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capslocked · 11 days

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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

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months

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closeness above all else - astarion ancunin

pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: Astarion was obsessed with you. There was something about you that he found so appealing. Maybe it was your leadership or your ability to fight? Maybe it was your ability to maintain the group. You were a lovely woman to be around and Astarion found it so appealing. Maybe that was why when you were speaking to the innkeeper and smiled up at the man, Astarion felt a surge of jealousy. tags: pwp, breeding kink, darker themes, possessive behaviour, alcohol & drunkenness, unprotected sex, smut, pregnancy kink, wife kink, he just loves you so much, 3.4k words a/n: i did minimal research if astarion could even get someone pregnant, but don't think about it too hard, okay?

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Astarion was obsessed with you. There was something about you that he found so appealing. Maybe it was your leadership or your ability to fight? Maybe it was your ability to maintain the group. You were a lovely woman to be around and Astarion found it so appealing. Maybe that was why when you were speaking to the innkeeper and smiled up at the man, Astarion felt a surge of jealousy.

The vampire always wondered if he could sire children, while the logistics weren’t clear he enjoyed the fantasy. The idea of their fearless leader having a piece of him always with her. As if it wouldn't be your shadow, to make sure that you were always safe. And once you got too swollen with a child, then you two could settle down somewhere.

The thought made him aroused, but the rush was cut short when he saw you talking to the innkeeper. It made something else flood the man’ system, a spike in jealousy as he watched. And when you leaned over and nudged the man’s shoulder, the vampire saw red. He knew he’d have to act on his desires soon, he was growing weak without his feast of blood and your sweet body. Maybe it was time to leave his little surprise as well.

He came up beside you and grabbed the key from the innkeeper, “Shouldn’t you be tending to other guests, not bothering our dear leader?”

The innkeeper’s eyebrows knitted together. He looked around and saw no one else except for the pair in front of him. He gave your partner a strange look as Astarion turned away with you with keys in hand. The vampire gave one last look to the innkeeper almost like a threat to not come near you. His hand was on your lower back, his fingertips were threatening to sneak under the bottom of your shirt.

There was no one who would get in his way. You were HIS. He’d make sure no one bothered you once he got you pregnant. You’d make such a wonderful mother to his child or maybe even children if he was lucky. A little human wife all to himself. The thought excited him. As you both walked to rejoin the group, he leaned over and kissed the top of your head lovingly.

Tonight was going to be an interesting night.

But that first meant having dinner and you had your fill. The alcohol brought red to your cheeks as you went for another glass which made Astarion take you by the wrists and sit you back down beside him. He said quietly, “Now, now. You know alcohol makes your blood taste sour.”

You were a mess of giggles and tried to get out of his gasp. But he just brushed his nose further up against your neck and he smiled to himself. He ended up with a bun to the face from a fellow party member to stop practically having sex with you at the tavern. The action made you laugh harder and cuddle yourself up in his arms.

“Don’t be meeeeeean.” You said, “He’s trying to be nice. You know how rarely that happens!” You then dissolved into another mess of giggles.

He chuckled and had another sip. His hand was on your back as he held you close, “Next time we have to make sure she doesn’t get into the wine. She’s as red as a strawberry. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You peeked up at him and nodded. You held onto the front of his shirt. You looked so innocent. It made him smile more. He could feel tightness in his pants. He reached over and fed you a small piece of the meal you were all sharing, “I don’t need you to get sick on me now.” You nodded once more.

Astarion smiled, this was going to be easier than expected.

He took you back to the room you were sharing. It only made sense that you two would share, at some points you were practically attached at the hip. Plus if someone else slept in the room with you, Astarion would never shut up about it. Even though he didn’t need sleep the way most species did, he wanted to make sure his darling slept soundly.

You stumbled over yourself in the short walk back to the inn. He helped steady you and encouraged you to keep going with kisses. You giggled at jokes you made up in your head and tried not to lose your breath from laughing so hard.

“Darling.” He said as he attempted to keep himself composed, “Do you want me to carry you?”

“Nah!” You giggled, “I can get by on my own two feet.” And as soon as you said that you tripped over a rock on the cobblestone road and fell over. With his quick thinking, he grabbed you to prevent a face plant.

He sighed and picked you up bridal style. He looked in your eyes, “You need to watch where you’re going. I can’t have our fearless leader getting hurt because of a rock.”

You laughed, “Why are you being so nice, Astarion? Did you get swapped with someone else and didn’t tell anyone?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek, “No, no, I’m all me. I’m worried about my love, there was a lot of wine that you had. I worry someone would try to hurt you. There are many cruel men who would take advantage of you.”

You beamed at him, “You just want a taste, huh?”

“Would you allow me?” He asked softly.

“I mean, the bruises have healed on my neck. I wouldn’t mind having new ones.” You smiled and kissed him, not the cheek. You felt light headed and dizzy, you were thoroughly drunk. But you believed that your loving partner would take care of you.

“Good girl.” He whispered and smiled when you burst into giggles again. He felt warm in a way, a rush of anticipated pleasure through his body as he got the door to your room open. He stepped inside and let the light of the town shine through. He lit the lights in the room and got you undressed.

“It’s embarrassing when you see me naked.” You admitted as you covered your face.

He pulled his hands away from your face and gazed down at you. He smiled and you saw the glint of his fangs. “There’s no need to hide, my love. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame. And I want you to burn me alive.” He leaned forward and grazed his fangs against your neck.

His hands made their way through every button, snap and strap on your body. He left you in nothing but the undergarments you wore. His hands were placed back on your hips as he sank his fangs into your neck. You moaned and gripped onto his shoulders. Your nails dug into the meat of them as he happily drank from his beloved.

The blood was a little sour from all the alcohol but he’d never say no to having his teeth on you. He knew it would leave an ugly mark in the morning. But that way fine, he’d say it added to your charm. He then held your chin so you didn’t move your head while he fed. He groaned against your skin, his cock twitched in his pants.

Eventually he pulled away when he decided to not drain you dry. He licked the wound to ensure that it would stop bleeding. He moved further away and looked over on you, with red painting his mouth and chin. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly. Your legs were practically wrapped around his waist. He was still dressed while you were almost nude.

He wiped his mouth on his wrist and gazed at you with those stunning red eyes. He smiled down at you and rubbed his clothed cock up and against you, “I can feel how aroused you are.”

“Astarion.” You moaned.

“I know my darling, I know how you feel about me. I see it every day. You look at me like I raise the sun every morning. Despite all that tough exterior, you need someone to protect you. And I’ve found that I’d be willing to do anything to keep such a precious gift safe.” By any means, he thought.

You laid there in the mess of pillows and blankets. You got your undergarments off to show off your curves to your loving partner. You felt his heated gaze on your body. You rubbed yourself up against him and he chuckled.

“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. All this time on this earth and yet you are the most beautiful thing I’ve laid my eyes on.” He started to get undressed. He felt your drunk gaze on his body. Usually he’d do it slowly to show off. But he had a mission in mind.

Your figure was missing something. Not a sword or armor, but rather something softer. A nice slope to your belly with the promise of new life. He brushed a hand down your front and gave extra attention to your abdomen. You didn’t notice his intentions as the touch made you giggle. There still was a drunken throb in your head. It also didn’t help that your pulse was racing.

Astarion’s gaze remained on you as he got undressed. Soon he was bare as you were. His hands were on your breasts, his mouth was on your right nipple. His fangs carefully grazed the nub. You almost kicked out your legs from the sensation of it all. You yelped and felt a shiver down your spine.

However, he kept you pinned to the soft bed you shared. He was going to make sure you felt good, he read somewhere that if you made a woman orgasm multiple times she was more likely to get pregnant. And Astarion had to take all the advice he could get. His bare cock brushed up against your sweet pussy which made him shiver. Over a century on this earth and there was no feeling like his cock inside of you.

He massages your breasts further, it was almost a little painful. He moved to the other nipple and you moaned loudly into the night air. Your heart raced as you felt yourself drown in the pleasure of it all. You felt more sensitive with all the alcohol in your system. You seemed louder as well with the more he touched you. He rubbed hi cock up against your pussy, he knew you were getting hotter from the sensation of it all. He groaned against your chest as he continued to play with you.

“Astarion.”

“Good girl.”

He thought you were divine. He thought there was no one else quite like you. He moaned into your skin as he nipped at it. He left small bruises around your chest which only made you moan louder. He stimulated you further as he felt you try to fight against him. He knew he was making you feel good.

It wasn’t long before you felt the pleasurable tension become overwhelming. You held onto him tightly as he made you feel good from touching on your breasts. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy. You arched your back as much as you could with him on top of you and climaxed. A sharp moan left your lips and then your hips dropped back down on the bed with a ‘thud’.

Astarion thought he was going to finish as well from the sight of your pleasure. You were going to be such a sweet wife for him, and he couldn’t wait to drag every orgasm out of your sweet body. He kissed your skin and mumbled, “I can’t wait to get you pregnant, Make you my wife.” But his voice was so quiet that you couldn’t hear him.

You relaxed against the bed and basked in the feeling of his hands all over you. When he touched your sex it felt like lightning through your body. It was an overstimulation but you loved the feeling. Your face felt hot, and your head was swimming.

“Beautiful girl.” He praised me.

You rubbed your thighs together and he thought you were perfect. But even perfection could be improved on. He brushed you in the middle again, he wondered how the child would take after. He hoped they looked like you, except with their father’s fangs.It wouldn’t be easy to carry a vampire child, but he believed in you. You’d care for the being as well as being a wife for him.

It was a sick part of him, to trick you into becoming his bride. But he couldn’t contain himself. He moved back to being on top of you, he moved your legs to be around his waist. He brushed his cock up against your sweet pussy. You moaned and held onto the pillows under your head.

“So beautiful.” He said. “Astarion.”

Even the way you said his name was appealing. It sang to him like a siren song. It only made him want you more. His sick desire to keep you as his until the end of both your days. To be a wife and mother, to leave behind the age of adventure. To become domestic with him. To get away from the madness. It excited him and made his large cock twitch. He groaned as he continued to fondle you as you tighten your legs around his waist.

Soon he had enough of the foreplay and groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.

Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.

“Good girl.”

“Astarion, please. It feels so good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. That you’re feeling so good for me. I like making you feel good, my darling. Keep it up, beloved.” He purred as he picked up the pace. His hands laid back on your hips as he got at the right angle that made you tense up with every heavy thrust.

The future with you looked bright. A nice home far away from anyone else, some privacy for the both of you and the growing family. The sight of your pregnant form aroused him, to know that you laid with him. That no other man could do what he did. You’d be his forever. And he promised in return to worship you.

He wanted to fuck you with your swollen belly. Worship it as he thrusted into you. The thought of that possibly happening made his stomach flip. He gripped onto the covers tighter and continued to thrust into his beloved. You made a beautiful ‘o’ with your lips as he hit all your sweet spots. The buzz in his body made his head spin. He groaned into your skin before he pulled away and gazed down at you.

“Beautiful. So, beautiful. Gods, you are perfect.” He growled as he sank his teeth into your neck again. He lapped at more blood which only made you more light headed. You clung onto him and he happily feasted as he fucked you.

He knew what was best for you, you’d be happier being protected by him. To have a family with him. It was what would make you happy. You needed to TRUST, Astarion. He grunted against your neck as he finished his feast. His cock twitched inside of you. The sounds of sex filled the room and the old bed creaked against the wall.

Your neck and chest were covered in his bites, in his love. And soon your insides would be covered in a different kind of love. He panted wildly as he pulled away and looked down at you. You with the faint lights of the room, he knew your face was flushed from all the commotion.

“Astarion.” You said.

“I know. I know. You feel so tight. You are a dream to me, my darling. I’ve waited for this for a long time. To feel your body against mine. You’ve made me an addict to your body, I only want more and more of it as time goes on. You wouldn’t deny me your sweet love, right?”

“No, no.’ You panted as you felt the pleasure surge in your body once more. You dug your nails into his shoulders as you laid there in a swirl of your own pleasure. You felt the pressure again in your gut and your body started to go stiff. You groaned wildly into the night air then buried your face into his neck. You felt his skin against yours.

He held onto you tightly and pushed as deep as he could inside of you. It was messy, both of you were running hot with blood on his face. You both felt intoxicated for different reasons. He started to kiss you, you felt your blood in your mouth as he passionately made out with you. His fangs grazed your bottom lip, not enough to make them bleed but enough to turn you on.

You looked disheveled with blood smeared on your lips, bites on your neck and a heat that radiated from your body. You held onto him and continued to kiss him. You clenched onto him and moaned into his mouth. The feeling erotic and you couldn’t keep it together for much longer. Your pussy tightened around his cock as he thrusted into you as fast as he could.

He pulled away from the kiss and gazed at you. He felt on the tip of orgasm. With another hard thrust, he shoved his cock as far as it would go and then he finished inside of you. At that moment you finished as well.

You laid limp on the bed as he finished inside of you. He shiver ran through his body, this could be it. He slowed down his pace until it was a full stop and held your face in his hands. You were out of your mind from all the intense factors. He smiled down at you. He kissed you once more.

“Beautiful.” Then he pulled away and held onto your thighs before he thrusted his cock inside of you until he got erect again. He smiled, there was no harm in doing it again. He had to take extra measures to make sure that it all took. A drop would not spill.

“Darling. I see he’s gotten bigger since the last time I measured you.” He smiled up at you as he pulled the measuring tape away from your swollen middle.

You placed your hand on your lower back and rubbed it, “I don’t know how he could get any bigger.” You had given up on adventuring months ago, living off your treasure out in the wilderness.

He got up to his feet and rubbed your swollen belly. He smiled down at you. He’d never have to worry about you being unsafe ever again. You’d be safe here in the home you two lived in. And soon you’d have an addition to your little family. You rubbed the mound too and he leaned in for a soft kiss.

“I was wondering.”

“Yes, my love.”

“Could you… Maybe, do what you did the other night to me? On my side.”

He smiled and placed the measuring tape down, “Of course, but let’s get you comfy in bed.” He placed a hand on your lower back. Things were different now, away from all the madness lived a former adventurer and her rouge husband. And soon their many children.

#bunny writes #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #pregnant reader #fem!reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #fan fiction #reader insert #pregnancy

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myeuphoricmindset · 1 year

Text

As the world burns | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary | You’ve been surviving in The Upside Down with Eddie for months, but tonight you and Eddie know you’re dying. So, would you sleep with the last person alive if it was Eddie Munson?

“Do you remember when you were younger and someone would ask if you’d sleep with a certain person if they were the last person on earth?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Well, here we are.”

Warnings/Tags | 18+ Unprotected sex, Hair pulling, Soft Dom Eddie (if that’s a thing?), Talks about death and world ending, Comfort Eddie, This one-shot is not about fighting or the Upside Down, it's focused on Eddie and the reader during their final night. Please let me know if I missed a warning.

Word count | 3.8k

Just keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Control your breathing. Don't let them hear you. Don’t stop.

Don’t stop.

It’s not unusual for you to disassociate during fearful situations. You’ve been doing this for so long that your body knows the motions and your mind wanders to keep you from panicking.

You focus on the back of Eddie’s jacket as you run behind him. DIO is the three-letter word that you say over and over in your head. You’ve asked Eddie about the band during the late nights of hiding beneath the trees. He is always happy to tell you about their music. Metal bands were never your thing and the you before The Upside Down wouldn’t have cared about Dio, but you’re not the person you were before. When living in darkness for so long you’re desperate to hear about anything that brings joy, especially when it’s bringing Eddie joy.

The crunch of twigs under your feet breaks your focus on your thoughts and you snap back to reality. Your leg gets caught in something and before you have a chance to look at what it is —you fall. A sharp pain ripples through your foot and you let out a cry.

“Shit! Are you okay?” Eddie says with panic in his voice. He kneels and touches your leg. His eyes are filled with fear as he meets your eyes.

“I-I’m okay.” You try standing up, but bite down on an uncontrollable whimper.

Eddie instantly wraps his arm around your waist, tossing your arm over his shoulder and lifting you. “I’ve got you.” He looks around the woods, making sure you both aren’t in danger. Loud screeching above grabs your attention and Eddie tightens his grip around your hip. “We’ve gotta keep moving. The cabin isn’t far. Will you be okay with my help?”

You nod. “Yes, let’s go.”

With Eddie’s support, you both make it to the cabin. He was right, it wasn’t far. Relief washes over you when the door closes behind you both and Eddie helps you down on the dusty couch. It’s obvious this place hasn’t seen a soul in years or maybe ever. The logistics of The Upside Down are hard to grasp. You only know that it’s a direct reflection of the real world. Is there a family currently sitting on this couch in the real world? Are they happy? Are they warm and safe? These are thoughts that always run through your mind when you and Eddie find a new place to hideout.

