was always a source of comfort and grounding for you, so it was natural that you looked to him to refocus you. After saying your goodbyes to Doyoung you joined Jungwoo on the floor in the corner of your studio.

"Here my sweetie, let me stuff you full of delicious things to get rid of your frustration."

"Well, I guess we could eat after." You said  while laughing at his puzzled face, only laughing harder when the expression of realization washed over him.

"I- that is not what I meant. Well, not this time anyway."

Taking your place beside Jungwoo, you rested your head on his shoulder and watched him prepare one of his 'perfect bites' for you.

"You know, you don't have to put everything in 1 lettuce wrap. My mouth isn't that big."

"I've seen you stretch it pretty wide when necessary." He said as he brought it to your mouth.

"Ouch! Did you just bite me?!"

"That's for being a smart ass." 

"I'll let it slide this time, only because it sounds like you're having a rough day. 

"I am, I have just over a week to finish this commission and all I have is the base drawing, but I’m having trouble with what I want to paint over it."

Jungwoo stared at the large drawing across the room, " What's the concept behind it? All I'm getting is a woman moaning?"

"Yes! That's exactly what it is. It's supposed to be suggestive and provocative. The client has a matchmaking service and he wants to put this in the lobby."

Deep into explaining the vision for the piece, you stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of the giant canvas panel. 

"I wanted to do only the lower half of the face in a solid black outline and I would then paint with different opaque colors and washes, layering them in spots to convey the throws of ecstasy." 

Now standing behind you staring at the painting just as intensely, Jungwoo wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Wow, that sounds amazingly hot, so what's the problem?"

"I'm having trouble figuring out how to really execute that last part." You sighed.

Consumed with frustration and staring so hard at that damn painting, you didn't notice Jungwoo's amused and mischievous smile as he watched you. Slowly you began to feel his soft lips on your neck, making their way up to your ear.

"Do you know how sexy you are when you're so into your work?

 "Hmmmm, no but I'm  sure you'll tell me." You said as you turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

"I'll do a lot more than tell you."

A shiver ran through your body as he began to slowly remove your clothes. With your eyes closed you focused on nothing but the feeling of his hands undoing the buttons of your  shirt, then your pants. Once he'd stripped you to your underwear you could hear him undressing himself.

"Not going to watch me undress today?"

"No, I just want to listen, it's relaxing."

Well, it was relaxing until you heard the  sound of the canvas panel hit the floor, making you snap your eyes open in a panic. 

 " omg Jungwoo what are you doing?!"

"Calm down, just trust me. You told Doyoung you were thinking about starting over anyway."

"Thinking and doing are 2 very different things Jungwoo. "

"I know, but maybe that's the problem. Sometimes you should just do and not think so much."

He leaned in to kiss you and as much as you wanted to protest, you couldn't. He had that effect on you sometimes, ok maybe most of the time actually, you'd just give in and let his spontaneous personality take over.

"OK, but if this is a horrible idea you're going to spend every night up late with me until it's done."

" If that's a punishment sign me up!" He said as he reached around to unclasp your bra, next he reached down to remove your panties. Completely naked, you let Jungwoo guide you to the center of the canvas; uncertain of what he was actually intending to do, until you felt the cold of a paint covered brush grace your backside. 

"What better way to portray the emotions of sex, than with actual sex?"

He kind of had a point, honestly even if he didn't you were far too intrigued to stop him now. Jungwoo strategically painted different colors on specific parts of your body. He couldn't resist kissing you as he lightly swirled the paint covered tip of the brush over, and around your nipples as he covered your breast. You watched in much anticipation as he began to trail the different colors across his own body. Once he was satisfied he gently pushed at your shoulder to urge you to lay down. The moment your painted back made contact with the canvas he parted your legs to settle between them. Hands tucked under your ass firmly gripping the flesh as he dove into your pussy with his tongue. You moved your hand to lace your fingers through his hair but you were stopped when he pinned your hand back down onto the canvas.

"No baby, the paint is for the canvas not my hair." He said just before sucking harshly on your clit and burying his face completely in your heat, It didn’t take long for him to effectively send you into a dizzying spiral of an orgasm.  

"That's it, come for me." He cooed against your pussy. It was the cool paint tipped brush that helped you out of your bliss filled haze. Your eyes slowly focused in on Jungwoo as he added more paint to your body, specifically your knees, calves, balls of your feet, and toes. Once he was done adding more paint to the desired areas of your body he did the same to his, specifically his feet. You soon learned why when he stood up and pulled you to your knees making sure to move to a new space on the canvas. 

Tilting your chin so he could look into your eyes, as he rubbed the tip of his dick across your lips. You gave a small squeeze to his thigh to let him know you were getting impatient. Taking the hint he pushed gently against your lips, and you eagerly welcomed him into your mouth.  Jungwoo let you have your fun in the beginning, letting you slowly bob your head up and down his length, teasing his tip with your tongue. 

