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#I’ve done it for so long that at this point I’ve forgotten how to keep up the curtain
bangtanhoneys · 2 days
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BTS & Grace: BTS Songs
SEOKJIN - EPIPHANY
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The piano stared at him. 
Well, he stared at the piano in the most accusing stare he could produce. It had been awhile since he played anything, and the last time had been a bit of fun before he had to go and do his military duty. Now that he was out and now in production for his first solo album, his skills seemed to have vanished. 
“What’s the piano done?” Grace asked, putting the iced coffee on the table of the practice studio and kicking off her shoes. 
“Hmm? Oh, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to play,” Seokjin admitted as his long fingers hit the keys in what he thought was the correct pattern, but it didn’t sound right. 
Grace said nothing as she sat on the piano bench and glanced at the music score set out, realising he had been trying to play Epiphany. A special song to both of them if the tattoo on her ribs was any indication. 
“So you’ve forgotten how to play, or are you not confident?” She asked, glancing up at her partner for many, many, years. 
“I’m confident! I’m World Wide Handsome! I’m always confident!”
The stare he got in return had Seokjin deflating as he sat on the chair that was next to the piano. “Okay, I’m nervous. That’s probably the right word.”
Grace knew a little of what Seokjin was feeling. He was the last one to bring out an album, and there were very high expectations from everyone: from himself, from the fans, from the boys, from the company. He hadn’t exactly had time to hone his skills again after coming out of the military, as he had jumped face-first into other projects, but as Grace knew, trying to do an album that fully displayed all your skills was a hard thing to do.
She didn’t fully know how to play the piano; her skills were more in her voice and dancing rather than an instrument. But, for Seokjin, she could try.
“Let’s sing it first,” she said as she got comfortable.
The first notes of Epiphany started, and Grace didn’t look at Seokjin, keeping her eyes fully focused on the keys and the notes. And it was if by instinct that the lyrics flowed from Seokjin without any trouble. She knew the more he sang it, the more he would feel comfortable, the more he would be inclined to touch the piano, the more other lyrics would come to him for his future album. 
He just had to have his little epiphany first. 
YOONGI - DAECHWITA
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Grace still didn’t know how she managed to find herself on the set of Yoongi’s new music video but here she was, sitting in the director’s tent as she watched the camera be set up for the cameo of Jungkook and Jin who would ‘perform’ behind Yoongi. 
The energy on set was unmatched and she could see props being carried around, costumes being adjusted and Yoongi being run through what was the next couple of scenes. For Grace, she was here as moral support. She didn’t have to do anything other than watch, drink tea, offer a suggestion every now and then and laugh at the beard they had managed to stick to Jin’s chin. 
It did look good to be fair, if he could grow one properly. 
Next to Grace was one of her favourite directors and long time BTS collaborator, Lumpens. His eye for detail and hidden meanings was well known amongst the fandom and Grace wondered what hidden details he would manage to slip into this movie video. 
A historic battle between Suga and AgustD, his two personas - modern and old. 
Daechwita was becoming one of Grace’s favourite songs to hit the gym with. 
“Are you sure you don’t want a cameo?” 
Grace glanced over and shook her head as Yoongi stood next to the monitors, watching as the crowd was being set up along the lane. “I’m good, thanks. Jungkook and Jin are pretty much going to steal the show at this point and you’ve done most of the work. Plus, it’s not like I can slip in un-noticed.”
“You could be the concubine,” Lumpens teased.
The snort of laughter was almost missed as Grace gasped in mocked outrage. “Concubine? Here I thought I would have the higher role of queen, thank you very much.”
Yoongi’s shoulders shook with laughter as he left the area, hurrying over to tell his hyung and maknae what had just happened.
“Concubine,” Grace muttered to herself as she huffed and crossed her arms. Little did she know, less than a year later, she would be performing said song on stage and modernly dressed as a concubine but hidden by a fan until revealed later on in her verse. 
But for now, as she watched the scene revealing Jin and Jungkook, she couldn’t help but mutter again, “Concubine,” with a pout. 
J-HOPE - BOY MEETS EVIL 
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The video was never meant to see the light of day, after it was deemed by the company to be too sexy, but with Grace’s solo career about to start and Hobi now about to be discharged, Big Hit Entertainment finally released the full version of Boy Meets Evil with Grace in it. 
It caused a storm on social media after many watched the video, now fully understanding why they had seen the behind the scenes video but not the actual thing. 
“Here’s my dance partner,” Hobi told the camera with a big grin on his face, as if he didn’t know what exactly was about to happen. 
“We’ve gone full sexy for this one,” Grace sighed as her lips were touched up with bright red and her hair that had been newly dyed red with black highlights was fluffed up. She was dressed similar to Hobi, but in black leather pants and a loose white blouse, bright red heels on her feet. 
While her vocals were in Boy Meets Evil, but in the background and somewhat disguised, Grace’s character was heavily influenced in the WINGS album and story. Her video for her solo song, Dangerous Woman, would be the introduction to Hobi’s video which is why the team thought it would be a good idea to film a version of Boy Meets Evil with Grace in it. 
The choreography had been confirmed only two days ago with Grace’s moves to match Hobi’s and there was one move which Grace knew would cause a ruckus, when Hobi would bend his knees to the floor, she would be laid on his back with her chest to the ceiling and her hand reaching up.
It was daring, perfect for the themes but maybe it was too daring. 
“Sexy is fun though. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen dark red Grace. Danger has come back,” Hobi teased which brought a small laugh out of Grace. It wasn’t that was unused to being sexy, she had to do it for Skool Luv Affair and Dark & Wild but this was sexy to the extreme. The dance routine for Blood, Sweat and Tears was proof of that.
NAMJOON - PERSONA
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The final selection of different recordings of Namjoon’s solo and the introduction to the new album played over the speakers in the recording studio with PDogg and Hiss Noise at the deck as they twiddled with a couple of buttons and sliders. So far, it was sounding good with the samples of Intro: Skool Luv Affair but it was clear they were missing something as Namjoon had dragged Grace into the studio with him for the last recording day. 
“I think it sounds great, what’s missing?” Grace asked when the song was finished playing.
“There’s just something missing,” PDogg shrugged as he played the song again and got to the part of the song that was clearly troubling him. It was the third verse after the chorus and Grace frowned, not sure what could be missing that was needed to give the extra jump. 
“Maybe you need a bit of a high pitched ‘woh’,” she suggested. “Every after line of Joon’s, just add that in so it adds that emphasis on what he’s saying.”
Clearly, from the look on the three men’s faces, that had been the perfect suggestion as Grace then found herself in the booth with headphones on and a sheet of lyrics in front of her. She’d be in there for another three hours as they played around with different tones, different sounds, going high, going low but it was always over the same part.
“My name is R,” played in Grace’s ears as she waited for the parts where she thought she could add that bit of extra something to the third verse and after doing it for the final time, the producers plus Namjoon were satisfied.
“Ah thank you Gigi,” Namjoon beamed as he all but slumped into the chair.
“I’ve never done so many woh in my life,” she sighed but at least the song was done and marked for completion. She just had to go and finish her own now. 
JIMIN - LIE
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WINGS was a major project, and it had Grace being pulled each way. She was in discussions over costumes, doing research with Namjoon to figure out the major points of what was the 'story’ behind the album, and while all that was going on, she was in discussions over her ‘character’ and her own solo song for the album.
Which is why Jimin felt bad when he came to the small office that had been her old office from her secretary days and now turned into a small studio. One wall was covered in images that helped with inspiration, and the computer on the desk was currently playing the instrumental version of Blood, Sweat and Tears while printing out various pages of something in English.
“Noona?” Jimin asked, poking his head around the doorway after gently knocking on the frame. 
Grace glanced up from where she was highlighting something and arched an eyebrow, knowing full well Jimin should be in recording right now. “Everything okay?” she asked, putting down the highlighter and swinging her chair around. 
“PDogg has a special request,” the young man sighed.
She snorted and grinned, shaking her head. “I bet he does. What do you need?”
“There are these parts in the song where we need ‘a haunting female vocal,’ his words not mine and he’s tried to replicate what he wants and I’ve tried but we can’t quite make it work,” Jimin pulled out his phone and pressed play on what had been recorded in the session.
The vocals were the opener to what would then be LIE, Jimin’s solo song, and the vocals would haunt the rest of the song. PDogg had tried to pull off an almost operatic ‘yeah’ in some parts, but with the way Jimin winced, it clearly didn’t work.
“Okay, let me see what he wants me to do, and let’s see if it works. I’ve got an hour spare before I’m dragged to another meeting with Namjoon,” she sighed as she grabbed her WINGS notebook and her cardigan, swinging it on just before Jimin flung his arms around her.
“Ah noona, you’re the best. I’m going to owe you one if this works.”
What Grace managed to produce in an hour was kept on the final edition of the track. Many would compliment the way it made perfect sense to have her do those parts to accompany what her ‘character’ represented throughout the whole album and BTS universe. 
TAEHYUNG - INNER CHILD
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“You want me to sing the whole song with you?”
Grace was a bit astonished when she had been pulled into another meeting with the producers and the team behind Map of the Soul 7.
“Well, sort of. We’re going to mix your vocals in with Taehyung’s and this is at his request because he feels like he can’t do the song justice without your vocals alongside him,” PDogg shrugged.
“But his version is amazing and he’s a talented singer without me and anyone else backing his vocals up,” Grace tried to argue but she knew better than to argue with Taehyung over what he wanted. It was his solo song on the album and while she had provided vocals for nearly everyone else, Taehyung was one of the few who asked. But if wanted Grace on this song, doing what she used to do best, then that’s exactly what she would do. 
The next day, in the recording studio, Taehyung was already in the booth and waiting.
“You’re here early,” Grace chuckled as she shrugged off her coat and set her tea down on a table off to the side.
“It’s not often I get to sing fully with my noona,” he grinned. 
With headphones on and a sheet of paper handed over to her where Taehyung had underlined the lyrics where he wanted to hear her voice as well as notes on where her backing vocals were needed, Grace settled herself on the chair in the booth next to Taehyung.
And in the final edit of the track, you could tell it was a female’s voice but they had mixed it in a way that you couldn’t quite tell it was Grace’s. Hidden but there and for those who knew Grace’s vocals well, they could easily hear her by the time verse three rolled around as she clearly sang with Taehyung. 
JUNGKOOK - SHOT GLASS OF TEARS
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They were known for being able to sing a rough guide of a song and make it something magical. Any song Namjoon, Yoongi, J-Hope, PDogg, PDBang or anyone sent to them - let them just sing it and the song made itself. With Jungkook’s perfect pitch and Grace’s adaptability from English to Korean, they made a good team.
When it came to Golden and the final song of the album, there was only one person Jungkook wanted to do his background vocals for him. It wasn’t like any of the other producers argued with him either, he was all the way in Korea and they were in America and so Jungkook sent out the special request to his noona. 
The answer, as expected, was a resounding yes.
Grace, personally, thought that she didn’t need to do much as she sat there with the headphones on and listened to what was being called the last rough cut. She could hear Jungkook’s own background vocals blending in and she glanced at the sheet where there had been notes on what she needed to do.
“I’m proud of you,” she said suddenly as Jungkook joined her in the booth to act as a vocal director for her. He blinked and turned bashful, knowing this album was completely unexpected of him with its suggestive lyrics and cursing but he was an adult now and Grace was starting to see that. 
She reached over and gently pinched his cheek, causing him to frown at her. “Come on,” she laughed and pulled the microphone closer. “Tell me where you want noona to do what she needs to do.”
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It’s a tiny rant. Ignore it or don’t, I can’t tell you what to do.
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dinogoofymutated · 4 months
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NSFW!nightcrawler/GN!AFAB!reader
This is my fic for mine and @pompeii-for-elephants ' fic exchange!! Hope you like it!!! I know I said I was surprised at myself when I wrote the cable smut, but this??? HOT DAYMN. Also, special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their guide on german phrases for Kurt!
TWS: MNDI!!! Very tender Sex, PNV sex, shower handjobs, praise, cowgirl position, Nipple sucking, creampie. Kurt Wagner marry me I'm begging you
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 You hated goodbyes, but worse than the goodbyes was the waiting. The nail-biting, anxious, unbelievably horrid waiting. 
  Kurt had been off on a mission with Logan and Rogue for about two weeks. You know it could be worse, understanding that some of these missions can take months at a time, but still. It was hard, being away from him for so long. You worried constantly about how he was, if he was okay, and if he needed anything. The moments where your mind was busy were moments of relief, as when you let your mind wander it always wandered back to him. 
  You’ve just dismissed your class for the day when Jean psychically gives you confirmation that the group of them would be coming home today, and you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You’re almost done grading assignments when you hear the jet above the school and practically scramble out of your chair. You hastily turn off the light and close the door, speed-walking down the hallway and then down the stairs to the bottom floor. You’re almost at the steps of the basement when you hear a *Bamf!* from behind you. You practically skid to a stop, whipping around and catching sight of Kurt with an excited smile.
  You’re the first to tackle him into a hug. He hisses in a bit of pain, and you quickly try to pull away when you realize that he’s hurting. He’s not having any of it though, keeping you held tightly against his chest as he holds you close.
  “Ich habe dich vermisst.” Kurt says, pressing his face into your hair and breathing you in. “I went to your classroom, but it seems that I had been just a tad too late.” You laugh at that, giving him a gentle squeeze before pulling away just enough to see his face. His smile is contagious, and you cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing your thumb against a dark bruise that looks to be forming under his cheekbone. 
 “Sorry to lead you on a chase. How are you feeling?” You ask. Kurt hums, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. 
  “Better now that I’ve seen you, Schatz.” You cock an eyebrow at that, and all he does is give you an innocent smile, albeit a tired one. You’re trying to be reasonable here, but god if it wasn't for a wave of cuteness aggression. You catch his lips in a kiss, so very thankful to have him back home. Kurt eagerly returns it, and you’ve certainly forgotten that this is still a school at this point. On cue, there’s a cough from somewhere behind you, and you separate from Kurt, only slightly embarrassed to be caught. It’s Logan, giving the two of you a knowing look and a bit of a smirk as he crosses his arms.
 “Sorry to interrupt the reunion, but you’re still needed for the mission report, elf.” Logan says. Kurt winces, and you frown at the thought of being away from him again. But, procedures were in place for a reason. Kurt kisses you on the cheek, taking your hands in his just briefly before he has to leave.
The whole afternoon has gone by with Kurt still caught up with his responsibilities. You’re getting ready for the shower with only a towel wrapped around you when you hear Kurt enter your shared room. He gives you a greeting that sounds tired, and you can’t help but peek out of the bathroom door, spotting sweet Kurt as he sighs and sits on the bed, exhausted. You try not to stare as he begins to take off his suit, but it’s admittedly hard. You frown at seeing his exhaustion, and the dark purple bruises that he reveals as he peels out of the clothing. You think for a moment, but come up with something you decide was more than fair.
  “I’ll see you as soon as I can, Ja?” He whispers. You nodd, smiling in a way you hope is rather reassuring. He smiles back, before following Logan back into the basement.
  “Hey, Kurt?” You ask sweetly, leaning against the doorway. 
  “Yes, love?” He asks. He does a double take when he looks up, giving you a tired smile once his surprise wears off.
  “Join me?” You add on. His bright smile is all you need as an answer, and he scrambles to get out of the suit faster as you walk back into the bathroom. He teleports behind you as you start the water, dragging you backward into his arms to make you giggle.
  “Let me help you with that, Mein Schatz.” Kurt says as he unravels the towel from you. He hangs it on the rack before turning back to you, and you can’t help but get closer to him, holding his face in your hands as you place a kiss on his forehead. His yellow eyes watch you fondly, his hands falling on your hips and his tail swaying happily as you hold him. Your hands stroke his cheekbones, before trailing down to his chest, rubbing your thumbs across his collarbones as you look at the bruises on his chest and abdomen. You frown, trailing a hand to the area to gingerly stroke the skin.
  “You let Hank check you out?” You ask. Kurt nods, taking your hand in his own and pressing it over his heart.
  “Alles ist gut, Don’t worry for me, Liebchen. I’ll heal soon enough.” He says, and you sigh at him, giving him a concerned look. Kurt had always been a defender and protector, and yet he still brushed off his aches and pains. Even now he stands here, telling you not to worry. He gives you a sheepish smile, brushing a hand through your hair soothingly.
  “It’s wash night. Let me wash your hair for you?” He asks. You smile, but shake your head before pulling him to the shower.
  “I was hoping I could take care of you tonight.” You say. Kurt simply chuckles in response, following you into the warm stream of water. You start by washing his hair, being careful around his ears and eyes when you rinse. Kurt has no complaints as you lavish him with attention, almost purring as you wash him and cover him in suds. You turn him around to wash his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before continuing. You can’t help but be a little cheeky, hands trailing down south, teasing the skin around his hipbones before sliding back to grab a handful of his ass. Kurt jumps a little but only laughs, his tail swatting your hands away.
  “Cheeky.” He remarks, and you can tell he’s smiling. You let out a small “Can you blame me?” before your hands travel back around his front. You kiss the back of his neck sweetly as your hands wander up and down his abdomen. Kurt sighs as he leans back into you, relaxing in your arms.
  Your hands begin to wander, trailing down to his cock as you just barely brush your fingers along his length. Kurt gasps, tail curling around one of your thighs as his head leans back.
  “Schatz…”
  “Tell me to stop, and I will.” You whisper into his ear, hands moving to his thighs, tracing the sensitive skin. “I know you’re tired, so just… let me know.”
  “No... no. Please, continue.” He begs, the tip of his tail swaying idly between your thighs. You kiss the skin below his ear as you begin to caress him again, gently stroking him to hardness amongst the soapy suds. His gasps and choked moans are lighting a fire inside of you as you stoke the one in him. You nip and suck on the sensitive skin of his ear, addicted to the feeling of him against you, and the sounds he makes in your hold. 
  He lets out a curse as you thumb the head of his cock, collecting a bead of precum as you stroke it back down his shaft. Your other hand drifts a bit lower, teasing his balls before you give them a gentle squeeze. Kurt lets out a little “-ah!” and a whine as you build him closer and closer to the finish line. His cock twitches in your hands, his breath coming in shaky pants. His hands reach back for your thighs, clenching and unclenching as he reaches closer to his peak. You pick up the pace of your strokes, and he lets out a loud whine when he cums. You stroke and kiss him through it, sucking a hickey into his skin as his hips thrust and legs shake. His cum coats your fingers when you’re finished, sticky and creamy in consistency. 
  “Feel better?” You ask. Kurt chuckles in response, taking one of your hands in his own, still coated in his cum. He kisses it before ducking it into the stream of water, cleaning your hands off before he turns around and kisses you. His tail wraps around your waist as he draws you as close as possible, only letting you go once he's had his fill.
  “Let me have you,” He whispers. “Please.” You're breathless at the words, biting your lip as you think it over. You kiss him again, and then a second time for good measure.
  “I don't want you to strain yourself. You've had a long day.” You tell him. Kurt pouts at you. His tail tightens slightly around your waist. You sigh with a smile at the look he gives you, his eyes half-lidded and needy. 
  “Okay, but I just want you to lay back and relax, alright? Let me do the work.” Your palms are set on his pecs, slowly sliding up and down the area. “Let me take care of you for a change.” You whisper. Kurt smiles at you, his tail unwrapping from your waist as he backs you up to the wall of the shower. He's got you cornered into the wall, and he brings a hand up, shutting off the water after pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.
  “As you wish.” He says.
  It's hard to keep up with what's happening between the shower and the bed, but once his back hits the sheets, you're engulfing him in love and praise, thankful to have him home and happy to serve him pleasure on a silver platter.
“You're so pretty, Kurt.” You hum, actively kissing across his fuzzy abs, a hand tracing the soft hair of his happy trail as you pay extra attention to the deep bruises he came home with. Kurt’s chest heaves, his hands clenching the pillow at his head as you lavish him in attention. The sight of him was stunning. Deep blue skin and pretty black curls… Kurt gasps underneath you as you drag your teeth bluntly across his nipple, and you can't help but smile at the sound. He's rock hard underneath you, flushed a pretty purple at his tip as his cock stands at attention. You don't let him stay painfully hard, stroking him slowly to scratch that itch he so desperately deserves to have scratched. 
  One of his hands unclenches from the pillow as you start to press kisses to his cock, teasing and licking the skin. The limb flexes by his hip, and you take the invitation to lace his fingers between your own. It was a bit awkward to figure out when the two of you first started dating, but there was no mountain you weren't willing to climb if it meant returning the love he gave you in such abundance. You know he would do the same for you if the roles were reversed. You stroke him a few final times, kissing the sensitive head of his cock and sucking it into your mouth as one last effort to hear him whine before you’re straddling him.
