#i had to fix her pose
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lemonyinks · 2 months ago
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One down, five to go. Jenni requested by @radioactive-earthshine
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nipuni · 4 days ago
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Ten and Missy! Our Halloween costumes 🥰
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highoncatfood · 10 months ago
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u were made to love me like you doooo do do do-do
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robo-dino-puppy · 1 year ago
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dappled light
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jaelyngames · 2 months ago
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I've been going back and forth between CAS and build-and-buy for the past few weeks (or, at least, when I am in the mood to get in the game) to set up my save file for Nadia's graduation, but honestly, between the extensive save file prep I've been doing and the discouragement I've been getting from stuff happening (or not happening) in my personal life, I might end up dropping some of my plans and just play.
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bumpscosity · 1 year ago
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And the collection grows once more
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nereidprinc3ss · 24 days ago
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i keep you clean; you surrounded me
in which husband!spencer reid spirals after realizing he can't be your daughter's hero forever.
angst, fluff warnings/tags: this fic is about spencer's past addiction, and how he's afraid it will impact his relationship with his daughter, conversation about alcohol, this is a fix-it fic for my life, ends on a hopeful/positive note, lots of self-loathing from Spencer, uses the phrase "shooting up", PLEASE do not read if this is going to upset you!! PLEASE!! fem!reader a/n: this felt healing in a way for me but that might not be your experience reading if you also have issues with a parent with addiction so please tread lightly and make the right choices for you. CHOOSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH OVER MY DUMB FANFIC I CAN'T STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! and ily
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“Daddy?”
Ada’s not asking for you, but you look to her anyway. She’s squeezed between you and Spencer on Rossi’s swing, and her cheeks are still feverish—remnants of a recent and rather hysterical fit of giggles. She has a glass of lemonade between her little hands (you’re trusting her with a big girl cup, if only because it’s not your glass or your house) and she peers into it intently. Her little grass-stained feet kick. Spencer pushes the swing back ever so slightly, for her entertainment. 
“Huh?”
She holds her glass up for him. 
“Our drinks are the same color.”
“They are,” he nods. “Do you like yellow?”
Ada shrugs. It’s exaggerated—one of her favorite moves as of late. “It’s okay.”
Spencer glances at you like he always does when he sees glimpses of you in your child, eyes sparkling as if her opinionated and bluntly honest nature is in any way reminiscent of you. 
“Yeah, I agree. Yellow is just okay.”
She leans against him and he’s quick to accommodate her, affectionately brushing his knuckles over your bare shoulder as he slings his arm across the back of the swing. 
“Daddy?”
“What, lovebug?”
You smile, letting your head fall back and your eyes close. The sun is warm on your face. 
“Mommy’s drink is red.”
Nothing gets past her. Rossi had pushed the drink into your hand almost the second you stepped through the door, insisting it would go well with lunch. It sits otherwise untouched on the glass table. 
Spencer hums. The swing rocks gently. 
“That’s because she’s not having lemonade like us. She’s having a grownup drink.”
“Oh.”
You think that’s the end of it, that she’s satisfied with the answer, until another moment passes, and her voice, sweet as the tinkle of little fairy bells, is posing a very loaded question. 
“Why don’t you ever have grownup drinks? Me and you always have the same.”
Spencer’s already looking at you, brows drawn as you sit up. Your eyes, open now, go wide, and you shake your head slightly to signal you have no idea how he’s supposed to respond either. 
His hand goes to Ada’s hair, gently scratching her scalp as his eyes dart over your face. You can see the gears turning in his head. This is one of very few things he clearly didn’t read about in any of the literature on raising kids when you were pregnant. 
“I… some people don’t like grownup drinks.”
It’s an inadequate answer, especially coming from Spencer—just this morning he explained to Ada why the sky is blue. Rayleigh scattering. Blue light scatters more than any other kind of light. Which then led to an impromptu lesson on oxygen molecules and other basic chemistry in the car on the way here. 
So there are standards. 
“Why not?”
You interrupt, unable to watch Spencer flounder any longer. “Ada, why don’t you go see what Henry and JJ and Uncle Dave are doing? That looks fun, right?”
You gesture down the yard to where JJ and Rossi are teaching Henry to play cornhole. 
She looks at you with big brown eyes—the set of them, the color—those are all Spencer.
“Can you and daddy come?”
You straighten out her dress and take the half-full glass from her little hands, setting it next to your own on the table. 
“In a minute. Go ahead.”
Spencer’s hand slips from her hair as she pushes off the swing and bounds down the yard. You make sure she arrives to her destination without incident, before scooting closer to your husband and taking his vacant hand. 
“Spence?” You ask quietly, leaning in to try and insert yourself into his eye line. He doesn’t look away from Ada. 
“That was bad.”
“It wasn’t. She doesn’t understand. It’s fine.”
“I didn’t—”
He looks down, lips pressed together, and your heart twists and drops like overripe fruit from the vine as you realize his eyes have glossed over. 
“Baby,” you whisper, relinquishing his hand only so you can rub his back. Your other finds his knee, drawing as close as you possibly can. “It’s okay.”
“How am I supposed to explain it to her?”
A tear falls, making a dark splotch on the fabric of his pants. 
“You don’t have to. She’s only five. I guarantee she’s already forgotten all about it.”
“I will. I’ll have to tell her one day. She thinks I’m perfect, how am I supposed to—”
He stops himself, voice tightening to a halt. You watch him hold back a cry like you haven’t seen in years. It’s an old, familiar ache for you. You can’t imagine how it feels for him. 
“Spencer,” you coo. “She adores you. She loves you so much. That’s never going to change.”
His nose twitches. 
“I’m going to disappoint her.”
“How? How are you going to disappoint her?”
“I think it’s pretty disappointing to find out your dad is a junkie.”
His tone isn’t particularly harsh but the words are like a slap anyway. 
“Spencer…” For a moment you don’t know what else to say. It’s not a secret that he’s ashamed of that chapter in his life, but you had no idea he was contending with this much self-loathing over it, even after all this time. It seems like such a distant point in the rearview mirror that the two of you almost never need to talk about it anymore. “You are not a junkie. It’s been, what—a decade?”
“I don’t want to have to tell her what drugs are, let alone that I... she thinks I’m the smartest guy in the world, and one day I’ll have to tell her that drugs are extremely dangerous, and I was shooting up for four months anyway. No matter how I try to explain it to her the ultimate takeaway is going to be that I’m weak and I wasn’t smart enough and she’s never, ever going to forget that. How am I supposed to—I can’t be a role model for her. I fucked up so badly.”
Your chest aches, somewhere deep and hollow, as he leans forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, only for a moment—before Ada shrieks and his head snaps back up. Henry is chasing her with a worm. Spencer watches on, tears still leaking from his eyes and expression otherwise neutral. It’s bittersweet to hear him express such deep insecurity about the thing he’s best at in the world, even as those parental instincts kick in and he’s setting aside his own feelings to keep an eye on her. He’s never trusted himself. He’s never seen himself the way you do. 
“Baby, you are her dad and she loves you. Her love for you is not contingent on your past. You are so, so good to her. That’s all she knows, okay? She doesn’t care what you were doing when you were 25. She cares about whether you’ll be home for dinner, and if you’ll play dolls with her, and if you’ll tuck her in. That’s all she needs to love you.”
JJ wrangles the kids and after a moment Spencer looks down again, brow furrowed deeply as drops like rain dot his lap, but he hardly makes a sound. You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “And until she’s old enough for the whole story, which involves a lot more violence than I am comfortable with her being subjected to right now, you don’t need to explain it to her. You have time.”
“She wants to know now.”
“She also wants icecream for every meal. But I can’t make her understand why that’s a bad idea. What she wants and what she needs and what she is capable of understanding are all different categories. I know you love answering all her questions, and you’re a really good teacher, but you can’t make her understand something as complex as addiction.”
Spencer sniffs. 
“Developmentally she’s only really capable of understanding the world as it exists in relation to herself.”
“Exactly. So give her some time, and give yourself some time.”
“What if she asks again?”
“Then… you say you don’t like how it makes you feel. And tell her to clean up her toys. Condition her to stop asking.”
Spencer stumbles over a teary laugh he hadn’t been expecting. You sit up straight, holding his face between your hands and encouraging him to look at you. His cheeks shine with tears, but you wipe them away tenderly. 
“You’re perfect to her,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to one cheek, “and you’re perfect to me.” He cups your elbow as you kiss the other and looks at you with so much sheer adoration you could get all choked up, too.
“Wow,” he sniffles, and takes a deep breath, pulling you into him, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Of course you do,” you mumble into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as he presses three kisses to the curve of your neck where he’s buried his face. 
“I could be canonized as a saint and not deserve you.”
Sainthood. You ponder that. 
Saints have to live virtuously. They also have to be dead. 
You hold him a little tighter. You like him exactly how he is: technically imperfect. Probably not getting into heaven. Still venerable. Very much heroic. Alive, and with you.
“I’m really glad you’re not a saint.”
He chuckles. His hand slides up your back, and then side to side—a path it’s made time and time again which has only ever led you to wonderful, perfect places.
“Me too.”
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bunnis-monsters · 1 month ago
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🕸️Legend of the Drider🕸️
Bunni’s Monstertober Event(Oct1)
Male!Drider x Fem!Reader
Oct2
warnings: light web bondage, breeding, oviposition, possessive behavior, reader is a bit insecure about her body, body worship and praise
summary: You go on a trip, hoping to build your confidence before you go back to college. When you get trapped on a mountain during a storm, you realize a legend about spider people may be real when you encounter a horny one for yourself.
A/N: I don’t know much about college so don’t kill me if things are inaccurate 💗 also don’t expect all of the halloween posts to be this long, some will be short and some on the longer side >< also guess the inspo for this story in the comments…
my ko-fi if you’re feeling generous~
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If you had known how your trip up a nearby mountain would end with you in the clutches of the spider creature you’d only heard of in legends, you would have stayed home that October day.
But you were bored, wanting to find some fun stuff to film and meet a cute stranger while you were at it. That’s why you packed your bag and left for the nearby tourist attractions.
First you walked through a big pumpkin patch, taking pictures with a 50 pound pumpkin. It wasn’t as impressive as some you had seen online, and you knew that wearing a burnt orange sweater while posing next to it would only bring on ridicule.
You weren’t thin, and if someone from your college saw that picture, you were sure they’d compare you to the pumpkin, saying it was your twin.
Well… you had never even really talked to a single in any of your classes. You weren’t the type that liked to socialize. Too many times had you been burned, finding out they were being your friends for a prank or had been talking about your body behind closed doors.
Part of you knew it wasn’t right to judge others before even meeting them. After all, it happened to you more times than you could count… but you were still too shy and insecure to take that first step into making new friends.
That’s why you took a bit of time off of college to try and build up your confidence. It was important to you, learning how to love yourself so you could truly love others.
Ever since you went through puberty you had been aching for someone to love you, to adore you with their entire being…
How would you even be able to believe them if you didn’t love yourself first?
So you laughed at the picture of you next to a pumpkin and placed it into your scrap book before packing it away in your backpack.
You repeated this at several tourist attractions, even finding the courage to speak to a few attractive men and women. It wasn’t as scary as you thought, they didn’t look at you with disgust or say anything mean. They simply spoke with you before giving a smile and going about their day.
‘Maybe there really isn’t anything to be afraid of after all?’
The last stop on your list was the Arachne Mountains, named after a certain legend surrounding the area.
“Huh… spider people have been sighted several times over the year, and there’s a reward for anyone that can catch them on camera…”
You squinted at the pamphlet in your hands, trying to read the small print at the bottom. “What does that say? It’s so small…”
With a shrug, you stuffed the pamphlet into your bag, pulling out the bug spray instead and spraying every bit of bare skin. Mosquitos just loved you, and you didn’t want to be itching the whole bus ride home.
As you walked up the mountain trail, you took many pictures, but mostly of the gorgeous scenery.
A vast forestry landscape spread out beneath you, and the mountain path winded through the forest. As you continued walking, the path worn down by several years of hikers began to become more overgrown and less accessible.
“Huh… doesn’t seem like anyone’s been this far up in a while…”
When you thought about it, the stand with all the pamphlets was abandoned and dusty, the window broken. You just assumed they didn’t have the budget to fix it… but now you were second guessing yourself.
And that’s when a storm hit. Earlier that day you had heard something about a thunderstorm on the radio, but it was supposed to be that night, not now!
“Shit!”
You ran through the rain, slipping on mud and losing your way. The rain was so thick you could barely see in front of you. Tree branches scraped against your sides and caught on your clothes, ripping your sweater and scraping you up.
By the time you were finally able to take shelter in a nearby cave, you were absolutely drenched and covered in scratches and scrapes.
You slid down to the ground, panting and taking off your sweater, now heavy with water. It plopped against the ground, and you reached into your backpack.
“Fuck…”
Your phone had no signal, and you wouldn’t be able to go down the mountain to call anyone until the storm died down.
You yelped, jumping up from your seat and backing away from the entrance to the cave when lightning struck close by.
This sent you further into the cave, nearly tripping on the uneven, rocky ground.
Most would expect a cave out in the middle of nowhere to be cold and damp, and smell of moss and dust. Surprisingly, the further you traveled inside, the more… “cozy” it seemed.
It smelled almost like cinnamon and felt pleasantly warm. This made your shivering die down, your soaked clothes forgotten at the entrance of the cave.
Little did you know, you were slowly being lured in deeper by the inviting warmth and pleasant smell…
The first sign that something was wrong was a skittering that could be heard further into the cave. The hair on your neck stood up, but you tried your best to reason with yourself.
‘It’s probably just some rat or bug…’
But as your phone battery went out and darkness enveloped you without your only source of light, the noise got louder as whatever was making it approached.
You yelped when something brushed against you, and tried to scream, but your mouth was covered and something sunk into your neck…
Darkness.
——————
When you awoke, you felt something warm yet sticky enveloping you, keeping you from freezing while trapping you in place.
You were barely awake when you heard a purr like sound coming from the dark corner of the cave. A man’s face was barely visible within the shadows.
He was handsome, his eyes a dark red and hair a soft blonde, almost platinum color. It seemed he had been the one to trap you there.
“Hello, my dear. You’re finally awake…”
As soon as you were fully conscious, you began to struggle against your bonds, finally looking down to see what was keeping you from breaking free.
“Are those… webs..?”
You felt almost faint, staring down at the whitish, substance wrapped around you. It looked like thick, velvety ropes, but they were so sticky that you knew that they couldn’t be.
“Indeed.”
The man began to move forward, the same skittering sound appearing once more. You looked on in horror as his lower half was revealed.
Below his torso was not a set of legs like a normal, no, it was the abdomen of a spider.
‘The legend… is true?’
You had been captured by one of the spider people of myth…
“You must be scared… you’re just a human girl after all, and I’ve taken you away.”
He reached out, caressing your soft cheek with his hand. “But do not fear, I’m not planning on eating you, little one.”
His hand traveled down your face to your shoulder, his fingers playing with one of your bra straps.
“Far from it…”
Your cheeks heated up as he easily cut through your bra, his eyes on your now bare breasts.
“I’m in need of a mate to carry my eggs… and you’re the only woman that’s traveled to this mountain in ages…”
He breathed against your neck, licking the bite mark he left there earlier. “God, I could hardly hold myself back the moment I saw you. Such a plump, perfect woman, you’ll carry my eggs well…”
You whines as his lower half creates more webs, keeping you suspended in air, but freeing your soft cunt.
Quickly, he tore off your panties as well, growling lowly at the sight of your pretty, fat pussy. “Oh, my little mate, already this wet? Perhaps this was fate, for me to be sent this angel from above…”
He plunged a finger into you, pressing against your gummy walls and stretching you out as one of his spider legs nudged against your sensitive clit, just enough to stimulate you and get you to cum all over his fingers.
“There we go… such a good girl…” he purred into your ear, beginning to stroke his monstrous cock. He drew out several orgasms from you, prepping your virgin hole for him.
Within seconds, you were lowered down, your hips hovering over his as he nudged the head of his cock against you.
“Gods, you’re so soft…”
He kneaded your fat belly and thighs, purring in delight. “You’ll make such a good mother… you’ve got child bearing hips, like you were just meant to carry my eggs…”
Soft nips and nibbles were left on your neck and breasts.
“Every ten years, us driders go out to find a mate that’s suitable for us. I am the last of our kind, so there are no females left for me…”
He smiled, beginning to push in.
“But you… are not just going to be the woman that carries my eggs. You’ll be my mate, and I’ll cherish you.”
It was uncomfortable and painful, the way his cock stretched you out. You gritted your teeth and he cooed, but wouldn’t allow you to close your legs, two of his spider legs kept your thighs apart so he could sink deeper into your fat cunt.