“There, that should hold,” Eddie says as he shifts the dining table in front of the door. He wipes his hands on his black jeans and takes a deep breath before joining you on the couch.

“I’m sorry. I should have been paying attention.” You say as you look down at your foot which is still tender.

Eddie looks at you. “Don’t apologize. Things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You hold his stare. His big brown eyes bring you so much comfort in this horrible world. You could have been stuck with anyone here, but you got stuck with Eddie Munson and that alone gives you hope for the future. Maybe someday you both will get out of here alive and live a happy and safe life.

Stop.

Stop telling yourself lies. This is it. There is no life outside of this. There is no happy ending. After months of running this is where it ends. It’s time to accept it.

“Does it even matter if I’m okay or not? We will be dead soon anyway.” You sigh and sink into the couch.

“You’re right. I just don’t like that you’re in pain near the end.” Eddie says softly.

“It’s just tender.”

Eddie looks at you and then around the cabin. “It looks different.”

“You’ve been here before?”

Eddie stands up and walks around the small living space. “A few times. This cabin belongs to Hopper. It’s the safest place I could think of for our…” he trails off and then clears his throat. “Final hours.”

You sit up on the couch and watch Eddie as he looks around. You never knew Eddie or his life before you found him unconscious in this dreadful place. You didn’t care who he was before, you were just so happy to not be alone. Trying to survive alone for two months does something to you. You end up so desperate for human contact that it ends up driving you insane. Eddie was a fallen angel in this place you call hell. You may have healed him, but he saved you.

“I’m glad we are together. You know, in the end.” You say. And you mean that. You’re glad to be with Eddie in the end. As this world burns up you’re at peace knowing you won’t burn alone.

“Me too.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s hard to genuinely smile when you know you’re dying soon. Eddie leans against the doorframe and looks at you. His eyes soften as he takes you in from a distance. You rest your head on the couch cushion and stare back. A small smile spreads on his face.

“What?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes drink you up. The weight of his stare has you shifting a little. “You’re beautiful. Do you know that?”

You roll your eyes as your cheeks burn. “Stop,”

His expression turns serious. “I’m not lying. You deserve to hear that. It should really be the last thing you hear.”

“Maybe it will be if you don’t die before me.” You say teasingly. It’s weird to joke in a situation like this, but it’s the only thing to keep you sane.

“That’s not going to happen.” He assures you as he walks back to the couch and sits next to you.

“How do you know? You could trip over something and hit your head on the counter. Or you could choke on a chip from our last remaining bag. Anything is possible.”

He laughs. “Imagine if a chip took me out. After everything I’ve been through that’s what got me. A chip.”

Now you’re laughing. “Yeah, forget the Demobats or Vecna. Watch out for the damn chips.”

Laughter fills the cabin and it’s as if the walls haven’t heard such a pleasant sound in so long that it echoes your voices, needing more.

As you catch your breath you imagine what’s to come and your smile slowly fades. “Where do you think we would be right now if we didn’t notice the atmosphere cracking?”

You think about it often. Where you would be and what you would be doing if Eddie didn’t realize that the cracks in the atmosphere were early signs of the Upside Down being destroyed. Eddie believes that Eleven found a way to take down this world. The first signs were the doors being sealed shut. There is no way in or out —no way to go back home. That’s when you both started to focus on surviving here. Until you can’t. Now there are fires consuming everything here. It started small and now it’s almost impossible to find shelter that’s not burned down. Today the sky is on fire and you both know, this is it.

“I don’t know. Probably running the streets looking for the next place to sleep.” He answers.

“Speaking of sleep, does this place have a decent bed? I don’t think I can sleep on the floor another night. My back is killing me from last night.” The thought of that hard ground in the woods makes you tense.

Eddie chuckles and stands up, offering you his hand. “You think I wouldn’t find a bed for our last night?”

You smile and follow him into the bedroom. Eddie removes the comforter that’s covered in dust, revealing the sheets in good condition. The pillows get tossed too. You are used to using your arm as a pillow now anyway.

Eddie and you strip off the dirty clothes from the day, leaving you both in your underwear. He is shirtless, but you’re thankful that your tank top is still clean to sleep in. This is normal. You aren’t fazed by sleeping in bed with Eddie anymore. It’s become a comfort to lay next to him at night. In a world of nightmares, you find yourself dreaming peacefully. But, tonight is possibly your last night alive and sleeping seems nearly impossible.

“Eddie?” You whisper into the silence.

“Mm?”

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No, not sure I can.” He says softly.

“Me either.”

A loud screech from outside catches you off guard and you jump causing the bed to shake.

“It’s okay. They won’t find us here. Not tonight.” Eddie says as he shifts in bed to face you. He lightly rubs your arm. He’s only ever touched you in comfort as a friend. You guys have never crossed the line between friends and lovers, even with the noticeable tension between you both. The lingering stares and soft touches have always been laced with something more.

“Can you hold me?” You ask nervously. Tonight you are not alone. Eddie is here, next to you, as the world ends. But somehow it’s not enough. You need to feel him. Because when everything goes black his voice isn’t the only thing you want to hold onto.

Eddie doesn’t answer, he simply wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. You inhale sharply. Your body immediately relaxes. He feels like a warm blanket.

“Is that better?” He whispers in your ear.

You can’t form words, so you just nod. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck. You can feel him inhale and exhale, his chest rising and falling against your back. When he exhales a breath it spills over your chest sending goosebumps down your body.

“Are you cold?” He asks.

“No, I’m fine.” You’re more than fine, but you don’t say that.

His fingers brush over your arm and you freeze, forgetting how to breathe.

“Are you sure? You have goosebumps.”

You smile, even though he can’t see it. “It’s not because I’m cold. It’s your breath on my skin.”

“Oh.” He says softly.

He moves his head back slightly, his lips brushing your neck and he breathes. He breathes slowly and deeply, letting his breath hit your neck. He’s teasing you, being playful like he always is, but you can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips. Your eyes go wide and you bring your hand to your mouth in embarrassment.

Eddie laughs softly and squeezes his arms around your waist. “I haven’t heard a sound like that in…shit, I don’t know.”

Your face turns red. “Well, you won’t hear it again.” You smack his arm, still embarrassed.

Eddie’s laugh lingers and then fades. He pulls you even closer, and now you can feel him completely against your backside. He brings his mouth back to your ear. “Is it wrong to wonder what it would be like?” He whispers.

“What?”

“To touch you. Kiss you.” His lips brush your ear. “Fuck you.”

Your breath catches. “You don’t know what you're talking about.”

Eddie scoffs quietly. “I know exactly what I’m thinking about.” His thumb brushed over the hem of your tank top. “Aren’t you curious?”

“Eddie…”

“Do you remember when you were younger and someone would ask if you’d sleep with a certain person if they were the last person on earth?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Well, here we are.” He pulls you onto your back as he sits on his forearm, looking down at you. “And my question is…would you?” His voice is low and it brings back the goosebumps that once disappeared.

You take in his question, thinking about it as if you don’t already know the answer. But you hesitate because even though you feel lucky in this situation—maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s settling because this is what the cards have dealt him and he can’t do anything about it. You don’t want to be the ‘well, what other choice do I have’.

You sigh. “I don’t want to be the pity last fuck.”

“Are you joking?”

“No. I’m serious.” You say, turning back to your side and away from him.

He laughs. “I’m sorry, I’m confused. Do you really think you would be a pity fuck? No, you’ve got that wrong. Being with you in any capacity is a fucking privilege.”

You look over your shoulder to meet his eyes. He gives you a soft smile, but his eyes are serious. “Then, yes. My answer to your question is yes.”

Eddie's eyes glimmer with desire as he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back against him. His hair tickles your neck as he moves his head back to the crook of your neck. “How do you want it?” He asks, his lips brushing your neck again.

“Like it’s the last time.”

Eddie chuckles against your skin and you can’t help but laugh because it tickles. But that laugh turns into a gasp when Eddie lowers his head to kiss your collarbone as his fingers slide down with the outside of your panties and slowly back up. There is no hesitation in his touch as if he’s thought about doing this before.

He kisses up your neck as he moves his hand back down. He’s not wasting any time. You arch your back which causes your butt to press up against him. Eddie let’s put a moan in your ear. He’s already hard against you and he feels big.

“Can you feel me?” He says grabbing your hip as he pressed harder against you.

“Yes.” You breathe.

He grabs your hand and rubs it gently against the outside of his boxers. “Feel how turned on you make me?”

You nod as you feel him, your arm outstretched behind you. He’s against you like the big spoon and you’re the little one. You can't see his face, but you feel him everywhere. Eddie guides your hand from his boxers to your own breast. He brings your hand up your tank top and pulls your bra down enough to guide your hand to cup your breast. You’re confused but follow his lead.

His hand leaves yours and travels down your stomach to the seam of your panties. He whispers in your ear, “Touch yourself as I touch you. Imagine your hand as mine.”

“Okay,”

Eddie's fingers slip under your panties and travel between your legs. He uses his elbow to open your legs wider. His finger lightly moves over your clit and you think your eyes might have rolled back at his touch.

“Mm, Eddie…” You moan.

“Touch yourself. Let me see.”

You move your thumb over your nipple and massage your breast as you remember his request. It feels good, but it feels even better with his hand between your legs at the same time.

“That’s it.” He says watching you. “Doesn’t it feel good?” His finger moves in a perfect circular motion and you wonder if he’s playing you like his guitar.

“Yes, so good.”

“Good. Such a good girl.” He says between kisses on your neck.

His fingers move down where you are soaked for him. You hold your breath with anticipation. He rubs his index finger around your entrance, teasing you. “So wet. Fuck. I can’t wait to feel you.”

You’re aching so badly for him. You look over your shoulder and say, “Then feel me. I don’t want your fingers. I want all of you.”

A deep groan of delight comes from his throat. He doesn’t say anything. He grabs your panties and swiftly rips them off, causing you to jump. He kisses your shoulder and smiles, “Don’t think you need those anymore.”

“Probably not.” You laugh.

Eddie doesn’t change positions, he presses on your back in request to have you bend toward your knees a little. “Atta girl,” He says as he guides himself behind your legs. You’ve had sex before and you’re familiar with doggy style, and even though this is basically the same, laying down like this isn’t something you’ve tried before.

You can feel the tip of his cock press against you. You grab the edge of the mattress as you wait. Eddie slides his hand between your legs and slightly lifts your leg to gain more access. “Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yes.”

And within seconds he’s pushing into you. You suck in a breath at how big he feels inside you. You arch your back further, which gives him more access. He whimpers and drives into you deeper.

“Oh god,” You moan into the mattress. It’s slow but so good. The position he has you in is almost a tease at what he can do. As if he wanted a quick taste of what it’s like.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he moves in and out and his breath is warm against your ear. It’s dark in the room and you aren’t facing him so you are fully focused on his deep thrusts and every part of your body that he’s touching.

“You feel so good, I need more.” He says breathlessly.

Eddie pulls out, leaving you aching. He flips you on your back as he moves on top of you. He looks down at you and smiles. You notice his hand moving to his cock and he wraps his fingers around himself as he looks at you. “I like the way you feel on me.” He says as he moves his hand up and down his wet length.

You blush at the sight of him touching himself. “Oh?”

“Don’t be shy.” He leans down and kisses you.

His lips are soft and gentle. You almost melt into the mattress. His tongue slides over your bottom lip. You are about to give him access to your mouth but your lips part for him in a moan as he slides his cock into you. Eddie tastes the moan on your tongue. He tasting, touching, and fucking you so perfectly. There isn’t one part of his body that isn’t touching yours.

A loud bang and crack come from outside the cabin. The room is now a little brighter —a little warmer. Eddie notices the worry in your eyes and he kisses your cheek. “Stay with me. Focus on this.”

“Okay,” And as the world burns around you both, you moan Eddie’s name and drown yourself in love instead of fear.

Eddie thrusts harder and as he moves in and out he brings his mouth to your breasts. Your hands find his hair, needing something to grab onto.

“Fuck,” He moans against your nipple as you tug on his hair.

“You like that?”

He looks up at you with a devilish smile. “Mm, yes. Harder.” Eddie’s voice is low and primal.

His soft curls tangle around your fingers as you embed them deeper, getting a better grip. As Eddie pushes into you, your fingers pull back on his hair. He lets out a moan as his head falls back. A laugh spills from your lips and you bite his exposed throat lightly.

“Jesus H. Christ,” He groans. He kisses you hard as his hands grab your hips and he drives into you harder and faster.

You both are lost in each other as the world falls apart. This is exactly what you needed. Exactly what you wanted. And you know Eddie feels the same. He’s as desperate for you as you are for him.

Your body begins to shake as the warm build-up begins to reach its peak. Eddie looks at you and says between moans, “Together,” and you find his lips in answer. Stars flicker around the room as you come undone and the sound of Eddie’s release sends you riding the climax longer. His shaking body falls beside yours, still holding you close. He doesn’t let you go.

He plants small kisses against your shoulder. “Last person on earth or not and I’d still consider that the best fuck I’ve ever had.” You laugh and agree.

As you try catching your breath you seem acutely aware of the loud cracking and screeching outside the cabin. At first, you thought you were hot because of what just happened, but it’s the room. Your eyes flick to the window and notice a subtle red hue in the sky.

“It’s the fires. I think it’s happening.” Eddie says softly.

You look at him nervously. “Why aren’t you scared?”

He pulls you close. “I’ve died before —or at least thought I was dying. The first time I was in the arms of a friend, I wasn’t alone in what I thought were my final moments. And here I am again. I won’t be alone and I know that it’s peaceful when you’re lucky enough to be held by someone you love. I mean, fuck, I’m still scared as shit but I’m not alone and that sounds more terrifying.”

A tear rolls down your cheek. You both lay facing each other, almost nose to nose. The noises outside become louder and the red hue is illuminating the room. Eddie pulls the sheet over your heads as his eyes stay on yours.

“I’m right here with you. We are together. Okay?” Eddie says as he gently cradles your face in his hands.

“Okay,” You whisper.

You wrap your hands around his wrists as your legs intertwine together. You’re both so close that you could be one. The sheet covers you both creating a safety cocoon. There is another loud bang followed by the sound of something exploding. It shakes the cabin and vibrates the bed. You close your eyes in fear.

“Look at me,” Eddie says.

You take a breath and look at him. You’re already entering darkness soon, so why not enjoy the view before it’s gone forever? If Eddie’s brown eyes are the last thing you see then it’s the perfect way to go.

Eddie wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb as he whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

‘You deserve to hear that. It should really be the last thing you hear.’ You don’t know if you’re crying because this is it, you’re dying, or if it’s because Eddie’s last words were for you.

A blinding light flashes in the room and a loud bang breaks through the cabin. Both of your eyes close with instinct and you hold your breath. You and Eddie cling to each other in hopes that you won’t lose each other as you enter the afterlife.

It’s silent.

Until it’s not.

“Eddie?” A faint female voice calls from a distance.

You both don’t move, completely frozen in each other's arms. Is this heaven? Is this hell?

“Eddie?!” Another voice calls. It’s a little deeper, but you can’t tell who it is. Or what’s going on.

You finally open your eyes and just as Eddie’s brown eyes meet yours the voice calls him again, but from inside the bedroom. Only feet away. The room that you thought you died in. This isn’t hell or Heaven, it’s home.

“Eddie, are you here?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide with shock and hope. Hope for our future, because this isn’t how it ends.

Only one word escapes Eddie’s lips before he smiles. “Dustin!”

Part 2:

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson fic #the upside down

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quinloki · 7 months

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I should be working, so of course I’m thinking about kisses from blorbos instead.

First kisses, mostly. In canon setting, or close enough to it.

This is all just off the cuff, so I’m putting it under a cut. I might do something more organized at a later date.

Shanks, Marco, Kid, Sir Crocodile and Doflamingo

Shanks - he’s so smooth you almost don’t realize what’s happening. There’s a warm hand on your cheek, brown eyes looking into yours. You don’t know when he got so close, but it’s not alarming, and you’re not uncomfortable. He was all jokes and laughs not even a few seconds ago, but now you aren’t even sure you’re still in the bar.

He makes a sound, a word maybe, something almost like a “yeah?” But you don’t really hear the word so much as the intent. Maybe you bite your lip, maybe you lean forward a little or give him a nod, but any motion of affirmation moves him forward. Fingers at the nape of your neck as he pulls you into a kiss that’s tastes sweeter than the rum he’s been drinking. You’re dizzy at the end of it, but maybe it’s a contact buzz, or maybe he really did just steal the air from your lungs and leave nothing but pleasure behind.

Marco - You’ve wanted to kiss those lips for days, if not longer. He’s not leading you on, he’s teasing you, delighting in ruffling your feathers. He likes to see you squirm, and you know those eyes have been watching your gaze shift to his lips every single time.