  You grind your wet folds against his cock, perhaps a little more sensitive than usual. Kurt's lost in a world of pleasure, desperately trying to keep his eyes open to watch you. You're absolutely soaked, already feeling like you could take him in entirely, but you continue to grind against him, spreading your slick across his shaft to make sure that there won't be any struggle on either end. His other hand comes down to rest on your hip, kneading the skin as you move. You squeeze your intertwined hands, resting your free one on top of the one he's placed on your hip.
  “I love your hands, you know that?” You murmur. Kurt responds with a moan as his hips jerk up, moving against yours. “-and your arms, your tail, and fuzz and- a-ah…” You bite your lip as the head of his cock catches on your clit. You're beginning to get impatient, even though you were the one who chose this pace in the first place. He just felt so good and warm against you- hitting all the right spots without even being inside you yet.
  “Please, love, let me- hng… I enjoy your words, and your praise, but perhaps too much. Spare me, please.” Kurt breathes. His grip on your hip has gotten rather tight, his tail winding around your thigh once again, like he does when he doesn't quite know what to do with it. He's waiting for you, you realize, and you want to do nothing more than kiss him silly.
  Instead, you do exactly what he asks for, and spare him. The head of his cock notches against your slit before he slides in without any effort, settling in comfortably for the both of you. Both of your moans greet the air at the action, surprised at the utter lack of resistance. You'd think that you'd have to be well prepared for this kind of thing, but no, seems that all you needed was Kurt.
  “That was… You feel…” Kurt’s struggling to get the words across, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure. You're trying your hardest not to balance yourself by leaning on him as you begin to slowly work your hips.
  “Believe- me, you did most of the -ah- work, handsome.” You say breathlessly. Kurt’s yellow eyes flicker open as you start moving earnestly, watching you ride him with conviction. Both of you moan when he happens to hit that spongy spot inside of you that feels so good. 
  “Danke, danke… Love- ah, fuck!” Kurt moans, his voice coming out breathlessly toward the end of his sentence. He doesn't curse like that very often, and it makes a flicker of heat light you up from the inside.
  “So good Kurt, you feel so good.” You gasp, each bounce of your hips causing his cock to stroke your insides just right. His hand on your hip begins to move up to your waist before it goes further to just barely brush against your sensitive nipples. You gasp again at the feeling, letting out an almost embarrassing moan.
  You're caught by surprise as Kurt is sitting up, letting go of your other hand to push you against him. He leans forward, his tail now flicking excitedly behind him as he sucks and nips at the skin of your chest. You rest your hands against his shoulders as you pick up the pace of your hips, addicted to the feeling of Kurt’s hums and moans as he sucks on your nipples.
  “I’m…I'm close-” Kurt barely separates from your body to say the words, his hands clenching against you has he begins to tense and twitch.
  “Ye-Yeah?” You ask, one hand tangling itself in his still-damp hair. “Okay, handsome- ah- I've got you.” You can feel him begin to twitch inside of you, each and every movement bringing both of you to your peaks. Kurt lets go of your chest as he kisses his way up to your mouth, catching you in an urgent and passionate kiss.
  “Cum for me, please.” You say in between his kisses. He simply moans in response as your hips begin to falter, a telltale sign that you're about to reach that sweet, sweet pleasure.
  Kurt cums first, tensing and shaking underneath you as spurts of his cum warm your insides. He brings a thumb to your clit to help you meet your own orgasm as you work him through his. Stars flash in your eyes as you hit that peak of pleasure, grinding against him, once, twice, three more times before you collapse against his chest. Kurt chuckles contently beneath you, rubbing your back and kissing the parts of you he can reach as you rest against him.
  “You okay?” You ask the moment you're back down to earth again. “I didn't hurt you in any way, did I?” Kurt shakes his head at you, leaning back to look you in the eyes.
  “No, not at all, Liebling.” He says fondly. “I'm not sure you could if you tried.” You can't help but smile at that, sighing into him as you rest against his chest. It feels good to have him back. He slips out of you before he lays both of you back down against the cushions, where you take your chance to pepper his face with kisses.
  “Ich liebe dich.” He says softly. “So much. Much more than you know.”
  “I love you more.”
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scarletssienna · 7 months
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Beggin' for Footnotes
Summary - Some things aren’t meant to last forever. And despite you and Wanda loving each other you’re not sure if it’s going to work out anymore. 4.0k word count
Warnings - Hurt (not much comfort), heavy angst, swearing, mommy Wanda, oral, fingering, face slapping, sub!reader, degradation, praise, begging, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, hair pulling, mean Wanda, edging, face-sitting, thigh riding
AN - This is my first post on here! I’ve done writings in the past but I thought I’d try a new format and space to post it! :)) I plan on continuing this if I can find the energy lol!
Part 2
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18+, minors + men dni
Not every love was supposed to last. No matter how great, how wonderful, sometimes things still end. You knew Wanda like the back of your hand. And she knows you all the same. So when one of her vices came up after one of your worst fights, you could only watch. Wanda stood out on the back porch. Cigarette between her two fingers as she stared off into the darkness. There was this empty sickening in both of your stomachs that this may be the end. At this point, all options and solutions had been exhausted. You knew it was time. You watched out the kitchen window, unable to tear your eyes away as she slowly inhaled before a large cloud of smoke dissipated into the air, the cold temperatures enhancing it. Your fingers squeezed the sponge from the sink as soapy water flooded between your fingers. The dishes had been long forgotten lately as neither of you had had the energy to wash them. This was unusual for Wanda as she liked to keep the house showroom ready at all times. You forcefully ripped your eyes away from her as you began to wash the dishes, trying to make up for anything you could. To fix what you could in this messy situation. 
The house that had once been so loud with laughter and joy now lingered in empty silence. Your playlist of every song you two had loved played softly over the speakers around the house. If it had been several months ago you would have pulled her closely in your arms, dancing around the kitchen despite her laughs and teases about how cheesy it was. Her nose would crinkle as you sang along in Sokovian to one of her favorite songs. You butchered the pronunciation, but you would try, she could tell. She would have given in eventually and threaded her hands in your hair as she rested her forehead against yours. You would have kissed her, kissed her as if she was going to leave the second you let go. In this reality, she very well might.
You watched out the window again for a moment before getting distracted by the dish you were washing. The knife in your hands harshly tore against your flesh and you quickly dropped the knife into the sink, a soft yelp leaving your lips. You backed away quickly as blood began to drip down your hand. It was a quick scramble for the kitchen towel as you tried to stop the bleeding. Wanda had always been there to comfort you when you were injured in the past. You bit the inside of your cheek trying to stop it as tears quickly began to fall on your face. You let off a soft sob as you abandoned the dishes, heading upstairs to your shared bedroom. Hurrying into the bathroom you discarded the bloodied towel onto the sink countertops and washed the wound before messily bandaging it up. You had never been very good at doing it yourself so Wanda had always insisted on caring for you but you didn't think that was very well an option at this point. 
Tears flooded down your face as the events from the night tore your heart into shreds. You were no longer crying due to the injury. It was a different kind of pain. You stumbled over to the bed and threw your pants onto the floor before climbing into your side of the bed. The sheets were quickly pulled up to your chin as your hand covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs. Quickly, you drifted off into a tired and pained sleep. 
When Wanda returned inside she hadn't expected to see dishes washed especially as she investigated further and saw the drops of blood on the floor and a bloody knife in the sink. Despite the fight, she still cared and loved you. She quickly rushed upstairs in an attempt to find you. When she noticed the door slightly ajar and silence in the room she quietly peaked her head in. She sighed relieved when she saw you asleep in bed, seemingly uninjured from her view. The smell of cigarettes covered her and she wandered quietly off to the bathroom to take a shower, shutting the bathroom door behind her. For everyone but you her walls were high. She hardly let anyone in. and when she did, it felt as if it always ended this way. The feeling of being cursed towards relationships had set in. She washed her hair, going over the fight in her head as she wondered what could have gone differently, how she could save it. If it was even worth it at this point. 
Tensions had been rising over the past couple of weeks. You both had been working too much recently and had hardly had time for one another. It seemed as if every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, sleep, repeat. It had been killing you both. The littlest things set you both off. It would end up in screaming matches and sleeping alone every time. What set you both over the edge this time was not so little. Natasha, your mutual friend, had begun flirting with you. While she respected your relationship, she had always believed you two were not good for each other. So when you fought last week and you ended up at her house she had done nothing but comfort you. You thought nothing of Natashas' intentions but Wanda knew otherwise. This had sent her into a fit of rage when Natasha dropped you off this morning and kissed your cheek goodbye. 
You both fought for hours, arguing about anything that came to mind, but mainly Natasha. Had you understood and been able to read her mind as well, you would have understood her intentions and sided with Wanda, not seeing Natasha anymore. But you couldn't and this frustrated Wanda. When she attempted to control your mind you quickly noticed and this sent you two further down the line of fighting. You hated it when she used her powers on you. When you thought to yourself that you wished you could just forget everything that had happened Wanda broke. She had misunderstood. Thinking you had meant forgetting her. Silence fell over the fight and she went outside to have a cigarette. Her thoughts consumed her as her heart hurt. 
With how often the fights had been recently as well as how busy you've been, you'd not been intimate in weeks. The tension begins to tear you both apart. When she finished her shower she pulled on an old t-shirt and shorts before popping her head out the bathroom door to check if you were still sleeping. When she saw you, she had to determine what to do. Did she sleep with you? Or did she go to the guest room? She decided that you wouldn't want her in bed and quietly tip-toed to the guest room based on what she had misunderstood. That night she cried herself to sleep as well. 
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
When you woke up the next morning you sat up groggily and sighed to yourself as you didn't see Wanda in bed, the memories of the night prior sinking in. Despite your anger you went to see where she had slept for the night, mostly just wanting to make sure she hadn't ended up locked out on the porch freezing to death. You saw her asleep in the guest room, her makeup smudged and muddled from tears, and her shower. You sighed and went back to your room to get ready for the day. It was unusual for you to be up first and you made use of it, quietly leaving for work before she awoke. 
You returned home late that night, having gone to the bar after work with a few co-workers to unwind and relax. All you could think about was Wanda and the ache between your legs grew. You were mad, but maybe you needed that. You quietly entered the house, making a note to lock the door behind you before heading to find Wanda. You weren't extremely intoxicated, but the anger, lack of quality sleep, stress, and tequila were having a bit of an impact. You could tell she had been home for a couple of hours, the discarded takeout garbage by the trash. Suddenly she caught your eye outside on the back porch. Of course, she was smoking again. You thought to yourself before acting on impulse. You went to the door and harshly pulled the sliding door open. She let out a startled gasp that didn't happen often as she always seemed aware of your presence. 
“Get inside.” You said firmly in a tone that had been unusual for you to take on with her. You had always been the more submissive in the relationship. The words shocked you both a little. She obliged anyway, out of more surprise than anything. She put the cigarette out before coming inside. You shut the door behind her, looking into her eyes before quickly pressing her against the door in a bruising kiss. She yelped out of surprise before kissing back, her hands tangling into your hair. She ignored the taste of tequila on your lips as she knew she tasted like cigarettes and couldn't defend herself for that. 
You made quick work of snaking your hand underneath her shirt, groping her chest as your tongues began to fight. She had never seen this level of dominance out of you. While it surprised and intrigued her, she couldn't have it. You both knew you were just trying to get a reaction out of her as it had been entirely too long since you two had done anything together. Her hand tightened with a grip of your hair as she roughly pulled your head back, quickly beginning to kiss and nip at your neck. You let out a moan as she tugged at your hair, stumbling backward slightly as she pushed you off of her. 
“Upstairs. “ She muttered firmly. You could see the darkness in her eyes and did not question it, quickly moving upstairs to your room. The past few weeks your dynamic had been shallow and lacking. You both needed rules in life. You need a guideline to follow, and she needs an outlet of control. When you got upstairs you looked around the room, taking several deep breaths before going to crack a window to get some airflow. Your jaw clenched as you took a few deep breaths trying to focus on relaxing. You closed the curtains forcefully, a little too forcefully perhaps as they, along with the curtain rod came tumbling down. Your heart sank as tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall as you knew Wanda would be mad. As you heard her footsteps approach you quickly tugged off your shirt, tossing it in a pile alongside your discarded pants. You had already dug your grave and it was getting deeper. Thoughts raced through your head about what punishment would come. The more you thought the more your legs pressed together for any kind of release you could gain. Just as you sat down on the bed the door swung open. “What the hell was that?” She asked. Her voice was angry and her accent began to peak through her words as she spoke. Her head quickly turned and noticed the window. “Did you do this?” she asked in almost a patronizing tone. She knew you did it, the guilt on your face was obvious. 
You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth as she spoke, gnawing on it nervously as you considered your options. Slowly, you shook your head, the hesitation clear as tears brimmed your eyes. She walked over to you, one eyebrow raised in a way that she knew made you weak in the knees. She raised her hand before a loud echoing slap hit your cheek. You let out a moan and pressed your legs together harder as tears finally fell.  “Lying gets you nowhere. I'll ask you again, Detka.” she paused, faining tenderness as she wiped a tear away from your face. “Did you do this?” every word she spoke was drawn out and stern as she raised her eyebrow and held your chin in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. Slowly you began to nod, bracing yourself for the slap you knew was about to come. When she raised her hand a slap did not come. Instead, she giggled at your flinch and reached down, snapping your bra snap on your shoulder. “This is what happens when little girls try to do things that are too big for them,” she spoke slowly, making sure each word sunk in. “You didn't even have time to fully undress for Mommy.” she shook her head and snapped your bra strap once again before pushing you to lay back on the bed. She climbed on top of you, straddling one of your thighs as she ground her hips, working herself up. 
“Please Mommy,” you whined out softly as your hips raised into her, begging for any amount of pleasure you could get. Another slap fell hard across your cheek and you felt your thoughts slowly drift further into a fuzzy headspace. You moaned at the feeling. Her hand was wet from the tears that had fallen down your face and she made it a point to wipe her hand on your bare stomach. 
“I didn’t permit you to speak. Did I?” She asked firmly as she leaned down, kissing and nipping at your neck. You shook your head frantically as you struggled to keep your hands by your sides.  She slid her hands back up your stomach and muttered under her breath. “Good girl.” Before pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts. She wasted no time as she quickly kissed down towards your chest, taking the small bud into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around your nipple as her hand snaked down into your panties, finally touching you where you needed it most. She gasped dramatically and pulled her head up, locking eyes with you when she felt your wetness. Your face turned a deep shade of red as she proceeded to tease and taunt you for how wet you had been at her from only just slapping and teasing you. All of your thoughts were consumed by her in a fuzzy bliss. 
Without warning she slipped two fingers inside of you easily. Her fingers made quick work of pumping in and out, stretching and curling them just where you needed it most. You moaned loudly and wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her body closer to you as you hid your face in her shoulder, biting down softly on the tender flesh. This depicted a soft moan from Wanda as her hips jerked slowly against your thigh. She pulled her body back with a grin as she began to bite softly across your jaw. 
“Let me see your pretty face baby. I want to see you while I fuck you.” She said her fingers worked faster, her thumb reaching up to touch your throbbing clit. You blushed red as you looked into her eyes. The moon was shining through the window casting a moonlit glow across her face, a smirk forming across it. Just as quickly as she worked you up to an orgasm, she stopped. She pulled her hand away quickly and you found yourself frantically reaching for her wrist as your hips jerked underneath her.
“No! Mommy!” You yelled out exasperated as tears fell quickly from your eyes at the loss of sensation. She smirked down at you, her tongue slowly licking her lips. 
“You didn't think I'd let you cum that quickly after what a brat you've been the past few weeks little girl?” She asked in a patronizing manner as she pulled her hand out of your panties and brought her fingers to her lips. You moaned at the sight, her tongue licking her fingers clean, making a show of the process. Her fingers then slid into your mouth and you groaned at the taste of your arousal mixed with her. Your tongue swirled around her fingers as you proceeded to suck her fingers. 
“Please Mommy.” was all you could seem to muster out after she pulled her fingers out of your mouth. Your mind was clouded and fogged and just where Wanda wanted it. 
“Silly me,” she smiled as she looked down. “Mommy has been giving you all the pleasure, she completely forgot to undress.” she motioned towards her clothes before standing up. You groaned and reached for her when she stood, no longer touching you. You let out a soft murmur as your hands grabbed at her shirt, pressing your legs together. She stripped before walking back towards you. She tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them towards the pile of clothes before doing the same with your bra. You couldn't help but notice the wetness that had soaked Wanda's panties and now glistened her thighs. Your mouth watered at the sight as all you wanted to do was taste her. 
You knew how often you had fought lately and how the arguments left you due for punishment. You just weren't exactly sure what form it would take. Anticipation flooded through your body as you looked up into her eyes, your eyes wide and innocent. 
“You're going to eat me out until I cum, maybe then I'll give you what you want,” she stated firmly as she squeezed at your hips. Her touches were not gentle. Her fingers dug into your tender flesh, all of her anger, stress, and tension coming out onto you. You moaned at the touch, more sensitive and aware with each touch and mark she left across your body. She let go with a slap to your thigh and you groaned at the loss of her. You sat up and watched as she moved around the room, sitting on the bed in the middle, spreading her legs for you as she watched with dark eyes. “Come make Mommy feel good.” Her voice dripped with arousal as her words of encouragement enticed you further, not that it took much at this point though.
Quickly you moved and settled yourself between her legs. You slowly began kissing up her thighs, licking the path of arousal she had left for you. She grumbled impatiently above you, clearly already ready for attention where she needed it. Her hand snaked through your hair, gently at first as it stroked your scalp. She then grabbed a fistful, tugging your hair harshly as she forced you up higher, pushing your head between her legs. At the tug, you let out a loud moan as you cursed under your breath. You got the hint and stuck out your tongue quickly getting work between her legs. Your tongue licked up her slit before it brought fast attention to her clit. You brought your fingers up and slipped two fingers inside of her. You were kinder than Wanda had been to you, moving your fingers less harshly and aggressively. It worked nonetheless as she quickly rose to an orgasm with the combination of both your fingers and tongue. Her grip on your hair did not loosen as her hips began to jerk against your face. As she reached her peak she let out a loud moan, her hips moving frantically as she tugged harshly at your hair. The taste that hit your tongue made you moan as you quickly lapped up as much as she would allow before pulling your head away. 
Her chest rose and fell heavily as she caught her breath, a gentler hand moving to your neck. You leaned up her body as you kissed her passionately. When her tongue slid across your bottom lip and your mouth you eagerly allowed it entrance. A smile grew across her face as she pulled away. You whined at the loss but it was quickly relieved when she pressed a singular finger to your lips. 
“Mommy.” You moaned out as your hips began to grind against her stomach. Her hand snaked down her stomach to touch you, her fingers ghosting over your clit. 
“Come sit on my face Detka.” She said firmly as she adjusted her positioning, letting your thighs rest next to her head. You were hesitant yet eager as you slowly lowered yourself down, moaning loudly as her tongue finally made contact. Your hips jerked against her face as you ground against her tongue. You were worked up quickly, faster than ever as she seemed to know exactly where you needed it. She mumbled out from underneath you as she worked you up towards an orgasm. “Beg for it, Malyshka.”
Quickly words began to tumble out of your mouth as desperation to cum was needed. “Please, Mommy. Please!” You practically yelled as your hips jerked more, her nails digging into your thighs. “Please let me cum.” You begged. She complied with a grin.
“Cum for Mommy, Detka.” She said as her tongue moved rapidly beneath you. Instantly you reached your peak, reaching for the bead frame in front of you to steady yourself as you moaned loudly. When Wanda felt you had settled enough she gently pulled you down next to her and into her arms. You shook a little in Wanda's arms as she held you for the first time in weeks. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she slowly combed through the mess she had made, taking time to massage your scalp. All the thoughts of your fights had completely melted away and you were consumed by her and her embrace. 
“Mommy.” You murmured as tears began to fall on your cheeks again, your face nuzzling closely in the crook of her neck.
“You did so good baby, so good.” She praised quietly as she kissed behind your ear. Her fingertips found a gentle pattern of scratching up and down your back with one hand while the other massaged where she pulled your hair. Praise was whispered into your ear as she held you closely, not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. Slowly your sobs calmed and you settled into her embrace, slowly lifting your head to leave soft kisses across her jaw and neck. 
