#it's not like I have to be up for work in like an hour ahahah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silentsneezes · 18 days ago

Note

Heyy me again… ahahah

Do you have any silco with allergies hc’s or maybe a k!nk Silco/Vander Zaundads fic?

Totally asking this with normal intentions, completely not obsessed or anything!

(Im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure i love your writing)

thank you anon!! trust me when i say i'm also gnawing at the bars of my enclosure... so here's almost 3k of sick v/ander and kink s/ilco

i'll probably continue this in the future, but between university and life things i haven't had as much time to write... so we'll see

anyways, this is set pre-everything in the show. you could read it as an au if you want!

The Last Drop on a Saturday is no fucking joke. Vander knows that full well, always double checking his list of opening tasks to ensure things run smoothly. Only a few hours after opening, the dimly lit, smoke-filled haven is already filled to its capacity. Earlier that day, there had been a boxing match held in a nearby arena, and it’s safe to say people are still riding that high. Vander picks up on arguments over bets that were won or lost, prideful drunkards boasting about how they’d been rooting for the champion all along.

The bar practically roars with the infectious excitement, only encouraged by the drinks the patrons continue to slam back. Vander doesn’t mind, he’s quite pleased with how popular his bar is, especially on nights where boxing matches occur. Everyone needs a good drink after a match, he supposes. Plus, the influx in business never hurts– people typically become more generous tippers the drunker they get.

Vander works mindlessly as he pours drink after drink, zoning out to the sounds of raucous laughter, the clink of glass against wood, and the quiet kshhhh of the keg. The conversations are nothing more than a full-on-chorus, which has its pros and cons.

On one hand, it allows Vander to zone out to the constant noise, letting himself work without second thought.

On the other hand, Vander feels like fucking shit. He’d been coming down with something the past couple of days, but he’d figured it wasn’t anything a few DayQuil couldn’t fix. Now, he’s beginning to realize that he was sorely mistaken in his initial dismissal of the cold. His usual charming grin doesn’t come as easily tonight, and when he wipes his brow, it’s not just due to the heat of the room. His skin is coated in a feverish sheen, his cheeks uncharacteristically flushed as he forces himself to work through his rising fever.

The frequenters of the bars notice– at least those sober enough to– but they’ve seen this before. Vander’s tough. He’s the kind of guy who keeps his bar open for better or for worse, so when he’s sick, they just give him a look of silent understanding: he’ll be fine, he always is.

As ‘fine’ as Vander might be, his movements are dulled by fever. He keeps moving, keeps working—filling mugs, passing shots, refilling drinks– functioning as if he’s on autopilot. His work is only interrupted as he hears the familiar drawl of his friend’s voice.

“Is anybody home?” Silco asks with a slight smirk, looking Vander up and down as he takes a seat on the barstool closest to the sick man, observing his absent expression. Vander opens his mouth to reply, pausing momentarily to clear his throat before gruffly responding, “very funny, Silco,” sarcastically. He starts making Silco’s drink wordlessly, knowing exactly what the other likes. Vander doesn’t bother filling the silence between the two of them, letting the steady roar of auditory input wash over him.

“Long day?” Silco questions, frowning as a nearby customer lets out a howl of laughter at his own joke, “I’ll bet you 20 gold coins he soils himself by the end of the night.”

Vander finds it somewhat amusing how Silco always seems to take issue with the other patrons of the bar, as if he finds himself somewhat above this crowd. “I’d be an idiot to take you up on that,” Vander says with a tired grin, his lips barely curling upwards as he leans in, resting his weight on the bartop. He places the drink in front of Silco with a heavy thud, the glass almost too solid in his grip, as if it’s an anchor to keep him from slipping under the noise and fatigue. “You know how they get after boxing matches.”

“Oh, do I,” Silco replies, the words clipped, his voice carrying an immense judgement of those customers who lack any semblance of manners or public decency. He doesn’t like them, doesn’t trust them, but he does like Vander.

Vander struggles to think up a response, his usual charm and banter replaced with a steady painful thrum threatening to become a migraine. The noise of the bar presses against his skull like a vice, and just as he finally manages to think up an adequate response, he feels it coming. A tickle in his nose, faint at first, but enough to make his breath catch as it buzzes through his sinuses.

At first he tries to fight it, swiping at his nose roughly with the backside of his hand. His other hand searches his pockets for a rag, a handkerchief, anything. Unfortunately for him, the sneeze builds quickly. His eyes are forced to scrunch shut as his chest swells with an urgent, “hhHHHH-” and for a half-second, everything around him goes blurry, the pressure in his sinuses making his head swim, “hHHRRZZSCHHH’HUw!!”

Vander turns away from the bartop just in time, snapping forwards into his elbow with a resounding sneeze, one that grates his throat enough as to where he has to blink away a few tears. Silco watches with rapt attention, his abdomen pooling with hot attraction as he observes Vander’s broad frame nearly bend itself in two with the force of the sneeze.

“Bless you,” Silco purrs, his voice low and sultry. The blessing practically rolls off of his tongue, and yet Vander knows it’s not just out of politeness. You see, Silco doesn’t just bless anyone. For him, offering a blessing is somewhat of a privilege, something one earns through continuous affection, and he and Vander are nothing if not affectionate.

“I’ve got the whole damn package today—head full of cement and a nose that thinks it’s spring,” Vander mutters, barely able to keep the irritation out of his voice. Had he not known about Silco’s kink, he would’ve been entirely fed up with his body's need to sneeze. Except there’s a sliver of him that can’t help but relish the fact that he can make Silco squirm so easily. If he has to feel so utterly miserable, someone might as well enjoy it, right?

And he is miserable, nothing short of it. Silco, however, seems to be basking in Vander’s sickness, finding it difficult to resist the sight of his friend turned fuck-buddy turned… whatever it is they are now.

“Why is it you insist on working when you’re sick?” Silco questions, knowing full-well the stubborn answer he’s about to receive– it’s the same every time.

Except Vander doesn’t answer, letting Silco’s question hang in the air as he raises a hand to his nose. It’s back again, that bothersome, tantalizing itch that’s been wreaking havoc on his nose all night, “hhHHH’uh-”

At the sound of Vander’s hitch, Silco prepares himself for the imminent sneeze. Vander has never been one to have dramatic build ups when he’s sick– though allergies are an entirely different feat– rather, his sneezes come on quickly with one to two hitches beforehand.

Unable to find a rag in time, Vander settles for cupping a broad hand over his nose and mouth, “hHHMMPH’DSSXCHHhew!” The sneeze is barely muffled against his palm, and Vander can feel moisture threatening to slip through his fingers. He pinches his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, gathering the residual mess and moving to wash his hands.

When Vander returns to the bartop, he sees Silco, his gaze intensely focused, waiting with that unsettling calm, as if he could pounce at any moment. Had the countertop not been separating them, Vander is certain Silco would be draping an arm around his waist and pulling him close. And god does he want that.

Just as Vander moves to prop himself against the bartop again, he hears a drunken, “Oi! Vander!” and groans internally, straightening up and snapping out of his exhausted haze. The woman, a regular frequenter of the bar, leans against the other side of the counter with a casual air, “Get me something strong, but nice. I’ve got a lady to impress,” she says with a smirk. Usually, Vander would have the energy to engage in some sort of playful banter, perhaps asking the customer as to who she’s pursuing tonight. Instead, he rattles off a few drink options, giving her a sideways glance as she chooses the strongest of the drinks he’d proposed, “You sure? It’s got one hell of a kick.”

The customer dismisses his warning with a wave of her hand and a chuckle, “I’m feeling lucky today.”

“Liquid luck,” Silco tuts almost inaudibly from his seat, though it goes unheard by anyone aside from Vander, “what a foolish concept.”

Vander’s lips curl into a slight smirk at the sound of Silco’s words, but he forces himself to maintain focus. He has a job to do. With a sigh, Vander grabs a glass, still feeling the steady ache that only a cold can instill. As he’s about to start mixing, he feels that nagging sensation in his nose return, the familiar tickle building once again. He grimaces, trying to hold it back for the sake of not sneezing into a customer's drink, but his body has a different plan. His breath hitches involuntarily, forcing him to pivot away from the countertop without even setting the glass down first. He draws in a final, urgent breath before snapping forwards and spraying the tiled floor with an uncovered, “hHHRRRSSXCHHHh’eHw!”

As the sneeze fades, Vander stays still for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, his body still catching up with the sudden burst of pressure. He forces himself to stand upright, tending to the moisture clinging to his septum with his sleeve. He’d usually have a bit more decorum when it comes to covering and utilizing his sleeve as a tissue, for the sake of germs moreso than any feeling of embarrassment, but he’s too fucking tired tonight.

“Salud,” the woman blesses absentmindedly, watching as Vander composes himself enough to make her drink, “you look sick as a dog,” she comments. Vander just continues mixing the drink, replying with a halfhearted, “that’s never stopped me before.”

“Touche.” Luckily, the woman leaves the conversation at that, exchanging the drink for a few gold pieces and making her way across the bar back to the person she’s trying to impress.

“She’s right, you look terrible,” Silco says matter-of-factly, drawing Vander’s attention back to him. His fingers trail along the rim of his now empty glass, his expression smug as he receives an eye-roll in response.

Vander doesn’t have time to reply as another customer approaches the bar, and he internally curses as he turns away from the one person in the bar he actually wants to see right now. His head throbs, the dull ache in his throat turning into a tight, bothersome burning sensation. As he prepares a round of shots, every movement feels slower than his last, his limbs growing heavier as the evening progresses.

Finally, after what feels like hours, there’s a lull in drink orders, and Vander has the opportunity to return to his conversation with Silco. He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, instead saying, “you’ve got a handkerchief, no?”

“I always do,” Silco replies effortlessly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he registers where this is going. Vander extends his hand wordlessly, becoming increasingly frustrated with his nose running like a faucet.

“Use your words,” Silco tuts, though his eyes flick between Vander’s outstretched hand and his nose, reddened and irritated after being berated all day.

“Silco,” Vander huffs huskily, evidently too exhausted to tolerate any sort of teasing, “give it here.”

“That’s no way to treat a customer.”

“Bullshit, you’re not a customer.”

“Hm, then what am I?” Silco asks, enjoying this far more than he should. His hand slips into the inner pocket of his vest, extracting his crimson red handkerchief from its resting place. He keeps it hidden in his lap, waiting for the perfect moment to submit to Vander’s request.

“A brat.”

Vander’s hand remains outstretched, waiting for Silco to drop the dominant act and give in. Fuck me Vander mentally curses as the itch swells in his nose again, forcing his wide nostrils to flare in protest. It’s like Silco was waiting for this moment—the vulnerability of Vander, flushed and slightly out of breath, his hitches almost an invitation.

“I know you always hhhHave one on you. Give it to m-hHHH-me dammit,” Vander’s previously annoyed tone is replaced with one of urgency. Both he and Silco know damn well he can’t hold back for shit.

Silco watches, waiting until the very last second before pressing the handkerchief into Vander’s palm. His fingers brush across the calloused skin of Vander’s hand, which is nearly twice the size of his. Vander clutches the handkerchief, turning on his heel and doubling over as a sneeze tears through him, “hHHHGGSXCHHH’Hh’ugh!”