“Shh, shh… it’ll feel good soon, my love…”
And he was right, his cock stretched you in such a delicious way, hitting all the right spots and making you cry out in pleasure.
He mounted you, fucking into your needy cunt as he groaned into your ear. “Gonna take my eggs, okay? My sweet girl, you’ll be such a good mommy won’t you?”
Suddenly you felt something push into you. Was that…
He was cumming, eggs filling up your pussy and settling into your womb. Soon your belly would swell as the eggs grew and developed, but for now, you were tired…
He kissed along your shoulders and neck, nuzzling into. Slowly, he lowered you down from the webs, curling up with you in a dark corner of the cave.
“You’ll be pampered, well taken care of… never again will you worry about a single thing…”
As you began to drift off to sleep, you realized that this creature truly thought you were beautiful… it made you happy.
So you snuggled into him, too full of cum and eggs to really even try escaping. Why would you?
You were loved… you felt truly beautiful for the first time in your life.
“I’ll prepare a cabin soon, there’s plenty of abandoned ones nearby. Wouldn’t want my mate to be uncomfortable.”
The way he nuzzled into you was filled with such love and care. He must have been lonely, being the last of his species.
So you decided to stay… at least for now…
Want a part 2? Send me a kofi and ask for it~
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NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat
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usedpidemo · 1 month ago
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Girlfriend experience (Twice Tzuyu)
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“I need your help.” 
You’re typing up your next application letter when you’re suddenly interrupted by Tzuyu’s familiar voice. “Sure, what’s up?”
There’s no way you’re turning down a request from Tzuyu. 
She pauses for a moment, contemplating her next words carefully, knowing regardless of the outcome, everything will never be the same. 
Then, she speaks.
“Can you be my boyfriend for a day?”
—————
You don’t take it seriously. For one, you know damn well you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Chou Tzuyu, let alone earn the coveted title of ‘boyfriend.’ It’s already a privilege to share rooms with her in college, how much more to be her personal tutor. Sure, she loves to mess around with you every now and then, but even by her standards, this is one joke too out there to make.
“Okay Tzu, very funny, but come to me when you actually need help with something,” you tell her, chuckling, unable to hide your toothy smile before returning to your computer screen. 
You overlook the intent behind her stare. 
“I’m serious. I really need someone to pose as my boyfriend for a day,” she replies, to the point. Another thing about living with Tzuyu is that she’s always straightforward. There’s no beating around the bush with her; everything she says is the truth. So why aren’t you taking her plea with a little more genuine concern?
“Yeah. Me. Your boyfriend. As if that’s gonna convince anyone,” you reply, typing away at your keyboard, unfazed by her statement. You still don’t buy it.
“Yes. I believe you can be my boyfriend.”
You laugh again. More sarcastic than amused this time. “Real cute, Tzu.” You face your roommate with an unamused grimace. “Now what do you want from me?”
“Do I need to slap you to prove I’m not lying?” Tzuyu returns your mockery with a contemptuous glare of her own.
Still under the impression that she’s toying with you, you playfully challenge her. “Sure. I don’t think you’re being serious—”
A thunderous echo ripples between the space between you and Tzuyu, immediately closing the gap. Everything happens in an instant. You’re sent swerving back, along with your swivel chair. A bright sore blot forms on your cheek, the pain not registering right away. A little more applied force on that hit and she would have dashed your head against the wall. 
“Oh—damn.” You groan, pressing a palm on the reddened area, flush with blood, as if a bump had formed from the sharp impact. “All right, I believe you now.”
She’s shaking her head, her expression intense, humorless. “Now will you hear me out?”
“Yes!” you shout at her, inflection teetering on screaming, nodding your head in agreement.
“Great. Go fix up your face first, then I’ll explain everything,” she says before turning away and walking out the front door, leaving you on your own to fix yourself.
—————
Tzuyu doesn’t even come back to the apartment by the time you clean up yourself. It’s late in the evening when she bursts in, bringing a few pairs of freshly bought expensive outfits. It’s part of the package living with one of the richest women in your college. Her entire wardrobe is fitted with nothing but designer clothing, jewelry costing up to the hundreds of thousands, and tailor made outfits designed to fit only her and her alone. Her casual attire could be your Sunday best. Her pajamas could be your everyday wear. It’s as if her entire personality is to be a model—and if she were, she’d be the face of every brand and on the front cover of every fashion magazine in existence.
“I know this sounds outrageous, but I want you to be my boyfriend even for a day,” she repeats herself, the idea still too incomprehensible for your brain. You could listen to it again and again. For anyone, the thought is nothing but an impossible fantasy, but for Tzuyu to personally pick you, even if it's only make-believe, is something special. 
You have more questions than answers. “Yeah, but why? Why do you want a boyfriend for a day?”
“I’m visiting my parents for the weekend. Well, I’m forced to.” 
In contrast to her extravagant lifestyle, she’s sharing takeout chicken with you. More often than not, you eat the same food, with Tzuyu often deferring to you for choices. Usually fast food, it’s actually her preference.
“Okay, so what does this have to do with having a boyfriend?”
She takes a sip of her sake. “They expect me to have one by the time I graduate.”
“Okay and? What happens if you don’t?”
“Arranged marriage. I promised my parents that I would find a boyfriend by the time I turn 25. It’s how I got to be independent, how I got into college”  —she faces you, her lovely eyes twinkling— “and how I met you.”
Observing Tzuyu, you notice a few details. The most obvious being that she’s pretty, even when chomping on a chicken leg’s bone. The second is her worried gaze. This is something that’s clearly been bothering her for a while. She has deferred to you countless times for multiple academic projects ranging from research to exams, each request building more and more trust, to the point where you’ve become her closest confidant, in addition to being her roommate. Unlike before, this is not a test with a defined system and something easily manipulated and planned for, and you can’t really prepare any better either.
On your end, she pays generously; you’re only applying for an internship because your course demands it. You could start your business with the money earned from helping her. But her payroll will eventually stop.
“Listen. We might never see each other again when we graduate in a few months, and I’m sure you’re tired of me asking for your help when you could be doing more,” she says, tone gloomy, nervous. “But this is more you being the only guy I can trust—this is my freedom on the line. Even if I mostly hated my time here, it’s still better than whatever life they want for me.”
You don’t question her reasoning, even if that last bit sounds hyperbolic. Surely it can’t be that bad. You and Tzuyu have a lot more in common than you realize: you don’t like the college grind, you’re both admittedly reclusive, and you’ll miss each other’s presence when the time comes.
“Couldn't you try getting someone as a stand-in? I’m not even in the top 100 most handsome guys in the student body. It’ll never fly.”
She chuckles, showing flashes of positive energy for the first time in a while. “Nope. They’d fumble the script so bad it wouldn’t be worth the shot. I’d figure since you’re like one of twelve people I constantly talk to, I could trust you to be a convincing enough boyfriend.”
“Does it have to be a boyfriend? Why not a girl?”
“I wish. I’d love to bring Sana along, and she’d be such a joy for them, but boomer parents, am I right?”
You both share a hearty laugh. 
“Anyway,” Tzuyu puts away her plate, having finished her share of dinner to present you three shopping bags full of newly bought clothes. “These are all yours, just wear the one you like the most to our date. Plus I don’t think I ever bought you new clothes?”
“Nope, nope you haven’t.” You shake your head, remembering that your current computer setup, PS5, Lego collection, and closet full of jackets and joggers that’s been collecting dust in the corner of your room were all paid under Tzuyu’s name. 
—————
“You never told me they were still living in Taiwan,” you say to Tzuyu, watching the ground from your airplane seat, which happens to be next to the wing. You’ve never been on a flight before—until now. Something you should have admitted, but your pride got in the way. “I thought you said they owned property here!”
Tzuyu blushes in shame. “Did I?” she questions herself, before suddenly recalling, “Oh yeah! I lived here when I was in fourth grade. It was only one year though. I loved my schooling here; they didn’t.”
None of what she said fully registers in your brain. What does occupy your head is the idea of plummeting 30,000 feet from the air. Even with all the safety measures, your mind races with a hundred scenarios ending in your sudden and tragic demise. 
As the plane begins to move before eventually ascending, you can’t stare away as outside scenery turns into vague blurs sweeping by. In just a few moments, you’re so far high that you can only see clouds. It sends your brain into overdrive. Meanwhile, Tzuyu’s completely relaxed, having placed a sleep mask for the 15 hour flight to come. She doesn’t have to see at your worst, repeatedly cursing over the sound of music playing through her earphones. At least you’re comfortably secluded in first class, where each pair of passengers occupy their own private cabin for sleeping, eating, and even showering. No one can hear you scream.
The staff can’t come fast enough, even if closing the blinds is the simplest thing you can do. 
—————
On arrival, Tzuyu’s surprises keep coming in droves. A personalized driver and car awaits at the airport’s exit, carrying all your luggage by himself. He’s got his own expensive suit, opening the rear passenger doors on your behalf.
“Welcome home, Miss Chou. And this companion of yours is?”
“My boyfriend,” she warmly tells the driver, eliciting a curious look from him towards you. You’re not doing anything wrong—yet—but you can tell by his expression that you’re not giving off a good first impression. “I’m taking him to meet my parents.”
“Of course. Where shall I drive you? Shall I take you directly to them today?”
“No. I’d like to spend the rest of the day at my own place.”
“Certainly. Penthouse it is.”
After a leisurely half-hour drive through the city, the car pulls up in front of a high-rise building. The front entrance alone can be its own five-star luxury hotel and resort. Tzuyu says only millionaires are able to buy and own flats here, which makes her ownership of the penthouse even more absurd. Only now you’re witnessing the fullest extent of her wealth after seeing brief flashes throughout college.
Her lavish penthouse welcomes you from the moment you step off the elevator. Despite being away for years, the place looks as good as new, well-maintained in her absence. Every single room is twice the size of your whole apartment back home, with countless amenities and utilities dedicated to a certain purpose. There’s up to five bedrooms, each decked with their own king-size mattress and as many bathrooms to accommodate up to four guests at a time. The whole setup is topped up by a background of the city skyline seen through floor wide glass windows.
You don’t really have any words to say at this point. You’re just soaking it all in, filled with wonder and awe.
“All this and you still chose to live in a regular ass dorm,” you comment, pressing one of the piano keys, its sound echoing all over the massive place. “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”
“Didn’t really have a choice,” she says, pacing in and out of the rooms, her voice reverberating throughout the living room. “I had to get close to someone, and having my own place was not gonna help whatsoever.”
“Christ—” you mutter to yourself, still taken aback at how fucking expensive Tzuyu lives. Someone of her kind shouldn’t be pretending to act like everyone else—struggling to get by and having to grind their ass off. She doesn’t need anything beyond a high school diploma and some common sense; she should be enjoying herself, living a larger than life lifestyle that others will be jealous of.  
Still, this shouldn’t be stressing her out. Despite her numerous rebuttals, she could have easily placed someone else in your shoes right now, someone more capable to face her seemingly stringent family. 
You can only draw it up to rich people problems, something you’ll likely never experience in your lifetime.
“Would you like to go out for dinner later? Or would you like for us to just have delivery instead?” Tzuyu asks, approaching you with an endearing smile and an enticing offer: on her hand are a dangling pair of keys with a prancing horse etched on them. 
She has you under her spell, if everything else wasn’t convincing enough.
“Name me a nice place to eat and I’ll think about it.”
—————
You end up staying out way later than intended. 
It’s a miracle her car doesn’t have a single dent by the time you return to the condominium. In the time you’ve spent with Tzuyu, you’ve grown more comfortable with the girlfriend role given to you. You don’t even wait for the valet driver to open her side of the door; the act comes naturally. She steps out of the vehicle, one leg peeking through her dress, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She reaches out her hand for you to take, and it feels like a habit you’ve been doing for years.
You’ve gotten your fair share of jealous looks over the past few hours. Even now, bystanders in the front lobby are making a scene out of you being together. All of them are asking the same question: how does someone like you have a woman like Chou Tzuyu by your side.
Deep down, you recognize it’s an act, a part of the show. Tzuyu knows this too. She sells her parts like she’s selling her beauty: naturally well. On the other hand, you are showing tiny cracks on your face, only crumbling after you disappear from everyone’s view behind that elevator.
“So, are you ready for tomorrow?” she asks you, friendly and soft as ever.
You sigh, unable to find it in you to answer. Even as you open your mouth, you lack the conviction to give off a confident response, and it shows in your word choice. “Maybe.”
Tzuyu furrows an eyebrow, frowning. “What’s up?”
You can’t even look at her as you talk, only finding some semblance of relief watching the city from your view. Lovely, just like Tzuyu. “What if this doesn’t work,” you tell her, tone low, evidently anxious. What if—”
“Don’t overthink it,” she turns you toward her, brushing a hand up and down your shoulder. For a moment, you see her eyes gleam with the night life’s reflection. “Even if it all goes horribly wrong, the blame completely falls on me. Remember that.”
“I might never see you again. Hell, you might never go back,” you reply, your doubts not quelled in the slightest. Neither of you care that you’ve got your hands on each other, unwilling to let go.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she says, unfazed by your pessimism. “At least I made up for everything you’ve done for me, including this.”
“Really? As if you haven’t been doing that since I first helped you—”
Tzuyu laughs, her cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I got nothing better to spend it on. Might as well do it on someone who actually deserves it.”
You’re not sure whether to feel elated or flattered by that statement. Your rosy cheeks say the former. Perhaps this is a consequence of spending way too much time with her, or that you’ve been putting plenty of investment in your role. Either way, you’re better off spending the remainder of your night not overthinking about it. It’s been a long day. 
“I’m going to bed. It’s getting late, and you said we’re getting picked up early tomorrow.” 
“Right. I completely forgot, too. I guess we must have been having too much fun together, huh?”
Neither of you even bring up the fact that you were holding each other close the entire time, bordering on romance. It’s probably for the best.
—————
“Hey.”
Tzuyu’s feathery voice brings your attention back to reality. For most of the ride, you’ve been mindlessly staring out the window. From passing cars to idle trees, from long stretches of highway to winding mountain roads. Chatter inside the vehicle passes through your ears like radio static. Thoughts racing in your mind comprise numerous outcomes and what-ifs, none of which you’re able to see the ending. Never mind the fact that she’s looking her most divine, her most prim, perfectly suited for such a special occasion. The less you think about what’s ahead, the better.
She doesn’t make it any easier, especially when she’s leaning forward with her seatbelt, her warm expressions invoking sweet innocence and genuine concern. Her fingers are twiddling with yours, gripped to the leather seats, trying to get as much of your interest. “You all right?”
You swallow down a nonexistent lump in your throat. “I’m fine. What is it?”
“My parents are asking what your favorite food is so they can prepare it for you.” 
“Tell them I like beef,” is your immediate response before looking out the window again. She doesn’t press you any further, thankfully leaving you with your thoughts for the rest of the drive.
The car eventually stops in front of a large gate. Not a sign of security in sight, except for a pair of cameras positioned on both ends. After a brief scan, the entryway opens of its own accord. You’ve left the city so far behind, you might as well be high above the sky. 
A couple more miles of driving till you finally reach your destination: a large mansion with a fountain statue in front of the entrance. A dozen expensive cars are parked right outside, all covered in sheets for safety. None of these details are surprising considering you’ve previously seen Tzuyu’s wealth firsthand. You’re starting to believe the rumors about her being the heiress of some business empire are true.
The driver needlessly announces that you’ve arrived before he steps out to open the passenger doors—Tzuyu first, then yours.
To think you’d end up getting involved in family affairs straight out of a soap opera.
Tzuyu looks you in the eye, reaching out her hand with a reassuring nod. No words, just shared confidence and a slither of hope between you both. Despite the initial hesitation, you hold her and together, you enter the unknown.
Inside, more lavish decor greets you everywhere. Stuff that’s more alienating than welcoming. It’s a daunting presence being here that you end up forgetting to remove your shoes before entering, despite the butler’s admonishment. Tzuyu ends up snapping you back, and you quickly swap your footwear for theirs before advancing. Mercifully, there’s only two pairs of eyes in the room watching, but one is observing you through a harsh gaze.
The servant leads you out to a garden where you finally get a glimpse at Tzuyu’s parents for the first time. Also laid out on the lawn is a large table with different kinds of food being prepared by other butlers. Unsurprisingly, she runs ahead to greet them, leaving you on your own to introduce yourself to them.
“Welcome home, Tzu,” says both Papa Chou and Mama Chou to their daughter while she runs to her father, throwing a huge bear hug. She gives her mother a similarly loving embrace after.
Meanwhile, you’re taking little steps down the stairs to the garden, continually reminding yourself not to fuck up. 
“Oh! Right—” Tzuyu looks in your direction, notices your plodding pace. She’s pointing you out to her parents like you’re the most important person in the room. “That—that’s my boyfriend over there.”