“I love you, Wanda.” The words left your mouth for the first time in weeks and a soft smile crept across your lips. Wandas' face glimmered with love as she pulled you into a kiss. 
“I love you too, Detka.” She whispered through kisses as she could only hold you closer. After a while of the silent embraces Wanda's thoughts of the fights crept back into memory. “We’re going to be okay.” She hesitated and looked towards you. “Right?” She spoke softly, her voice filled with fear at the thought of losing you. You nodded and kissed her softly, your mind foggy and cloudy as all you wanted was to be close to her. That night you slept close, tangled up in each other's love, neither wanting to pull away.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
The next morning when you woke up snuggled up in Wanda's arms felt different. The bliss that usually followed had dissipated and all you could think about was the pain of being with her. You gained a sinking pit in your stomach as guilt and fear coursed through your body. The flight response kicked in. You couldn't be with her, not now. Tears began to fall as you quickly but carefully left the bed and Wanda's embrace. Hurriedly you moved for some clothes as you threw on the closest things you could find without waking her. You reached for the door handle but paused. One glance back to Wanda confirmed it. You couldn't be here. So where did you go? Who greeted you with open arms? Natasha.
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islandofsages · 7 months
Note
HEYY!! I love your writing from what i've read and i was wondering if i could ask for a gn reader (yuu) teaching the housewardens about like classic fandom lore- like imagine them turning into matpat to explain fnaf and undertale!! 😭😭 feel free to not do this and have a good day!! Thanks :D
characters: housewardens x gn!yuu
tags: platonic, fluff, crack kinda, imagines format
warnings: swearing
author's notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG also all the fandoms mentioned here are all fandoms ive been in at some point :D fun times mhm
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Riddle Rosehearts
He knows you’re very passionate about fandom culture but you never really had the chance to infodump about it to him
Until one day, you drop by Heartslabyul for a leisurely visit, when you see a not-so-clearly distressed Riddle sitting in the lounge
Not-so-clearly meaning he’s holding a teacup in his hand yet not drinking it, eyes closed as if he’s holding in all his emotions
You grow worried at this sight and slide next to him on the couch where he is seated, hoping you can help alleviate some of that stress
He sees you and he allows himself a sigh, then musters up a smile for you. He greets you and you cut straight to the point - can you help him with anything?
He releases a second sigh and shakes his head, telling you he only needs some sort of distraction. He just had a long day and needs to take his mind off things
You take a second to think of things that you can distract him with – that’s when a lightbulb goes off in your head. This is a prime opportunity for you
“Okay, I’m guessing you haven’t heard of Five Nights at Freddy’s since it’s a franchise from my world and all but the lore is crazy. So it starts like this…”
He wasn’t expecting to be paying much attention to the contents of what you’re saying but sooner or later, he ends up leaning towards you with his hand cupping his chin, mouth slightly agape at the story you’re telling
This inspires you to dump even more information about the media somehow at the rate that you’re going
By the end of it, he’s completely forgotten what he was so worried about. His head is full of creepy pizzerias for kids and haunted animatronics
He ends up having some trouble sleeping that night though. He’ll get you for that later.
Leona Kingscholar
He won’t lie, your interest in fandoms is too reminiscent of Idia for him – he doesn’t admit this to you obviously, since he hasn’t had the chance to
But on one particularly boring day, you decide to skip class with him and he lets you tag along for the hell of it
In the span of three seconds, he’s already off in dreamland. Sometimes you wish you had such a skill
Since you have nothing better to do and he’s way too deep in his sleep to even care anyway, you start rambling to yourself and a slumbering Leona
“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about Undertale lately so I need to dump it all somewhere. So basically you play as this kid…”
Little do you know halfway through his nap, he wakes up from how much you’re talking. At first, he’s annoyed by your yapping but then he grows interest in what you’re saying
He’s almost tempted to try that game for himself and almost disappointed that it’s not available in Twisted Wonderland. Emphasis on almost.
When you’re done rambling, that’s when he stretches his arms over his head and yawn, commenting how noisy you were
You shrug it off. You're used to him complaining about you yapping instead of napping alongside him
…But then he asks you to tell him more about Undertale, if there's any more information you’re keeping from him out of the kindness of your heart
You smile smugly at this and his expression seems to say “don't make me regret asking” but oh, you definitely will make him regret even being friends with you in the first place
Needless to say, regrets were not the only thing he held at the end of that day.
Azul Ashengrotto
Similar to Leona, your fixation on fandom culture reminds him too much of Idia. not that that’s necessarily a bad thing - it’s more of an observation
And he gets more than an observation when you get the chance to show him what you’re made of: useless fandom culture and gaming knowledge
Speaking of Idia, he goes to you as a last resort to ask you to help him understand whatever the hell Idia’s talking about
You don’t know too much about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture just yet but when Azul explains the premise of a certain game and its fandom, it gives you an idea
“Sounds pretty similar to Yandere Simulator. Ooh, that one has a lot of history. Let me tell you about it…”
Unfortunately for him, he ended up unlocking your geekiness instead of having you address the things he was confused with
But at least your story makes it a bit easier to understand? He’s yet to decide that really but at least it sounds like you’re taking his lack of slang knowledge into consideration
Your infodump really gripped his attention though - it’s interesting to know another side of human culture, even if it’s not the humans of Twisted Wonderland
He would nod understandingly (or at least, politely) and thank you and your geekiness
He relays your story to Idia and finds it intriguing how similar fandom culture is in both Twisted Wonderland and your world
He would invite you to Board Game Club meetings so that you can rave and find out more about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture with Idia
He’d realize that was a big mistake and he may or may not have created the nerdiest pair in the world - but you guys are his nerdiest pair in the world.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s very curious about fandom culture - he doesn’t know too much about it nor anyone who knows a lot about it so almost all the fandom information in his head are from you
He really wants to know more!!! So of course that warrants a hangout session fabricated as a study session to get Jamil’s stamp of approval
So there you are in his room, books laid out in front of the two of you but most importantly, a laptop
You two watch about a dozen videos on Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture and as you absorb all the very-much-useful information, you sneak in tidbits from the culture of your world
“This one in particular is reminiscent of Danganronpa. Man, that one was a wild ride…”
It’s exciting to be able to talk about it with someone you trust wholeheartedly, especially Kalim, whom you know wouldn’t be so judging
He only nods in understanding at every point you made, his eyes sparkling with all the curiosity in his body
You were on your thirteenth video when you two are interrupted by a rap on the door and an unfortunately-familiar voice
So obviously you and your bestie hurriedly rush to close all the tabs on your laptop and open up something more academically-inclined
Which is obviously a…dictionary site
Jamil blinks twice at this, says nothing (but probably noting how it makes sense for you guys since you two are bumbling idiots) and walks away
If there’s any dictionary being read that day, it’d be a dictionary of fandom terminology, that’s for sure.
Vil Schoenheit
He doesn’t know too much about it - and doesn’t bother to learn much about it since he has better things to do - but since it’s you, he tries his best to be a good listener
The two of you sit down in the courtyard one day, the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves music to your ears; beauty truly is everywhere around you when you’re next to him
He’s talking about something. You’re not sure what because you’re entranced by the way his hair hangs above his eyes so elegantly. He notices this and calls you out for it
You shrug and excuse how you can’t help it - he’s like a dating simulator love interest in the real. He asks you what you mean by this. Now’s your chance to shine!
“Hmm, you know, something like Mystic Messenger? Hehe, let me tell you a bit about it…”
Unluckily for him, your “a bit” turns out to be a four-hour long ramble about the aforementioned dating simulator a little too reminiscent of Rook for his liking too
Despite his reservations, he really did enjoy hearing you talk so passionately about your interest; it’s a bonus that the topic itself is interesting
He tells you he wouldn’t mind trying out the game or at least finding out more about it though unfortunately it’s not available in Twisted Wonderland
You share his shame - until he says he’ll pitch the concept of the game to some authorities he know and perhaps make it a reality
Sorry, he’s going to what now?
You’re a little shaken. Sometimes you forget he’s a world-class model, despite his looks and mannerisms. You save your nerves for if a Twisted Wonderland version of Mystic Messenger actually ends up happening
He thanks you for enlightening him about fandom and video gaming culture. You use this as a cue to add another four hours of ranting about V’s route in the game.
Idia Shroud
You’re another victim for him to taint… or so he thought. You’re more of an ally than a victim at this point, considering how nerdy you are
He’d dump fandom lore on you and you’d reciprocate it right back. He’s genuinely so impressed with your knowledge, even if they differ by some degree due to being from different worlds
He gets more impressed when you pull up with knowledge about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture like damn, you really brushed up on your talking points already
Friendly rivalry aside, he really does enjoy talking about fandom culture with you and hearing about the things from your world - every story you tell adds a little color into his world
One day, the two of you are leaning on each other, on your phones because of course you are, even if you two are friends, talking still isn’t Idia’s strong suit
That’s when you blurt it out–
“Hey, wanna hear about this game called Persona? It’s a turn-based RPG and…”
Regardless of his response to your question, you ended up babbling away either way. It’s how conversations start between the two of you
You’re speaking so fast, he would have mistaken you for a rapper - or a doppelganger of himself even
Consider him entertained - he finds himself smiling by the end of your yapping and intrigued by your story
He then obviously starts to relate it to something from Twisted Wonderland, passing the listener baton to you
You don’t mind – you can stay there for hours and hours, just going back and forth with your fellow nerdy-ass friend.
Malleus Draconia
This man barely knows how to use a smartphone so you had to be a little patient with him when guiding him through the fandom culture trenches
He’s happy that you trust and cherish him enough to talk about your interests with no reservations or shame – and the feeling is mutual
On a certain weekend, the two of you are hanging out as usual. Chatting as friends would do
You don’t know why but the conversation reminded you of a certain fandom
“It’s kinda like Genshin’s community, I guess. They’re a riot, let me tell you that.”
Oh? What’s a Genshin and why is its community a riot?
You’re glad he asked – because you’ve prepared a 100-slide presentation on the history of the game and its fans
He asks you why and how did you find the time to make that. You tell him to shut up and that it doesn’t matter, he just needs to listen to you
You start and it feels like you’ll never stop – there’s just so much to say and Malleus has so much time in the world
Seeing his reactions to certain events makes you crack up and at times, you’d laugh at his shocked expressions (or sigh exhaustively, depending on the event you’re explaining)
When you finally stop, he gives you a one-man standing ovation. You blush a little at the attention and unexpected reaction but you appreciate his sentiment nonetheless. He tells you that your presentation has been very informative for him
You’re relieved to have been able to get that off your chest… and Malleus is more than ecstatic to relay the information to everyone he’s ever known. You obviously pretend that you had no involvement in his sudden investment of a game from another world.
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imgeekgirlfan · 15 days
Text
The Curse of Cassandra [EP : VI]
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Read in Ao3 : here
Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]
Content waring : 18+ smut/nsfw, manipulation, fingering, p in v, virgnity loss, unprotected sex, creampie (Just asking for a friend: Do the Bene Gesserit need a condom?🤔)
tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers
Summary: On your twentieth birthday, after spending nearly three years with Qimir, you finally decide to reveal your secret to him. And from that moment, your relationship with him will never be the same again.
Status: work in progress (This is a long fanfic that will be about 10+ chapters.)
A/N : As mentioned, This fan fiction mixes elements from two universes, so some details might not match canon perfectly. I’ve made adjustments but will try to keep key canon elements intact. I hope you read this for enjoyment, not to nitpick details.
ps. Writing smut in English is rather demanding for me. I hope you can forgive any mistakes in this EP. I’ve done my best 😭
➡  Intro // EP : I // EP : II // EP : III // EP : IV // EP : V // EP : VII
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[Episodes 6] Four things cannot be hidden—love, smoke, a pillar of fire and a man striding across the open bled.
On your twentieth birthday, after spending three years with Qimir, you finally decide to reveal your secret to him.
There is no point in hiding it any longer, especially after he has already seen something he shouldn’t have on that ship. Besides, you no longer wish to conceal it. That near-death experience has changed your perspective—not just on your own feelings but also on the visions that have surfaced from deep within your subconscious. Through the fog of time, you sense profound changes—both in the future paths and in the bond between you and him.
A bond you never wanted to form. Feelings you wish to deny. But no matter how hard you try, in the end, you can’t escape it.
Sometimes, fate has a strange way of twisting things—you can’t help but think that when you recall your first meeting. You hated Qimir with all the intensity of your feelings. You couldn’t stand him. There were moments you even plotted his death, planning to flee far away. But who would have thought that three years later, you’d find yourself lying in his arms on a small bed in a rundown hotel near the Starports on Olega, far removed from the bloody events on Tatooine.
You are uncertain if it can even be called love. But one thing is certain: Qimir's presence changes your life forever. He changes you. You change him. And you have no idea if it is for better or worse.
Resting your head on Qimir's chest, you let his large hand caress your back. It's strange how safe you feel with him, despite having witnessed him kill so many people.
But it's not just you who feels this way. Qimir doesn't seem to fear you either. His words are blunt and direct when he finally asks about what he's seen. "I saw what you did—you control people with just your words," Qimir says. "What exactly are you? A member of some witch's coven?"
He turns on his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, holding you close as if to comfort you from the terrifying events that have unfolded earlier. Yet at the same time, it is clear he intends to keep you there, preventing you from leaving until you answer his question honestly.
You know Qimir’s intent, but do not push back. You remain silent for a moment before replying.
"It is an ancient technique passed down by my people," you confess, feeling as though you are revealing a terrible sin to some forgotten god. "We use our voice to command others, bending their will to our desires." You pause before adding, "And no, I am not part of any witch’s coven. My mother said those covens are nothing but lowly imitators, trying to replicate what we truly are."
"Your people? What do you mean?" Qimir frowns, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. A wave of unease washes over you as you realize that the moment of truth is finally upon you.
“I am Bene Gesserit.”
Bene Gesserit—those words, foreign to most in this age, are known only to a select few who have studied ancient history.
According to old records, before the rise of the Jedi Order, the Bene Gesserit was a powerful religious order that held great power throughout the galaxy, known as the Sisterhood. They only accepted women deemed worthy into their ranks.
It is said that the Bene Gesserit were the true originators of the Force, passing down their teachings through generations. The Bene Gesserit sisters possessed mysterious powers and physical capabilities far beyond the reach of ordinary people. They could neutralize poisons within their own bodies, control others with the power of the voice, and train their minds and bodies to heights that defied natural limits. Some could even glimpse into the future with an eerie sense of prophecy, though only fragments of what was to come—except for the Reverend Mothers who led the order. They alone held the power to peer through the memories of their ancestors, journeying through the past, present, and distant future.
And it was this obsession with the visions they received that drove their beliefs. The Bene Gesserit were convinced that the universe was heading toward destruction, haunted by the prospect of a terrible future. Their only solution was to guide human evolution to its pinnacle through meticulous breeding programs that spanned generations. They strengthened their power by sending their sisters to marry and breed with the ruling houses of various planets, integrating themselves into the political and religious structures, and influencing every layer of society, from the lowest to the highest ranks—all for one ultimate goal: the creation of the Kwisatz Haderach, a superior human who transcended all others.
Yet ironically, it was the Kwisatz Haderach himself who brought about the very doom of the universe, which the Bene Gesserit had feared and attempted to avoid all along.
The Bene Gesserit succeeded in creating the Kwisatz Haderach as intended, but they utterly failed to control him. Paul Atreides, the only son of Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica of the Atreides, a Bene Gesserit sister, became a religious icon before he reached twenty. He was revered as the Lisan al Gaib—Voice from the Outer World—and was worshiped as a godhead. He led the Fremen, the ancient people of Arrakis, in a jihad that spread across the galaxy. Tens of millions perished in the holy war, and hundreds of millions more during the tyrannical rule of the Kwisatz Haderach’s own son.
Eventually, the Kwisatz Haderach's dynasty was annihilated by the vengeful masses, and the universe slowly began to heal, giving rise to numerous new sects, including the Jedi Order.
The Bene Gesserit were said to have vanished during this time, and rumors of their demise were widespread. Some claimed that the Kwisatz Haderach, driven by his hatred for the Sisterhood, had eradicated them entirely, while others believed they were blamed for the jihad and were hunted down by the vengeful populace.
Regardless of the cause, the true reason for the destruction of the Bene Gesserit was their overwhelming power and the mysterious goals they pursued. It was decided that the Bene Gesserit witches should no longer exist in the universe, as no one wanted to risk the emergence of a second Kwisatz Haderach.
For thousands of years, you have been the last Bene Gesserit. Although your skills and powers are far weaker than those of your ancestors due to a lack of proper training, you still surpass both Jedi and Sith. Your power is the source of the Force they wield—an ancient power that none can fully replicate unless they are also Bene Gesserit.
“I am not only a Bene Gesserit; I am also a Fremen,” you reveal, deciding to share another layer of your secret with him. You point to your deep blue eyes, the eyes of Ibad, the distinct mark of your ancient race, now long extinct along with the Bene Gesserit. “My Fremen name is Hara[1], a name known only to my mother."
You are surprised at yourself for disclosing your Fremen name to him. For the Fremen, a tribal name carries deep meaning and significance, given only to those who can be trusted completely.
However, you feel a sense of relief after finally speaking, though it's not complete. There are still secrets you haven’t shared with him, but revealing this much is already more than enough. You trust Qimir, but you are unsure how much of this truth he can truly accept. Deep down, you are terrified he might see you as a monster, shun you, or worse, decide to eliminate you like others might. Your very existence might be too dangerous to allow you to survive.
But Qimir says nothing. He appears deep in thought, his expression unreadable. You can’t discern his feelings, and the silence grows unbearable. Finally, you ask, 'Do you fear me now that you know who I am?'"
As the words leave your mouth, you bite your lip unconsciously while waiting for his reply, worry gnawing at you. How strange it is to be afraid of his rejection more than your own death."
"Fear?" Qimir tilts his head, puzzled by your question for a moment. Seeing your distressed expression, he quickly grasps your concern. "I have no reason to fear you," he says, stepping closer to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose. "I do not fear you," he emphasizes, sealing his words with a firm kiss on your lips.
You let Qimir kiss you a little longer. When he finally gives you a chance to catch your breath, you ask, 'Even though I am dangerous?' Your voice is barely a whisper, filled with uncertainty.
Everything feels too perfect and too smooth, and instead of providing reassurance, it only makes you feel more uneasy.
Qimir smiles widely, almost as if he wants to laugh but is holding it back. "Oh, in that case, it’s me you should fear more." He teases, his tone playful, as he resumes kissing you. Not on your lips, but now on your ear, nibbling playfully, while one of his hands moves up to your breast, caressing and teasing your nipple through the fabric with his thumb.
Your eyes widen as you realize what is about to happen. You grab Qimir’s arm, quickly halting his mischievous actions before things can go any further. “Qimir,” you call out his name, your heart pounding, your voice faltering with each shaky breath.
Qimir stops immediately, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. You see the clear reflection of desire in his dark eyes. “Don’t want to?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of pleading, though the playful smirk at the corner of his mouth suggests something more sly, as if he knows every thought in your mind without reading it, knowing that you won’t refuse.
His knowing demeanor makes you feel annoyed, but there is little you can do. In a situation like this, you are at a disadvantage in nearly every way.
“Well, I…” You try to speak but hesitate for a moment, your cheeks burning hot as if set aflame. You don’t know how to explain it to him without making yourself feel even more embarrassed. “I don’t know how... I’ve never... you understand, right?”
That isn’t entirely true. Even though you have never been intimate with anyone, you aren’t that naive. As a Bene Gesserit, you can see the past through ancestral memories, which sometimes bring you glimpses of things you shouldn’t see, intruding into your dreams. But dreams and reality are entirely different. You feel out of place, unsure of what to do, like someone who has read extensively but fails when it comes to practical application.
Qimir lets out a clear laugh, his sly smile shifting to one of genuine amusement, making you blush even more. Before you can protest, he seizes the moment and silences you with a kiss.
This time, though, it feels different.
Never before has a kiss between you two felt so deep and intense. His lips and tongue are sharp and distinct as they invade, filled with a potent desire that permeates every touch, burning with unwavering purpose, as if he wants to touch the very core of your being, reaching the true self you have never revealed to anyone.
When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t move far. His mouth lingers on your lips, and his hands gently cradle your cheeks. “Relax, don’t be afraid,” Qimir whispers, his lips trailing to your neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath your skin, then moving down to your chest. “I told you before, you don’t need to hide yourself when you’re with me.” His voice is soft, almost dreamlike, but every touch is real.
