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capslocked · 2 months

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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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iamasaddie · 4 months

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the number is not available at the moment

paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, light degradation!kink, daddy!kink, dom!Joel/sub!reader, no use of Y/N a/n: my own fic for the writing challenge! thanks to the best and kindest beta ever @noxturnalpascal ily thank you so much <3 word count: 1.8k masterlist

You should’ve definitely listened to Max. A tiny voice in your head told you that your friend was right and you really shouldn’t have sent that photo to Joel. But your needy personality and the exponentially growing frustration from not seeing him for a week won over.

You turned off the main light, leaving on the vintage lamp on the bedside table to bathe the room in soft yellow light, the photo you made in the mirror looking even more seductive. You loved how the soft milky white material looked against your skin, how the pajamas looked almost transparent with how thin it was. The tiny shorts and even tinier top revealed enough of your skin for your mouth to start watering, you smirked, imagining what it’d do to Joel.

You chose the perfect angle that hid your face but gave the perfect view of your full breasts, the seductive curve of your hips and if he cared enough to zoom in, he’d see the hint of a wet spot where the fabrics stuck to your weeping cunt.

“Hope you have fun at your boring meeting, daddy.”

And sent.

The longer you looked at the little gray ‘read’ under your photo, the harder your teeth sunk into your lower lip, ripping the skin till you tasted the blood.

Wetness that covered the nub of your clit swollen with arousal now just felt uncomfortable rather than sexy. You groaned with frustration, throwing yourself on your bed and hitting the pillow with your face a couple of times.

“FUCK!” The scream woke your cat that was sleeping on the windowsill, and it jumped up giving you a disapproving stare before running out of your room.

He told you he’d be over tomorrow, that this week was going to be a challenge with all the transfers and the end-of-quarter reports. He kissed your knees and promised that after that he was gonna be all yours until you tell him to get out. He just asked you to be patient with him that one week, but of course you waited until the last moment to fuck everything up.

You didn’t notice how your worry put you to sleep. Your phone vibrated on the pillow next to you, the screen’s blue light tearing into the darkness of your room. Apparently you turned the lamp off before falling asleep even if you couldn’t recall the fact.

Groaning, you blindly grabbed the phone, one of your eyes squinting at the blinding light. As soon as you saw the caller‘s photo you felt a cold shiver that ran down your back, stopping in your pussy with a throb.

Opening both of your eyes you pushed the green button and brought the phone to your ear, the darkness of the room still pressing.

He didn’t speak first, the stillness on the line killing you and you felt a thick glob of saliva almost choking you as you tried to swallow it down.

“Hello, baby.”

Joel’s voice was calm, but you knew him well enough to hear the steely notes in it. It wasn’t a relaxed ‘how ya day was, darlin’ it was a quiet storm.

“Hi, daddy,” you croaked out, voice shakier than you hoped.

If you closed your eyes you could see Joel’s jaw squeezed tight. The muscles under his scruff-covered skin twitching as he pushes his brows together.

“You wanna tell me something?” He’s giving you a way out, giving you a chance to be his good girl and you jump to take it.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You whisper sincerely. Your words tremble along with your eyelids. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

There’s another long silence on the other end and you can almost hear a mental watch ticking in your brain, counting every long second with a loud bang. That is until you hear Joel hum, the sound too neutral to hear the emotion behind it.

“Yes, you shouldn’t have. Then why did ya, baby girl?” He didn’t sound as disappointed as you think he wanted to. His voice reminded you more of a therapist who tried to understand the motives behind his patient’s actions.

“I… I missed you,” you started slowly. There were many more reasons for what you’ve done, but you decided to start with the one that could have given you an easy way out.

“And you couldn’t text me something decent? Something along the ‘I miss you, Joel’ lines?”

You felt the heat of embarrassment burn your cheeks, but also the shaming wetness of arousal when you started depicting the notes of rage in Joel’s voice. You were sick, no way you weren’t if you got wet when the person that you loved got angry and rough with you. If your pussy started leaking at the sound of him losing control. But he knew that, and it worked for you.

“I haven’t cum in a week and I felt… lonely.”

“I did not forbid you to cum, baby. You could’ve been with both your holes stuffed full of toys 24/7 if you wanted to and cum as many times as your whore cunt desires.”

Your pussy twitched at his words, teeth coming back to assault the tender skin of your lip as you tried to stifle a moan.

“So what was it?”

“I couldn’t cum without you.”

That was true. You were allowed to use toys, fingers, plugs whatever you wanted to get yourself off this week. Joel was never a sadist and he felt bad about leaving you for a whole week without orgasms when you were nothing but a good girl for him. But no matter how long it took you to prepare yourself, no matter how aroused and sexually frustrated you’d been you just couldn’t reach that peak. Your favorite toys failed, your hands were not enough. You just felt that constant buzzing under your skin, almost bringing you to tears with another orgasm-less night.

“So that’s why you thought it would be fine to send me that slutty picture during my work meeting?” Without even getting the signal from your brain, your right hand pressed on the speaker button and dropped the phone next to your head before trailing down into your panties. Your left one has been absentmindedly kneading your breast since the moment you heard Joel’s voice that’s been getting more and more edgy with anger. “Knowing full well that I’m surrounded by a bunch of ugly old men and I need to impress them enough to make them want to invest in my company?” The feeling of guilt took a second place after the feeling of need that was coursing through you. Your fingers slipped on your mound wet with arousal and perspiration, sliding between your lips to your entrance and bringing your slick up to play with your clit. Your tender nub was swollen with desire and you started gently rubbing it in tight circles just like you did a thousand times before, praying that Joel didn’t hear it when your breath hitched. “And instead of being a good baby, a supportive girlfriend, you make me sport a boner during my presentation because you forgot how to get yourself off?” Your mouth salivated when he painted the picture for you. His thick long cock strained against his zipper. The thin expensive fabric of his suit pants doing nothing to hide the impressive bulge. You missed having him around, you missed having him inside. Since getting Joel’s dick for the first time there wasn’t a day when you didn’t have the need to feel the burning stretch of his fat shaft parting your insides. “I should’a just shown them your picture, with that slutty wet stain on your pussy. Should’a told them that I needed all of that money just to keep your greedy cunt and ass stuffed with toys, since you’re so insatiable.” You could moan at that. The filthy situation played out in your brain. Joel, showing you off to a bunch of strangers who would rub their dicks remembering your body, call you names. Joel, grabbing you by the hair and fucking you in front of them on one of the meetings. Letting the biggest investor fuck your throat. You felt tears streaming down your temples as you bit into your lip with violence. Your fingers danced over your pussy, pressing into your clit as you slid them up and down in a desperate attempt to get your release. Your hole twitched, aching for something to fill you up, but you couldn’t move a muscle, all of your energy concentrated on getting off and drowning in Joel’s voice. “And even now, as I’m telling you off, what do you do? Fucking playing with your pussy. You just don’t learn, do you?”

“I’m so sorry, daddy,” you whined, cries tearing up your throat as you stopped trying to hide what you’ve been doing. Your hand moved faster, fingers rubbing your clit furiously as your other hand squeezed and pinched your nipples. Your breathing started getting faster and faster as you finally felt that upcoming orgasm, just a second more, just one second more.

“You better not come, baby. The only orgasms you’re gonna get from now on belong to me. And you will not come until you have had your punishment.”

“But daddy, please, I’m almost,” you felt yourself choking on air, almost possessed by the need to cum.

“STOP.” Joel barked, he never screamed at you, and this wasn’t exactly a scream either, but it felt like he shook the whole room with his voice. You whined, but your body obeyed as you stopped your frantic movements.

“Yes, daddy.” You whispered, trying to hold yourself together and not break down in tears. Still, you couldn’t deny that you felt a pinch of pride for yourself that even in the state of desperate delirium you were able to do what Joel said. What your daddy ordered. It made you feel good until you understood that he hasn’t said anything in a while. You looked at your phone seeing that he disconnected. Without giving it a second thought you hurried to call him back, feeling yourself being slapped with a robotic voice.

“The number you’re trying to reach is not available at the moment. Please, call back later.”

You blankly stared at the black screen of your phone for the next couple of minutes. The frustration from not coming physically pained you, sticking to your skin with a sheen of sweat. The tears of disappointment started welling up in your eyes and you felt your lower lip start to treble again, until a familiar ping made you spread them in a smile, all sadness promptly forgotten.

‘I’ll be over tomorrow first thing in the morning. I love you.’

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKED WHAT YOU READ

#✏️ game club #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader

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astrolynnworld · 5 months

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wanting you

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt wants you but knows he can never have you so he just gets off to the thought of you instead.

warnings: smut! obsession, masturbation, lust, need, imagination, cunnilingus, language.

a/n: this whole story is in matt’s pov! the bold lettering is his subconscious head thoughts & the regular lettering is his conscious regular thoughts. enjoy 🫡

word count: 800

im so in love with her.

anything she does just makes my heart ache with need. the need for her

she’s so precious, everything about her. i love her smile.. her laugh.. her eyes.. her personality, her voice, her smell, her bod-

fuck. no matt.. focus!

she’s such an amazing person, inside and out.. innsideee

i long to know how she feels on the inside. i bet she gets so wet, and i just know her pussy would clench around my dick like a claw mac-

MATT. enough. this is y/n you’re talking about.. your best friend of 7 years, you shouldn’t be thinking about her like this

but fuck does she turn me on inside and out. everything about her is literally perfect

*ding* i hear a notification from my phone

y/n just posted on instagram. i go to check what the photo is

she’s on a rooftop club posted up in a red halter top, black mini skirt, & some sexy laced up black heels.. my favorite pair of hers actually

the caption reads, “just your type.” for damn sure is what i thought

i notice the number 1/5 on the top and decide to swipe to the next one.

this one is her slightly turned to the back, bent down holding her knees while looking at the camera. i can see a bit of her panties

fuck she looks so seductive. i can’t help the tent that starts to grow in my pants

“what do you do to me?” i ask myself

i start palming myself in my pants as i continue through the slideshow, each picture getting a slight bit more seductive than the last.

i like the picture and leave a slick comment such as, “great photos 📸 “

not even a few seconds later she replies “thanks 📸” and likes my comment

she likes everyone’s comment, i don’t know why my like felt so special but it did.

fuck did she have a chokehold on me.. she needs to have a chokehold of something else tho

the palming through my pants allowed my dick to be fully erected at this point

it felt wrong thinking of her in this way but i couldn’t help with when i get horny and she’s the most beautiful girl in my eyes.

everything from her head to her toes is god given beauty.

i remember that one time, at nathan’s pool party, when she came in with her sexy purple two piece bathing suit.

i wish i could of took her back inside, slid those panties off and went to work. i just know she tastes fantastic

i take my dick out of my boxers as i imagine the thought of good her pussy would taste

i start stroking it to the thought her obedience as i take full control

how wet she could get from the thought of me domming her.

“mhm, you’re so good for daddy aren’t you?”

as she slides out of her panties and makes her way to the bed.

i follow behind her, pushing her down on the bed so i can climb on top of her and kiss her pretty pink lips

my dick throbs at the scene in my head

i slide down and kiss her second pair of pretty pink lips; causing her to let out a small whine

“moan for me baby, i wanna hear you” i say before starting to dip and lick my tongue all over her wet pussy

she’s making so many pretty noises but it’s not enough, i have to do more. i want her to feel like she’s never felt before

i stick my fingers inside and curl them. she whimpers at the sudden friction

i push my fingers in and out of her dripping pussy while licking up and down at her clit. i keep this pace going for a while

she starts grinding on my tongue, pulling my head closer to her pussy.

i’m thrusting into my hand faster. i want nothing more than to satisfy her

“fuck matt- pls don’t stop i’m going to cum”

“cum for me baby. please cum. i want nothing more than to taste you baby”

“matt. oh my fuck-“ she says letting her hips buck up uncontrollably

i’m so fucking close right now i can feel the pre cum leaking out of my dick like a fire hose

“mat- fuck i’m- i’m gonna cum” she says before squeezing my head with her thighs as she releases her high

i buck my hips into my hand one last time before im spilling out cum onto my chest.

i can’t remember the last time i came so hard. yet this time, it’s only from a fantasy of eating y/n out

god. i need her so bad

———————————————————————

a/n- and then the audience clapped 😵‍💫 all my matt stories are short :( can you tell i’m a chris girl? im gonna come with longer ones soon

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smuttyaf · 4 months

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The Camster Couple

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰.

wc: 5k

spanking, choking, degradation and rough sex.

It all started on the blue app with the lowercase ‘t’ in the middle. Posting seductive selfies to revealing videos, you built quite the following from these appearances.

Admirers began requesting specific posts to ache their thirst. First it was particular lingerie sets, then prolonged videos touching yourself, soon it escalated into you role playing for the naughty viewers. Reciting everything the strangers would describe on how they’d like to use and abuse you.

But even after fulfilling all those demands, still came the bombarding questions of wanting more.

The requests to become a cam girl started to pour in. The constant debate down your feed about which website you should join. Maybe Chaturbate or Cherry.tv? No… Those weren’t good enough, but you still had time to ponder the idea.

Doing live shows had its advantages and drawbacks. For one, you’re getting paid to touch yourself, your revealing photos and videos will finally have a price on them. But, that doesn’t overshadow the dispute that your face could possibly be shown for everyone to see. You were fearful that maybe co-workers, friends, or even family might find out. However, the conflicting contrast that made you excited was the option to receive gifts. Followers had the ability of viewing your wishlist on certain cam-sites. It gave them the option to go beyond just tipping the model, but appreciating her even more… honestly that feature alone made you like the idea of doing it. But, the one major obstacle that really hinders your decision is your boyfriend; the one who doesn’t know about your second life.

That’s why you find yourself here right now, lounging together in your bedroom with your teeth grinding in your ear. Your eyes flick towards him when running your finger on the notepad; clicking on the search bar, you immediately type in the link to your blog. The familiar desktop background appears making you scroll through a few post till you turn your laptop towards Harry.

“Look at this.” His attention turns towards you placing it on his thighs.

You gaze at him while his fingers press down on the arrow key to move the screen further. “What do you think?” You ask. Warmth spreading throughout your cheeks as you let your hand rest along your stomach fiddling nervously with your tank top.

“I think you want me in trouble,” Harry smirks. He goes to pass the laptop back however you halt his movements.

With nervous smile adorning your lips, his expression transitions into one of confusing eyes, questioning your behaviour.

“I think you need to look closer.” You insist, finger dragging down the notepad. He scoffs, sight trailing back to the pictures on the fuzzy screen.

Harry doesn’t even listen at first, letting himself look over your unopened tabs that range from PrettyLittleThing to Xvideos. The glimpse of porn sites didn’t faze him, what does are the tabs that read “Most profitable webcams sites?” and “Best webcam site survey.” Bushy brows lock together, his attention going back to the revealing pictures of… hold on, that looks like your lingerie set… and that beauty mark right there belongs too.

His head snaps, mouth opening slightly with chest beginning to rise with nerves. He wants to be upset, wants to shut the laptop and demand answers but the growing bulge in his pants directs him otherwise, because as much as he should be angry right now that his girlfriend of eight months was taking provocative pictures of herself to upload on the internet, he was aroused.

“Since when?” Harry mutters, swallowing hesitantly. His gaze going between you and the picture of your chest displayed on the screen.

The look on his face is giving you anxiety. Heart pounding in its cage. You’re back to biting down on your bottom lip, diverting your attention to the highlighted keys.

“It’s been two years…” You mumble, finding the bottom of your laptop more interesting in this moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrug your shoulders. You didn’t have a reason, you never thought your pictures would blow up and gain so much traction And you never thought you would get bombarding comments about wanting to see more of yourself. You groan, taking your finger away from the machine and running them through your hair, dramatically slouching your body into the bed frame.

“If you want to break up with me I totally understand.” You say, words muffled from your face burying into your crewneck. That makes a hearty laugh leave the brunette, the feeling of his hands gliding up your thigh stirs your head to peek up.

“Baby relax,” He reassures. Blinking at him you nestle deeper into his touch, shifting your body into him as the redness in your face begins to subside.

“You’re not mad?” You question, fiddling with your bottom lip. The thundering in your ear quiets down as you don’t see the angry face of your boyfriend appear. He lets out another light laugh, shaking his head and looking at you in a way that makes you sigh with utter relief.

“I —I’m definitely surprised… and a little upset… I mean you’re my girlfriend and you’ve been posting these but…” He looks between you and the laptop, his lips squeezing into his cheeks before breaking out into a sneaky grin. “You’re so sexy baby, I really can’t be mad.” He reveals, finger pinching your thigh.

The answer causes you to lean forward, arms linking around his shoulders as you press heartfelt kisses across his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry! I know, I know, I should’ve told you but… I was too scared and I’ve been doing this before I met you and… I just didn’t know what you would say,” You rant between kisses, his lips curling into amusement. The warmth of his hands run over your spine comforting you.

“Baby. Relax.” Harry replies, the tone of his voice settling your excited nerves. You quiet down, placing one last kiss on his cheek before looking up at him with shy eyes. “I’m not mad, just wish you told me earlier.” You nod at him pleasantly with smile set on your features.

Your breath draws in slowly with the quiet hum of the laptop sounding in the space. And just like before when you were nervous telling him about your promiscuous account online, you’re back to the bubbling feeling having to tell him the new escapade on your schedule. Clearing your throat, you raise up, licking over your bottom lip and locking your gaze with his.

“I do have one more thing though…”

Harry shakes his head playfully, smirk tugging along his features as he rubs your covered flesh in his palms.

“You want to be a cam girl?” He interjects. Stomach quivers with eyes fluttering in shock, you question were exactly he even got that idea or was it obvious. “It’s in your tabs babe.” Harry continues. Your cheeks go back to burning in embarrassment as you nod your head.

“Yes I want to do that but also…” His brows rise, surprised there is more to the story. “I want to do it with you.”

His features soon resemble yours with burning skin and body shifting under your weight. To your amazement he leans in, lips pressing against yours in a teasing kiss. The racing in your heart relaxes. You really had the best boyfriend in the world.