At this point, you can easily fold a dozen different ways. Piss your pants, shit on them, run away like a spotted convict. You know as much about her family as anyone else in your position; the information given to you is incredibly scarce and vague at best. But you’re bound to Tzuyu’s hand like a string to a yarn. Your only saving grace is the hope that this event is a quick dine and drive and not some grandiose festivity.
It doesn’t help that the entire time you’ve spent with Tzuyu, not a single minute was spent on acting like her boyfriend.
All eyes fall upon you. It should have been a familiar feeling, something you can easily adjust to, but it isn’t. This is different. It’s not the same as being around friends and no-name strangers. Family judgment lingers on, especially after you’re through. Every little move counts.
Bowing to her parents, you pull your attempt at a friendly smile, falling somewhere between the line of goofy and awkward. “Great to meet you, Papa and Mama Chou.”
Your ‘girlfriend’ looks at you with a heightened sense of pride, convincing enough to be sincere. She’s hard carrying you in the acting department. Smiling more softly, she adds, “Shall we eat?”
—————
You and Tzuyu are seated opposite her parents on the large table, with a scrumptious feast filling in the space between. Food is eaten in small increments, with most of the lunch spent on lengthy conversation. It’s more of an interrogation and less of a friendly scene. 
“So—how did you meet?” asks Papa Chou, tone as typical of a protective father, cold, calculated, and stern. 
“He was my roommate when I got into university,” Tzuyu replies, constantly shooting quick glances at you, eating your share leisurely. Both of you agreed that unless asked, she’d take on the role of your mouthpiece.  You’re nodding; you’d say the same thing—and it’s one of the few things that’s true. “It was a chance encounter.”
“A roommate? As in—you moved into a dorm?” 
“Not exactly a dorm, but an apartment close to campus. The dorms were too small to fit all my stuff in.”
“You should have just moved into the dorms,” he says, aggressively munching his meal between sentences. “How can you sleep peacefully at night knowing he’s just right next door?”
“All right, let’s not offend our guest here.” Mama Chou interjects, trying to change the course of the conversation. You’d immediately refute him if your mouth isn’t filled with food at the moment. She faces you, asking, “So, how long have you been dating?”
Now you’re swallowing hard, caught off-guard by the surprise question aimed at you. Tzuyu’s hands are tied; she’s watching, but she won’t be saving you.
“About three years,” you say, staring back at your ‘girlfriend,’ looking for a lifeline by simply staring at her. You’re in love; no you’re not. “Some of our schedules overlapped too, so we helped each other out.”
“Yeah,” adds Tzuyu, nodding in agreement. “Without his help, I wouldn’t have passed some of my classes. If nothing else, he’s been nothing but kind and gracious to me.”
“That’s great to hear.” Mama Chou smiles; she’s clearly the friendlier and more approachable of the two parents so far. “I’m glad our daughter has a friend she can trust in college. But do you not have other friends too?”
“I’ve made a few friends besides him too.” Tzuyu interjects, stepping in right as you’re about to continue speaking. She presents a photo of her social circle at a restaurant, consisting entirely of the women she’s close with, including a fellow Taiwanese student. You met most of them because of her. “I hang out with the girls more than him, so don’t worry.”
“They’re all pretty.” Mama Chou looks at the picture with delight. On the other hand, Papa Chou remains stone faced and unimpressed. She’s pointing her finger at the girl to her daughter’s right. “Especially her.”
“Oh, her? That’s Sana from Japan. She’s my best friend actually,” replies Tzuyu, grinning toothily recalling her. “And the two behind her are Japanese too—Momo and Mina.”
“So it’s a multinational university? That’s cute.” 
“We’re still few and far between,” she corrects, putting away her phone. “It’s just that we happened to enter university at the same time, and we’re all foreigners, so we bonded through our shared experience living far from home. We’ll be graduating together in a few months.”
Her mother continues to nod concurrently, turning her attention away from her daughter to you again. “So what happens after you graduate? What are your plans?”
Initially, you hesitate, reaching a crossroads. You can follow the broad outline given by Tzuyu: something about opening a restaurant franchise, following her family’s footsteps in running a business empire, or say it as it is.
“I—don’t really know to be honest,” you tell her, glancing at Tzuyu, and she blinks rapidly, her smile wobbling. To everyone else, she looks calm otherwise. “I’m focusing on my studies right now, and I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”
“What course are you taking?” 
“Mechanical Engineering. I want to work with cars and all that.”
“So you like cars, hm?” Papa Chou interrupts, leaning his head forward with intrigue. “Tell me—you watch F1? You better be!”
“Absolutely!” You’re staring at him, taking control over the conversation, growing comfortable with your newfound position.
“What’s your team? You better not say Red Bull or Ferrari.”
“McLaren.”
“Driver?”
“Lando.”
He laughs—heartily. He’s offering his hand for you to shake, which you do. You’re then tugged forward by the harsh tug of his grip, much to the amusement of everyone else. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine.” 
Before you know it, you’re being pulled aside and dragged away from Tzuyu and her mom, leading you to the other side of the mansion.
—————
“Good God,” you say, your jaw agape, blown away at what Papa Chou is presenting you: an orange McLaren F1 tucked away inside an enormous garage filled with other luxury cars. “This—this is my dream car.”
“Handsome, right?” He’s leaning by the door, grinning like a child. “It’s got a thousand miles on it too. Wifey doesn’t really like it, though. Says it takes up too much space in the garage.”
“Shit—sorry for my language—how’d you end up buying this?” you ask, swinging open the opposite butterfly door, admiring the interior. “There’s just no way this is real—”
“It’s as real as real gets.” He cuts you off, chuckling at your utter disbelief. “I bought it off some English comedian, then I had it restored and repainted. Says he’s crashed it a few times. Maybe he has, as you kids say, skill issue.”
“So—why are you showing me this?” you ask, turning to him as you’re both seated on opposing passenger sides.
“I was going to give this away to the one who was supposed to marry her,” he says, holding his side of the steering wheel. “But she wanted to live away from us. Very far away.”
You raise your eyebrows, curious.
“Tzuyu is a good person. She’s kind, compassionate and looks after those she’s close with. But she’s also blunt and to the point,” he continues, facing you mid-conversation. “If she feels that something is wrong, she won’t hesitate to call it out. She doesn’t care whether you’re friend or family. She trusts her intuition first above everything. So for her to have a boyfriend only means one thing: she really has full confidence in that person.
“I think you’re a good guy, and I thank you for helping her. But I don’t want my daughter to come home with a broken heart. I would tell you to leave her alone, but I don’t think she would want me to say that. So, I only want you to promise me this one thing.”
“And that is?”
“Make her feel she’s not alone.”
You blink. Again. A few times for good measure. There’s a lot to comprehend and digest, even when it’s been simplified to a simple promise. You’re not sure whether you can agree to that. It may be a straightforward command, but it’s one with a lot of weight borne on its shoulders.
“Promise me that you won’t leave her alone when you go back. Believe me when I say I haven’t seen her face shine that bright in years. I want to see my daughter smiling like that again when she comes home in the future. So I know she’s in good hands. Make sure she does not regret her decision.”
You look away, hesitant, uncertain whether this is still all for show or a genuine reminder. Now you realize how deeply connected you are to Tzuyu. You don’t remember life before meeting her, and you can’t imagine a life after her.
“I will.”
It isn’t the answer you want to give. You’re still trying to fully grasp everything. However, it is the answer that he wants to hear.
—————
After lunch, you and Tzuyu are left to your own devices. Your private talk with her father is played off as a fun discussion about his love for cars, completely disregarding the actual content of your conversation. Probably for the best; such an occasion demands a positive vibe overall. You spend the afternoon exploring their gigantic mansion, amazed by the vastness of the place over the grandiose material taking most of the space. If not for the presence of a butler at every corner, you can easily get lost for days.
“How long did you live here till you moved out?” you ask Tzuyu, examining a childhood photo of her with her family, including someone you haven’t met—her brother.
“Lived here during my teens. Was homeschooled throughout my primary years. Moved out when I was sixteen entering senior high.” She notices you taking a hold of her family picture, particularly noting her brother. “He’s also studying abroad, too. Not as far away as me, but still far from home.”
“Does he know?” You turn to Tzuyu, lifting an eyebrow.
“Of course he does,” she says, facing you with that trademark gummy smile. “He thinks you’re cute, if you’re wondering.”
“No, no. I meant—”
“Oh—sorry I misunderstood,” she replies, laughing, blushing with embarrassment. “But he was the one who convinced me to move out. He told me if I don't experience everything for myself, then I’m not living.”
You agree. You’re worlds apart, from completely different backgrounds, different upbringings. And yet, you’ve been brought together by some divine intervention, finding common ground to stand on. 
“So—what did my dad tell you in private?” she asks, her eyes wandering back to the photo, lasering in on her father.
You pause, reluctant to reveal the truth, even if she’ll most likely believe you. “Not much. Just showed me his car collection.”
She grins. Innocent as it may look, she knows that’s not the full truth. “He told you something about me, didn’t he?”
Your heart is racing. For how dependent she is on you, she can be rather intelligent and clever. 
“He definitely told you something. I just know.”
Tzuyu looks around and finds no one in sight. After double checking, she takes you by the wrist, dragging you along. She moves quickly, even through her heels. She takes you up the stairs and into an unexplored room, releasing you forward without care once inside. While you’re staggering and struggling to stay planted on your feet, she shuts the door behind you both and locks it.
There are no cameras in the room to catch you, and the blinds are completely closed off. It’s just you two again. 
“That’s quiet enough.” Tzuyu steadily approaches you with a new demeanor—a straight, serious attitude reminiscent of her father. “I shouldn’t have to ask twice. What did my dad tell you?”
You were going to explain everything without the extra theatrics anyway, but admittedly you’re now feeling more secure to admit in private. Their security cameras can catch strange sights, but not sounds. Hell, maybe the little stunt she pulled could be more suspicious than anything else.
“He told me to look after you. Make you feel not alone,” you say, unable to look her directly in the eye, your gaze wandering left and right. “He also said that you’re in good hands because of me.”
Tzuyu remains silent, only staring right at you as she draws ever closer. She doesn’t know exactly how to react or what to say in light of your confession. You can tell the moment the wind in her sails has been knocked out: when you said love.
“How did he come to that conclusion?” she asks, the gap between you only breaths apart.
“He said that you trust your intuition more than anything,” you reply, tone low but straight, mustering the strength to meet her halfway. “And that you haven’t been smiling like that for so long.”
She furrows her eyebrow, taken aback by the last statement. “Really? He did not—”
“He really did. I’m just telling you everything as I heard it,” you say, grinning through your teeth, laughing. There goes the little tension between you.
“Can he not—” Tzuyu cracks, strutting around you, toward the lone king-sized bed similar to the one in her penthouse. “He literally calls me all the time. Hell, he was calling me the night before our flight. Don’t believe him.”
“I won’t,” you reply, still chuckling. 
Your gaze wanders down her baby blue dress, perfectly fit and tailored for her light frame. The lengthy skirt flows around her legs like water. As is her long hair, a mixture of black and brunette. You don’t have to state the obvious, but you still feel the need to say it: Tzuyu is incredibly pretty. She’s been hearing that from everyone from the moment she was born. No amount of repetition can truly describe how attractive she looks, like this one occasion was designed specifically for her.
“So—he says I trust my intuition more than anything,” she mutters, glancing around the room. The bedroom belongs to none other than Tzuyu herself. It’s the place she grew up in, and she feels nostalgia being inside it after being gone for so long. Her hands brush along the edge of the mattress, deep in thought. “I never really thought of it like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t really know, to be honest. But he’s right about one thing,” she says, turning around to face you. She’s taking a good look at you from the neck down, and for the first time in your life, you’re dressed like someone worthy of a person like her. “I do love you.”
Before you even have a second to react, everything goes off. She catches your lips with hers. It’s instantaneous. 
Her hands take hold of your body, still unsure of what to do. You know exactly what to do, though, and that’s to give in. You don’t give it a second thought. You yield to her touch and melt into her passionate kiss, pressing deeper and exploring her shapely figure in return. You’re pulling on each other’s clothes and skin, unwilling to let go. 
You can taste the pent-up need on each other’s lips. 
Yeah, you love her too, actually. 
You love her dress too—not only because baby blue perfectly suits Tzuyu like butter on bread, but also because it leaves her back exposed to your touch. She hums, whines into your lips, sucking on air between hungry kisses, taken by surprise of this new sensation. In response, she’s tugging on your dress coat, pushing it off your shoulders and down to the floor. 
“How long have you wanted to tell me that?” you mutter, breaking off the kiss, hot air pressed against her mouth. 
“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” she replies, grinning through her sweet lips. 
“I never said I love you though. Like at all.”
“But I can tell by the way you’re kissing me.”
“Doesn’t mean anything. I’ve seen Sana kiss you like this.”
“And? Does that bother you?”
Her grin is turning into a wicked smirk. Slowly but surely.
“Not at all. I’ve been telling you right from the start: it should have been her, not me.”
She shakes her head. “You want me to hurt Dahyun’s feelings by bringing Sana along? You heartless fuck.”
A new can of worms has just been opened up. None of which was ever in the equation till now. You regret stopping such an intimate moment for this conversation.
“It’s either that or you lose me forever,” she says, breaking the brief gap of silence. “And what could hurt you more?”
Nothing. The answer is nothing, but you don’t want to directly admit it. You need Tzuyu. 
So you end up kissing her again, and she graciously returns the love twofold. She needs you just as much. You’re both meant for each other, and this is the sign.
You push her onto the bed, maintaining the connection as you continue to explore each other’s clothed bodies. In any other situation, all your clothes would be scattered everywhere, and even in her childhood home, you’re both more than willing to make the move. It’s dangerous, yes, but that’s what makes it fun and exciting. After all, she said it herself;  if she wasn’t trying, she wasn’t living. 
“Wait.” Tzuyu mumbles against your mouth, gently pushing you off. You’re halfway through pulling the zipper on her back when she suddenly snaps the link in half. You take the hint and clamber off. 
Seeing Tzuyu flat on her back in bed, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, is a sight a thousand pictures worth taking. Your fingers are anxiously waiting, trembling in anticipation on the corner of your pants, ready to flip at the drop of her word. But then—
“Let’s not. I mean, I don’t wanna say it, but this is just a little too fast for my liking,” she says, glancing around her bedroom. It would certainly be a strange feeling to get fucked in her childhood room, among other things. “Plus you know—”
She’s pointing to the locked door behind you. While you both hear nothing at the moment, you never know who’s right around the corner. 
Wistfully, you sigh in despair. She sits up and pats you on the head. 
“Sorry. I want it as much as you do, but not here. I almost let my thoughts get the best of me,” she says regretfully.
“I understand,” you reply, defeated and crestfallen, despite her efforts to comfort you. 
Turning your head back, you find Tzuyu slipping a hand between her dress, fishing for the panties from her legs. She pushes them past her heels and places them beside her on the bed. 
Aware of the consequences of what’s about to happen, she looks at you with an inviting smile.
—————
“Oh—oh fuck—” whines Tzuyu, her thighs spread wide between your hungry, ravenous tongue. She’s lying flat on the floor, giving you full access to her cunt, but with one condition: that her bed is not to be messed with in any capacity. Of course you took her up on that offer without hesitation; it’s the easiest thing in the world to avoid when the space between the door and the mattress is just as long as the steps between the back garden and the mansion. 
And as much as you want to tear through her dress and feel her pale, creamy skin, you still have to meet people looking as fresh as you possibly can. You’re telling yourself this will be a quick affair, an appetizer for what’s to come later in the night.
Except your brain says otherwise.
Your tongue flickers against Tzuyu’s aching core in bursts. Slamming her eyes shut, she whines and whimpers. Her nails dig into the carpet floor, nerves trembling and convulsing with each flat lick and press on her wet cunt. It’s evident in how violent her body reacts that she’s new to this feeling, something she’ll have to get used to. 
Meanwhile, you’re having a feast. You’re lapping away at her dripping pussy, taking every little drop of slick into your mouth, and she’s so generously soaked. Despite her reluctance, you’re pulling her creamy thighs against your face, wanting her to suffocate you—to utterly ruin you. Even at her most vulnerable, she’s still as careful and dainty as ever. A good girl, like her father says. 
You wonder how he’ll look at both of you after this.
“Mm—please, I don’t wanna hurt you—” she mewls, making an effort to resist your push despite the constant surge of pleasure coursing through her body. Her lashes flutter as she struggles to open her eyes.
“I can take it—just give in—” you tell her, your voice muffled into her skin as you hungrily continue to eat her out. “You taste so fucking good.”