You follow his lead, as if under a spell, letting him undress you without resistance. His large hands roam over every part of your soft skin, planting kisses along the curves of your body, from your shoulders down to your hips, and finally to the inside of your thighs. His dark eyes examine your naked form without looking away, not missing a single detail, taking in every perfection and flaw—nothing hidden, nothing concealed.
“I want you to feel every emotion within you—anger, fear, and desire…” The word ‘desire’ from Qimir’s lips was as sweet as honey. “Embrace who you truly are, what you can be, and what you can do when you’re with me—only with me.”
You flinch as his fingertips brush against your delicate folds before sliding inside you. You can feel every knuckle as he slowly works his way deeper, one finger becoming two, gently stretching you as he allows you to grow accustomed to the sensation. He then begins to move them slowly, his thumb rubbing your bud, massaging every sensitive spot inside and out, sending shivers of unfamiliar pleasure through your body.
Waves of strange, stinging bliss ripple across your skin, making you restless as you writhe in the throes of sharp delight. But his other hand presses firmly on your lower abdomen, forcing you to stay still.
“Be a good girl,” Qimir admonishes, a grin tugging at his lips, clearly enjoying watching you struggle helplessly beneath him.
You moan, burying your face in the pillow, your entire body trembling with the intensity of your climax, making you feel like you are floating in a sea of stars. After catching your breath for a moment, you look up to see Qimir hastily removing his own clothes. His skin is pale, his body sculpted with lean, defined muscles, as beautiful as a statue in a temple. But what sets him apart are the scars, some small, some large, like cracks in marble. Yet these imperfections only make him more striking, unique, and beautiful.
Qimir turns to look at you, fully aware that you have been watching him the entire time. His face softens in the dim light, but his eyes remain dark. You sense the intense longing within them—a desire he’s harbored for a long time. You wonder why you never noticed the fragile restraint in him until now. He seems on the verge of snapping, as if he’s been wound too tight, ready to unravel at any moment.
Qimir wastes no time, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close until there’s no space left between you and him. His hardness presses firmly against the crevice of your thighs, the heat spreading through your body as his cock gradually sinks into your swollen slit, filling you completely.
A low moan escapes his lips, soft and barely audible. Qimir pauses briefly, giving you a chance to catch your breath and adjust. As he takes a moment to relish the closeness, he revels in the warmth of your tight, slick, silky walls that embrace his length perfectly.
"It might hurt at first, but it’ll get better soon. Just bear with it," he murmurs, his hand gently stroking your hair. He plants a warm kiss on your cheek, trying to comfort you as your face contorts with pain. It feels like he’s about to tear you apart as he pushes in fully. You lock eyes with him in shock as a flood of emotions washes over you—strange, frightening, painful, and thrilling all at once.
Your lips part, letting out a silent moan as Qimir begins to move, thrusting in to the hilt until you can feel every inch of him deep within you. He brushes away a stray lock of black hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His lips press a kiss to your sweat-dampened temple as his hips thrust forward, quickening the pace. Your soft inner walls tighten, clenching around him as his tip repeatedly hits your sweet spot.
By now, the pain has subsided, replaced by waves of pleasure building inside you, ready to explode.
Tears stream down your cheeks as you grip Qimir's shoulders as if your life depends on his mercy. Your hips rise to meet his movements, every fiber of your being striving to get closer to him, nearly melding into one.
The rhythm changes slightly, slowing down and becoming less steady but more forceful. You pant heavily, feeling the climax approaching, each movement bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.
Just a few more thrusts, and you both reach the peak together. He spills into you, his release filling you up and spilling over. The hot, wet feeling of his cum makes your body shiver and feel dizzy, still unaccustomed to these new sensations.
The room gradually returns to calm. When Qimir pulls away, your body suddenly feels light and empty, like weightless cotton. You drift in the calm afterglow, enveloped in his embrace as he nuzzles you, kisses your cheeks and forehead, and caresses your hair tenderly, just as lovers do."
But there are no words of 'love' from his lips. The last thing you hear from Qimir before slipping into sleep is, 'You’re no longer alone. You belong to me.”
Instead of feeling reassured by these words, a strange unease flickers through your mind, as if you've just stepped onto a path of grave mistake.
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[1] In Fremen culture (as depicted in the film Dune), Fremen names are special names that differ from regular ones, only shared with outsiders when there’s deep trust and acceptance. For example, Chani tells Paul her Fremen name, 'Sihaya,' as a sign of accepting him as a lover. That’s why the reader needs a Fremen name—it’s culturally important (and I certainly WILL NOT USE Y/N as a Fremen name, absolutely no way!). I’ve hinted at this name since EP : I (if you pay attention, you’ll notice it), and it ties into the story, so I hope you're okay with the name I picked.
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magpod-confessions · 4 months
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(look at me go, not asking anonymously for once lol)
“the web is underrated” “the buried is underrated” “the dark is the most underrated” 
yes. you are right, i agree. but they are all underrated. none of the fears get the attention they deserve.
-the dark and the end are almost completely forgotten about due to their perceived simplicity.
-the buried, the flesh, the hunt, etc are so unexplored, no one bothers to look any deeper into them.
-the desolation is not just fire, but no one ever tries to represent it some other way.
-don’t get me started on the whole spiral-distortion thing (perhaps i will make this a future confession bc oh boy do i have a lot to say).
with all of them people seem to be scared of diverging from the explicit canon representations.
no one seems to care about the fears anymore. THE fears. you know, the one thing that makes tma so special? i’ve lost count of the number of times i’ve seen someone say “after listening to tma i can never look at things the same. i always categorise them by the entities”
that’s all they are treated as, categories. perhaps this is an odd way to describe horrific manifestations of our deepest fears, but i think they are beautiful concepts. i could spend hours thinking about each one and the ways they bleed into one another, i probably have. 
yeah, at this point smirke’s 14 are old news, but there are always new angles to explore. we saw that in season 5 of tma, and we are seeing it now in tmagp (though the fears are of course different). why did we stop talking about that? (i wasn’t actually on tumblr when tma was happening so idk. maybe no one ever cared) 
talk about the fears, put your ideas for unconventional statements or avatar or whatever out there, there’s an audience (me at least). say stuff about how different fears crossover, or some new aspect of one. “but surely people would have already said this at some point” respectfully, i don’t give a shit. if i come across mutliple posts analysing a similar aspect of the vast, i’m going to be fucking overjoyed. because much of the fears is up to intepretation, they have slightly different meanings to different people, so every single person’s interpretation adds value and adds something unique. i see a little of this, but not enough.
we should keep discussing the fears. i don’t know why we ever stopped.
(sorry this is so long and rambling, i hope you can see the points i’m trying to make.)
🗣️ i’d love to hear your thoughts on this
Literally this. Agree with all of it
Some things:
The Desolation can be natural disasters, including floods, storms and earthquakes. Water is just as destructive as fire
The Dark can be not knowing something. It overlaps with the eye yes, but it still counts
The Corruption is shown to be a response to loneliness, not the opposite of it. Its being so lonely you seek out community, no matter how dangerous it may be. Every single corruption statement has references to loneliness
The Spiral says its a liar, but its never done that, only changing your perception of reality to make what it says true. It is delusion not manipulation
The Slaughter is never portrayed outside of war, which is strange because sheer unhinged violence has so much variety
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lulublack90 · 5 months
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Prompt 23 - Teacher AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 23, word count 966
Sirius had been a teacher for quite a few years, and while he loved teaching the children, his true passion lay in his evening classes. Once a week, he gave up his time to teach adults who wanted to learn and, for some reason, and Sirius was only too willing to help them. 
The class was just beginning. This week, they’d be going over the short story he’d asked them all to read as homework and make a start on one of their own. He’d been told there would be a new student joining them that evening. It was very irregular. Normally, there was a start date that you had to begin at and not come halfway through the course. He’d been assured that the young man had been keeping up at home, but his ongoing health condition had made it impossible to attend the previous classes. 
Sirius sighed when he read the email from the course manager but vowed to help the chap catch up.
He cleared his throat, and his class went quiet. 
“Good evening, everyone. I hope you’re all doing well. Let’s begin with a show of hands. Who’s read the homework?” A sea of hands rose in front of him, and he couldn’t keep the beaming smile off his face. “Excellent! Now, who can tell me why Nellie did what she did?” He pointed at a woman in the back row. “Alice, you’re up.” The short woman checked her notes and began to speak. 
“She was tired of her life and wanted to be free of the chains that kept her there.” 
“Exactly.” He turned and wrote on the whiteboard. “She was a prisoner, and she longed to be free. So when the chance came, she took it. Now, when Nellie escapes, she rushes into the jungle in the dead of night with nothing but a small trunk filled with her few possessions. Was this a good idea or not?” He waited for a hand to go up. He could almost see their brains whirring. The classroom door opened, and a mousy-haired man popped his head around the door. Sirius stared at him, his eyes greedily taking in the slightly flustered handsome man. 
“Are you Mr Black?” He asked politely. 
“Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?” Sirius’s professional brain snapped back on. The man grinned, looking relieved. 
“I’m so sorry I’m late. I’ve ended up in the wrong room twice, and no one seemed to be able to point me in the right direction.” He pushed the door open and hobbled in. He was leaning heavily on a walking stick and took the only empty seat at the front of the class. 
“Right, where were we?” He asked, having completely forgotten. The new man raised his hand. “Yes—er?” Sirius nodded for him to talk. 
“Remus. Remus Lupin.” Remus helpfully supplied. 
“Thank you, Remus.”
“I think the risk of staying captive was far greater than whatever awaited her in the jungle. However, taking anything other than food and water was risky, but as we know, it worked out for her.” He answered Sirius’s question. 
“Yes, well done. I dare say even if she’d met a tiger while she fled, it would still be preferable to that iron chain, don’t you agree, even weighed down as she was.” His class all nodded at him. “So now free and on the run, no forced to perform, no matter how good she was at the tasks they set her, what do you think made her go the way she did?”
Remus raised his hand again, and Sirius signalled for him to continue. 
“She went home. There could have been something familiar about the surroundings, which is why she escaped when she did. But the inner child in me wants to say it was magic.” Remus grinned shyly at him, and Sirius had to chant to himself that he couldn’t date students no matter how ruggedly handsome they were or how intelligent they seemed to be. He had to swallow before he continued. 
“Yes, I think we all want to believe it was magic, as though she heard her mother calling out to her across the many miles she travelled.” He cleared the whiteboard now they were done with that and wrote up the next part of the lesson. “Okay, I want each of you to write your own short story. It can be about literally anything you want. Make a start now. Plan it out. I want them finished for next week, and I’ll go through them.” 
He gave them a few minutes to start their work and made his way around the class, answering any questions they had. Eventually, he had to talk to Remus. He couldn’t put it off any longer. “How’s it going?” He asked, making Remus jump. He’d been so focused on his work that he hadn’t noticed Sirius approach. 
“Oh-er, it’s going good. I think.” Remus rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Sirius peered down at the paper. 
“A werewolf and a man who can magically turn into a dog and an enchanted forest? Sounds thrilling. I can’t wait to read it.” Remus blushed hard. 
“It just popped into my head.” He admitted. 
“All the best ones do,” Sirius reassured him. “Oh, here, before I forget. Take this. It’s got all my information on it in case you can’t make it for whatever reason or need help throughout the week. I’ll do my best to accommodate you.” He handed Remus the little white card. Their fingers brushed as Remus took it, and Sirius felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him, stemming from where Remus’s fingers had been. They looked at each other wide-eyed and stunned. Well, crap, this was going to be harder than he thought.  
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Crushed 19
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.
Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine
Note: it's hump day, let's get humped.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖
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Jonathan doesn’t drive you back to your building. Instead, you walk with him through the halls to his condo. You stop outside the door as he slips the bags up to his wrist and unlocks the door. He holds it open and waves you inside. 
You enter, rubbing your arm nervously. It’s been a long day. A long few days. You’re exhausted. You catch a yawn in your hand as you hug yourself with one arm and peer around. 
“I’ll have to go into the office tomorrow. Can’t be avoided much longer,” he explains as he puts the bags on the side table, “you will stay here. To be safe.” 
“Oh, uh, right,” you sway back and forth as you press your palm to the side of your neck, “um, I don’t mind--” 
“I mind,” he interjects, “I can’t trust that animal not to act as what he is. Darling, you must think, yes? Learn from your mistakes. We both know he’s dangerous. I wouldn’t put you in such danger and I would hope you wouldn’t walk right into it.” 
“I know, I wasn’t... I just... I wouldn’t want to impose,” your eyes drift away meekly, “that’s all.” 
“Impose? Have I not made my feelings clear?” He approaches you, brushing his knuckles up your arm, “I cannot get enough of you, fawn.” 
You smile but it’s hard. You feel weak. The day is only half done and you could keel over. He brings his hand up to cradle your cheek, “what is it?” 
“Just tired,” you shrug. 
“Mmm, how about... I’ll run you a nice hot bath. You can relax. We’ve done rather much today... you have been through even more,” he gives a doleful look, “you let me worry for everything. All will turn out, I’m certain.” 
“I guess,” you purse your lips. It’s easy enough for him to say. He still has a job, you’re not so sure you do. 
“Darling,” he brings a bent finger under your chin, tiling your head, “I will take care of you.” 
Your lips part but you quickly close them. You don’t want to argue right now. You don’t want to point out that everything is still fresh and new. Or that he might not feel the same in a month or two. Or a year. Especially if you’re unemployed. 
One day he’ll see how worthless you are. 
“So let’s get that bath going,” he bends to kiss your forehead, “I’ve some bath salts which may help ease the tension. I’ll light a few candles...” he rambles as he turns and strides down the hallway. You follow after him reluctantly, as much as the bath sounds nice, you already feel like a burden. 
You stand in the doorway as you watch him remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He fusses over the tub as of you’re not there. The water spills out into the deep porcelain basin and he stands. He turns and gestures to a towel on a silver bar. 
“That is clean,” he says before he opens the tall cupboard near the sink, “bath salt... rose.” 
He reads the canister before he uncaps it. He turns to add a sprinkle to the water, the floral aroma rising with the steam. He sets it aside and beckons you into the bathroom. You cross the tile as you play with the hem of your shirt. 
He brushes past you and you turn to watch him go. You face the tub again and pull up your shirt. You let your pants slip down your legs and as you straighten, you hear him return. He places a three-wick candle on the ledge above the tub and lights it. 
He looks at you, his eyes roving up and down, and he smirks, “I’m almost tempted to join you, darling, but alas, I do have a few things to tend to.” 
“That’s... okay,” you murmur, hugging yourself as you stand in panty and bra.  
He scoffs, “why are you playing shy, eh?” He nears and tickles along your collar bone, sending a shiver through you. 
“I’m not, I’m... cold,” you lie and turn your attention to the tub. 
“Mm, if you need any help warming up,” his fingers flutter up your neck before he retracts his touch, “should you need me, you need only call my name, fawn.” 
“Alright,” you eke out. 
You wait until he’s past you but don’t check to see if he’s gone. You strip down the rest of your clothes and near the tub. You lift your legs over the edge and sink into the water. You sigh as the warmth seeps into you. 
You close your eyes as the water continues to lap down by your feet. You try to let the tension out. You’re thinking too much.  
💔
You button up the shirt Jonathan left for you. You still feel uneasy as you slip into bed but you’re too tired to care. You might be invading his space but he doesn’t seem to mind much. Besides, the hot water has finished you off. You just want to sleep forever. 
Your eyes roll back and you hide from the world. It doesn’t quite fade away, still vaguely present on the other side of your eyelids. That hazy itchiness settles in your head but the fog just won’t thicken to darkness. You’re awake, barely, kept conscious by the nerves rattling in your chest. 
In your stupour, you remain vaguely aware of your unusual surroundings. Despite the threat that lingers on the other side of the walls, you can’t help but miss your apartment. It’s the first space that was truly your own. All that’s ruined.  
You hear a dulcet tone, a low hum that’s soothing a much as it is stirring. You roll onto your side and grumble, peeling open your eyes as your ears prick. Jonathan’s voice precedes him into the room. You blink at him from the bed, curled up under the blankets as your warmth keeps you in place. 
“Yes, I will have her there, never you worry,” he says breezily, “mm, yes, I’ve the time. I’ll add it to my calendar. Shouldn’t be any issue.” As you watch him, he meets your gaze and his brows flick up as he grins, “thanks, Eugenia, can’t wait. Yes, you have a wonderful night.” 
He pulls the phone away from his ear and you recognise the case and the cracked protector. It’s yours. What the heck? You sit up and reach instinctively for him. 
“Hey, that’s my phone,” you accuse. 
“Yes, it was ringing and I thought you asleep. It was only your mother,” he drops the phone on the bed next to you. “I could hardly answer between messages from that pest you call a neighbour.” 
“What?” You grasp the cell and slide it closer. 
“She only wanted to confirm the time for the engagement party next weekend. You can wear one of your new dresses,” he explains as he goes to the wall mirror and checks his reflection, smoothing his hair before he unbuttons his collar. He works a path down the row and the fabric slackens around his shoulders. “I’ve made certain to make record of each message that creature sends. We may just need to consult authorities.” 
“Colin? I—I blocked him.” 
“Please do not say his name. It’s absolutely hideous, isn’t it?” He faces you as he shrugs off his shirt. “It seems he has found an alternative, that chit he keeps around.” 
“Ally?” You wonder. 
“Mmm, is that her name,” he drones as he dumps his shirt into the hamper. “Well, we needn’t worry about them much longer.” 
He continues to undress as you pull yourself up against the pillows. Things just keep happening and you can’t keep up. You look up as he wears nothing but his short cotton boxers and nears the bed. You peek down at your phone and put it on the night table to right of the bed. 
“I do think you should call your landlord and give notice sooner than later,” he climbs onto the foot of the bed. 
“Notice?” You echo in confusion, “why--” 
“You cannot go back, darling, it’s not safe,” he tugs at the blanket, pulling it away from your body, “I cannot in good conscience let you return.” 
“But I—we can just let things mellow out, right? Colin will get over it--” 
“I told you,” he grabs your ankle, “do not utter his name at me.” 
He pulls you so you fall flat on your back. You throw your arms out and gasp as your head bounces onto the mattress. He separates your legs and perches between them. You lift yourself on your elbows, breathless, and stare at him. 
“I can’t stay forever--” 
“Did I ever say that?” He challenges, his blue eyes blazing up at you. 
“No, but--” 
“I understand things have escalated quickly, fawn, but we will figure it all out. I will be certain to clarify everything at the office, let them know it was simply not your doing,” his eyes cling to your face and narrow before slowly descending. 
He glides his hands up your legs, crawling closer on his knees. He slides his touch beneath the loose shirt and tickles your naked skin. He sends a chill through you that speckles hotly. He feels your body, running his hands up and your torso as you quiver. 
He slips his hands above the fabric as he kneels between your thighs. He unbuttons the shirt to your belly button, unveiling your chest and bending to dote on it. He cups one side as his mouth explores the other; nipping and nuzzle. You let out a pathetic noise as you cradle the back of his head. 
You arch your back as his warmth draws you in and chases away your doubts. His long fingers soothe you and his intensity overpowers you. As much as this man has you uncertain, you cannot resist him. It feels nice to be wanted even if it isn’t who you wanted. 
💔
Once more, you fall asleep in the afterglow of Jonathan’s attentions. How easily he can obfuscate your fears and doubts. How his touch can so easily distract you from the things that might keep you awake.  
The weight of his arm settles over you, holding you to him, his hard long body coiled around yours. He keeps a leg curled between yours as his hot breath seeps into your scalp. You’re content, you’re safe. 
Your sleep is only disturbed as he untangles himself carefully from you. You don’t rouse entirely, clinging to the pillow and dregs of fatigue. He tucks the blanket under your figure and the bed shifts with the absences of his weight. His scent lingers behind him. 
You sink back down and fall flat on your back, spreading out across the mattress. The late night lull settles over you, lulling you down as the distant drone of Jonathan’s lilted voice further coaxes you. You moan through your slumber and roll onto his side, longing for him to return. 
You blink and the blue digits of the clock have changed. Twenty minutes and he’s still not back. You shiver and flutter your eyelashes, rubbing your cheeks as you force yourself awake. You sit up dizzily, you can still hear him. 
You shimmy to the edge of the bed and stand. You hug yourself as a shiver washes over your naked flesh. The button-up is lost somewhere in the bedding. You put your feet down softly as you pad across the room, following his timbre as it come between sharper tones. 