With the fondness of his lips against yours you pull away, cheerful smile shining as you hum with happiness.

“So… yes?”

Plaid pink skirt with embroidered bralette reflects across the screen as comments fill the message board.

You giggle at the viewers appreciating your half naked appearance. Thanking the many who are tuning in for your first show.

The sound of the sink cutting off in your adjoined bathroom rings through the space, it only makes you smirk at the events about to happen.

“I did say I have a surprise for my opening night.” Black letters roll in questioning the news. “I thought I would do it with a special someone.”

Harry’s footsteps sound through the room when he moves his way towards the bed. His hands going to your calves hanging off the frame and playfully tugging you down. It causes a smile to spread on your lips as you kick him away.

“Let’s start shall we.”

You adjust the frame of your laptop so it can hide Harry’s face as he slips in behind you. His fingers gracefully falling on your hip as you adjust to make space for him on the bed.

“I think they’re jealous.” Harry says, head leaning in to look at the comments reacting to him.

You watch his expression change as his eyes rake over the messages; jaw clenching with lips pressed tight together. You can tell he wasn’t pleased with whatever people were saying.

“I have to agree I’m mad too,” He responds to someone. Your face twists in confusion. “She’s been a bad little girl, hasn’t she?” His hand on your hip massages your skin roughly as you register his words.

“Not only deceiving you all, but me as well. So naughty not telling her boyfriend about what she does online.”

Biting down on your bottom lip you turn towards the screen with glint of happiness in your eyes. You know what mood Harry is in.

“She deserves a punishment, doesn’t she?” The hand on your hip leisurely glides into your scalp and grips it in his palm. Your head jerks back while his gaze is still caught on the computer; not even paying attention to what he’s doing.

“I think they’re starting to like me now.” Harry smirks, his other hand going to your breast and gripping it roughly.

The devious tone in his voice makes you whimper, eyes peering up at the ceiling as you let him grope your skin. Fingers transition from kneading it in his palms to twisting your nipples through the thin material.

“Yes, she’s been a very bad girl.” His digits pull away to slap your breast making you cry out. The sound you elect causing him to pull your head back once again, his body shifting from behind to gaze over your expression.

“Such a liar.” He says, eyes peering down as you look at him with pleasure written all over your face.

“You like being a liar, don’t you.” His hand meeting your skin again to pierce another smack against your tits. “Speak!” He orders, adding another blow.

“Yes sir.” You mutter, looking into his forest eyes and biting down on your bottom lip as he places one final slap to your skin.

“Tell me what you are.” Harry says, jerking your head, it makes you flutter your lashes up at him.

You’re too caught up between his freshly washed hair falling over his forehead and chest displaying his tattoos, that you don’t recall him demanding you to answer him again. His biceps flex when he lands another blow against your skin to knock you out of your daze.

“I’m a bad girl.” You tremble. His lips turn into a devilish grin. Hands roaming over your reddening skin.

“Mhm…” Harry hums with eyes searching your overwhelming appearance. “Across my legs.”

He relaxes his hold on your hair, letting you rise up on the bed to comfortably lay across his thighs. Your backside perched itself in the air. The ends of your skirt revealing your bare heat as his hand that once laid marks across your skin rubs against the material of your clothing.

“They’re calling you a dumb slut,” His hands go under your skirt to feel over your ass roughly. “I think I agree.” He smacks the flesh making you chew down on your bottom lip.

“Do you think you’re a dumb slut?” Harry taunts with another mark against your ass.

The atmosphere is influenced with pure lust from each swift, assertive motion of his palm lying roughly into your skin. Harry’s not even waiting for you to answer, he’s just placing blow after blow amongst your cheeks in pure arousal. The sheets underneath his hold ruffles against your body with each thrust.

You bite down harder into your bottom lip, fingers curling into the duvet as your eyes roll in hunger at the furious slaps causing hues of red blossoming under your skin.

“Dumb slut doesn’t know how to answer,” Harry cracks another heavy smack against your ass. High pitch whimper breaks through your lips when you jump at the action.

“Baby,” You cry but that only beckons another sharp slap.

“What’s my name?”

“S —Sir. I’m sorry sir.” You apologize for the mistake as his thundering smacks blaze across your skin.

“Dumb little fuck toy,” One hand leaves your cheeks and trails back into your hair. He’s tugging the strands so you can turn towards the laptop completely.

Catching sight of yourself in the camera your face is blazed red, lips bitten with tears brimming your eyes from the pain and pleasure coursing through your veins. The viewers are seeing you at your most vulnerable. Being taunted with bruises and degrading words, just for you to apologize to the one haunting your skin with waves of pain.

“Say it, say “I’m a dumb little fuck toy”,” Harry gloats. You can see in the view of the laptop his smirk as it’s the only feature that reveals his face. The palm of his hand makes another moan slip out of your mouth as it welcomes itself against your flesh.

He loves watching you wither and moan. He loves seeing your skin flourish with hues of pink from his finger prints leaving their marks, knowing that they will be there for days. He loves that with each smack of his hand you were getting off to it. He loves that if he were to move his position even lower he’ll feel your wet pussy ready for anything he has in store.

“I’m a dumb little fuck toy sir.” You whine, voice muffled from your face press into the sheets.

“Mhm…” Harry hums again, another painful slap burning your skin. “My dumb little fuck toy.” Smoothing his hand over your scorching flesh.

His grip on your hair jerks your head back, painful cry leaving your mouth as the straining sensation in your scalp makes your arms bend to pick your body off his thighs. He draws your head back even further, your legs flexing to move your position to now face him. The hand leaving heavy slaps against your ass sends one roughly across your face.

His jaw is still tense with eyes dilated in dominance. Your legs are now completely aching for his touch to spread over your pussy, just craving attention.

“Don’t you love being my fuck toy?”

You moan at the words, blinking up at him and nodding your head. “Yes sir.” You whimper, sucking on your bottom lip as he looks over your disheveled appearance.

Harry taps your face gently, lips flattening together as the hold he has on your hair pressures your face to meet his. Your tongues immediately exchange fluid as they dance against each other in passionate harmony, the feeling of his muscle running against yours has you moaning into the kiss.

The rough exchange of spit oozes between lips as you push yourself deeper into his embrace. His fingers curling into your hair welcoming your adventurous tongue as it glides against the wet expanse of his.

“I love being your fuck toy,” You mumble, pulling away and leaving string of saliva linked between you. His eyes glisten at your confession. It makes Harry smirk at you, his tongue escaping his mouth to sever the translucent connection.

The hand in your hair is breaking the sight between you both. His grip shoves your head directly into his lap, your nose digging into his crotch as his other hand goes back to rubbing your bruised skin.

“I think it’s time to put you to work.” Harry declares, his hold making you roam your face along his erection. Your breath rushing over his clothed shaft as he buries you into his lap.

The notifications of tips rings through the space. Audience entertained that you’re being degraded for their enjoyment. The thought alone arouses you, it made you moan against his cock. Followers and onlookers getting off to Harry completely doing anything that he wants to your body. Accepting the demeaning words that fuels your greed for pleasure, and letting him place as many smacks against your skin.

“Take my cock out.” He instructs, his grip relaxing as he lets you rise up to reach into his boxers.

Your hands glide over his member gracefully, fingers roaming over the thick expanse as your eyes look at him with pure adoration. Angry veins ranging in size roam under the stretched skin of him that has your mind completely hypnotized.

“Look at you,” Harry exaggerates with amusement. He gently slaps your cheeks in light taps, those motions making you smile with moan slipping out.

“Enjoying yourself like the slut you are,” He comments. His grip forcing the space between you and his dick to bring attention to pleasing him.

With fingers still lace in your hair, they effortlessly follow your movements when your head leans forward to pepper wet kisses along his shaft. Plump bitten lips smearing saliva messily over his erection, as they roam all along his length, tongue stretching around the girth.

Your hand goes to cup his balls, letting your mouth pick up motion with each descend down him. Tongue feeling over every inch, swallowing him down coating the expense of him in thick fluid from every stroke.

Your eyes flutter from the familiar feeling of him dragging down your throat. The way he fits so nicely like he was made to be there, it only makes you moan around him in pleasure. You love the way he stretches your throat blissfully, moving gracefully with the added slick. The sensation of him expending the flesh around him has your pussy throbbing for any form of treatment.

The quiver between your legs only increases when the grip Harry has in your hair is roughly forcing you back down his cock. Hips drawing slowly out of your mouth to push back in as he begins to fuck your throat. His nails curl into your scalp when he shoves your head all the way down to the point your nose is brushing against his groin, just letting you take his swift thrusts. His deep voice dripping in honey when satisfying groans pass through his lips.

“Take my dick like the good slut you are.”

Wet, obscure noise sounding throughout the atmosphere as he assaults your throat. His rough hands collecting your hair swiftly as he continues to drag your head up and down his cock. The aggressive lunges he makes with his own hips to meet your mouth causes your chest to burn for air.

Your palms tear away from his balls and run across his upper thighs, eyes barely open from the lack of oxygen running through your system. Your mind goes completely numb to the control he has over your movements.

And just as your nose brushes against his skin once more, he relaxes his grip in your locks, letting his fingers gently bring your head up. Heavy ragged breaths draw from your lips as your lungs ache in pain.

It’s only when you feel one of Harry’s hand leave from your hair to run across your face, that you feel wetness roam amongst your cheeks.

His other hand glides down your backside. Feeling over the bruised skin and slipping it between your legs to run his fingers down your folds. A hesitant breath escapes you with eyes blinking slowly at his dick glistening in your fluid.

“Always so wet for me, huh?” Index finger craving your clit around in circles.

You hum while nodding your head; your mind is in another dimension right now, you’re not even sure if you’re able to form coherent words. Your brain is in a cloudy daze, dancing between the raging sensations flowing through you.

It’s a mix between thrill and greed. You want more of Harry shoving himself down your throat till the point you pass out, you want him to push your face deeper down his cock and have your nails curling into his skin from the lack of oxygen. You want him to ruin you.

“So wet and ready to be used.” Harry states. Another finger occupying his movements, only causing your head to lean forward, broken whimper trailing out of your lips at the added pleasure you’ve been craving. “Be a good little slut for me. Won’t you baby.”

You nod your head, lashes fluttering against the hollows of your eyes while you lean forward and press lazy kisses along his dick. Harry motions continue to rub your clit around his two fingers, spreading your nectar along your folds with swiftness that you can’t help the moan that breaks through your lips.

“Say you’re gonna be a good slut for me.” His fingers continuing their fierce movements.

“I —I’m,” Voice coming out broken and damaged. Harry smirks at that. “I’m gonna be a good slut for you sir.” You manage to say, lips still roaming amongst his length.

“That’s my girl.”

His fingers leave your clit to dip between your folds and spread you open. Lengthy digits thrusting into your pussy slow. He feels the way your velvet walls sink around him, the sweet fluid that you’ve been producing since he’s been lying his hands on you, gliding down every inch of his skin as lets his fingers explore you.

You moan at the feeling of Harry slipping into your pussy provoking more filthy whimpers of pleasure, while your mouth drags down the expense of him.

You’re so turned on from the sensations coursing through you, you don’t even hear the constant pings of tips and comments coming through the chatroom. Viewers appreciate your tousled appearance and beg for more entertainment. They want more exposure of your skin being shown. They want more deafening slaps and disgraceful words, they want to see you wrecked.

Your lips wrap around Harry in a frenzy state, sucking him down your throat just the way you know he likes; tongue lying on the underside and feeling over every prominent blood vessel that blooms along his shaft, throat welcoming the thickness that buries itself deep in your throat till your nose is brushing up against his groin just like before.

As you continue to let pleasure course through you and roam down the span of him, Harry continues playing with your pussy. Lunging his fingers hungrily with your slick cascading down his fingers all the way to his knuckles, fucking his digits into your soiled box that you choke around him, only straining the burn in your throat.

“That’s my good slut.” Harry groans, his fingers curling into your heat as your eyes flutter. “Taking good care of my dick.” He continues to boast.

You hum from the gratitude, relishing in the compliment that’s given, you nod around him in acknowledgment with fingers curving gently into his skin while he continues his tantalizing motions.

“Wanna be an even better slut for me?” He questions. Your mouth drapes up the expense of him, saliva dripping from your lips as you turn to look up at him with swollen eyes and burning cheeks.

“Yes sir.” Nodding while blinking up at him. You’re sure the mascara that coated your lashes is all over your cheeks and streaked along the hollow of your eyes. You’re sure that Harry loves the damage he’s done to you.

“Gonna take my dick like the good girl you are? Huh? Don’t you want to be a good girl?” You moan at the words while nodding your head again at him. Whatever he wanted to do, you allowed. In the mind space your in, he could do no wrong.

“Yes sir.”

You let him push you off his lap and find his place behind you, handling you roughly as his hands leave your hair to position you better in the frame of your laptop. His fingers undo your bralette before pushing your back deeper into the duvet. His hands gliding down the smooth expense before tugging your skirt higher on your hips.

“Such a pretty pussy.” You hear behind you. Cock dragging down your aching heat.

“Please sir, I wanna feel you.” You moan, voice strained and raspy. Harry laughs behind you. Deep chuckle as if he’s amused by your comment. “Please sir, haven’t I’ve been good?” You beg, ass pressing deeper into his cock, that it only allows a smack to go across your cheeks.

“I don’t know, have you?” Pressing his cock between your folds to slide in effortlessly. Your walls expand around him, damaged voice moaning out swears from him filling you up completely as his hips meet your backside.

“Why did you lie to me?” Harry taunts, drawing back till his head is breached between your hole until he thrusts back in aggressively.

“Why did you lie to them?” He continues, his hand leaving your covered hips and bringing your wrist to hold behind your back.

You can only moan at the drastic strikes of his cock in you. He’s barreling down your walls aggressively that you’ve grown completely numb to the pleasure, just letting him manhandle you to the point you’re not even control of your emotions, he’s the one controlling them.

“Answer me!” He demands, his chest leaning in to grab your hair in his hands and twist your head to look directly into the camera.

“Tell them, tell me, why’d you lie.” Your eyes float over the colourful screen with black words darting up and down. There’s tears brimming your eyes at his thickness abusing your hole so roughly.

“I don’t know sir.” You whine, your free hand not in Harry’s grasp is curling into the duvet as he pounds away at your cervix.

“You don’t know?” He questions, continuing to bruise your pussy restlessly. You shake your head in his hold while whimpering at the pleasure. “You want me to give you the answer, will that make it easy for you? Hm?” He’s diving down your walls with such violation your mind is in a different place.

“Yes sir, tell me.” You moan into the sheets, the soft light from the laptop is blurry under your gaze.

“Because you’re a dirty slut. Say it, say “I lied because I’m a dirty slut.”” Nodding your head into the sheets you feel lonesome tears begin to run down your face as you let him degrade you for everyone and him to enjoy.

“I lied because I’m a dirty slut.” Crying into the sheets as he continues to stroke your walls dangerously.

“That’s right.” Harry husks, the grip he has in your hair releasing as it runs across your face wiping your tears. “But you’re my dirty slut. My dirty fuck toy.”

Shallow breaths draw in from your clit throbbing in arousal, your pussy continues to accept his thrusts that glide with ease from your nectar, walls enveloping him comfortably as he strides in with rough urgency.

He looks over your features; mascara smeared all over your cheeks, eyes trained dazzlingly at the screen beside you, chest heaving with ease as your backside sounds in the room with the fluid between your legs joining. He loves that he can push you to your limits and you still find pleasure in his devious ways. He loves that you accept his intensity with your own greed for wanting more.

“My pretty fuck toy. Only I can make you feel like this.” His hand coming between your thighs to toy with your clit. Heavy breath releasing from your chest as you dip your head in acknowledgment.

“Making you this needy over my cock. I know you love it.” You whine at the comment, knuckles going white against the bedsheets.

“Yes, fuck, sir, I love it.” Whimpering with gaze completely blurring with tears accepting his intense thrusts.

“My pretty slut.” Harry’s fingers rub your bundle of nerves in rough circles as he continues to drive your nerves up the wall.

The ringing from the laptop doesn’t overshadow the ones in your ears. Your eyes roll to the back of your head with it digging into the sheets. Your thighs quiver against his barreling ones, warm waves of euphoria coat your body in pure ecstasy from your climax overthrowing you.

Harry is grunting behind you, his movements never slowing just continuing their hungry paste. His hand that was wiping away your tears goes to land smacks against your backside to add to your electrifying orgasm coursing through you.

“Want me to make you even prettier? Want me to make you beautiful?” He insinuates, palm leaving another mark against your skin as he fucks you into the mattress.

The addicting sensation clouds over you from being completely disoriented at the assault between your legs. Brain in fuzzy whirlwinds of pleasure at the aftermath of your climax.

“Yes sir.” Whining with every jolt of your body.

“Gonna make you the prettiest toy.”

His hips lunge into you once more, thickness dragging down your walls enticingly before they pull out, his creamy seed runs down your folds in long spurts as he tugs himself off in front of your pussy.

Disappointing cry trails out of your mouth at the disappearance of his cock leaving your heat, but you can feel his cum running down your lips, and you can feel his hands roaming amongst your ass cheeks again.

“Look at you,” Harry smiles breathlessly, his grip over you making your backside face the laptop and display your ruined hole to the viewers.

“Look at how pretty you are.” His hands spreading your cheeks to showcase your pussy dripping in his cum.

There wasn’t much you could even do in the moment, continuing to let him present you as his fuck toy to your followers. The action had you actually smiling smugly into the sheets.

“My pretty girl.” Harry is leaving his place to lean over and press kisses along the side of your face.

And that is how your night ends, with the notifications blaring in the background with tips of your viewers thanking you for your first show.

409 notes · View notes

flowerxbunnie · 5 months

Note

HI LOVE UR WRITING!

please can u do a fic where matt is super horny, so him and y/n have phone sex. and it feels so good, he can’t stop jerking, and ends up over stimming himself. and he’s like begging her for more and shit please omg.