"I could look at you like this all day." He said while looking deep into your eyes. "But if I let you go on like this, we'll never finish the painting.”

 You opened your mouth wider to allow him to thrust himself deep into your throat. The room was filled with the sounds of his moans mixed with the wet sounds of him fucking your face. 

 "I love how you can just take me down your throat like this." He panted. "Mmmm Shit! I'm gonna cum, you ready for me?" 

You gave his thigh another squeeze to let him know you were ready. With just a few more thrusts he came in your mouth. You tilted your head back slightly with your mouth open so he could see your cum covered tongue before you swallowed. He moaned at the sight before him, and pulled you to your feet so he could kiss you.

Lost in kissing him you almost didn't notice the cool paint hit your skin again, but this time it was his paint covered hands. You practically melted at how gentle his touch was as he took your hand and placed it into the paint as a silent request for you to paint him as well. You trailed your fingers across his shoulder blades letting the paint drip from your fingertips down his back. In this moment time seemed to stop, and you could only think of how badly you wanted, no, how badly you needed him. You pulled him into the most desperate kiss you'd probably ever given anyone in your life, and he kissed you back with just as much desperation as you both sunk to the canvas covered floor once again. 

Face down, ass up, as Jungwoo thrusted into you with so much force  you were sure anyone walking through the hall could hear the impact of your ass against his pelvis. The sound of skin on skin, his near animalistic growls, your moans, whimpers, heavy breathing, the slick and sticky feeling of the paint on your bodies, the imprints of your ass, hands, feet, all within the swirling colors painted across the canvas as you changed from one position to another.  On your back with Jungwoo above you, one leg over his shoulder as he buried himself deep inside your pussy. Eyes shut tight, you were practically gasping for air with every thrust when your body started to tingle from head to toe. You laced your fingers in his hair, changing the color of his icy blonde locks to the fiery red on your hands.  

"Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?" He said with shaky breaths, "pretty baby, can you answer me?" He said as he kissed you to get you to respond.

Giving him a lazy smile, you peeked open your eyes to look at him and answer. "I'm  cuming" is all you managed as you came, nails digging into his back as your pussy fluttered around him. The feeling of you tightening around him as you came pushed Jungwoo over the edge and he came inside you, letting you finish out your orgasm milking him into overstimulation.

Completely exhausted, breathing heavy, and sticky, you let out a giggle that caused Jungwoo to shoot you a questioning look.

"What's so funny?"

"We're covered in paint almost from head to toe, there is paint splatter on my floor and we have to actually go out in public like this. So messy."

"Good sex is always messy" He said as he kissed your cheek.

WOW! THIS IS AMAZING! far beyond anything I had expected. The partial face of a woman in the heat of passion, the hectic swirls of colors, and the well placed silhouettes of body parts, it really makes your imagination run wild thinking about what the position was that left that imprint." 

You hummed in agreement; you didn't need to imagine though. The forearms on each side of a woman's ass were from when Jungwoo devoured your pussy, the imprints of a woman’s knees and toes in front of a man's feet were from when Jungwoo face fucked you, the smudged silhouettes of the 2 of you strewn about from the constant changing of positions, the scene replayed vividly in your mind.

You were startled out of your memory when the owner of the matchmaking service asked you a question that you obviously missed. 

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I asked how you did the silhouettes?"

"Oh! I have a few models I use sometimes; I explained to them what I wanted to accomplish and we worked together to bring my vision to fruition."

"Well done! Expect lots more work from me in the future."

"Wonderful! I look forward to seeing her next masterpiece for you" came Jungwoo's voice from the lobby entrance as he shot you a wink.

After a brief introduction, the 2 of you politely said goodbye and headed to your place. The entire car ride was mostly Jungwoo explaining how it was so hot knowing there was a giant abstract painting of the 2 of you having sex, hanging in the lobby of a building for everyone to see.

#nct fanfic #nct fic #nct x reader #poly nct #nct smut #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo fanfic #doyoung x jungwoo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #jungwoo smut

[pbandjesse]

I am absolutely shattered today. More exhausted then I have been in a while. I am super glad my workshop tomorrow is not happening anymore because I don't think I could handle it. I am just. So tired.

I didn't sleep amazing again. My ears hurt again. I have had go take out all of my piercing. Which seems to have helped a little bit. But I also absolutely slept through my alarm because I was asleep on top of my phone. Thankfully James woke me up at 715.

I was in a horrible mood though. And I was very snippy. I was in my head telling myself to knock it off but I was having a bad time. I was to hot. I would be okay but it did not start well.

James left for work before me. And I took a few extra minutes to sit and watch my new fish because I read that it can help your blood pressure and I do think it helped a little bit. I was out the door by 755.