You creep out into the hall, a bluish glow drawing you in. You follow the cool hardwood to the front room and hide in the dim as you squint. Jonathan has his phone in hand, the screen alight as his profile is limned in its shine. He watches it intently as you recognise the voice chirping from the speaker. 
“That’s so lovely, dear, hope we can see you soon,” his mother chimes. 
You waver on your feet. Oh, you shouldn’t listen. 
“Will she be coming?” His father’s gristly accent comes through. 
You pause before you can back up. Jonathan clicks his tongue, “yes, I think so.” 
“Jon,” his mother titters, “oh, that’s so exciting! That’s... big.” 
“Eh, yes, don’t think you ever let us meet one of the birds,” he father chides. 
“Father, she’s not... don’t call her that,” Jonathan rebukes. 
“I’m teasing, yeah?” The elder Pine chortles, “you’re gonna have to warn her about us. If that place has made you so soft, I shouldn’t want to scare the girl.” 
“Father,” Jonathan utters once more, “she’s... not... She’s perfect.” 
His mom squeals and giggles. You gulp and press yourself against the wall. What is he talking about? He’s talking about taking you somewhere. To his home? That’s a far way. Something he should probably ask you first. His mother is entirely correct; that’s big. His compliments cannot counteract the shock of his one-sided decision. 
You sidle along the hallway, careful not to place your feet too heavily. As you near the bedroom, your elbow hits the frame and the thump casts silence through the apartment. Shoot. 
You peer toward the front room and see Jonathan’s shadow closing in. He must have heard your misstep. You quickly flit into the room and ease into the bed. You pull the blankets over you and turn your back to the door. Your heart is racing. 
You sense him in the doorway, watching you. Silent. 
“Everything okay, son?” His father asks. 
“Yes, it’s... fine,” Jonathan answers, “I’ll let you go. Wouldn’t want to wake her.” 
“Oh yes, get some sleep,” his mother insists, “love ya.” 
“Night, son.” 
Jonathan crosses the room and you hear his phone meet the table on his side of the bed. The mattress dips as he climbs in and pulls the blanket over himself, nestling in close to you. He sighs and hums as he hugs you to him once more. 
You lay, frozen and silent, praying he can’t feel your pulse. 
“Did I wake you?” He whispers and kisses your crown. 
You force a groan from your throat and feign grogginess, “hmm, oh, no...” You wiggle into the mattress and yawn, putting your hand over his. 
“Back to sleep, darling,” he purrs as he nuzzles you.  
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amongemeraldclouds · 4 months
Text
better than revenge | alt chapter: one last cigarette
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Toxic!Ex!Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader
Chapter summary: Just when you were ready to leave the past behind, the very person you're trying to escape shows up. 949 words.
Author’s note: Final upload for this series! Wrote this back in March, but it took me forever to post because it's hard to officially say goodbye to the series but here we are.
This chapter is not canon. The main story line officially ended with the previous chapter. This one is just an alternate ending I wrote when I was trying to figure out what to do with Mattheo’s story arc and I like how it turned out. Ex!Mattheo isn’t very popular in this story and for good reason. In the end, I couldn’t write this ending without him being toxic!Mattheo so be warned.
This chapter contains angst and a bit of angry sex so 18+ only below the cut. It was hard writing this because the tone has been mostly fluff, but you can’t really have an ex!story without the heartbreak.
series masterlist | previous chapter | main masterlist
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A rude awakening
A/N: This is the final flashback with yours and Mattheo’s story.
“I love you, Mattheo,” I whisper against his ear as the first rays of sunlight filter through the window. 
Mattheo wonders what he did to deserve her affection. Breathing here in between slumber and the waking world, his defenses dwindle. The thoughts he long kept at bay claws its way to the surface. 
He is the dark lord’s son. He was always fated to ruin everything and everyone he loved. If he didn’t hurt her now, he would in the future.
It was easier, kinder even, to let her go now.
So he did what he knew best.
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The last cigarette
A/N: Timeline wise, this takes place before chapter seven. In this alt timeline, you and Enzo never attend the ball.
I inhale the cigarette smoke, letting it fill my lungs, and exhale. One last cigarette for Mattheo. Once I snuff it out, I’m letting him go.
A week after we broke up, grief came in waves. I’d do well in class and get excited to show Mattheo before I remember I no longer could. I’d see his favorite food at the Great Hall and turn, but he wasn’t beside me. I’d snuggle in bed and wait for him to climb in, but he no longer did. How did I keep forgetting?
How did I keep remembering?
I remembered one evening how smoking helped him relax. Maybe it could help me too.
All it did was make me smell like him and I clung on because it was the closest I could get to him. 
But here, now, one last smoke then I'll let him go. I inhale and think of twinkling night skies, when Mattheo and I pretended we were floating among the stars. The way they reflected his eyes.
I remember hot chocolate and croissants, snuggling by the fireplace. He complained about my chocolate flavored kisses. Deep down, I knew he loved them.
I recall his fire. Hair pulling, lips crashing, back scratching. The way his touch seared my soul.
And it was good for a while. I exhale and watch it all drift away in the night wind.
I inhale and recall that night. Begging him to stay, to talk to me, we could work it out. Instead he said he got bored. Instead he kissed her.
And oh. Love really did leave you hollow when it left. I exhale and watch the smoke disappear.
I inhale and—
“I thought you liked your lungs?” Mattheo asks, approaching me.
“Don’t talk to me like you know me.”
He stands beside me, eyes searching my face. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“It’s a little too late now, isn’t it? What the fuck, Mattheo? I’m with Enzo and suddenly you care about me?”
“I’ve always cared, please—” he tries.
“You had three weeks to find me, Mattheo. To apologize. But you didn’t. I’m not some trophy you can take from Enzo just so you can score another point against him!”
He recoils, hurt in his eyes. “Do you really think that little of me?”
“Have you forgotten what you’ve done?” I ask.
“If I could take it back, I would.”
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” I accuse him.
“What do you want me to say?” He asks, exasperated. “I’m an idiot! I messed up. I never felt like I was good enough for you.”
“No Matty, you don’t understand,” I point to him, a tear escaping. “You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough!”
My tears spill and his eyes water. He pulls me in his arms as I sob.
“You don’t get to hurt me and cry as if you’re the victim,” I say.
“Angel, please, I didn’t mean to” he shifts so he can look into my eyes and wipe my tears. “If words are not enough,” he kisses me.  
My lips are electrified, everything inside me burning. Needing, hating, mourning. I want to scream, instead I suck his lower lip hard enough to bruise and grip his hair. It earns me a grunt as he hauls my body to his, closing the gap between us.
His hand trails down my waist to press me where he needs me most. Moving against each other, friction and heat sparking embers within. And it’s still not enough.
Without leaving my lips, Mattheo turns us around. Hands locked around his neck, eyes closed, I follow his footsteps until I feel the wall behind me. His hand snakes under my skirt, caressing my thigh. A filthy moan leaves my mouth—begging, praying, craving. More.
He moves his finger where I’m most sensitive and I gasp, breaking our kiss. He brings his mouth to my ear, “I’ll show you just how sorry I am.” With his free hand, he tugs my hair until I’m staring at the stars, and runs his tongue from the base of my throat to my chin.
Muscle memory takes over as his fingers slide across my folds, knowing just where I needed him. My breathing gets ragged when he fills me up with his fingers, exploiting all the ways he can make me moan and whimper. “Fuck. I missed you, angel.”
I ride his fingers, hating his stupid voice and his messy hair.
He bites my neck, leaving marks and I hate his filthy mouth.
He moves relentlessly. I hate his eyes. I hate his hands. I hate his voice.
I burn until I’m overcome with white hot rage, coming undone for him. Shockwaves of pleasure writhe through me as he presses me for all I have.
A second before afterglow, in the quiet darkness, I hate myself most because I still love him. 
“Come on angel, I’m not done apologizing,” he says, taking my hand, leading me to my dorm.
I never get to finish my cigarette.
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A/N: If there was a quote for you and Mattheo in this series, exploring your past relationship, it would be:
"The love was there. It didn't change anything. It didn't save anyone...but it still matters that the love was there."
Thanks again to everyone who followed the series! ♡
Taglist: @hoeforvinniehackerrr @i-think-you-are-gr8 @thecraziestcrayon @adreamingpendulum @themarauderswife7 @midsoulz @ultramarinetovelvet @val-writes @lafrone @daisiesformylove @mildly-delulu @allebasi05 @enha-stan @skb4000 @nat1221 @s0urw00lf @helpimhopelesslyinlove @helendeath @optimisticsandwichgladiator
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heliza24 · 7 months
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Being a physically disabled Dimension 20 fan breaks my heart sometimes
I’ve been thinking about this since last Wednesday’s episode when we finally got a real scene with Lydia, one of the few physically disabled characters in the entire canon of the show. It was nice, but it was really just a lore dump. An excuse for exposition. A moment for Kristen to look good by expending sympathy/pity. (I’m a little frustrated about how that interaction went down. Extending the help action was nice but patronizingly touching the neck of a full-ass adult without consent was not. It was weird and not something she would have done to a nondisabled character).
I have watched almost all of D20 (still missing a couple of seasons) and as far as I know here’s where our list of canon physically disabled characters stand: Lydia Barkrock, Jan de la Vega (who feels pretty problematic to me, maybe more on that in a later post), one of the Dwarven statues in the temple in The Seven (who is not given the dignity of being brought to life like Asha), and Pete’s coworker in TUC2 who is in exactly one episode and is so unimportant I have forgotten his name. I guess you could make an argument that Gunny is disabled, but I don't feel that Lou or Brennan really talk about him or play him through that lens. So in terms of canon physically disabled PCs-- that leaves us with 0.
We do a bit better with neurodivergent characters and characters with mental health problems; Ayda (my beloved) is very well developed and Adaine is a PC. There have been some openly neurodivergent players, like Omar and Surena, whose characters also read ND to me. But that isn’t labeled or discussed in canon, so it's hard for me to know where to class that. I am going to focus the rest of this post on physical disabilities, since that is my area of lived experience. If another fan wants to write about their perspective of neurodivergence rep in the show, I would love to hear that, and will happily amplify.
There has never been a character with a sensory disability or a limb difference or a chronic illness (not a fantasy one, a real one) on Dimension 20. The only NPCs we have are nondescript, similar wheelchair users. And there has never been a physically disabled player at the table. On the flagship show of Dropout, a company founded on diversity and inclusion. It feels extremely pointed to me.
In fact as far as I can tell there has only been one (1) physically disabled performer on any of Dropout’s shows. (Shout out to Brett, you were great on Dirty Laundry.) Obviously I haven’t seen every episode of everything they have produced. If I have missed someone, please do let me know in the comments/reblogs. But it’s a problem. And Sam Reich even agreed with this criticism when I asked him directly about.
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I do really hope they’re working on it, as Sam says. But why has it taken so long?
Dimension 20 has had trans and nonbinary and queer players. It has had players of many different races. I’m not saying that the diversity here is perfect; there should always be more POC in the dome, more queer people. We should keep pushing for that. (And we should also push for performers at the intersections of these identities!) But we’ve seen the ways this diversity has expanded and improved the different seasons, because diverse players create sensitively drawn, diverse player characters. They add details to their PC’s experiences that make them feel rich and alive. I’m thinking about each of Ally’s PC’s incredible capital G gender and Aabria “all my characters (even the stoats) are Black” and how excellent they all are. D20 would not be the show it is without this input.
And yet. And yet.
There are 1,000 interesting and complicated themes to explore around disability. Dealing with access. Dealing with ableism. Dealing with compassion and community care. Dealing with none of it and just being a cool fantasy or sci fi character that happens to be disabled. We don’t get any of it.
I watch my favorite show and I see myself in the ace rep and the female characters. But I don’t see all of me. I see a silent but ever present message: you aren’t quite welcome here.
I have this fantasy that I play in my brain sometimes that someday I’ll get to talk to Brennan in person, like maybe if I buy a VIP ticket and risk Covid to go to a live show or we run into each other on the street or something. I am able to look him in the eye and articulate why he NEEDS to include a physically disabled player in an upcoming season. I reference the ways he’s talked about inclusion and writing diversely on Adventuring Party. Maybe I hand him a handwritten letter, or hell, a printout of this post. And because he really cares about diversity and his shows and his fans he would listen to me, and cast a physically disabled performer in the next season.
But I think that might be giving that nondisabled man (whose work I adore, who I respect so much) too much credit. Because he’s had Jennifer Kretchmer, a physically disabled actual play performer, on adventuring academy to talk about access in gaming. He’s hired disability consultants. He knows about physically disabled people, enough to give us shoutouts as inconsequential npcs. And he still hasn’t thought to include us at the table. In over 20 seasons. None of that other stuff matters if we aren't given a seat at the story telling table, and the agency to craft our own narratives equal to other participants in the game.
When Lydia was telling her story in the last episode, I kept wishing for a prequel, where she is more than a plot delivery device and a kind but unimportant parent. I want to know about her adventures with her adventuring party. I want to see a talented, wheelchair-using actor play out the scene when she decides to put the gem in her chest. I want to hear about what happened after. I want to know how she survived. I want it so badly it hurts.
I am in the process of trying to find new indie actual plays that feature more disabled talent. I am learning how to GM myself so I can tell these kinds of stories. But it’s not the same as being a fan of something. Sometimes I don’t want to have to make my own representation. Sometimes I just want to turn on my favorite tv show, the one that I have cosplayed from and written metas about and loved whole heartedly, and see myself included.
If you’re another disabled or neurodivergent fan I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. If you’re not, I’d love for you to reblog this. I would love for the absence of physical disability in this show to be a topic of fandom conversation, at the very least.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years
Text
Coming Home (Part 8)
Azriel x Reader
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
Just saying again if I’ve accidentally missed you off the tag list, please drop me a message and let me know! I don’t want to miss anyone ❤️
Warnings: Nah. I think we all know I eat angst for breakfast by now. 🫣
A week later, your only relief was keeping busy.
Day in and day out, you threw yourself into the world of your work, lost yourself in the glorious art that was magical healing. Every minute of the day was filled with walk-ins at the clinic, or the more urgent home visits you travelled out to. And come evening time, when the patient footfall thinned out into nothing, you crushed herbs and mixed ingredients until you were healing your own cuts, your own burns, making salves and tonics and long-forgotten medicinal recipes that were fading on the pages of the dusty old book you so often buried your nose into. 
Anything to keep your thoughts off of him. To keep that ache from ripping you open inside.
That evening, like every other over the past week, you hid yourself away in your little back room. It had become a solace of sorts, a place that was yours to linger in for as long into the night as you needed. Sometimes you even slept there.
You wiped a sheen of sweat from your brow as you drained the water from the herbs you’d been boiling. Lost in the punchy aromas and the steam creating a shroud around you, you just about jumped out of your skin when you turned to find a figure in the doorway. You winced as a few droplets of boiled water sloshed over the rim of the ceramic pot, spraying your arm.
“Shit.” Lucien marched over, easing the pot from your hands and placing it on the counter. “Sorry — I did knock. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” You wiped your hands on your apron, the sting already gone. “What brings you here?”
“I was on my way to that family dinner I’ve been so generously invited to. Thought I’d drop by here and offer to walk you there.”
Shit — you’d forgotten about the dinner you’d agreed to. And thus, forgotten to come up with a good excuse as to why you couldn’t attend. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid these things forever, but to see Azriel so soon — to sit across the table from him and act like everything was fine — was a prospect that made you feel sick.
Lucien seemed to notice your hesitation. He frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” You quickly said — you really didn’t feel like explaining the Azriel situation right now to anyone; even him. “No, I just…forgot. Uh…I’ll clean myself up.”
“Good idea. You have a little…” He reached out a strong, broad hand, the pad of his thumb brushing just beneath your eye. “There. Some sort of powder.”
With a somewhat nervous laugh bubbling up your throat, you brushed past him, his touch still tingling on your face. 
You didn’t see the point in fixing your appearance beyond the basics of dusting yourself down and throwing your hair up that had begun to curl in the humidity of the room. You discarded your apron, shucking your jacket on, and turned to Lucien expectantly.
You snorted as you found him sniffing at the various different pots of salves and tonics, a frown pinching his face. You pointedly cleared your throat. 
“If you’re done shoving that pregnancy prevention tonic up your nose,” You gestured to yourself. “Do I look presentable?”
One side of Lucien’s mouth kicked up into a delicious smirk. “Ravishing, Lady Healer.”
You prolonged the walk to the house as much as you possibly could, dragging your feet slowly and keeping Lucien lost in conversation. It reminded you how easy it had been to be around him before — how the gaping chasm inside you didn’t ache quite so badly as he regaled you with wicked stories that drew genuine laughter from you.
You were undoubtedly late, though — and that much was obvious when you could put off the inevitable no longer, and you entered Rhys and Feyre’s home. 
Everyone was already seated at the table when you and Lucien strolled through, mid-laughter. They each looked up with raised eyebrows, taking the sight of you in.
Azriel’s was the only gaze you didn’t meet, no matter how badly your eyes wanted to stray to him.
Your laughter died in the expectant silence, and you cleared your throat. “Apologies for the lateness. I got…held up. At the clinic.”
It didn’t occur to you, in the moment, how those two words — held up — may have been construed, given the appearance of the situation. That you and Lucien had wandered in later than everyone else, talking and laughing and flushed from your walk in the brisk air. You took your usual seat beside Mor, reaching for a glass. 
“Can we eat now?” She pouted. “I’m starved.”
“Yes.” Rhys replied, his eyes not moving from you. “We can.”
Rhys’s hard gaze wasn’t the only one trained on you throughout dinner. 
Elain sat directly opposite you, and you were surprised she actually managed to eat anything, with how intently she stared at you. Glared at you. If she was trying to make you uncomfortable, it was working.
“All I’m saying,” Cassian said from across the table, cutting into his dessert, “is that it’d be pretty cool to have a Night Court pet. A mascot, of sorts.”
Amren narrowed her eyes at him, draining her glass. “Where are you going with this, you stupid boy?”
“A cat. I think we should get a big, Night Court cat. A black one.”
The verbal sparring between Cassian and Amren, through all three courses of food, had been dinner entertainment in itself. Kept you distracted enough that Azriel was simply a shadow in your periphery, and nothing more. 
And Lucien had helped, of course — like he could sense that you needed easing. His reassuring glances from the chair on your other side, his quiet comments in your ear that had you laughing to yourself, had all been the comforting presence you’d needed.
“Perhaps we should get a cat.” Amren hummed. “It can replace you, Cassian. And probably provide us with more stimulating conversation, too.”
Lucien leaned down to your ear, his breath tickling your skin as he murmured, “He can join our band of rejects.”
The laugh that broke from your throat was so loud, so sudden, that everyone turned to look at you. Lucien pulled away, clearing his throat.
Shifting in your seat, you pushed your plate away from you. You’d barely touched a morsel of food all night.
“If we’re done eating.” Rhys said, his hard, violet eyes on you. “Perhaps we should move to the sitting room.”
Hums of agreement sounded around the table, and you didn’t hesitate to stand up from your chair. This was the perfect opportunity to make an excuse and retire early — to leave the heavy, pressing atmosphere that was making your chest uncomfortably tight.
You opened your mouth to announce you were leaving, but your brother turned to you, holding out an arm. 
“A walk around the garden, Y/N?” He asked. The fact that nobody else said a word was indication enough that there was intent behind the innocent suggestion.
Still, he was your brother — and you barely got to see him anymore, partly through your own doing. You smiled tightly and linked your arm through his.
“Save some whiskey for me.” Rhys called over his shoulder, leading you out.
The two of you strode in silence for a while. 
The night was peaceful, if not uncomfortably cold in your thin clothing. Content, playful snippets of conversation occasionally floated out of the house and reached your ears. The floral scents that drifted through the air were pleasant, soothing, reminding you of simpler times.
You would have felt blissful if you didn’t have warring emotions eating you up from the inside.
Rhys slowed to a stop beside a flowering shrub, his fingers toying with the petals of a soft purple flower. “Y/N.” He said quietly. “What’s going on?”
You stared at him, willing an expression of cluelessness onto your face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” His jaw ticked, “I mean with you and Lucien.”
Gods, you were already tired of this conversation. You felt yourself bristle as you folded your arms.
“Oh, don’t give me that look, Y/N.”
You cocked an eyebrow. “What look would that be?”
“Like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” His tone was sharp, biting — verging on angry. “Everyone was aware of you leaving your party with him. I overlooked it because I knew you were overwhelmed. But afterwards, I found out you had…history with him. And then tonight, the two of you turn up late together after doing the Mother knows what—“
“I’d thank you,” You interrupted with a snap, “to watch what you’re insinuating, brother.”