“Bless you,” Silco purrs once again, silently cursing the countertop separating him from the sick man. He can feel his arousal making itself known, pressing against the tight confines of his pants, “You’ll be making that up to me, you know I don’t share–” he begins, but Vander cuts him off.

“I’ve been pudting on a show for you all nighd. Don’d be so greedy,” he mumbles huskily, the congestion in his voice dulling certain consonants. Vander gives his nose a strangled blow. It’s unsuccessful at first, eliciting a huff of frustration from the man. With both hands holding the handkerchief over his nose, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the next attempt. The second noseblow is much more productive, clearing his airways as best they can be with a cold ravaging his nose.

“That’s better,” Vander acknowledges, tucking the– already soiled– handkerchief into his back pocket and moving to wash his hands again. Silco, having been observing Vander’s every move, shifts to relieve some of the pressure in his pants.

“It’s a shame you have to work,” he comments idly, knowing full well that Vander could’ve called someone in to cover his shift, “I’ve heard a good fuck is quite the cure-all for colds.”

Silco’s bluntness never fails to catch Vander’s attention. People typically shy away from expressing their kinks, especially one as bizarre as sneezing, but Silco treats it as he does anything that can bring him sexual gratification: without shame– though don’t be mistaken, he’s eager to indulge in humiliation when given the chance.

Vander knows exactly what Silco is alluding to, weighing the benefits of closing early or calling someone to take his place. His stubbornness and grit can only last so long, it seems, as he leans heavily against the bartop again.

Grinning as he recognizes the slight defeat in Vander’s expression, Silco presses on, “Would it be so terrible to take a night off? I’d stay, of course, to attend to your needs.”

Vander looks up, his eyes traveling from the smirk on Silco’s face to his slightly unbuttoned top– had his chest been so visible before, so appealing? His view of Silco’s slim waist is blocked by the counter, but he’s almost certain Silco’s hard to some extent; it really only takes a few sneezes to get him going. After all, Vander’s are his favorite.

“Fine,” he agrees stubbornly, glancing at the clock. Typically, The Last Drop would stay open well into the night and through the earliest hours of the morning, but it’s only 11:30 and Vander feels like dead weight. He leans down, searching for the bar-phone he keeps next to the especially expensive liquors. Upon finding it, he dials an employee's number despite the guilt ringing through his mind. He’s not one to give up easily, and he’s certainly given one hell of a fight to make it through this shift, but the promise of a quieter room and Silco’s attention is enough to sway him.

“Jay? I’m sorry to ask, but–,” Vander pauses as his breath hitches, the itch suddenly returning with a vengeance. He holds the receiver as far away as possible, ducking to the side and clamping his other hand over his nose, “hhHHHGDTSCHHH’huew!”

Apparently, Jay could still hear the utter desperation of the expulsion from over the phone– and was left to imagine the mess it made, and trust, it was messy– and is quick to say, “I’ll be there in twenty. Try not to drop dead by then.”

TBC…

as always, any reblogs, tags, and comments are very much appreciated!! i experimented with a different writing style with this fic, so any feedback is appreciated as well :3

#sneeze kink #sneezefucker #sneeze blog #snzblr #sneezefic #sneeze thoughts #snzcane #snz kink #snzfics

53 notes · View notes

dystopianam · 7 months ago

Text

A little summary of how the fandoms of the various neighborhoods of The Sims 2 are like

(I would like to say that all the points listed were written for joking, it is not my intention to offend anyone, every neighborhood/fandom deserves love equally and I use stereotypes just for laughs.)

Pleasantview

You are probably a new player, you have only now discovered that you can also play outside the tutorial.

Your favorite family are the Burbs (for some reason) (Currently I discovered that only the Italian fandom is obsessed with the Burbs for some reason??)

You've been obsessed with Bella Goth and have been following her mystery for years. We are in 2024 and you are still looking for or making videos or posts with the title "I FINALLY DISCOVERED THE TRUTH ABOUT THE MYSTERY OF BELLA GOTH" (Spoiler: you didn't discover anything, your theory is full of nonsensical headcanons but you are convinced that it is canon)

Oooh, silly Don ☺️☺️

Dina and Nina are bad grill but they're so hot 😰😰💦💦 🥵🥵🥵

Talk about Bella 24 hours a day

Broke?? Dreamer?? Pleasant?? Who the f they are? D: (You only know the Goths, Calientes and Lotharios because you've only played The Sims 4 so far)

BRANDINAAAAAA (POWER TO WIDOWS!!!)

The only lore you know is that of Bella Goth.

Strangetown

You're a little more "cultured" as a player. You're here because you're passionate about Bella's story, but now you also love the lore of Strangetown and have enough knowledge about the lore of both neighborhoods.

Cactus and Aliens aesthetic.

Obsessed with PascNerv.

Joking about Loki face and piss jokes about Vidcund H24 (The only thing you talk about is that)

RIPP IS THE ONLY VICTIM, TANK IS A STUPID ASSHOLE!!! RIP RIPP 😭😭😭😭

Vidcund sexy man, his favorite color is yellow because he have a bladder problem.

Fans obsessed with Vidcund to the point that it turns a joke into something worrying with people actually fighting over a bunch of pixels with buck hair.

Loki and Circe do BDSM.

VERONAVILLE

The fandom has a large number of 11 members. Half of them are here just for the Tycutio.

They look indignantly at the PV & ST fandom, with a glass of wine in hand, they feel superior but they never knew anything about Shakespeare's works until now.

Ahaha Mercutio raccoon boy 🦝

Ahah Tybalt angry pussy 🐱

KENT IS OUR LORD

Everyone in Veronaville are LGBT+ except Romeo.

Ahahah Gnomeo!

Wait...what are you telling me it's Romeo & Juliet and not Mercutio & Tybalt??? Didn't Shakespeare write a gay tragedy???

Old men yaoi

Old women yuri

VIOLA EXISTS, FUCK YOU ALL, I HAVE A HUGE LIST OF COMPLETELY INVENTED DETAILS ABOUT HER THAT CERTIFY HER EXISTENCE. SHUT UP. NO ONE CAN ASSUME A GENDER FOR HAMLET. IF HAMLET WANTS TO FEEL LIKE AN AUNT AND NOT AN UNCLE YOU JUST HAVE TO STAY MUTE.

Antonio swears on his restaurant, his family and his cappuccino.

Riverblossom Hills, Desiderata Valley & Belladonna Cove

#the sims 2 #pleasantview #strangetown #veronaville #riverblossom hills #desiderata valley #belladonna cove

55 notes · View notes

unholybacon355 · 9 months ago

Text

Bad Habits

G!P Momo X Jihyo

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: First of all I have to say that this wasn't my idea, I borrowed this for a friend. Thanks Kay for letting me write this with one of the great escenarios you always make, hope I made justice to your idea. Also have to say thanks to another person that help me with some things of my vocabulary, but i think you don't wanna be named here ahahah.

Second. originally this was supossed to be a X You story, but i thinks Momo suits better what I wanted to make here.

With all that being said, I hope you enjoy this.

It was a boring work afternoon in the middle of the week. It was pouring rain outside making the raindrops hit the office windows, which filled the place with the noise of tapping against the glass. Which is why Momo was listening to music with her headphones on, trying to silence the incessant noise of the rain. Maybe that was what made her not notice the incoming message on her phone, or maybe the fact that she was looking at the nearest window trying not to die of boredom due to the repetitiveness of her work that day. Anyway, Momo didn't notice the message until almost an hour later when she got up to get coffee and returned to her post. Just then a new message arrived, making the phone screen light up and catching her attention. The notification had a name that for no reason Momo would have expected to read that day, or any other day in the near future.

“Did you forget that I exist?” “I guess you're too busy to respond.”

Momo stared at the screen of her phone for a few moments without believing what she had just read. Had Jihyo really sent her those messages just like that? It was incredible that after everything she was talking to her as if nothing had happened, as if it were Momo who had simply decided to stop talking to her overnight.

At first she thought about not responding and forgetting about it, letting it go and diving back into her boring work. But curiosity got the better of her than the sudden anger she was feeling. She had always had a special soft spot for Jihyo, even though she knew they weren't real feelings. Rather, it was a carnal issue, something rooted deep inside her that forced her to respond to the call of the younger woman every time she wanted it.

But this time months had passed, and things were very different than they had been before they had that “little” argument. To begin with, Momo had decided to leave behind all those nights and days they spent together making love, in one of the two's apartments or wherever Jihyo had summoned her. They had been wonderful moments filled with pure lust, but they had come to an abrupt end the day Momo found out that Jihyo had a boyfriend.

It was just a few days after Jihyo begin to her new relationship. They had met up with friends they had in common and one of them congratulated Jihyo on finding a boyfriend. For some reason finding out like this didn't sit well with Momo. It wasn't like she felt love for Jihyo, or thought that they could to have something together, that had never been the deal. But it still felt like a betrayal that it wasn't Jihyo herself who told her personally, after all it was Momo who fucked her in the back of her car whenever Jihyo was in need. At least she deserved some honesty.

The argument that came when the two of them could finally be alone was not pleasant at all. After all, they were never a real couple, so Momo had no right to claim anything. From the beginning it had been something purely carnal, something to satisfy their intimate needs, and Jihyo emphasized very clearly that Momo was always aware of that. In any case, it hurt the Japanese woman not to have found out sooner, it even made her feel a little used. Well, a dating relationship doesn't happen overnight, and the two of them had made love a couple of times that same week. So clearly things weren't adding up for Momo.

Almost five months had passed since that argument, and in all that time they had not spoken. Jihyo's messages had been the first contact they had since then, which is why they took Momo by surprise. It was something that she totally didn't expect to happen that week, much less in that blatant way. Just as if nothing had happened, as if it were Momo's fault that they hadn't been in contact in all this time.

Again she thought about deleting the messages and continuing with her chores, but she found herself sliding her fingers across the screen to type in return.

“I was immersed in work, I didn't see your message.”

Which was true, but it still felt like a cheap excuse. Although she didn't need to excuse herself anyway, if Jihyo had contacted her out of the blue she was surely going to wait for a response no matter what it took. But the most curious thing about that message was that Momo had decided to play the same game as her “friend” by acting as if nothing had happened. As if they had only gone a weekend without speaking, and not almost five full months.

Momo put the phone down on the desk and tried to refocus on reviewing the reports she had received and appeared on her computer screen. When she realized that she had spent the last five minutes reading the same paragraph over and over without understanding anything at all, she gave up. She stopped resisting and checked her phone for a new message, but found nothing. Hadn't Jihyo seen her response? No, if she had spoke first it was sure she had seen it. Momo unlocked the device and verified that Jihyo had indeed read her message. Very typical of her to leave her waiting and force Momo to send another message, but not this time. Once again she left her phone on the desk and tried to get back to work.

Half an hour later Momo had only managed to advance one page in the report, of which she was not sure if she had understood a single word. She got up and went to get more coffee, trying to get as far away from her phone as possible. Trying her best not to send another message when she knew very well that Jihyo was on the other end of the line waiting for it. But Momo felt that inexplicable weakness for Jihyo, that weakness that forced her to write again.

“Looks like I'm not the only one busy at work.”