“i’m wearing those silky panties u got me for our anniversary”

“i love the way u sound”

“i wish u were here w me”

“please, baby, please, one more”

“moan for me”

“feels so good”

SORRY I AM A SLUT FOR DIRTY TALK

One More

Matt x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, phone sex, sub!matt ish?

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

I pull my blanket up to my chin as I watch three dots dance around on my phone screen. Matt’s response is taking longer than usual, and I know exactly why.

im wearing the silky panties you got me on our anniversary ❣️

I blush as I read over my message again and again, scanning over the teasing photo I sent of my hip clad in black silk straps. I can’t help but imagine what he could be typing, how he could be reacting to my words. My smile drops as the bubble disappears, my message left on read for 6 minutes at this point.

I don’t have much time to be disappointed. My phone vibrates in my hand as his name flashes across my screen and I feel a surge of nerves, my blood pumping fiercely through my veins as my pulse quickens.

“Hello?” I speak lowly as I place my phone against my ear.

“What was that about baby?” Matt’s voice is deep and soft across the line, but still sends a shiver down my spine.

“What are you talking about Matty?” I feign ignorance, biting hard on my lip as my cheeks burn.

“Don’t play dumb,” his voice hardens, “You’re not gonna get me hard and then act like you don’t know how it happened.”

“Oh, did I?” I say with mock confusion. “I just really like these panties and wanted to show you. They remind me of you.” I trail off and put the phone on speaker, pulling on the strap against my hip and letting it hit my skin with an audible slap.

I hear a sharp inhale echo from my speaker followed by shuffling sounds.

“Baby don’t do this to me,” he croaks, “it hurts so bad and if I leave the house Nick and Chris will wake up.”

“Who said you have to leave?” I giggle and wait for his response.

“Can you talk me through it baby? Please, I need it.” His voice is pleading but still hushed.

“Mhmm.. are you wearing anything?” I question as I lean back onto my pillow and lay my phone beside me.

“U-uh.. just sweats.” He answers quickly.

“Touch yourself over them for me.” I say as seductively as I can muster, my own arousal growing and distracting me as I picture what he looks like right now.

“I… already was..” he admits, my cheeks burning hotter as I realize what all the muffled sounds have been.

“So naughty of you, Matthew. Couldn’t even wait a couple minutes hm?”

I hear whispered curses in response and I have to squeeze my thighs together, the throbbing between my legs growing ever so strong as I picture Matt palming himself with his veiny hands in his bed.

“Take everything off Matt. It’ll feel so good without all the layers won’t it?”

“Yeah, fuck. Hang on baby.” I hear more shuffling as his phone is tossed onto his sheets. “Okay done. Fuck, I wish you were here.”

“I am here baby, just not in the same way.” I answer, realizing my hand has made its way to the hemline of my panties, rubbing back and forth subconsciously. “Are you touching yourself Matt?”

I hear a hum in response before he speaks. “Y-yes. Keep talking. Your voice is so fucking sexy.” He sounds strained, his words barely coming out.

I dip my fingers below my panties and gasp lightly as I rub my swollen clit. “I’m t-touching myself too Matty. Fuck, it’s so wet.” I moan lightly as I slip one finger into my entrance.

I hear a groan from across the line followed by deep breathing. “Oh… fuck..” He goes silent after a couple of seconds and the only sound I can hear is him shuffling around in his bed.

“Did you cum?” I question, the pattern sounding awfully familiar.

“I did. Please baby, please keep going. I need more.” I hear wet sounds and I can perfectly picture how his fist is tightly gripping his cock and pumping it with need. “Please one more, I need it so bad.”

I curl my finger and hit my most sensitive spots, closing my eyes as I listen to Matt’s heavy breathing and try to imagine that it’s him pleasuring me.

“Moan for me baby. Don’t hold it back please, fuck, I need it.” He pleads, almost whining.

I stop holding back and allow myself to sink into the pleasure, my free hand slipping my bra down to expose my nipple so I can pinch it like Matt loves to do. My sounds fall from my throat freely and elicit even more from Matt.

“I feel so good Matt, fuck.. I wish it was your fingers inside of me.” I whine as I slip my middle finger in, savoring every sensation that comes along with the fullness.

“You don’t know how bad I wish you were riding me right now.” He groans, the wet pumping sounds speeding up with every passing second. “Your pretty little pussy would feel so good around me, fuck.”

My stomach tightens at the thought of his cock hitting every spot deep inside that would drive me crazy, the thought of his jaw hanging open with his eyes squeezed shut, the thought of his hands gripping my boobs as they bounce in his face.

“Matt I th-think I’m gonna cum.” I breathe out as I slip my fingers out of my entrance and use them to rub fast circles onto my clit.

“Please, baby. Please cum, let me hear you. Fuck, please.” He croaks, sounding louder in the speaker as he moves the phone next to his ear.

I feel my body tense as I climb to my peak before the tension breaks. I moan out Matt’s name as I cum, hearing strings of curses from the other side of the line as I tremble under my own touch.

“F…fuck.” I pant, trying my hardest to catch my breath.

“Fuck, it hurts baby. I need to cum but it’s so fucking sensitive,” he hisses, his voice strained and filled with concentration. “C-can you take a picture for me?”

“What does my Matty wanna see?” I blush at his request, picking my phone up and swiping my camera open.

“You. I don’t care. Just need to see you, please. I need to cum so bad baby. Please.”

I grin to myself, enjoying this desperate side of Matt. I pull my other bra cup down so both my boobs are exposed and hold my phone up, taking a photo of my hand grasped around my left one. I open our texts and send it, watching as the read receipt immediately pops up. He was waiting for it.

“Wanna cum on those pretty tits so bad.” He groans, a rasp growing in his voice. “Fuck, I need them in my mouth.”

I open my camera back up and take in the sight of myself, my hair disheveled from my orgasm and my cheeks flushed. I bite my lip and give the doe eyes to the camera that I know he loves as I snap another photo. He’s still swooning over the first photo as I send the next, and I bite my lip as I wait for his reaction.

“I- you look so… fuck..” his breathing becomes irregular, his groans and whines sounding through my speakers.

“Come on Matt, cum for me. You can do it, I know how bad you need it.” I whisper out.

“Say it again. Fuck, I need to hear you say it again.”

“Cum for me Matt. Let it all go baby.”

The sounds that flood through my speakers are lewd and pornographic. The sound of his hand slipping up and down over his cock as he pumps himself to his second orgasm, my name drawn out as he rides through it and spills his cum onto his stomach.

I smile to myself as I listen to Matt catching his own breath just as I did moments before. We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, no words needed as we relish in the moment.

“That was…” he starts, trailing off with a deep breath.

“I know.” I giggle, finishing his train of thought before he struggles too hard to try and come up with the right words.

“I’m saving those. Fuck, I feel like I could cum again just looking at them.” I hear a few faint sounding pumps before he winces. “Way too fucking sensitive.”

“You need some rest baby. Don’t overdo it.” I laugh, standing up and heading to the bathroom to clean myself up.

“Mmm, why do you have to be right all the time?” He teases in a raspy, tired voice.

“That’s just the way it goes I guess. Now go clean up before you wake up all crusty.” I joke as I turn my shower on to warm up.

“That’s actually disgusting.” He over dramatically gags and I hear a shuffle before I hear a door being opened.

“I love you, Matty.” I giggle, placing my phone on the counter.

“I love you, angel.” he replies before the line disconnects.

a/n i haven’t written in so long omfg the holidays have me FUCKED up. i hope you all enjoy desperate matt 😵‍💫

tag list: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo @christinarowie332 @fionaheartswomen

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit

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freemansgirl · 8 months

Text

video games pt 2

pairing: amber freeman x fem reader

genre: smut

warnings: g!p! amber, amber rubbing on your v, amber wears a ghostface costume as she fucks you, spanking, degradation, she takes a photo while she fucks you

words: 2.2k

part 1 | part 2

you felt your body being pushed towards the comfortable covers of amber’s mattress of her bed in her room. your back was leaning on top of the fabric, sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress due to amber pushing you into her the bed. your pretty, curious eyes looked up into amber’s lustful, hungry dark brown ones, wanting her to take you right then and there.

“been waiting for this moment so bad, babe, you have no idea.” she mentioned, leaning into your face as some of her dark black hair fell onto your forehead, signaling just how close she was to you. there was a look of admiration on her face, giving you a smile when she looked at your face from your body. she found you so beautiful, she considered herself very lucky to have someone like you.

her delicate, pink lips start to land on yours coming in for a passionate, hungry kiss. amber started to deepen the kiss, her hands roaming from your face to the rest of your body to bring you even closer to her than you already are. you could feel yourself moaning into the kiss, aroused by just how good it felt being in amber’s presence. your bottom half of your body started to feel extremely damp down there, internal heat being spread in your body.

when amber’s pale, soft hand started to come near your entrance, your wet folds met with her index finger. her index finger felt so damp with just how wet you are, there was a light-hearted, playful gasp that came out of her mouth. she tried to fight the ability to let out a laugh at how wet you are, it was just too cute. she stiffened back a laugh, holding her hands up to her lips to prevent anything from coming out. “my, oh my, you’re already so wet from me kissing you… gotta say, i’m quite flattered, baby.”

there was some heat that came up to your cheeks, flustered by amber’s words when she pointed out how wet you are. you tried to not feel embarrassed about it because you know how your girlfriend could get you aroused so quickly. you couldn’t really blame yourself because i mean…. it’s amber. she started to rub her thumb above your clit, grazing it in small circles while she kissed down on your neck. each kiss she planted onto your cheek felt heaven, her lips were so soft against your skin and you loved it.

you felt your back arch from how good she was rubbing your sensitive spots, letting out the prettiest little noises for amber. she started to smirk against your neck, letting out some seductive laughs while leaving more semi-sloppy, wet kisses on your neck. “you’re liking that huh, princess?” a teasing tone came from the pale-skinned girl, enjoying that she was the only person that could make you feel this good. you started to nod your head rampantly to her question, showing that you actually did like it.

the more she picked up her pace, the better the rubbing felt against your clit which drew out more moans. “amber, oh my god,

please…” you breathed out, closing your eyes for a second to just enjoy the moment as your mind took you places. you started to rub your hands all over her body, letting her grind against you. as you two enjoyed the moment, it came to an end once amber stopped rubbing her finger against your clit and moved away from the side of your neck. “wh…why’d you stop, ambs?” you whined, feeling yourself the corner of your lips tug downward to form a frown on your face. you couldn’t believe that amber actually stopped because of how good of a job she was actually doing to you.

amber didn’t respond to the question you asked her, she just got off of the bed to go to her closet. you just watched her with a semi-annoyed expression on your face, not sure what suddenly got into your girlfriend. yes, amber can be a tease sometimes when she took notice of your high and would abruptly stop but it could be… frustrating sometimes. you hoped she wasn’t neglecting your needs because why is a closet more important than whats going on in the moment? “well, amber?” you asked her again, impatience in your tone to see why she stopped since she didn’t respond the first time.

when hearing you call for her name, she turned to you to just be met with your upset, impatient face. you looked like a sad, puppy dog that just had its owner abandon it for a day. amber put a heart on her chest and gave you the most apologetic expression ever, her brows furrowing out of guilt. “i’m sorry, my baby.” she murmured, before continuing onto her next sentence, “just thinking about how i wanted to keep my word from earlier.”

with that being said, that’s when she pulled out her ghostface costume from her closet. oh, so that’s the word she meant… you remembered what she said now. she started to put it on her body, impatiently and quickly, at the excitement of bringing her fantasy to life. the idea of getting to fuck you like her favorite character off her favorite game was getting the absolute best of her. “turn your ass facing me.” amber commanded, asserting her dominance toward you as she started to approach you.

you started to immediately follow suit, turning your ass facing her body. there was a gentle thud of each footstep she took towards you, it urged of excitement, the closer she came to you. rough, smooth fingertips had ran small lines over the spine of your body, followed with light kisses right afterwards. your hips were grabbed towards amber, your ass hitting right against abdomen as you gasped lightly.

she started to let out a dry, semi-sinister laugh while looking down at you behind her ghostface mask. the sound turned you around to face her when she laughed, your delicate, apprehensive eyes peering into the mask's black eye sockets. you have no idea what she's doing, but you knew she had something planned. she quickly grabbed you by your head and pushed it into deep of the bed cover. suddenly, you felt a hard, quick jolt to the skin on your ass.

a muffled whimper flew out of your mouth instantly, reacting to the shock. “mm, baby, you make the prettiest, little whimpers for me…. i wonder how many more i could make.” your girlfriend hummed seductively, while bringing another hand onto your ass. as expected, you let out another whimper from her hard slap. the black haired girl began to hover herself above your back, then inched near your face.

“remember when you resisted my urge to let me hop off the game and fuck you?”

you felt yourself immediately get flustered, more than you already were out of embarrassment that… your girlfriend was actually trying to spank you. there was no words nor body movement from you, just silence. pissing off amber was always a mistake, but during sexual intimacy? even worse.

the lack of acknowledgment to her question really got amber annoyed, causing an eye roll to come from her. she took her leather gloved fists to grab a chunk of your hair to lift you up from the sheets.

“answer me, slut.”

you felt yourself hiss from how hard thay she pulled your hair. with that comment being thrown your direction, you immediately responded as fast as you could. “yes, yes, baby i do.” you nodded rapidly to her question, making sure she got your answer. the grip in her her hands on your hair loosened, you could feel your scalp calming down…. or so you thought.

your head was met back into the covers again with the force of amber’s hand pushing you into it. “well, since you made me play by your rules, you’re gonna play by mines. gotta make you remember who’s in charge here.” amber leaned into your ear, her whispers so soft yet so lustful. she caressed your shoulders to your back with her gloves, letting you get comfortable. then, she started back again with the spank… each spank bringing more sting and redness to your bottom. she had to teach you a lesson for teasing her instead of giving her easy access to you.

your eyes were brimming with tears from the pain you received, but nothing came out luckily. if your girlfriend saw this, you’d never hear the end of it. speaking of said woman, she kneaded your ass from the pain, gently messaging it. “good girl, you took all of those spankings so well for me.” she pulled her mask up to land a kiss right on your ass. just when you tried to get off of the bed, you were pinned right back down.

“nu-uh, (your name), i’m not done with you, yet.” she decided, mocking your tone of what you said to her earlier when you rode her. she grabbed you right back in the position you were originally in. your ass being right against her abdomen. the black robe was quickly pulled it up to reveal her hard, long 8 inch cock that’s been ready to enter you. your back was arched perfectly for her, one of the most beautiful sights she has ever seen of you. one of her hands grabbed your waist towards her entrance, the length making you moan loudly.

“you’re so big, baby.” you moaned, feeling it move inside of you then right back out. your words made your lover smirk, feeling extremely egotistical knowing she’s the only one that can draw moans out of you. amber began to pick up her pace, hitting your same spot over and over again as you let out moans. you felt your head start to fall back, along with your eyes rolling back. the pressure was too much but god was it just so damn good.

the way her dick just kept on hitting you made you feel like you were just so close to cumming. you closed your eyes, breath hitching so many times from how close you were to an orgasm. “ba—baby…” you called out for your girlfriend, breath barely a whisper.. hoping she could hear it, “i’m so… fucking clo—“

cut off by the hard thrust, you cursed underneath your breath, muttering a “fuck” because of how hard the thrust was. amber’s hips kept slapping against your ass, dick just kept getting faster and faster. it’s like she didn’t even care to show any mercy, and you know why. she loved seeing you like this.

being on the mattress in her own home on all fours, struggling to breathe and speak just from how passionate and intense the sex is, you were damn near gonna collapse soon at this rate. “amber, baby, please let me cum.” you whined for her, gripping the sheets of the mattress for support. amber took out a knife from underneath her bed, and placed it against your neck.

“don’t cum until i say so, got that?”

“mm…mhmm.” you replied back to her weakly, clearly out of it as you kept getting fucked against the sheets. you made sure to prevent any release from happening at any costs, you don’t wanna deal with any more knifeplay than what’s happening right now. the blade of the knife being pressed against your soft skin drew a little bit of blood, causing you to hiss. you had to bit your lips from the pain you just endured, trying to keep quiet. meanwhile, your girlfriend was not gonna stop until she felt satisfied with your performance in bed.

“i know, baby, i know it stings but you’re doing so wonderful for me. just keep going.” amber praised you, kissing all over your neck to your collarbone. she planted a soft bite to it, letting you know that you clearly belong to her. “what a pretty hickey.” she muttered, admiring what she left on your skin with a small smile. it was one of the best ones she ever gave you, she knew she wanted a picture of it to keep to herself. the pale skinned girl grabbed her phone camera from behind her pockets of the ghostface robe.

she extended the camera to where it’s in front of the two of you. when you saw the camera, you looked up with the most glossy yet lustful eyes ever as you saw the flash go off. “you’re gonna look so beautiful. you always do when you’re talking me.” she softly spoke, tucking her camera back into her pockets. she caressed your hair to have more access to your cheeks, kissing all over you.

getting a picture of you giving her backshots was the highlight of her sex. she wanted this to be the stopping point for the sex. amber soon realized that she had to cum soon, her pale, hard dick pulled from inside of your body. based off of amber’s body language of breathing heavily and shuddering, she had just came… and it was right over your ass too. “cum for me.” amber directed you, taking off any press of her blade against your skin.

you now began to cum all over her sheets too, finally finished with sex as of today. you let out a deep, heavy sigh from the release as your body began to go limp after amber was holding it up for support. “nice job, baby. amazing as always.” she kissed your forehead, and brought you closer to her embrace and held you tightly. you softly thanked her under your breath, clinging onto her arms as you laid beside her…. enjoying her company.

#amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x reader smut #scream x reader #scream x you #scream 5

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chlorinecake · 8 months

Note

What kind of lingerie would enha legal line like on you? You can add photos 😁

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Laced With Lust | 18+ REACTIONS

༉‧₊˚ PAIRING ⑅ enha!legalline x fem!reader

༉‧₊˚ WARNINGS ⑅ established relationships, language, kissing, unprotected sex, teasing, thigh riding, handjobs/fingering, dry humping, hair pulling, boob and light bondage play, overstim, not fully proof-read

༉‧₊˚ WORD COUNT ⑅ between 200-250 per member

𓊆이희승𓊇 Lee Heeseung 232

Heeseung’s a gamer, so it comes to no surprise that E-girl inspired lingerie would be a huge YES for him. Your boyfriend was probably busy playing computer games when you decided to pop around the corner dressed like THIS, instantly grabbing his attention… Trust me when I say this man almost drooled—

Your wrists were cuffed to each wooden post of the bed, securing your hands above your head as Heeseung drew you closer to your high. The speed of his thick fingers increased with your moans, making you feel dizzy.

"Hee," you moaned, craving more than just his fingers, but also wanting him to release your hands from the restraints.

"What is it, baby," he grinned, spitting on your pussy before stimulating your clit with his free hand, "didn't you get all dressed up so I could play with you? Don't tell me you wanna cut our fun short?"

"Fuck, don't stop," you nearly begged, balling your fist as your gummy walls clenched around Heeseung's fingers.

"You're so desperate to touch me, aren't you, baby?"

"Yes, Heeseung. Wanna touch you so bad," you whined, wrestling with the hand cuffs before he finally took them off.

For the next hour or so, you and your boyfriend did it in all your favorite positions, losing count of how many times you came. Let's just say, your neighbors could probably take a good guess.

𓊆박종성𓊇 Jongseong Park 220

I could totally see Jay being that one kid who had a crush on every animated bunny he saw on TV. So when you decided to dress up like a playboy bunny to surprise him when he came back from work one day… GURLLL!! I can already see him cumming on his little fuck bunny’s back, gripping your hips as he whispers filthy nothings in your ear ahhhhfcbhrfbch Whatever tf bunnies say, I’ll say it for Jay—

“You can take all of this, yeah?” He asked with a smirk, fucking his release back into you as he hit it from the back in doggy style.

“F-fuck,” you whined into the pillow, your toes curling at the sensation of Jay’s thickness rolling in and out of you at a tantalizingly slow pace. Mostly because that's all your cunt could handle...

“I wanna see that pretty face of yours as you struggle to speak with my dick inside you,” he grunted, grabbing your hair into a ponytail so he could meet your teary eyes. “Now use your words, baby.”

You let out a breath that you’d been holding in for a few seconds, feeling him twitch inside you as your pussy continued to swallow him, “I can take you, Jay,” you whimpered, kissing him on the lips, "all of you."

“Good girl.”

𓊆심재윤𓊇 Sim Jaeyun 218

Jake admires both your tomboyish and feminine side, as it reminds him that you’re not just his girlfriend, but his best friend, too. He would honestly prefer you to just (a) go braless, (b) wear a pair of his boxers, and (c) one of his oversized tee's. It just makes him feel all soft on the inside and hard on the outside when you wear his clothes—

“Babe, have you seen my Calvin Klein boxers?” your cute boyfriend called as he searched through his drawers.

“And why do you need those specifically,” you asked, waltzing up behind him with his back still turned to you.

“I have a photoshoot tomorrow, and you know how my agent feels about underwear not matching the brand,” he said with a sigh.

“Well, since you need them so badly, they’re right here,” you smiled, sitting on the bed in a seductive position.

“You want me to fuck you in exchange for MY underwear?”

“Please?” You asked shyly.

That must've been the magic word, because Jake met you on the bed like an excited puppy, snaking his hands under your shirt to fondle with your tits, "My schedule's a bit busy today, but this shouldn't take long," he smiled as you wrapped your legs around him, melting into each other's touch and kisses.

𓊆박성훈𓊇 Park Sunghoon 236

I think Sunghoon would be into the classic lingerie vibe: the kind of stuff you’d expect to find tucked away in someone’s closet on a pg-13 movie? Yeah, that. He prefers black over any color, simply because he finds it SEGGSY as hell, and if you wore heels TOO? RIP—

“Didn’t I already pay you this week?" your boyfriend asked playfully as he paced around the bedroom.

“Stop, Hoon, you know I’m not with you for your money.”

“Then all that leaves left is sex,” he smirked, taking in the black lingerie set you wore, “this is for me, isn’t it?”

“Only if I can be on top.”

He chuckled to himself, “you’re a brat, you know that?”

“And you’re mean,” you pouted, tugging at the waist of his pants before he abruptly changed his mind.

The way your heart skipped a thousand beats at this opportunity—

Sunghoon sat at the head of the bed, patting his lap for you to come closer. You started to take his pants off before he grabbed your hands, pulling your face to his, “not just yet,” he smirked, kissing you.

“Over the clothes first, princess, and if you do a good enough job, I might let you ride the real thing.”

You whined in the crook of his neck, grinding your hips against him in desperation as you craved his dick more and more with each grunt he made.

𓊆김선우𓊇 Kim Sunoo 220

I think Sunoo would be into lingerie with lots of lace and silk textures. Soft hues of pink or ivory are a plus, too, as he loves how gentle you look in those colors. To be honest, he’d probably find more pleasure in the dress up aspect of you wearing lingerie versus anything too sexual. Think of it as a couple bonding experience where you guys just drool over each other’s beauty while half-naked— SIKE

“That looks amazing on you, sweetie, but I have to fix this one thing,” Sunoo smiled, reaching his hands under your lace skirt to toy with the hem of your panties.

“Hey, this is supposed to be a dress up session, not show and touch,” you moaned, feeling his delicate fingers graze your sweet spot.

He giggled at how flustered you appeared, “I know, baby, it’s just that your underwear’s on backwards.”

“Yah, Sunoo, I can fix it myself!” You whined, feeling your face grow hotter as he pulled your panties down and past your ankles.

“Looks like someone thinks I look pretty nice, too,” he smirked, observing the wet patch at the seat of your underwear.

It didn’t take long before you ended up riding your boyfriend’s thigh while jerking him off, soiling your cute outfit after the first *of many* orgasms you shared.

𓊆양정원𓊇 Yang Jungwon 232

Finally, we have Jungwon, my comfort place… 🤧

Definitely a firm believer in less is more. He would probably feel a bit overwhelmed if you wore anything too revealing, so he prefers to stick with just a few peeks of skin here and there. Just don’t tease him if he blushes when you wear a cute lace bralette or high shorts, ‘cause he’ll make you regret it later—

“I’m so sorry, baby!” Your boyfriend yelped, observing your now red stained shirt, thanks to the cranberry juice he just dropped.

“It’s okay, Wonie, I know you’re clumsy,” you returned warmly, using a few napkins to clean the floor.

“Here, do you wanna wear my hoodie-“

“Nah, you’re good,” you said, taking off your shirt to reveal the white bra you wore beneath.

He couldn’t help but to blush at the sight, which led to you teasing him for it.

“Gosh, could you be any more easy?” You mocked before Jungwon pinned you against the fridge.

Your eyes wandered from his piercing gaze, and then to his broad shoulders that caged you in.

He took your face in his hands, passionately kissing you as his delicate hands grazed your waist. It didn’t take long for him to break from the kiss, looking back at your burning face with a smirk.

“Aww, you look so pretty when you’re flustered like this,” he cooed, walking away, but you grabbed his hand.

“Can we take this upstairs?”

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 Thank you so much for reading this fun request! Make sure to check my enhypen bookshelf for more interesting reads!

Taglist:

@fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @j-wyoung @rickysblkgf @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii @valhrts @lisaaannna @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @03sunoos @clarisabutterfliescupcake @yevene @j-wyoung

#enhypen #enha imagines #enhypen ff #enhypen headcanons #enha scenarios #enha ff #enha x reader #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #park jongseong #park jay #kim sunoo #enha smut #requested

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jasontoddsdarling · 4 months

Text

suggestive, 18 + | jason wears a locket with your photo inside and your initial outside.

you gave jason a men's locket necklace with his own initial engraved on one of the side and yours at the other.

he loved it so much. so much.

when you two are making love, he never takes his necklace off. his locket will graze at your skin. in the valley of your soft tits, between your collarbones, your neck, your lips. you love it. it'll hit you on your face when he's making love to you above you. it'll sensuality graze your back and your nape—when he wants you on your hands and knees and your stomach. and you love it.

one time, when he was above you, his locket was directly above your lips and you caught and bite it in between your teeth, your seductive gaze directed to his darkening beautiful eyes. it drove him crazy. long short story, you sport a lot of love bites on your exposed skin afterwards (and your ability to walk weaken for twenty four hours straight).

you love how he manifested his love by having your photo on the chain around his neck everyday. since you gave him the necklace and he put your photo on it himself, you have never seen him without it—when he's in the shower doesn't count, you've to persuade him to take it off so it'll stay long. even if he only wear the necklace occasionally, you know he loves you and he doesn't need to have you 24/7 on him but he does it anyway. it's his way of appreciating your love language of gifting him the necklace in the first place too.

he loves having the reminder of you with him every second of the day when he's not with you. he loves to grasp his locket on his palm whenever he needs a reassurance, it's like you there with him. he loves that when he's bored he can just open his locket and your picture will immediately draw a smile from his face.

when he put the the locket on his palm, he feels like his whole world is on his hand.

mariea's notes: midnight thoughts. brainrots. nothing to elaborate i am afraid it's already so clear. btw you can send me anything (prompts, ideas, questions, etc) to my ask box (mailbox 💌) and i will see what i can do about it.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #jason todd fluff #jason todd drabbles #mariea's drabbles #mariea's writing #queue <3

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navybrat817 · 11 months

Text

Sweet as Cherry Pie

Pairing: Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve comes home with great news, but you're not as happy as you should be. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Steve Rogers (yep, he's a warning and a little mean) A/N: Steve and Cherry's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You always enjoyed baking. It gave you something to do with your hands and the hobby was both simple and challenging. It required focus for measuring and following directions, but you also had fun with your creations. It seemed to be one of the only ways you could express yourself now, which clouded your feelings when you focused too much on it.

I will not feel sorry for myself. I have a good life. The best life.

Being the wife of Steve Rogers was a dream come true. The man was handsome, loving, a hero. The all American dream wrapped up in the perfect package. He worked hard to provide you both with a lovely home and didn't ask for much in return. Only that you follow his orders and be dutiful.

A good wife obeys her husband.

You idly wiped down the counter as you waited for the oven timer to go off, glancing at one of the photos Steve placed near the window. While he smiled from ear-to-ear, yours was a little more reserved. He loved drawing and taking photos of you, but there weren’t any photos of the two of you before you moved to The Haven. They were somehow lost in the move.

Not that I remember packing any of my stuff, but my old place doesn’t matter, does it?

The sound of Steve’s motorcycle pulling into the garage pulled you from your distracted thoughts. He normally called if he was going to come home early. The sound of the door would indicate if he was back for a good or bad reason. Either way, he’d take his mood out on your body. You had to look presentable.

A good wife lives to please her husband.

You threw your apron off and rushed to your room to put on the cherry scented perfume he liked. He enjoyed it because it was seductive and sensual, sweet and tart, good enough to eat. As if on autopilot, you applied it to the same four spots: behind your ear, at the base of your neck, your wrist, and behind your knee. You retouched your lips next, staring at the tube of lipstick once you finished. It wasn't a color you wore until you moved in with him.

Steve picked it because he knows best.

When you looked at your beautiful reflection in the mirror, the urge to smash it began to surface. A flickering flame grew within you, threatening to spread like wildfire as you dropped the lipstick into the sink. There was nothing wrong with looking pretty for your husband. You just wished the person staring back at you was one you recognized.

I’m Cherry. I’m Mrs. Steve Rogers. I’m happy.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called to you before he gently shut the door. He was in a good mood at least. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

You straightened your dress and brushed off any negativity that bubbled under your skin as you went to greet him. Not a single blonde hair of his was out of place as he took in the sight of you. The need to impress him took over your thoughts. “Hi. Cookies are almost done,” you said, pressing your red lips to his cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come home so soon.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see my beautiful wife,” he asked as he slipped off his shoes and guided you toward the kitchen. Any excuse to touch you, he did. “Why? Are you not happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you,” you said as you grabbed an oven mitt. The timer went off a second later and his eyes didn’t leave you as you carefully took the sheet out. “I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Everything’s great,” he said, inspecting the cookies as you set them on the stove. You knew it was a wonderful batch without tasting them. The perfect man, he expected perfection in every extension of him. Which is why you didn’t make mistakes with any of your baking or cooking. "I have the best news.”

"Oh? What is it?" you asked curiously.

"Bucky’s married!" he said, taking you by the waist to twirl you around. “Can you believe it?”

"Married?" you repeated, not as happy as your husband. The news should’ve excited you since Bucky was his best friend, but it confused you. "I didn't know he was seeing anyone."

"No? I swore I told you he had his eye on someone,” he said with a condescending chuckle. “Makes me think you don’t pay attention when I speak to you, but that can’t be it, right?”

You went rigid in his grasp when he smiled. It reminded you of a demon, the shades of red and darkness showing in his eyes and perfect row of teeth. “It must’ve slipped my mind. Silly me,” you tried to giggle.

Like so many other things.

You didn’t relax until he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Because you’re so busy taking care of me, which I appreciate,” he praised you, his smile softer. Kinder. “And it’s better most days when I do the thinking for you.”

You bit your tongue so hard you almost drew blood, wanting to say that you were more than just a pretty face. The words didn’t come though. “You know best, Steve” you said as you plastered a smile on your face, your voice somewhat hollow after his insult. “And I love taking care of you.”

If he noticed your lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t say so. “Back to the good news,” he said, swaying with you even though there was no music. “It was a quick engagement and they didn’t want to wait. I wish I could’ve been at the ceremony, but I had that mission and I don’t blame him one bit for not waiting.”

“I’m sure he would’ve loved for you to be his best man.”

“He would’ve, but I'm happy that he’s happy. When you know, you know,” he said, tapping the tip of your nose. “Like the moment I met you. I knew you were going to be my wife."

Your smile faltered a little. It was difficult some days to remember just how you two came to be Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. You knew you loved him, but the actual process of falling for him? The build up of the relationship? It was like there was a chapter missing.

The past is the past and I have everything I need in the present.

Steve looked at you expectantly as you blinked. You needed to focus. “Just like I knew you’d be my husband.”

He hummed, seemingly pleased with your response. "We're going to meet her soon. Will you do me a favor, please? Make her feel welcome?" He suggested, but it was more like a command. He sometimes liked to phrase things in ways that made it sound as if you had a say in the matter, but his word was law. “Bucky’s my best friend and I want you two to be best friends.”

"Of course. It’ll be nice to have a new friend.”

“And once she’s settled in, I know they’re going to start trying for a family,” he went on, placing his hand on your stomach. “Which means we can try, too. Our kids can grow up together, the way Bucky and I did. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

Steve would be the best father. He deserves a family. So does Bucky.

“So wonderful,” you whispered, afraid you’d cry if you raised your voice. You wish you knew why the thought of having children with the man you loved scared you.

“Maybe we can start practicing,” he said, his voice huskier as he gripped your hips. “A bit of dessert before dinner.”

You didn’t protest as he backed you against the counter. Your body would welcome him home the way it always did. He’d please you as you pleased him.

“And Cherry?”

“Yes, Steve?” you asked as he dipped his head to inhale your perfume.

“Make a cherry pie for me to send to Bucky’s house. I don’t think he plans on leaving anytime soon and he isn’t letting his wife leave the bed. We can’t let them go hungry now, can we?”

“No, we can’t,” you replied, closing your eyes as he pushed your dress up.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered.

Happy husband. Happy wife. Happy life.

All good in the neighborhood, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #disturbia au #steve and cherry #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

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yoshida-chiyo · 5 months

Text

"let me take care of you"

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: explicit sexual content, bdsm dynamics, domination, use of lube, strong language

word count: approx. ~500

disclaimer: No images used in this post belong to me. All credits to respective creators. Contact for credit/removal. Your work is valued.

author's note: This narrative contains explicit content intended for mature audiences. minors dni.

As soon as he entered the room, Heeseung knew he was in for a wild night. You had been teasing him all day with suggestive texts and photos. Although he had been trying to play it cool and act unfazed, he couldn't deny the growing anticipation in his stomach.

You were sitting on the bed, dressed in one of his button-up shirts and a pair of lacy black panties. Your hair was in a messy bun, and a mischievous smile played on your lips.

'Hey, sweetheart,' Heeseung greeted, already feeling his heart race.

'Hey, baby,' you purred, patting the spot beside her on the bed. 'Come here.'

Heeseung eagerly walked over to her and sat on the bed, his eyes fixed on you. He could feel the heat already radiating off of you, and it only made him want you more.

You leaned in to kiss him but pulled back at the last second, leaving him breathless and wanting. 'I want you to lay down and let me take care of you tonight,' you said, your voice low and seductive.

Heeseung didn't need to be told twice. He lay back on the bed as you crawled on top of him, straddling his waist and sending shivers down his spine.

You began kissing down his neck, leaving a trail of fire in your wake. Heeseung could feel himself getting turned on already, his body responding to your touch.

'Fuck, baby,' he cursed, his hands gripping your waist tightly.

You smiled against his skin, knowing you had him right where you wanted. You continued to leave a trail of kisses down his chest, stopping to pay special attention to his sensitive nipples.

Heeseung moaned and arched his back, his hands running through your hair. 'Please, don't tease me,' he begged.

You chuckled and sat up, straddling his hips. You leaned down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, your hands running up and down his chest and causing him to shudder with pleasure.

As you kissed, Heeseung could feel himself getting lost in the sensation. He knew you were purposely trying to overstimulate him, and he couldn't help but love every minute of it.

You pulled away from the kiss and sat up, a mischievous glint in your eye. 'I want to try something new tonight,' you said, reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a small bottle of lube.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow but didn't protest as you poured a generous amount onto your hand. You began stroking him slowly, your eyes locked on his.