“You were sat directly opposite his mate, Y/N, while he was whispering in your ear.”
“Elain doesn’t even acknowledge him!”
Rhys whipped round to face you so fast, he tore the flower from the shrub. It floated from his fingers to the ground. “Your opinion on their bond is completely irrelevant. He is a mated male, to a female in our family, our court. You will not interfere with that.”
You clenched your jaw. “Since when do you involve yourself in other people’s relationships?”
Your brother stared at you, his lips slightly parted. Slowly, he shook his head. “You truly have no idea, do you?”
“About what?”
“About what I have to deal with!” His voice was almost a shout. “This isn’t about involving myself in relationships. This is about my duties as a High Lord. Our relations with many of the other courts are already stretched at best. If they sense conflict from within our court, our family, it will be used against us.”
“Conflict?” You repeated. “For fuck’s sake, Rhys, Lucien is my friend. If Elain has a problem with that—“
Your words were stopped short as Rhys marched over to you. He cut an intimidating figure, towering over you and gripping both your shoulders in his firm hands. 
“Do you know what they say about you in the other courts?” He shook you. “Do you? They talk about the Night Court High Lord’s flighty younger sister who cannot settle in any one place. Who moves from court to court, taking lovers and doing as she pleases. Who was fucking and drinking to her heart’s content while the whole world went to shit.”
“I,” You snapped, shoving him off, “was healing mortals and helping rebuild villages and lives that our kind were destroying. And I wanted to come home, to find some way to help — you told me to stay away!”
“Yes, because I couldn’t let Amarantha get to you! I knew she’d use you to get to me and I couldn’t let that happen!”
“So you can’t hold it against me, Rhys—“
“I’m not holding anything against you.” His tone was low, dangerous, his face moulded into one fitting for the Court of Nightmares. “But I have duties. Important ones that cannot be compromised. Stay away from Lucien.”
You stared defiantly up at him, your arms crossed over your chest. “Are you saying that as my brother? Or as my High Lord?”
“I’m saying it as a gentle warning as your brother. But if I have to pull rank to keep things on the straight and narrow, I will.”
“Gentle.” You scoffed. 
That single action of yours seemed to incense Rhys beyond anything else.
“Do you even realise what hell we went through? The things we had to endure? I barely survived!” He spat, his wings flaring behind him. “But those dark days are behind us, Y/N. We’re trying to rebuild, to regain strength. And I can’t have you making poor decisions and breaking us apart from within. I cannot have you bringing shame down on our court!”
He may as well have slapped you.
You felt your breath hitch in your throat. Felt your clenched fists uncurl themselves. Felt the cold slither of hurt snake its way through you until it was chilling your bones and turning your blood to ice. You’d fallen deadly still.
Rhys knew immediately what he’d said. The realisation seemed to drain his anger from him instantaneously. His eyes shuttered, his jaw loosening. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Shame?” Hot tears pricked at your eyes; you blinked them away. “Is that how you feel about me, Rhys? Ashamed?”
“No, look, that’s not what I meant—“ He was scrambling for words as he reached for you, his face, his eyes, infinitely softer — the expression you recognised as your brother. “I just—“
But you were stepping away from him, shaking your head. Wiping your eyes. You didn’t want to hear another word he had to say. 
“Y/N—“
“Wow.” You laughed bitterly, shooting your brother one last, scathing glance. “Congratulations, High Lord. You truly sound like our father.”
Vicious, vicious words that you knew would hurt more than anything, but you were beyond caring. You turned, running back up the steps to the house and sweeping through on a wind built of your own anger, your own hurt. You didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or cry. Maybe both. 
As you passed the rest of the Inner Circle gathered in the main sitting room, you didn’t spare a single one of them a glance. Even though they could see the tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks. Even though you looked seconds from breaking completely.
You held your head high, and you left. 
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babydollmarauders · 2 years
Text
MINE — TREVOR ZEGRAS
request: “Hi! I love your work! <3 Can you make a little comfort fic with Trevor? Like someone said something nasty about the reader and Trevor's relationship like he's not good enough for her and that he couldn't please her like he could, so Trevor gets all protective and fights him and when he comes home, he's all cuddly and clingy because he's scared that the reader is gonna leave him?”
summary: in which y/n sees two new sides of Trevor: protectiveness and fear.
warnings: profanity, fighting
notes: i don’t really know how i feel about this one. i definitely don’t think angst is really my strong suit, but i tried! p.s. i drew a very minimal and light inspiration from Mine by Taylor Swift for this one.
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at this point i feel like it’s a universal experience among girls to have a guy friend with an obvious crush on you but you don’t like them that way.
for me, that guy is my friend, Drew. he and i became friends in high school, and when we both enrolled in the same college, i was excited to have a close friend there with me. but in our freshman year things started standing out to me more, the looks that Drew sent me from across the room, the way that he would glare down any guy who so much as looked at me, the way he was quick to drop any other plans in order to hang out with me. and then in sophomore year, i noticed the continuous compliments, the increased touching, and the way that he would start commenting about how ‘special’ our friendship is.
suffice it to say that i was hoping he would get the hint and back off when i started dating my boyfriend Trevor. but now it’s been a year and he’s only gotten more obvious with his advances.
which brings us to tonight. my friend, Lila is hosting an early graduation party at her house and of course our entire friend group is here, including Drew, who’s already drunk, an hour into the party. i’m standing in the living room in a circle of my close friends, all talking about how glad they are to be free from college. we all worked hard to graduate a semester early, and we may have only gotten associate’s degrees but it doesn’t change how done we were with school by the time we got out of our last ever class yesterday. my gaze bounces between my friends and the front door, waiting for my boyfriend to arrive. he just got back from a week long roadie yesterday and i’ve yet to see him since arrived back in town, so he agreed to come and stay an hour before taking me back to his apartment.
“girl, you look like a crazy person with your eyes twitching back and forth like that!” Lila laughs, nudging into my shoulder with her own. “calm down, hun! i’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
“yeah, i know. i’m just excited. i haven’t seen him in eight days.” my smile is weak and it only dims when i catch sight of Drew rolling his eyes. he’s never been one to keep a filter when he drinks. but it’s forgotten when i glance back towards the door and my eyes lock with the subject of our discussion. i bounce on my feet a couple times, waiting for him to make his way over, but i eventually lose my patience when i see him get stopped by a guy. who, based on his passionate gestures, i’m assuming is a fan of the Anaheim Ducks. i watch as Trevor smiles and nods, exchanging words with the random who holds his attention, and i know if i don’t get over there soon it could potentially never end. Trevor could talk about hockey all night if someone would let him, which i have on numerous occasions. sending one more smile over to my friends, i step towards my boyfriend, but i’m rooted in place by a hand wrapping around my wrist, pulling me back.
“what are you even doing with him y/n/n?” i spin back around at Drew’s voice.
“what?” i pack a mighty bite into my one worded response, but Drew obviously doesn’t seem to catch it.
“he’s not good enough for you. you literally just said he left you alone for eight days.” he looks up and scowls over my shoulder, probably looking at Trevor. “i could treat you so much better than that pretty boy does.”
i’m stunned into silence at his outburst. my lips open and close, and i’m begging for something, anything, to come out. he’s never been this up front about his feelings for me, and i had naively hoped that he never would be. taking my silence as an invitation to keep going, Drew speaks once again.
“could definitely please you better than he could too.” my blood boils, and i swear i see red. but before i can jump to the defense of my boyfriend, i’m lightly pushed to the side and i look over in time to see Trevor barreling past me, straight to Drew. He shoves him but Drew’s hand is still gripped on my wrist, making him pull me forward when he stumbles.
“get your hand off my girlfriend before i remove it for you, asshole.” Trevor’s voice is low and he speaks between clenched teeth. “i’ve put up with your pining glances and your barely subtle remarks for this long, because she’s too nice to say it to your face, but i will. she’s not interested in you. she never will be. and the fact that she’s made that clear multiple times and you still won’t back off doesn’t make you ‘persistent’. it makes you a creep.”
Drew lets go of my arm but it only takes one look at him to guess his next move, and before i can warn Trevor or pull him out of the way, Drew’s fist connects with his face. i gasp, my hand flying up to cover my open mouth, and feel myself being pulled back from the brewing fight by dainty hands. Lila’s, i assume.
Trevor doesn’t go down, instead he just laughs, like Drew’s punch was nothing but a bee sting. Drew’s face pinches in confusion at Trevor’s reaction, but he doesn’t get much time to ponder it before Trevor throws his own punch directly at Drew’s nose. i hear the crunch before Drew’s body crumples to the floor in two seconds flat. my wide eyes scan the scene in front of me, my boyfriend shaking out his hand, no doubt bruises will line his knuckles in the morning, and blood dripping down Drew’s face.
“you can talk your shit about me, you can curse my name, hit me, i don’t care. but you keep your hands off my damn girlfriend.” Trevor spits out, looking down his nose at my now ex-friend, before he turns around. he takes ahold of my hand and marches out of the house with his head held high. i glance back at my other friends, my eyes still as wide as saucers and my lips mouthing silent apologies. Lila waves her hand in a dismissive motion, shrugging her shoulders, shaking her head, and mouthing her own words of ‘it’s okay’.
Trevor leads me to his car, opening the passenger door for me as if it’s just another date night, before jogging around and sliding into the drivers seat.
the drive back to his place is done in silence, and i make no attempts to break it. i can feel the energy radiating off of him. no longer hostile, but still tense. when we arrive, i trail behind him into his apartment. Trevor walks into his bedroom, mumbling something about getting changed and grabbing me a change of clothes, and i stand in the living room. his friend/teammate/roommate, Jamie, sits on the couch, locked into a video game but spares a quick glance at me.
“hey, you guys are back early.” his focus is immediately turned back to his game, and i’m not sure he expects a response but i reply anyways.
“yeah. it’s, uh, been a night.” Trevor is back quickly, handing me a pair of sweats that i left here and one of his t-shirts.
“you can go ahead and get changed and then we can watch a movie in my room.” he plants a kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds before he pulls back. i nod and walk down the hallway to his room, closing the door behind me. i take a couple minutes to change before opening the door and peeking my head out.
“you can come in, Trev.” i call down the hallway, and it’s not but a second before i see him jogging down the hall. he enters the room and jumps onto the middle of the bed, patting the space beside him.
“come cuddle with me. tell me everything i missed while i was gone.” i crawl up the bed, snuggling close into his arms and he tightens them around me, pressing my face to his chest.
“we talked every day.” i laugh. “i think you know more about what happened while you were gone than some of the people who were actually here.”
Trevor chuckles for a few moments before he speaks again, his voice somber.
“you know i hate having to leave you, right?” i look up at his face, about to make a joke but see the guilt-ridden expression on his face.
“yeah, no, i know that. it’s your job, Trev. does it suck being away from you? sure. but you’re good at what you do and the team needs you.” i raise my hand to his face, brushing my thumb against his cheek.
“are you upset? about what i did?” he looks so fragile, like my next words could make or break him.
“what? punching Drew? no. honestly, it brought me some relief.” i confess. “i’ve always been too afraid to outright reject him. i never gave any reason to think i liked him, so i thought maybe he would take the hint that i didn’t have those kinds of feelings for him. but obviously i was wrong. i feel way more guilty than i am upset. if i had just told him i didn’t like him, there wouldn’t’ve been a reason for you to have to fight him.”
“don’t.” the word comes out stern. his voice dropping into what almost seems like a growl. “don’t blame yourself. you may not have explicitly stated that you didn’t like him like that, but you showed it over and over again in your actions. i’ve seen the way you pull away from his touches, how you make up excuses to distance yourself when he says something too romantic, the faces you pull when he talks about how ‘special’ your friendship is. not to mention the fact that you have a boyfriend, and yet he still pulled that shit.”
i nod along to his words and press my head back onto his chest.
“so, you’re really not mad at me?” he asks.
“i’m really not mad at you. why would i be? you protected me. i’m grateful for you.” he gives me a brief squeeze, laying a kiss on the top of my head.
“i know how long you guys have been friends. i don’t know, i guess i thought maybe you would be mad that i may have ruined your friendship with him. i know you’ve chosen me before but-” his drops into a whisper before he speaks again. “i thought you might choose him over me this time.”
i pull back, shifting up in the bed more so that my face is directly in line with his. cradling his face with my hands and placing my forehead against his, i look into his eyes.
“i’ll never leave you alone.” i whisper. “Trev, you mean so much to me. is it gonna be different not having Drew as a friend anymore? yeah, i’ve known him since i was fourteen. but by now, with how he and i’s friendship was going, it never would’ve lasted. but you, you make me so happy. you make me feel seen, and heard, and loved. i love waking up next you, and going on coffee dates, and our movie nights. i love talking with you about stupid things, and staying up listening to you talk about your games. i love celebrating wins with you, and i love that you let me be there for you after a loss. i never loved him the way i love you. i would always choose you.”
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herofics · 7 months
Text
Dangers of winter
A/N: Hahahahaaaaa, Dabi angst yet again, surprise, surprise… Kinda toxic I guess though, and maybe passively suicidal reader?
“I’m not watching you kill yourself over this, I’m done!” you yelled at him. “I’m done with your bullshit revenge plan, and I’m done with you!”
“Didja honestly think I’d just let you go? How am I supposed to know you’re not goin to blab my plans to some barfly the next time you decide to get drunk?”
“No fear of that once I’m away from you, you’re the one who drove me to drink anyway” you spat, turning your back to him to leave the room.
“I’m not through with you yet!” Dabi growled as he quickly stepped between you and the door.
He pressed his hand against the door, and you could see it getting charred around the contact point.
“What are you gonna do? Hurt me? Kill me? Go ahead, it’s better than watching you die over some stupid revenge fantasy!” you exclaimed angrily, starting to tear up.
There it was, the truth. You would rather die than have to live with losing him.
“I can’t keep doing this, I-I just can’t” you cried, falling to your knees and burying your face in your hands.
Dabi was quite honestly baffled. You weren’t usually like this, actually you were never like this, he had barely ever seen you cry. You’d never shown this kind of desperation, this kind of despair. No one had, not for him anyway. Your show of feelings wasn’t exactly breaking his heart, but it did make him feel… something.
“Do you think that I’m gonna give up on everythin I’ve worked for, just because you shed a few tears?” Dabi said with a mocking tone.
If he hurt you enough, maybe, just maybe, you would be free of him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to feel whatever this was, and he could go on with his quest for revenge. It would be better for both of you to part ways, but somewhere in that burnt, black heart of his, he didn’t really want to let you go. He wanted to keep you, all to himself, for the time he had left. He was selfish like that, and he was well aware of it, he just didn’t really care. Dabi felt conflicted. He didn’t want to let you go, but he also didn’t want to make you suffer like this.
“Get out then, if that’s what you want. You’re useless anyway” he scoffed.
You could feel your breath hitch in your throat when you heard what he said. You raised your head from your hands, tears still rolling down your cheeks, noticing he was looking down at you with that familiar burning hate in his eyes. You’d seen that hatred so many times before, but never directed at you, never had he looked at you like that.
You didn’t say anything. You just got up from the floor, wobbling a little, before he stepped away from the door and you could slip out. You couldn’t even look at him anymore, it was too painful.
You were gone, things were as they should be. He was alone, as he should be.
You didn’t know where you would go, you didn’t want to go home. Even though you had left your jacket at Dabi’s place, it was like you couldn’t even feel the cold. It was snowing and the wind had started to pick up, but you didn’t even notice it. You just wandered until you were too tired to move. It didn’t take long in that cold for you to be in such a state.
“I don’t care anymore…” you muttered as you fell down in the snow. “I don’t care…”
You couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. Maybe you could just let yourself succumb to the cold. Dying of hypothermia was like going to sleep, or so you’d heard. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad way to go.
Just before you lost consciousness, you thought you heard someone calling your name as they approached, but who would do that? There was no one who cared about you anymore. 
Dabi felt like an idiot when he finally found you, actually he felt like an idiot the moment you were out the door. He had left his place with your jacket in hand, because you’d forgotten it. The last thing he wanted was for you to die of hypothermia. He headed in the direction of your place, hoping to basically throw the jacket at you and leave.
Dabi jogged the usual route to your apartment, but he didn’t see you. He got this pit in his stomach, if you weren’t here, where were you? One of your friends must have come to pick you up. Even though he tried to convince himself of that, the pit in his stomach just wouldn’t go away.
Dabi returned to his apartment building, kicking frozen chunks of snow out of his way. When he was almost there, he noticed someone laying in the snow. He took a few steps closer, his heart in his throat. It was you, dammit.
Dabi closed the distance between you, calling your name as he fell on his knees next to you.
He saw the moment you closed your eyes, the moment you gave up and let go. He wasn’t going to let you go, he refused to. It was a different thing to not have you in his life, he could bear that, but to know you were dead because of him, that he couldn’t take.
Dabi picked you up and carried you back to his apartment. You were so cold in his arms and it terrified him.
“Don’t you die on me now” he muttered as he set you down in his bed.
He laid as many blankets on you as he could find, which was only three. He then took his jacket and shirt off, before climbing under the covers with you. He pulled you close and held you.
Dabi’s normal temperature was quite a bit higher than someone’s without a fire quirk, so he was basically a portable heater. He knew he shouldn’t turn up the heat too much, because you were so close to him as to not hurt you, but he had to get you warm, he had to.
Dabi didn’t know how long he laid there with you, but once a quiet “warm” escaped your lips, and you snuggled closer to him, he felt like he could finally breathe. Maybe this was what it felt like to love someone, to feel like you couldn’t breathe when they weren’t well and safe.
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cyncerity · 2 months
Text
Holy fucking shit the Dad’s Troubles AU story?? That i’ve been teasing since January??? It’s finally done??????
this took so fucking long that i’m debating posting an alternate and an extended unedited version that’s how many times i’ve written and re-written this thing.
anyway without further ado, the posts you’ll need for the context of this story are here and here, and the art teaser is here (if you’ve been keeping up with the Dad’s Troubles AU since 2022 you probably don’t need the context lol, but it has been a while so they’re there for whoever needs a refresher)
@quotethemenevervore (sorry if that’s the wrong account to tag btw) you seemed very excited for this story so i figured i’d tag you lol
tw: soft, safe vore, panic attack ig???
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” “I know, but, c’mon…we have to tell him eventually.”
Charlie sat on Schlatt’s living room table, the human leaning his head on his palm to be at a closer level to the borrower he was talking to. This was the same conversation they’d been having on and off for months now: should Ted be let in on the secret that Charlie wasn’t human. Obviously, there was a clear answer for them: eventually. Now, when ‘eventually’ actually was…that was a different problem.
“Do I need to remind you what happened the first and only time you met him in person?” Schlatt asked, to which Charlie just groaned. “You have to bring up the fish thing every time, don’t you? Cause yeah, I remember almost drowning, thank you very much.” “It’s more so the principle that he would throw you out a fuckin window, but you get my point. He clearly doesn’t see you as a person.” As much as Schlatt always hated to think about that, it was something him and Ted could never agree on. Ted was of the opinion that borrowers were basically just bipedal rats, and nothing Schlatt had done to convince him otherwise had worked. “But what if I changed that?” Charlie challenged, standing to pace the space in front of Schlatt. “He knows me, he’s known me for years. We’re friends, fuck, I’d say the three of us are best friends! There’s no way he’d just forget all of that the second he sees what height I am, right?” He finished, looking up at Schlatt with something akin to fear. Like he wanted Schlatt to tell him he was right, that it would all work out. But he couldn’t, because didn’t have an answer to what Ted would do. Schlatt sighed. “Honestly, I don’t kn-“
The doorknob to the apartment shook. It was locked, Schlatt always locked it when it was just him in the apartment. Schlatt and Charlie froze. Was Quackity trying to get in? Cause he wasn’t supposed to be home for a good few more hours, hence the door being locked. They were both absolutely silent, waiting for any confirmation that it was their mutual friend, until they heard a few utterances of cursing from behind the locked door.
“God fucking damnit, where are the keys Schlatt gave me-“
Ted.
~~~
Shit, shit. Schlatt had totally forgotten he gave Ted a space pair of keys for when he was visiting. Fuck, fuck, what the fuck should he do with Charlie?
He heard the key turn in the lock.
All of the borrower tunnels were too far away for the remaining few seconds he had till Ted walked in. There’d be no disguising that he was talking to Charlie. Charlie, who was part of a species that Ted believed couldn’t talk. He wouldn’t be able to explain himself.
He heard a creak as the door started to open.