Momo hated that she had given in so easily, but there was nothing more she could do to resist. What she could do was go get more coffee once and for all, but before she could even lock the phone a new message appeared on the screen. Indeed Jihyo had been waiting patiently for another response from Momo.

“Actually I'm at home, I've taken a few days off.”

Now it was more evident than ever that Jihyo was up to something, it couldn't be that she just chose that moment to repair their friendship. Had she broken up with her boyfriend and needed a fling to get over him? Or was that what Momo wanted to be happening?

"All good? You’re not sick, right?”

A stupid question, because if that were the case Momo would probably be the last person Jihyo would turn to. She knew that very well.

“No, I just needed to do some things. But I solved them sooner than expected and now I have a couple of days free.”

What was Jihyo's game? She was usually much, much, more direct when she wanted sex. But it couldn't be anything more, the two of them had never really been such good friends. They were fucking all the time, that was true, but their relationship went little further than that. Outings to eat or have coffee alone were rare, They never told their problems or asked each other's opinions on something important. So why was Jihyo taking so long to ask the question?

“Your boyfriend is lucky because can have you more time for him these days.”

A pretty bold move on Momo's side, but if Jihyo wasn't going to do something she would do it first. Mentioning her boyfriend was Momo's little revenge for all that time without speaking to each other.

“Quite a bit, but Sungbin is out of town on a work travel.” “By the way, is anyone lucky enough to be your boyfriend or girlfriend?”

The messages arrived a few seconds apart, and the truth was that Momo didn't expect to receive that question as an answer. She had tried to make a risky move and Jihyo had won once again.

“Work keeps me too busy to think about that. I got promoted so now I have to work even harder.”

It was a sad reality, but it was the pure truth. Work consumed almost all of Momo's free time, so she didn't have the luxury of meeting anyone new. Much less try to start a romantic relationship with someone.

“That's a shame, considering how well you fuck. You should at least get a cute assistant to give you a head under your desk.”

There was. Finally Jihyo had tired of detours and had taken the first step towards what had always connected them most strongly. Always so direct, so to the point when she wanted something. A little bossy and severe for the taste of many, but Momo liked that. At least this way things were clear and not had confusions.

“That would be quite inappropriate… My office has glass walls, so everyone could see.”

A real shame because that took away a lot of Momo's privacy, but after all she wasn't in a position high enough to have a private office. There were also rumors that in the past they had caught someone doing just what Jihyo proposed, and that was the reason why the offices were not private now. Although the glass on the walls was fogged, you could still see clearly enough what was happening inside. But that was something Jihyo didn't need to know.

“The public didn't seem to matter to you when I was the one giving you head in the university library. Do you remember how much fun we used to have together?”

How could she forget all those times when Jihyo had simply disappeared under the library table to give her a blowjob? Momo had always had a hard time staying silent and pretending to continue studying for an exam when she had Jihyo between her legs giving a masterclass on how to suck a cock. On more than one occasion they had missed a sound that almost gave them away, but luckily no one ever discovered them. Not in the university library, not in the bathrooms, not behind the baseball team's locker room, or in any other place where they had carried out their obscenities.

“I get hard just remembering it.”

Momo sent that message without even thinking about it, without stopping to reflect that once again she had fallen into Jihyo's clutches without realizing it.

“Are you hard? I can see?"

The phone almost slipped out of her hands when she read that message. Not even in the wildest of her fantasies she expect such a bold move from Jihyo. Which it pained her to admit had been many during all that time that they had not spoken to each other.

“Jihyo, we shouldn't. You have a boyfriend."

Momo hoped that the mention of Sungbin could make Jihyo back off on her intentions, but since she had initiated this conversation she didn't expect to actually achieve it.

“It can't hurt him if he doesn't find out. Or do you need more motivation besides your memory?”

The real surprise of the afternoon came for Momo in the form of two photographs that arrived immediately after Jihyo's last message. In the images Jihyo could be see standing in front of the mirror in her room, a mirror that Momo remembered very well because many times they had done perverted things in front of it. The frame showed the reflection of Jihyo's room and in the center of the photos the woman posing only in her underwear. A simple but comfortable black outfit, with white details on the panties, that was all that covered Jihyo's humanity.

Momo swallowed heavily, her mouth suddenly dry. She needed another cup of coffee more than ever, so she left the phone on the desk and went to fill out her mug. As if getting away from her phone would magically make Jihyo's messages disappear. But when she came back they were still there, as real as they could be.

Momo picked up the phone and started typing a message, but deleted it before sending it. No, she couldn't say that now. She thought for a few seconds and wrote again.

“Wooow!! You look as great as ever.”

Momo was going to try to avoid the inevitable for as long as necessary, before finally letting herself be carried away by the lust that Jihyo awakened in her. But the truth is that she was failing miserably in this pathetic attempt to hide the fact that her cock had already woken up because of those photos.

“You can come take a closer look. You know where I live."

Jihyo was definitely serious about this. Which implied that she was actively looking for Momo to be cheat on her boyfriend. A certainly tempting offer, but one that did not completely convince the Japanese woman.

“Jihyo, we shouldn't do that to Sungbing.”

It was amazing that Momo was being the voice of reason here, but she really didn't want to be used as a toy and then abandoned again. It didn't sit well with her to be caught in the middle of some strange game between the couple, so she had to analyze her options very carefully.

“Forget about him, I already told you he left the city.” “The one I miss fucking is you. Sungbing doesn't do it as well as you. He cannot satisfy me.”

Jihyo certainly had a pretty big sexual appetite, and because Momo easily gave in to all her requests, she had always been her favorite companion. That for years, since they met at college, until a few months ago when Jihyo began her relationship with Sungbing. That had been the end of that non-verbal agreement in which they both turned to each other when they needed pleasure and their own touches were not enough.

But then that was what it was about, Jihyo needed her once again to satisfy her needs since her boyfriend was not capable of doing so. Which Momo had to admit made her a little proud, it boosted her ego that even though her friend was in a stable relationship she still had to turn to her for such matters. Although that also meant that Jihyo didn't value their friendship enough to try to repair things for any other reason, she only did it because she found herself in need of a good fling. In short, Jihyo was more interested in Momo's cock and the way she used it than Momo herself.

“We can’t anymore.”

Momo took as long as she could to write that message, always doubting whether she would send it or not. In the end she decided to do it and put her phone aside, but before she was even able to close the chat new photos appeared on the screen. Jihyo was clearly expecting a response like that and had a plan to fight back, because there was no way she would have taken those photos so quickly after reading Momo's message.

In the new images Jihyo was standing in the same place, in front of the mirror in her room, except now the poses were different. That in addition to the fact that her underwear could no longer be seen anywhere, but that, far from meaning that she had put on more clothes, was quite the opposite. Now Jihyo was completely naked, standing in front of the mirror as if she was showing off her outfit. But of course, there were no clothes to show. Just her humanity completely naked, just her and nothing else.

Momo couldn't stop looking at Jihyo's angelic face, but her friend's large breasts topped with brown nipples distracted her greatly. Her mouth was watering as her throat was dry, almost as if her own body was laughing at her. Memories of all those times she had played with those perfect breasts passed through her mind. The many occasions in which she had had them in her mouth and had felt firsthand how Jihyo's nipples hardened.

“I'll be there in half an hour.”

It was clear that after seeing those photos Momo couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't keep fooling herself with this false resistance towards Jihyo. To hell with everything, she herself was very aware of that carnal weakness she felt for Jihyo that forced her to abandon everything when the other one called her to fuck.

"I'll wait for you in bed. Use your keys.”

Momo quickly grabbed her things and left her office, telling her subordinates that something personal had come up and that she would take the rest of the afternoon off. Then she left, but not before making a quick stop in the bathroom, where she took the photo Jihyo had asked about earlier. A pretty decent snapshot of her cock as hard as it could be right now, in the photo it could almost be seen how Momo's shaft was throbbing with anticipation. But she din’t sent it, not yet.

Momo waited until she got into her Uber to send the photo to Jihyo, and as expected she sent her a new photo. This time Jihyo was lying on her bed, as she had said she would wait, with her legs raised, which is why you could clearly see her most private parts.

“I want to see how you touch yourself for me.”

Jihyo had really decided to torture Momo that day.

“I can't, I'm already on my way to your house.”

It was laughable to think that Momo would give in to that request, but then why was she putting her hand to her crotch? Oh, maybe it was because Jihyo had counterattacked with the most explicit image yet. The woman was still in bed, except now she had one hand resting on her head and her legs were open. The photo had been taken from her crotch, so Jihyo's private parts could now be seen in even greater detail. It was the definitive attack that Momo needed to be completely defeated, since the duality of Jihyo's serene and sweet expression contrasted greatly with the obscene nature of the photo. Momo was melting and was seriously thinking about sneakily stroking her cock over her clothes, but there was something else in the photo that made her reconsider.

She hadn't noticed it in the previous photo, since Jihyo's legs covered them, but on the wall behind the woman there were hanging several photos of her and her boyfriend. The sudden memory that Momo was on her way to the apartment that Jihyo shared with Sungbing, precisely to fuck her friend while her boyfriend was away, did not sit well with Momo’s erection. She could almost lose her sanity when it came to making love with Jihyo, but that didn't take away the discomfort she felt about cheating on Sungbing. Which is why she decided to put away her phone and wait to be face to face with her friend to settle this carnal matter.

Fifteen minutes after seeing that last photo, and ignoring all the messages she knew Jihyo had sent her, Momo was in front of the door of his friend's apartment. Firmly holding the key that would open that lock, as if trying to think one last time if this was a good idea. Of course it wasn't, but Momo was free to deceive herself as much as she wanted.

She put the key in the lock, a key that was incredible that she still held. Momo had thought many times during these five months about throwing it in the trash or getting rid of it in some other way, but she always ended up giving up. It was ridiculous how she even continued to carry it in the bunch of keys that belonged to her own apartment, as if she still harbored the secret hope of needing that key again someday. As if always carrying it with her was insurance, if indeed happened what was happening now, but that didn't matter anymore. For now Momo just sighed and entered the apartment.

Few things had changed in the room since the last time she was there, it remained practically the same. Except for a few additions that revealed that Sungbing now lived there, Momo was greeted by the same apartment she had been in a million times before. That apartment that belonged to someone who was not her partner, nor did either of them want it to be that way, but to which she still kept the key so she could sneak out when necessary.

Momo left her bag and keys on the small table near the entrance, hung her jacket in the place designated for it, and getting on the sleeves of her blouse headed to the room where she knew Jihyo was waiting for her. It wasn't very wide, like the rest of the apartment, but even so, a double bed could fit perfectly in the place, leaving enough space on the sides. The last time Momo had been in that room the bed was smaller, that was perhaps the most noticeable change she could see. Oh! of course, the bed and the many photos of the happy couple that were hanging on the walls. There was an entire section of a wall dedicated to the happy times they had together in these five months, which left a bitter taste in Momo as it reminded her once again of what she was doing here. She was simply as a lover, as nothing more than an adventure.

Jihyo was lying on the wide bed, waiting patiently with her legs spread like appeared in the last photograph, and with that angelic expression on her face. That expression that would never make you imagine that she had just called her fuck friend to cheat on her boyfriend. Jihyo knew that she didn't have to do anything more than lay there looking at her to activate in Momo that animal hunger she felt for her, the mere sight of the woman as she came into the world was already enough to drive Momo crazy. Especially after so long of being deprived of that beautiful image.