If you’re not brave enough to make demands, he’ll eventually lure you onto his lap - somewhere quiet and private, if he can test his own patience long enough to get away from the crew. He’ll pull you close slowly, giving you one last chance to decline. The first kiss will be brief, eyes watching you intently, and the slightest lean forward, the smallest gasp, and the following kiss will be heavy. A firm grip will hold you close a devour every moan he demands from you.

Eustass Kid - Subtle is for people afraid to hear the word no, and Kid ain’t afraid of anything. Just as likely to be bantering as he is to be arguing just before hand, the kiss will catch you off guard.

Somehow though, he’ll know that you wanted it. Whether you admit it with words or not, this cheeky bastard never misses the mark. Strong hands will have you pressed against the wall, squirming and squeaking and moaning as hot hungry lips steal air and sense from you.

By the times those painted lips are trailing down to your neck you’re probably already considering the logistics of fucking right where you are. Kid won’t force you to risk an audience, but he’s not wasting a drop of energy worrying about it on his own.

Sir Crocodile - you’re going to be the one to initiate the kiss with him. Probably sat up in his lap, or after you’ve already stripped yourself bare, and are laying underneath him. It’s the final affirmation for him, the last chance you have to deny him. He’s not kissing to test the waters or as a matter of course, he’s been considering you in the long term long before this moment. ( I feel like he’s a no kissing during casual sex kind of person.)

Once your lips are against his, there’s little control you’ll have after. He starts softly, gently, but firmly. More and more they become deeper and hungrier, dragging you under the heavy and inescapable desires of someone who doesn’t let go of what he’s claimed.

And certainly not when it’s wandered into his arms willingly.

Doflamingo - his first kiss is rough, greedy, if there’s acceptance on your part it’s more likely you were tricked into it. His hand will hold your face in place and his tongue will be deep in your mouth before you’ve even realized that you were being kissed.

Whether your sounds are protests or pleasures he’s not going to care. He wanted to kiss you, you were going to accept it. If he wants to use you further, he will. If you’re lucky he’ll have some kind of emotion toward you that isn’t just lust, and he may even decide to show you he can be considerate.

But you won’t find it in that first kiss.

#quin muses #x reader #reader insert #red hair shanks #sir crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #marco the phoenix #first kisses #just a quick thing pardon any typos or auto corrects

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iamthecomet · 2 months

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I'm alive I promise! As proof here's 800 words of Cirrus/Cumulus bath time. Magic use, making out, clit rubbing. A miniscule amount of lore. You know all the good stuff.

Many thanks to @mikorsghouls for blessing me with the idea of using air magic underwater. Your brain is so big.

Cirrus is, in a word, comfortable.

The water is hot, the bathroom sealed and steamy. She upended one of Mountain’s bath bottles into the bath before she stepped in. Rose and jasmine petals swirl around her, stick her to damp skin.

Cumulus’ fingers press into her belly, just over her belly button. The other hand rests on her thigh. Cirrus leans back, deeper into Cumulus. Lets the other ghoulette hold her, support her. She tucks her head under Cumulus’ chin, her own nearly dipping into the water. She sighs, bodily. The stress of the day wicking away the longer she sits.

Planning a tour is hard. Harder without Aether around to help. It’s all logistics and phone calls and numbers and a calendar so tight Cirrus is sure one tiny misstep will throw the whole thing off.

The work never ends, and Copia who is usually exuberantly helpful is distant. Tired. Worried about something. Cirrus has found him more often than not in his room playing that ancient video game system looking at the corners of his room like he’s seen a ghost.

He’s crankier than she remembers. More sarcastic. She doesn’t mind that so much except that it’s out of character. She knows the tension is from the upcoming tour. Knows things are at stake. Everyone can feel it. And once they’re on the road it will ease. Being on the road is easy, fun. Exhausting but overall they are all their best selves when they have a show to look forward to.

These last couple weeks before they set out will be torture–already have been. Cirrus has a million things she should be doing right now that aren’t lounging in the bath with Cumulus.

But she really can’t be fucked to get up and do any of them. And, even if she wanted to, Cumulus would never let her.

Cirrus kicks up a purr as she relaxes, eyes slipping closed as Cumulus dances her fingers over Cirrus’ thigh, drawing patterns on smooth skin. Cumulus dips her head to kiss Cirrus’ hair.

“Feel better?”

Cirrus’ answer is a low hum, confirmation. “Can I make you feel even better?”

Cirrus nods. Cumulus’ hand slips a little higher and Cirrus lets her legs fall open further. Knees pressed to the sides of the oversized tub. She loves this tub. Loves every tub in the Abbey honestly. Nearly big enough to swim in. Built for holding multiple ghouls at a time. The depth of it keeping her and Cumulus fully submerged. Cirrus turns her head, braces her temple against Cumulus’ shoulder.

She kisses the damp flesh. Tastes roses, smells sun dried linen. Home.

Cumulus slides her hand higher. Pets a finger over Cirrus’ slit, gentle but not teasing.

“I learned a new trick.” She hums into Cirrus’ hair.

“Show me.” Cirrus says, angling her head up just enough to kiss Cumulus’ neck now, up over the soft line of her jaw. .

She loves it best like this. No urgency. Allowed to just melt into Cumulus, to stay there for hours. To be touched, to touch, with no expectation. Maybe she’ll cum, maybe she won’t. It doesn’t matter.

She feels the disturbance in the water before the bubbles touch her. Cumulus summoning air beneath the surface. Bubbles dancing over her inner thighs, the pace where her clit juts out just so from her lips.

“Fun.”

“Isn’t it? Gentler than fingers. Good to get you warmed up.”

Cirrus needs this. The warm up. Gentle fingers, bubbles, kitten licks. Time to let her body catch up to her brain. Time and indulgence and decadence. Another soft jet of air hits her, a little more this time, enough to make her twitch, to make her gasp.

“Do you like it?” Cumulus asks.

Cirrus nods, she lifts her head, and turns to kiss Cumulus. It’s thorough. Filled with the same lack of urgency as everything else. Just the desire to kiss. To taste. To feel each other. Cumulus replaces the jet of air with her fingers. The pads of her index and middle fingers dragging over the hood of Cirrus’ clit, spreading her a little, delving into her slick folds as they kiss. Slow and sloppy and decadent, and Cirrus can’t think of a single reason she will ever need to leave this bath.

Cumulus pulls away, she pulls her hand from Cirrus’ belly to guide her head back down, to press it to the slope of her breast. Cirrus’ jaw and cheek dipping into the water as Cumulus cards those wet fingers under the dark curtain of Cirrus’ hair to drag over her undercut. Freshly shaved and soft. Motions meant to soothe, fingers moving in time with the ones stroking through her folds.

Cirrus lets her eyes drift closed again. She lets a haze of comfort and pleasure drape over her.

“Don’t stop,” Cirrus mumbles, lips moving over Cumulus’ ever-steady pulse.

“Never.”

59 notes · View notes

bloodynereid · 6 months

Text

Reapers & Ravens

<< prev | chapter vii | next >>

pairing: jordan li x oc

tw: mentions of migraines, vic is basically in huge amount of pain the entire chapter lol, mentions of kissing, flirting, mentions of death, murder, mentions of withdrawal, canon typical violence, swearing, FUCKING RUFUS AGAIN (can this man die already?), mentions of the supe virus, mentions of torture and supe experimentation

description: the story of a girl. a girl cursed by compound v to live a life without touch.

a/n: can't believe there is only one ep left ahhh. hopefully you all enjoy this chapter even if vic continues to suffer. it took a while to figure out logistically but i'm happy with how it came out. lmk ur thoughts (my asks are always open) and yeah, i'm very excited for you all to see vic's growing powers and i just love jordan <33

The sun streamed through the diner’s windows and the cooling sweet sensation of a strawberry milkshake filled my mouth. I could still feel how puffy my entire face was, my eyes stinged from how much I had cried the night before, after we had dispersed from Dusty’s house. I had gotten a quick call out to my clean-up crew to transport the body to the nearest morgue as a John Doe. Dusty deserved a proper funeral with his parents and sisters, I didn’t want to just leave him lying dead in his house.

As I stared blankly at the walls of the diner I remembered the warmth that Jordan had encased me with as I cried and screamed and tried to forget the horrors. Now, all that was left was a banging ache in the back of my head. Symptom of going off my pills, I guess.

“Hey.” I turn slowly to look at Jordan’s eyes, which were filled to brim with something akin to compassion and worry. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just a little spacey is all. How are you?”

“Good, we- uh never had time to talk yesterday so-” Jordan’s sentence was cut off as Cate settled back into the booth and looked at us with a worried expression.

“Guys, Shetty can’t exactly meet right now.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jordan spat out and I carefully placed my hand in theirs and squeezed.

“Jordan…”

“Where is she?” Marie asked in a calm voice.

“In the city, she said she had a meeting so she should be back later.”

“So what do we do?”

“I’ll go meet her and then when she comes home, I’ll make her tell you everything.” That line created scoffing around the entire table, as a sudden pain shot through my skull. I pulled my hand away instantly from Jordan and squeezed my eyes shut. The conversation continued on around me as I started to feel every single exhale and heartbeat of the diner.

“Stay out of our fucking heads, then maybe we’ll trust you.” Jordan spat out as they switched before he stormed out of the room.

“Jordan!” I weakly exclaimed and started to get up as another wave of pain nearly made me collapse.

“Oh fuck.” Andre exclaimed as he grabbed me by the elbows and lifted me up, I felt my head lull forward.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Marie said and I looked up at her with a weak smile.

“Thanks.” She walked out of the diner in search of Jordan as Andre eased me back into the vinyl seat.

“Vic? Hey, what’s going on?”

“It’s the pills isn’t it?” Cate asked, making Andre and I turn to look at her. She was sending me a worried look and smoothed one of her hands across the table to clutch mine. The meeting of leather and warmth made a little spark of comfort appear in my brain.

“What, Cate? Vic, what is she talking about? Do you need me to get you something?”

“No, Andre, please don’t.” I said as I clutched my eyes shut. I have never gone so long without those damn pills. A cold sweat started to appear on my neck and a sharp exhale left my mouth.

“Cate? What did you do to her?”

“Andre. Stop. She didn’t do anything. Ah fuck.” The second I uttered those words I saw Jordan burst through the doors in my periphery.

“What’s going on? Fuck Vic.” I met Jordan’s eyeline and smoothed my other gloved hand over his cheek, struggling to make a weak smile appear on my face. The banging in my head got louder and louder.

“I need to lie down.” My voice came out in a tone so foreign to me it was almost scary. I sounded so frail and breathy, what the fuck was going on with me?

“Marie and I can get you back, Andre and Cate, you two go to Shetty’s house.” The couple nodded before Cate gave my hand a last squeeze and walked out of the diner. Jordan carefully held me up and I clenched my fists, hard. The pain was getting worse.

“Okay, okay, woah. Come on, Vic. Just a few steps and we’ll be in the car.” I nodded slightly and took a deep breath before starting to walk.

“Hey! Is she okay?” I heard one of the waitresses ask.

“Yeah, just a migraine.” Jordan answered briskly as they pulled the door open and I stumbled out into the bright daylight.

“Oh that sucks! Have a good day though.”

“You too.”

“Jordan… it’s too fucking bright.” I said, with a pleading tone lacing my words.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

After the most excruciating half an hour of my life, Marie and Jordan basically carried me into my dorm and laid me against the soft pillows. Gemma was nowhere in sight, probably on her way to class or something. I fluttered my eyes open and watched as Marie and Jordan had a hurried discussion before Marie left with a soft wave and a ‘get better soon’.

“What was that about?” I slurred out, trying to move my head to stare at Jordan as another stab of pain rang through my head. Ugh.

“Marie is just going to check out Shetty’s office.”

“Why didn’t you go with her?” Jordan’s eyebrows rose as an incredulous expression crossed her face.

“Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself? You look like you’re on the edge of death.”

“I feel like it.” I said, snorting slightly. Immediately regretting the action as sparks zapped. “Ow.”

“You see?”

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to take care of me though.”

“Hmmm sure, you’re my-” Jordan cut themselves off and looked down at me. I smiled slightly, but it must have looked more like a grimace because Jordan instantly got up and started searching the room for something.

“What are you looking for?”

“Uh water.”

“Jordan, hey come back here.” I said as I pushed myself up from my lying down position. The effort seemed to momentarily make me black out but the second I came to, Jordan was sitting in front of me with an expectant look on her face.

“What’s up?”

“What exactly were you going to say before?”

“I- uh. Oh fuck it okay so I umm want to make us official. I want you to be my girlfriend. I really fucking like you and you’re stunning and smart and I know this is probably the worst time to mention this.” Jordan stuttered out, a smile blossomed over my face and forgetting about my migraine thing for a moment, I extended my gloved hand and Jordan quickly took the opportunity to clench it lovingly.

“You are a fucking wonder, Jordan. It would be an honor to be your partner, Jordan.”

“Fucking hell, I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“God me too.”

“Well when we figure this all out, I’m going to recreate our night together in so many more creative ways.” She said with a flirty smirk appearing on their face.

“Jordan!” They laughed and I stopped myself from joining in as another surging pain appeared in my skull.

“Okay we need to do something about this. Do you know how to fix it?”

“Take one of my Vought pills.” Jordan instantly pulled a face.

“Ok you’re not doing that… it’s almost like- WAIT I have an idea.”

“Woah what are you doing?” I asked Jordan as they suddenly stood up triumphantly and started scrolling through her contacts on their phone.

“I know a supe, he can basically speed up the body’s healing process.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you’re exhibiting symptoms of withdrawal. He always used to help us when we had hangovers and shit so I thought it would help.”

“Oh. Fuck! You’re so right.” The triumphant smile that Jordan’s face held was now reflected on my own. Holy shit. I may actually be okay.

As Jordan started talking to whoever this dude was, I carefully slipped my phone off the bedside table and adjusted the screen so the light wouldn’t sear into my eyeballs. Carefully dialing my dad’s number I slipped back into the pillows with a hiss and waited. And waited. And waited. Only to be finally met with the tone of some overly cheery woman who was definitely not his latest assistant, who I already forgot the name of.

“Hi! You’ve reached Adrian Oaks’ phone. How can I help you?”

“Put him on now, I know he’s there with you.”

“Oh please don’t take that tone with me-”

“Fuck you. I need to speak with my father.” After a few seconds of rustling, the baritone of my father’s voice filled my ear.

“You really shouldn’t speak to people like that, Vicky, it’s rude.”

“Oh go fuck yourself dad! I remember it. I remember everything, you sadistic cunt!” I basically screamed into the phone’s speaker, vitriol spilling over my words like poison.

“Now, now Vicky. I never-”

“Don’t you dare deny it. And don’t try to inform anyone, not Vought, not Shetty, NO ONE. Stay out of my life, dad.”

“But- yes, fine Victoria. If this is how you want to be, but remember this is really your fault. You did kill-” I quickly ended the call and blocked his number before throwing my phone towards the end of my bed. Jordan settled down next to me and laid his black hair against my pillow, before turning over to face me.

“Fuck my dad.” I said first, breaking the vaguely tense silence.

“Fuck your dad. You ready to go?” They asked as a hand came out to trace spirals on my clothed arm.

“I have to move?”

“Yes, you big baby. Come on.”

“Fuckkk.” Came out of my mouth as I slowly sat up and struggled to stand up, only for Jordan to instantly appear at my side to steady me. “What would I do without you?” I uttered out, making a flirty smile appear on Jordan’s face.

“I don’t know how you would function, darling.”

“Fuck you!”

“You already did that.” An outraged gasp left my body as I started smacking Jordan, only for him to laugh and start making their way to the door, basically carrying me.

As Jordan pulled open the door, a strange gust of cold air hit us and I peered through the doorway to find that the hallway had basically been transformed into a slip and slide but with ice.

“What the-” Someone whizzed past on top of a piece of cardboard, loudly shrieking with a bright smile on their face.

“Yo Jordan, Vic! Why don’t you join us?” The frustratingly familiar voice of Rufus called out from down the hallway. The fucking audacity.

“Really, Rufus?” Jordan asked sarcastically as he slipped a protective arm around my middle as we ventured out into the snow covered hallway. I concentrated on my feet to make sure that I didn’t slip, with how fucking unstable this migraine made me I would probably fall to my death if I made a wrong move.

“Ok fuck you, I was just being courteous.”

“I don’t think you have ever or will ever be called that in your life, Rufus.” Jordan uttered as a group of supes split open to let us through.

“What’s wrong with Vic?” Rufus called out.

“Migraine.” I weakly said at the same as Jordan uttered:

“Go fuck yourself!” A stabbing pain now ran through the length of my body, it was getting worse.

“Can we please get there soon?” I whispered as I bit my lip, trying to stop the onslaught of pain with pain that I could control.

“Yeah sweetheart. It’s only a few more minutes.” I nodded as Jordan cradled me closer to them, with an agonized grimace on his face.