'Shit,' Heeseung moaned, his body responding instantly to your touch.

You continued to stroke him, increasing the pace and pressure. Heeseung could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. Just as he was about to come, you stopped and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

'Tell me, who makes you feel this good?' you asked, your voice dripping with seduction.

'You do,' Heeseung moaned, his body trembling with pleasure.

You smiled and leaned back up to kiss him, your hand still stroking him slowly and expertly. Heeseung could feel himself getting lost in the sensation, his mind foggy with pleasure.

With one final stroke, he cried out and came, his body shaking with the intensity of it. You continued to stroke him until he was spent, then you leaned down to kiss him again, your hands running through his hair.

'You're amazing,' Heeseung whispered against your lips.

'So are you, baby,' you replied, a satisfied smile on your face.

Note: Please refrain from reposting my work. If you appreciate it and would like to share, kindly link directly to the original post. Thank you for respecting the effort and creativity put into this content.

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aurorawritestoescape · 7 months

Text

SURVEILLANCE

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (in established relationships with m!oc/not named)

Summary: Javier's been surveilling your boyfriend and has to listen to everything you two are saying. And doing. So one day he does something really unprofessional.

Tw: 🔞mdni smut voyeurism, m!masturbation, Javi is a little obsessed with you, dirty talk, lots of horny daydreaming, piv, threesome, dp, breeding kink, swearing, lmk if I missed something

Word count: 1,8k

A/n: gif by @azertyrobaz Thank you @milla-frenchy for helping me find the perfect gif and your undying support🫂😘

Javier is sitting at his desk in the office, fiddling with the headset cord and staring at the photo of you peeking out of a folder. He sees just the top of your head and your eyes. Your gorgeous eyes looking up and to the side at someone next to you. They’re full of love, affection and something animalistic, instinct induced. He wishes you were looking at him like that.

The DEA has been surveilling you for almost a month. Well not you but your dickhead of a boyfriend. He was one of Escobar’s people, just a middle man, but they believed that they could gather some useful information by closely monitoring him and his associates. The DEA began direct surveillance - tailing him and you, taking pictures and documenting everything. They also bugged your boyfriend’s place and could hear everything that was said and done there.

Usually surveillance was a tiring and boring process, like searching for a gold nugget in a huge pile of dirt. But not this time. Not with you involved.

When they began the operation Javier tried to stay impartial to you as well as everything and everyone connected to the target. For some fucking reason he couldn’t do that. When he heard your voice, the way you talked and carried yourself something woke up inside him. Something that was dormant and pushed out of his life, again and again. He heard your voice and remembered himself younger, longing to touch and be touched, yearning for connection, as well as passion and lust. His desires were satiated by meaningless hookups, fleeting affairs suffocated by the amount of stressful work. Javier liked it this way, as he didn’t see himself settling down for a quiet family life.

And then he heard your voice. Soft and quiet, yet powerful in its seductive beauty.

They all took shifts to listen in on your boyfriend and you every morning, day and night. Javier couldn’t miss anything as every minor detail could lead to a breakthrough. The first time you two had sex he had to listen.

To Javi’s surprise you loved talking during sex. The dirtiest phrases were flying into his ears and straight to his cock. “Si, papi! Like that, grab my tits. Oh yes, fuck me harder.” He had to adjust himself several times and couldn’t wait to leave work to visit one of his prostitutes.

The second time he realized where it was going by the kissing noises so he took off the headset and waited for you to finish. He felt dirty and creepy listening and getting turned on.

Instead he took more direct surveillance shifts following you two and that’s where another trap was waiting for him. On top of your filthy little mouth and banging body you turned out to be nice. Lovely even. You would help your elderly neighbours, look after your little sister whenever your parents asked and glow with genuine happiness playing with her in the park. He saw you talking to the other kids there, giving your warmth generously to them and his lips would involuntarily curl up in a smile. For a second or longer Javier imagined you pregnant with his child, carrying his love inside you. Your belly round under that summer dress, breasts spilling out of the neckline, ripe and ready to feed his child. He saw the moment he’d put his seed into you - your legs on his shoulders, him folding you in half by his weight, thrusting his cock deep and hard. He’d pump you full of his hot cum and leave his cock inside you for a night so it would stick. He’d have a family with you. He’d have you.

Javier wasn’t delusional, he knew you weren’t his. And you seemed to really love your boyfriend. Yet the son of a bitch surely didn’t deserve the way you looked at him.

When Javi was the one to tail you two he easily could spot the desire on your pretty face, your cheeks flushed, eyes blown out, chest heaving. You seemed insatiable, always hungry for a touch, a kiss. You’d hold your boyfriend’s hand walking down the street, rest your head on his shoulder standing in a queue, grind against his body dancing in a bar. You were gorgeous.

The nights out were the worst. You always wore a skimpy dress showing off your soft curves, or a pair of tight jeans hugging your butt perfectly. The way you danced drove Javier insane - your hips swaying with the beat, hands snaking up and down your body, touching yourself in all the places Javi wanted to kiss and lick you. He imagined being there with you, pressing his broad chest to your back, holding your waist close to him and kissing your neck, you two moving rhythmically with the music. He’d take your chin in his hand to make you look at him and kiss you, squeezing your breast and pushing his hard-on in between your asscheeks. He’d take you home and rip the clothes off you like a wolf impatient to devour a bunny. He’d suck, bite and then kiss better every inch of your sweaty body until you begged him to fuck you. He’d smirk and place his hands on your inner thighs pushing them open and lowering his face to your pussy, “Papi’ll make you come a few times first, how about that?”

Javi rubs his face as the slapping sounds in his ears get louder. He leans back in his chair and lifts the hips to ease the pressure on his aching cock. He already feels the dampness on his skin. He must have been leaking precum for some time now. You’ve been making out probably on your bed, your soft whimpers slowly hardening his cock. Javier drops his head back with a deep sigh and closes his eyes. You’re full on moaning in his headphones now and he adjusts them to hear you better. His mind tells him that he needs to stop, get out of here, have a smoke. But then the image of you appears behind his eyelids, so clear and vivid that his breathing hitches for a moment. His imagination feeds on the way you sing right into his ears and Javier sees you caged in by his own body, squirming and pleading, “Fuck me, Javi. Te necesito.”

The sounds you’re making being used by another man’s cock shoot straight to his member. He’s throbbing for you, he can already feel the pulsations against his skin.

Javier can’t take it anymore. The desire seems so powerful it burns like fire behind his eyelids. He opens his eyes and looks down at his huge bulge. His hand slides down to his crotch and he palms himself through the jeans.

“Your cock’s so big, papi! My little pussy can barely take it.”

Filthy girl! A moan escapes his lips joining the one you’re making in his headphones.

He quickly bites his lip to shut himself up. Fortunately everyone’s left for the day, but he’s still at work. Javier undoes the zipper and his cock springs out of its confines and bobs dripping on Javi’s shirt. He curses seeing a few wet spots staining the fabric. He hastily takes a hold of his weeping member keeping it head up and spreads the liquid left over the tip with his thumb.

“Rub my clit, papi, yes, like this, wanna come on your big dick,” you whine with need in your voice and Javier groans as another drop of precum beads and then slides down on his hand. His arousal mixes with anger. Why is it affecting him that much? He’s not a fucking teenager getting a boner every time he sees a pretty girl. Why did his dick take over his mind and senses? “Pendejo!” Javier lets go of his cock and gives it a slap on its side with an open palm. His stiff cock is swaying from side to side and Javi snarls watching it grow even bigger. The pain adds to the pleasure and the need becomes unbearable. He gives in.

Javier spits into his hand and starts off slow, jerking his length with short strokes feeling its hot soft skin under his calloused hand.

“Can I suck on your thumb, papi, while you’re fucking me? I miss your cock in my mouth.”

You cry out the fucker’s name after a hard thrust and then your sounds are muffled apparently by the finger in your mouth. First Javi drives away the thoughts of the other man. He shuts his eyes seeing you again in his mind but with his cock buried deep inside your glistening pussy, his balls hitting your ass as your breasts are bouncing after every slam of his hips. Javi’s mind is on fire and his hand starts moving faster. Up and down, up and down. He twists his wrist from time to time and he hears that you’re close too. He wants to jump into the abyss together with you, and listens carefully, concentrates on your breathing, trying not to miss that sweet sound, a tell of your climax hitting you. He’s heard it many times by now and imagined it even more, alone in his bed, in the shower, even with another woman. That sound pushes him over every time, makes his cock erupt on his hand or in another pussy. He's pumping his cock vigourously, roughly without pity. He hears the other man’s groans as the fucker must be close as well. At the back of his mind Javi registers how hot this forbidden threesome is. He can’t help but see the three of you in a bed together. Your body splayed over your boyfriend’s, front up and Javi’s between your gorgeous legs. Two cocks sliding into your little pussy at the same time making you whine and grip the sheets. He’d bend over to take your nipple into his mouth and after finding a steady rhythm, they’d fuck you together until you are spasming around the two cocks.

“Si, si, like that, papi,” you squeal and Javi feels his balls tighten. You make THAT sound and when you hold your breath he knows you’re coming, your muscles tight, eyes shut, hands gripping your knees to keep your legs open so he could see your pussy contracting around his cock, clit twitching, your juices soaking his dick. All he hears now is squelching noises of your pussy being stuffed full of another man’s cum and Javi snarls and comes hard, shooting his hot seed all over his jeans, hand and the cord. Globs of cum spill from his cock and slide down his length. He doesn’t care about the mess and milks it to the last drop. Javi’s panting hard, you two echoing him in the headphones. He lets go of his softening cock and stares at your folder on his desk. His mind is finally clear. He must have you.

—————

Pendejo-dumbass

Papi- daddy

Te necesito- I need you

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!💖

Tag list: @ghoulettesinspace @iamasaddie @starkovli @missannwinchester @lucyisdoingfine @marysucks-blog

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #javier peña x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena #narcos x reader #narcos fic

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kymerawrites · 7 days

Text

Stalker!ghost x reader (inspired by the serie YOU)

Simon”ghost” Riley, after a mission in New York he goes missing from his team the task force 141, they don’t know where he went but it was evident that he started stalking a woman in particular

Simon stands at the edge of the roof looking out over the lit up city. He takes the cigarette in between his fingers and inhales the smoke before breathing out. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, his thumb scrolling through the photos and land upon her’s. A woman he had become very fond of. So much that he’s been stalking her from afar for months now.

He inhales the cigarette before breathing out the smoke and pocketing his phone.*

“Looks like I have some more homework,”

Simon looks at his watch and smiles sinisterly before taking one last puff of the cigarette. He looks over the edge but rather than jump down to the next rooftop, he disappears into the shadows.

Simon’s Pov:

Simon follows the woman from a distance, blending in with the shadows and staying out from her line of sight.

”You really should be more careful in this city. A pretty woman like yourself should be very careful,”

Simon mutters under his breath before continuing following her through the city streets, his heart racing with every step he gets closer to her.

After a while, the woman arrives at her apartment. She pulls out her keys and opens her door before stepping inside. Simon waits a few minutes before making his way to her building. He looks around to make sure no one but him is around before climbing up the fire escape.

Simon looks into her window to see the woman in the kitchen making a meal for herself. With a quick and calculated movement, he quietly enters through the window, entering her home.

Simon looks around the apartment, admiring how neat and clean her place is. He takes silent steps as he further investigate the place, taking in the scent of her perfume and her living presence. He finds himself in the bedroom a few minutes later and spots the bed.

Simon couldn’t help but smile when he saw her pillow in particular. He carefully sits down on the bed and grabs the pillow before hugging it close and taking a deep breath of her scent.

Simon hid under her bed as fast as possible, as she entered the room he could smell her scent.

“She smells so nice,”

*He thinks to himself as he closes his eyes and imagines her laying in his arms, feeling her delicate skin and hearing her gentle voice.”

Simon watches her enter the bedroom from under the bed and holds his breath. He can feel his chest heaving faster with excitement as she strips down in front of him and changes her clothes.

Once she is done changing, Simon slowly and carefully crawls out from his spot and stands behind her.

He grabs her wrists and locks them behind her back with one of his hands while the other tightly covers her mouth. Simon smirks as she tries to squirm away before leaning in close to her ear, his voice low and seductive.

”Surprise love”

I looked from behind to see Simon, a guy I was recently texting. I was oblivious to the fact he was standing infront of me “Simon! How did you get in here?”

Simon chuckles softly, keeping her pinned in place. “It’s not that hard when your window is unlocked and you’re not paying attention to your surroundings,”

He runs the tip of his nose along her neck, inhaling the scent of her perfume. “God, you smell heavenly.”

With his free hand, Simon grabs her hair and tugs on it, forcing her head back and exposing her neck to him. He presses his lips against her soft skin, leaving an array of kisses down her neck.

He presses his body against her, the heat between them growing with every passing second.

Simon’s hand trails down her body, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps. He grabs her hip and holds her in place before roughly biting down on her shoulder, unable to hold back his desire for her any longer.

Simon’s mind swirls with a mix of excitement and desire as he explores her body with his hands. He releases her wrists from his grip, but his free hand still firmly covers her mouth as he continues to kiss and bite at her neck and shoulder.

”Such a good and pretty little girl for me…”

He gently spins her around so she’s facing him, his hand finally uncovering her mouth. Simon gazes at her for a moment, his eyes admiring every inch of her before he grabs her thighs and lifts her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carries her over to the bed.

He places her down on the bed and crawls on top of her, pinning her wrists above her head. He takes a moment to look at her, his eyes filled with both desire and affection before kissing her passionately and deeply.

As Simon kisses her, his other hand wanders down, sliding underneath her shirt and touching her sensitive skin. He pulls back from the kiss, his breath heavy and his voice low.

”I’ve wanted this for so long… you have no idea…”

His hand trailing up to her chest, his fingers gently stroking over her chest.

His lips move down to her neck once more and he kisses and nips at the skin. He moves further down, slowly pushing up the hem of her shirt to reveal more of her body. He begins to slowly kiss down her stomach, the desire to touch every inch of her growing with each passing second.

Until the doorbel rang, I stood up abruptly and answered the door to find my tinder date I would have met up with today

Simon watches her get up to answer the door, his disappointment at the interruption evident on his face. He listens as she answers before slipping away to hide behind her dresser, out of sight but still close enough to hear the conversation.

A man at the door stood with a bouquet of roses, a cheesy smile on his face as he looked at her.

”Hi, you must be Y/N? I’m Dan,”

He extended the bouquet towards her with his other hand behind his back, hiding a nice gift he had gotten for her.

Simon’s fists clenches as he watches the interaction, his desire to be the only one she should be with strong. He could feel the need to eliminate this man, get rid of the competition, but he restrains himself from doing so.

In the next few days he watched Dan closely ready to attack at any moment. And today was the day when Dan got lost in an alleyway

Simon instantly threw a rock at dan’s face leaving him screaming in pain

“She’s mine you hear me? She belongs to me only.”

His voice was dark and terrifying. He was ready to kill and even die for Y/N, in a heartbeat.

“It seems ur time with “y/n is up pal.”

And so he attacked leaving the man dead in the alleyway. Having Y/N all for himself. He checked her location and went where she was hanging out.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #oneshots #simon riley

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hwajin · 1 year

Text

#! — [ 19:28 ] Lee Minho

— gn!reader // very suggestive — basically just lino and yn horny for each other but make it soft <3

There were days you'd feel horrible, lazy to have stayed in bed til the sun went down again. Days where you were unproductive and hated it, felt like work needed to be done, as though a break was so undeserved, so unimaginable to be granted. But not today. Today you were glad, thankful even of the fact you didn't leave the softness of your sheets for even a second, entangled in the blankets as though you were part of them, as if you've turned into soft cushions yourself. And Minho with you, the whole day, from when both of you awoke in the early hours of the day, bodies lazily wrapped around each other, words still soft and reluctant to leave lips, up until now, after hours and hours of laying together, laughing together, simply existing in each others presence. And after hours and hours of making love, so soft and sweet, tender lust never seeming to die out. It was almost as if your bodies renewed the neediness whenever you thought you were at your limit, whenever it seemed impossible to be wanting the other even more, to be this much more desperate to show nothing but adoration in sinful acts. Because words never seemed to be enough.

And even after hours and hours of touching, kissing and heavy breathing, none of your hands ever came to a halt. Minho's fingers danced across your skin, tracing the shapes of the streetlights that have started to illuminate the streets slowly and have made their way into your room, painting your body in the prettiest colors of orange and yellow, making your skin glow so heavenly and in effortless beauty Minho felt like he needed to take a picture right there, right now. Though a picture would never do your justice, would never be able to capture you in your true form, so he let it be, clicked an imaginative camera somewhere within him, taking a photo in memory only for him to keep.

His hand suddenly grabbed onto your hips, squeezing the skin lightly yet sturdy enough to elicit a soft whine out of you, hours of lovemaking leaving you sensitive to the touch and eager for more. And Minho couldn't possibly leave it uncommented. He repeated the sound you let out, mocking you lovingly in the process, your reaction priceless as you blushed and smacked him across his chest, friendly so and never enough to draw pain. He threw his head back in laughter, enjoying your flusterness, urge awakining in him yet again, to be closer to you, to kiss you and close all and every sort of distance between your bodies.

"Don't laugh at me, I swear to god-."

Far louder and more laughter filled the room at that, and you couldn't help but join in on your boyfriend's happiness. Surely at your expense, yet your heart made a little jump whenever the sound of his giggles filled your eyes.

"It's cute though, that I got you whining like that with just my hand on your hip."

He was closer to you now, itching nearer to you on the mattress. His hand yet hasn't left your hip, held a tight grip on your body. And his eyes were so seductive, held a depth in them that made you shiver.

"How about we just turn all the lights off and continue-- making love for the rest of the night... what do you say?"

@etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @diue @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @meloohmel @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie @lix-ables @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @sstarryreads @svintsandghosts

#lee know imagines #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know scenarios #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines

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sugawhaaa · 11 months

Text

Lee Know X reader

"Kitty?"