"You came."

"You called me."

A simple exchange of words that might seem banal, but they clearly showed that Momo was there because she had been summoned. Jihyo's messages had made her abandon everything in her routine day, and break into the couple's apartment.

After taking off her shoes, Momo walked on all fours on the bed, quickly reaching Jihyo's body and climbing on top of her. The scarf that the older girl was wearing tied around her neck like a tie tickled Jihyo as Momo left delicate kisses on her skin. Starting from Jihyo's belly and ascending slowly and ceremoniously until she reached her neck, where she sucked right at the point where she knew it drove the woman beneath her crazy. But she separated her lips from the tanned skin almost instantly, Jihyo's body had never been hers, and never would be, to mark and leave traces of love.

In situations like this, words were unnecessary between the two of them. They had spent so much time having those types of furtive encounters, satisfying each other's needs, that they knew each other and complemented each other very well. So it was not necessary to verbalize what they wanted, they simply needed a gesture or a caress to make themselves understood. Which is why when Momo felt Jihyo's fingers playing with the hairs on the back of her neck, she understood perfectly what she wanted. With a long lick she ran from her collarbone to behind Jihyo's right ear, another of her sensitive spots, earning a shiver and a muffled moan from Jihyo.

Also without saying anything, Jihyo fumbled for the zipper of Momo's pants and put her hand inside, playing with the Japanese woman's semi-erect penis while she continued giving hickeys on her neck. Even through the fabric of the boxers, Momo could perfectly feel the gentle touch on her member, how Jihyo's expert fingers caressed the right places. In the same way that Momo left kisses and hickeys where she knew they gave Jihyo the most pleasure, the latter caressed and squeezed where she knew Momo was most sensitive.

It was all simply a game to see who would give in to desperation first, to see who would be the first to blindly give in to pleasure. A game in which Momo lost most of the time because she was not able to endure Jihyo's caresses for long without practically melting. But at least this time the Japanese would try to make things different, she couldn't just fall at Jihyo's feet just like that after all this time. In that sense it was more a battle against herself than against Jihyo.

The kisses she was placing on the youngest's jaw gave Momo a small advantage, now she could practically feel the woman's wetness on the knee she had pressed against her center. Even through her slack pants she was able to perceive Jihyo's slippery moisture staining the garment.

As if it were confirmation, Jihyo pressed Momo's head pushing her away of her jaws and guiding it towards her crotch. She needed her to use her mouth somewhere else and she wasn't willing to wait.

With a smile on her lips, Momo gave a long, slow lick on Jihyo's slit, savoring the appetizing delicacy that had been denied her for such a long period of time. The small shiver that ran through the woman's body told her how needy she was for her touch, and the moans that followed confirmed that she was doing it right. With an expertise that had been given to her by all these years of pleasing Jihyo, Momo licked right where she had to, contoured the edges of her petals the way she knew she liked, and wrapped her tongue around her clit the way she knew drove Jihyo crazy.

After a few minutes of this Jihyo had the first orgasm of the afternoon, or at least what they both hoped would be the first of many. Between spasms and pressing Momo's head against her crotch, she climaxed in a way that she apparently had not achieved in these five months. All these years had made Momo an expert at pleasuring her, or maybe after all this time it was she who couldn't be satisfied any other way than how Momo did it. That was a dangerous idea that Jihyo didn't want to delve into right now, and maybe never.

“I need you out of your clothes.” More than a suggestion, it was an order to try to gain some control over the situation again. Anyway, Momo obeyed, as she always did.

The Japanese woman first got rid of the scarf tied around her neck, then continued with the blouse that was thrown to the side, and finally took off her bra, revealing her large breasts. Jihyo thought that somehow she looked imposing kneeling on the bed, wearing only her pants and looking at her with that voracious but contained hunger that her eyes reflected right now. Her black hair fell in cascades of strands over her shoulders, framing her torso, hiding a little more of her semi-nudity. Despite the cold of the room, Momo's skin seemed to radiate a heat that enveloped her completely, anticipation and lust protecting her from the winter weather.

Jihyo wanted to touch Momo's toned abs, caress them and run her fingers over them. She wanted to ride the Japanese woman's abdomen and rub against her muscles. Ride her and feel each of the reliefs of her powerful abdomen against her center until the pleasure made her explode, as she had done many times before. But she also had the overwhelming need to feel Momo's meat inside her, so she resisted her base impulses and took a condom from the nightstand while the Japanese woman it ended to undress

Now Momo's member stood in full in front of Jihyo, powerful and full of blood just the way she liked it. The Korean, who was now on all fours, placed a chaste kiss on the tip that was already dripping in anticipation. After that, she put the open condom on her lips and without using her hands gobbled Momo's penis completely, sheathing it in the process in the condom. No gagging, no nausea reflexes, no complications, she simply swallowed the member until she felt the latex pressing against her throat, until her nose touched Momo's pelvis. And without further ado, after moving the muscles of her throat to massage the member in her mouth, she withdrew and lay down as she was when Momo arrived to the room.

The Japanese girl didn't need a written invitation to finally do what she had come here to do, so she leaned over Jihyo and took her member in her hand guided it towards the warm center of the korean. With a slow but uninterrupted movement the folds finally gave way, giving way to the thick member that desecrated such a delicate temple of pleasure.

Jihyo gasped, adjusting to Momo's size, which earned her a proud giggle from the Japanese woman, a laugh that was quickly silenced by a passionate kiss. Jihyo could feel her own essence on Momo's lips but she didn't care, it wasn't the first time she had done something like that. Over time she had learned that the least she could do to reward the Japanese woman after she used her mouth to give her pleasure was to give her a kiss. So she was completely used to testing herself like that.

The kiss they shared was passionate and somewhat hungry, the fire ran through their bodies and forced them to gasp into each other's mouths while they continued moving their lips at a frenetic pace. Jihyo's hands burned on Momo's butt as the latter began to move her hips.

More gasps escaped Jihyo as she felt Momo pull out of her almost completely and back in all at once. Filling her and forcing her walls to adapt to the length and diameter of a member they knew very well.

There was no love in the act they were performing, they both knew it, but there was a lot of lust. A lot of desire for another's body, and that incessant hunger for more and more pleasure. Hunger that was very easy to confuse with love. Hunger that made Jihyo cross her legs behind Momo, as if trying to prevent her from going somewhere even though she knew very well that the Japanese would never abandon her in the middle of the act.

Even though Momo was constantly exercising, right now her abs were burning because of the constant swinging of her hips. But she loved feeling how Jihyo's body trembled with each of her thrusts, feeling how the Korean woman's breasts bounced and rubbed against her own, making her nipples harden in the process. Her muscles ached, yes, but the reward for that little pain was so great that it made it a minuscule price to pay.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the small room mixing with the gasps and moans of both women, in a cacophony of lust and unparalleled pleasure that showed how committed they were to this. Oh, they were going to take this little adventure as far as they could, they would make it last as long as it was in their power because they were both hungry for each other in a way they had never felt before. Practically five months without touching each other left them starving for the pleasure that only they knew how to give each other. Hadn't it been Jihyo herself who had said that her boyfriend didn't satisfy her like Momo? For her part, the Japanese woman had not been able to find real pleasure in any of the few lovers she had had during this time, so much so that she had actually stopped trying after the second or third failed encounter.

But despite all that hunger and weakness they felt for each other, they both knew that there was no love there. It was just carnal pleasure and a physics codependency on the other that could be interpreted as something else, but that they knew was not. It was clear that they were not compatible as a couple, perhaps not even as friends, but in all these years they had come to explore each other's bodies so much that they already knew all the tricks and secrets they hid. They had learned where to caress, how to rub, or where to kiss to maximize each other's pleasure and fully fulfill their part of a silent treatment that they never really talked about.

They had met in their second year of university through friends they had in common and had almost instantly hated each other. But as if it were a bad romance story, after getting drunk and half-fighting on a night of partying, they ended up locked in a bathroom fucking as if their lives depended on it. That was the first time and after that night things between them were fixed, now they were friends with benefits. But they never really talked about it, never a word was said about their situation or what their role was in each other's lives. They simply had sex when one of them made the call, or both were so needy that they couldn't wait any longer. And so the days passed between furtive encounters and long nights of pleasure, days that quickly turned into years. It also didn't help that the only real partner any of them had had in all this time was Sungbing, so it was the first time they found themselves in that situation. Something that they did not resolve well at all.

And now they were here. Jihyo with her legs crossed behind Momo who put all her effort into penetrating her in a way that made her moan in a special voice tone. Once again having sex without having talked about their relationship or what this meeting meant for both of them. But what difference did that make when the pleasure threatened to fry their brains and simply make them addicted to each other's bodies.

“Let me do some of the work.” Jihyo said when Momo was finally forced to stop to rest. Of course the Korean was not going to let her stop cold at a moment like that, so Momo lay on her back on the bed and Jihyo faced her. The korean guided Momo's penis towards her own center, and descending quickly, she impaled herself on the Japanese woman's member. This time an actual moan left her mouth as the entire length was inside her soaked crotch.

Now it was Jihyo who was in charge of the movement, while the Japanese woman played with her breasts and reached out to kiss her or lick her neck, the Korean woman rode with great skill. Jihyo had her hands on Momo's worked abs, supporting all her weight on them; which allowed her to move without resistance and put Momo's meat as deep inside her as it had not been in a long time.

While Momo's moans were more like panting, sometimes even sounding like a dog trying to catch its breath, Jihyo's moans on the other hand were powerful. Right now the Korean was praying that the walls would contain the sounds she made, because if someone filed a noise complaint against her then Sungbing would find out about her little affair. But even by biting her lip she was not able to silence the moans that came out of her mouth, hoarse and deep noises produced in the depths of her lungs. Same sounds that turned into a high-pitched moan as Jihyo reached her second climax of the afternoon. Luckily for them, the relentless weather helped mask what was happening in there from the neighbors.

Outside the rain was hitting the window, and inside Jihyo was pouring her wetness on Momo's member. Squeezing Momo's abs with all the strength she had, Jihyo held herself upright as the spasms of orgasm coursed through her entire body. She knew she had probably marked her nails on the Japanese woman's belly, but she didn't care about that. Unlike Jihyo, the older woman had no need to hide the marks of her pleasure.

When she had finally calmed down enough, Jihyo fell on top of her friend, who received her with a hug and sweet caresses on her hair. The way Momo was kissing Jihyo's shoulder, and doing her best to comfort her, anyone would have thought they were a happy couple. Nothing further from reality. While the Korean had her face hidden in Momo's neck, the latter caressed her hair and back; helping her catch her breath after her orgasm.

“I can still feel inside me how hard you are.” Jihyo said, placing small kisses directly on Momo's lips. A gesture perhaps too romantic for their situation.

Momo, for her part, smiled, wrinkling her nose like she did when she was happier. “You can't blame me, I haven't cum yet.” Before continuing speaking she captured Jihyo's lips in a kiss that lasted longer than it should. "Want-"

“I need you to finish inside… With the condom on.” If there was one thing Jihyo didn't need right now it was a baby, much less one from Momo. And given the time she had spent without connecting with her friend, she didn't want Momo's cock anywhere else right now that would allow her to cum without using the latex barrier.