After what felt similar to the hours of gruelling torture under Shetty’s eyes, Jordan finally pushed open a dorm room door and sitting on the floor was a man surrounded by a variety of textbooks and a highlighter between his teeth. Looking up at the sound of the door his eyes grew wide at the sight of me and he pulled out the highlighter and swept a hand over his long brown hair.

“Hi, you must be Victoria.”

“And you’re the man who’s supposed to help me.” I said, earning a chuckle from him as Jordan carefully eased me to a sitting position on his bed.

“I’ll certainly try, I’m Atlas. Jordan sort of told me what happened but I’ll still need you to fill in the blanks.” I sucked in a breath of air through my teeth, this would mean going against dad’s explicit instructions. The phrase that Jordan had uttered a few minutes ago floated through my brain: Fuck your dad.

“I- well, there’s these pills that Vought has been making me take since forever. I’ve never really known why, I don’t even know what they’re doing to me… but everytime I try to go off them it’s like my entire body fights it. My head is fucking killing me right now.” I said, uttering the words quickly almost in the space in one breath. Jordan settled down next to me and squeezed my shoulder in an effort to comfort me.

“Shit, okay. Well I guess I’ll just try to fix the headache first. Would it be okay if I touched you?” Atlas asked as he brought he held up his hands, I instantly cringed - I hadn’t realized he could die if I did this.

“Uh, what about my powers?”

“You can’t control them?”

“I’ve never really been able to do that.”

“What about Cate? She’s been able to touch you before.” Jordan said, her statement making my nod and I heard a sigh come from Atlas.

“Cate is way stronger than me, but I’ll try. Close your eyes Vic.” Atlas ordered, I quickly shut my eyes and searched out Jordan’s hand, clutching it in nervousness.

I felt the contact of Atlas’ hands as he cradled my face. A cold tingly sensation started to spread through my body. My power had almost instantly succumbed to his. Weird. His powers almost felt like a soothing balm, a mix of eucalyptus and mint. After a few minutes he pulled away panting and I opened my eyes to see him rubbing his palms and looking at me in surprise. My headache had ebbed away, all that was left now was the emotional pain from the entire ordeal. Even my power felt less itchy than normal.

“Wow. What did you do?” I asked as a smile spread over my face, no longer hurting any of my nerves.

“I- well Jordan was partially right, your body was basically going through withdrawal but those pills… they were chemically changing aspects of your cells. Your power was basically being shackled almost. I could feel the Compound V in your blood fighting against the chemicals in your pills. No wonder you felt like hell.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you Atlas.”

“Of course, any time. You sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Still a little off but wayyy better than a few minutes ago.”

“Good, I’m glad. Now shoo, Jordan remember you owe me a favor.”

“Yeah yeah, Atlas. Thank you, really.”

“Of course.” Jordan quickly grabbed my hand and I waved at Atlas before shutting the door.

“Thanks for helping Jordan.”

“Well, I can’t have a sick girlfriend can I?” Jordan said as he squeezed my hand and we started making our way out of the building. Just as we stepped out into the sunlight and the loud calls of student protest, I heard Jordan’s phone vibrate. Fishing it out from their pocket, I saw the display flash with Marie’s name as Jordan accepted the call and put it on speaker.

“Jordan! Thank God you picked up. I found out a bunch of shit…”

“Hey Marie!” I chimed in from Jordan’s side.

“Oh my God, Vic how are you feeling? You sound better.”

“I’m way better thanks. What’s going on?”

“Fucking insanity. Shetty has been trying to make a supe virus, her and Dr. Cardosa are getting it to be more contagious. Her… daughter and husband died, I- I’m going to try and follow through with our plan Jordan but there’s too many damn security guards.”

“Wait, where are you?” Jordan asked as we started walking through the throngs of people.

“Right outside the doors of the auditorium that’s hosting Victoria Neuman.”

“Wait Victoria Neuman? Shit, this is what all of this is for.” Jordan hummed in agreement to me as they shifted and started moving more quickly through all the other students.

“We’re on our way Marie. I’ve got an idea of how to help.”

“Great, thanks. See you guys soon.” Marie ended the call and Jordan slipped their phone back in her pocket. We walked for a few more minutes until we finally spotted Marie.

“Marie, hi!” I yelled out and waved her over.

“Hi. Okay, are you ready?” Jordan nodded as a smirk appeared on their face again before turning over to me as Marie nodded and started making her way towards the double doors. “You trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Let’s go fuck some shit up.” A laugh bubbles out of my throat before I follow Jordan towards… the fucking girl who made that video about Emma. A rage started to build up in my hands. Oh this was so on.

“Hey!”

“You were that girl who fucking tortured Emma.” Jordan remarked with a sarcastic smile on their face.

“Oh no, I just gave her a plat-” Before she could even finish her sentence Jordan used their powers to punch her. A reverberation echoed through the entire throng of students. Jordan started to turn around when some random supe came at her. I stepped in between the two of them and placed a well aimed kick in the girl’s stomach.

That was when the absolute frenzy began. I had the advantage because every time a punch landed on any of my exposed skin, I instantly started to absorb that person’s life force - this made each supe wrench their hands away quickly and stubble back. Almost completely defeated.

After a few seconds of intense squabbling I felt a familiar hand grab my covered wrist and pull me away from the group. I turned to Jordan as we quickly fled the scenes, giggling in glee. I also felt so much more energized. The powers of three or four supes filled my senses and I felt so fucking free for once.

“You do realize that probably fucked up our rankings right?”

“Well, it’s not like rankings really matter all that much anymore, this school is quite literally trying to kill us.” Jordan said, making me snort and nod in assent.

After grabbing a milkshake from Vought-A-Burger, Jordan and I started to roam around campus. Watching as the protests continued and just trying to process what was going on. He also kept asking how I was doing, and I kept answering that I felt great. It seemed like Atlas actually fixed whatever the damage the fucking pills had caused over the years.

“Jordan! Vic!” We swiveled around to see that Emma was frantically waving us down. I jogged over to her, Jordan following closely behind.

“Woah Emma, calm down. What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Sam?”

“Oh shit.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? No, where the hell is he?” Jordan muttered, sounding completely exasperated. I understood that feeling exactly. What if something happened to him? He could be back in there… fuck, fuck fuck.

“I- I don’t know. I told him to stay in my dorm and- shit there’s so much security here. What if they found him?” Emma said quickly, tripping over her words and sounding more and more freaked out by the second.

“Then we’re in deep shit.” I said as I pushed a hand through my already messed up hair. This is bad. This is really, really bad.

“Ok, he’s got to be okay. Fuck, umm.”

I started twirling around and looking through the sea of people, trying to spot Sam’s familiar figure. The supes’ powers I stole had already faded and honestly none of them would have been of any use right now.

“Sam, Sam.” Emma uttered in awe, Jordan and I turned to look at the place that Emma started running off to. There stood Sammy… with Randy. When the fuck did they meet each other? After we watched them discuss something for a few seconds the couple ventured over to us and Sammy smiled at me.

“Oh my God, Vics! You actually look alive.”

“Haha, very funny, Sammy. You nearly gave us a heartache.”

“We have to get out of here now.” Jordan said with a worried tone in their voice. I nodded and Emma started to softly pull Sammy away from the crowd. I cuddled up to Jordan as we quickly walked out of there.

I felt the hot concrete make contact with my sneakers as they beat against the sidewalk. Just a few minutes ago, we had all gotten a text saying that Cate had Shetty. It was time. Approaching the slightly open front door I sent a nervous glance which mirrored itself in Jordan’s eyes. Something was up.

Surprisingly enough Shetty’s house didn’t look like some kind of evil lair, instead it was cozy. The paint on the walls was inviting and each piece of furniture looked worn-in nicely. It felt like a home.

When we finally found the pair, I started to pull off my gloves as I watched Shetty standing immobile in the living room with Cate. My teeth meet the creamy leather of the fingers of my gloves after I undid the buckles. It was a precaution, okay?

“Catey, are you okay?” I asked as I walked steadily over to the blonde, she smiled at my much healthier state.

“Hey, Vic. You look so much better.”

“Yeah, I feel it… oh shit, your eye?”

“Oh it’s nothing, she uh will tell you everything you want to know.” She said the last part of her sentence towards the rest of the group.

“Maybe you should get some rest? Lie down, maybe.” Marie chimed in, she had an uneasy tone weaving through her words.

“I feel absolutely fine, it wasn’t my powers which were fucking me up. It was those damn pills.” I could feel my eyes spark with rage as I got closer to Cate and smiled in sympathy.

“Hey Cate, listen to your friends, they care about you.” I turned to look at Shetty with a cruel twist of my lips.

“Do you even know what those pills were doing to her, to me?” I asked sarcastically before a soft hand held me back by my shoulder. Cate nodded in understanding when I turned to her before her gaze focused back on Shetty.

“Exactly! Now you had your chance to fucking talk, so how about you shut up and let us do some of it for once?” Cate burst out, making a triumphant smile blossom on my face.

“Please, Cate. I love you. You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh I know you love me but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a fucking bitch.”

“Cate, what the fuck is going on?” Jordan said, I almost forgot they were in the room. I turned to look at them as he watched Cate with a calculating look.

“Don’t worry, we’re on the same side, I promise.”

“Wait- uh can I just get like a quick Wikipedia summary of what you guys are talking about? Cause I’m really fucking lost.” Emma said from behind me.

“Tell them what you told me.” I listened with growing horror as Shetty explained the horrors that GodU had inflicted on young, innocent supes.

“I want it to spread across the globe, and kill every single one of you.” Fuck.

“Holy fuckkkk.”

“We don’t want to hurt anyone, you should know that.”

“Don’t you dare lie, tell her.” Cate said, basically spitting out the words.

“Homelander.”

“Wait what does this have to do with him? He like murdered one Starlighter at a press conference, not that that was absolutely horrible. But I feel like you’re taking it a bit far.” Emma said, I could feel my brain trying to work out the correlation but instead I felt my powers rev up. There was no stabbing pain this time, instead it felt like they were trying to reach out beyond the confines of my body. What the actual fuck?

“It’s the plane. Homelander killed your family.” Marie said in a horrified tone as realization overcame all of us.

“It’s not just him. Every single one of you leaves a path of destruction in your wake. You have ruined countless lives. Just look at what you did to your parents, Marie. And you, Victoria, do you remember all those bodies? All those lives lost just because you couldn’t get a handle on your powers.” I drew out a sharp exhale and stumbled back, my heart started to ache and with it my power was demanding blood. Just like all those years ago.

“But you never fucking helped! Do you think any of us asked for this?” I exclaimed, it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. IT’S NOT YOUR FUCKING FAULT.

“Oh I know you didn’t but still… it’s your species.”

“Tell them what your last assignment was for me.” Cate uttered as Jordan squeezed my elbow, probably trying to comfort me but it was taking all my self-control to not just grab his face and drain them dry. Ugh, what was wrong with me?

“To kill everyone in The Woods.”

“Holy shit, did you?” Jordan asked, horrified, from next to me.

“No! Of course not. That’s what I’m trying to show you, that she’s the fucking monster. She wants to wipe us off the face of the Earth. They all do, that’s why we have to make the first move. It all starts with her.” Cate said as she twirled around to face Shetty.

“Wait, wait, Cate make me forget. We’ll start over, I’ll take care of you.”

“Oh shut up, shut up, shut up. Shut the fuck up!”

“Cate!”

“Indira.” I saw as tears were streaming down Cate’s cheeks and it took all of me not to grab her and give her a hug.

“It’s time.” I watched as Shetty brought up a kitchen knife as a horrified gasp left each of us. Oh fuck. Well… Shetty grabbed the kitchen knife and pulled it along the length of her neck.

“Oh my fucking God!”

“No!”

“Don’t help.” Cate said as I saw her reach down and grab Marie’s hand. I exchanged scared looks with Jordan as he flew to help Shetty. But then a kernel of callousness made itself present in my brain. Did I really want to help the woman who had brought me close to death more times than I could count? Sure, she had her reasons but Cate also had hers.

“Cate…” The blonde turned to look me in the eye and I brought an image to the forefront of my mind for her to read. A slight twitch of her lips and a nod broke me out of my stillness and I collapsed to my knees in front of Shetty.

“Cate, you don’t need to do this! We have Neuman.”

“We can’t trust anyone, all they’ll do is betray us.”

“Please Cate, let me save her.”

“I’m sorry you have to live through this again.”

I blocked out the outside voices and focused on Shetty’s waning life force. I brought my exposed hands closer to my face and I saw as she looked at me pleadingly. I could almost hear her asking me to make this stop.

“It’s okay, I’ll make it peaceful. I promise.” As Jordan heard my words, he looked at me slightly horrified but then their expression changed to one of understanding.

Dropping my exposed hands onto her face, I felt her life seep into mine. Without the pills I felt unchained and unfettered. Shetty died a few seconds later, feeling nothing but the shared euphoria that I seeped into her in return. Her energy and memories hit me like a freight train the second that she departed this world and went into the next.

Waves of pain, sadness and deep rage filled me to the brim, making me wrench my hands away and making a scream tear itself through my very soul. What was happening? Why did this feel so… heavy? This hadn’t happened before… the pills OH. I suddenly could feel a chorus of voices in my brain. Crying out for help. Some felt like they had been there for years.

“Vic?” I heard a familiar call of my name cut through the noise. Why did it make me feel all fuzzy? It didn’t make sense. A moment later I felt darkness envelop me and I felt myself fall through the vat of voices. Souls calling out into the void.

i don't give this girl a moment of peace do i? anyways pls lmk if there are any grammatical errors, i only looked over this twice so there may be a bunch of mistakes i missed. sry for that lol. hope you enjoyed <33

taglist: @neapolitantoebeans @scorchedfangirl @losers-club6 @vvyuqi @bubblebuttwade @fix5idiots @ponypickle @nellyboosworld

68 notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 15: Roleplay(The Perfect Girl)

warnings/kinks: roleplaying, cunnilingus, teacher x student fantasy, usage of the terms "senpai" and "kohai", innocence kink pairings: Kyojuro Rengoku x Fem!Reader word count: 1.4k tag list: @beneathstarryskies, @ricflairdrip20, @witchofcustom, @loki-love, @xailem, @the-eternal-sunflower

You weren’t sure you had heard him correctly at first. The words had come out of his mouth with just as much gusto as anything else the flame Hashira said, but these weren’t the words you were used to hearing. Kyojuro had mentioned doing something different in the bedroom to spice up your sex life(not that it needed to be any more spiced, but this man is all about fiery love), and you thought for sure he had meant something like blindfolds or silk scarves to keep you bound to his bed.

“R-roleplay?” You ask him, and he nods happily.

“It’ll be fun! Trust me!”

You couldn’t argue with his logic. It would be fun and you’ve trusted him before, and he’s never let you down. So you sit down with him at the kitchen table and you begin discussing the logistics of this sexual act. Kyojuro wants you to pretend to be his little student. He wants you to pretend to be innocent and unknowing about sexual things. You’re a little aroused just discussing it. You think about it for a few days, trying to set up the proper time and date for something like this.

One night, while you’re at home and Kyojuro’s out of the house for work, you decide it’s the perfect night to prepare for this. You take a long, warm bath. You doll yourself up for him, but you keep it all an innocent look. Then you take one of his old haori and you get ready. When he comes in through the door, he calls out for you. You pitter-patter down the hallway and greet him with a bow.

“Good evening, Rengoku-sama! Welcome home, senpai!”

Kyojuro looks at you with wide eyes, “O-oh! Good evening, my little kohai.”

Your cheeks redden, “Dinner is almost ready. But first, I think a sparring session is in session.”

You take his hand and guide him towards your garden in the back of the home. He follows you, clearly enjoying this. He mentions how nice the cool breeze is outside and how the wind blows around your haori, and it’s very eye-catching. Of course, you’ve never been a demon slayer yourself. You’ve only helped Kyojuro once when he came to your village to save you. After that time, Kyojuro hated the idea of you fighting demons. Only he would be the one to do that. He is the flame Hashira after all. He knows what he is doing.

“I’m glad you’re home now. I’ve been practicing all day long,” You mention, hoping to get praise from your husband.

“Hmph, is that so?” Kyojuro asks, and he removes his haori and places it on one of the benches. “We’ll just have to see if you’ve improved.”

You remove your own haori and get into a fighting stance you’ve seen demon slayers take often. You are sure that your husband wouldn’t go too hard on you, all things considered. But you see the fire that’s often present in your husband’s eyes and you’re a little worried now. Maybe you might be in over your head.

But when he comes rushing over to you, he isn’t rough with you. His movements are so graceful, and though you are sure you’ll have a few bruises, he isn’t hurting you at all. Kyojuro has always known that protecting people is the most important thing, but you are so in awe of him not even hurting you as you pretend to spar. Eventually, you try your best but it is not enough. Soon, he has you pinned to the ground and your little heart is racing in your chest. You have him right where you want him.