I got over to creative alliance and loaded up my wagon. As I walked from the corner where I parked t Creative Alliance Parker pulled up and I was like. Oh hi! And I really tried to put on all my energy. But I was for sure more low energy then normal. I tried but I was struggling.

The classroom was 72 degrees. Which was wild. Parker would realize and fix it pretty quick but it did not help how warm I already was. But it would be okay.

I started setting up my program and slowly the kids started coming in. Including some I knew! One from the nursery I subbed at before and one form puhtok. And everyone was really great.

James had given me a bunch of flattened cardboard boxes from soap being sold at the gift shop. So as the kids came in, some went to draw, and some came to help me assemble the boxes. And it was fun. A nice little way to get to know each other and jump right into making stuff.

They were all really excited about the Rubbermaid tubs of stuff I brought. And I gave them plastic bins to start putting things to the side in case they might want to use them for their dioramas. But we would be breaking into two groups later on so it was no rush.

The kids were really funny. And by the end of the day they had developed their own religion, with one of the older boys, Andrew, becoming the cult leader. It was all around an egg that did not shatter with the others. And then at lunch they went to the park and saw a dead bird and I think there is a chicken and the egg conversation to be had but they just kept chanting. And making art about the egg. Children are so wonderfully weird.

Parker took the kids on a tour of the two buildings first. Which gave me a few minutes to eat my breakfast. But soon they were back and we jumped right in.

We started with taking about what a dioramas was. I wrote things in the board and we discussed what it is, what it's made of, why someone might make one. And they had really great answers. Next we filled out the worksheet I made up with information for thinking about how your diorama will function. Who's in it? What's the environment? What are the materials? We then sketched it and then we made paper models of the ideas. Not everyone did all of these steps, and they really didn't have to. But it was good to work through the ideas.

We had approximately 2 and a half hours for each group. And I found that about half of each group spent the entire time making, while the other half finished in about an hour. So I had to push for adding things. And I would find some books and Legos to entertain the littler ones. But overall I think we did great.

I did struggle when I realized I forgot my hot glue sticks at home. So the first group only had 5 sticks. But they really made it work. Like it wasn't perfect but it was still good. Even if I was stressed. And I would cut my finger in my pocket knife when I was helping cut windows out of boxes. Ouch. It was bleeding pretty bad and I was mad at myself.

But the kids did great. Only a few little finger burns on the hot glue guns. No one seriously injured. And they all worked really hard. It was nice to see.

They had a snack break half way through the morning. I would have my little lunch then since I was planning on quickly driving home to get the hot glue during their lunch half hour.

After their snack some of them finished quickly. Some took the rest of the hour. Other started drawing. I had music going. It was a little tough for me to find music without cursing so we ended up listening to Mitski and Julien Baker all day. Which I enjoyed and I think kept the space calm.

We finished the morning session and Parker collected the other class and my class and I headed to the car.

I quickly drove home. Washed my face and tried to shake off the tired feeling. My feet hurt and it would only get worse. But it was okay. I grabbed the hot glue. Pet Sweetp. And quickly drove back. Got the same parking space even!

They were still at the park for lunch so I enjoyed sitting on the stairs outside. I was out there for like ten minutes when I heard the entire group of children chanting "all hail the dead bird!" Over and over. Children are hilarious.

I did have to ban chanting though because half of my second group was getting very frustrated by the boys repeating and being loud about eggs and I was getting frustrated too. You may worship the egg quietly in your head. I just don't want to hear it anymore.

The afternoon felt long. But I know it was mostly because I was very tired. I still had fun. And really enjoyed seeing what everyone was making. Some of the kids really were great at this project and I was so proud of them. This is for sure a 3rd/4th grade project. But what else it new, that's the age I work best with.

Around 330 we started cleaning up. Some were still working. Some were done. I was slowly cleaning up around them. Teaching some how to properly wash paint brushes. Giving others the job of sweeping. And soon parents were showing up.

As they were getting picked up I thanked them all for coming. One of the kids showed me a magic trick. I got to meet the other teachers who were teaching the kids to do magic tricks which was very neat. And after packing my wagon I was ready to go.

I checked in with Parker before I left. And he just said how awesome he thinks I am and how he loves how I know so many things. To be fair I know a little about a lot of things, and it's hurt me in the past. I remember when I applied for Penland to try and get a residency after college and they said I had to many directions in my portfolio. That I needed to focus. But that was never going to be me I guess. I think I like it better that way.

I held it together until I got home. But I was exhausted. My feet hurt so much. I desperately wanted to lay down.

And that's just what I did. I got home and took my shoes off and got on the couch. And that's where James found me not long after. I was very upset and very tired.

I just kept closing my eyes. But James asked me what I wanted for dinner and I wanted brass tap. It took me a while to get to that answer but I did get there. And it was hard to get up. But James pulled me off the couch and we headed to Towson.

James took us a fun back roads way. And I talked to them about some frustrations I am having and that helped me feel a little better.