Squeezing Jihyo's buttocks and kissing her jaw again she whispered in an unnecessarily low tone. “In that case I want you on all fours, like the obedient pet that you are.” The cases where Momo showed such dominance were rare, especially with Jihyo, but she knew that on this occasion she could afford it. And as she predicted, she could feel how the Korean woman's center squeezed her shaft once more in anticipation, she could have sworn that she even felt Jihyo getting wet again because of those words.

Jihyo obediently got off Momo, but not before moaning when she felt the Japanese woman's member come out of her, she hated feeling this empty. She got on her knees and leaning her weight on her chest used both hands to spread her buttocks, giving Momo a perfect view of the feast in front of her. Again, a strange case where Jihyo was carried away by Momo's demands. But the effect that whisper had had on her was inexplicable. Normally Jihyo was the one who took the lead, she herself had been the one who had asked to be fucked that way, but when Momo got like this a weakness awoke in her that she tried to hide at all costs and always failed miserably to do so.

The Japanese woman had to resist the urge to devour her friend's back entrance, she would have time for that later, and instead she concentrated on penetrating her again because she knew that Jihyo didn't like spending a lot of time without her shaft inside her. A single firm thrust was enough to have Jihyo moaning again.

The room quickly filled again with the obscene noises that both women were making. Momo's hips slapping against Jihyo's buttocks made a clapping noise that made it seem like an invisible audience was applauding their illicit act. That added to Jihyo's moans and Momo's grunts from the effort completed a symphony that was the perfect soundtrack for that situation. Something that contrasted greatly with the sound of the rain lashing the window.

After a few minutes the Japanese woman's muscles were burning again, but again she ignored the sensation and continued with the pleasant task of fucking Jihyo. Despite it being a cold afternoon due to the rain, sweat accumulated on her forehead; making clear the effort she was making. Jihyo's back was also beaded with small pearls of sweat, even though the time she had been moving had been less. But the heat they both radiated made them feel as if they were on a sweltering summer afternoon.

Now the Korean woman was only limited to moaning and clutching the sheets, while her face very clearly expressed the pleasure she was feeling. Jihyo found Momo's physical stamina admirable when they were in that position, or in any position where the Japanese woman was the one who had to make the most effort. They were the moments when the results of all those hours in the gym were visible, which were partly precisely to be able to gain resistance to please Jihyo. Who also exercised a lot, but in this position that only served to make her ass look rounder and more appetizing. Still Momo loved the sight of Jihyo's toned muscles, well defined but still soft enough to see them quiver with each of her thrusts.

It was curious how Jihyo's boyfriend also worked out a lot, much more than the two women combined, but it was still Momo who had the stamina to make her cum as many times as necessary. It was Momo who onslaught her with just enough force to make her buttocks bounce the way she liked and hit that sweet point that maximized her pleasure. At the end of the day it was only the Japanese woman who knew all the secrets of Jihyo's body.

Momo's chest was moving not only because of her thrusts, but also because of how agitated she was breathing. A small cloud of mist came out of her mouth every time she exhaled because the room was certainly cold, but still neither of them were able to feel it. How could they do it when pleasure ran through their bodies from top to bottom, and lust oozed from their pores. No, at times like this they forgot everything. The world around them disappeared and they only had eyes for each other. They were just two bodies dancing in an infinite mating ritual, as if the pleasure clouded their senses completely and enveloped them in a spiral of fire.

For Momo, seeing Jihyo reduced to a bundle of moans and tremors as a result of her thrusts was a separate satisfaction; it added something extra to the pleasure she already felt simply by fucking her. It was something like an extra reward because deep down, not so deep down really, they both knew that Momo was the only one capable of achieving that. They both knew that with her it was real and not something fake because in none of their encounters during all these years had Jihyo had to fake an orgasm. The countless moisture stains that had accumulated on Momo's clothes were reliable proof of that.

Jihyo's almost hoarse moans had given way to higher-pitched ones, confirming that she was once again close to the much-prized climax. Little by little the moans had risen to such a high pitch that normally she had to repress, but on occasions like these, when they were completely alone, she allowed herself not to. If there was no one here who could hear them, no one other than the neighbors perhaps, there was no point in trying to control her moans.

For her part, Momo could swear that she felt how her friend's insides were squeezing her more than before, how she was contracting around her in anticipation of another orgasm. An orgasm that took almost no time to arrive, but that didn't stop Momo from continuing to move her hips. If Jihyo missed being fucked by the Japanese girl so much, then that was what she was going to have. Between the spasms and contractions of Jihyo's body, between her high-pitched moans and heavy breathing, Momo continued to thrust, taking the Korean to a new threshold of pleasure. Momo was literally fucking Jihyo through her orgasm, and the only thing the latter could do was squeeze the sheets tighter, to the point that her knuckles turned white, and continue moaning uncontrollably.

The Japanese woman did not stop until she herself was on the verge of orgasm, then with one last strong thrust she buried her entire length inside Jihyo, and remained still holding onto her hips while she spilled her load inside the condom. Despite the latex barrier Jihyo could feel that familiar warmth flooding inside her, pressing against her walls as more and more of the thick fluid gushed out of Momo's shaft. The sheer sensation of being filled but at the same time not made her practically drip her own fluids onto the bed.

It was incredible how despite having had a third orgasm just a few moments ago, Momo was revolutionizing her hormones so much that Jihyo was ready to continue. Whether the Japanese woman wanted to continue pounding her, using her fingers or her mouth, or if Jihyo regained control and mounted her again, or even if Momo decided to use a toy to get another orgasm out of her. In any of those cases Jihyo was willing to continue with this illicit wrongful act in order to fill the void that these five months without fucking Momo had meant.

But the Japanese woman was tired, and although Jihyo didn't recognize it, so was she, so when her breathing calmed down a little, Momo withdrew from inside the Korean woman and fell back on the bed. For her part, Jihyo suppressed a small moan as she felt empty again, and feeling how her legs were flanking her, she also let herself fall onto the wrinkled sheets.

There they were both on the bed, one on her back and the other lying on her stomach. One with the member still hard and with the fluids staining her abdomen, and the other with her legs separated because the strong thrusts had left her with difficulty to move her lower extremities. Both in a cold room, where their breath formed mist, and the only thing that radiated heat was their bodies fueled by lust. Both in the room that Jihyo shared with her boyfriend, a boyfriend who of course was not Momo.

#twice #twice fanfic #momo smut #twice smut #jihyo smut #mohyo #kpop fanfic #mohyo smut #fanfic

107 notes · View notes

terranometry · 6 days ago

Text

Tag Game: Get To Know Your Mutuals <3

Thank you for tagging me @mister-peregrine!!!! number one partner in insanity 🥺🫶

What’s the origin of your blog title?

My original blog name was extraterramisu, which was a joke about my initials (e.t.) and tiramisu cause yum. But I needed to change it for ✨reasons✨and wanted to keep the Terra part since that’s what I go by online :) So another pun was born!!! (I do hate math tho)

OTP(s) + Shipname:

Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr (Cherik) Charles Xavier/Logan Howlett (Xavierine) Batman/Joker (Batjokes) ESPECIALLY nolanverse Ennis Del Mar/Jack Twist + many many more but these are my ride or die babygirls forever 😤😈

Favourite Colour:

PURPLE I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!

Favourite Game:

Jedi Fallen Order. Cal Kestis my POOKIE my BABY

Song Stuck in Your Head:

Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce!!!! No this isn’t because I think about X-Men Apocalypse constantly. Why would you think that. Shut up.

Weirdest Habit/Trait?

Whenever I’m trying to plan out a project or work on a problem, I talk out loud to myself about it like I’m an actor being interviewed on a press tour. It’s so fun you should try it 🫵

Hobbies:

Reading (not just fanfic i swear), watching movies, drawing/painting, playing piano, sewing, hikes, yapping with my pals about my obsessions

If you work, what’s your profession?

I work in my university library, and before that I’ve worked as a restaurant host/server. (My Fellow Americans if you don’t believe in tipping you better believe in it now)

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically?

I’d love to be a professional oil painter or comic artist, but art is my passion so I don’t know that I’d want to do that professionally :,) I think a career in academia might be interesting, I’d love to study the intersection of civil rights, social activism, and fandom in depth. Work in translation would also be interesting, my goal is to learn five languages in the next 5 years!

Something you’re good at:

Art ahahah but fr I pick up grammar very quickly when learning languages so that’s why I enjoy learning them. I’m also good at playing mediator but that isn’t always fun….

Something you’re bad at:

I’m a terrible procrastinator T_T and struggle with being a people pleaser…

Something you love:

Thunderstorms :) My family :) Charles Francis Xavier :)))))

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

The silly xmen aus that haunt my dreams and google docs folder; any of my obsessions (especially Breaking Bad/Star Wars/LOTR) love books i read; African American history; sewing!!!!

Something you hate:

The way people are taught to hate each other :( Also cottage cheese :(((

Something you collect:

Books count right? I LOVE BOOKS I want a big library one day. Or a little house filled wall to wall with books

Something you forget:

My watch in the morning 😭 I’m just a little old man I need my watch

What’s your love language:

Acts of service

Favourite movie/show:

My fav movie is The Dark Knight and fav show is Breaking Bad :( i’m just a guy ok :(((( i swear my tastes are varied and rich i swear

Favourite food:

Anything my mom cooks she’s the goddess of the kitchen and I am a humble acolyte

Favourite animal:

Mice—not when they’re in my house though LOL I was just very mousy as a lil kid, honestly I still am (also I’m not a furry but I do have a mouse fursona I’m quite fond of—but anyways)

What were you like as a child?

Quiet people pleaser and had like one friend.

Favourite subject at school:

Literature :D or history

What’s your best character trait?

I’m friendly to everybody

What’s your worst character trait?

I’m friendly to everybody

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

top surgery magic wand pls

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

Wanna go Magneto on Nixon 😇

AGAIN THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME POOKIE!!!!!!!

tagging @theofficialinternetloner <3

#tag game #terra’s drabbles #terra’s moots

8 notes · View notes

malarkgirlypop · 9 months ago

Text

Easy Men Pranksters

How easy company men prank

Richard Winters:

I feel like he would do the most unnoticeable prank, like move an item one inch to the side. I'm sure he would think it was funny, he would've seen someone do it on facebook reels lmao. He tries it on Nix, who does not notice. But every time Nix walks into the room, Dick has a good chuckle to himself, knowing what he did.

Lewis Nixon:

He would throw a party and say he put out spiked punch. Turns out is wasn't spiked punch, just normal juice and fruit. He just wanted to weed out the fake bitches who pretend to get drunk. But that's not the true reason he did the prank. No way is he sharing his collection of alcohol, if you want to get drunk BYO.

Harry Welsh:

I think he would try to prank Lew and Dick. When they are hanging out without him, he calls the house and asks if the fridge is running. But jokes on him, he didn't turn off caller ID. "Harry, please stop calling the house. If you want to come over, just come over." Tries to pretend it wasn't him that called. He tried to convince Kitty to prank call the house so he doesn't look suspicious, but again forgot to turn off caller ID and it's his phone she has.