“S-senpai! You won!” You let out, and a little giggle follows.

Kyojuro smirks, “I bested you, my little kohai. I deserve a reward, don’t I?”

You swallow hard, “Oh! Of course. What would you like?”

He doesn’t answer you, instead he leans in to kiss you. You squeak softly at this, as you are still playing your role as his innocent little student. You moan as he deepens the kiss. Your little panties are getting more and more soaked by the minute.

Kyojuro pulls away, “I’m so sorry, kohai. I shouldn’t have.”

Your eyes widen, “N-no! It’s okay, senpai. Really…it actually felt good.”

“Do you even know what it meant for me to kiss you like that?”

Your eyes widen once more, and you shake your head “no”. Kyojuro grunts and his cock twitches in his pants. This is almost too good. He knows he’s the one who desired this little fantasy, but he is now unsure how he could even last long if he fucked you while you’re acting like this.

“I want you to kiss me again, senpai. Please.”

He’s almost speechless. “We shouldn’t…”

But this time, you reach up to press your lips tentatively onto his. It’s such a sweet gesture, and it makes him so much harder than before. Kyojuro can’t take it anymore. He has to have you. He’s been waiting all day to see his cute little wife, and now you’re out here with him playing out his wildest fantasies.

“You’re such a sweet little kohai,” he mumbles between kisses. “Can I show you something else that will be fun?”

You tilt your head in confusion, “like what?”

He grunts, “I’ll make you feel so good.”

He knows he needs to buy himself a little time. If he were to bully his cock into you right now, he’d blow his load much too quickly. It would prove to be too much. But if he licks your little pussy, at least he can pleasure you and make you cum first. That way if the love making ends in premature ejaculation, you’ve still been pleasured.

Kyojuro smiles, “I’m gonna lick your little pussy.”

“That’s naughty, senpai. Are we allowed to?”

He stifles a moan, “Of course. I’m your senpai. I’m doing something to help you.”

You bite your lower lip and hum to think about it. You can feel yourself growing more aroused with each moment that passes by. Finally, you nod your head and voice your consent. Kyojuro’s eyes roll back at just the thought of doing this to you. He’s careful to begin undressing you from the waist down. With every piece of clothing gone, he coos gently and soothes you through the whole thing.

“You’re so wet, my little kohai. Does your senpai turn you on?”

You blush, “Y-yes. I know it’s naughty, but I really like you.”

His heart is ready to burst out of his chest with love, “You are a sweetheart.”

He kisses you softly and then he gets between your thighs. Kyojuro spreads them even further, and you’re trying to hide yourself for a minute to keep up with the charade. He reassures you that you are beautiful, and this settles you. You uncover your pussy and he’s practically drooling at the sight of it. There’s a little slick dribbled out of you and it is connected to your inner thigh.

“I’m going to lick you now, little one.” He says, before he leans in.

Nothing could prepare you for the softness and yet firmness of this first lashing of his tongue. It’s unbelievably good. Kyojuro has eaten you out plenty of times, but it would seem that while you are in character, it just becomes something different. Especially for the both of you.

“Oh! Senpai, it feels so good!”

Kyojuro moans against your sopping pussy, “It tastes good.”

You can feel your whole body turning rigid as he laps at you like a starved man. Between that and him sucking on your clit, he moans the sweetest things about you. Neither of you break out of character, not even for a second. Kyojuro laps at you expertly, bringing you so close to your orgasm so quickly. You can feel your thighs shuddering.

“Somethin’...somethin’ funny deep inside of me,” You whine.

Kyojuro grunts, “cum for me. Let go for your senpai.”

And that’s all it takes for you to fall off the edge. Your eyes roll back and you cry out his name. Your thighs are clenching around him, almost suffocating him. But he loves every moment of it. He eagerly licks up all your juices and prolongs every moment of pleasure. Finally, when you come down from your high, Kyojuro pulls away.

He sits up on his knees and unbuckles his belt. His hands move to take his cock out of his pants, and you watched him with dazed eyes. You aren’t sure what he expects you to do now.

“Come here, kohai.” He beckons you closer as he strokes his erection, “time for me to show you how to pleasure your senpai.”

#bacon.writes #kinktober 2022 #kinktober day 15 #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #rengoku x y/n #kny rengoku #rengoku x reader #rengoku smut #demon slayer #de #demon slayer smut #kyojuro rengoku x reader

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lucyandthepen · 9 months

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(give me that) can't sleep love | cyj

you’ve been managing yeonjun flawlessly for a few good years now, but there are just some things you can’t keep under control. the obvious solution? a blind date that skews towards the unexpected.

pairing: solo idol!yeonjun x reader rating: T genre: romance warnings: none! like the narrative has a swear word like idk once? word count: 3.5k

author’s notes: yeah it’s not actually valentine’s day but we write for a completely new fandom because we simply have no restraint !! just kidding, i’ve actually been hoping to extend my writing for other groups, but i haven’t yet because i’m extremely slow and a bit fickle. this is my first time writing for anything txt, but i hope to do so a bit more in the future!

if you like it, please consider reblogging to help spread the word!

Maybe your mom was right. Maybe the entertainment industry just isn’t for you.

She’d actively warned you against dedicating your time to, well, anything involving the glitz and glam, but you just hadn’t listened. There had been good opportunities, great experiences you’d never get anywhere else. For the most part, your choices had helped that expectation become that reality; you’d met people not just anyone got to meet, and you’d definitely had a substantial amount of unique encounters.

Still, you were aware that the only reason you’d ever gotten the chance to taste a little bit of the high life was because you had Yeonjun on your side. Choi Yeonjun — the rising star of the idol world, with a better career trajectory than the guy who owned Apple, it seemed. His job was the access pass to everything you enjoyed. Unfortunately, your ticket to all the good things was also the key to your prolonged misery.

As his manager, you have a ton of roles to play — logistics coordinator, scheduler, alarm clock, wardrobe checker, and, on one unfortunate incident, last-minute make-up artist when the original girl had been a no-show. You were supposed to be busy at every turn, but Yeonjun on the job was something of a well-oiled machine, learning how to feed himself while you were on the phone and follow the line-up to the letter as long as he was awake enough to do it. It’s possible you could blame him for all the downtime you got that had led to the bulk of the problem.

Actually, you aren’t sure when it started or even how. Maybe it had happened somewhere in the middle of all his showcases and shows, sandwiched between the constant fever of communication and movement. Maybe it had come up in those hectic car rides where you’d spent a ton of time reminding him of what to do and what to expect. Or maybe it had grown with every time you had to wake him up in one of many lonely hotel rooms, with his head half-buried in the pillow to muffle the sleepy groans he’d use to respond to your soft voice.

Whenever it was, all you could be sure of was that you liked him. A lot. Maybe even with the time you’d come to know him, after all these years, a part of you was ready to say you loved him.

But that was the biggest barrier in the job, wasn’t it? Managers are supposed to stop their idols from dating, not want to do it with them. For the most part, you’ve been successful in holding yourself back from doing something stupid, which is technically the bare minimum for you. These days, though, you aren’t sure what it is; maybe you’re just on edge from all the work in this year’s promotional stint, and that kind of contributes to a weakened mentality, or some kind of wack explanation like that, but you find yourself more often losing your train of thought when you’re with him. Even without detailing the specifics to your friends and co-workers, they’ve noticed something was bothering you. They’d urged you to relieve yourself of your duties a little, maybe hire a co-manager to do all the menial stuff, but you know that’s not really the issue. Only one person — Sunyoung, Yeonjun’s wardrobe stylist — had managed to hit the nail on the head semi-accurately.

“Look, I get it,” she’d said one evening, after she’d shooed Yeonjun out of the dressing room so he could strap on his in-ear piece and prepare for the stage. You were supposed to be running around like a headless chicken, making sure everything was in check, but you were just slumped on the couch in the dressing room playing some dumb shark game your nephew had downloaded onto your phone. “You’re tired. You’re lonely. You can’t even go out for a cup of coffee without worrying about Yeonjun. But he’s fine. You can relax a little.”

“I’m totally relaxed,” you’d mumbled, watching your shark devour a poor surfer on your screen. “I’m fine.”

“Then you should get out more. Leave all of this behind and meet new people. Go on a date. Listen,” she’d covered your phone with her palm, and you heard the telltale music of your game coming to a bitter end. “Do something fun. Go on a date, seriously. I can set you up. It doesn’t even have to be anything serious, ____________! Just do something not work-related for once next week, and get this toxicity or whatever out of your system.”

You didn’t have the heart to say no or the courage to admit that nothing really would happen if that date wasn’t with Yeonjun, considering how far gone you were, so you’d just agreed.

Sunyoung had set you up for a Valentine’s Day date. Ironically, while the point was supposedly to get your mind off of Yeonjun on that day, he had a scheduled fan sign in Sinchon that you couldn’t miss out on. You had to pack an extra set of nicer clothes and a make-up bag that Yeonjun had eyed questioningly but silently as you’d entered the van.

“So how long is this fan sign?” He’d asked instead, immediately turning his attention to his phone the moment the van had started moving.

“Until six.”

“Then I don’t have another schedule, right?”

“No.” You don’t really ask why he’s curious; Yeonjun enjoys his personal time, as any celebrity does. “You’re free after. The van can take you home, or wherever else you need to be.”

He’d hummed appreciatively, fixated on his phone, and the rest of the ride is consumed in silence until you’d arrive at the venue.

Yeonjun is whisked immediately into hair and make-up, and Sunyoung emerges from his dressing tent a few moments after he disappears inside, portable clothes steamer in hand. “Hey; did you get my text?”

You shake your head; you’d spent the car ride irresponsibly ignoring your phone, opting to gnaw on one of your nails instead.

“I sent you the details of a reservation slot in this nice Italian place near Dongdaemun. Just drop my name and they’ll lead you to the table.”

“Look, I don’t really know if I want to do this,” you mumble sheepishly. “Blind dating isn’t my speed.”

“Just go. It’ll be fine. If you don’t like him, you don’t like him. Just give it a shot. If all else fails, just enjoy the pasta,” she’d said with finality, bopping the nozzle of the steamer on your shoulder as she walks away.

Yeonjun is out of the dressing room in twenty minutes, and even then, you’re not sure why it takes that long. You’ve consistently held the belief that Yeonjun doesn’t need make-up to look good, and you can hardly tell when he has it on, anyway. Still, it’s nice to see his stylist pushing his hair up into a neat, tiny quiff, and he’s changed from his standard white tee and jeans to something that resembles a casual suit. You guessed they did it for Valentine’s Day — emulating the coveted boyfriend look, and all that.

“How do I look?” He asks you, right before you lead him onstage. His eyes follow your hand as you fix the front of his jacket quickly.

“Great,” you reply. “As usual.”

“So until six, right?” His mouth is lifting into a grin that you can’t really understand.

“Until six,” you confirm, now a little curious. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Not sure,” he looks down at you enigmatically. “It’s my off time, so we’ll see what happens.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you warn him, even though there’s no heat in your words. You know he’s not dumb enough to gallivant around doing things that will get him on Dispatch’s radar.

He just laughs, giving you a small wink before he hops onstage, taking two steps at a time. The voices around you are drowned out by the screams that ensue once his fans see him.

From then on, it’s just the same pattern for the next two hours — you, standing on one corner of the stage beside a guy from security, watching hundreds of girls in a line titter and scream and fall to their knees in front of the table where Yeonjun is seated at. They’ve all got albums in their hands, offering them to him reverently for a signature, and he takes them all good-naturedly, scrawling his name and some short, practically unreadable message somewhere around it while chatting with them about food he likes and what movies he’s into these days.

Since it’s Valentine’s Day, a ton of girls come with romantic gifts — flowers, chocolates, goodies baskets. One girl even brings a large teddy bear, plopping it down in front of him unceremoniously and scaring Yeonjun into accidentally miswriting his signature. You and the rest of his management team aren’t really strict about prohibiting gifts, but Yeonjun refuses all of them — nicely, of course, but to the disappointment of many fans. Every time he says no, he glances at you, like he’s worried you’re going to tell him off if he says yes. You’d wondered once before if he was just trying to pin the blame on you, but you know he’s not cruel like that. Today doesn’t make a difference; he rejects people with apologetic looks as he gives their albums back, and you can see their dejection as they trod off the stage. The teddy bear girl had left the toy by the stairs in her disappointment.

Yeonjun starts his closing ment at a quarter to six, and you tap the security guy next to you to remind him to bring him straight backstage after he’s finished before dashing off and ducking into the dressing room to change. You hear deafening cheers coupled with Yeonjun’s cute little goodbye! that signal the end of the fan sign, and you’ve just finished combing your hair back when Yeonjun walks in, idly patting his hair to see if everything is still in place.

“You look nice,” he observes casually, shrugging off his jacket. You try to avoid looking at him, even if his shoulders are so impossibly broad that you can’t really ever keep them out of your peripheral vision. “Do you have plans?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” you admit, unsure as to why you feel so guilty for saying so. You’re not dating, you have to remind yourself. And you’re allowed to go out after work.

“Meeting someone special?”

“I’m not sure. Could be. I don’t know who I’m meeting, if I’m being honest.”

His expression is unreadable; his fingers are twirling his marker in quick, hypnotizing circles.

“Well, have fun,” he finally says, moving to hang his jacket on the back of a chair. “You should take the subway or something. Rush hour, and all that.”

“Thanks for the tip.” His words sound pretty dismissive, but you’re not sure why you don’t just leave right away. Maybe you’re expecting him to say something, although it’s really more about what you wish he would rather than what he reasonably would, and he just continues to stare quietly, still toying with the Sharpie. “If you… need anything, just call. You know?”

“I know,” he replies simply. “But I won’t bother you on a date. That’s just plain rude.”

“I’ll still answer. You know you’re more important than a blind date.”

“Am I?” He looks amused. “Sounds like you take this job too seriously. Don’t worry about me. I’ll probably just go home after all. There’s a wildlife documentary I’m dying to catch.”

You’re pretty sure you hadn’t meant the job, but you don’t correct him considering how that would out you. “Okay. See you bright and early tomorrow. Remember you’ve got a radio interview at nine, so can you please not stop by Starbucks before you go home? Please?”

“Sure, sure,” he waves you and your nagging off, and you bolt out of the door, feeling kind of stupid and a little flushed.

You take Yeonjun’s advice and get on the subway, except the first two trains Dongdaemun-bound are full to the brim and you have to squeeze yourself into the car of the third train by elbowing a couple of annoying teenage boys. The other problem you run into is that the train station exits are a fair way away from your destination, and you aren’t used to running in heels. You clip-clop your way down the sidewalk and hit every red light for the pedestrian crossings, much to your ire. At one point, you stop in the middle of the crossing and consider just storming back to the opposite end of the road and going home, but the subway station is too far away for that choice to make sense at that point anyway.

By the time you get to the restaurant, you’re about fifteen minutes late and have to sit on the chairs for walk-in customers to give your feet a break. The guy at the front of the house has the decency to wait for you to catch your breath and even quietly point out that a lock of hair is stuck to your lip gloss before he asks if you have a reservation.

You nervously pick at your dress and comb the ends of your hair as you follow him. You notice someone is already seated at the table, back to you and looking over the menu. You think about all the things that you want to say — sorry for being late, have you been waiting long?, I totally understand if you want to just leave — but there’s a weird nagging in the back of your mind that grows as you approach the table.

Maybe Sunyoung had known you had a type, so to speak —lean, sharp, nicely dressed. Technically, that wasn’t such a difficult set of characteristics to find, but the fact that they were all rolled up into one package seated at your table, so similar to the guy you’ve pinned as ideal, was just kind of spooky. Even the fact that your blind date was laughing to himself at God knows what, alongside the fact that the way his angular shoulders moved up and down comically the way his would, isjust weird.

That, or…

All thoughts of apologizing fly out the window once you reach the table. All you can do is stare, your ears ringing and your fingers clutching your wallet tightly. Your mind has completely disconnected from reality, and the first thing that tumbles out of your mouth is loud and a little crude.

“Literally, what the hell?”

All the guy at your table can do is laugh harder, clearly because he’s Lee Freaking Yeonjun, and he’s finding this situation sidesplittingly hilarious.

“Yeonjun,” you hiss, your hand flying up and curling into a fist in an attempt to restrain yourself from grabbing him by the collar. “What are you doing here?”

It takes him another half-minute to sober down, and he’s still chuckling a little as he answers. “Waiting for my date, obviously.”

“Explain,” you demand, pointedly ignoring the looks couples from another table are giving you.

“Okay, but you have to sit down first,” he motions to the seat across from him. You pull it back and plop down onto it, gaze unwavering. He pauses, kind of dramatically, before continuing. “So there’s a set course meal, but I know you don’t like shellfish, so I thought—”

“I don’t want an explanation of the menu!” You shut your eyes, trying to block out the scene for a second. This can’t be happening. It makes no sense. “I want to know — wait, is this a prank?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“How are you here?”