We parked in the parking garage at the mall and went to the restaurant. And it wasn't amazing and I felt horrible. But I was happy to be with my James. Even if it was to loud. Ah well.

I still appreciated James trying to make me feel better. The food was fine and I saved the salad for tomorrow. We walked through the mall to go to the car because it had started to rain. And it was nice window shopping but I was very much ready to go home.

When we got back here I got changed and got in the couch. James did some painting for the stairwell. And me and Sweetp have just been resting.

And I am very very much ready for bed now. Thankfully the only plans I have this weekend is to have brunch with Callie tomorrow. She's coming to get me in the morning and we have reservations so I'm hoping it's pretty low stress. And I'm just really looking forward to seeing her. Hopefully I will sleep good and be able to feel amazing tomorrow.

I hope you all feel amazing too. I love you all very much. Goodnight everyone.

[darlingpwease]

Oh no.... red just happens to be one of my favorite colors..... /j

but I do plan on taking a break soon.... my eyes are getting stupidly dry so after I finish catching up on some books I'll probs take a break.... maybe.........

Melting??? How bad??? How quick???? Shall I help clean up???? Should I boost up the heating????? /t /pos

Damn.... infections and uncomfortable positions along with dirt,, or somewhere comfy and nice with a sly bubba..... hmm....

I think a hole is safer

Safer?? Tell me Dove, how so?? ...goodness, you don't plan on biting me to death, do you???

I feel you, I feel you. I'm quite literally a few more /s and /srs mix ups away from quitting /j

it is annoying tho at times, but I will remember the difference, purely out of spite.

HAHAHA NO WAY, THATS EXACTLY WHY I WASNT SUPER INTO IT LMAOOOO

I remember the first time I tried to read regular a×o and I hated the couple dynamic. Especially the "fragile, frail omega always in distress who needs their strong muscular dominant alpha to take care of them" vibes that happen a lot. Or the rape that happens. Yikes.

But when it comes to the more.... diverse(?) aspects of it, I'm feral. I'm so crazy about the ambiguity and how many different ways it can go. Hidden secret love?? Beautiful. Normal on the surface, but goes completely against societal norms?? Stunning. Crazy infatuation, and dependency on one another, due to similarities and also due to knowing juuust how to make things right for one another??? I'm foaming at the mouth. It's so good.

Hhhhhh, getting Yuuta that pretty skirt, you can't wait to take him out on a date and see him dressed so pretty <333 That's why you couldn't help teasing him once you did. Holding his hand while you two walk side by side,, loving the way he gripped onto you. He can feel the vibe pressing against his prostate, he's trying so fucking hard not to cum, not to draw attention to himself– when you gently caress his back, loving the way he trembles as his neck flushes to beautifully,,,

You just couldn't help dragging him to a secluded alleyway and just fuck his brains out,, nipping at his skin as he whimpers nonstop, tears slipping down his cheeks, mixing into the drool dribblin from his chin,,, slipping your hands beneath his skirt before gripping his thighs tightly, rutting into him uncontrollably–

You have to stop, but you can't. You both know the possibility of getting caught, especially right here, right now,, but neither of you can even bother to think of stopping. Not when it feels this good–

Especially with Yuuta gripping onto you, not letting you pull to far away, maybe he wouldn't mind being caught, showing how good you make him feel, how loved,, how he is all yours.

~

Toge swears he's not a pervert. But when such wonderful things are sent to him, he can't just put them to waste now, can he???

He's not a perv..... but when he hears Yuutas and ur voice, he does feel hotter,,

He really isn't one. But he can't help waiting in constant anticipation for you to send something new,,

Ha! A pervert?? How,, how can he.... fuck he can't stop shaking, he feels so so good but can't help but sob on how this just isn't enough–

He really, really couldn't help it when he called you up. You just sent him something new, and with your hoarse moans and Yuutas squealing as you just keep pounding him so hard, so good– he couldn't help calling you up, almost sobbing on how he wants it too– you fucking him? Him fucking Yuuta?? Maybe both??? And when he hears your chuckle, when you question him, "yeah? Is that so?? Keep talking, love, what else??" As Yuutas cries can be heard in the background, the creaking of the bed, the harsh slapping being heard, oh fuck, oh fuck this is so fucking good~ <333

shdgshdghdhdhd im insane

Nooo no, not insane, perfect mind and perfect thoughts. Could kiss ur brain if I could, mwah mwah, so wonderful <33

Big brain is best brain when it comes to all thoughts, but especially these one <333

Ouch?! ...the cavities are back. Ur too sweet. It's too much!!! What do I do??!?