Tzuyu eventually folds. Gives in to ecstasy and lets herself go. You’re forcing these deep, whiny bursts from her mouth as you drag your tongue on her clit, satisfying her most sensitive spots. Her cries echo throughout the room, past the large doors. It’s a dangerous place to be caught in, but you’re so close to drawing everything out from her. You don’t regret a single moment. As much as you want to pull out and replace it with your fingers, she tastes too good for your greedy mouth to share. You’re going to drink her for all her worth.
Her voice cracks with every flick you give; her breaths grow frantic. At this point, the pleasure is becoming too much to bear; she can only grip the carpet tile and brace for impact. She’s quivering as your fingers join your tongue in parting her cunt to be taken and used. It sounds sympathetic when she moans a high-pitched cry, declaring, “Gonna cum—fuck!”
It doesn’t deter you in the slightest. Hell, it only encourages you more.
Except you don’t get the pleasure of replying or gloating, because she cums. Hard.
You do, however, earn the gratification of laying your tongue flat on her cunt when her body locks, before violently crashing. Torrential waves of slick gush all over your needy, thirsty tongue. You lap it up—every last drop, even as it spills onto the carpet floor, drenching your face and the area around her crotch. Her moans come out in waning hoarse bursts, trying to keep your little secret as hidden as possible. In reality, it was obvious to anyone with a functioning ear and a respectable distance away. The locked door was a nonfactor.
Despite your reluctance, you slowly pull away from her heavenly core, licking your messy lips clean, saving the remains with your fingers. 
Still, the desire remains. You’re leaving soft kisses down her thighs, watching Tzuyu depleted of strength as the fallout from her orgasm persists. Unable to find the strength to regain her composure, her eyes remain glued shut, her jaw slack, her breaths heavy. Her arms find solace in each other, folded and held close to her stomach, as if in utter pain, when it’s really just your tongue. “Oh God—”
“How does it feel, Tzu?” you say before kissing her smooth skin.
She struggles to breathe, let alone utter a single word. By the way her lips curl into a satisfied smile, you can conclude that she enjoyed every moment. Rolling over to her side, even in this flushed, broken state, her profile looks so beautiful. To think she wakes up like this every single day. 
Suddenly, you hear a loud knock on the door, followed by a prompt call. “Miss Tzuyu—your parents are looking for you.”
The blunt voice instantly springs Tzuyu back to life, immediately ignoring the crash from her climax. “Shit,” she sharply mutters, looking over to the bed where she thinks her panties lie, but are actually in the pocket of your suit jacket. “Do you think they—”
You fire back a mischievous glare, complete with matching playful face. 
This was her idea after all; you were just following along.
—————
Waiting by the same vehicle you arrived in, you’re about to be driven back to her penthouse. The sun setting has begun setting down, and you both have a few days in Taiwan before flying back home. Tzuyu’s with her parents at the front door, giving them one last hug and kiss goodbye.
It’s only a brief exchange. She quickly rejoins you with a quick peck on the cheek. Looking past her are the waves of her family wishing you safe travels.
“What did they say? Where’s the driver?” You ask Tzuyu, curious about the lack of a butler.
Smirking, she jingles a pair of keys in her hand like it's her personalized bell. “We’re not taking this car back.”
“Then what is our car then?”
She presses a button, and your attention is immediately diverted by the roar of a powerful engine. A familiar two-door coupe pulls up directly in front of the entrance.
You face Tzuyu, then to her dad, who simply motions his hand out to the car. She hands over the keys before walking ahead, swinging open one of the butterfly doors. “It’s already rush hour, so unless you wanna be late for our dinner date—”
You immediately rush past her and into the driver’s seat, revving up the engine. “Okay. Get in.”
—————
As the Chou property quickly disappears from the rearview mirror, you glance at Tzuyu, realizing something seems off. 
There’s no emotional goodbye, no formality—just a brief exchange and then you’re sent off, just like that.
“There’s no dinner date right?” you ask her, your attention primarily focused on the winding, curving road ahead. Even with your brief experience behind the wheel of a fast car, this older one in particular requires more skill and direct input. “Surely you didn’t book one on the same day as—”
Tzuyu doesn’t respond, only leaning back on the passenger seat. A cursory glance reveals the curl of her lips as she seemingly falls asleep.
“You’re quite naughty, you know that?” you comment, nudging her elbow, eliciting a laugh out of her. “What happened to the so-called ‘princess’ of the Chou family?”
“You know why I even bothered to come home, right?” she replies, opening her eyes and staring directly into you. “I don’t miss it that much.”
You can only chuckle in response. 
“And yes—we don’t have a dinner date if you’re wondering,” she adds, her cheeky grin shifting into a coy, taunting smirk. “Really smart of you to realize that I wanted to leave before we are forced to stay overnight, or even worse.”
“I’ve spent better days in worse.”
She lowers her eyebrows. “Seriously—” she says, before immediately hesitating, thinking of another way to prove her point, when suddenly, “You should be thankful they didn’t notice the panties in your pocket.”
“And you should be thankful they didn’t notice the screams coming from the bedroom,” you retort.
“I was trying to hold back, dipshit.”
“That was you holding back?” You laugh hard at her half-hearted attempt of an excuse, seeing as you have a front row seat at how she crumbled. “Then what about when I fucking ate you out and you were cumming all over me? What was that?”
“You’re no better; what about those mumbles I hear at night, huh?” she says, tone hostile, altering her voice to mock yours as she continues, “Why do I sometimes hear my name in your room, huh? ‘Fuck—Tzuyu—you’re so tight Tzuyu—I’m gonna cum Tzuyu—’ Huh? What was that? You degenerate.”
“It’s none of your business, Tzuyu.”
“Maybe dad was right—I should have just had my own apartment!”
The car accelerates, its roar the loudest thing for miles. You’re blitzing through the freeway, speed cameras and fines be damned. Had conversation happened minutes earlier, when you were climbing down the mountains, neither of you would be talking right now.
“You don’t believe that.”
“You’re right—I don’t!” Tzuyu shouts before looking away. She doesn’t care anymore.
You stop twisting the knife, refocusing your priority on not intentionally driving the car into a lamppost this late into your journey. 
So when you finally arrive at her apartment complex, neither of you hop out immediately. There’s a valet waiting in the wings to take over, but you’re not letting the world move on until you come to some form of compromise. 
“Fine. I’m sorry Tzu. I just thought you didn’t like your parents that much—”
“I don’t,” she interjects, facing you again, her features cold and stern. Again, much like her father. “I’m just glad we got all that behind us without any issues.”
“And what about the whole ‘you heard me jerking off to you’ thing?”
“Still gross. If you weren’t helping me in my studies, I wouldn’t have asked for your help had I known sooner. Pervert.”
“Ouch.” 
It’s more of a mock than a devastating admission to your character.
“Too late for that, though, sadly,” she says, sighing, both half-joking and half-serious. “Look, let’s just get this over with and pretend after that this never happened.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes! I’m so tired, I just wanna lie down and forget about all this.”
Neither of you realize you can be heard by the waiting valet driver. He doesn’t seem to mind, though.
“Are we really just gonna gloss over this issue—”
“It’s a non-issue. We didn’t get caught, you’re just being a dude. I know. I’ve been with worse guys. Now let’s go.”
—————
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Despite her request, it's not as easy as it sounds. The touching, the kissing, the passion—it’s as real as real gets. 
The same can be said about Tzuyu; behind the callousness and seeming apathy is a pent-up need and genuine desire.
You both emerge from the elevator already on each other’s bodies, wrestling for control, your suit jacket already on the metal floor. Her nails leave sharp, scathing marks on your skin, measuring you up. She’s loosening up the buttons on your shirt as you pin her against a wall, then lead her into one of the five bedrooms. As much as you want to break loose, she has you bound by the neck, making sure your lips never leave hers. 
“So this is why you don’t want to hurt me,” you mutter, breath hot against hers, pressing a finger on your freshly clawed neck. 
“Sorry,” Is all that she can say, and in your eyes, that’s more than enough.
“First kiss, first sex, and first argument all in one day. We’re really moving fast as a couple, huh?”
Tzuyu giggles. “I guess we’re a match made in heaven after all.”
Soon you’re back to making out, fueled by the need for each other’s lips. Despite your bodies crashing onto the bed, you’re still madly kissing each other. Running down the last of your buttons, she pops your shirt open in half, which you slip off. Pulling her back to your level, you kiss down her chin and suck on her neck, releasing a soft, airy whine from her delicate lips. She tilts her head up, opening more of her porcelain skin for the taking. 
Every part of Tzuyu tastes perfect.
Meanwhile, your hands take lease of her back, roaming the exposed parts of her dress. Dabbling with the fabric, you finally pull on the zipper, the garment loosening, freeing, the feeling liberating. For the most part, Tzuyu has always been conservative, even in her most formal outfits. A slit in her dress for a leg at best. Beneath lies some white lace and matching panties, her crop top revealing more tummy than you’ve ever anticipated. 
You’re getting more than what you’ve bargained for, and her figure is so mouthwatering.
With the top half of her dress bundled on her waist, you throw her back down on the mattress, biting on her collarbones. She’s panting, breaths frantic, her hands wrapped around your back, her muscles jolting with every little kiss. Raising a leg close to your hip, she’s softly muttering sweet nothings, whispering, eventually revealing what’s really on her mind. ‘I want you’— she mumbles, her dainty tone making your pulse race, tilting her head to the side to let you conquer more of her lithe body, which you happily do.
It’s been a long day. You could honestly stay in this position forever—your limbs twisting and tangling in a messy harmony, your bodies pressed together, finding solace and comfort in each other’s warmth. 
Tzuyu squirms beneath, lightly pushing you away. Taking the hint, you relent. Lo and behold, half her neck and collarbones are swollen red, your handiwork. While she gathers much needed air for her lungs, you use this brief moment of respite to slip the remainder of her dress down her slender legs before tossing the garment aside to be forgotten. Your trousers end up joining them on the floor shortly after.
Even in this vulnerable state, Tzuyu looks so breathtakingly beautiful. Her perfect side is always on display, no matter what angle.
“Tell me what you want baby,” you whisper on her skin, leaving soft, more delicate kisses on them. Knowing how fragile she is, you’re making sure you don’t flatten her whenever you go down on her.
“I just want you,” she whines, her eyes slammed shut and body writhing, even without any contact. She’s already trembling at the mere thought of you. 
“Be more specific, Tzu,” you command her gently. Sliding down your boxers, your aching cock can finally breathe from its constraints. You press a finger on her panties, and even through them, you can tell she’s soaked. Still, as much as you want to undo them, you want her to do the honors. “Tell me exactly what you want.”
“I want your cock,” she replies, tossing and turning left and right. So wanton, so desperate. She slides down her panties for access, prompting you to hover above her. “Give it to me. I’ve wanted you to fuck me me for so long.”
“How long?” You toy with her, positioning your cock directly between her entrance, the tip lining against her dripping slit. 
“Since earlier,” she whines, feeling the tease, the slow burn, the knife being twisted in her gut. She can’t do anything about it. “Please—just put it in, already.”
The smirk on your lips can’t grow any wider. “I don’t believe you. How long have you really wanted this?”
Tzuyu moans, moans, and moans, much to your delight. Despite her efforts to suppress herself, she inevitably folds. “I don’t care—just fuck me already, will you? I’ve touched myself listening to you. Is that what you wanna hear? I don’t care anymore—just—stick that thing inside me already!”
You didn’t think she would spill the beans this easily. Her wantonness and impatience—it speaks volumes. It’s arousing, makes your ears perk in excitement. A win is a win, after all.
Grabbing her waist, you slide your cock into her entrance—painstakingly slow, slowly setting yourself on fire. Even the slightest flex and push against your shaft could break you in half. Holding your breath, every moment growing more tense as she envelops you in her suffocating warmth. It doesn’t help that her legs clench around your hips, binding you with her for good.
There’s only one way this could end.
“Oh fuck—” you groan, slamming your eyes shut as your cock buries deep in her sopping cunt. An echoed cry rips through the vast room, a fine blend between your voices. She feels so good, so tight, so invitingly hot. Finding some semblance of control proves to be a challenge as her pussy convulses around your cock. The look in her eyes when they flutter open, her jaw slack, her brows shifting, the moan escaping her lips—it’s better than anything your imagination can project.
You draw your hips back, against the constricting hold Tzuyu has on you—both physically and mentally. Her hands are all over you—gripped on your nape, on your skull, roaming your back. She’s holding on you so tight; she needs you more than oxygen right now. 
Slowly but surely, you push back in, pumping her cunt in deliberate, purpose filled strokes. She moans, reduced to merely a string of profanity-laced bursts. Pressing your temple against hers, you admire how undeniably pretty she looks, even when you have her pinned like this. It goes without saying that Tzuyu is an absolute beauty, a goddess made human, and how fortunate you are to sully and defile her. 
It’s the perfect sight for sore eyes, an idyllic escape from the fiery sensation in your stomach.
“So—so gorgeous, Tzu—” you mutter, leaving a chaste peck on the tip of her nose, your moans going back and forth, perfectly paced with your hips rocking against hers. You’ve never felt this uniform, this perfect together. “So fucking wet—and tight—”
She’s far too engrossed in pleasure to move, let alone say a word. You can feel the kick from her thighs, their coil around your waist, demanding more. Faster. Harder. Without the need to vocalize them. As comfortable as you are, your primal instincts are encouraging you, pushing you to take her the way she should be used. 
“I’m gonna fuck you hard now,” you tell her as courtesy, moving through with the deed regardless of her response. She nods. Whether it’s from the persistent quake of the bed or a voluntary act, it doesn’t matter. You’re only focused on drawing out the most ecstasy in fucking her.
The fuse has already been lit the moment you first entered her; you’re just accelerating the countdown.
“Yes—fucking—oh my fucking—” you groan, the piston of your hips moving quicker and quicker with each thrust. The way her pussy quivers and flexes around your cock is so devastating, it’s burning through your skin. Your mind is in utter disarray, unable to fully comprehend the tightness consuming you. It’s going to pull you further and further down without a way to escape. You can only drag Tzuyu down too.
You’re crushing her, smothering her in your desperate attempt to stay in control. She’s doing everything in her power to shatter you, and it’s messing you up. She continues to moan in broken, jumbled tones, pulling you close to her with each pump, meeting halfway in a rhythm that hits the spot. 
“Just like that—just like that—mm—” Tzuyu keens. How she can make even the littlest words sound so saccharine and sincere is beyond you. The way she takes your relentless pounding is a feat worth admiring. It’s the least of your concerns right now, especially when she continues to lead you further to your collapse. “Almost there—just keep fucking me.”
As if you had any other thought or option. That, or pulling down the strap of her skimpy crop top, exposing a breast, watching it ripple. 
Her hair tangled around your waist, you keep fucking away. Stopping is the last thing you’d ever want to do, especially since you’re close too. The friction between your skin and hers is growing too unbearable, and yet the satisfying ripple of flesh slapping flesh supersedes that. There’s nothing sinful in what you’re doing, only something right.
“Please baby—never stop—stretching me out like this—” she mewls, her nails digging deep into your back, tilting your face and leading you into a passionate kiss. “Cumming for you—oh shit—”
Tzuyu clenches, kissing into you harder as her body comes undone from head to toe. Every nerve, every muscle going limp as she cums. She moans directly into your skin, freezing, her legs and arms coiled around your body as a wave of her slick spills all around your hard cock, landing on the sheets.  
It’s the perfect time to get dragged by her wave of pleasure. You weren’t going to last any longer at this rate. “Tzu—” is the only thing that you manage to utter, before it completely falls apart. 
Against the last of your resolve, your grip gradually loosens. Straining your hips, you thrust forward a handful of times, each one more and more agonizing till you finally reach the boiling point. Your cock throbs violently as you pump deep in her pussy, even as her legs collapse on the bed, because anything else would be a disservice to her unspoken demand. You’re groaning raspily against her ear, holding onto her even though she can’t move. 
You fill her. Releasing every pent-up need and tension, your bodies go numb together. Her cunt squeezes every last drop of cum out of you. Tzuyu won’t settle for less. You’re repeating her name as your orgasm persists, the agony of blasting streak after streak seemingly unending. Your hips continue to fuck the cum deep into her pussy, gradually slowling by the second until you come to a full stop.
In the end, the only thing that remains are your labored breaths. 
You clamp down on her collarbone before your consciousness eventually drifts away. This is the position you end up in for the rest of the night: you slumped over Tzuyu, arms wrapped over each other, drenched in sweat and sex. 
At least she has the warmest blanket to cover her from the cold.
—————
As morning comes, you’ve spent more time inside Tzuyu than anywhere else—as it should be. 
“You sure you don’t wanna go anywhere?” she asks, showing you her phone with a picture of a hot spring, one of many in the country. “We could use it before going back.”