“I took the van here,” he says, once again elusive. “I actually thought you’d get here before me, but then I realized you probably had to walk a long way. Sorry.” He has the decency to look sheepish at this point.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m on a date?” He shakes his head. “What’s not clicking, ____________?”

“Don’t sass me. Please. Do me that one courtesy, if nothing else.” He watches you down your water in one go, still looking politely amused. “Did Sunyoung put you up to this?”

“Actually, I asked her to rope you in.”

“Because?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” He looks incredulous. “Because I like you. I thought that was kind of obvious from the get-go.”

Nothing is making sense to you. Your head is starting to hurt a little, maybe from the situation, maybe from the cold water you’d drunk too fast. “How was it obvious?” You thought you had been kind of obvious, which was why you had attempted to stay distant and pretty aloof for the past few months.

“I listen to everything you say.”

“You have to,” you point out wearily. “That’s literally supposed to be our professional relationship.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have done it so well and so frequently if it were anyone else who were my manager,” he tries to reason, then continues when you look unconvinced. “And the gifts. I don’t take them.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t have a reason to not take them, technically. I just don’t because I don’t want you to think I’m accepting other people’s affections.”

“That makes no sense. They’re your fans, so that has nothing to do with personal affections. You’re terrible at this.”

“Okay, fine — but so are you!” His voice transitions into something a little accusing. “It’s not like you’ve been good at showing me you like me either.”

He pauses, and for the first time in your life, you see something cross his face — uncertainty, maybe, or anxiety.

“You do like me, don’t you?”

The fire of indignant anger fueled by your initial shock dies down, and you’re left feeling a little embarrassed now. The entire walk here, you’d been torturing yourself with the fantasy that you could be somewhere else with Yeonjun on a date, but now that he’s seated across you in the flesh, you have no clue what to do or how to react properly. You toy with your napkin, but you feel his eyes burning into you.

“Fine. I do, but,” you raise your voice a little at the conjunction; he doesn’t even take you seriously, choosing to look relieved instead. “But I’m not supposed to, Yeonjun. This is bad.”

“Why? We’re at an old people restaurant. No one’s going to recognize us.”

“Because I’m not supposed to go on dates with the idol I’m managing.”

“Be honest,” his bottom lip juts out. “Is that all you think of me?”

Your lips thin out into a tight line; it’s easy to say no if you’re cheeky like him, but you’re pretty sure it’s easier to fire a manager for dating off-bounds than it is to cut off an idol’s career for the same reason.

“Can’t we be, you know,” he points between the two of you. “Just us? Not manager and idol. Just you and me. Just for tonight. And we can see how it goes.”

You hate that you cave so easily. You hate that you know you do because you like him so much. Your hand comes up to your face, trying to rub the ache away from your temples. A small, triumphant grin is growing on Yeonjun, like he already knows what you’re going to say. It occurs to you that after all this time you’ve come to know him well, he may have reached the same level of familiarity with you as well.

“Fine,” you mumble, and he doesn’t even contain his joy, pumping his fist into the air embarrassingly. “Fine. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” he agrees. “Then we can see how it goes.”

When you finally decide to meet his eye, you can’t help but laugh softly. He’s looking a little smug, and you want to smack him, or maybe just kiss him a little, but you just nudge his foot under the table. It doesn’t do anything to faze that little shit-eating expression on his face.

“Don’t think this gets you off of waking up early,” you warn, but you never do get to threaten him effectively with just how soft your words are. “I’m still hauling you out of bed at seven.”

“As long as it’s you,” he grins. “And no one else.”

“Shut up,” you try to bite back your smile, ducking your head instead to look at the menu when you feel it growing anyway. “Order your food.”

You know he’s not looking at the menu even as you pretend to peruse it. Still, he falls quiet, eerily so, and you think he’s just staring until you feel something soft land on top of your hand.

Your eyes lift again to his face, and he’s still smiling, albeit a little more serenely, without that joking expression he’s practically trademarked. His hand squeezes yours tightly, and even when he loosens his hold, his palm never leaves yours.

“You really do look beautiful tonight,” he says softly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, _______________.”

#yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun scenario #yeonjun drabble #yeonjun imagine #txt x reader #txt x you #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt drabbles

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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 10 months

Text

“Anyday.” - Sunwoo

find more content here: the boyz masterlist ↬ summary: sunwoo hates to admit it, but you hold a very special place in his heart ↬ tags: school! au, eric and sunwoo are the captains of basketball club ;9 [captain! eric, vice-captain! sunwoo], han jisung briefly mentioned as a club member, gn! reader ↬ word count: 736 words

Sunwoo tucked his basketball under his arm and swung his bag over his shoulder, “You know, as seniors we ought to be more cohesive with our juniors. Should we plan a bonding day? Or maybe we can stay back after training? You know as leaders of our club we can be more friendly…”

Eric rolled his eyes, pushing in his chair whilst waiting for Sunwoo to hurry up. “Speaking of training, it is literally about to start. So if you’d stop yapping we’d be on our way--”

“Hold on isn’t that…” Sunwoo interrupted Eric’s lecture, brushing past him towards the classroom doors. “Kim Sunwoo I wasn’t done talking?!” Eric huffed and followed behind but Sunwoo paid no attention, for his focus was on you.

Why were you outside his classroom?

“Sunwoo.” You greeted him halfheartedly, arms locked in front of you. Sunwoo eyed you, playfully teasing “What are you doing here, squirt?” Eric stood nearby, sighing a little too loudly to signify his presence. Right, training was about to start.

You visibly stiffened at Eric’s exhale, “Are you headed home? I kinda need a ride.” Sunwoo tipped his head towards the basketball under his arms, “No can do. I’ve got basketball practice. And it’s gonna be quite a while.” Sunwoo didn’t miss the dejected look that flashed across your face as you tilted your head down.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, as if you wanted to say something more. Eric cleared his throat again and you quickly shook your head, “It’s okay then. Have a good practice you two.” As soon as you made that declaration, Eric took this opportunity to drag Sunwoo away.

Uneasiness settled in Sunwoo’s heart and he craned his neck to glance at you through the throng of students.

Why did you have to make him worried?

“I’m not going.” “Going where? Training?” Eric joked, but stopped when Sunwoo ceased walking. “Sunwoo, you…don’t tell me…”

“Captain Eric, I’m pretty sure you can handle one training without your Vice-Captain, right?” Sunwoo was already backtracking, and Eric exasperatedly threw out his hands, “Really? Really?! You do know our juniors are the noisiest bunch of children?”

Sunwoo waved as a reassurance, sprinting away, whilst hollering, “Just get someone leader-material, uhmm, Han Jisung! The logistics leader! I’ll make it up for the next practice!” He didn’t have the time to watch Eric’s mild breakdown.

Scrambling down steps 2 at a time, he ran with all his might to the bicycle bay. Hopping onto his bike, he easily whizzed through the crowd, spotting you from afar. A pang of relief surged through his body, for you were still fine (although you were slowly dragging your feet to the school gate).

“Yo squirt!” You flicked your head around, watching, surprised that Sunwoo was pedaling at full force. “Sunwoo?” He dismounted the bike, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, “Hop on.”

“Don’t you have practice? (Why are you here?)” You bit back your curiosity and Sunwoo patted the empty passenger spot behind his seat. “Nevermind that. You on the other hand look like you’re about to drop unconscious. Care to explain?”

“Just a headache. A bad headache” You added on when Sunwoo raised his eyebrow (it was as if he saw through your attempt to be alright) at your initial statement. “Yeah, that just proves my point about you looking sickly. Get on, squirt. I’m taking you all the way home.”

Sunwoo saw through your momentary hesitance and pulled you towards the seat, “Really. I mean it. You came to me, didn’t you?” The thought of you getting home faster and skipping the crowded public transport (which will aggravate your headache) won you over. Just like that, you two were on your way home.

“Sunwoo, did you really skip practice?” “Uh no? I wasn’t needed today. Today Coach wants to focus on the juniors.” He lied through his teeth, a line rehearsed and repeated on his way down. “Okay. Not because of me right?” Worry laced your words. Sunwoo almost cooed at how adorable you were in that moment. .

“You silly. Why would I skip practice?” He teased you (you smacked him real hard on the back), but his heart softened and added on, “You on the other hand have a knack for making me worried.” That seemed to perk you up and you held onto his waist tighter.

“Thank you Sunwoo.” “Anyday.“

#tbznetwork #ppumeonae-bigvibe #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz sunwoo x reader #the boyz kim sunwoo

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fanboymickey · 2 years

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Harrington’s got her | The greatest friend a girl could have

Summary: Reader and Eddie had been high school sweethearts and planned on being together forever. Instead, life had other plans and flipped reader's world upside down. Now reader finds herself becoming a single mother and possibly falling in love with her childhood best friend, Steve Harrington.

Word count: 1.3k

Warning: Angst. Teen pregnancy. Reader is 19 years old. Vecna and Eddie are both dead. Everything was solved at the end of volume two.

Pairings: Past Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader

Writers Note: Hi!! Here’s part two💛

Part 1

“You’re what now?” Dustin questioned.

“He’s not the father is he?” Mike asked pointing at Steve.

“How? That’s not possible.” Lucas exclaimed while sitting next to a shocked Max.

“First off, I’m pregnant Dustin like as in I’m having a child,” you sighed, “Second, no Mike, Steve isn’t the father, Eddie was,” you hesitated and your eyes flickered from mike to your hands and then to Dustin, “is the father and lastly,” you and Dustin exchanged a brief look of grief and then you shifted your gaze to Lucas, “It’s very possible.”

“I think it’s great that you’re expecting a baby Y/N,” Eleven smiled at Y/N.

“I agree, even though I didn’t know Eddie, I’ve heard stories and I know this kid will be just as cool,” Will added.

You and Steve thought it was best to tell the kids first and get that over with. You both knew they’d have a lot of questions. You and Steve had practiced answering questions and finding the best way to smooth it over to the kids.

Telling the older gang was harder, you knew that they would have a better understanding of the implications of your situation and how this’ll affect your future.

“Oh my gosh like a baby‌ baby and not like one of those creepy realistic dolls that they make you take care of in home economics class?” Robin rumbled on.

“Yes Robin, a baby baby like the kind Y/N will have to give birth to and have to take care of for the next eighteen years,” Steve clarified. You shifted around in your seat uncomfortably at Steve mentioning you having to give birth and actually taking care of this small human. Sure you got a job and started saving money to buy things for the baby, but you hadn’t really thought out that long-term logistics of having a child.

Nancy softly nudged Robin and nodded towards you, “How far along are you?” Nancy asked.

“About 15 weeks.” You bit your lip, looking down at your hands and avoiding making eye contact with any of them. You could feel Steve’s comforting hand on the small of your back. You looked up at him and gave him a small smile. He had given you a small reassuring smile before you had glanced back down at your hands that you were nervously fiddling with.

“Oh Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jonathan said while putting two and two together.

“D-did he know?” Nancy asked hesitantly trying not to make you upset.

“He couldn’t’ve,” Robin scoffed, “Eddie wouldn’t’ve done what he did if he would’ve known he’d have a kid,” she finished looking from Nancy to you and then to Steve to make sure she didn’t overstep any boundaries.

“Robin what the-” Steve began to say, but you cut him off before he could finish, “She’s right Steve, Eddie wouldn’t’ve done what he did if I only would have told him.” You felt the hot tears roll down your cheeks.

Robin bit her lip, “He would’ve been a wonderful father, Y/N.” Nancy walked over to you and pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry that he isn’t here for you or the baby,” she hesitated saying the word at first as she looked down at your stomach, where your hand was protectively placed, and then back up to scan your face looking for your eyes, “but you will always have us to help you.” She smiled nodding toward Steve, Robin, and Jonathan.

You knew in that moment that everything was gonna be ok because you and your baby had a group of friends that are now your support system, but no you knew at that moment that your baby would have a family, maybe not the one you always pictured, but it’d still be a beautiful one full of love.

Another month had come and gone, you were now 19 weeks pregnant and fully showing. It was pretty hard to keep it a secret anymore, especially from your mother’s noisy friends who kept asking about the father. Who was he? Where was he? They knew you had been dating Eddie, but because of his status compared to your own, they chose to ignore it, especially when you had been seen around town doing everything with Steve.

You still hadn’t found out the gender, but you knew that you’d want to know as soon as you could. You figured it’d help you plan better for the future. Today, you and Steve were going shopping to price out things and even buy a few of the main essentials.

You and Steve had driven out to Indianapolis to avoid the stares and questions that you’d both receive from people around town. You guys had found a small second hand baby store that Joyce recommended.

“Everything is so expensive,” you looked down at the price of a crib, “this is already one of my paychecks.” You had found a small oak colored crib that was in almost perfect condition except for a few small scratches here and there, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t cover up with paint.

Steve grabbed the price tag to look at the price, “Since when were babies this expensive?” He questioned.

“Uh since always,” you walked past him and started looking at baby blankets and stuffed animals. You picked up a small black cat, “You know these were Eddie’s favorite animal.” You said matter of factly to Steve.

“No, I didn’t but you should get it,” he gave you a small smile that vanished when he watched you put down the stuffed cat.

You sighed, “I can always come back for it, but for now I should probably focus on buying the essentials since they’re the most important.” You walked off to go find someone to help ring you up for the crib.

You and Steve sat in the driveway of your house, “Thank you again for coming with me, I know going baby shopping isn’t exactly your ideal Friday afternoon.” You said with a chuckle. If someone would’ve told you a few years back that Steve Harrington would be going baby shopping with you then you would have laughed and said that’s not possible.

“I told you that I would be there to help you, so here I am.” There was an awkward tension in the car. You found yourself staring into his eyes. Had they always had hints of forest green in them? Your eyes shifted to his lips and then very quickly back to his eyes.

“Uh, I should get going,” you said quickly and reaching for the door. Steve stopped you by placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Before you go I wanted to give you something.”

He shifted in his seat to dig around in the back until he found the tied plastic bag he was looking for, “here,” inside was the small stuffed black cat and he had picked up a green blanket that matched the cat's eyes, “They should have something that’ll never let them get lonely and a matching blanket so they’ll never get cold.”

You smiled at Steve with tears in your eyes, “thank you so much,” you pulled him into a tight hug.

“Of course, Y/N, I could see how much it meant to you,” He whispered into your hair, “and it was the least I could do for you.” He pulled away so you could get out of the car.

“You are the greatest friend a girl could ask for, you know that right?” You said as you grabbed the bags and closed the car door.

Steve stayed to make sure you got inside ok. As soon as you were inside the house, Steve silently cursed to himself. You weren’t the only one who had started having feelings for the other. In fact, Steve had always had at least the tiniest of crushes on you, but he didn’t let him admit that to himself until right now when he felt his heart drop as you called him the greatest friend a girl could have.

Part 3

Tag list: @khaylin27 @violetbendbackwardoverthegrass

If you wanna be added to the tag list for any of my works feel free to fill out a form here.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fic #steve harrington fic

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somatheking · 7 months

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Seven Nights At Soma's

In which in a sci-fi AU, you're the new communications officer at the Beach, one of Hatter's luxury space cruises. As part of your training, every day you receive tapes from an old employee explaining the ins and outs of the ship. However, it's not long until things start to sound... off.

Disclaimer: I mention several canon AiB characters in this, but rest assured that they aren't based on anyone's portrayal of them, only on my own interpretation.

Day 1: Slate 1 - 15/09/2023

Good morning! Or good evening, or good night. I’m not sure when you’re hearing this tape but I hope you decided to listen to it first thing after you woke up, mainly because it’s gonna help you get through the day.

First off, let me give you the obligatory greeting (I’m reading this from a card I’ve got right here, so don’t mind me if I sound too weird):

Welcome to the Beach! Combining classic elegance and cutting-edge innovation, our space cruises offer the latest in comfort, gastronomy, innovation, entertainment and onboard experience. Our new and improved spaceships are also pushing the boundaries of sustainable tourism, by employing robotic assistants as personnel so as to focus on environmental well-being and minimising waste…

Sorry, sorry, I had to cut that short because I’m starting to laugh. Assistants, more like ASS-istants, am I right? Haha, yeah, it’s a funny word.

Anyways, yeah, I’m supposed to give you a rundown on your new job, although it isn’t precisely new, is it? Hatter told me he was thinking of filling the vacancy with someone who already worked here, but since I’m the vacancy, I’m not sure whether he ended up doing that or he simply hired someone new. Still, I figured you’d need some help, so I made you these tapes. Seven, one per day, which would cover the amount of time we need to get out of the Milky Way and into another galaxy, and after that you’ll literally be on your own. Well, I’ve only just recorded the one, so maybe I’m here saying it’s gonna be seven but it ends up being three, I don’t know. I guess we’ll see! Man, I’m more excited about this than you probably are, haha.