Did he have a pocket? Shit, no, he had a crew neck and the pockets on his jeans were too tight and small for Charlie to fit in. There was only one other option he could think of. Fuck. Charlie, like him, had been frozen from shock this whole time. That would probably make this easier. He quickly lowered himself down and tried to grab Charlie to shove him in his mouth.
“Schlatt!” He heard Ted shout, and suddenly, without warning, Charlie moved.
Frantically, almost blindly running at him with no warning and accidentally falling past his hand and into his mouth, and everything went to shit.
~~~
Oh no. Speak of the devil. Ted. God dammit, why did he have to show up right when he and Schlatt were talking about him. And why did Schlatt even give him a spare key?
He heard the key turn in the lock.
Ok, fuck, how the fuck was he supposed to get out of this one? He didn’t have time to run, he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that. And contrary to how often he joked about the window and the almost-getting-eaten-by-a-fish thing, it was actually a pretty horrifying experience that he would not like to relive, thank you very much.
He heard a creak as the door started to open.
Shit, what should he do? What could he do?! He was out in the open, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide unless Schlatt had pockets or- wait. Schlatt. Schlatt…himself could be a place to hide. He’d seen Tubbo do it, that had been a long fuckin conversation after walking in on that, but it was safe. Probably a hell of a lot safer than being anywhere near Ted. But was he really willing to end up down his best friends throat?
“Schlatt!” He heard Ted shout and, apparently, he was.
He broke free from his panicked state and immediately sprinted towards Schlatt, planning to climb his shirt to his mouth and just hoping to god Schlatt would get the hint. However, he apparently hadn’t noticed that Schlatt had the same idea as him.
“Schlatt?” Ted asked.
Charlie ran full speed into something jarringly warm and wet. The change in…well, everything environmentally made him yell, as any and all light was suddenly stripped from him.
The door clicked closed, Ted was in the room with them. Thank god they’d been facing away from the door.
Charlie felt himself be thrown backward in the dark space, losing his balance as one of his legs caught in something that started to pull him down.
Oh fuck, that was weird, but it was fine. He wanted this, he decided to do this, he…he was getting eaten. It’s fine. This is fine, it’s Schlatt for fucks sake. And yet, the part of his brain that hadn’t quite registered that the “getting eaten” thing was actually his plan, told him to fight, to try and free his leg from the throat that threatened to drag him deeper into the giant.
“Are you ok, man?” Charlie heard Ted ask from beyond the closed teeth around him. He was getting closer.
The darkest split a bit, and something else entered the mouth with him for a moment. He couldn’t see well enough through his spit covered glasses and small amount of light what they were, but he guessed pretty immediately when they got a grip of his arms and started to shove him down the esophagus. Fingers. Schlatt pinned Charlie’s arms at his sides and shoved more of him down.
The fingers retracted from the mouth when only his legs remained out of the throat. He felt the environment around him change and realized what was happening. His struggling increased tenfold, kicking desperately at the teeth and gums around him to no avail, as the giant swallowed one last time and sent him fully into the throat.
~~~~~
“Schlatt!” Ted yelled, running over to see Schlatt holding his throat, unable to breathe. Ted went to wrap his arms around him to perform the heimlich, but Schlatt was thankfully aware enough to push him away at the last second. Unfortunately, that move made him send himself crashing onto the floor. Ted rushed over again, worry plastered on his face as Schlatt held up a hand, signaling to stop. So, Ted did just that, running off to do god knows what. Schlatt, meanwhile, could feel Charlie get stuck just a short way before he stopped blocking his windpipe. Schlatt pushed at his throat, swallowing frantically, pounding at his chest, anything to get Charlie down faster. He didn’t realize just how much…bigger Charlie was than his son. Charlie was a grown man, and tall by borrower standards, too. Compare that to Tubbo who was short by all standards and Schlatt realized he may have bitten off more than he could chew. Charlie seemed to be helping it go faster somewhat by squirming his way down, though he doubted it was on purpose. Though maybe this was a thought he could have later since at the moment he was very focused on not choking and dying on his best friend.
It was when Schlatt was starting to black out that Ted came back with a glass of water, not even giving Schlatt time to process it before forcefully opening his mouth and pouring it down his throat, giving Schlatt the ability to swallow Charlie down farther and finally unblock him from his windpipe. Schlatt fell to the ground again with a gasp, trying to drag as much air into his lungs as humanely possible. He placed a hand on his chest as he finally, fucking finally, felt Charlie make his way closer towards the stomach. He dissolved into a coughing fit on the floor, Ted slowly lowering himself to sit next to him. Schlatt wasn’t even gonna try to explain anything to Ted yet, though. Not until Charlie ended up where he needed to be and he could stop worrying.
He did his best to keep a poker face while he felt a much heavier weight than usual drop into his stomach. He really hadn’t thought about how much bigger Charlie was than Tubbo, but it was more noticeable now than ever.
Immediately he felt a flurry of movement from his stomach, limbs flailing and Charlie trying to get accustomed to whatever it was like in there. Schlatt squeezed his stomach in so Charlie wouldn’t trigger something audible that he’d have to make an excuse over, but quickly found that the borrower’s whole frame was shaking.
Schlatt only had time to worry for a second before he was snapped out of his shock with a hand clap onto his shoulder, snapping his attention back to what was happening on the outside. “Schlatt, you with me, man?” “..Yeah! Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine.” Right, he had an act to put on for Ted. “What the fuck were you choking on?” “Oh nothing, so, what brings you here?” Schlatt asked, trying to redirect the conversation. He didn’t know what excuse he would use for that shit show if he needed one, but he doubted he’d be able to convincingly lie to Ted about it with Charlie right there listening. But it wasn’t like he could say the truth. ‘Sorry about that Ted, I was choking on our third podcast member because he’s scared you’ll hurt him but don’t worry, he’s in my stomach now so he’s safe from, again, exclusively you.’
Yeah, no.
“Well, I came over to surprise you. Didn’t think you’d almost die or something.” Ted said, and Schlatt chuckled a bit in response. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect anyone to break into my apartment.” Schlatt stood, silently thankful for Ted helping him up as he adjusted to the added weight in his middle. He felt Charlie sway a bit as he stood, though there was significantly less fighting back on Charlie’s end at the movement. Thank fuck. “You down here for any reason other than to scare me half to death?” Schlatt said, pacing over to his fridge under the guise of grabbing food while he silently felt for any signal from Charlie now that his back was turned to Ted. “Yeah, actually.” Ted said, leaning against the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen.
Schlatt hummed to pretend he was paying attention while pressing into his stomach a few quick times. Short short long. Long long long, long short long. ‘U-O-K-?’ He knew Charlie could translate it, he was the one that taught Schlatt Morse code. He was waiting for two taps back; their signal for yes. Hell, he’d even take one tap for no, something. Hopefully, Charlie would get the hint that he was ok.
“…Schlatt?” Ted questioned, again snapping Schlatt out of his worries again. Right. The act. “Sorry, must’ve zoned out, what were you saying?” “I was saying I’m here for a reason. You’re not the only one of my friends in the area, but surprise! I’m staying down here for a few months to do content!” Ted looked to Schlatt expectantly, and Schlatt did his best to be happy for Ted, but he was sure his smile looked forced. He didn’t know if it was his worry for Charlie or just the direction the conversation was headed in, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that he knew wasn’t Charlie’s fault. He did his best to ignore it. “That’s great, man! Sounds like it’ll be fun.” “That’s the goal.” Ted answered. “Do a couple collab videos, some vlogs, it’ll be sick-” “Mhm.” Schlatt responded while Ted continued talking, tapping out the morse again. And again. And again for good measure. If this wouldn’t get Charlie to do something, anything, then something was wrong. He waited a few seconds before beginning the pattern again with more force, starting to wonder if Charlie had just passed out at that point, until-
Something. An arm or leg or something kicking out where he’d been pressing in, hard, and he recoiled his hand away immediately with a wince of pain. Charlie packed way more of a punch than Tubbo or Tommy did, that’s for damn sure. He wanted to try communication again, though he was smart enough to realize that his physical gestures were not appreciated in the slightest. So he did nothing and waited. He waited a few seconds, maybe even a few minutes, until, finally…he felt two weak taps back.
~~~
Falling headfirst into the pitch black stomach of his best friend was about as pleasant as Charlie expected it would be.
Immediately almost all of his senses were absolutely fucked, the wetness and humidity of the air around him clinging to his skin and fogging his glasses. The spongey walls around him gave way far too easily for him to properly get his balance, and he kept face planting into the bottom of the organ every time he tried to right himself. There was also liquid up to his waist (water, spit, he didn’t know, nor did he care to at the moment) which he kept almost fucking drowning himself in since he couldn’t stay upright long enough or see enough to figure out which way was up, down, forwards, backwards-
The walls suddenly pressed in on him, making Charlie squeak in fear almost inaudibly, pinning him in place thankfully right side up and out of the water, and he realized he was shaking. Why was he shaking? He was fine, he knew that, he knew that, why was he scared? He trusted Schlatt, this wasn’t even the human’s idea, it was his, he chose this.
The walls slowly began to release their hold on him as his thoughts started to suffocate him more than the stomach could ever.
Why, why the fuck was this so awful for him? He was safe, safe, he knew it was safe, he’d seen this happen a hundred times.
The walls began to press in periodically.
He’d willingly hung out with Schlatt and Quackity both when he knew that they had Tubbo inside. Tubbo was fine then, so he’s fine now. Science. Logic. He was safe. He wasn’t food. He wasn’t food.
short short long
Schlatt cared, cared enough about his safety to let him use his body as a barrier between him and someone who could hurt him. Would hurt him. His body. His giant, dangerous body that had been able to swallow him. His body that could kill him at any moment.
long long long
But he wouldn’t. Schlatt cared. He wasn’t food. He was safe. He was safe. Safe within his human friend. Safe from his human friend. Guarded inside a creature that could kill him from a creature that could kill him.
long short long
But his human friend wouldn’t kill him. But his human friend would, almost did, kill him.
The walls were still closing in on him.
Fuck. No, wrong human, Schlatt wants to protect him. Schlatt is his friend. Ted is his friend, their friend.
The walls are closing in periodically. Again and again.
He’s suffocating.
Ted would, almost did, kill him. He almost drowned, was almost swallowed, if it hadn’t been for Schlatt. He was almost swallowed. He was almost swallowed. He was swallowed. He was swallowed, he had been swallowed-
Something pressed in on the stomach again hard enough to force the wall to make contact with him, and in his hysterics Charlie kicked it as hard as he could manage, hearing a sharp hiss of pain be sucked into the lungs above him. Fuck. No, fuck, what is he doing? This is Schlatt. Schlatt. Schlatt, who’s never been anything but good to him, who’s treated him with nothing but respect despite what he was, who raised a borrower child and did a damn good job of it, too. Why…why was he acting like this? He trusts Schlatt, he’s literally thrown his life into Schlatt’s hands more times than he can count, why…why was this so much more difficult?
Fuck, focus on the task at hand. Deep breaths. 4, 7, 8. Again, 4, 7, 8. Charlie forced himself to think of the things around him. Liquid, heat, the weird spongey walls that had been caving in. There’s a good place to start. With the fog of his hysteria clearing, Charlie tried to remember what the pattern of the walls pressing in was. Short short long…long long long…long short long. Charlie let out a breathy, humorless laugh. “You ok?” Schlatt had been asking. He suddenly felt a little bit dumb for his panicked state earlier.
Struggling to push himself to what he was now sure was the front of the stomach with his legs still weak from fear, he settled himself against the wall to better hear exactly what was going on outside. Finally, he answered Schlatt’s question by tapping back twice, letting the human know he was ok, even if the shaking hadn’t quite let up yet. He laughed to himself again, this time more genuinely, as he heard the immediate sigh of relief from above him.
Yeah, he was sure he was safe.
~~~
Charlie was ok. Holy fuck, Schlatt could have cried with relief. He didn’t hurt his best friend, that was a weight off his shoulders. “I did want to talk with you about something though, just to get your opinion on it.” “Sure, what’s up man?” Schlatt said, attention fully on Ted for the first time in this whole conversation. “It’s about Charlie.”
Schlatt froze, and he could feel Charlie tense up. “Uh…what about him?” “I just, i don’t know…it’s hard to explain.” Ted frustratedly motioned with his hands and tried to explain more before sighing. “Did i do something wrong?” Ted said, a genuine look of confusion and hurt in his eyes. “Everytime we talk, it’s fine. We’re friends, and we have been for a while, and I know he’s on the same page as me. But any time I ask him anything vaguely personal, even if it’s just shit like his hair color or mcdonald’s order or fucking anything, it’s like we’re back to being strangers. Like I don’t have the right as his friend to know shit like that. The only thing I know about him is his first name and honestly? It wouldn’t even bother me if he wasn’t so close with you.” Schlatt hadn’t expected that, and from what he could tell of Charlie relaxing and pressing closer into the front wall of his stomach to hear more, he hadn’t expected it either. “Ted, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…well, for one, Charlie has known me for a lot longer than he’s known you. Of course he’s more comfortable with me. But it’s not that he doesn’t trust you or anything. I promise he considers you one of his best friends. Even when it’s just us talking, he’s never said anything about you that would imply anything else.” “It’s not that I don’t believe that, but I just…sorry, maybe I’m being selfish here. If he doesn’t want to meet me it’s not my business to pry, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently.” Ted finished, staring down at his hands. Schlatt…wasn’t sure where to go from there. He felt horrible for keeping such a massive secret from one of his oldest friends, especially about something that’d clearly been causing so much inner turmoil, but he couldn’t betray Charlie like that.
“Schlatt, can you hear me?” Charlie suddenly interjected. Schlatt discreetly tapped his stomach twice for confirmation and Charlie continued. “Ok, then i’m gonna need you to repeat after me, got it?” Schlatt tried not to let the confusion he felt read on his face for Ted to see, but he tapped twice again anyway. He sat in silence for a few seconds before Charlie took a deep breath and started talking.
“But, y’know, Charlie and I were talking about doing something with the podcast soon. We were gonna bring it up to you later, but since you’re in town we could move it up.” Schlatt repeated, and Ted looked up, puzzled. “What were you thinking?” Charlie paused again breathing deeply, though Schlatt could feel his tail swaying in anxiety. However, when he finally spoke up, his voice read nothing but confidence. “We were thinking we could do a few in person recordings.”
Schlatt froze. Had Charlie said what he thought he said? No way in hell was he serious. “Repeat it, Schlatt. I’ve thought it through, i mean it.” Holy shit he was serious. And so, he repeated. God, he wished that Charlie had been able to see the look of utter shock on Ted’s face. “You’re joking.” He said, and Schlatt shook his head while waiting for the next prompt. “Charlie wants to meet you, he’s just…afraid he won’t live up to your expectations.” Schlatt repeated, and Ted scoffed. “Please, that’s the least he should be concerned about. At this point the guy could be a serial killer and I’d still be thrilled to meet him.” Schlatt could tell when the truth hit him fully, because Ted’s expression brightened tenfold. He looked like he’d just won the lottery. “I just, I can’t believe it! Holy shit, I’m gonna meet the Charlie Slimecicle!” “Yeah, me either.” Charlie sighed and Schlatt repeated, though he said it for both of them.
After some more casual conversation about Ted’s plans and ideas for the newly decided live podcast recording, Ted finally said goodbye, promising to let Charlie know how excited he was. Schlatt let out a breath of relief he didn’t even know he was holding when Ted shut the door behind him. He locked it immediately and turned to lean back against the door. “Holy shit that was stressful.” “You’re telling me.”
Schlatt facepalmed as the weight of what he’d just signed on to doing hit him, sliding his way down the door into a sitting position. Charlie felt his stomach drop at the action as well. “Sooo…” Charlie started, lightly kicking at the wall in front of him. “This is weird.” “Very.”
Silence.
“Are you ok?” “Huh?” “Are you ok.” Schlatt repeated. “…yes.” Charlie answered,not exactly confidently, but surely. “I am now, at least. I just…panicked. It’s fucking weird in here and I just- it just took me a bit to handle it, I think. To get over myself cause I know it’s safe and I trust you. It’s just that the idea of getting eaten has been drilled into my head as ‘horrifying and deadly’ for so long that I just lost it for a bit. Fun part of being raised by a traditional colony, am I right? Sorry for kicking you, by the way.” “Don’t worry about that, man.” Schlatt responded, lightly pressing in on his stomach as if asking Charlie if he was ok with contact now. When he didn’t get a negative response from Charlie, he pressed a bit harder and began rubbing where he felt his friend. “I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling like right now. I mean, getting swallowed whole? By a creature over ten times bigger than you? That sounds downright fuckin terrifying. That’s some hollywood horror movie bullshit. I don’t even want to imagine what me choking on you felt like from your point of view. I have the easy job, you got eaten alive, you have every right to have panicked. But…I am glad you trust me that much.” “Thanks, cause I do. And for the record; i’m feeling wet. Very wet and sticky and I can just tell that my fucking glasses are fogged up even though it’s dark enough that i shouldn’t care, but i do.” Charlie complained, making Schlatt laugh.
More awkward silence.
“Why the fuck did you do that??” Schlatt asked suddenly, and Charlie groaned, pushing his glasses into his face with the heels of his palms. Despite the lack of clarification, he knew exactly what Schlatt was asking about. “I don’t know, dude, I panicked! I just…” Charlie sighed, dropping his hands. “He deserves to know. And no better time than the present, I guess. Besides, I have actually been thinking about it. Maybe if he takes it well, we can make it public and some fans will be able to see that we borrowers aren’t what they think we are.” “And if he doesn’t?” “I…I don’t know.” Charlie admitted. “I want to think that he’ll try to change how he thinks of me for the sake of our friendship, but I truly just don’t know.”
“Well, I’m behind you, whatever happens.” Schlatt said. Charlie smiled. “I know.” he answered, confident and happy in knowing that he truly did believe that.
31 notes · View notes
minghaoyoudoin · 1 year
Text
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pairing: best friend!hyunsuk x fem!reader
genre: fluffy smut mostly
words: 6.5k (zoinks)
rating: 18+ ONLY!!! fr don't even think about it, minors
warnings: the concept of virginity, mention of and consumption of food, lots of kissing, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (don't be stupid like these two), hyunsuk is hung, some minor biting and hair pulling, creampie, aftercare, I'm sure I missed some but that's all I can think of lol
a/n: I'm baaaaaaack 😈 this was requested a very long time ago by my lovely 🐢 anon, I'm so sorry it's been so long! with this, I've finally written for all the cix boys mwahahaha. feel free to keep the requests coming, I'm finally done with school so my tumblr shenanigans are back on schedule!
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Hyunsuk looked like he was going to vomit.
You stared at him across the small dining table, your forkful of pasta frozen several inches from your mouth. His usually golden skin had turned ashen, his face so pale it was actually bordering on green. Whatever he was thinking about to make him look this way was making the other restaurant guests stare.
“What is going on with you?” You blurted at last. You set your fork back on your plate as Hyunsuk’s eyes flicked up to meet yours. Panic weighed heavy over his warm brown irises, a blanket of fog to mute their hue.
Your best friend grimaced and swallowed thickly, his strong throat flexing. God, you were so tired of noticing things like that. “I think I ate something I shouldn’t have,” he choked out at last.
It was a lie. A poor one, too. “I asked you to lunch so I could ask you a question. Why are you the one about to throw up with nerves?” Your teasing helped disguise the anxiety eating away at you, but you weren’t completely sure if Hyunsuk bought it.
In all honesty, your reason for inviting Hyunsuk out today had everything to do with the fact you noticed things like his adam’s apple bobbing.
“You know I hate when people do that,” Hyunsuk said roughly. He took several deep gulps of his water, your eyes tracking the movement of his throat. “’Sukie, we need to talk’,” his voice rose several octaves to imitate yours, “’Can I ask you something over lunch?’. Do you realize I’ve been shitting myself since then?”
You laughed and reached across the table to pat the top of Hyunsuk’s head, at which he scoffed indignantly. “You know it’s nothing bad, Hyunsuk. I would have stormed over to your place to talk right away if that were the case.”
Hyunsuk had been your best friend for nearly a decade now. You knew him better than you knew yourself most days, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun with him every now and then. If the roles were reversed you were certain he’d do the same thing.
The majority of the green tinge to Hyunsuk’s skin subsided as he finished the last of his water. “Fine then.” He motioned in your direction and finally took a bite of the sandwich in front of him. “Go on, ask your question.”
You opened your mouth and promptly stalled. You hesitated for several moments, abruptly nervous again. When you had played and replayed this scenario in your head earlier, you hadn’t actually considered what his real reaction would be. Would he laugh at you? Storm out of the restaurant? Declare he was done being your best friend for all eternity?