That's understandable!! Thankfully it was like that, too, cuz then I was able to stumble upon ur blog lol

-panna cotta

sdgdhgdhgdd this explains a lot about your bully behavior </3 /j /pos

take please. we still need your brain & eyes. how do you plan to read how cute yuuta and toge are when they cum if you can't even provide your eyes with a normal rest??? weird </3 /j

or what; are you planning to stop with yuuta??? abandon yuuta??? leave him the same way you refused to handcuff yourself???

very bad, my heart just dissolves and becomes a slurry in my hands, OH, it hurts so much, AH, it even can't be stopped or wiped in any way, WHAT A HORROR, only your kiss can save m—

what vile words you say!!! I am the most sincere and harmless and honest company that could exist!!! not necessarily to 'death' actually...

exactly; between a hole and a nest, the choice is obvious — and it is not a hole <333

so true... one more time and I take up the knife </3 /hj

I don't. I don't remember. only when people ask — then I realize that hey, they're right, there's something wrong...

I've already said that I really don't like hetero omegavers with traditional aesthetics, but I understand you. sometimes fixation on instincts looks creepy, especially when "your body says otherwise😏" and similar crap begin.

but for me, it's rather not the dynamics itself or explicitly implied sexism and biological determinism, but a comfortable distribution of roles. if we take a world where omegas are really absolutely submissive and fragile, while alphas are aggressive and masculine, then the only thing that can be done is to recognize the projection of the writer and move on, that's just how their world works. another thing is when omegas are not fragile and submissive, but alphas make them so by raping and forcibly subjugating — it already becomes unattractively problematic and gross.

I love the traditional one, because that's where I met the idea of an omega who kills alphas by attracting them with his scent; a universe where omegavers exist as a primitive system, only to end up being not primitive people, but those who survived after a massive catastrophe on the planet that destroyed all civilizations and returned people to the stone age; a world where betas breed alphas with omegas as animals, being a 'superior race' devoid of sexual drives and considering themselves purer from that.

I don't like subtext and when it gets too unhealthy for me, but I drag and read everything else <3

shdhhdhdhd you are so so so right & stunning, honey,,,,,, like, so right<3333

Yuuta in a pleated skirt with a high waist, at first shyly circling in front of you, trying not to let the fabric get in and expose the cute delicate underwear that he specially put on for you, — and you constantly praise him, whispering about how beautiful and cute he is in this skirt, you want to bring him out so much and to show everyone his beauty, but Yuuta always refuses, blinking with shame and shy delight at your words. When he finally agrees, interrupting your caresses, whispering a hoarse "yes" to your playful and only teasing offer right now to take him outside, you don't know if you are delusional or misheard — but you don't waste a minute when he nods head at the question, saying in a trembling voice that he agrees and he wants to go out in this form on the street, if you want it too, and you more than want it.

A few minutes are enough for you to be ready to go out, — first taking care of his sensitive body, — holding his hand, wet with excitement, whispering that his skirt is beautiful and his face is wonderful when you pull him behind you, almost instantly closing the door and hurrying outside, forcing him to take long strides and lift his skirt higher, exposing his thighs, making him blush even more, as if Yuuta no longer looks like he wants to hide in the nearest hole — but you seem to deliberately ignore his shyness, pulling him along, putting your hand on his waist, whispering that you will cover if there is a wind, it would be awkward if everyone saw his wet panties,

but after half an hour, Yuuta dreams of the wind that will lift up his sticky wet skirt, maybe then you will pay him a little more attention than the usual questions about his well-being and the frivolous "oh, well, then let's go if you're okay" when he clings to you, squeezing his hips together, being too close to lift up the fabric and show you how bad everything is with him, begging you, but he is ashamed at the very thought of it — breathing heavily, sluggishly moving his legs, feeling the heat of his neck and ears from shame and excitement, knowing that others pay attention to his strange behavior and appearance, everyone except you, and that you ignore him, waiting for him to be able to tell you how needy and wet he is for you.

When you grab his hips, lifting up wet soaked skirt, teasing for how little he needs to ruin his clothes, Yuuta agrees with everything you say, longing only for you to continue touching him, squeezing, kissing while people nearby make noise and walk by, going about their business, not even suspecting that you are about to fuck him in a dark, dirty alley — or suspecting when Yuuta cannot restrain an enthusiastic moan, like an addict, instantly clinging to you when you drive into his overexcited body, which is enough of this rough thrust, — but can still go on when you fuck him in a sloppy rhythm, letting him enjoy all the sounds that his needy body makes, greedily squeezing you, almost forcing you to stay inside with no way out.

But even if you are suspicious, too suspicious, there is no reason why questions should not arise, Yuuta moans through palm with each new touch of your skin to his, more than encouraging you not to stop, digging his nails into your clothes, almost forcibly pulling you to his hot wet body when you are too slow, teasing him with unhurried thrusts, whispering that everyone hears you, knows that he likes to be fucked in the alley; whining your name and begging for more even when shaking from a new orgasm, whimpering from too much stimulation while you drive in despite his need to stop, whispering something dirty, making him feel so shameful and blessed at the same time.