As I told you before, I’m the guy you’re replacing. I was actually the ship doctor, but the previous communications officer left, so I had to replace him. Doing both jobs and only getting paid for one, which is pretty rough, but hey, we gotta do what we gotta do. You know how in the Barbie movie, Ken’s job was ‘beach’? Well, mine is doctor and comms officer, haha. I was actually friends with the guy that left, and I imagine I must’ve spent so much time hanging out with him that Hatter thought some knowledge passed on to me. I have to say, this ship mostly runs itself, so I didn’t have much trouble. And you won’t either!

Anyways, yeah, let’s talk about the elephant in the room and get it over with. You’re on a cruise where the vast majority of personnel are robots. It’s more efficient that way; as I said in the presentation, ‘environmental well-being and minimising waste’. There’s so many I’m not even sure I know all their names, but to be honest, they’re not gonna bother you much. So, how about instead we run over some of the people you’ll be working with?

First off, since you’re a comms officer, you’ll sadly have to keep in touch with Chishiya, who’s in charge of logistics. He’s, excuse my French, a huge ass bitch. Yeah, that’ll make more sense when you meet him, but mark my words, you’re gonna hate the guy. I did, so it makes sense that you will too. I don’t wanna keep talking about him, so let’s move on.

Oh, these aren't employees but I figure you could say hello to them since they're pretty nice. Arisu and Usagi are this couple who've been together for what seems like forever and they're so cute. You can feel the love radiating from them, it's like they were made for each other. They are so, so sweet; talking to them always brightened up my day. Sometimes I got claustrophobic here, and when that happened I usually went to them to cheer up. They… I don't know, this might sound stupid, but they reminded me that there's more things to life other than a job.

You also have Kuina, who is an absolute sweetheart. She’s head of security, but she’s always super willing to help out if you need anything and she isn’t busy. Fortunately for her, this is a pretty tranquil ship; problems rarely arise here, at least the violent types. There hasn’t been any fights breaking out in… months? Probably even longer, yeah. Between you and me, I think the passengers are scared of doing something illegal in the presence of robots. They think they’re gonna bug out or something and accidentally kill them. Boy, Five Nights At Freddy’s really did a number on you all, huh? But yeah, Kuina. She trains once every three days, which means you'll get to see her. I recommend you go talk to her, but be careful not to bother her while she's training! Talking to her impacted me a lot, made me consider a lot of things about my life, plus, she’s very welcoming and one of the best people here. A literal ray of sunshine.

Oh, God, it sounds like I have a crush, doesn’t it? Haha, no, no, it’s not like that. Well… no, not really. Now you’ve got me flustered, though. I guess I’m ending the tape here, then. I’ll see you tomorrow!

#monthlyAU001 #listen Chishi I'll never know how to tag this #love me the way I am #sci-fi AU

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scarletwinterxx · 2 years

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it’s yours - haechan imagine

i miss hyuck so yea here’s another scenario😭🥺💛 hope you like it! also stream beatbox!! what’s your favorite track of the album?

As always thank you for your support!

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

(gif not mine. credit to original owner)

‘Keep your eyes on the prize’ might as well be your school’s unofficial motto with the amount of times you’ve heard it ever since you started attending here. Everyone has a competitive side, you get that. And if there’s one person you would say is number one on this category it would be your bestfriend.

“What if you interview one of the team players? It’s the start of the season too. Get to show a bit more of them, I know someone who will gladly do an interview” Giselle suggested

“Who?” Renjun asks, beating you to it

“Haechan”

“How about no” this time you answer, rather quickly.

“It’s a good idea actually, for once you actually contributed something useful to this conversation” Renjun tells Giselle who wasn’t sure whether she should be happy with her friend’s comment but Renjun gives her a playful pat on the head.

“Uh hello did you hear me? I said no” you said to the two sitting infront of you, seriously considering walking out the room just to prove your point.

“Why not? It will be good for the school paper, if this one fancies the likes of our audience then the school will extend our funds until next year. That club is the new talk of the campus, go see what the hype is all about ” Renjun tells you, it’s not like you can do anything. He’s the Editor-in-Chief and in charge all in all so you kinda have to do what he says

“Does it really have to be him? Why can’t I interview the other members?”

“One, he’s the most popular member and co-founder. Ask him why he thought about starting an e-gaming team and all that, you know the drill. Two, we know the pull we’ll get when he feature him, audience will want to hear about him or them”

Renjun is right, like he always is but you’re not going down without putting a bit of a fight. “Then you interview him” you rebutted, already knowing what his next words would be. Atleast you tried.

“It’s your job. So no, you can do it. I thought you like him, why are you avoiding him now?” he had you there, you don’t want to look guilty so in the end you just agreed to take the job.

“I’m not, but does it really have to be him?”

“Yes, just think about the logistics of it. We interview Lee Haechan, the whole school will want to read our paper, more fundings for us next semester. Just keep your eyes on the prize”

There it was. The dreaded line. The meeting ended there, Renjun walked to his next class while you go to yours which you shared with Giselle.

“It’ll go okay, stop freaking out over it” Giselle tells you, sensing your worries

“I’m not freaking out, maybe a little bit. You know, Renjun knows how long I’ve liked this guy” you grumbled

“Yea we know all about your crush, why haven’t you talked to him is what baffles me. He’s literally the most extroverted person” Giselle adds, and she is right.

“We’re all different, he and you are the same. You can be friends with anyone you just met but not me. I overthink” It’s easy to meet him when you practically have the same circle of friends. At parties there’s a 90% you’ll bump into him, and an even bigger chance at campus. So yes you kinda did fall under the charms of Lee Haechan.

Where do you even begin to describe the character that is Lee Donghyuck?

Haechan to many, Donghyuck to his family.

Well for starters, if you ever hear laughter in a room there is a 90% chance he’s in there or most times even the center of it. A party is not a party if he isn’t there, a big mood maker. He’s a member of the soccer team, theatre club and the newest addition as of last year, e-gaming club. He even joined the table tennis club with Mark and Jeno on his second year for fun. Not what you will expect but he’s really smart; book and street smart. He’s the type of person whose presence you just get used to no matter how boisterous he could get. It somehow feels empty whenever he isn’t around.

He’s all A’s across the board.

He’s the star.

In short, what’s not to like?

At first, most of your friends were really wondering how it came about. You were more on the quiet side, likes to keep to yourself and has a very small circle of friends you keep close to you. You’re a listener rather than a talker. It didn’t make sense, but you liked him.

You like him.

On the few occasions you’ve talked to him, it was almost impossible to wipe the smile off your face. Either he’s really funny or you just really really like him. Renjun’s bet is on the latter.

When you first attended this university alongside your now bestfriends, you’ve already heard the name Haechan. He is the type of guy who would be friends with everyone on the first day. He has this certain charm no one can resist.

“It’ll be fine, he’s a cool guy you know. Won’t judge you if you stutter and make a complete idiot of yourself infront of him” Giselle says, trying or more failing at comforting you.

You’re sure he’ll be his usual dazzling self. What you’re unsure of is if you’ll make it out of the interview alive. Also this would be the first time you’ll talk to him with more than a hello and hi so you’re not sure if he’s going to be candid with you, what’s the point of doing the feature if he’s not going to be.

“That feature isn’t going to write itself” Giselle tells you from across the table, she said she was going to get some work done and hunted you down until she found you sitting in the library, too lost in your own thoughts.

“I know, I just don’t know where to begin or how to” the cursor on the blank word page is starting to bother you so you turn your attention elsewhere, “tell me about him”

“Huh?” Giselle asks, a bit confused by your request

“Tell me about Lee Haechan, if I can’t start the interview with him then I’ll ask those who are close to him”

“Didn’t Renjun say to interview the guy? not me,,,?”

Rolling your eyes at your friend, you slumped your back on the chair. Already feeling the headache forming. “It’s a new writing style I’m trying out”

She snickers at your poor attempt at making an excuse, but she let’s it slide

“Don’t you know him already? Why ask me?”

“You’re friends, we’re not. We don’t see him in the same light”

“What’s with you and seeing people in different lights?” she asks, instead of answering your question she just shoots one back at you. It’s a phrase you always say, she’s heard many times over she’s sure.

“You don’t really know anyone fully, there’s always a side you don’t show others. There’s sides you choose to show only to a selected group of people. the good, the bad, the dark, the light. It’s never all those”

“And which side are you showing me right now?”

“The one you can handle” shooting her a smile before turning your gaze back on your laptop.

“I’m sure I can handle it”

“I know you can, but like what if I make a fool of myself infront of him and say something stupid” You tell Renjun who was giving you a ‘I’m done with this’ look

“Just go with it. I’ve never seen you struggle over an interview ever. And you’ve interviewed Jung Jaehyun, Nakamoto Yuta, you’re making it too obvious you like Haechan” Renjun tells you

The truth was you made Renjun make the arrangement for the interview since you really can’t bring yourself to approach Haechan first. When Renjun told you he agreed to meet, you’re already 99% sure it’s going to be awkward.

“And if you make a fool of yourself in front of him, then I suggest go start liking somebody else” he manages to tease you, scowling at your friend

“You know, that’s not a very motivational thing to say. You’re not morally supporting me right now”

“Your morals are already askew anyways, even if I gave you a compass that only points North you would still trek the other way” Renjun says then stood up, taking his vanilla latte with him.

“Just do me a favor and don’t embarrass our team” rejun adds, standing up from his seat and taking the latte he ordered for himself

“I would never”

“Hey guys, am I late?” you don’t have to turn around to know who’s speaking behind you. You didn’t notice when he walked in but Renjun sure did. Letting out a laugh under his breath.

“I was just about to go actually, Y/N will be doing the interview with you, I’ll go now she’s all yours” he says before bidding goodbye and exiting the cafe.

“Hi”

After greeting each other there was a pause, like you were waiting for each other to continue but neither said a word. Haechan cleared his throat before speaking up again,

“I guess ask away”

“Right, uhm for legal purposes just know that everything we’ll talk about here would be published on the school paper for everyone to read. We don’t edit out the truth, ever, but please do keep it okay for the general public to read” you tell him, taking out your notebook where you wrote down the questions

“So, first question: why e-gaming?”

“Well I just thought it’s something I’m good at, plus the student council that year was thinking of new clubs to establish for the next school year. And the general public has an interest to it so why not”

“Do you think e-gaming is a distraction to studies in general?”

“No, not if you do it moderately and now how to manage your time. Most of our club members participate in other clubs, including myself. We made a rule that no member is allowed to have any failing marks or else they will be put on the bench until grades are back up again” you write down his words diligently, while Haechan watches you from across the table

“Did you anticipate the attention your club got? Since last year, your team received an ample amount of budget from the board after winning the tournament and taking home the championship trophy for our district”

“Yes and no, we knew people were interested. There’s a whole community online, it’s not like we built from the ground up. We saw the opportunity and grabbed it. No we didn’t expect to make it to the district meet, we used to only play for fun, to relieve our stress from too much studying. The funds we gathered last year were used for expenses whenever we have competitions outside campus, and whatever we win we donate to charity”

“What is it to you? e-gaming?”

“A short escape, stress reliever, bonding time. It’s silly to say but we don’t take it too seriously because that would take the fun out of it, we just do what we do. You know they say in order to master something you have to spend 10,000 hours doing it, but also I think we can only spend so much time on one thing without getting tired of it so I don’t stress too much about it. I just enjoy”

You run through the major events that happened within the club for the past year, asking about the tournaments they joined, the different people they meet, the members of the team and their dynamics within the group.

Surprisingly, the conversation went smoothly unlike what you expected. You ask the questions, Haechan answers. Maybe it’s because you didn’t let it get too quiet between the two of you, ready to jump to the next question once he finishes with the first one. But also because you’re the only one freaking out.

“Okay, that’s it for now. If it’s okay with you, can we get some pictures you have with the team from your last meet or during your practices if you have any” you inform him, finishing your notes

“If I have anything to ask further, I’ll just contact you” looking up to see him intently looking at you

“Are we off the records now?”

“Huh?”

“I mean will this part be also on the article?”

“No, we’re done. Thank you for doing this interview, for the pictures you can just email them to me I guess or Renjun”

Haechan wanted to ask if you wanted to stay and have a chat but you were already putting your stuff away. He heard stories about you from mutual friends, Renjun, Giselle even Jaemin who never speaks to anyone outside of the circle knows you. So he is a bit interested.

Haechan thinks there’s something endearing about you, maybe the way you’re so confident when it’s in a formal setting, how to deliver the questions eloquently. But the moment it’s done, you’re back to being your shy self.

He wonders if you’re really that way or is it because of him.

“Do you have any questions?” you ask him, already you can feel the nervousness creeping through. You didn’t to be too obvious so you hurry.

“None, if I think of any I’ll just contact you” he answers with a small smile, right then you could already feel the blush blossom on your cheeks

“Yea, thank you again for doing this feature”

Then there it was again, that silence between the two of you. Not a word is being said and yet it was the loudest in your head.

Not being able to stand it any longer, you bid a quick goodbye to him before bolting. Haechan didn’t even get to say his goodbye before you were dashing through the door.

“It’s actually okay, surprised you did it this fast” Renjun tells you as he reads the rough draft of your feature

“Why’d you say that? I turn things on time” you say defensively, making Renjun chuckle

“I meant talking to him, I thought you were going to bail out of it” he answers,

You wanted to say he’s right. You did want to call it off last minute, reason why you had to call him and make him wait with you at the cafe before the interview. You figured if Renjun was there you’d had no choice but make your self stay.

The whole time you were sitting across from Haechan, you were having an internal battle. Trying not to look like you’re freaking out, the perfect balance between actively listening to him and nonchalance.

Snapping out of your thoughts, looking beside you to see Renjun already looking at you.

“You okay?” he asks, uou nod your head and smile at your bestfriend.

Casting your feelings aside, you get your head in the game.

Instead of dwelling in your doubts, you focus on your goal for this semester; Finish that feature on the star player, Lee Haechan.

Your attention returning to your laptop screen, the imagine of the whole e-gaming club on your screen. All smiles while they hold the championship trophy from the last tournament they won. You can’t help the way your eyes linger on him longer, smiling at how happy he looked.

This feelings you have for him is completely one sided and you’re sure you’ll never get the courage nor the chance to confess. So you settle for this, you settle for the formal interviews, casual encounters in the hallways or the quick greetings at parties.

Looking at the picture one last time before clicking save.

“Think of this as that sign you’ve been waiting for” Renjun says, watching you look at your screen like a lovesick puppy. He already have an idea on what you’re looking at but he doesn’t say.

“This is school work”

“I know, you know why I assigned this feature to you even though I knew you were going to freak out and be all shy around him?” he asks, “Because you enjoy seeing me suffer?” you jokingly ask back.

Renjun throws a crumpled piece of paper at you, “Because I was trying to give you an olive branch. I know you just let the rest of the school year passby again without doing anything about your feelings for him, it’s the 21st century it’s okay for a girl to make the first move. That is, if you like him that much”

“Thanks, but I’m good crushing on him from afar”

“Where’s the fun in that? Go out there, enjoy. It’s okay to step outside your bubble every once in a while. And Haechan’s a good guy, noisy most times but he’s better than most guys on campus”

“You think I don’t know that already, it’s why I’ve liked him since freshmen year” you mumbled

“Can you stop being scared for one second, if you really think he’s this great and that he’s worth all of this then go take that risk. You’ll never know unless you try” he tells you, it’s the first time Renjun ever braved to discuss this topic with you and he’s really just stating all the facts.

Even after your conversation with Renjun, his words kept ringing in your head. Knocking some sense into you. Maybe he is right afterall, you need to stop being so scared to step outside your comfort zone and brave it out.

“You look like your deep in thought” someone spoke from beside you making you look up from the book you were failing to read.

“Can I seat here? All the tables are taken” Haechan says, gesturing to the seat beside yours. Instead of giving him an answer, you move your stuff from the seat to let him occupy it.

“When is the feature going to come out, by the way?” he asks again, attempting to start a small conversation with you.

“By next week, I think. It’s already for approval of the school so yea. I’ll send you a copy when it comes out. Think of it as a simple thank you for doing the interview” you finally managed to speak, even shooting a small smile towards him which he returns.

“No need to thank me, it’s nothing really. Renjun told me it would be good for your club so I said yes” he tells you before getting his stuff out of his bag

“Thank you” you still tell him. quietly mumbling it before turning your attention back to your book

Unlike that time in the cafe, the silence wasn’t that awkward. Haechan took out his notes and laptop to do his work while you go back to reading. You can hear him hum some random tune under his breath, a habit of his.