“I’m good,” you say, looking up at Tzuyu, her lithe figure leisurely bouncing on your lap, eliciting these soft, airy moans out of you between thrusts. You’ve been mindlessly admiring her perfect body, your hands roaming at her waist, to her chest, then her ass, finally back to her waist again. “Maybe if you want, just go yourself. I just wanna sleep.”
“Don’t be such a killjoy” she replies, tilting her head down to meet you eye-to-eye. “After what we’ve done, you just wanna sit back? You’re really a pervert, you know that?”
“Still calling me that? After I fucked your brains out?”
“Just because you fucked me so well doesn’t change anything before that, pervert.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you!”
Tzuyu places the phone on the end table before brushing your hair. She has this contemptuous look, her frustration bubbling to the surface. If she were any less patient, she could probably end you in an instant—
Except you both laugh, breaking the so-called tense silence.
“Yeah, I guess I’m also tired too,” she remarks, finding purchase of your face, then your chest. She stops grinding on you to lay on your head instead. “We could spend the whole day here, just ordering delivery. I wouldn’t mind.”
As entertaining of an idea as it sounds, the initial proposition gradually sinks in. You imagine the scene: a hot spring. Being one with nature. Some much needed relief for your muscles. More importantly, another excuse to see Tzuyu naked, even though she’s in nothing but a short robe right now. 
Better yet, there’s a shower you can take her in, but she’s worn you out to the point of hardly moving.
“Tzu?” you mumble, caressing her covered back, cuddling her.
“Yeah?”
“I changed my mind. Let’s go to the hot springs.”
Even without looking, you can feel her annoyance. You can already envision the scorn on her features. She realizes she has made a huge mistake. 
This is only the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
“You’re the worst boyfriend.”
“Worst? I thought we were just pretending.”
“I hate you.”
“I love you too.” 
—————
(A/N: Was thoroughly surprised Tzuyu was the third Twice member to get her solo! Came out of nowhere, fun little title track. Giving me early Sunmi/2nd gen vibes. Didn't really think much of her but the styling for the promos really caught me by the throat. Also shoutout to ddeun for writing and posting an earlier fic with a similar premise and concept as this one (OC x idol meeting the parents), especially as it features best girl Yena. Thank you for reading!)
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strangeasexuallegume · 3 months ago
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I redesigned the EG Mane Six! I tried to go based of the general design ideas of the originals, though I did deviate where I felt it better suited the characters.
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Twilight: For Twilight I mostly went for something that could look decent enough to make up for the fact that she has definitely been wearing it three days in a row. That bitch is NOT taking proper hygiene and you know it. I also wanted to play around with the idea of her struggling to walk no matter what, making her own mobility aids (that are albeit low quality and seriously uncomfortable since she was working with what she had) the first night that she was there, and then at some point Rarity reveals that she purchased and bedazzled a much better and comfier set of aides for Twilight. Other than that, not much else to say.
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Fluttershy: Tbh, I don’t have much to say about her other than True Stoner Rights and also I wanted to give her a look that would look nice enough to wear to school without risking being picked on, and also isn’t too outside her comfort zone. The look is based on what I thought as a kid was “Parisian fashion.” I imagine that that Fall Formal dress is actually outside her comfort zone, but she didn’t wanna make Rarity come up with a different outfit and honestly the whole thing was outside her comfort zone so it’s whatever.
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Rainbow Dash: I HAD TO FIX IT. RDS IS THE ONLY ONE IM CONSIDERING FIXED BECAUSE THIS IS NOT. MY. GIRL!!!! First off, why did they make her a SOCCER PLAYER??? TRACK IS LITERALLY HER THING SHE WAS BUILT FOR SPEED— I made her a track athlete instead. Second off OH MY GOD THESE OUTFITS ARE SOOOO NOT HER STYLE UGH, I KNOW THAT THESE DESIGNS ARE MOSTLY TO GO WITH THE SAME TREND AS MONSTER HIGH BUT TRJEJSHDJDGSISDRAGH THIS IS NOT RAINBOW DASH!! SAME THING WITH HER FALL FORMAL OUTFIT WHAT IS THIS, THIS ISNT WHAT SHED WEAR TO A PARTY!! UGH!! STUPID!!!!!
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AJ: A lot of her outfit was me working on pure nostalgia from when I was a kid in the early 2010’s. (Oh yeah I forgor to mention, I tried to change these designs to fit what I thought would work for 2013. Aside from Twilight, she looks more current to look more out of place) I remembered stuff like the ankle/shin high boots with all the different buckles that I remember adoring, the jeans or shorts that’d have all sorts of pretty embroidery on them, etc. etc. I also wanted to try and make her fall formal dress look more casual, which I figured would work since I’m assuming Fall Formal is sort of like the homecoming of this universe. Overall, hers was one of the most fun to design.
Side note, RD and AJ are making fun of each other’s trademark poses in all of the default pngs
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Rarity: She was kinda easy, I don’t have a lot to say about her if I’m being honest. I think she was the one that the designers ate with the most. Even her fall formal dress, there’s not much I wanted to change and was actually kinda stumped for a bit on what to do differently.
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Pinkie Pie: she is my Maximalist Kandi Scene Furry Queen. When dying her hair she either did it herself or told the person at whatever salon she went to that she wants to “look like an acid trip.” The non binary flag was made one year after EG first appeared but the genderqueer flag was made in 2011 so Pinkie Pie got True Genderqueer Rights. I couldn’t control myself and gave her straps. She stands out like a bleeding thumb. I love her. By far the most fun design. This was so incredibly self indulgent and I couldn’t be happier.
Edit: forgot to add, I used this pose reference by @albanenechi !
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nottsangel · 7 months ago
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the red means i love you — r.c.
pairing: dark!rafe cameron x dark!reader
warnings: 18+ smut, murder, vaginal sex, extreme violence, stabbing, blood, knifeplay (carving), bloodplay, possessive and obsessive behaviour (reader and rafe), fingering, hair pulling, slight spanking, toxic relationship, reader and rafe are both fucked in the head
word count: 5k
summary: in a relationship fueled by hidden obsession and jealousy, you and your boyfriend are more alike than you initially thought.
moodboard // m.list // blurbs m.list // taglist
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You hummed along to the song blasting from your speakers, stretched out on your stomach while absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok, your long nails tapping against the screen. With your boyfriend away on their annual family vacation, you were left restless and bored. Since you started dating him a year ago, you've spent practically every moment together, causing your hobbies and personal interests to gradually fade, along with your sense of individuality. He was the centre of your world, everything in your life revolved around him— you were willing to go to any lengths for him, and you knew he would do the same for you. What you both didn’t know, was how far you would be willing to go for each other.
Yawning while watching the nth slime scoopability video on your TikTok for you page, a notification popped up on your phone— rafe_cameron posted a new picture! You instantly tapped on it, having notifications turned on for a reason only to find a photo of your boyfriend on a yacht, clad in nothing but his blue swimsuit. Fuck. His defined abs, the tight shorts showing his bulge through the fabric, his hair messy and slightly wet— you instantly felt an ache between your legs, prompting you to rub your thighs together.
Though it had only been a few days since you had last seen him, his absence weighed heavy and the picture didn’t help. You found yourself analysing every single detail of the picture, but your focus kept going back to his bulge as you could practically feel his cock filling you up so perfectly like he does every night again, except for tonight. You were desperately craving his touch, and just as you were about to reach your hand into your shorts to relieve the achy feeling, your mood was ruined when you checked the comment section.
oliviaprentiss4: looking good Cameron! 😍
Bang. You threw your phone aggressively at the wall while letting out a piercing scream as your breaths grew shallow and fast, anger coursing through your veins. Fucking bitch. Of course it’s Olivia, who goes after your man every chance she gets. Despite Rafe's constant assurances that she's just a friend and nothing more, as a girl yourself, you can't help but notice the subtle flirtations — the way she twirls her blonde locks while gazing up at him with fuck-me eyes whenever they talk. You're not stupid.
You fixed your gaze intently on the wall, attempting to collect your thoughts and calm your breathing as a plan dawned upon you. Swiftly grabbing the lip gloss from the bedside table next to you, you hastily reapplied it before gathering your phone from the ground and switching to the camera app. You raised your phone in the air, pushing your tits up and pulling your top down just a tad bit, leaving nearly nothing to the imagination as you snapped a few pictures while switching poses.
Brandon is gonna fucking love these, you thought to yourself while scrolling through your camera roll, referring to a fratboy you met at a party before you started dating Rafe. You hooked up with him once, seeing him as nothing more than just a one-night stand, but he became obsessed with you after that— replying to your Instagram stories daily and asking you to hang out at least once a week. You knew he would comment if you posted a few sexy pics, and you were right.
brandontheman: cute top, but im more interested in whats under it ;)
You bit your lip as an amused but sinister smile spread across your face, knowing it would infuriate Rafe. Clicking back on his profile to check the new picture once more, you noticed new comments had been added. Your smile abruptly vanished as you glanced at Rafe's comments section again, feeling the anger that had started to subside returning with force.
rafe_cameron: @ oliviaprentiss4 Thanks liv.
Liv. He fucking calls her Liv. Fucking asshole. You muttered curses under your breath, fists clenching as your breathing quickened and your jaw tightened again. He could've simply ignored her. Or deleted her comment. Or blocked her when you started complaining about the bitch four months ago. But no— the fucking idiot calls her Liv, for everyone to see, including you.
With hands trembling from sheer rage, you redirected your attention to your phone before switching profiles. rafe_cameron. Now, you wouldn't exactly label yourself as toxic for having his profile logged in on your phone. You're just, you know, keeping an eye on him, with the best intentions after all. Even though he was unaware that you peeked into his phone to get his password when he was showering. Hmm. Okay, maybe you were a little toxic, you can admit that much. But being toxic means being smart so you went to settings and disabled notifications, ensuring Rafe wouldn’t suspect a thing before tapping on his chat with Olivia.
As you scrolled through the chat, nothing new caught your eye, which didn't come as a surprise given that you checked his profile on a daily basis. It was the usual— Olivia showering him with compliments whenever he posted a picture of himself, and him graciously thanking her. You shook your head in disbelief, your jaw tensing with anger at his consistent responses to her. She was a big problem— a serious threat to your relationship, and you desperately needed to get rid of her. You took a deep breath, hoping your plan would succeed, before typing out a message.
rafe_cameron: hey liv.
oliviaprentiss4: hey rafey!
Rafey. Oh, this bitch really wants to die.
rafe_cameron: my girlfriend is out of town tonight. wanna come over?
oliviaprentiss4: sounds good! I’ll be there at 9!! 🤍
Not a girl’s girl, huh? You scoffed at how easily she agreed to a man cheating on his girlfriend, yet a small smile tugged at your lips as it seemed that your plan was starting to take work. Now you just had to figure out how to get inside Tannyhill, but let’s be real— breaking in is the easiest part of it all.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting eerie shadows across the Cameron’s estate except for a few lights that you hastily switched on when you arrived five minutes before nine. It was quiet; the only sounds in the eerie mansion were the ticking of a clock and a few birds chirping outside.
You were impatiently sitting on the couch, waiting for Olivia, with your knee bouncing up and down— not from nerves though, but rather, excitement. A wicked grin spread across your face as you heard the doorknob turn, followed by cautious footsteps on the wooden floor. Olivia gasped audibly when she spotted you, her face flushing bright red as she stumbled over her words, too stunned to articulate a coherent sentence.
“I- Sorry, Rafe said- I mean. I thought you wouldn’t-“ “You thought what, exactly? That you could fuck my boyfriend without me knowing? God, you really are such a stupid, fucking bitch.”
Your words hit her hard, causing her to freeze in place as she fiddled with her fingers nervously. She realized she fucked up bad when she caught the insane, psychotic glare in your narrowed eyes, which was filled with unmistakable hatred directed at her. It sent shivers down her spine— she came to the stark realization that you were more than simply a jealous girlfriend; she was fearing for her life.
You rose from the couch and marched towards her, causing her to take steps back in panic, her eyes widening in terror. But you were quicker, consumed by rage. She cried out in agony as you seized a handful of her blonde hair, and violently hauled her towards the ground until she smashed into the floor with a loud thud.
“Tsk, so many men, and still, you had to choose mine. Dumbest decision you could make, Liv. And you’re gonna fucking regret it.” You hissed as you straddled her. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling disoriented from her head hitting the floor as she confusedly gazed up at you. It was over for her. You knew it, she knew it. The poor girl gulped when you took a knife out of your back pocket— the pocket knife that Rafe bought you to defend yourself from men. Oh, if only he knew. Thank you baby, best present ever.
“Here’s what I’m gonna do. I will use this cute little knife to stab you, okay? Not just once though, no, there’s no fun in that.” Now, this was the moment where she broke down in tears, pleading for you to let her go. You revelled in the sense of power, devoid of any trace of empathy, as you observed the girl's panicked state with streaks of mascara running down her face. What the fuck did she expect? It’s the consequences of her own actions.
You gripped her face tightly, sharp nails pressing into her skin as you forced her to meet your gaze, her eyes wide with fear and brimming with tears as they met yours. She was frozen in place, paralyzed by an overwhelming sense of dread. “Hey, hey, just shut up for a moment and let me do my thing, okay? This is my moment and I can’t have you fucking it up. I’ve been looking forward to this.”
You paused and slowly closed your eyes, savouring the momentary bliss until Olivia interrupted you, prompting an irritated exhale and forcing your eyes to reopen. “Let me go, please! I wasn’t even gonna do anything with him! I promise!” she attempted and pleaded for one last time, despite knowing deep down that it wouldn't change anything. Your hatred was too strong, as evidenced by your eyes— the psychotic look on your face caused goosebumps to form all over her body.
“You think…” you started, breath quickening in growing anger as your jaw tensed, shaking your head and snickering in disbelief, “…you can fucking LIE TO ME?” you screamed before raising the knife in the air, not wasting any more time as she only fuelled your rage further, followed by bringing it back down, right into her chest next to her silver necklace with the letter ‘O’ attached to it. She let out a piercing scream out of agony before you quickly pulled the knife out, blood spurting in every direction possible just like in slasher movies, making you forget for a moment that this was real life. You were so caught up in the moment— it felt therapeutic in a way to finally release all of your pent-up rage.
“Don’t” stab. “touch” stab. “my” stab. “man, Liv.” stab, stab, stab.
Your heart raced as you witnessed the life drain from her ocean-blue eyes, a rush of power and exhilaration consuming you as you smiled down at her with a manic glint in your eyes. You experienced a strange sense of peace along with a wave of relief washing over you. Problem solved.
Standing up again, you had to steady yourself as you felt slightly lightheaded with adrenaline rushing through your body. You wiped the remaining blood from your face with your shirt before hearing a faint scream coming from upstairs, making you gasp as your heart beat out of your chest. What the fuck? You were convinced that no one was home, the entire Cameron family on their yearly vacation far, far away.
The screams came to an abrupt halt followed by a loud thud before hearing a person grunt, as if they were struggling while carrying something heavy. Fuck fuck fuck. This was when you started to panic. Whoever it was coming down the stairs right now was about to witness you fully covered in blood with a fucking dead body lying next to you on the floor. It was over.
“Shit man… why’s it never the skinny, short guys she fuckin’ falls for?” you heard a familiar voice complain, making you blink your eyes a few times as you saw your boyfriend descend the stairs while dragging a lifeless body behind him. “…Rafe?” you uttered, making him snap his head to the side, startled by your sweet-laced voice calling out his name.
First, his gaze fell on you, locking his blue eyes with yours, both widening in shock while staring at each other. Oh, he really fucked up, he thought, until he noticed the corpse next to you with the knife in your right hand, fresh blood dripping from it onto the floor. He then turned to face the body he was dragging down the stairs, blinking several times as he attempted to process the bizarre situation.
“Oh shit. We’re like that one Spiderman meme, babe.” you chuckled, cocking your head to the side as you watched the body comically fall down each step with a thud, leaving a trail of fresh blood behind. Rafe looked at you in astonishment, before his face quickly turned into one of absolute fury with nostrils flaring and his eyes narrowing. You knew that look on your boyfriend’s face— he was about to freak the fuck out. “ooohh my god, oh my god… what— what the FUCK are you doing?!”
Your face instantly dropped as you scoffed at the hypocrisy, “What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing?” you hurriedly marched towards him, casually stepping over the girl’s lifeless body with the bloody knife still in your right hand. With your faces merely inches away, you stared into his enraged, narrowed blue eyes before turning your attention to the body resting against the stairs. Brandon. The poor boy has been beaten to death with what you assume Rafe’s baseball bat, which has been sitting in the corner of his room untouched for quite some time, always leaving you wondering why he still had that thing. Well, that question was answered now. Brandon’s face was nearly unrecognisable, it was not a nice sight. He was covered in blood from head to toe, and it was clear Rafe used Brandon’s body to get all his aggression out.  