Pairing::Dom!idol!Minho x sub!fem!reader

Warnings::smut

Word count::1,966

Genre::role play, oral (fem reciveing) fingering, sex toys, slightly rude Minho (nothing serious at all lmao)

A/N:: THE WAY I HAD TO GOOGLE ABOUT VIBRATORS BAHAHAHAHA

songs to listen to while reading::

You couldn't help but laugh at yourself as you looked in the mirror. You recently got this kitty themed lingerie set that was second hand which was kinda scary. But it was very cheap considering you were not the first to own this set. You weren't 100% sure if Minho would like it, sure he likes cats but does he like lingerie? As often as you have spicy hours with Lee Know you don't know much about his sexual preferences. He's not very expressive in bed which doesn't help either…

You turned around in the mirror to look at the cat tail between your legs and your cheeks flushed. "What the hell am I doing right now," you whispered to yourself. You looked at yourself in the mirror again trying to process the current outfit you were wearing. You put on a lot of accessories so there was much to look at and critique. You really wanted Minho to love how you look. You want him to do that thing where he zones out while looking at your body before pouncing on you and keeping you entertained for HOURS. Though he might be tired after his long day by the time he gets home and he might just snuggle you.

You took some photos in your outfit including some suggestive ones. As embarrassed as you felt about them you were tempted to send them to your boyfriend. You laid on your shared bed thinking about whether to send it to him or not. How would he respond? You decided to just send it to him, but you needed to take a special one just for him. You got on the floor and tried a few poses in front of your phone that was propped up by some random things from the floor. You then found a perfect pose.

You made a sort of w shape with your legs and placed your hands between your crotch. Your arms pressed tightly together extenuating your breasts. You snapped a photo before immediately grabbing your phone to send it to Minho. You tapped the little send button and typed up a simple message.

•love you~♡

It wasn't long before a little "seen" notification came to your phone. You freaked out and waited for Minho to start typing. The three little bubbles started their dance of anticipation when a message popped up.

•babe you can't just send me that at work.

Oh God, do you make him mad? He'd never get this mad over just a photo though…

•I'm coming home right now.

•don't move a muscle, sit right there for me like the good girl you are

His last message had your jaw dropping and your feet kicking. The blush on your face spread and you started getting excited for Minho to show up. You sat in front of the door waiting for him, like a damn cat. Maybe Minho really is into this whole role play thing…

You sat impatiently waiting as you started yourning for Lee Know. His hands, his breath, his lips, his tongue, his dick everything. You started fantasizing about what he'd do to you when you got home and you were already wetting yourself. That's when the door opened to a tired Lee Know. You stood up to greet him but you were met with a hand.

"No, no, sit," he demanded you with a stick of his finger to the ground. You did as he said and sat back down on the floor. "There's one thing I noticed your outfit is missing," he said seductively as he sat down in front of you. You looked at him confused. "Close your eyes," he said as he kept his left hand behind his back. You shut your eyes and felt a warm leather wrap around your neck and a cold bell. It was all attached to a chain including yourself. You opened your eyes in shock observing the collar around your neck. You followed the chain with your eyes to find the other end of it wrapped around Lee Know's wrist. "Oh you're so damn cute when your surprised," he said as he rubbed his hand against your hot cheek.

He started inching closer to you and made you sit on his lap like a kitten. You blushed and avoided his dark, lustful, eyes scanning your body. "Oh are you shy now~?" He teased as he rubbed your back with his cold hands.

"I just didn't think you'd like it that much…" you said looking down at your thighs as you fiddled with the metal hearts on your stockings.

"Excuse me?" He said with a stern look and a furrow of his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I love it?" He said, sounding almost mad?

"I don't know…you never tell me your sexual interests," you said shyly.

"I'll let you in on my biggest turn on,"he said leaning into your ear to whisper, "You," he said with a grin before picking you up bridal style. He never fails to make you feel like a precious woman. He set you down on the bed and told you to sit still. You did as he said but your eyes didn't. You watched his every step. Minho stood at the bedside before taking his shirt off. You stared at his bare back as if you haven't seen it a thousand times before. He then went over to your nightstand and opened the first drawer, he rummaged through it a bit before pulling out your vibrator.

"How did you-!?" You got flustered at his success.

"Oh come on you weren't too secretive about using this," he said as he waved it around before setting it on the bed. He crawled over to you and propped you up on the massive amount of pillows on your bed. He instantly started licking your shoulder knowing exactly how you like it. You let out small mewls as his warm, wet, tongue grazed over every inch of your neck and shoulders. There was no concern of any members walking in so he could do whatever the hell he wanted to with you. He started leaving hickies all over you while his hands found their way to your thigh and your waist. Minho started kissing you with all the tongue imaginable and you melted beneath him like sugar in the rain.

You took a breather from the kiss and Lee Know basically sat on top of you slowly licking your neck and chest. The weight of his body on yours made you feel something indescribable. His strong hands moved up, not in an exact place though, just kind of around. Your arms, shoulders, stomach, hair, his hands just wanted every inch of you. As Minho did all of this he would say little words of praise such as "your so cute," "such a good girl," "I love you so much," and it made your heart flutter.

"Minho," you stuttered out as his tongue layered his spit on you.

"Yes?" He said pausing to look up at you.

"Can you be inside me?" You said shyly as you looked away from his loving eyes.

"Oh my God you're so pretty," he said sitting up again "how can I say no," he said as his right hand went down your stomach to your throbbing core. You squeezed your eyes shut as he put pressure on your clothed crotch. You bit your lip in anticipation as he moved your clothing aside. He then slid two cold fingers into your already soaked pussy. You buried your face in his shoulder as his fingers explored your insides. Your hands flew to the back of his head and gripped his hair. Lewd sounds filled the room along with the sound of a bell ringing from your neck.

It wasn't long before Lee Know found your G-spot because he knows your body inside out and he kept playing with it making you whine. He slowly went deeper inside you and you started seeing stars, you didn't even know he could go this deep. You started basically screaming his name over and over. When you weren't screaming his name your mouth hung open with moans escaping it. Lee Know just stared at your fucked up state with a smirk. You then felt yourself about to cum, you shook your head over and over making the bell ring in your ears.

"Is my little kitty gonna cum for me?" He said as he quickly took his fingers in and out of you. As predicted you came all over Lee Know's hands, your tail, and your costume. You blushed as Minho put his fingers in his mouth and smiled. "Good," he said as he continued to suck his fingers like they were coated in the sweetest sugar known to mankind. "I think I want some more," he said as he bent down to your leaking cunt. He lapped at the liquid from your thighs. Minho licked his way over to your core and started slipping his tongue inside you. The sensation of his entire tongue slowly moving in and out of you made your legs shake in satisfaction.

You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood as you felt yourself already coming closer to cumming again. As Lee Know's right hand massaged your thigh and the other played with your sensitive clit, rubbing circles, you came again. Embarrassed at how quickly it happened you rolled over and blushed. Your legs soaked as they stuck together. Lee Know crawled up to you.

"You were being so good, what's with this?" Lee Know said slightly aggressive.

"It's embarrassing," you whined as he rubbed your thigh more.

"No, you're just showing me how much you love me. Prove how much I turn you on, how good I make you feel." He said sternly. You liked this dominant side of Minho and it turned you on more than you'd like to admit. You rolled back over on the bed, as your tail was displayed between your legs. You put your hands to your face in an attempt to hide the embarrassment as Lee Know grabbed your Vibrator. He examined it for a minute before turning it on. This is the first time Minho would be using this on you and you were slightly curious as to what he was going to do. You then felt the vibration on your core. He used it quite harshly, smirking every time it'd make you jump in pleasure. You grabbed onto his shoulders with your claws digging into him.

"Please Minho," you whined out as you threw your head back, your bell ringing. Lee Know hushed you softly. He kept on teasing you, not going any deeper than half a centimeter. You swallowed harshly before you were going to beg again. To your surprise he shoved your vibrator right into you, now knuckles deep causing you to moan out his name and squint your eyes. Minho slowly moved it around inside you. The lewd sounds echoing throughout the entire dormitor. It pleased Lee Know to know everyone can hear how good he makes you feel.

Then he started thrusting it in and out of you. Your jaw hung open as he slammed it into you over and over as it got coated in your arousal. You soon felt your body tensing up and latching onto Minho. He already knew what this meant, this wasn't the first time he made you cum like this.

You basically sprayed all over him, soaking your tail and his hands. He licked up all of your legs, "cleaning" you essentially. "Such a good kitty," Minho cooed in between licks.

"K-kitty?" You blushed.

"You can't tell me you don't like it when I call you that," he smirked.

#skz x reader #skz ff #skz fanfic #skz angst #skz smut #skz lee know #skz minho #stray kids fiction #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz hyunjin #skz #Spotify

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 years

Text

Jealousy Is... Adorable

Pairing : yandere!Bangchan x F!Reader

Word Count : 11.4k

TW : yandere!bangchan ; starts out with that best friends older brother trope ; heavily suggestive content in the beginning ; essentially kidnapping ; reader being locked in but not locked up ; highly manipulative ; underlying tones of extreme possessiveness ; let me know if there's more!!! ;

He loved visiting home, seeing his family, and being back in Australia whenever he could. It had been so long since he had last visited, it felt like he had so much to catch up on and not enough time to do it. There were friends that he wanted to see, he wanted to know how his siblings were doing, he wanted to visit all of his favorite places… There were so many things that he wanted to do, but he never thought that one of those things… would be you.

The knock on the front door came when he was in the middle of doing a stream, Berry jumping out of his arms as she ran to the front door, and he quickly excused himself to go answer it. “Christopher!” You called when you saw him, a wide smile spreading across your face, and it took him a second to recognize you. “Oh, don’t tell me you forgot about me. Meanie. Where’s your sister? She told me to come over.”

You had been his sister's best friend, despite the small age gap between her and you, with you being slightly older, but it seemed like even with the amount of time that he had been in Korea, you and his sister had stayed close. “I didn’t forget about you… You just weren’t cute the last time I came home.” He teased and you stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well don’t stand on the porch and wait, weirdo. You can come inside.”

He took a step back, his eyes never once peeling from you as you walked into the house and made your way to the kitchen where Berry was, leaning over the counter and cooing to her. “Why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You lilted, turning to look over your shoulder, feeling his eyes on your backside. “It’ll come at a cost though, about fifteen dollars for one. If you want me to pose, I’ll have to up the fee.” You continued to tease him, causing his cheeks to burn a bright red at being caught.

“You’re so annoying, can’t believe I thought you were cute for a moment.” He retorted, scratching the back of his head as turned to walk away, but your laughter had him pausing, embarrassment growing inside him. “Plus, fifteen dollars is such a ridiculous charge, no one would pay that much for a photo of you.”

“Yet here you are… still looking.” You sniped back, leaning against the counter and crossing your legs that climbed up to the short shorts that you were wearing. “It’s alright… I don’t mind…” You winked at him, licking your lips before turning back to Berry to give her your full attention while he ran up to his bedroom, focusing his attention on the tent that had been pitched in his sweatpants.

It was wrong to think of you like that, you were his little sister's best friend, but you were egging him on, like you wanted him to do something. Why else would you be posing so seductively, and why the hell would you lick your lips at him? Ugh… he hated being teased, especially when he knew that he could do nothing about it. It felt weird to have images of you filling his mind as he dealt with his own problem, but it had never felt so good either, and it made him feel disgusting.

You had stayed all day, joining them for dinner and even taking part in family game night, but to be fair, you were practically family considering how long you and his sister had been friends. During the game though, you kept peeking over your cards, giving him eyes that he could only interpret as you screaming at him to take you up to his bedroom and have his way with you, those eyes had him shifting in his seat, his knee bouncing rapidly as he tried to focus on the game. “Do you have to go to the restroom or something? We can pause the game for you.” You said, calling him out, and now all eyes were on him. God, you were annoying.

“Uh… yeah… I’ll be right back.” He stammered, throwing his cards down on the table and rushing up the stairs, but not before casting one last look down at you to see the smug little look on your face as you watched him. “Bitch…” He muttered, going straight to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. A little cold water and a couple bad thoughts would be enough to get him through the rest of game night, at least that’s what he hoped.

Once he got back to the living room though, the game was already packed away and everyone was getting ready to head to bed. What the hell had happened while he was gone, it’s not like he was in the bathroom long. “Everyone is getting tired, and your sister said I could spend the night. Isn’t that great?” You said, leaning back on the couch and crossing your legs over each other, your eyes set on him, and he could feel them moving across him just as his were moving over you.

“It’s wonderful.” He said flatly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t get too loud.” He added as he started walking away, but your giggling had him whipping his head back around to glare at you. Your hands ran over your thighs and down to your knees before you pushed yourself up off the couch, walking right over to him, it felt like he was about to combust.

“You’ll just have to make sure I’m quiet then… won’t you?” You whispered, tapping your finger against his chest, but your words had him feeling faint, he could pass out right then and there. Oh, his sister would absolutely destroy him, but now thoughts were filling his mind of how he’d love to have you, how he’d make sure you were quiet as he had his way with you. “I’m joking, Christopher…” You murmured, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk away, but his hands were quickly on your hips, pulling you back against him as he pressed himself against your ass, letting you feel the problems that you were causing him, the problems that you had been giving him since you decided to show up at his front door.

“You come to my room as soon as she’s asleep… If you don’t… I’ll tell everyone here just how much of a slut you are.” He warned, his lips dangerously close to your ear and his voice low. “Now go get to bed… and try to act like you aren’t already soaked just thinking about it.” He kissed the shell of your ear before smacking your ass, sending you up the stairs a frustrated, yet excited mess as you waited for the moment you’d be able to be with him.

After everything had been done, you took the liberty of passing out in his bed, something that had him panicking as he thought about what would happen in the morning if his sister found out, but one look over at you had him going soft. You looked so comfortable, your lips parted and pulled up ever so slightly at the corners as your leg draped over his waist and your arm fell lazily over his chest. He didn’t want you to leave his bedroom, he wanted you to stay there with him until the sun rose and the golden light painted your skin that was barely covered by his blanket.

At some point he dozed off, a light nap turning to full slumber until the sound of birds chirping outside the window had him rolling over, reaching out for you, only to find his bed empty. He could overhear you talking to his sister from downstairs. “No, because he texted me and said that he wants to meet up.” His stomach twisted at the thought of someone else talking to you, kicking the blankets off of himself and jumping out of his bed, pulling back on the sweatpants that he had discarded to the floor last night. “I don’t want to see him, you know what he did. Plus… I think I might… like someone else.” His heart hammered in his chest as he thought of who that someone else might be, fingers crossed that it would be him. “You remember Vince from work right?” And then it sank, it felt like it had stopped beating completely at the sound of another man’s name.

He wouldn’t let it slide, he couldn’t. You had given yourself to him completely last night, his name leaving your lips were the perfect lyrics mixed with the melody of your moans. The way your hands clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, holding onto him as if he were the only person in the world that could keep you from sinking, and he wanted to be your life raft. How could you think of someone else after what had happened last night?

It wasn’t okay, he had made himself vulnerable for you, had given himself up completely for you, which was entirely against the rules of the company, but he had done it because that’s what he thought you wanted, he thought you wanted him… and now that he actually wanted you, you were gonna pull this shit? Absolutely not. He wasn’t going to allow it.

“Good morning.” He tried to make his voice sound cheerful even though you had just unknowingly delivered him the biggest blow to his ego. “You two talk too loud, woke me up.” Yes he was letting on that he had heard you, and your reaction had him stifling a laugh as your eyes dropped to the floor and your tongue poked at the inside of your cheek. “So, what’s going on today? What are we doing?”

His sister looked at him with narrowed eyes over the cup of water she was drinking, clearly confused as to why he cared. “Well, I’m going out and Y/N has to work soon, so she’s going back home.” She said after placing her cup down on the counter, crossing her arms over chest. “You’ll have the house all to yourself today. Lucky you.”

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as he hummed softly, leaning against the counter with his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, fumbling with the little fuzz balls that clung to the fabric. “I get to have Berry all to myself then.” He joked, but with his eyes glued to you, he hoped that you could pick up on what he was hinting at.

“I should really go…” You whispered, hugging his sister quickly before waving a quick goodbye to him. There was a feeling of sadness that filled your stomach when you thought about him and the moment that the two of you shared last night, and as much as you loved it, you knew that there was going to be nothing more of it than that. He was an idol who rarely ever got to visit home, and you didn’t want to waste your life waiting around for his visits, waiting for him. It wouldn’t be fair to yourself or him.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip as watched you go, his legs wanting to go after you, but his sister was still right there and he knew that if he did, she’d just end up getting irritated with him about it… not… that it mattered though. He’d be going back to Korea at the end of the week, and he knew that if he let you walk out that door without another word he’d end up regretting it. “Where are you going?” His sister called out to him as he ran to the front door just as you were shutting it behind you, yanking it open and meeting you on the front sidewalk.

“Do you really have to go to work today?” He asked breathlessly as he grabbed the back of your shirt, successfully causing you to stumble back so he could catch you. “And who is Vince? Why would you hook up with me if you were seeing someone else?” The questions rolled off his tongue at an alarming rate that had you fumbling to think of which question to answer first.

You nodded your head to the first question, sheepishly moving out of the arms that had caged you, turning around to face him as you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “You’re so nosy…” You mumbled, shuffling your feet, hyper aware of the sound that the rubber soles made against the concrete. “I’ve always had a crush on you… and I thought that last night would be the only time I’d be able to be with you… I didn’t even think you’d reciprocate so… Thank you for giving me something to remember you by when you leave again.”

So that’s what it was about… The fear of not seeing him again, giving yourself away to someone that you were sure would be gone for what would feel like forever. How could he get mad at you for that? There was still one more question that you had left unanswered though. “Who’s Vince?” He asked once more and now you were rolling your eyes as you let out a big huff, your annoyance palpable in the space between his body and yours.