When he hears sounds too similar to someone's footsteps, but you don't pay attention to them or don't hear them? Yuuta's body is tense, so tense that nothing can escape his attention just to make sure that no one will disturb you, but he just stupidly kisses you, not even letting you suspect that he hears something, longing only for you to continue no matter what, repeating your name like a prayer, wanting to be caught and seen, fucked like your toy for entertainment, regardless of whether there is someone else here or not.

Maybe when you whispered that they could look at him, Yuuta likes to be looked at, it was a joke in a much smaller sense than you thought.

Toga feels so messy and hot when you leave him on speakerphone, purring to Yuuta that another participant has joined you, but Yuuta only mumbles something in response, sobbing, whining long — before Toge hears your voice telling what you are doing with him now, how you are stroking, what touching, how excitingly Yuuta squeezes when you stretch him, how he trembles while you stroke him, caressing, soaking his skin with his precum, drawing lines and shapes while he pathetically begs you to stop teasing him, but you only say that Toge should also feel involved, Yuuta is not the only one who should have fun, perhaps you've spoiled him too much.

He does not immediately understand what is happening when he hears a dull moan from Yuuta, a rustle, an inarticulate whisper, which then changes to a slap — and a careful fall close to the phone; understanding occurs only when you start talking again, asking Yuuta to say hello (mentioning how frivolous and excited he is now, unable even to think sensibly from how long you have been playing with him, making Toge whine), explaining that the bed is not too good for transmitting sounds, so Yuuta will hold the phone while you fuck him so that Toge can hear everything well, — you will make sure that Yuuta gets punished if he puts down the phone, — especially what kind of slut Yuuta is for you, constantly begging for more, demanding more and more, offering everything that he can, longing to be bred even with the condition that the other person hears it, as long as you don't stop.

Toge is so sensitive, he hasn't even moved away from the last orgasm yet, but he can't help but touch himself, hearing Yuuta moaning and screaming with delight, gasping, whining, whimpering, begging you for even more, saying how amazing it is, how deep you are, how his body is shaking, no one will ever be able to make him feel just as amazing — and Toge just cums with his nose buried in the pillow, turning on the sound to the maximum, hearing your voice mixed with Yuuta's voice asking if Toge is having a good time too, and he is dangerously close to send you a photo of this mess and show how he feels. When his thighs are sticky and wet, they are probably the same as Yuuta's, but not at all from how many times you have had an orgasm and decorated his body, — and when you whisper in Yuuta's ear (or specifically teasing Toge) that by the time you're done, he won't even be able to bring his legs together, that's enough for both of them.

Toge does not know how to feel when he hears you kiss him, saying that he was beautiful today, such a good boy, you will give him a reward later, and carefully take the phone, ignoring the dissatisfied sigh of the exhausted Yuuta due to the lack of warmth and pressing against his body, asking if Toge feels well, and, having received a satisfactory answer, you will believe that you were happy to talk to him and he can always call you for any questions and problems, you are always open to conversation, just like Yuuta (mumbling something from afar, unable even to answer something from fatigue), and he's not sure how to answer.

(not that he could refuse such friendliness and hospitality.)

... say it now again, seeing all that I have written </3333 im not okay /hj

yes!!! you're just so good, I want to wrap myself around you and listen to you forever <333 /pos

I wanted to answer, but all the answers sound even more creepy than my usual ones, so, xxxx, I'll come back to you later!!! </3333

AWWWWWW <3 thank you so much for bumping into me once and staying with me, dear♡

#.spicy♡ #[📂] — voice from under the bed #❖.my jewelry #✮.panna cotta <3 #✉.yuuta okkotsu #✉.toge inumaki

[spiked-mall-goth]

so i had such a day today omggggggg

so got up early as hell to go see saw which was at 12:15pm. theaters a ways away and we wanted to go to the flea market.

at the flea market i saw this cute halloween tin and was like oooOOOooo !! but i picked it up and it rattled, and was full of halloween JEWELRY!!! sooo i obviously got it, bc it was only $1(usd)

keep walking and a very big lamp catches my eye, idk why but i HAD to go look at this lamp. so i mosey on over take a look at the lamp and hidden under a pile of stuff next to the lamp is a little woodstock figure!! hes in a valentines heart chocolate box and i literally was like YIPPEEE!!! so i got him for a dollar and put hm in my little halloween bucket.

keep walking and my brother stops to search a toy bin for go bots, and i find a SNOOPY!! hes a 2018 mcdonalds toy and hes sitting on a cloud holding woodstock and when you roll him is EARS SPIN. literally the coolest thing evr def screetched a lil dont even worry abt that. hes now also in my bucket.