Your attention was then drawn to the once-white carpet he was standing on, which was now ruined and completely covered in blood. “Oh, and real smart, Rafe. Letting a body bleed all over your fucking carpet. What are you gonna tell your family, huh?” You snorted, taking in the mess that Rafe had made all over the house.
“That’s… that’s what you’re fuckin’ worried about here!? Just… I—  I don’t know, say you were on your period or some shit, jesus.” he rolled his eyes and shook his head, obviously not thinking about the fucking carpet right now as his mind raced with a thousand thoughts while squinting his eyes, still trying to figure out who the body was on the other end of the room.
“Is that— is that Oliv-“ “ON MY PERIOD, RAFE?! I’D BE FUCKING DEAD ALREADY IF THAT’S HOW MUCH I BLEED EACH MONTH, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”
Rafe briefly closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, attempting to block out your exasperating voice but failing miserably as it was the only thing he could hear at that moment. His breathing accelerated and his eyes narrowed as his frustration reached its boiling point, his vision blurred with a red haze of anger before punching a hole in the wall, the impact echoing throughout the room, sending shockwaves of sound outward. “FUCK! Why do you— why you always gotta fuck things up for us, huh? Can’t you just be a normal fucking girlfriend for once? Jesus fucking christ.”
A normal girlfriend? Your heart shattered into a thousand pieces at his words. Each syllable fell like a knife to the heart, leaving you more vulnerable and hurt. In that moment, you realized with a sense of sorrow that no matter how much you loved him, it would never be enough. Tears from sheer rage and heartache began to well up in your eyes as your grip on the knife tightened. You felt so misunderstood— why couldn’t he just see that no girl could ever love him the way you do? That everything you do is for him?
“I— I did this for you, Rafe, for us. Can’t you fucking see that? She was gonna— fuck—  she was gonna ruin what we have!” you spoke in a trembling but urgent voice, swaying the knife in front of his face as blood splattered all over the walls, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’d do anything for you, you hear me? ANYTHING! Nothing is ever gonna get between us, Rafe. And no one— no one will ever love you more than I do.” His eyes were eerily still, devoid of any trace of humanity, as he stood frozen, listening to your ramblings. It only fuelled your rage more, as you so desperately tried to get it through his head that you did it for him, with the best intentions, but Rafe gave no reaction.
“I just—  I just don’t get it… How the FUCK is this my-“ you continued with tears streaming down your face but gasped when you were abruptly interrupted by Rafe grabbing your face, leaving a red blood imprint on your cheek before pushing you against the cold wall followed by his lips meeting yours in a fervent urgency. His body was pressed against yours with his hand gripping the back of your head, pushing you deeper into him to intensify the kiss as your tongues danced together. At that moment, all your surroundings melted away as you were lost in the overwhelming need for each other.
Because oddly, it turned him on— your insanity turned him on. It stirred a sensation of warmth, a tingling feeling, and a deep sense of gratitude within him. Knowing someone loved him to the point of being willing to do anything for him, even if that meant killing— that was all Rafe needed in his lonely existence, longing for someone to love him with the same intensity he felt for them. Rafe Cameron just needed to be loved.
“You’re— you’re… fuckin’ perfect.” Rafe whispered, his voice laced with an unfamiliar sweetness as his blue eyes intensely gazed into yours. Perfect? You blinked a few times as you shook your head, unable to process the sudden change in demeanour. “W-what?” you stared at him before he cupped your face with both hands, a look of solace and devotion on his blood-stained face. “Listen to me, yeah? ‘m never gonna let you go, I fuckin’ promise that. I’d do anything for you— anything, you hear me? Gonna take good fuckin’ care of my girl, a’ight?”
A relieved smile graced your lips, a chuckle escaping as you found comfort before you leaned in to kiss him once more, the embrace deeper and more intense than before, filled with longing and desire. He pushed you towards the couch, making you stumble backwards while feeling more aroused with each step you took. It was a bizarre scene— both of you covered in fresh blood, hungrily touching every part of each other’s bodies, with two corpses on the floor next to you, still bleeding all over. But that wasn’t any of your concern at that moment. All you cared about was how his skilled hands moved over your skin, making you crave him even more.
Rafe, on the other hand, felt he still had something to prove— as if murdering a man wasn’t enough. He needed you to know how good he could make you feel. He needed you to understand that no man on this planet could treat you better than him. You could see it in his lustful eyes as he pushed you back on the couch, followed by him crawling on top of you and attacking your still blood-covered neck with hungry kisses. The ticklish feeling of Rafe’s mouth made you giggle as the metallic tang of blood flooded his senses, coating his tongue with an iron bitterness that lingered long. He didn’t know whose blood it even was, maybe both of theirs together mixed with yours, by the way he was so aggressively biting and sucking on your skin.
“Mine. All fuckin’ mine. Got it?” he snarled as he withdrew and grasped your face tightly, forcing you to look him into his intense eyes. You agreed with a nod, flashing a naughty smile as you gazed up at him coyly through your lashes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Don’t wanna go around killin’ the entire neighbourhood.” He growled, before trailing his lips to your earlobe, gently sucking on it as his expensive cologne filled your nostrils. “But I will if I have to.” His voice raspy as he spoke, making you become wetter with each passing second.
“Hm, i don’t doubt that.” You remarked before a moan escaped your lips caused by Rafe’s hand groping your tits under your shirt, massaging them over the laced bra that he bought for you. “But know that I would kill the entire female population of the Outer Banks.” He couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle, still wrapping his head around just how insane his girlfriend truly was. “You’re so fucked in the head, shit.“ he whispered, pulling your bra down and toying with your nipples, making you bite your lip, “Just how I like it.”
Rafe then grabbed the knife from where you had dropped it next to the couch, skilfully twirling it a few times. You observed him with a rush of anticipation, uncertain of his intentions. He slid the knife beneath your top, eliciting a gasp as he swiftly sliced through the fabric, ruining your clothes, before repeating the action with your shorts.
“Rafe, what the fuck!” You hissed in annoyance as he destroyed your clothes. “Those were my favourites! Oh, don’t you fucking dare do the same with my underwear” It was evident he wasn't taking you seriously, the smug smile on his face only grew bigger before he slipped the knife under your bra and cut it open as well in one swift motion.
“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know I can buy you anything you want, yeah?” Your lace underwear was next, leaving you inwardly agitated as he cut the fabric and flung it across the room. Seeing your dejected expression, he released an exasperated sigh. “Stop with the whining. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, a’ight?”
He seized you by the hips and quickly turned you around, pressing your face into the cushion before you could comprehend what was happening as in an instant, you found yourself face down with your ass up, angled towards him. “Fuckin’ soaked already, huh?” He suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and raised your head, then stuck his blood-covered fingers into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his digits with a mixture of blood and drool running down your chin while feeling his clothed boner press against your bare ass. “Yeah— that’s right baby. Lick my fingers clean like a good fuckin’ girl.” You could feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs before Rafe scooped it up with his now clean fingers and slipped them into you from behind, making you let out a hitched breath at the sudden sensation as you moaned his name.
It didn’t take long for his digits to find your g-spot as he skilfully rubbed against it, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your pornographic moans combined with the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you made it difficult for him to control himself any longer, so he abruptly pulled out, causing you to whine at the sudden loss of contact. “You bitch! I was so fucking close!” Rafe’s hand reeled back before you felt a stinging pain on your ass, making you jolt forward on the couch. “Watch that fuckin’ mouth if you wanna cum.”
You heard the unbuckling of a belt behind you followed by feeling Rafe’s erection teasing your folds, dragging the tip up and down as his precum mixed with your wetness. Growing increasingly impatient, you tried to push yourself back onto his cock, to no avail as he held your hips firmly. “Aww, poor girl wants it bad, huh?” his voice laced with faux sympathy. “Then beg for it.”
“Rafe just fucking do-“ your words were quickly interrupted by him grasping your hair and leaning down to your eye level. “I said fuckin’ beg for it.”
“Fuck. Please, okay! I need to feel you! Just, please, fuck me” Rafe pushed himself into you in one quick thrust, swallowed by your warmth as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He gave you no time to adjust as he stretched you out completely, causing a brief sensation of pain that was quickly replaced by pleasure. He let out a sigh at the feeling, one hand on your lower back and the other on your hip as he quickly set a brutal pace— deep, erratic thrusts hitting your sweet spots so perfectly. Your nails scraped against the leather of the couch, nearly tearing it apart as you pushed yourself back onto Rafe’s cock, making him grunt at the sight. He massaged your inner walls so perfectly, making you moan his name loudly over and over again.
Rafe suddenly stopped in his tracks, cautioning, “Stay still or this will hurt, like bad, a’ight?”, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion before hearing him reach for the knife once again from next to him, sending a gulp down your throat. You tensed, anticipating the sensation, well aware of what was about to happen, just as you felt the sharp edge of the blade against your delicate skin while he was still balls deep inside of you. “So fuckin’ pretty all covered in blood, shit.” You could feel the letters he was etching into your skin— R.C., his initials. Once he was done, he tossed the knife on the floor before quickly pulling out, causing you to whine at the sudden empty feeling as he leaned down, licking up your blood that was dripping from the fresh wounds, mingling with Olivia's still-stained blood on your skin. “Forever mine.”
Rafe slapped your ass once again, causing you to cry out from the stinging pain of his hand making contact with the fresh carvings on your skin. “Now, where were we?” He slipped into you again as he mercilessly continued his thrusts, strangled noises leaving your mouth at the sudden feeling. He noticed your moans were muffled by the pillow so he grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged it firmly, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.
“Shit, look at ya now. Not so tough anymore, huh?” Rafe groaned as he pounded into you, his brutal thrusts making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your vision started to blur. “Shut— up.” You muttered in between his thrusts, your mind all fuzzy as his tip repeatedly hit your cervix. You clenched around him when he kept hitting that one spot inside you, the pleasure building as you could feel his cock twitching inside you.
You arched your back with your eyes fluttering shut as felt your orgasm approaching. “I’m— I’m so fucking close, oh my god” You moaned out with your mouth agape, nails digging deep into the skin of his arm that was wrapped around your body as the sensation became too much for you.
“Come f’me, doll. Gonna fill you up so fuckin’ good” Rafe’s hand snaked around your body to rub fast circles on your sensitive clit, making you moan loudly as your orgasm abruptly struck you, causing you to clench hard around his cock with buckling knees. All your muscles tensed as you saw stars, a wave of pleasure fully overtaking you with Rafe still pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm. He came not too long after you, slow and drawn-out curses spilling from his lips with his head thrown back as you could feel the familiar pool of warmth fill you up to the brim, completely emptying himself inside of you as his orgasm hit him.
He rode out his high before he carefully pulled out as your chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm, each breath a struggle to fill your lungs with air while trying to regain your breath. “My pretty, pretty girl.” Rafe praised, staring at your cum-dripping cunt with a grin on his face.
As you opened your eyes, the harsh reality crashed over you like a wave, sending a shiver down your spine at the sight of the lifeless bodies lying across the floor. Panic laced your voice as you turned to face Rafe, desperation evident in your words. "Rafe? What the fuck are we going to do with the bodies?"
His response was surprisingly calm, his tone carrying an unsettling assurance. "Don't worry ‘bout that. I'll take care of it, a’ight?"
The eerie composure in his voice sent a chill down your spine, hinting at a familiarity with murdering that made your stomach churn. "What? How— how do you know how to clean up bodies?"
A sinister smirk crept onto his handsome features, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion and disbelief before his blue eyes stared deep into yours, holding you in their gaze with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Princess, what do you think happened to poor Jake last month? And Dylan before that?”
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months ago
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no one will know.
LN x fem!reader
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just a little blurby thing bc this man is a WHORE and apparently, so am i! the girlies were sending me this pic in a frenzy and bam: this was born (seriously, this pic has been up for like half an hour, this is a new record for me lmfao) what can i say, i was inspired.
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, oral (m receiving), sexy post race lando, taking pics during the deed hehe
approx. 500 words. short n sweet xoxo
lando was coated in a salty sheen of sweat, curls flopping messily over his forehead, nothing that couldn’t be fixed by a hand running through them. he raked his nails over his scalp, shuddering out a sigh, head falling back in utter bliss.
he’d been out of the car for about 15 minutes, and your mouth had been on him for the last five, swirling with a purpose around the head of his cock, your nails digging into the tanned skin of his upper thigh, sunkissed after two weeks of lounging around in nothing but his rather whoreish swimming shorts.
you moaned wetly around him, pads of your fingers brushing your soaked underwear. his neck flexed, teeth gritting as the vibration rattled through him, a sound of pure sex clawing from the back of his throat. he swiped blindly for something to grab a hold of, to steady himself, fingertips grazing the white and gold of his trophy. first place, shimmering, a winner.
lando’s eyes flew open, briefly watching how you bobbed your head up and down on him, your mascara coated lashes damp, eyes glazed and teary. he bucked his hips, unable to resist. you were a fucking picture.
a picture…
his phone had been thrown to the side as soon as you had fallen to your knees, long forgotten beside the trophy. lando grasped it between fingers that shook with pleasure and adrenaline.
“look at me angel, pose for me pretty girl.” lando rasped, aiming the camera at the woman on her knees all for him, worshipping him, celebrating him.
you looked up, fluttering your lashes, nose flush against the neat patch of hair above his cock, lips shiny red and coated.
you heard the shutter of the camera, taking him as deep down your throat as you could. he deserved this. he’d earned this.
you felt the pad of his thumb graze your cheek, the hand not holding the phone dragging you backwards and forwards on him. you were almost certainly dripping onto the floor.
your tongue gliding along his sensitive underside sent him over the edge, an incredulous grin adoring his devilish features. lando was the picture of sinful beauty as he came down your throat, waves and waves and waves of him trickling down your throat, out the corners of your swollen lips.
lando laughed breathlessly, stroking your cheek once more, a sign of affection and gratitude, his hands falling away. that same hand pawed at his trophy, holding it high, cradled against his bare chest.
you heard the shutter of his iphone once more, swallowing him down.
lando norris is the kind of guy that takes pictures with his trophy while his girl is on her knees.
he has two fingers fucking you open when he nonchalantly uploads the selfie to instagram. no one else will know that his mischievous grin isn’t just because of his second race win, but you will.
-
no tags, just a bluuuuuurb, fanks for reading ily
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lovers-rck · 10 months ago
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modern au where you accidentally send ellie, your bestfriend, a nude
pt 2 here , pt3 here pt4 here
"fuuuuuck"
that can't be happening.
"fuck fuck fuck" you scream "oh my god fuck me"
your fingers move across the screen trying to delete the photo but it's too late when you see that ellie has already seen it.
"im going to kill myself" you say "oh my god this can't be happening"
you almost threw the phone across the room the moment you heard the sound of a new message. and another. and another.
"please god i know i don't believe in you but help me" you whisper looking at your ceiling with your hands in prayer pose.
you can't be that stupid. there's no way you would have sent that picture to ellie, your best-fucking-friend in the whole world and the person you would fight for.
you want to create a hole in the floor so you can crawl in there and never come out again in your life.
ellieee: weird way to say hello but ok
ellieee: im pretty sure this was for another person
ellieee: i knew you weren't a saint
your fingers start typing as fast as they can, forming an extreme amount of sorry's.
me: IM SORRYW
me: I TRIED TO DELETE IT
me: IT WAS AN ERROR
me: MY OHONE JUST GLICHED AND I PRESS THE WRONG PHOTO
me: IM EMBARRASSED PLEASE BLOCK MY NUMBER FOR WVER
me: IM SO SORRY
you were about to send ellie a flyer of a band you like to go to this weekend but something weird happened with your phone that got stuck and you accidentally selected the picture next to it, which to your misfortune was a picture of your naked breasts covered only by your forearm, a picture you took a few hours before when you were feeling bored. by the time you realized what your phone had made you do, you had already pressed send.
you wanted to smash your head against the asphalt.
ellieee: it's okay
ellieee: i told you that you have to fix that phone
elieee: it's got a demon inside
you are quick to answer her, dying of embarrassment.
me: i will now
me: im sorry
me: im so embarrassed
a few seconds later you see how your cell phone shows that ellie is typing.
ellieee: don't be
ellieee: it was kinda hot
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sugurizz · 1 year ago
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(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)
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Nanami always keeps clear boundaries with his subordinates. He's a highly professional man who never crosses a line when it comes to mutual respect with everyone around him.
It's almost admirable in your eyes..How efficient he is, how perfectly he executes every task of his job. only does he seem different at times...
You're just so thoughtful it almost annoys him. You've already picked up on each and every one of his little habits; the way he likes his coffee, exactly when he takes his coffee breaks, where he usually hangs his freshly ironed jackets, where each piece of paperwork is kept in his office...