“Oh my god, Christopher… I made him up! I knew you were listening, I heard the floor creak, so I said it to see what you would do.” Your tone was laced with the shame and embarrassment that you felt admitting such a thing, and you expected him to be upset with you, or maybe even laugh at you for doing something so dumb, but his cheeks rose with his smile as he stepped closer to you.

His eyes sparkled with a glimmering hope as he stood in front of you. “Have you ever been to Korea?” He inquired, and now your eyebrows arched with confusion at the question, not sure why it really mattered. “Come with me, you can visit me instead… so that you won’t have to make up anymore people to make me jealous… you can just stay with me.”

Your lips were pulled into the tightest line as you looked at him with disbelief, your eyes twitching side to side to see if there were cameras around, to make sure you weren’t getting Punk’d or something. “You’re not funny. You shouldn’t mess with me like that, especially now that you know I like you…” You said shyly, your bottom lip jutting out into a small pout, but his teeth showed and his eyes creased at the edges as his smile only widened.

“You’ve liked me for a while now, Y/N… Let me steal you away for a bit… It’ll be a vacation for you, and it’ll make me happy.” He wasn’t exactly asking though, his tone was much more… authoritative… it wasn’t a request, but an order. “I’ll buy your ticket, we leave at the end of the week.” He finished, and you were absolutely dumbstruck, tripping over words that were barely coming out. “It’s okay, contain your excitement until we land in Korea, you’ll love it. And maybe you can… take today off… Come see me since I’ll be home alone.”

A small vacation, that’s what you had told your family, your best friend, your coworkers and your boss. A small vacation that had started about… four years ago. A return ticket that kept getting pushed back and held off on, forgotten about until it was mentioned once more only for him to tell you that he didn’t want you to go again. A return flight that never happened.

One small vacation full of passion, it felt like the beginning of Grease aside from the fact that it wasn’t summer, it was mid-November and once you had landed in Korea you felt the chill in the air and wanted to go right back home to the warmth that you oh so adored. A small vacation that left you covered in love bites and hickies, hand shaped bruises on your skin where he had held you too tight, bruises that didn’t start to hurt until he had to leave and you started to miss him.

“A week…” He had said the first five days, but then the next two passed, and then the next week until you were celebrating Christmas and the New Year with him all while calls and texts flooded your phone asking where you were at and when you’d be home. “I don’t know…” You’d want to respond, but it would only cause worry. No one at home knew you were with him, and he said it was to protect his career and to protect you from the crazy fans that wouldn’t want the two of you to hang out.

Two years marked the time when you began to realize that… you just weren’t leaving, and a part of you questioned why that upset you. You liked being with him, and time had grown on you, and so had he to the point where you began to love him. Two years also marked the engagement, the beautiful ring slipped onto your finger over dinner one night, no speech involved, and no talking afterwards. One second it wasn’t there, and the next it was, and you didn’t argue it, and you hadn’t taken it off since.

The third year marked the “wedding”, although it wasn’t big and it wasn’t grand, simply going to the courthouse to get the license because he started to worry that you’d be sent back to Australia if he kept you here too long. Now you were Y/N Bang… and no one knew about that either. “There’s no need to tell anyone, we’ll keep it a surprise until we can plan the bigger ceremony.” He had said, and you believed him because why shouldn’t you? He really seemed to love you, and you really loved him. There was no reason not to trust him… sure he… didn’t let you go back home after the “vacation” was over, but you chalked it up to him just loving you so much that he didn’t want to lose you. It made sense to you, and… well, why would he marry you if he didn’t love you? Surely he just wanted to surprise everyone in the best way possible.

So another year passed, and still no grand wedding, but the idea of it had slipped your mind with all the other things going on in both of your lives… and by both of your lives, it meant solely him because he was the only one really living a life while you stayed in the house and watched his life play out through live shows on the television or through youtube. But, the two of you were married now, and his life was your life and you were proud to be a part of it nonetheless. Sure, it got lonely every once in a while, but he always came home to you at the end of the day and poured countless amounts of love into you when he was there, so you never had a reason to complain… until…

“A tour through Australia?!” You couldn’t hide the excitement in your tone when you saw the upcoming tour they were going on, and you wanted nothing more than to start packing your bags already to go with him. Not that you ever went with him and the guys before, but… This time was different, it would be a tour in your home country, how could you not go? You’d be able to visit your family and let them know you’re okay, you’d be able to see your friends, and you’d even be able to see your best friend who probably wouldn’t be very keen of the idea of you having been with her brother secretly for four years and also marrying him… but now you were really sisters, just like she wanted to be.

“Mmhm, isn’t that great, darling?” He hummed, working on his computer as your arms draped over his shoulders. “We’ll probably be there a few extra days as well so I can see everyone.” He added, and your heart swelled at the mention of we. He meant you and him, clearly… maybe… maybe you’d have your grand wedding ceremony there since all the guys would be there, and both of your families would be able to come as well. It would be amazing, the wedding that you always dreamed of. “Make sure you get the mail while I’m away, and I’ll have groceries and everything delivered weekly so you won’t have to go to the market.”

The record scratch, the abrupt change in the plans that you had already started making in your mind, it was like hitting a dead end brick wall at full speed. “B-But you said we… you and me… Why would I not go?” You let your arms slip off his shoulders, slumping at your sides. “Don’t you think I want to go home too? I have people that I want to see as well, Christopher.”

He slowly closed his laptop, swiveling his chair around until he was facing you, his elbows resting against his knees as he propped his chin up on his hands. “Now now, don’t get upset, darling. We’ll plan our own trip there soon, but this is a tour for the guys and myself. I wouldn’t want you to be trapped up in the hotel the whole time.” He cooed, reaching his arms out for you, but you shook your head incredulously as your eyes went wide.

“I wouldn’t be trapped up in the hotel… I’d be visiting my family! They haven’t seen me in four years, they haven’t even heard from me. Don’t you think they’re getting worried?!” You screeched, but he simply shushed you, still wearing a smile as his dark eyes sparkled up at you. “I won’t shush… I want to go to Australia with you. I miss home.”

He knew you did, and sometimes it hurt to see how much you actually missed it, but it hurt way worse to think of what would happen if you got back home and decided that you didn’t want to go back to Korea with him. “Your family does know that you’re here.” He lied, having to make it up on the spot so that you would hopefully back down from the impending argument. “I’ve told my family all about you, how happy I am with you, about our marriage, and I know they’ve told your family as well. You have nothing to worry about.”

You blinked a few times, running your hand through your hair as you fell back onto the couch that was propped against the wall in his makeshift home studio. “That was my news to tell… I wanted to tell them that… I wanted them to hear it from me, not a third party source.” You mumbled, curling your knees up against your chest before resting your forehead against them. “Why can’t I just go? I’ve been locked up in this house for four years… and I haven’t complained about it once… can’t I just… go with you?”

He shook his head, letting out a soft sigh as he got up from his chair to stand in front of you, lifting your head up to look at him, and his heart ached at the sight of your teary eyes and pouted lip. He never wanted to make you upset, and he hated getting into these kinds of tiffs right before he had to leave the country. “Darling… I promise you, we’re going to visit home together one day. You know how… distracting you can get when you’re around, and I know it’s not your fault but… I need to be as focused as I possibly can. How could I focus when all I would be able to think about is getting back to you?” Your eyes closed as you nodded your head, letting out a sigh through your nose when he pulled his hand back. “Now, you know that the cameras are installed all around the house, so I’ll be able to watch you, make sure you’re okay, let you know when deliveries come in.”

Ah yes, the cameras that had been put up for your protection the first time he had gone on tour after you had come to Korea. “I know… We have this talk every single time before a big tour. I know where they’re at.” You muttered, glancing out of the corner of your eye at the one that was hanging on the wall in the room you were in now. “Will you at least tell my family that I’ve said hello, and that I miss them if you do see them?”

He chewed his bottom lip as he thought about it, but ended up nodding his head anyway even though he knew that he wouldn’t. “Of course. Anything for you, my darling. Now, come help me pack my things, it’ll be quite cold there when we land.” There was that we again, and it was painful to hear it knowing that it didn’t mean what you had thought it did at first. You and him weren’t a we, you were just… Y/N and Christopher, Y/N and Chan… But never the two of you together as a whole. The longer you stayed with him and every single time you watched him walk out that front door with bags packed while you stayed behind, it only put things into perspective, making them clearer and clearer until the picture was so vibrant and crisp that it was almost blinding.

There wasn’t much to do around the house while he was gone, you had paced the length of the entire home twenty times over, you had done all the laundry and polished all the furniture. You had rearranged the albums into alphabetical order, and then rearranged them again by color when you got bored. You had prepped all the meals you’d be eating for the week the first day he had left, and you had sat on the back porch to overlook the grass hedge fence that had been built up for privacy reasons. You had counted and named the birds that landed in your yard, and you had made friends with the squirrels that you fed peanuts to when they climbed along the hedged fence. When night time would come, you’d sit outside once more and wonder if he was looking at the same stars at the same time, thinking that, if he was, would it make you feel closer or further apart.

He didn’t call often, but you knew that he was watching you, sometimes catching out of the corner of your eye the cameras moving while you sat on the couch watching a movie. Comfort they were supposed to bring, but it only made you feel uncomfortable, switching off the movie and heading for the bedroom where the blinking red light would flash in the darkness of the corner of your room as you tried to sleep. It was the only time you felt like you were actually alone, even if he was watching you, the darkness of the room was hopefully making it impossible to see you.

Headlines would come up daily about him and the guys, what they were doing, and you’d catch snippets of Christophers streams when you had the chance to. Never once did he mention you in any of them, even when you were in the same home. Protection. The world didn’t need to know about you, it would only put you in danger from the sasaengs who thought that they owned him and the other guys.

“Stray Kids Bangchan seen heading out on the town with mystery woman while on tour in Australia” The headline read, and you paused for a moment, clicking on the link and reading over the page multiple times. This is why he had told you the internet was off limits, why he told you that you weren’t allowed to use his computer, and why you weren’t allowed to use your phone unless you were watching videos of him or calling him, and he had a way of knowing, he knew everything… But you wanted to know what he was doing, and you had never gone so long without talking to him… Now it all seemed to make sense.

Bile rose in your stomach, the acid of your empty stomach burning your insides as it made its way up into your throat, sitting in the back of it and making you gag. Did he do this on every tour? Had he just gotten too careless, too reckless and slipped up… It might be the first time he got caught, but was it the first time he had done it? Maybe that’s why he didn’t want you to go with him, because he didn’t need your company once he landed, he already had someone there waiting for him.

The ring on your finger that had always been a cold sense of security now felt red hot, like it had been held over a burning torch and then slipped immediately onto you. The burn of jealousy, the burn of betrayal and heartache, the red hot flame of anger burning inside of you as you pushed away from the computer desk and slammed the laptop lid shut.

The whirring of the camera's motor caught your attention, he was watching you. You slowly turned towards it, flashing him a big smile before slipping the ring off your finger and throwing it at the lens before flipping him off. Your phone began to ring immediately, only stopping for a mere second before ringing once more, always followed by the quick vibration of a voicemail being left for you.

Could he hear you through the cameras? Did they have microphones? You weren’t sure, but the tangent that you were going on wasn’t exactly meant for him, it was to release the anger that you felt. “I fucking hate you!” You shouted, grabbing the picture of the two of you that had been framed and propped up on his desk, ripping off the back and tearing the picture in half before replacing the edge that was just him back in it. “You can fill the spot with whoever you’re fucking over there.” You muttered, ripping up your own half of the picture and throwing it in the garbage. “You’re lousy, you’re a shit excuse for a husband! I should have never trusted you!”

And the cameras continued to follow you as you walked out of the studio, going to the living room and doing the same with all the pictures that had been framed and hung, propped up, and set around the entire home. All the while, he sat in his hotel room in Australia, smiling wide at the undeniably adorable portrayal of jealousy that you had been showing, happy for the moment that you hadn’t picked up the phone for him to try to ease your mind, this was much more entertaining. The way your face scrunched up with rage, the sound of your shouts were silent, there was no microphone, but the silence was deafening as he could only imagine how loud you were. How cute you were when you were jealous, going on a fit and destroying everything in your wake, he loved to see it. Only love would make someone react like that, a love stronger than anything ever felt before. If you didn’t love him, you wouldn’t be acting in such a way. That’s how he knew that you were his, truly his.

The funniest part was that he didn’t even know what had ticked you off, he had only caught you on his computer, something that was off limits, but a subject for another day. He couldn’t zoom in enough to see what you were looking at, but whatever it was had you upset, and it had him wondering what on earth it could be. He was torn between leaving the entertaining stream of your jealousy induced destruction and going to the internet to find out what you saw, but he didn’t have to do either as a knock came to his hotel door.

“Hyung…” Felix said breathlessly, his eyes wide with both worry and shock as he held his phone in shaking hands. “Did you see it? The headlines? The news is saying that you hooked up with someone and… the fans are getting really upset. There’s pictures and everything.” That would explain it, and now your rage was… terrifying. He hadn’t imagined it would be something like this that would set you off, and to be honest, he didn’t even know what the headline was talking about because he hadn’t been with anyone at all. He might be a liar, and slightly manipulative, but he wasn’t a cheater. “It’s saying that you’ve had a girlfriend here for a while and… Is it true?”

“No.” He responded flatly, his eyes glancing back to his bed where the camera feed was still up, and he hoped that you were still finding more things to destroy, he was immensely scared of you walking out the door, walking out on him. How was he even supposed to comfort you, make you believe that the headlines were false when he was in another country? “I was with a friend, that’s all it was.” He added, although he didn’t have a reason to explain it to Felix or anyone else for that matter.

“Right… well… the press is waiting for a comment from the managers and you… So, get ready fast.” He said, turning on his heel and walking away, no more need for explanation to him, Chan needed to explain it to everyone else, but all he could worry about was you. You were the only one who needed an explanation, and you hadn’t answered his calls the first two times, so he was sure that you weren’t going to answer them now. The rage he felt was different from yours, but it was all the same, and he wanted to find whoever had taken that photo and make them pay for potentially making him lose his precious darling.

Every single picture was torn to bits, tired of replacing the frames with half pictures of just him and opting to tear up every single photo completely before sinking down onto the couch, surrounded by the destruction that you had caused. It didn’t make a difference though, it didn’t make you feel any better at the end, and now you were just encapsulated with shredded remnants of a relationship that you had believed in, that you held fell for completely only to be shown that it was nothing more than an elaborate four year ruse. But for what?

The cameras continued to move as they watched you, but you didn’t even care, you had bigger things in mind, things that he wouldn’t be able to control, not from miles away, across the ocean. You carefully swept up the shredded photo paper, discarding it in the trash bin before going to your room. Your phone continued to ring incessantly, the sound of it annoying at this point, and you finally turned it off so you wouldn’t have to hear it anymore as you started packing your bags, taking the time to neatly fold the articles of clothing, outfits that he had bought for you over the span of four years, outfits that only he was allowed to see you in. He was watching, you knew he was, and you wondered if he was feeling the same thing that you were right now.

Before you left, you made sure to wave to every single camera, leaving the cellphone that he had got you on the desk in his office. You didn’t need it anymore, and you knew that even if you did have it, he’d just continue to blow it up until he got home. It was liberating when you walked out the front door, waving once more to the camera that hung above the frame, dangling the keys on your finger before skipping to the car that was in the driveway. His bank card that he had left for you in the drawer just in case you needed to order something was now slipped into your pocket, and you knew that if you used the money straight from the card he’d know exactly where you were. You were smarter than that.

You went to the nearest ATM machine, drawing out as much money as you thought you needed before going to a motel, not a hotel, a motel. Hotels were too grand and that was surely the first place he’d look for you, but motels were nice, usually far away from the hustle and bustle of city life, meant to be stopped at by travelers who just needed to rest before getting back out on the road. You could have booked a plane ticket, but as much as you wanted to go back home, you didn’t want to go to the same country he was in right now, you’d wait until the date that he was supposed to come home and then fly out as soon as you could.

There was this… policy that you had, or better yet, zero tolerance policy in your relationships, and you had no patience for cheaters, and there were no chances to be had after one fucked up. You had been in a relationship like that before, and you promised yourself that you’d never go through it again. You thought that you’d never have to go through it again, especially not with Chris, but he had proven you wrong, shattered the trust that you had for him all in one go. You wouldn’t stand for it, and you shouldn’t be expected to.

It was the first time he had felt so powerless, the knocks on his hotel room door unable to pull his eyes away from the sight of you packing your things. He couldn’t do anything, your phone had been turned off and all he could do was watch. Even if he had jumped on the next plane to Korea, he wouldn’t have been able to make it in time to stop you. The way you took your time packing each item, almost like you were going so slow just to fuck with him, to hurt him more. Every outfit was one that he had gotten you, including the lace lingerie pieces that were stuffed into the bag… why were you taking those? Who were you going to?

The phone was left on his desk in the studio, you didn’t want to hear from him, but you weren’t done. He had been hoping that it was just some elaborate act to scare the hell out of him, and it was working, it was working flawlessly, but you continued. You grabbed the keys off the hook, the keys that he trusted you to not touch unless absolutely necessary, but now they were dangling on your finger as you waved to every single camera. “No… no no no no no…” He kept repeating the word, it was the only word he could say as he started panicking even more, watching through the cameras as the light from outside illuminated the room. You were leaving.

He quickly switched to the outside camera, watching as you waved to it before going to the car. His fingers tightened around his phone as his teeth gritted together, eyes welling with tears. What the hell was he supposed to do?! “Chan! The press really want to talk to you!” Felix called from outside the door, and how was he supposed to have a meeting with anyone when he had literally just watched you walk out on him and he wasn’t even there.

It was their fault though, all of this was their fault. He didn’t know where the hell you were and his mind was a mess thinking about what you could be doing but the knocking never stopped and it was only agitating him more. “Fuck! I’m coming!” He shouted, running his fingers through his hair, yanking at the strands that stuck between them as he got up, rushing to the door and throwing it open. “I’m not talking long, and I need to get home immediately afterwards.” He stated roughly as he pushed past the younger member who seemed more confused than anything.