so we move on and this booth has some really nice halloween stuff set out so i go over to look. and the older lady who owned it saw my halloween bucket and was 'that is so cute!!' and i was like 'right?? it was only a dollar and it had jewelry!!' so i open it to show her and she sees my snoopy and woodstock and is like 'HOW CUTE COME LOOK AT MY BOBBLE HEAD' and pulls me over to look at the snoopy bobble head she had as decoration. and ofc im like 'OMG HOW FUCKING CUTE' and we chit chat and then shes like hey i think youd like this, and then pulls me over to a glass case with a DRACULA TROLLS DOLL IN IT. and ofc im FREAKING OUT BC HOLY SHIT ITS A DRACULA TROLLS DOLL. anyways i did not have $25 to spare today :<

so we leave the flea market and go get movie snacks to smuggle in (im so poor btw), get to the theater and buy tickets. the worker is like 'yep saw x, youll be in theater 8' so me and my brother walk in and sit down just to be greeted by paul dano in a santa hat staring straight at us telling us about the stock market and nfts. we are like ????? check the tickets. they moved the time from 12:15pm to 1:50pm.... we have made a terrible blunder. we debate what to do b4 walking out of the theater and going up to the front like 'heyyyyyyy so we totally got the wrong time, can we come back later with the tickets or do we have to stay here?' and she was like 'yeah totally. i noticed u walked into dumb money a few minutes ago and was like hmmmm i wonder if they noticed.' SHE WAS GONNA JUST LEAVE US IN THERE. that is so fucking funny to me.

we go kill time at a thrift store, my younger brother buys a vial of holy water.

we come back, still terribly early but whtvr. me and my older brother play the worst game of pocket tanks this world has ever seen. my younger brother texts to let me know he stopped at a different thrift store on the way home and got me AN X FILES VHS FOR FIFTY FUCKING CENTS !!!!!! YIPPPEEEEEE!!!

we watch saw. very bad movie omg. come home, breath once then right back out the door for my older brothers band to practice and then a boring ass social event. there were burgers there tho,, damn fine food.

thats all the interesting stuff but im already here typing and your already here reading. i had a fight with my printer trying to print the notes i needed for rehearsals tmrrw (i waited last minute whoops). my cat did the most rancid thing i've ever seen. she propped her hind leg on the rim of the water bowl to lick her tosies.... i cannot even describe.. maybe i'll draw it later if i have the time. i set up my new figures on my desk (its so crowded lol) and i worked a little on the sculpture im making. yesterday my brother accidentally yanked my arm weird. he kinda pulled on the elbow i have previously fractured and it hurt but was fine, then tonight i was saying bye to my friend and he also yanked it. ouch. wearing a brace rn bc woof. i finished up some of the choreography i was working on for my next show, although i have no idea if it will actually work bc i did it alone in my room and not with like the 7 other ppl. i had a stange fruity drink, didnt taste good. my best friend texted me panicking bc she took smth WILD and was off her gourd. (shes on a business trip btw). i also did the laundry.

#spikes rambles #okay goodnight #mwah mwah mwah #long ass post sorry

[dylanwritesgood]

Got My Fate Lyin’ in Your Hands | 1

masterlist | ko-fi | ask

Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

Summary: Barb Holland feels invisible. Her best friend is pulling away for the popular crowd and a boy, and she knows she's being forgotten. Gareth Emerson just wants her to know he sees her... but first she needs to notice him.

Pairing: Barb Holland x Gareth Emerson

Warnings: Canon minor injury

A/N: No one dies. Shout out to @rebelcthulhu for this like, ultimate rare pair. They're so fuckin' cute. Hope you love it! #justiceforbarb Should I keep going with this? Or are they just gonna pine forever?

divider graphic by @firefly-graphics

WC: 1,186

“Hey, you get kicked out, too?”

Barb startled, her head jerking up from where she’d been contemplating the still water of the pool. A few feet away stood a boy, small, round face haloed by fluffy, shaggy curls and swimming in his baggy jeans and too-large flannel. He hadn’t been at the party earlier—Barb was sure of that. It had just been Tommy H, Carol, Steve, and Nancy. Nancy… She wasn’t sure if she knew the kid, or at least knew him in more than the small-town, see-you-around-town-sometimes way.

“What are you doing here?” Barb asked, drawing her legs up to her chest. Her cut hand throbbed a little with the motion. So stupid, never should have tried to shotgun that beer.

The boy stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shuffling a little in place before jerking his head towards the house. “My friend’s dealing. Tommy H called him to see if he could score some weed.”

“And they kicked you out here?” Barb asked softly. He shrugged his narrow shoulders, the motion hardly noticeable under the oversized shirt hanging from them.

“Not like Steve Harrington wants a freshman around, y’know? Or Eddie, but at least Eddie has drugs. I just have a bedtime.”

Barb giggled, and he smiled shyly.

“So what are you doing out here? You’re not a gross freshman. They kick you out, too?” He repeated, taking a few steps towards her. She wasn’t immediately screaming at him to get away so he felt heartened. There was a deck chair near him, so he sat at the foot of it. 