...Might be the old age but it makes him feel things when you knock on his door, when you greet him with the "Morning, Nanami-san, I sorted the documents from yesterday for you", or when you get his jacket for him without him even asking, with a sweet "Nanami-san, please don't forget your umbrella tomorrow, it's going to be rainy."
You're the only one who's allowed to adjust his tie when it's a bit loose, the only one allowed to lay your hands on his chest and fix his collar -breathing in the scent of his colone along the way-, the only one igniting his primal desire despite his exhausting life.
Might be the old age but he certainly wishes he could get this kind of treatment at home as well. He's rather lonely, overworked and tired whenever he gets back to his empty apartment..
Wouldn't it be better if you were the one to bake his fresh bread and prepare his delicious sandwiches for him? Give him a kiss before he heads to work and send him pictures of your legs spread with one of his designer ties barely covering your pussy?
Wouldn't it be so much better if he came back to strip you naked and take a steamy shower with you? push you on his king-sized bed to devour your sex, then have you all prepped and pretty to take his cock?
He'd be so happy with any of that, so happy he's now stroking himself and fondling his balls, trying his best to picture the way your tits pressed on his chest in the cramped elevator yesterday.
He knew your birthday was coming up but you never thought he'd even remember something so seemingly 'irrelevant' to him. So you didn't expect to find a luxurious box delievered to your doorstep, with a handwritten wishcard that had a familiar scent to it.
A note saying "wear them with your black heels, it'd look perfect" was inside the box, signed with a beautiful -Kento- on the corner...
---
"Nanami-san, your morning coffee." You greeted him with a smile the next day, leaning down as you gently posed the cup next to him.
"Nanami-san, I'm wearing your gift for my birthday. And the fabric feels so soft on me..."
a large hand pulled you back by the arm as you were about to walk off..
"Don't go there, sweet cheeks. you know I'll ruin you.."
"Then ruin me, Kento..."
I'll be at my desk if you ever need me."
You closed the door behind you, flashing him an innocent smile on the way...
---
Nanami san was missing at work that evening, secretary y/n was not there either. But thankfully your coworkers didn't know the reason behind your absence..
Nanami is busy training your throat in his spacious apartment. Your ass is on the cold floor tiles, body stripped to the lacy lingerie he bought you, caged between the wall and his lower half as he goes balls deep in your throat.
His tie is leashed around your neck with his leg pushing between your thighs, the tip of his expensive leather shoe bumping against your tiny clit.
"How much did this pussy think of me, hmm? does she like my shoe kissing her? playing with her?"
His leg presses harder, your eyes cross in pleasure as you suffocate on his veiny length..
"Look down princess, she's dirtying herself, drooling on my shoe.."
he frees himself from your mouth, leaving you with a drooly tongue and snotty nose as you shiver under him.
"Nanami..my pussy wants you, put it in her..please!"
"Nasty minx." He flicks his tongue with a grin, tears his shirt open to reveal his broad shoulders and toned chest, then tirelessly lifts you on his biceps.
"Aww...I want her too, princess.."
he kisses you senseless, giving himself a few pumps before he splits you open.
He's fevereshly rammimg inside you..golden strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, blushy cheeks blooming and hazel eyes almost teary as he finally feeds the hunger for you..
"Y/n...I need a wife! I want you-fuck-" you hug on him tighter, pussy clenching at the way he growls it against your lips... he paints your stomach white, his embrace deliciously crushing your body.
---
...A few days later the rumors started circulating among the coworkers; Both y/n and Nanami suddenly started wearing rings around the same time, and Nanami's office door started getting double locked, too often...
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bookshelf-dust · 18 days ago
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gentle fingers, gentler boy
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carmen berzatto x fem!hairdresser!reader
gif by @hotch-girl
word count: 3,589
warnings: swearing, joking mentions of arson, one donna mention, i don’t think anything else??
synopsis: carmy needs a haircut—desperately. or so natalie tells him. she sends him to you, and it’s safe to say carmy never would’ve expected a trim would turn into the best date he’s ever had in his life.
a/n: hello, my loves! don’t even ask my why this fic has taken me so long to write because i couldn’t tell you. but i do imagine it has something to do with the fact that i have the attention span of a goldfish these days. anyhow, i wrote this as a kind of predecessor to this fic, because something about carmy and his hairdresser gf is so special to me. let me know what you think!! happy reading <33
————
“You really do need a haircut, Bear.”
Sugar leans up against the office door frame. Her younger brother is hunched over the desk, an Igor incarnate, flipping through a pile of papers Cicero left for him. 
Richie’s voice booms throughout the kitchen. “I been tellin’ him that, Sug! It needs a wash, too. He’s startin’ to look like Jack…Jack…” He snaps his fingers, searching for a name. “The psycho asshole from The Shining!”
“Jack Torrence,” Marcus chirps.
“Jack Torrence!” Richie claps, making Sugar roll her eyes. She moves closer to Carmen, leaning against the corner of the desk. She crosses her arms. 
“I told you, Carm, you can go see my girl. She’s never done me wrong.” 
That small, gentle smile she has grows on her lips. Natalie gently pushes her brother’s shoulder. “And hey, she stopped me from getting bangs again a few weeks ago.”
Richie’s hands fly upward, pressing together in a prayer pose. “Thank fuck. Bangs were never your look, babe.”
“Shut up, Richie!” Sugar and Carmen’s voices ring out simultaneously, as if they’d rehearsed for this very moment of synchronization.
Carmy’s clogs drag against the tile floor as he braces his palms against the desktop and pushes himself backwards. He scrubs his face with his hands, leaving it tinged red when he finally relents.
He looks up at his sister, a firm wrinkle formed between her brows. Carmen huffs.
“What did you say her name was?” Carmy asks, eyes darting to the clock, searching for the time only to realize no one ever fixed the damn thing. “Hey, Richie! Can you get some fuckin’ batteries in here?”
Sugar’s eyes squeeze shut at the volume Carm’s voice has just reached. But nevertheless, she pinches her nose and says your name. 
“She’s like, fifteen minutes down the road. She went to school for it, she respects shy people, and I promise–she’s not gonna cut your ear off.”
Richie rounds the corner at that exact moment, a pile of double A’s shoved in his pocket. He pulls the analog clock off the wall and pries open the back panel. “Oh, you mean like that time Mikey snipped the tip of his ear clean–”
“Oh my god, enough, Richard!” Sugar’s hands fly around in front of her face. Unfortunately it only encourages Richie further, laughing to himself as he snaps four batteries into place. He’s still laughing—clapping his hands together because he’s so tickled—when he walks back toward the front of the house. 
Carmen’s fist covers his mouth. He’s tempted to laugh himself, but he at least knows better by now. Natalie sighs loud enough for the people across the street to hear. 
“Look, Carm. I’ll even make the appointment for you if that would help, but it’s gotta happen. You look like shit.”
Carmy snorts, standing up from the wonky office chair. “Thanks, Nat.”
Sugar’s phone is already in her hand. 
“So that’s a yes? What time would be best? Actually, I’ll just tell you when you’re going. Settled.”
————
“You getting off, Leigh?”
Your coworker ties her hair up in an artfully messy bun. “Yeah, babe. I took a half day because it’s date night tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, shimmying her way across the floor so she can plant a sweet kiss on your cheek.
“Your mom got the kids?” You ask, laughing to yourself as you rinse the leftover conditioner from your sink. 
Leigh claps her hands. “All weekend, girl!” 
You toss your gloves in the trash, letting her hug you and bounce up and down in glee. She deserves this. She hasn’t gotten a night out with her husband in months, their three-year-old twins keeping them more than occupied.
“I hope you have fun tonight. Drink something with Irish cream in it for me, will you?” 
Leigh’s hands pat your cheeks gently. “Oh, you know I will. Just wish you were getting out there too.”
You wave her away, and she’s quick to hold up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Is Natalie’s brother still coming in today?”
Your eyes dart to the clock over her head. “Should be here in like, five minutes.”
The doorbell chimes. 
Both yours and Leigh’s heads snap in that direction. 
“Or…now.”
“Oh, fucking Christ.”
Your eyes flick back to each other immediately, having spoken at the exact same time. Leigh is not gonna let your outburst go. 
There’s already a devilish grin growing across her face. “You think he’s hot, don’t you?”
You dart around her. “No. Those words never left my mouth.”
She catches you by the belt loop. “You’re right, I believe your exact words were ‘Oh fucking Christ, he could bend me over right here.’” Leigh’s laughter bubbles up and you fear she might keel over. 
“That is an exaggeration,” you huff. 
Leigh slings her worn out, bright red purse over her shoulder. “Bet you were thinking it though.” She risks a glance over her shoulder. “You’re not wrong though. His arms are huge. And you better go help him before we get a bad Yelp review.”
You start to wave her away. “Yeah, alright.” You follow her towards the front desk. “Have fun tonight,” you shout, “and remember to make sure you have meds for tomorrow’s hangover.”
She fake gasps, pausing just beside where Carmen is standing. “Me? Hungover? Never.” Leigh lowers her sunglasses just slightly and directs her next few words at the man in front of her. “She’ll take real good care of you, youngest Berzatto.”
The doorbell chimes as Leigh makes her way out to her beat up Mustang, leaving you and Carmy alone out front. 
He laughs awkwardly, shuffling towards the front counter to meet you.
“Sorry about her,” you say. “She’s full of it. Anyway, Carmen, right? Natalie told me you’d try and come by today.”
Carmy’s cheeks burn with embarrassment from being put on the spot. But also because you’re so…pretty. He manages to pull together a few coherent words. 
“She really said try?” he asks, the barest of smiles gracing his lips.
You cross your arms and walk over to your station. “No. It was more of ‘He’ll be there at 4:30 tomorrow or else I’m going to burn down The Bear and keep the insurance money for myself.’”
Carmen scratches at his curls. “Yeah, that I believe.”
You gently pat the back of your leather chair. “You can sit whenever you’re ready. I realize I never really introduced myself.” You say your name, and even if it’s a name Carm has heard a hundred times before, it somehow sounds hypnotizing falling off your lips. 
The leather backing is cold through Carmy’s t-shirt. He hopes the shiver that moves down his spine when you thread your fingers through his hair passes off as the coinciding goosebumps. 
“So, what are we thinking today, Carmen?”
His big blue eyes blink at you through the mirror. “Carmy,” he says.
“Hm?” you hum, running a wide-toothed comb carefully through his curls so that nothing snags. 
“You don’t have to call me Carmen. Makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” A low laugh tumbles over his lips. “Carmy is fine.”
You smile at him. “Okay, Carmy. What would you like me to do with your hair today? Buzz cut? Mohawk?” You walk around to face him head on. “Extensions?”
You notice how nervously he plays with his hands. But you get it. You’re hoping to make him as comfortable as you can, and not just for that good Google review.
Carmy runs a hand over his mouth, hiding the sweet smile that’s growing there. The crinkles by his eyes give it away. You’re so fucking charming he can’t stand it. 
He clears his throat. “I was thinking just a trim? It’s kinda long over my eyes, and sometimes it’s good to see things.” You giggle. 
Good god, how’s he gonna get through this?
“Maybe a little shorter on the sides, too.”
“Like a mullet?” You quip.
He snorts. “Nah, not a full mullet. Maybe where it’s barely noticeable that it’s shorter there? I’m also shit at taking care of it, so if you could help with that…”
You take your bottom lip between your teeth. Carmy has to clear his throat, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “How ‘bout this. I’ll take you to the sink and give it a wash, and then we’ll trim it, and I can have you help me style it so it’s easier when you’re at home?”
Carmy nods. “Yeah, that’d be great, thank you.” 
Your hand slides across the back of his shoulders as you move away and towards the back room full of head-sized basins. “Come on then, Mr. Berzatto. Let’s wash that pretty head of yours.”
————
“That feels so good,” Carmen says, the words leaving his mouth before he has a moment to think them over. “Wait—is that a weird thing to say?”
You laugh from your place behind him. “No, not at all. That’s why I keep my nails a little longer, because my clients always tell me this is the best part.” Your hands are covered in a lavender-scented shampoo, your fingertips massaging the foam into his scalp. “A good head scratch does wonders for the soul.”
You watch Carmy’s lips lift at the corners. His eyes are closed, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he dozed off. You’re always happy to keep a conversation going with clients, but the silence is just as well.
The sounds of foils getting folded in place by your coworker out front, the air conditioner, the radio—it’s all oddly soothing. The radio station Leigh always sets it on has the oddest selection of music choices for one given channel. Not that you mind that either. 
You rinse Carmen’s hair out and apply conditioner to the mids and ends of his curls. You blindly grab a comb, muscle memory putting it in your grasp in seconds.
Carmy swears he’s gonna knock out. He’s trying about as hard as he did in school when he knew he should be paying attention to whatever math lesson but couldn’t keep his eyes open. And when your words reach his ears, he thinks you’ve just read his mind. Sensed the sleep pricking at his eyelids. 
“You do have really nice hair, Carmy. Anyone else in your family have curls?”
You watch the way his brows knit together. “I think my mom? You’d never know it though. She’s straightened it every day since I was a teenager, like even when we weren’t leaving the house.”
You focus on your final rinse of his hair, allowing him to continue. “When I was a kid though, if she showered before bed and I needed her, her hair would be all wet and curly. That’s the only time I saw it like that.”
Carmy sits up when you wrap a thin towel around his head, holding it secure as he follows you back to your station. 
“Leigh, the woman leaving when you came in? She has lots of clients like that. A lot of people weren’t taught how to take care of their curly hair.”
“Is that a hint?” Carmen quips. It makes you snort. 
“Just a gentle one.”
Carmy watches while you cut his hair. Every once in a while your tongue will poke out, or you’ll wiggle your hips to a song on the radio. When you’re almost finished, what Carmen thinks is a Madonna song comes on. 
You start humming, and Carmy knows he’s done for. Richie would call him whipped. He probably will tomorrow morning, just by reading Carm’s face. 
“Out of the sky, I close my eyes…heaven help me.”
Carmy lets out a little laugh because you’re doing this little dance as you sift through his curls. You hear it, and it only encourages you more. 
“Big Madonna fan?” he asks, his hand rubbing over his mouth to hide the boyish grin there. The tattoo on his hand catches your eye. 
“She’s good for the soul.”
You crouch in front of him, rummaging through a cabinet for he doesn’t know what. “Your tattoos are pretty, by the way,” you say. It takes him by surprise. 
“Oh. Thanks.”
You emerge with two bottles. “Do people not usually compliment them?” You spray his hair down with cool water, getting it to the stage of damp you need for the products to work. 
Carmy laughs lowly. Maybe with a little hint of embarrassment. “Nah, they usually ask me what the hell they are or if I was drunk when I got ‘em.”
“Were you?”
He meets your playful gaze. “Only for a few.” Your smile is downright gleeful. 
“M’kay, Carm. Let me give you the rundown.” He straightens and you get a glimpse of the chef he left at The Bear to visit you today. “So this is a leave-in conditioner. After you shower, you put just a little of this in your hands—like this—and kinda run it through your hair all over. Just so it’s in there well.”
You demonstrate, and for the first time, Carmy finally understands how people can look at him and question his ability to cook so seamlessly. That’s the way you do hair. Like it’s as easy as breathing for you. 
“And this is a gel. It’s super lightweight, so it won’t feel gross or anything, and it’s not expensive either. You wanna use a little more of this, but not by much. You can do the same sort of thing, because your hair takes shape really easily since it’s not damaged any. And once that’s distributed, I want you to scrunch it some, just to get any excess product, but also to help any curls that need encouragement.”
You bite your lip because Carmy is nodding along, giving you his complete attention and it’s fucking adorable. 
“And if there’s any curls by your face or anything, you can use your fingers to define them so they look how you want. You think you can do all that?”
Carmy laughs. “Not a chance.” Then you’re both laughing, and it feels so comfortable anyone would think you’d known each other for years. 
“It takes practice. I’m gonna give you these to take home and use.” Your hand disappears in your back pocket for just a moment. “But if you want to put your number in my phone, I can always send you instructions if you need help…”
Carmy pauses. Freezes, even. You look at him nervously, afraid that maybe your ability to read the room has evaporated. Luckily, he proves you wrong. 
“Wow. That was smooth.”
You exhale and laugh into the back of your hand. “I’m never that smooth, I don’t know how I managed that,” you chuckle. Carmy’s fingers fly over your keyboard. 
“Thank you for today, really. I usually avoid the hairdresser at all costs.”
“Sugar did tell me that,” you grin. 
“M-maybe I could make you dinner or something, for putting up with me…?”
Your face warms. “I’d like that, yeah.”
Carmy blinks. His phone goes off where you’ve shot him a text with just your name and a smiley face. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah.”
He rubs his hands together. “Okay, cool. Alright, yeah. What do you like?”