Some time passed, you didn’t even notice the other student’s started to leave. Only when Haechan closed his laptop you raised your head to look over at him, “I’m done for the day, you?” he asks

“Yea” you’re actually now two chapters ahead your reading but you didn’t want to get up first to leave. So instead you waited for him to go first but it took longer than you expected, although you didn’t really notice the time pass.

The two of you gathered your things in silence. He even motioned for you to go first, walking just right behind you as you make your way outside campus.

“There’s this new donut shop just near here, do you want to grab some before going home? I can give you a lift home if you want” Haechan tells you, the invitation was so unexpected yet so timely. You’ve been thinking about what Renjun said, about talking to Haechan and now is the chance

“Are you sure?” you ask back

“Yea, I did tell Jeno I was going to bring some back for him. He’ll sulk for sure I come back to the dorm empty handed” he lets out a chuckle that went straight to your heart, making it thump a little harder.

Just like that you find yourself seating at the passenger seat of his car, some random song playing in the background as you stare out the window.

“So uhm how have you been?” Haechan likes to think he’s an eloquent person, he’s smart and can easily carry a conversation with anyone. But right now it’s the total opposite, he’s a bit unsure how to start a conversation with you that wouldn’t end with 3 worded answers.

He wanted to know more about you.

“Good, busy with university”

Silence.

Well that was longer than the three words he was expecting. He thinks to himself. “You’re not that talkative, are you?” he asks

He didn’t say it in a teasing way, it’s an honest observation he gathered from the few times he conversed with you.

“Uh not really, I mean I think I am but it depends on the topic. I think I’m a better listener than a talker” you admit, looking over at the driver side to see Haechan with a small smile on his face. Wondering why was he smiling like that, but you weren’t courageous enough to ask.

“Sounds perfect, people tend to tell me I talk alot. Feel free to tell me if I’m being too much though. I’ll shut up” he can here a giggle coming from you, making him smile again.

“I don’t mind” you mumble “But if you want to say anything, ask anything. Go ahead, I’m all ears. I’m a good listener to, a good shoulder to cry on if you need it and an excellent cuddler” he adds a wink at the end.

Not knowing how to react, you just let out a chuckle again before turning to look out the window again.

When you arrived at the donut shop, Haechan opens the door for you. Saying a quick thank you before walking towards the display of donuts available, “See anything you like?” he asks from beside you

“Chocolate, I want this one” you point at the chocolate covered donut with yellow sprinkles., Haechan watches you as you happily look at the other donuts on display. For the first time, you weren’t your usual reserved shy self.

When you look over at him with the biggest grin on your face it’s the wind got knocked out of Haechan’s lungs.

Were you always this pretty? yes. He noticed that when he first saw you in the cafe before the interview. Actually, he’s seen you a few times with Renjun and Giselle. He’s also seen you a few times during parties but never got to talk to you. He noted you liked keeping to yourself or keeping your circle of friends small but you’re that one student every one seem to know.

He always thought you were pretty but right he can’t think of anything else apart from how beautiful you looked smiling right at him.

Shaking his head as if to wake himself up, he orders a few boxes to take back at the dorm and the one you liked.

Before you could pay for your donut, Haechan already swiped his card paying for everything you ordered. “Hey, I was going to pay for that” you tell him

“My treat, think of it as an advance thank you for the feature on the campus journal” he tells you with a smirk

“Renjun is the editor in chief, he was the one who told me to do it..” “You did a great job at the interview, and I’ve read some of your previous articles before. You’re good. Give yourself the credit, you deserve it” he cuts you off, telling you words you didn’t think you needed to hear but very much appreciated.

It feels okay to be told you’re good at something you enjoyed doing every once in a while. It’s a big bonus when it’s your crush that tells you just that.

“Thank you” you tell him, both for the compliment and the snacks

“Don’t mention it, if it bother’s you that much you can buy me donuts next time or whatever you want to eat. Whenever you’re free” he tells you

There’s a next time? you ask yourself. Too stunned once again, you couldn’t say anything else so you just nod and smile shyly at him.

As promised he drove you to your apartment complex after, waving goodbye at him from the doorway before going inside. The smile on your face never leaving even for a second.

That encounter was enough to put you in a good mood for the next couple of days. You didn’t get to see or talk to Haechan after that though, too busy with finishing the campus journal prior it’s final publication.

Then release day comes, finally finally all the hardwork you’ve put in for the past semester paid off. All the coffee induced palpitations, sleepless nights and hours of staying infront of your computer editing is done.

At the moment, you didn’t mind if 3 people get a copy of the journal. You’re just so happy with your work. Renjun, who is probably the only other person who is as tired and as excited as you, felt the same way. Yes he is a bit grumpy from the lack of rest due to late night editing and last minute revisions but he’s happy. He even bought you coffee before coming to school today.

“And here are the first 10 copies printed, all the other ones are being delivered to the library, student center and front office” Giselle says when she entered the room, “Thanks Gi, the pictures and edits on this issue is amazing. Thank you” Renjun tells her

“What can I say, I am a genius behind the camera” you all chuckled at her answer, taking a copy for yourself as a keepsake.

“Why don’t you give one to Haechan?” Renjun asks you

“Can I?”

“Yeah, it’s getting released today anyways. Plus it would be better if you give it to him yourself” he says, passing another copy to you.

And that is how you find yourself at the student lounge looking for a certain brown haired boy. You managed to find his roommate Jeno but no sign of Haechan.

“He only has one class today, I think he’s going to the party later though” Jeno tells you “Party?”

“Yea, to celebrate the almost end of this semester. Also it’s his birthday soon so it’s like an advance party”

It sounds like he’s busy for the rest of the day, saying a quick thank you and goodbye to Jeno before walking out the student hall feeling less excited. Meanwhile Jeno shoots Haechan a quick text telling him you’re looking for hin.

It’s your last class for the day, the journal is already out and surprisingly you saw a lot of students with copies of their own. That being the highlight of your day.

You exit campus. ready to call it a day and head home. Walking across the parking lot to the bus stop right outside the campus gate. You had your earphones on so you didn’t hear your name being called out, only when someone grabbed your arm you let out a shriek

“Sorry I didn’t meant to scare you” Haechan says, holding both hands up to show you it’s just him. You take your earphones of, still feeling a bit startled.

“It’s okay, sorry” you mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed for shouting at him

“It’s cool, my fault. Promise I won’t sneak up on like that again” he says with a gentle smile. Since it was rush hour, a lot of students were passing by you. Some even bumping into you and Haechan.

On the other side, cars where exiting the campus so you were leaning towards the inner side of the sidewalk but too many students were passing by. Noticing this, Haechan pulls you by your arm again. Gently, you notice, he tugs you towards him before putting his hand on your back to guide you back the parking lot assuming that’s where he parked. He was walking closer to were the cars were passing by but he still kept you close to him so you don’t bump into other students passing by.

When you got closer to his car, he drops his hand from your back.

“Uhm where are we going?” you ask, “Well I can drive you back home instead of taking the bus if you like, we can also go for an after class snack” he tells you

“Aren’t you busy today?” you ask again, remembering Jeno’s words earlier today. “Not that busy, I had to go to the hyung’s house to prepare some stuff for the part tonight but they can handle that. So I came to pick you up, heard you were looking for me” he says in a teasing tone, shooting you a cheeky smile

“Yea, uh the journal was released today. I wanted to give you a copy, I have it in my bag” you shrug one of the strap off your shoulder to get his copy when suddenly Haechan pulls the other strap off you to put your bag on him. Slinging it on his own shoulders infront of him so you can grab your stuff easily

“So I get an exclusive, nice” he says making you let out a chuckle “Technically they have a copy now, I was supposed to give this to you earlier but here you go. Better late than never” you say, passing the copy over to him.

When you looked up at him, his attention wasn’t on the paper like you were expecting. Instead he’s looking at you, he had this look on his face you can’t explain but it was enough to make the blood rush to your cheeks. Feeling your face get warm.

“Are you free later?” he asks, not taking his eyes off you even for a second

“Yea, I’m just going back to my dorm and rest. We had to pull an all nighter the other days because of this” you say, pointing at the paper Haechan’s holding.

He was just about to ask you out to come to the party later with him but then changing his mind again, now that you mentioned it he noticed the tired look in your eyes. You still looked cute and was smiling adorably at him but still he can see the tiredness behind it.

Even though he wanted to invite you to the party or spend more time with you he wanted you to rest first. Maybe he can ask you out some other day.

“Want to grab something before I drive you home?”

“My treat?” you ask him, smiling up at the boy. This day taking a turn for the better now that he’s here. It’s crazy just how better your mood got now that Haechan’s here but it is what it is.

“Fine, but next time I’m buying” he agrees before opening the passenger door for you. Passing your bag back to you when you settle in. The two of you grabbed something for dinner, eating in his car while you tell him stories about your very very busy week.

Contrary to how your first meeting went, you’re more carefree this time. Maybe because you missed talking to him. You were too engrossed about telling him all about the late night revisions and multiple cups of coffee you consumed to notice the fond look on Haechan’s face as he listens to you.

He liked how you’re getting more comfortable around him, he loved talked to you but he loved hearing you tell stories about your day. You can be reading the back of the cereal box and he’d still be all ears for you but he don’t admit it to you. Not yet. He didn’t want to freak you out.

“Oh my god I’m speaking too much, am I boring you? Oh gosh I’m so-” “:Hey no, none of that. I love hearing about you and how your day went” he stops before you could finish the sentence.

Shooting you a gentle smile before reaching a hand towards you to tuck a loose strand of har behind your ear, “Next time, you can call me when you have to pull an all nighter. I sleep pretty late anyways”

“I don’t want to bother you though” you mumble

“You’re not a bother, it’s definitely better than hearing Jeno scream at his computer all night” he jokes, tapping you on the nose gently before taking his phone from the console to pass it over to you

“Here, you can give me your number” you take the phone from him, putting your number in before passing it back to him. Feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, “There, you can save my number. Now you can call me whenever”

Too bad you had to cut your night short since he had a party to go to and you’re pretty sleepy already. You don’t tell him but he noticed how you were fighting the sleepiness off. Deciding to drive you home, again he waits until you were inside before driving away.

Ever since then, you and Haechan would call each other on random times whenever you’re not together and when both of your schedules are free. Sadly you don’t have any classes together so you don’t really spend a lot of time together on campus.

“You’re not smiling at our phone this time? He forgot to shoot you a goodmorning text?” Renjun teases you. He definitely noticed the change between you and Haechan and how more frequent your interactions were.

He’s happy now that you finally have the courage to go out there, he’s known you for years and considers you like his own sister. You’re loyal to people you love and care about, probably the most understanding person he knows. You’re that one person he could call anytime he needs someone. You deserve to have someone like that and Haechan is perfect for that.

When Renjun first got that confession out of you; your feelings for Haechan, he was surprised because Haechan is pretty rambunctious, the total opposite of you. But seeing you and Haechan together it definitely make sense.

“No” you grumbled

“No as in he didn’t text or no that’s not reason?”

“No, he didn’t text me and no that’s not the reason. I’m just a bit snappy since I haven’t had my coffee yet”

Renjun just gives you a look but choose not to say anything anymore. It was cute you were acting this way, sneaking to take a picture of you to send to Haechan.

The aforementioned boy back at home, stuck doing a few papers due by tomorrow. Did Haechan really wait until the last minute to do all his work? Yes. In his defense he was about to do it last night while he was talking to you but after the call Jeno asked him to play games then the rest was a blur.

Now he’s here, no sleep running on 5 energy drinks.

A few final clicks before hitting send, finishing his last requirement before finally being free from any pending work. He was too focused in his work he forgot to plug his phone last night, only remembered to charge it an hour ago. Standing up from his computer chair to jump on his bed. Checking his phone to see any messages, a few from his friends but none from you.

Then he sees the text Renjun sent a few hours ago. A picture of you slumped on your seat, head resting on the table. Come and get her, she’s sulking, Renjun’s message says.

Immediately Haechan smiles, feeling recharged even though he hasn’t slept a wink. Quickly changing clothes before taking his phone and keys to do just what Renjun said.

It was your last class for the day, ready to get back to your dorm and rest when something or more like someone catches your eye by the parking lot. You’ve been on a few roadtrips with Haechan, plus those other times he drove you home so his car is familiar to you by now.

Also, you’d know that mop of brown hair anywhere. Even when his face is being blocked by a bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers.

Walking across the lot towards him, “What are you doing?” you ask him

Haechan peaks his head from behind the flowers, before pulling them down to finally look at you face to face. “Came here to see you, I was busy finishing three papers that were all due at the same day so I didn’t get to charge my phone”

“Okay, doesn’t explain the flowers though”

“Well these are for you, to brighten up your day. Sunflowers from your sunshine” he smiles at you, a bit jokingly but still you find it adorable. Not being able to fight off the smile, you just roll your eyes before taking the flowers from him

“You like them? I remember you said you liked sunflowers” he asks, but from the way you’re looking at the arrangement he can tell you liked it

“I do, thank you. You didn’t have to though”

“But I wanted to, so there you go. And that is only the beginning, are you free tonight?”

“Yea why?” you ask back, “Want to go on an adventure with me?”

If Haechan thinks you will say no to him, then he’s severely wrong. He might not know it yet but the power he has over you, his ability to pull all the yes in just about every question he asks from you.

That’s how you found yourself going on a spontaneous date with the guy you really really like. Sometimes you think you want to distance yourself from him because the lines are getting too blurry but you don’t want to make yourself hope over nothing. He’s very doting when it comes to you, gives you rides to and from school, you two talk nonstop but he never really expressed the intention of becoming more than a friend.

Even though you like him very much, you respect he might not feel the same. You’re happy with whatever this is, but sometimes you also want to go and distance yourself from the pain if one day all of this changes.

“You look like you’re in deep thought” right now the two of you are at the park, seating by the swings

“Just thinking about some stuff”

“Tell me” he tells you like a little kid, “You really want to know?”

Haechan nods his head, leaning closer towards you

“Really really want to know?” again he nods his head enthusiasticly

It took a second before you burst out laughing, making Haechan realize you were joking.

“That’s not nice” he grumbles, acting like he’s mad making you tug on his arm. He drop his arms from the swing making yours follow along. Now both of your hand are resting mid air, his hand holding yours.

“You really can’t tell me?” he asks again

“Should I? I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear it yet” in between the feeling of him holding your hands and the fact that you’re about to confess to him, you’re trying your best not to freak out

“Remember what I told you before? Whatever you have to say, I’m here to listen. I like hearing your stories” he looks over at you, meanwhile you were looking down at the ground

“I like you” you whisper

The words were already out before you could stop yourself, hoping he didn’t hear it. Haechan says nothing at first, he just stays still beside you. Maybe he didn’t hear after all.

Haechan on the other hand, was still looking at you. Did he hear you right? You did say you like him? You like him?

This time he stands up, pulling you with him so now you’re standing infron of each other. He holds you by your shoulders, “Sorry my hearing is shit from how loud my headphones are when I play games so I need to hear that again just to be sure”

“So you didn’t hear me?” you ask

“I did but I want to be sure”

“Sure about you heard? So you didn’t hear me clearly?” you asked,

“Are you teasing me because if so this is no fun, I know what I heard I just... Can I hear you say it, please?” how can you say no to him when he asks you like that, one look at his eyes and you’re ready to spill your feelings to him

“I like you” you mumble, looking over his shoulder

“It doesn’t count if you don’t look in the eye” he chuckles, dropping his hands from your shoulder to hold both of your hands.

“Please” he tilts his head to catch your gaze

This time you look at him in the eyes, feeling your cheeks burning already

“I said I like you” you said a bit aggravated because you can tell he’s teasing you. Then you see his smile, starting from the corner of his lips turning to a full grin. The type of smile that reaches his eyes, making them look like tiny cresent moons.

The next second he was hugging you tightly against his chest, “I heard it the first time I just wanted to hear it again” he admits

“You’re annoying” you mumble

“You like me though” “That I can’t argue with”

He then pulls away from you, holding your face with both hands so gently. “I like you, too. Like a lot” he tells you, hearing his words it made you blush like crazy. Haechan loving every second of this, not letting this moment pass without teasing you

“Oh my god are you blushing? You are!” that earned him a pinch on the side making him yelp in pain. He takes your hands again to pull you in an embrace, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears

“I have a question thought”

“What is it?” you ask him, “Can I kiss you?” you can feel his hand hold the side of your face, instead of saying yes you’re the one to close the distance between the two of you. You can feel him smile against your lips, then his arms wound around your waist slightly lifting you off the ground.

When the two of you broke apart, you can’t stop the smile on your faces. He peppers kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, from your forehead down to your chin, saving your lips for last.

“This is better than any prize out there” he mumbles “Mhm, you say that now. Wait until your next tournament” you joke. He lifts you again, taking you for a spin making you squeal and hold him around the shoulders tightly. Burying your head on his neck, you feel him kiss the top of your head before you hear him say

“Psh, forget any trophy. I have my prize right here”

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