Ronald Speirs:

Leaves a horse head in the persons bed. Doesn't know the difference between a death threat and a prank.

"You should've seen his face."

"Speirs he had a heart attack."

"Yeah, ahaha, classic."

Please don't let this man prank.

Carwood Lipton:

The most harmless prankster. Like you don't get the prank. He has to explain it.

"Come over to the window and look at all these deer!"

"Where?"

"Got you!!"

"What?"

"You've been punked son!"

"I'm confused."

"There were never deer!!"

Oh Lip no. That's so bad. BOOOOO ahahah.

George Luz:

Loves getting pranked more than pranking. But he always is trying to get people to prank him, so he never get tricked. 100% would sneak into your house and replace all of your family photos with just pictures of himself. He has especially gone to JCpenney to get those hilarious awkward family photos, but it's all just him duplicated. It's a family of Luz's!

Joe Toye:

He's a mean prankster. One of those guys who has fake bugs and insects and tricks you into looking at what's in his hands. Also will hide around the house in the dark just to scare you. You're so used to it, that when you come home you have to scope out each room, only to find he actually went out for a drink and you're home alone. You call him and tell him what you have just done for the past hour and he thinks it's the funniest thing he has ever heard. Will definitely brag about it to the boys.

Bill Guarnere:

Classic prankster. Cling wrap on the toilet, cling wrap in the door way, putting everything in jello, wrapping the room in tinfoil. Causes the most mayhem and the biggest clean ups. He spends more time on the prank than the reaction is worth. Spent a whole night putting post it notes on your car, only to find out it was the neighbours and now they are pissed.

Joe Liebgott:

100% buy you those fake lotto tickets and let you believe it for the longest time. He would get Web countless times with it. Every time the man falls for it and Lieb just finds it so funny. He let's Web call all of his family members every time he "wins". It happens so often that the family members on the phone know it's a prank and try to explain it to him.

David Webster:

None of his pranks have ever been successful. OR when he does pull pranks he accidentally gets himself. He does the cling wrap on the toilet, forgets about it, pees all over the ground. Fills a room with water cups, forgets about it and walks into said room and tips over all of the cups. Like this man just can't win. Poor guy.

Buck Compton:

The only prank he does in the warm bucket prank. He is convinced it will work every time. It never does. He literally does tests, he's so invested on getting it to work. It's basically become an experiment for him. He tries out different water temps, different vessels he puts the water in, how deep he puts the hand in the water. He has a little notebooks of each time he has tried the prank and the method he used.

Eugene Roe:

He's a cute prankster. He opens two boxes of cereal and switches the bags. So you think you are getting lucky charms, but instead you get frosted flakes. Gene thinks it is the funniest thing seeing sleepy Babe questioning every thing in existence as frosted flakes appear out of the lucky charms box. Babe still being half asleep just shrugs and tucks into his breakfast. Gene has to explain the prank to him later.

Babe Heffron:

Does the, "oh yeah I put premium air into the tires." To Gene. Gene is losing his mind, thinking babe paid $100 for air. Also has a bunch of fake items, like vomit and dog poo that he gets Gene with all the time. "Gene the cats puked all over the lap top!!" Poor Gene is stressed to the max with Babe lmao.

Don, Skip and Penk:

The trio is trioing. If there is one group that is forever pranking, it's these lot. Whether it's each other or their friends, they are always down for a cheeky prank. Fill a room with ball pit balls, foam, balloons. Breaks into your house and turn it into a full out haunted house. These boys are hard out, it's go big or go home. Nothing is off the table, they will invest life savings into a good prank. Watch your backs they are after you, they will punk you. They seriously talk about starting and producing their own punked series. 100% has a prank youtube channel that blows up.

32 notes · View notes

casualheizouenjoyers · 1 year ago

Text

‧₊˚✩ spider-girl! || march 7th x reader

‧₊˚✩ info: spider man au, modern au, everyone lives in the same apartment, reader makes comics. can be read as platonic ‧₊˚✩ authors note: wdym its been months since ive posted ahahah??? anyways just an old work i had sitting around, was meant to be longer and have romance and drama but alas im no longer hyperfixated on spiderverse or hsr. this is NOTT beta read or edited

You’ve grown accustomed to the lively cast of people that frequented the hallways of the apartment complex’s top floor, it was hard not to, really, when they were all likable and kind people who invited you into their friend group once you moved into your apartment.

It was easy to stop by Himeko’s place to drink coffee and talk about whatever news the two of you had heard of, the most recent discussion being of the new superhero seen swinging around the streets of the city.

You didn’t think twice before asking Dan Heng to beta read the script for the comic book you were working on. He neatly dropped the script at your door with corrections and his thoughts inked in red the next day.

Welt was someone you didn’t see becoming close to. The older man just didn’t seem like someone you’d talk to, but a casual conversation learned to you learning of his work as an animator, and suddenly you had someone willing to actually help you and comment on your designs for your work.

And March instantly took a liking to you. The girl would drag you outside of your apartment (“to actually see the sun”), snapping pictures of you with her Polaroid with the brightest smile on her face as she ooo'd and aaah'd at every photo she took. She’d ask you to pose for her photography class projects, and with two creative minds working on it, March always insisted on treating you to coffee or boba for helping her get a good grade.

“It was all you, really,” You replied as you sipped on your drink of choice. “All I did was sit there while you took the photos,”

“Sure, you sat there and looked superrrr cute—“ March is blissfully unaware on how your heart fluttered at the compliment.

“—But, you also helped me pick out locations and gave me editing tips on photoshop so!!! I say you helped a ton,” She had a satisfied smile on her face.

She’d invite you to her apartment for any reason really, whether it would be to have a sleepover or to watch a new movie or to help her explain to Dan Heng that Legally Blonde is cinematic masterpiece because— The details don’t matter, do they? Though, it did provide the movie for the groups movie night that week.

March easily became a close friend, sneaking her way into your daily life.

Which really made one thing terribly clear….

She’s horrible at keeping a secret.

You see, not long after you moved, a vigilante began to take the media by storm. Clad in a pastel blue suit sectioned off with a pastel pink and covered in a white spider web pattern with big white eyes bordered by a dark blue, it was obvious why she was gaining attention.

It was really something out of the comics you tended to be writing.

However, when your energetic friend began to use her photography skills for profit, she started to sell photos to a local news website of the vigilante referred to as “Spider-Girl” to a local news website. Taking a look at these photos for pose references, you noticed that March managed to get shots from angles that would be extremely hard to get as a normal-non-wall-crawling-human.

The dots weren’t extremely hard to connect after that.

“Sorry, I’m late again!” March called as she walked into Himeko’s living room an hour after you were all supposed to be there. This was probably the fourth time she was late for movie night, but usually she wasn’t that late.

“It’s alright, March,” Welt responded, glancing at the girl as she dragged herself into the room, exhaustion evident on her face.

“Took you long enough,” Dan Heng rolled his eyes, looking up from the book he was reading as he looked at March.

March didn’t respond to him like she would, and so you took it upon yourself to “Oh, shush,” him. The pink haired girl dropped herself next to you on the couch, immediately stealing a part of the blanket you had.

You felt her head drop onto your shoulder.

“March, is everything alright….” Himeko’s question goes quiet as March’s eyes were sewn shut, and soon she began to snore.

If you were not worried for her yet, you pushed a strand of hair out of her face as your eyes catch a glimpse of a bruise on her cheek, hastily and poorly covered up by her pale foundation but clearly noticeable now.

The room had become awfully silent as you all sat there, your movements halted and your eyes widened.

You had your suspicions, but they were confirmed as you gently wiped the makeup off her face and watch in real time as the bruise seemed to heal faster than a bruise should.

The silence continued as everyone watched until Dan Heng got up and left, coming back with a small file of evidence he had seemed to be building up. A hushed conversation revealed Welt seeing her stuff a pastel mask into a bag, and Himeko recounting a run in she had in which the masked vigilante referred to her by her name despite it being their first meeting.

It was obvious everyone had come to the same conclusion on their own.

March 7th was Spider-Girl.

#piers writes #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #march 7th x reader #march 7th #hsr x reader #hsr #spider man au #spiderverse au

51 notes · View notes

builtbybrokenbells · 2 years ago

Text

Picasso | aftermath

Graduating university brings plenty of emotions; pride, excitement, accomplishment, even the feeling of losing adolescence. Before their era of study draws to a close, Sam finds one more way to make the experience unforgettable for Picasso.

Read Picasso here

Pairing: sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: literally just fluff!! some swearing, too!sorry if i miss any!

hey so i wasn’t going to do this, but i couldn’t help myself ahahah. i didn’t want to make Picasso into a series, mostly because i loved the characters too much to write anything other than sweetness for them, and i always tend to throw in a bit of tension with longer stories. besides, everyone reads a series for a happy ending, right? but, i did want to write some more fluffiness because i grew super attached to these characters in specific. so, enjoy the little glimpse at happiness i wrote for them! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

“Stop moving!” You expelled, a giggle falling from your lips.

“I didn’t move!” Sam shot back, a laugh hidden in his defence.

“Clearly you did! If you didn’t, why is your Bass facing the wall, now?” The question caused a look of surprise to cross his face. He looked down at the instrument, unable to argue the point. “Don’t lie to me, Samuel!” You continued to look over the top of the canvas, hoping to catch his eye for a moment. Redness was riddled across your skin, the constant ghost of laughter stuck in your throat, and the urge to throw your paintbrushes down and run over to kiss him was growing by the second. He glanced over at you, doing his absolute best to keep his body still.

“It’s hard, okay? I don’t think I’ve ever sat still for this long in my entire life!”

“You were the one who insisted we do it this way, so stop complaining.” You reminded him, looking over the glisten of wet paint on the previously white material.

“Can’t a man change his mind?”

“No, actually.” You nudged your fingertip against the spot you’d just brushed the bristles against, smoothing out the dollop of paint that laid on a bit too thick. “In your words, a reference photo is ‘impersonal and boring’. If you want to be a live model so bad, then shut up and enjoy it.”

“You’re mean to me, you know. You used to be so nice.” He chided, but obliged to your request. He kept his position, both of you knowing that the argument was only in good fun.

“Then I got to know you.” You grumbled.

“Ouch,” you ran a few thin strokes of white paint through the mess of brown you’d used for his hair. “I don’t have to take this abuse.” He informed you.

“God, you talk a lot!” You exclaimed, a grin eating away at your lips. “The more you distract me, the longer this is going to take!”

“Fine,” he replied, much like a toddler who couldn’t get his way. You both fell back into silence, your hands working while your eyes familiarized yourself with him even more, if it were even possible.

In truth, you were almost finished with the portrait. You were dragging it out just a little bit longer because of his refusal to comply. You’d been working for a few hours, now, focused solely on your final piece for the semester. Portraits were your least favourite type of painting, but the process was much more enjoyable with him as the subject. This was your seventh and final session, the weeks of hard work finally coming to a close. You were almost sad to wrap up the project, mostly because it meant your uninterrupted one-on-one time would be coming to an end, too. Not that it would disappear completely, though. You were sure you’d both find another way to engross yourself in one another. It was just how you worked; yours and Sam’s lives were almost unbearably intertwined, starting from the very beginning and only worsening as time went on.