“I wouldn’t say no to pasta. Pasta is good in all forms.”
————
“You can tell me if you hate it. I won’t be offended.”
“I think you might have a nervous breakdown though, and you’re too pretty for that.”
Carmy blushes, shaking his head at you. 
“What?” you laugh. “It’s true.” Your voice has a sing-song lilt to it. Over the past few weeks you’ve gotten to know Carmy a bit better. He’s been busy though, so it’s taken longer than expected to have dinner together. 
He made up for it by providing you with pasta and cheesecake for dessert. He’s wearing this thick sweater, your eyes locking on his forearms where he’s rolled up the sleeves. 
Sugar was so excited when you texted her after his hair appointment. 
Natalie B: How’d it go? Was he a total pain in the ass?
You: it went well! got him all sorted out. he offered me dinner as a thank you (after he paid, of course). would that weird you out??
Natalie B: OMG NO!! He’s got such a giant stick up his ass, maybe your charm pulled it out! Go have fun. Leigh was telling me you hadn’t been on a date in forever last time I was in anyhow.
You: brb blocking both of you shitheads ♥️
You hadn’t expected a haircut to lead to any of this, but sitting here, in Carmy’s sparsely furnished apartment, looking at the soft smile on his face and the nervous way he’s fussing with his fingers as you eat the dinner he made you, you’re grateful.
Not that you’ll tell Natalie that. Or Leigh. They don’t need that ego boost. 
You wipe your mouth on a napkin and look up to see that Carmy is gazing at you expectantly. You laugh, his eye contact making you a little nervous. 
“It’s good, Carm. Really good. You can eat.”
He swipes his hand down his face, but when it comes down to grab his fork, he lets you see his smile. “I’m glad you like it. Not too much parsley or anything? I didn’t add lemon because Sugar mentioned you saying you didn’t like pasta with too much lemon juice in it.”
Your mouth drops open. That’s such a small, easy to forget thing. Maybe you will have to give Nat a hug. 
You reach out to touch his hand. Tentatively, just in case it’s too far. “That’s so sweet, Carmy. It’s perfect, really. And honestly the lemon thing is from one very overpowering pasta experience. Maybe whatever you make me will be better.”
Carmen takes a big bite of pasta and a swig of beer so he has time to collect himself. “Maybe we can fix your lemon-related trauma.”
“As long as there’s a backup snack in case the lemon PTSD can’t be fixed.”
You both burst into a fit of giggles. The rest of dinner goes by, filled with conversation about everything and nothing—Carmy’s lack of knowledge about current television, your love of reading and need for someone to share the plots with. 
Carmen is making you a plate to take home with you when he’s finally psyched himself up to ask his question. He says your name and you peer at him from your spot against the counter. 
“I-uh…I’ve been trying to do my hair the way you taught me, but I can’t get it right. I was wonderin’ if you’d show me? Maybe? You don’t have to—”
“Of course I can. All you had to do was ask.” You push off the counter and beam at him. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
You’re lucky you already learned the way to his bathroom so that your streak of confidence would continue working so well. And when you squeeze out some of the hair gel into Carmy’s hands, you know he just needed an excuse. He’s got it down pat. 
He runs his hands through his hair, scrunching clumps together every now and then, finger-curling the pieces up front and by his ears. Now you’re just waiting to see what he really wanted to say. 
You cross your arms, attempting to look serious, but you can’t hold back the grin spreading across your face. 
Carmen looks over at you, drying his hands now that they’re free of product. He’s never been great at reading people, but that look in your eye tells him he’s a shit actor. 
“So, that didn’t fool you, huh?”
You giggle. “Not at all, Berzatto. You couldn’t even fake how well you’ve learned to do your hair.”
Carmy takes a step closer to you, rubbing his nose self-consciously. “I’m very bad at saying what I’m thinking. Or saying what I want.”
“I can see that.”
He squints at you, his lips ticking up just slightly. 
“So what is it you want but are too scared to say?” you start. “Do we need to play hangman?” 
That would normally get a laugh out of him, but he’s too on edge. Inhale. Exhale. Oh, just fucking say it, Carm. 
“I wanna kiss you.”
Your ears burn. You release your bottom lip from where it was pinned between your teeth. “I was hoping you’d say that. Please do.”
You push up on your tiptoes, suddenly bursting with excitement and hoping that’ll convey to Carmen that he doesn’t need to be nervous because you want this just as bad. 
It works. 
You put your hands on Carmy’s collarbones the second his fingers slip into your hair. Your nervous system lights on fire, thoughts of how much surface area his palms cover racing through your mind. He kisses you all shy and hesitant at first, like he’s nervous he won’t do what you’re hoping. 
His lips are warm, and you can feel the spots where he’s chewed them raw. You can’t help but think that kissing him might be a good way to break that habit. His nose presses into your cheek, tickling you and making you giggle.
Carmen pulls away, smiling at you. “What’s so funny?”
“Your nose was tickilin’ my cheek.”
“Oh? Like this?” He starts dragging his nose across your face and then down to your neck when he feels you start to laugh harder. He thinks he’s finally cracked the code. It seems like pasta and nose tickles are the proper way into your heart. 
————
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note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
rb banner from @steph-speaks
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tswhiisftteedr · 10 months ago
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Wings ☆ Drabble/Really Short One Shot
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☆ Adam x Wingless Angel!Fem!Reader :
They were just so pretty, you couldn’t help but touch your boyfriend’s beautiful golden wings. And hey, what was the worst that could happen’ probably nothing too bad, right?
Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation, Adam is a bit condescending and forceful, but hey, it’s Adam we’re talking about. Oral Sex(Female Receiving), Penetrative Sex, First Time As A Couple. NOT PROOFREAD.
Words: 2330
Ask: Hi! ^^ Omg I saw that your requests are open!! I have one for Adam from Hazbin Hotel. I have a headcanon that his wings are very very sensitive and when you touch them it drives him crazy. Could you please do a Nsfw/ smut headcanon, or scenario with him and his female S/O just hanging out, him eating and she gets curious and touches softly them (not knowing what the affect it)? I hope you have a beautiful day!
Note: Of course!! And thank you, hope you also have a beautiful day/night!! Thanks for the request, right now I’m going to work on my others lol. Hope you like what I wrote!!
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☆ more under the cut. ☆
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Ever since your ascent to Heaven post-mortem, a sense of exclusion lingered in your heart. Unlike most heavenly beings with wings, you were one of the few soul that lack that part of the brand new heavenly anatomy. While everyone in Heaven remained kind and courteous, the infrastructure, were obvious designed for winged inhabitants. That posed you quite the challenges, especially when you where in need of transportation— the lack of automobiles was your greatest nemesis in the afterlife, as everyone effortlessly soared using their wings they didn’t need them.
Despite a subtle feeling of inferiority, your fascination with wings endured. Their majestic allure captivated you, and the desire to experience the softness of the beautiful contraptions persisted. ‘You just had to feel them!’
And you were determined to do so today, as you had received an invitation from Adam to come over.
Currently, you find yourself enjoying takeout on the expansive balcony of his penthouse. It was nice scenery, a comfy outdoor couch with a coffee table full of food.
As he rambled about his day, you nodded along, your attention solely fixed on the captivating golden wings adorning his sides and back. Sneakily inching closer to him, captivated by their beauty. “—Anyways that chick had a huge rack,” He pauses to take a bite of his burger, “So I guessed even Karen ass bitches can be hot.” he finishes with gulp.
Then you finally had a hold of them, ‘his marvellous wings!’ You were engrossed at their exquisite softness, surpassing any feathers from animals you had ever touched. Lost in the delicate material for about a solid five minutes, it had than dawned on you that Adam had stopped talking. Looking back up at him, you notice he had dropped his burger on the table. Then when you glanced at his face, you noted that he looked ‘different’, if you had to describe it, his face almost looked feverish.
In a blink, you were flipped onto your back and hit the couch cushions, then one of Adam's hands pinned both of your hands above your head.
“Fuuuck, babe! You don't need to get so handsy just because your jealous, you could've just fucking said so instead of acting a little tease, feelin’ me up and all.” He informs you while staring down at your perplexed expression, because, while Adam talked dirty in general, you had  no idea  what  you had done to be a tease in this particular  situation.
While that question spun in your head, Adam moved closer to your ear, his words jolting you out of your thoughts.
“if you were feeling needy, you just had to speak up. You know I would never leave my girl hanging, especially if getting her little brains fuck out is what she wants.” His voice low, full of desire and malice. He then playfully nip at your ear, ‘now who was the tease again?’
“Wait what— Um, Adam, where is all this coming from?!” You speak up, clearly nervous as a result of your boyfriend's statements and how close your bodies were together.
“The fuck you mean? You started this shit.” He begins, slowly sliding his free hand up your thigh. “Getting in my personal space, touching my wings to get me riled up, are you really gonna play the clueless card now you slutty little thing.” His hand now reaching under you shirt. “Think you can mess with me and just act like nothing happened, huh?” He says as he fondles with one of your breast.
“What do mean get you riled up, I barely touch you!?” You speak out anxiously; this was going far beyond anything you had done before. You two would kiss passionately at most, never doing anything remotely close to, 'well this!' It was strange; he almost acted like he did when he was mad, but this was somewhat different.
"Bold lie for an angel, like you wouldn't know— Oh, riiiight, you don't have wings." It had now dawned on him that you were utterly clueless of the affects the soft petting you gave to his wings had on him, and how depraved it made him feel.
"Yeah. I am not sure what I did to you when I touched your wings, but let me make one thing clear: it was unintentional. Seriously, they seemed soft, and I wanted to know how nice they were to the touch. So I'm sorry for making you mad; I should have asked before touching them.” You explain.
"Aww babes, don't worry, you didn't make me mad, and I'll tot's forgive you,"
You briefly relax as he speaks, well that is, until he opens his mouth again.
"Yeah I'll definitely forgive you if take care of my raging hard on for me'." He emphasised his words by grinding himself against you, making you feel his erection, and oh boy! Was he big; his self-appointed title of 'dickmaster' didn't seem so baseless anymore.
Your heart races faster as you feel a wave of panic wash over you. Despite his words, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about the situation. It was a big milestone to you, ‘the first time the two of you would have intercourse’.
You squirmed slightly, attempting to break free from his hold due to nerves but soon realize it was futile with him pinning your hands above your head. "I... I'm not sure that—," you started to say, but before you could finish, he cut you off.
"Shut up and enjoy the ride, babes." He growled softly, taking advantage of your momentary hesitation to quickly roughly kiss your lips. His tongue thrusts aggressively into your mouth, demanding entry while his other hand continues cupping your breast, squeezing and groping roughly. His erection presses harder against your thigh, digging into your sensitive flesh.
Despite your initial protests and confusion, you can't deny the familiar thrill coursing through your veins. You knew better, yet you still arch into his touch, moaning softly against his rough treatment.
As a warning to quit your shifting around, Adam's grip tightens around your wrists, almost painfully so, causing you to whimper in discomfort mixed with arousal.
And when he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing is heavy and labored.
"You like it, don't you?" He asked, his voice low with desire. His hips rock back and forth, grinding against you harder, making sure you felt every inch of his member. "Admit it, Y/N."
"A-adam, please... I—," you pleaded while being out of breath, but your words were cut off by another deep kiss. His tongue forced its way past your lips, exploring your mouth hungrily yet his hand didn't stop its manhandling of your chest. Meanwhile, his cock throbbed painfully against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your clothes.
The sensation was too much for you to handle; despite your original nervousness, the thoughts of messing up or not being enough had dissipated, and you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him anymore. You wanted him and he was totally into you.
Plus your body responded to his touch in ways you didn’t expect it to, it was incredibly in tune with his wants. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as he continued his assault on both your body and mind.
Suddenly, Adam pulled away, his breathing heavy and short. "Good girl," he praised, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now, spread those legs for me."
While being aroused, you still reluctantly spread your legs wide apart, letting him take off your shorts and exposing your wet panties. "Please, Adam," you whimpered, unable to resist his advances any longer.
With a growl of lust, he ripped off your remaining clothes, revealing your naked body to him. His eyes devoured every inch of you—your stomach, to your hips and obviously your beautiful pussy. Without further ado, he leaned forward, his mouth descending upon your navel, tracing slow, hot lines with his tongue before moving lower still. "Mmmm, you smell so fucking good toots," he murmured against your sensitive flesh.
His hands trailed downwards too, cupping your thighs in his palms, squeezing and kneading them. Soon switching to one free hand and one holding down your legs, inching his face to your then and lapping at your heat.
“Adam, what in the heavens are you doing!?"
“Uh, trying to eating you out, pretty obvious babes”
"Yeah, I get that, but like, why?? You always complain about 'bitches being annoying for demanding you go down on them.' when you mentioned passed relationships"
"Oh yeah, I did say that lmao. Honestly, I just feel like it. You look so pathetically adorable; I couldn’t help myself."
“Did— did you just lmao out loud?”
“Do you want me to stop eating you out with all your interruptions.” He threatens.
"No! I mean, I'm alright. Please continue."
"That’s what I thought too, babes," he grinned around your wet folds, sucking and licking at your sensitive spots. His tongue traced along your cunt, flicking against your clit before returning to tease your entrance again.
You moaned softly, your hands grasping tightly onto Adam's horns as he continued to pleasure you. You arched into him, letting out a soft whimper when his long tongue brushed against your G-spot. "Mmmhmmm... More please..." you managed to mutter between heavy breaths.
He chuckled lightly against your sensitive flesh before pulling away slightly. "Alright, alright." With renewed vigor, he returned to his task with even more enthusiasm, sucking harder and faster on your clit while his fingers teased her opening. He could feel your wetness increasing rapidly, seeping down onto his hand.
Your body trembled and shook in response to the intense sensations assaulting every inch of your being; you were close now—very close. Your breathing became increasingly shallow as she fought the impending orgasm building up inside of her. Then finally you reached sweet climax.
Adam momentarily let go of you to undress himself, now cock in hand."Tell me you want it," he demanded between kisses to neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.
"I... I do," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible above your heavy breathing.
"That's my girl," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without warning, he thrust his cock deep inside you, filling you completely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the unfamiliar yet familiar feeling washed over you. His thrusts were fast and hard, pounding into you relentlessly. Each powerful stroke brought forth a moan from your throat, mixing with his growls of pleasure.
Your body adjusted quickly to his size, accommodating him easily despite initial discomfort. You arched your back against him, meeting his rhythmic thrusts. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever experienced before—it hurt, but in the best possible way. Your chest bounced with each powerful thrust.
As Adam continued to ravish you, his fingers found their way between your legs, rubbing and massaging your sensitive folds. He teased and tormented your clit mercilessly, causing waves of intense pleasure to ripple through your core. After staring at your lower half for a minute, “I should totally get my name tatted on you, like a crotch tattoo or some shit.” he tells you in his usual goofy tone, yet the look behind his eyes seem to say that he wasn’t completely joking. You on the other could only cry out his name between ragged breaths, begging for more.
“That's it, you filthy little whore," he murmured between labored breaths. "Tell me how much you love this, slut." His pace picked up even more, slamming into you harder and faster than before. Your moans echoed around the room as he relentlessly claimed your body.
In response to his demand, you managed to choke out, "I... I love it!" Your voice cracking with desire, filled with honesty despite yourself.
"Good girl." He growled, picking up speed. His hips slammed against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His fingers continued their relentless assault on your sensitive spots, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. As a reflex you grabbed at his back, well in this case, his wings.
And that action fucked with him so bad. So Adam bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark that would later turn into a pretty obvious hickey. Blood trickled down your skin, but it only served to heighten your arousal. "Cum for me, babe," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust. "Let go, don’t think too hard about it"
You were close, so close to the brink of orgasm. The constant barrage of stimulation was too much for your body to handle, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "A-Adam... I'm..."
"That's it, baby," he encouraged you, his words thick with desire. He increased the pace even more, pounding into you relentlessly.
With a loud cry, you release around him, your pussy contracting tightly around his cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Your entire body shook with the force of your climax, and sweat trickled down your body, mixing with his saliva and cum.
Adam groaned in satisfaction, following suit moments later, filling you up with his hot seed. Panting heavily, he lifted his head to stare into your eyes, his gaze filled with lust and satisfaction. "That was fucking amazing, shit, that’s why your my fav."
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After momentarily going inside to get cleaned up, you had returned to the balcony.
“Shit my burger is cold!” Adam bitches.
“Well what did you expect it was left on a table while being outdoors— Oh, shit, did someone-?” You begin, than the realization of the what just happened hits Locke a truck.
“-Hear us? Yeah most likely, but doesn’t really matter, they won’t do shit about it, well probably.” He says followed by a laugh.
Sometimes you wondered why you were dating someone so irresponsible, but after today, you did have another bullet point to add to your pros list. ‘The dick was good’
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