“No,” she said, suddenly frowning, “It’s just… My friend, Nancy—she asked me to come but she’s off with Steve and I’m…”

“Here,” he finished for her.

“Here,” she agreed.

They were quiet for a moment, silently commiserating in being the outcasts. She flexed her fingers unconsciously, hissing in pain when her hand protested. He leaned forward, his brows drawing together.

“You’re hurt,” he said, concerned. “Lemme see it.”

He pushed himself up from his seat and came to stand at the end of the diving board, where Barb had curled up. He held a hand out to her to help her off the precarious perch. She let him help her, scooting towards him as he took her elbow and steadied her. Once she was sitting at the back end of the board, he took her injured hand, turning it over gently to take a look.

“Oh, ouch,” he murmured, unwrapping it and swiping away some of the blood from around the cut with the paper napkin she’d pressed to it to stem the bleeding. “Don’t think it needs stitches, but you’re gonna have a wicked scar. Here.”

He fished a bandana out of his pocket and carefully pressed it to the slice in her palm. Deftly, he gave it a few wraps and knotted it in place, settling the knot on top of the cut to keep pressure on it. “You should clean it really well, once you’re home.”

His hands linger for a brief few seconds before he let them drop to his sides. 

“I’m Barb,” she said suddenly, realizing she hadn’t introduced herself. He looked up at her, a half-smile on his lips.

“I know. I’m—”

“Gare-Bear! C’mon, I’m leaving!” His friend leaned out the sliding glass door leading into the backyard, hollering. Barb recognized Eddie Munson. He was a senior, obnoxious as hell.

“Duty calls,” he sighed, his smile turning rueful, “Listen, you should go inside, though. It’s not safe to be out here alone, y’know? I'll see ya around, Barb.”

With that, he turned and headed into the house. She watched him stagger under Eddie’s heavy hand, clapping him on the back as they exchanged words and Eddie laughed. She glanced back at the water of the pool before deciding that he was right—she should go inside and join the others.

Gareth couldn’t believe his luck. He was still pissed as hell that King Steve had taken one look at him trailing in Eddie’s shadow and had told him to get lost, but then he’d headed into the back yard and there she was.

He had frozen in place, just outside the door as Steve slid the door closed behind him. Gareth had had a huge crush on Barb Holland ever since he first started sixth grade and he’d seen her laughing with Robin Buckley in the halls of Hawkins Middle School. She was a grade above him and wouldn’t even bother to look his way, but it didn’t stop him from pining after her, even as other boys teased for her glasses and for towering above the rest of the girls in school—and most of the boys, too. He just wanted to hold her hand, even if he had to look up at her adoringly, instead of down.

But she talked to him. She told him about her friend abandoning her out here, she’d even seemed concerned that he’d been sent to the backyard to wait for Eddie, as if her own friends hadn’t done it to her, too.

And she’d laughed! That sweet giggle he heard in his dreams—she laughed at his joke! She hadn’t told him to get lost. And then she let him touch her, carefully taking her elbow and helping her off the diving board, carefully bandaging up her palm with his boy scouts wilderness first-aid knowledge. He was on Cloud-fuckin’-9.

“I’m Barb,” she said with a voice like a birdsong and a smile that made his stomach do flips that gave the high school cheer team a run for their money.

“I know,” he smiled. Of course he knew. He practically doodled her name on his Trapper Keeper all class long. “I’m—”

Eddie’s voice cut through the night. “Gare-Bear! C’mon, I’m leaving!” 

Gareth turned, shooting Eddie a nasty look. His best friend knew how huge of a crush he had on the redheaded girl. Eddie was being his obnoxious, embarrassing self on purpose.

“Duty calls,” he huffed, but gave her a rueful, frustrated smile. “Listen, you should go inside, though. It’s not safe to be out here alone, y’know?”

He couldn’t linger on his goodbye, not when Eddie's chains were jingling behind him as he got ready to embarrass the little freshman further. So he kept it short and sweet.

“I'll see ya around, Barb.”

As soon as the glass door slid closed behind him, he muttered at Eddie, “I’m going to kill you.”

Eddie laughed raucously, clapping him on the back roughly and making his knees buckle a little.

“Savin’ you from yourself, buddy. You were looking at her with hearts in your eyes. Hate to see you get shot down in Steve Harrington’s backyard on a Tuesday,” Eddie chuckled as he guided them out the front door and towards his shitty GMC van. 

“But Gare-Bear?!” he whined, climbing in the front seat. Eddie didn’t even dignify himself with a response as he cranked the van over. He just cackled, quickly drowned out by the wailing guitars of the tape he had playing earlier, and peeled off into the night.

#stranger things fic #gareth stranger things #gareth the great #gareth emerson #eddie munson #barb holland #barb stranger things #barb x gareth #gareth x barb #stranger things rarepair #rarepair #st1 #st4 #stranger things #got my fate lyin in your hands fic