The end of your university experience was drawing to a close. This class was your final credit needed to graduate, and you were determined to go above and beyond. There was no doubt in your mind that this would do the trick, but even you had to admit you were a tad bit biased. In your opinion, anything that had to do with Sam was awe-inspiring. The piece was your largest to date; it was nearly half your height and was about just as wide. To you, it didn’t matter. You’d paint murals if it meant you got to showcase the beauty of Sam Kiszka. In the journey of loving him, this was your biggest profession of romance, to date.

Starting all the way back in freshman year, he’d managed to win your heart simply by existing. By chance, you’d managed to catch his attention, too. If Danny had not been such a meddler, you would never be where you are, now. After that first night of emotional confession, your’s and Sam’s lived seemed to intertwine as if it were written in the stars to be that way. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner dates, late nights at the studio where he watched you work, sneaking into the music conservatory to listen to him play, and many nights spent in each others beds lead to an undeniable connection. You’d fallen in love with each other before you’d ever shared a word, and it only grew stronger as time passed.

In your second year, you’d gotten a tiny studio apartment for yourself and continued on with your studies while off-campus. Sam and Danny moved in together just down the street, leaving an even bigger opportunity for your relationship to grow. By the time third year rolled around, you and Sam were beyond dedicated to each other. Danny had quickly worked his way to being your best friend in the entire world, and you finally seemed to find that sense of belonging you’d spent your entire life searching for. In your third year, it was unspoken that you’d be moving in with them, too. That year, you had the opportunity to meet his family, and with their soaring approval, you solidified your home in his heart. Now, three years later, you were still as in love with him as you were in the beginning.

It had been a lifetimes worth of music, art, and laughter. Never a fear of standing in each others way, because you were both always each others biggest fans. Never a question of doubt, or limitation, because you became professionals at growing alongside each other. He wasn’t your reason to live, or anything as dramatic of the sorts, but he certainly made life better. Every moral, memory, and purpose remained the same, they just grew to include him, too. You’d left your hometown in hopes of self-discovery, and you found it, along with so much more. There was never a need to leave and search for more, because you’d found everything you needed within the walls of that run down-residence building.

“I’m done,” you breathed, a toothy smile breaking out on your face. His eyes lit up, almost as if he couldn’t believe your words. He made a move to stand, but you held your hand up to stop him. “Hold on!” you took another look over at him. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of adoration at the sight. The rays of sunlight were filtering through the window and hitting him perfectly, casting a golden glow over his already breathtaking features. A small smile danced on his lips, but it almost permanently resided there. You were certain he wasn’t even aware of it. His hair was practically shining in the light, and his eyes remained on you, so full of love and letting you know it without even having to speak it aloud. You checked over the painting, ensuring you had every detail perfect. “Yeah, it’s done.” You beamed.

“Can I see?” A glimmer of hope twinkled in his eye. You hadn’t let him see it at all, wanting the grand finale to take him as a shock.

“Yeah,” you nodded, holding your hand out to him. He stood, placing his bass on its stand in the corner of the room. He approached you with caution, scared that you may change your mind. When you didn’t protest, he grabbed hold of your hand and laced his fingers through yours. You gave him a gentle pull towards you, ushering him closer. Before looking at the canvas, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips. You gave a hum of satisfaction, happy for the gesture. “Ready?” He nodded, hesitant to pull back from you.

He took a step back, eyes taking in the portrait before him. A few minutes passed before he spoke; he wanted to appreciate it as much as he could. “Y/n, this is… phenomenal.” He said, leaning closer to get a better look. “I don’t think I’ve ever looked that pretty.” You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at his statement.

“I was actually worried I didn’t do you any justice.” You admitted. You took the time to examine the piece, too.

He was sat on a stool, head tilted towards the ceiling with his hair cascading down his back, giving the best view of his face. The neck of his bass guitar was held in his hand, the body propped on his foot which was resting on one of the rungs of the stool. It was turned towards you at an angle, used more as an accessory rather than a centre. You added some hanging plants in the background, vines standing prominent against the beige wall. On his left, you showcased the window which had been casting the glow over him. He looked ethereal, although to you, that was completely normal.

“Justice?” He scoffed. “This is…” he paused, trying to put his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I don’t even have the right words for this, baby. It looks like you took the picture with a camera.” He let his hand fall on your upper back, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine.

“Worth the wait?” You asked, looking up to him.

“Very much so.” He assured you. “Are you submitting this for the contest, too?”

“I was thinking about it.” You admitted. The university was holding a competition for the upper year art students. The prize was money, but that didn’t really matter to you. What mattered was showing off your work, and your beautiful boyfriend in the process. It was more of a show of luck; bragging, even. “Wasn’t sure if I was going to enter at all, but I’m thinking that I should at least try. If I submit this one, I’ll have to win. Bet they’ve never seen a portrait of someone this beautiful.” You smiled. He let out a chuckle, leaning down and placing a kiss on your head.

“Only way it could have been better is if you painted a picture of yourself.” You felt the familiar blush rise to your cheeks, one he never had any trouble causing. “You know, I’m glad we use this room for this stuff.” He hummed, taking in the overflowing mess of art supplies and instruments. When you all moved in, you and Sam had claimed the extra room for all things art and music. Danny had no issue with it, spending just as much time in there with you both. It saved both of you from having to travel to campus to work, and gave you some extra bedroom space by not having to store all of your stuff in there with you.

“Me, too.” You agreed.

“When we get our own house, I want your art everywhere.” He whispered. “It deserves to be shown off,” you turned your head to look up at him, giving him a smile. “Just like you.” He took your face in his hand, leaning down and giving you another kiss.

“You’re just being nice because you finally got me to paint a portrait of you.” You teased. He’d been hinting at the idea since you’d started dating, but you’d always brushed it off. You vowed you would someday, but you wanted to have all the knowledge and practice you needed before attempting to recreate such a beautiful scene. At the end of your degree, you finally decided to take him up on the offer, feeling ready for the challenge. To date, it was your most prized creation. Less so for the work you put into it, more so because it was a picture of him.

“I’m always nice to you.” His lips turned down into a frown. You pulled him into another kiss, quickly erasing the expression away. When he pulled back, you were almost sad at the loss of contact. Still, years later, you were just as excited to kiss him, or touch him, or speak with him. It was like you’d never moved on from the honeymoon stage; the love and the adoration all the same, just with the added bonus of knowing him completely. He was your best friend more so than your partner. He made the happiness a little bit bigger, and the sadness a little less intense. You were hopelessly in love with him, still pining over him like you used to while sitting alone in your dorm room. The difference though, was now you got to share a life with him. It was a beautiful thing to crush on someone while actively getting to love them. “We better get ready if we’re gonna make that dinner reservation.” He said, noticing the time on the clock behind you.

“Oh, yeah! I forgot about that.” You admitted, feeling a bit guilty.

“I didn’t,” he smiled, hoping you didn’t notice the hint of nervousness behind his eyes. You got up, removing your apron and hanging it on one of the hooks on the wall. You left the canvas there, figuring it would dry enough to move it by the time you got back. You cleaned up your paints and brushes and put them all away while Sam helped where he could. He knew you liked to keep them in a certain way, so he tried to aid without overstepping or disrupting your organization.

You both went back to your shared bedroom, searching for an outfit suitable for the restaurant Sam had chosen. He didn’t give you much information, aside from telling you it was fancy and your reservation was for 6. You grabbed a dress from your closet, eyeing it for a while before deciding it was good enough. You brought it to the bathroom, showering quickly and changing into it. You blow dried your hair and threw on some makeup, spritzing on some perfume before checking yourself in the mirror. You let out a noise of triumph, satisfied with your work. When you joined Sam, he was changed into a pair of black jeans and a button up, cuffed up to the elbows. He’d thrown on cologne, the smell immediately enveloping you and inviting you in. His hair was hanging down, framing his face, perfectly showcasing his features.

“You look stunning,” he breathed, looking you up and down.

“You look pretty good yourself,” you complimented, approaching him and placing a kiss to his cheek. He turned his head, capturing your lips in a real kiss before you got away.

“Ready?” He asked, giving you a smile. He was fidgeting with his hands, unsure of what to do with them. To busy them, he threw on a jacket, checking his pockets a few times before looking back to you, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” you nodded, grabbing a light jacket for yourself. You picked some nice shoes from the closet, slipping them on and reaching for his hand. He took it, almost immediately relaxing at the feeling. You both left the room with no more words exchanged.

As you made your way to the front door, you passed Danny in the kitchen. He gave a wave, engrossed in whatever textbook he had on display in front of him. He looked up only for a moment to give a smile. “Big date night?” He asked, taking in your attire. You gave a nod, a small smile on your lips.

“You, too, I see.” You joked.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “One last exam and then I’m a free man.”

“I just finished my last project, too.” You beamed. Sam was finished a week ago, his degree practically in his hand already.

“We’re all grown up, now.” Danny said, looking between both of you.

“If that’s what you’d like to call it.” Sam chuckled.

“You guys better go if you’re gonna make the reservation.” Danny said, checking his watch. You tilted your head to the side, curious as to why Danny was so aware of the specifics of your date. “Don’t have too much fun, and be home before ten.” He sent a wink in Sam’s direction.

“Will do.” Sam gave him a joking salute. With that, he continued to guide you towards the front door. As you stepped outside, the sun warmed your face, causing a smile. The wind was still cool, but the essence of summer was knocking on the door, practically ready to burst through. You both walked down the street wordlessly, content with the company and the promise of a good night. The joys of living so close to campus also meant that there were plenty of stores and restaurants within walking distance, too.

It didn’t take long to reach the restaurant, only a few minutes at your casual pace. When you arrived, Sam held the door for you. You smiled to yourself, instantly reminded of the memory of the first dinner you shared together. He entered behind you, wasting no time snaking his arm around your waist. He walked up to the worker who was seating customers and let him know his name. Without hesitation, he led you both to a corner booth. Your eyes took in the sight around you, marvelling at the fanciful decor and structure of the building. You slid in one side and Sam sat across from you. With a bid of a good night and a pair of menus, you two were left alone.

Sam was back to fidgeting with his hands, unsure of what to do with himself. You reached across the table, placing your hand atop of his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “What’s up?” You asked, curious once more.

“I don’t know, just nervous I guess.” He let out a small laugh.

“What are you nervous for? It’s just me, Sammy.”

“I know.” He responded. “I’m always nervous around pretty girls.” He smiled. Your anxiety was soothed, happy to hear some normalcy from him. “So, you know how we were talking about moving to Frankenmuth for a while?” He asked. You nodded, wondering where he was going with the question.

“I found a spot, and I think you’ll like it.” He said, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. You grinned, eager to see what he’d discovered. He was incredibly excited to be moving in together, just the two of you. You’d decided you would stay in his hometown for a while, just to figure life out before settling down permanently. You both agreed that access to family was a good idea, and there was no way in hell you would move back to your hometown. Plus, over the years, his family had become your own, anyhow. You both had been apartment hunting with no real intent; neither of you had found one that caught your eye.

He pulled up a picture, showing you the listing. You took his phone, swiping through the photographs. With each picture, you found yourself falling more in love with the place. When you reached the end, you gave an eager nod. “That’s the one, I think.” He smiled, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“Josh actually sent it to me, so we can thank him.” He admitted.