“Going home?” His manager asked, not even attempting to mask the annoyance in their voice. “You can’t go home after one concert, you’re supposed to do three. At least stay until the second one. I know that the press is a pain, but you can’t let it affect what you do.” They weren’t only affecting what he does, they were affecting his very private, very personal life back in Korea. He didn’t care much for anything else at the moment because right now you were missing, and you wouldn’t take his calls, and you had packed your things and threw your ring and to the world… you had no one, and maybe that’s how you felt as well.

It’s not like he could actually tell the world about you though! If he did, you’d be in danger, and if he took you to concerts, other idols might look at you, and if he took you to practice with him, the guys might try to talk to you. If he told his family or yours, especially yours, they might try to get you back, and he didn’t want that. He kept you a secret for your safety… but now it seems like it was having a completely different outcome than what he had planned.

Maybe he should have just let you come to Australia, taste a little bit of freedom before coming back to Korea and locking you in again… it’s not like you didn’t deserve it… but what if that caused a chain reaction of you wanting to go out when you got back home too? He couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving him, but that’s exactly what was happening… and maybe it was his fault. He tried his best to be… or seem easy going, to make you think that you were staying in because you wanted to, and that you always had a choice to go out… But whenever you had asked, he’d always find a reason for you not to, and whenever you wanted to go with him somewhere, he always told you it would be best if you didn’t… Maybe it was his fault, and maybe the thought that he had been cheating had been subconsciously floating around in your mind for a while, and this stupid press release had been the validation that you needed to finally think that you were right.

“They’re affecting a lot more than what I do.” Chan said bluntly, slamming his finger against the elevator call button, he wasn’t even sure where he was going, but Felix and his manager followed him inside the lift anyway. “I am going home as soon as I’m done with this meeting. I want you to book me the next flight you can find back to Korea, and I don’t want anyone to say anything about it. I don’t have the time to try to push through fans when I do get home.”

Felix eyed him curiously, but didn’t say another word, his lips practically sealed as he stood in the corner of the elevator. “With all due respect, Chan… Your absence might cause a bigger problem than even the headlines this morning. There couldn’t possibly be anything more important back at home, at least nothing that can’t wait to be dealt with.” He scoffed loudly, his levels of irritation rising as his patience dwindled. “Plus, if you leave now, can you imagine what the headlines would be? There'll be speculation that you have someone else back in Korea as well…”

Chan rolled his eyes, a malicious smile creeping up on his lips as he side eyed the man beside him. “And what if there is? What are they going to do about it? My life needs to start at some point.” He stated and for the first time since he had left his hotel room, the manager was silent, most likely stunned into disbelief at the possibility, but the tiny square room of the elevator was filled with the sound of Felixs awkward intake of breath and then the tension, the unnerving, suffocating tension between Chan and the manager. “Now… I’d like my flight booked immediately, and my bags packed and waiting for me in the van. Thank you.” He said as the bell dinged above his head and the doors slid open. The faster he got this over with, the faster he could find you.

The motel really was in the middle of nowhere, it felt like you had driven hours just to reach it, and the entire time you weren’t even sure how you had stayed on the road and not gotten into an accident. Your eyes were blurry and you could barely breathe, the seatbelt only constricting your chest more as it shuttered to take even a single breath. Your heart was broken, but only that, it felt like it had been stomped and stabbed and then spat on at the final cherry on top.

When you walked up to the front desk, you were sure you looked like the picture perfect image of “just got cheated on, please don’t mind the zombie look”, and the way the lady behind the desk looked at you with eyes full of sympathy only made you more sure of just how hellish you looked. “One room please… I’m not sure how long I’m staying… I just need somewhere…” You whispered, your voice unable to get above that with how dry your throat was feeling.

She didn’t say anything, simply sliding over a little book where you had to fill out your name, and you quickly signed it, using your maiden name because you didn’t belong to Christopher, no matter what the legal documents or your ID said. He had given up on you, it seemed quite easy for him to do it, so why should you not give up on the one thing that really connected the two of you together? “Enjoy your stay…” She murmured as she slipped the key across the desk, giving you an apologetic smile before you turned to leave.

Freedom never tasted so… bad before. For so long you had wanted to leave the house, to do what you wanted, to go out with him like normal wives go out with their husbands, but he had always had an excuse, a reason for you not to do any of that. It always used to piss you off, irritate you, but now that you were actually out on your own… You were scared, you felt so… lonely. In the last four years you had never been out of the confines of the four walls of the house, you hadn’t been away from him for longer than his tours lasted, and now the thought of never being around him again petrified you.

The motel room was nothing like your home, it didn’t bring you the same comfort and security that your house did. The lights on the bedside tables were dim, and the mattresses were squeaky and you could feel the springs through the padding. Of course, you had chosen a cheap motel because when you had left, you didn’t want him to find you, and you were sure that of all the places you could stay at, he’d never assume it would be here.

The air smelled of mothballs and laundry detergent, and the lights above the bathroom mirror flickered as the bulbs buzzed. “I’ll go back home soon…” You murmured to your reflection, looking over your features that looked more shallow now, your face a shell of the happy woman that you used to see back in the mirrors at home. The smile lines were there, but the grin that had created them didn’t seem welcome on the grim face that you were wearing. Would he even care that he had caused you so much pain, or would he just question why you had broken the laptop rule, somehow twisting the blame so it all landed on you. If you hadn’t gone on his computer in the first place, you wouldn’t have seen the article and this wouldn’t have been the end result. Would he even try to deny what the article said, or would he just skip right over it, try to change the subject all while reprimanding you for finding it in the first place. You weren’t sure, and you weren’t sure why it even mattered. It’s not like you’d be seeing him again anyway. You were going home, and you weren’t going to let anyone stop you, especially him.

Sat on the middle table of the nightstand was a telephone, one that you hadn’t seen in years, not just because you had been locked in your own home, but because they were obsolete. You didn’t even know that landlines still existed, but you quickly ran over to it, dropping down onto the edge of the squeaky mattress and picking up the receiver. You hadn’t spoken to your family in so long, and you had never been allowed to, and you were beyond positively sure that he hadn’t told them anything, so you quickly dialed in their phone number that you had remembered by heart, hoping that they never changed it.

One ring, two rings, three rings… Silence… “Mom?” You whispered. A shaky breath, a sob, and then the sound of your mother calling for your father and your little sister. A slew of questions that you were sure had already been answered by Christopher when he told his family to talk to yours… Unless that had been a lie too… Had the whole relationship been nothing but a lie? “I’m alright… Mom… I’m okay. I’m in Korea…” Another array of questions. Why? How? With who? Since when? He hadn’t told them anything, and now it was all on your shoulders.

With tears in your eyes you gave them the whole story, and for some reason you found yourself still trying to protect him, easing gracefully around the parts where he didn’t let you contact them, and the parts where you weren’t allowed to visit them or even go to Australia with him which they knew about. They had kept in close contact with his family the entire time you had been gone, and none of them knew where you had gone either. Even his family didn’t know about you and him being together. “When are you coming home?” Your mom asked, and you swallowed thickly as you answered. Two more days…

Two days and you’d be back in the safety and security of your own home, with your family who you knew now had never given up on finding you, who had spent four years doing all that they could to locate you, only to find out that you had essentially been kidnapped by the son of their closest friends, by the brother of your best friend. It was astounding, and once everything had been cleared and all the tears had been shed and everyone seemed to calm down as much as they could, your mother had said that it would make a very interesting Hallmark movie which had made you laugh for the first time that day. You couldn’t wait to see her, you couldn’t wait to be home.

“What do you mean I have to wait two days for a flight?! That’s preposterous!” Chan shouted to the manager after finishing up the meeting which was even harder for him to do than he imagined. The sight of the reporters behind the cameramen that filmed him had him wanting to jump out of the chair and strangle them for what they had done. It wasn’t him that had broken your heart, it was them and their lies and their greed and their need for a cover story that would get enough views to fill their wallets. Their lives so mundanely boring that they had to destroy another person's life just to fill the void in their own.

The manager rolled his eyes as he stood in the doorway to Chans room, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched him pack up his bags. “Exactly what you think it means. The next flight to Korea out of Australia doesn’t leave for another two days, so I guess you can make the concert. This is a good thing. You can be there for the guys, and you can be there for the fans. Now, calm down, eat something, and get ready for tonight’s show.”

Tonight's show… Tonight's show that he couldn’t even focus on because all he could think about was what you could possibly be doing right now and where you could be. His phone had been empty of notifications, and while that would usually be a good thing on a good day, it was horrible, it meant that you hadn’t even tried to call him, you didn’t even care to contact him, and it only made him feel like he had really lost you in every sense of the word. The cameras back at the house had been free of any view of you for hours now, he had gone all the way back to the last time he had seen you on them and it had been when you had waved goodbye to him, the act feeling far more final now with the silence that followed.

“The company contacted me and said that the meeting you had today won’t be posted until tomorrow afternoon, it seems like a lot more people are trying to buy tickets now hoping to catch a glimpse of the mystery girl that you were seen with. Also, the searches for you are skyrocketing, you’ve become even more popular than you were before.” That was the final straw, the nail in the metaphorical coffin. Was his personal life nothing at all to them? Did they really not care about what hurt him, what affected him, how he’d feel after something like this? That headline had ruined his entire life, his future, his everything, and all they were concerned with was ticket sales and search statistics?

“Get the fuck out of my room. Now.” He said through clenched teeth, his hands gripping firmly onto the edges of his suitcase, so much so that his knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white. His back had been turned the entire time, but the lack of movement and the silence that followed had him whipping his head around to face the manager that was still standing in the corner. “Leave!” He shouted, anger and sadness colliding into one, creating a storm inside of him that wreaked havoc on every part of him. He watched his manager leave, and once he was left alone he broke down, letting out a shaky sigh as tears flowed in an endless stream down his cheeks, curling up into himself on the floor with his back against the bed.

He loved you tremendously, images and thoughts of you filled his mind and his heart so much that there was barely any room for anything else. It was like you had been perfectly crafted by someone or something and then sent to him, for him specifically. He had known it immediately, and you had clearly felt it too, that same connection… a gravitational pull that had brought you together. You kept him centered, grounded, all while making him feel like he was floating at the same time. It was a euphoric feeling that couldn’t be compared to anything else. Being with you was like his own personal heaven, one that he didn’t have to wait to reach, but one that had been brought to him instead. He couldn’t lose that… He couldn’t lose you.

Swiping his phone off the pillow at the top of his bed, he typed out the information for the next flight to Korea, finding one that left tomorrow night, he could be back home by 7AM. It was perfect, it would give him the entire day to find you… So he booked it, quickly sending a text to the groupchat to let the guys know that he won’t be there for the shows tomorrow or the next day, and none of them argued about it, all of them having already heard from Felix about what was going on. He’d be coming home soon, and then he’d find you, and he’d make everything right again.

You’d be in Australia by 8PM or thereabout, catching the early morning flight gave you reason to sleep through the flight, having stayed up all night just to make sure that you’d not only get to the airport on time, but also be able to pass out once you got in the air. Your disposition with airplanes was long forgotten now as it was the only reasonable method of transportation you had that would bring you back home where you wanted to be, and nothing would stop you from getting there. It was the only place you wanted to be at this point, the only place where you would find the comfort that you so desperately needed right now. You needed to hear that it would be okay, that you’d be okay, for someone to tell you that the last four years didn’t define you and it wasn’t the start and end of your life, that you could pick yourself back up and still move on. You needed to hear it because you were so scared that you wouldn’t be able to get on with a happy life, at least not without Chris in it.

The PA announcement was loud and rang in your ears as you walked through the doors of the airport, weaseling your way through the crowds of people as you lugged your bag behind you, cursing it for not having wheels and internally yelling at yourself for packing so many things just to prove a point to him when you had been on camera. Of course the gate to your flight had to be the furthest one away and the line through the TSA looked so hellishly long that you thankfully, no matter how much your eyes were burning, decided to get to the airport so early. Apparently the rest of the people there had the same idea.

There was a long line of people, not even trying to get in through the TSA, they were just there, and they had their cameras out, and behind them stood a mass amount of people that you could only speculate to be fans. How lucky of you to choose to fly on the same day that an idol group was traveling. “Excuse me… Please excuse me… I’m sorry…” You mumbled as you tried to get through them all, but then they started screaming, and the name that they were shouting had you ducking your head as your heart and your stomach sank. He wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow, he was supposed to be in the air the same time you were landing in Australia, the only time your paths were supposed to even potentially cross was when you both were up in the clouds, yet here he was.

You kept your head low, not wanting him to see you as you tried to make it to the TSA, that was the end goal, once you got there you’d be home free… literally, but the universe had different plans for you and you ran head first into his chest, not even realizing that it was his chest until you looked up with a mumbled apology and met his eyes. “What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice cracking, his tone and the way the whites of his eyes seemed to glow red made it painfully obvious that he had been crying.

“I’m going home… Now please, I don’t want to be the subject of another one of your headline stories.” You said, your tone hushed as you tried to move past him. The TSA was right there, and all you had to do was get into the line and make it through. He couldn’t exactly follow you through the line without a ticket. He grabbed your hand to stop you though, his thumb instinctively brushing over the your ring finger just like he always did, but this time it was bare and you watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I have a flight to catch… Please… You’ve made me waste four years, don’t make me waste anymore time.”

“It wasn’t true… You couldn’t possibly believe that it was, do you?” He whispered, gripping tightly onto your hand as you tried to pull away, and you knew that all the attention was on you and him as the cameras flashed in your direction. “I devoted those four years to you… Do you really think that I would do what you think I did? Have I not given you any reasons to trust me?” His voice was gradually growing louder and now you knew that the pictures would turn to video and the argument that you had been trying so hard to avoid in general would now be the subject of international interest online.

“You devoted four years to keeping me locked inside a house 24/7.” You hissed, knowing that there really wasn’t much to lose now anyway. The quicker the argument was over with, the more chance you had to catch your flight. The world was going to see it anyway, so why not let it all out now. It’s not like you were going to be with him at the end of it all, and by the time the world did get around to seeing it, you’d be in the safety of your family’s home. “You’ve given me many reasons not to trust you. I never got to go anywhere, you never took me out, I wasn’t allowed to go on your tours with you… And it makes sense now. You didn’t want me to become the headline news that your other girlfriend did, you didn’t want any of them to see it… So… You’re not doing a very good job.”

His jaw went lax as he stared at you, his eyes so wide that you could see them over his shades and you knew that the excuses would start soon, and while you had time to hear them, you didn’t really want to stick around and listen. “That’s on me… That’s all on me… I kept you locked inside… I did. I don’t expect you to understand why because it’s selfish and… I just wanted to keep you to myself, I…” He sighed loudly, his face contorting into one of disgust and desperation. “I didn’t want to lose you… But I never did any of it because I had other people on the side… I would never hurt you like that. I just wanted to keep you… I love you too much… I didn’t want to have to share you with anyone else… I…”

The reasoning, the excuse that he gave you… It wasn’t any better than the assumption that had sent you to the airport in the first place. “My family… They’ve been looking for me for four years, Chris… four fucking years….” You hissed, and you watched for his reaction, but there didn’t seem to be one, only the sheepish nod of understanding as he listened to you. “You didn’t even tell your own family. You didn’t just lock me away… You hid me… You hid me from a world that was looking for me… And you could have told them, you could have eased their worries… You could have taken me to Australia with you just so they could see I was okay but you’re so… You’re so selfish and sick and possessive that you couldn’t even do that!”

His head nodded faster as he ran his hand through his hair, and you could see the glimmer of the tears that started to spill down past his sunglasses. “I am… I’m all those things, and sorry isn’t good enough… It won’t be enough to make you stay…” His words almost came out as a whimper as ragged breaths had his chest shaking and his nose blushed pink as he began to sniffle. “I know I can change though… I can change for you… We can have the wedding you want… We can go to Australia and do everything that you want to do… I want to change, but I can’t do it without you here with me.”

You shook your head, already feeling yourself getting reeled in by him, by his tears, by the display of sadness that he was putting on. You couldn’t let yourself fall fool to it, but you already were. “I promised my family I’d come home…” You whispered, letting him slowly pull you closer, your feet instinctively moving towards him. “I can’t miss the flight.”

And now you were standing right in front of him, and no matter how hurt you had been, how betrayed you felt, how angry you were… Being this close to him made you feel centered, as if the entire time he had been gone the earth had been tilted off its axis, and now that he was back, everything was set right again. “We’ll go home to them together… We’ll tell them about the marriage, we’ll let them help plan the wedding, and… you can help me… We can help each other…” He brought your intertwined hands up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against it, and it was only then that you realized you had been crying as well. “We need to go home first… I think we need time for ourselves more than anything, to make sure we’re okay…”

And you nodded in agreement, because you couldn’t bear the thought of being away from him for a day longer, the thought of being miles away from him again now that he was finally home. He needed help, and you loved him enough, you loved him so much, that you wanted to be the one who was there to help him, and you truly thought that he could change, that he could get better.

Now that he had you, he wasn’t going to let you get away again. He’d change, surely he’d change… but it wasn’t going to get better, not for you at least. He had almost lost you for good, and he would never allow that to happen. It was a turning point of realization for him, and now that the whole world would soon know about you, it only gave him more reason to hide you away, to keep you from the world and their prying eyes. He’d keep you safe from them, he’d keep you with him always and forever… But this time… This time he’d be better at it, he’d make you feel comfortable, he’d even let you keep in contact with your family… As long as you never left the house, and you never left him. He loved you, and would it be so bad if you fell prisoner to his love? He didn’t think so, and he wouldn’t allow you to think so either.

Your jealousy had been… adorable… but now that he knew what it could lead to, it was petrifying, and the feeling of his own jealousy and fear eating away at him had been nauseating… Jealousy in fact was a useless feeling, it only caused pain and heartache to those that experienced it, and why would anyone ever want to feel that when they could feel only love?

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