“You had your brothers on the hunt, too?” You laughed.

“Everyone, actually.” He admitted, cheeks dusted with pink. “Wanted to find the perfect spot.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. Anywhere would be perfect as long as I’m with you.” You assured him. He caught your eye, giving you a smile. “But, in terms of perfect places, that’s the one.” You added.

“Then it’s settled.” You handed him his phone back. You both agreed that once you had some money saved, you’d travel the world. You were certain you wanted to be with him, but your craving for experiencing the world had never left. You were grateful that he was so supportive of the idea, and that you’d get to share the memories with him, now. Soon after, you both ordered your food. Sam’s attention fell on a bottle of champagne on the menu, not being able to resist the temptation. You couldn’t find it in yourself to fake a complaint, content with his choice, too. When the waiter returned with two glasses, he was sure to fill yours before his. You sipped at the drink, watching him carefully.

“You know, you never told me why we’re on such a fancy outing.” You were begging for just a sliver of information. He was always taking you on dates, never afraid to show you off, but this one was quite different than the others. Much more serious, and he was being awfully reserved as to why.

“Celebrating.” He said, but that was all.

“Celebrating what, exactly?” He gave a shrug.

“Graduation, adulthood… us.” He grinned.

“We celebrate us everyday, don’t you think?” You laughed.

“Is there an issue with that?” He teased. Before you could reply, your food was brought to the table. Instead of continuing the conversation, you both ate in almost silence, not realizing how hungry you were.

The meal was filled with small chatter, nothing of importance but still fulfilling. Mostly just talk about the future, excitement for the new beginning and verbalized happiness because you both could experience it together. As you were finishing your meal, you were also making noticeable progress with the bottle of champagne. Sam threw the idea of dessert in the air, sparking your interest further. “You’re really treating me, tonight.” You smirked.

“Nothing but the best for you, Picasso.” That was one thing that never changed; the nickname. If anything, it grew to become permanent, almost a rite of passage. You were certain you’d never escape it.

You and Sam settled on sharing a dessert, both too full to handle one of your own. It didn’t take long for that to be presented to you, too. As you both picked away at it, you noticed Sam’s aura change once more. Somewhere between the apartment talk and the second glass of champagne, his anxiety seemed to melt away. Now that the dinner was coming to a close, it was back in full force. You thought he might explode, just by the way his leg was bouncing under the table. His nervousness was producing one in you, too, completely unaware of why he felt such a way.

“Okay, you’ve gotta tell me what’s up.” You gave a little chuckle, catching his attention. “You’re scaring me.”

“No! It’s nothing bad, I promise.” He laughed, catching on to what you were saying and stopping his nervous ticks.

“Then what is it?” You asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“God, you’re pushy.” He smirked. “I love you, but you’ve got no patience.”

“Never have, you know that.” You argued, defending yourself. He looked around, scoping out the restaurant and seeing that it was quite empty, now. “What is it, Sam?”

“Fine.” He placed his fork on the plate, leaning back in his seat and taking a long look over your face. You raised an eyebrow in expectation, not willing to play the game any longer. His hand returned to the pocket of his jacket, searching for something. He waited before moving any further, still looking a bit hesitant. After a moment of a staring contest, he pulled the item out and placed it on the table without a word. “I was gonna do it properly, but someone couldn’t wait any longer.” He snipped, humour very evident in his voice. You paid no mind to his torment, eyes only focused on what he’d presented to you.

“Sam…” you breathed, heart drumming against your chest. All other words got lost in translation, no coherent thought process happening in your brain.

“I know.” He hummed.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends.” He said, eyeing you with caution. “Open it and find out.” You caught his gaze, all of the nerves in your body calming at the sight of him. He gave you a reassuring smile, likely feeling the same way. Still, you were quite content with the staring contest you’d started with the inanimate object. When you didn’t move, he reached for the small velvet box. He carefully pulled the top open, waiting to see your reaction.

“Sam,” You repeated, voice shaky, feeling the prickle of tears threaten to spill over. The intricate design of the diamond ring was breathtaking. It wasn’t over the top; it was small, but perfectly beautiful in its simplicity. You were certain he couldn’t have made a better choice.

“Please tell me those are happy tears.” He chuckled, but you could tell he was nearly bursting with anxiety.

“Yeah, of course they are.” You dismissed his worry, a tone of incredulity taking over. You were almost angry with him for thinking otherwise.

“Oh, thank god,” he sighed. “Didn’t want to do this if you were going to be upset. Would be a lot more embarrassing if you said no.” He joked, sliding out of the booth and holding his free hand out to you. You joined him, and he wasted no time sinking down to one knee. “I know we’re young, but I’d like to believe we’re a lot less childish than we were when we first came here. And if I do remember correctly, all of those years ago, we promised we would do stupid things and learn from them, together. I don’t think this is stupid by any means, but if it is, I’d be happy to add it to my bucket list of things to learn from, with you.” He started, speaking directly from the heart. He’d written and rewritten what he wanted to say a million times, and finally settled on a simple, short mix between everything he could think of.

“I don’t have a lot to say, because there’s no words that could ever amount to anything I feel about you. I could talk for hours and still never be able to explain it right. You’re the love of my life, you’re Picasso. You’re… everything.” He took a deep breath, the profession hitting him harder than he thought it would. “Falling in love with you was easier than falling asleep. Spending the rest of my life with you is the smallest way I can express how much you mean to me. I don’t know what comes after this life, but every day I pray that it involves you, too. I want to spend every lifetime, in every universe with you. What I feel for you is way beyond the years we get to spend here, and I know that there’s nothing that could ever compare. I have the entire world standing in front of me right now, and I’m lucky to even get to experience what it’s like to love you. So, I guess I’m asking if you’ll let me do it forever. Paint me pictures until I run out of places to put them, let me write you songs until you get sick of hearing them. Do stupid shit with me for the rest of our lives, learn with me, grow with me…” he paused. “Marry me, Picasso?”

“Of course I will, Sam.” You laughed as you nodded enthusiastically, the tears finally spilling onto your cheeks. He let out a sigh of relief, slipping the ring onto your finger. “Get off the floor, you look stupid.” You joked. He rolled his eyes, but did as you said.

“That’s what I get for being romantic?” He teased, snaking his arm around your waist.

“I love you, Sam. More than anything.” You placed a hand on his cheek, leaning in for a kiss. He held you there, finally realizing his anxiety had been entirely misplaced. “How long have you been planning this?” You asked when you pulled away.

“Well, forever.” He laughed. “Kinda knew I wanted to marry you since that first night in your dorm room. You were just… special.” He admitted. “I knew I couldn’t propose then, or I’d look pretty idiotic. But I saved every spare cent until I could afford the ring. Been sitting in my dresser for a few months, now. Was just waiting for the right time. Now that we’re done with school, I figured I was in the clear. We’re adults now, remember?” He grinned.

“You’ve known for that long?” He nodded, still holding you close to him. “I have, too, I think.” You felt another blush rise to your cheeks.

“To be honest, I wasn’t planning on doing it here. I was just too nervous, and you were asking questions, and yeah… Danny’s probably got the whole living room decorated for me. He was in on it, too. Was gonna get pictures for us.” He was a bit embarrassed, you could tell just from his voice. Also probably a bit guilty for having Danny do all the work. Even so, the proposal was perfect, and undoubtedly you. The history of your relationship with Sam was long, but mostly based on the heart, and the notion of feeling like you were safe enough to follow your heart. Just as your relationship began, the proposal was in the heat of the moment; the imperfect nature made it all the more remarkable.

“Well… here.” You pulled back from him, slipping the ring off your finger and handing it to him.

“Woah, hold on! You already said yes, and-“

“No, Sammy,” you giggled. “I’m not giving it back, I still would very much like to marry you. Just returning it momentarily. We can do it properly, let Danny get his pictures, have his proud mom moment. Plus… I think I’d like to have the memory forever. Pictures would be great.”

“Oh, okay,” he let out a long exhale. “You scared me.” You both laughed, realizing how wrong the action seemed in the beginning. “You think he’ll know?”

“I’m really good at acting.” You both knew it was a lie; your C in your theatre class looming over your head as you said it.

“Yeah, if anything, practice makes perfect.” He tried to play along. “Actually doing it was much different than practicing in front of a mirror. I practiced with Danny a few times, but he always said no. Was a bit disheartening, really.” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the idea, imagining the picture so clearly.

“That’s a shame. He would’ve looked so pretty in a wedding dress.”

“That’s what I said!” Sam exclaimed. You both died down from your fit of giggles after a moment. “I love you, Picasso.” He breathed.

“I love you so much, Sammy.” And you meant it, forever thankful to the university for placing him across the hall from you. You both gathered your things, paying for the bill and returning to the street. The walk home was quiet, both of you content with the company and already daydreaming about wedding planning.

When you arrived home, all of the lights were off and Danny had taken it upon himself to play some soft music through the record player. At the sound of the door, he immediately took to hiding. Sam guided you to the living room, looking to you with real hope in his eyes. Even if he’d already gotten the answer he wanted, he still wanted to please you. As he proposed the second time, it was much more put together and way less nerve-racking. Still, the tears that spilled were very real, and the enthusiasm in your yes was all the same. Danny managed to sneak a few pictures of the actual event, but saved the majority for the end, not wanting to distract either of you.

Although your performance was grand, Danny was quick to catch on to the fact Sam had let the cat out of the bag. The clarity of his speech and lax attitude was a dead giveaway. He knew Sam had been out of his mind with worry since he’d bought the ring. Even so, he couldn’t find it within himself to be upset, even finding tears in his own eyes for a moment. He was more than happy to be a part of the event, spending the last years being nothing other than your biggest fan. Once the commotion died down and all of the pictures were taken, nobody was sure where to go from there.

“Listen to this one,” Danny said, looking between you both. You watched him in curiosity, wondering what he would say. “Billy Joel and Picasso walk into a wedding venue. You’ll never guess who they run into.” You erupted into a fit of giggles, delighted at the knowledge he remembered your stupid joke from so long ago.

“Hmmm… I wonder who it could be.” Sam placed his fingers to his chin, pretending to think about it.

“Shakespeare!” You exploded, causing them both to laugh.

“Yeah, but he’s not very happy.” Danny said, a smile breaking through his look of false seriousness. “Not only did Picasso steal his boyfriend, but they both told him he was ‘too old, and a ‘dude’,” he air-quoted his last word “as if that means anything,” he grumbled quickly. “So they wouldn’t let him be the flower girl!” You all dissolved into another fit of laughter. “Jokes aside, I’m really happy for you guys. Still holding out hope for the flower girl thing, but happy, nonetheless.” He advanced towards you and pulled you both into a hug.

“You can be the flower girl, Danny. I think you’d look awfully good in a dress.” You mumbled, words slightly muffled due to your head being buried in his shoulder.

“Best news I’ve gotten all day.” He teased. You held onto him for a moment longer and a bit tighter, finally realizing that this was your forever. Surrounded by love and laughter, and never feeling out of place. You were certain life couldn’t get any better, completely satisfied with the little family you’d created together, and eager to keep building it.

116 notes · View notes