Hyunsuk raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
“We’ve been friends for a really long time.” It was not what you had intended to say.
“Yes?” He looked more confused now, though it was obvious his curiosity outweighed any annoyance. “What does that have to do with anything?”
You ignored him and pushed on, “Have I had a boyfriend in all that time?” Hyunsuk frowned and looked at a point above your head, obviously trying to remember.
“No.”
“Exactly.” You leaned forward in your chair, your pasta forgotten. “I think I’m going insane. Like, actually. No matter how much I thought about it I couldn’t figure out why, and then a couple weeks ago I realized. I’m frustrated.”
“…Frustrated.”
“Yes. I’m restless all the time, I can’t concentrate. I can’t even be alone in the same room with you without—”
“Hold on.” You cut yourself off as Hyunsuk raised a hand to stop you. His other one fidgeted with the white tablecloth, worrying the edge between his thumb and forefinger. “You can’t be in the same room as me?”
You realized now how that sounded when spoken aloud. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I…” You hesitated again, anxiety gripping your throat in earnest. “I’m twenty and I’m still a virgin. It’s driving me up a wall and—I, well…”
Hyunsuk looked like he’d seen a ghost. His eyes were wide, though they had taken on a different quality now than the panic that had been in them earlier. You couldn’t place it. “Say it,” he urged.
You leaned further towards him. He mirrored your movement, his face close enough to share breath. You glanced around to ensure no one was obviously eavesdropping and, once satisfied, you took a deep breath.
“Hyunsuk, I want you to fuck me.”
You internally smacked yourself. Why would you say it like that?
Hyunsuk released the breath he’d been holding in a strained exhale. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, brown eyes studying your face. You tried to ignore the disappointment rearing in your chest. You’d been expecting more of a reaction from him.
After what could have been minutes or hours, he quietly asked, “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why me? I know we’re best friends, but you’ve never mentioned anything close to this before. Are you even attracted to me like that?”
Oh yeah, this would hurt to admit. Reluctantly and unable to meet his eyes, you nodded tightly. “I wouldn’t be asking if I weren’t, idiot.”
You knew he was grinning without having to look at him. He was still near vibrating with nerves. “Okay. That’s… good to know. I just… are you just using me to ‘get it over with’? I don’t want to be that to you. I don’t want to ruin our friendship like that.”
At this, your eyes snapped back to his face. “It won’t, I swear it. And you aren’t just some tool I can use, you know. It takes two and all that, so if you aren’t up for it then I’m okay with never bringing it up again.” You paused, trying to gather your thoughts. “I suppose when I figured out I was frustrated sexually like this, I realized there’s no one else I could imagine doing it with. Someone has to be the first and I want it to be you.”
Hyunsuk was still staring at you with that unfamiliar gleam in his eye, something you now realized might be desire.
A new thought crashed through your fragile wall of hope and wiped the smile off your face. “Do you…” You cleared your throat. “Do you not… like me like that?”
Hyunsuk laughed softly, his expression gentling. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do. You’re, well, you’re you.”
That was as close as he would get to calling you beautiful, you supposed. Even so, it was enough to stoke the flames of hope in your heart higher. “Then that’s settled. I know it’s a lot to ask, trust me, I do. If you need time to think about it I completely understand—”
Hyunsuk was out of his chair before you could blink. He looked close to throwing up again, this time with his new knowledge rather than the lack thereof.
“I just need a minute to think.” Hyunsuk began to stride away but froze as soon as he turned around. He looked down at you, his expression pained. “I promise I’ll call you, okay? I swear it."
Despite yourself, this helped you relax. When you spoke, you meant every word, “Take all the time you need. I’ll love you either way.”
Hyunsuk flinched, just barely. He tossed some cash onto the table for lunch and walked away, his long legs carrying him much too fast. You watched him until he vanished around the corner, the anxiety in your chest only worsening when he was out of sight.
What have I done?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You found the only way to forget how horny you were was to bake. It didn’t matter what it was. Cupcakes, brownies, cobbler, muffins, you name it—anything that allowed you to focus on a recipe and quiet your mind was good enough for you.
The second you’d gotten home from lunch you busted out every baking-related item you owned. You’d started with a cake, then cupcakes because you accidentally made way too much batter. While they were in the oven, you took the opportunity to take a long shower.
You went through the motions of washing yourself on autopilot. First shampoo, rinse, then conditioner. Shave while the conditioner soaked. Rinse. Wash your body, then your face. The routine was second-nature, unfortunately, which meant it did nothing to distract you from your thoughts. Even after finishing, you stood under the scalding water for as long as you could, just staring at the wall.
You’d scared Hyunsuk away. You knew it in your bones. His promise to call you had made you feel better in the moment, but every time you obsessively checked your phone the screen was blank. At this point you didn’t even want him to say yes. Honestly you wished you’d never brought it up in the first place. You weren’t quite sure what you’d do if you lost your best friend over something as stupid as your virginity.
You didn’t get out of the shower until the water ran too cold to bear. Your teeth clattered violently as you pulled on underwear and one of Hyunsuk’s sweatshirts, big enough on you that it hung nearly to your knees. Across the front in big, bold letters was the phrase EXTROVERT UNIVERSITY. Perhaps not the most appropriate for you, but certainly accurate for Hyunsuk.
You were brushing the knots out of your wet hair when you finally remembered you had food in the oven. There was no way it had been less than 30 minutes since you got in the shower. You dropped your brush and ran, spewing profanities under your breath as you went.
You expected to see your apartment filled with smoke. Or, best case scenario, open the oven to see a pan of inedible hockey pucks. What you didn’t expect to see, however, was Hyunsuk seated at your kitchen island, slathering butter onto a cupcake.
For several moments you could only stare. Hyunsuk hadn’t noticed you yet, since his back was to you, and he was lightly bobbing his head to whatever music was playing in his airpods. You shook yourself free of your stupor and strode forward so you could lightly cuff the back of his head.
Hyunsuk jumped so hard he nearly fell off his chair. He ripped his airpods from his ears as he whirled around, his eyes comically wide. “Dude, you scared the fuck out of me.”
“I scared you?” You shot back. “You’re the one who used your emergency key to get into my apartment! And you’re eating my food.”
Hyunsuk grinned. “Be glad I did, the oven timer was going off when I walked in. I saved your ass.” You plopped into the barstool next to him, unable to hide your smile. He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. Hyunsuk’s eyes drifted to your chest—more specifically, to the writing printed across it. “Is that my sweatshirt?”
“Your observation skills are incredible. If you hadn’t noticed, I just got out of the shower. Would you prefer I be naked?”
Color flooded Hyunsuk’s cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears. He avoided your eyes, instead watching the cupcake in his hands as he picked it apart. “I guess that’s sort of the point, isn’t it?”
You paused, dumbfounded. Surely you misheard. “Sukie… is that why you’re in my apartment? To fuck me?”
“Would you stop saying it like that?” Hyunsuk huffed, his face impossibly redder. “And… no. Not necessarily. I just don’t like how we left things earlier.”
“Me either. I’m sorry I sprung it on you like that.”
“I’m not sure there’s a better way to ask your best friend to fuck you. Taking me out to lunch was certainly a good start.”
You giggled softly. “I guess that’s true. Want to tell me why you ran off?”
The cupcake in Hyunsuk’s hands was little more than crumbs now. He didn’t answer immediately, much to your dismay, but you allowed him time to gather his thoughts as best he could. Eventually, he asked without meeting your eyes, “In all the time we’ve known each other, have I ever had a girlfriend?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Um, I think there was one. Sophomore year of high school, right?”
Hyunsuk threw you an insulted look. “Are you talking about my partner in chemistry lab? No, dude, I don’t even remember her name.”
“Oh. Then… no, no girlfriends.” Hyunsuk said nothing, he just stared at you expectantly. You looked back, hopelessly confused. “What are you… oh. Oh.” You leaned forward and he looked back at his hands again. “Hyunsuk, you’re a virgin too?”
“Don’t act so surprised.”
“It’s not that, it’s just—I don’t know, I’m confused. How can you still be a virgin? You’re, well, you look like that.” You motioned vaguely at his face, hoping that was all the explaining you needed to do.
“The same could be said about you, you know.”
Your cheeks heated. There he went again, finding a way to call you attractive without explicitly saying it.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You asked.
“I was flustered. You caught me off guard and you were looking at me with so much hope on your face. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
You laughed, earning yourself another dirty look. “Sukie, how could I be disappointed? I can’t exactly throw stones, you know.”
“Still.” Hyunsuk turned to look at you again, this time swiveling in his stool so you were head-on. The look in his eyes was earnest now. “Look, of course I want to have sex with you. The way you asked me earlier gave me the worst fucking boner in the history of boners. You’re just so fucking innocent. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t mean literally. I mean, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?”
Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest. “What do you mean?”
Hyunsuk stood fast enough that looking up at his face nearly gave you whiplash. You copied him in an attempt to even the field but he still towered over your head. “I get a raging hard-on because of you every other day. You’re so unfairly gorgeous that I can’t concentrate when I’m with you. Half the time I’m pretty sure you think I’m an idiot because I can’t even string two sentences together without messing up.” Hyunsuk pushed his hair away from his face, obviously agitated, but he didn’t seem to notice when the strands immediately fell over his eyes again. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Not just that, I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you that exact same second—”
Hyunsuk cut himself off, his chest heaving. The black shirt he was wearing was tight, emphasizing the hard lines of his pecs and defined abdomen. You fought to keep your eyes on his face, though his admission had nearly knocked you flat on your ass.
“You’re…” You swallowed roughly, your eyes burning. “You’re in love with me?”
Hyunsuk gave you a tiny nod, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re in love with me, too, you know.”
He was right, you realized. You hadn’t thought much about it before—you’d purposely tried not to—but now that he said it aloud, there was no way you could deny it.
You loved Hyunsuk.
Hyunsuk loved you back.
“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted. “I guess I could crack a joke to ease the tension but that doesn’t feel appropriate—”
Hyunsuk moved before you could register it. One moment he was frozen, staring at you with wide eyes. The next, his mouth crushed against yours with enough force that you stumbled back a step. His broad arm snaked around your waist to steady you, simultaneously hauling you closer to his chest while his other hand gripped the roots of your hair at the base of your scalp.
You were kissing him back before you’d finished processing the feeling of his mouth on yours. His lips were unbearably soft, warm as they slid against your own. You whimpered quietly at the sensation, at the fact you were finally kissing him—something you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting your whole life for until this very moment.
Hyunsuk’s fingers gripped your ribcage, his hand large enough that his fingertips brushed the underside of your breast. His other hand, still tangled in your hair, forced your head back further, allowing him better access to your mouth.
You remembered your own hands and immediately shoved them between you so you could touch his chest. His heartbeat thundered against your palm, its rhythm mirroring your own. Further south, you were painfully aware of the hard length now straining through his jeans.
You couldn’t get enough. Your hands roved over him constantly, unable to stay in one place for longer than a second. His chest, his arms, his shoulders, his hair—you needed to touch all of him, all at once. Hyunsuk’s muscles tensed everywhere you touched and, when your fingers lightly tugged at his hair, he rewarded you with a small moan into your mouth.
His hips pressed insistently against yours, though you were certain he wasn’t aware of it. His body sought friction the same way yours did, the hot pounding between your thighs making your head spin. Hyunsuk’s hand around your waist moved to join the other one in your hair.
Gently but firmly he tugged your head back so he could look at you. You gazed at him through hooded eyes, your vision hazy with lust. Hyunsuk had an expression on his face you’d never seen before, one that would come back to visit you in wet dreams for years to come.
“Tell me you’re still sure.” He pulled the roots of your hair for emphasis, earning a surprised moan from you. Hyunsuk groaned. “Please.”
“I’m sure, I’m sure. Please, Hyunsuk.” You barely recognized your own voice. Rough and low, it belonged to someone else entirely.
He needed no more encouragement than that. Without warning Hyunsuk stooped so his shoulder pressed into your abdomen, forcing your whole body over it. You shrieked as he stood, both because of the fact you were being carried over his shoulder without warning and because of the sharp smack he gave your ass.
He didn’t need directions to your bedroom. Hyunsuk spent nights with you more often than not, though this would be the first time you’d done something in your bed with him other than sleeping.
Hyunsuk, despite the ferocity with which he’d kissed you, was gentle as he set you down on the bed. You sprawled on your back and propped yourself up on your elbows, allowing your eyes to rove over his body. He stared down at you with the expression of a man starved, but with every second that passed it turned more into insecurity. He didn’t know what to do now. Shit, neither did you.
You smiled up at him reassuringly. With as much sexiness as you could muster, you beckoned him closer with a finger. “Kiss me, Hyunsuk.”
As if under a spell, he obeyed. Hyunsuk placed one knee on the edge of the mattress and covered your body with his. He held most of his weight on his elbows, caging you in on either side. When he kissed you this time, it was softer. Sweet, like he was trying to savor you.
Your fingers hooked into his belt loops, pulling his hips flush against yours. You both released small groans at the resulting pressure. You allowed your hands to drift up his sides beneath his shirt, dragging it up his torso as you went. His skin was fever-hot and soft over hard muscle.
He sat up only long enough to yank his shirt over his head, immediately dropping down over you again. You touched as much of him as you could reach, the same fervor from earlier rising fast inside you. Everywhere your hands moved made goosebumps erupt on his skin. Hyunsuk broke the kiss, his breathing heavy. You watched him as he looked down at your chest, obviously unsure if he was allowed to touch you.
Wordlessly you sat up, forcing him to do the same. He stared at you in tense silence as you pulled his sweatshirt over your head, leaving you only in your lace underwear and bare skin. Your nipples tightened painfully under his gaze. The only word you could find to describe his expression now was hunger.
When he remained silent for nearly a full minute, you decided he needed encouragement. “Hyunsuk?”
It took him a moment to find words. “Yes?” He breathed, his voice hoarse. His eyes flicked between your face and your breasts, unable to stay on either one for longer than a second.
“If you don’t touch me in the next five seconds I think I might explode.”
He laughed lowly and palmed the impressive erection straining through his jeans. Curiosity nipped at the back of your mind, followed immediately by nerves. With painstaking slowness, he gently pushed you back down on the bed so you were on your back beneath him. He kissed you again, only once, before he began to move down your body. You squirmed as he left small love bites along the column of your throat, your shoulders, your chest. His touch was gentle, too gentle, but each time his teeth grazed your skin earned a breathy moan you couldn’t seem to control.
At last his full lips closed around your right nipple. Your entire body jerked at the unfamiliar sensation, followed immediately by a shaky groan of relief. Your fingers tangled in the roots of his hair as he sucked, his mouth unbearably hot and wet as it worked you. Your heart felt very near to thundering out of your chest.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, almost to himself. His teeth tugged at your nipple for emphasis.
Just when your pleasure began to mingle with pain, he shifted his focus to your other breast. He dragged his tongue across your chest, leaving a hot trail of saliva across your skin, and brought one hand up to knead the breast he had just finished doting on.
Each moan that left your mouth seemed to encourage him further. With every passing second Hyunsuk’s confidence increased, his ministrations turning from gentle exploration to eager sucking. The bright purple marks that bloomed across your skin made you see stars.
“Hyunsuk, please,” you whimpered, both your hands now pulling lightly at his scalp. Hyunsuk wordlessly continued his leisurely journey down your body. He created constellations of kisses across your ribcage, your stomach—his tongue dipped briefly into your navel and ghosted across the hem of your panties.
You genuinely wondered if you would go insane when he looked up at you through his eyelashes, a small smile tugging at his swollen lips. “Where should I touch you, baby?”
You tried not to let your surprise at the pet name show. An unfamiliar sort of pleasure clenched in your core, drawing your attention to the wetness between your thighs. You couldn’t manage to form coherent words—instead, you allowed your legs to fall further open around him, baring your center to his face.
His eyes fell to your core and he released another shuddering breath. His long fingers hooked beneath your panties and pulled them to the side. For the first time, you felt truly exposed. Hyunsuk said nothing, the heartbeat in your clit reaching astronomical levels under his gaze.
He blew gently on your overheated core and your entire body convulsed. “Now seems like a good time to remind you,” he said roughly, “that I don’t know what I’m doing. You’ll have to tell me.”
“You’re doing great, Sukie. Just… do it, please, before I die.” Your hands in his hair tried in vain to push his face where you wanted it, but Hyunsuk was far stronger than you were. He didn’t move an inch, much to your despair. Instead, he helped you pull your panties down your legs until they were completely off, lying forgotten somewhere on the floor.
Without warning, his lips closed around your clit. You let out a sharp gasp, inadvertently yanking on his hair as you did so. Hyunsuk, to your surprise, moaned loudly at the sensation, his hips thrusting against the mattress as he sought to relieve the pressure between his legs. His forearms snaked beneath your ass, his hands large enough that they rested on top of your hipbones and locked you against the bed.
You didn’t know what feeling to focus on. His tongue circled your clit slowly, exerting just enough pressure to make you squirm. Your core spasmed with every movement, but you already knew it wouldn’t be enough.
“More, Hyunsuk, please—” your voice broke off into a moan as he obeyed. Hyunsuk’s teeth grazed your clit at the same moment his lips closed hard around it, sucking forcefully now. You sighed heavily, the breath whooshing from your chest at some of the pressure between your legs finally easing. Your back arched off the mattress and you tugged harder at his hair—you weren’t sure whether you were trying to trap him between your legs or push him away.
“You taste—” he said, his voice muffled against your core “—absolutely incredible.” Hyunsuk released your hipbone so he could position two fingers at your entrance, gathering some of your arousal onto his fingertips before timidly pushing into you. You muttered incoherent praises as his fingers curled, his middle and ring fingers finding your g-spot with ease.
You weren’t going to last. Hyunsuk rammed his fingers into you at an angle at the same time his mouth suckled your clit. You looked down at him, struggling to keep your eyes open, to find him already watching you. He growled against your center—actually growled—as he felt your walls tightening around his fingers.
“Please, harder,” you begged.
“I have to prep you, baby,” Hyunsuk scissored his fingers against your walls for emphasis, eliciting another gasp from you. “I’m big.” He didn’t say it as a brag but rather like it was a known fact, something which inclined you to believe him.
You threw your head back, lost in your pleasure. Hyunsuk’s pace didn’t falter. He continued to moan into your clit, the vibrations ricocheting up your spine and forcing you closer to your orgasm. The lewd sounds of him fingering you were broken only by his muttered praises about tasting so good or being so good for him.
“Hyunsuk, I—I’m gonna—”
“Yes, please, please cum on my tongue—”
Your hips rocked against his face, any sense of shame lost in your desperation to cum. Hyunsuk groaned against you again and it was the final push you needed to catapult off the edge. Lightning streaked through your veins, your orgasm barreling into you with such force that your thighs snapped closed around his head. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, instead feverishly moaning as he tried to prolong your high as long as he could.
“Oh my god.” You pressed your head and shoulders into the mattress, trying and failing to catch your breath. The echoes of your orgasm still zinged through your body long after Hyunsuk removed his fingers from you. When you finally managed to open your eyes, you nearly came again at the sight of Hyunsuk smiling up at you, his lips shining with your arousal.
He examined his glistening fingers and, like he was curious, he placed his fingers between his lips. He blinked innocently at you, smiling either at your taste or the expression on your face. Perhaps both. You groaned shakily and gently massaged his muscular shoulders. Somehow, your orgasm hadn’t calmed you down. You were more turned on than ever, actually, and you had never needed anything the way you needed his cock.
You pulled Hyunsuk up your body by the back of his neck, appreciating the startled noise he made. When his face hovered above yours you pressed an enthusiastic kiss to his lips. He tasted of chocolate cake and you, a flavor which instantly became your new favorite.
“I swear I’m going to return the favor,” you whispered into his mouth, “but if you aren’t fucking me senseless in the next thirty seconds I’m going to scream.”
Hyunsuk nodded fervently, all too excited to oblige you. You helped him out of his pants and underwear, almost too afraid to look down. As he’d warned you earlier, he was big—you could tell that much just by his height—but when his naked length brushed your thigh you seriously worried it wouldn’t fit.
“Raise your legs, baby.” Hyunsuk looped his arms under your knees and hauled them up, holding them there with his hands braced on either side of his ribcage. He kissed the tip of your nose and moved his face so you couldn’t look anywhere other than him. “Please stop me if I hurt you. We’ll go as slow as you need.”
Something in your heart fractured. Hyunsuk, your best friend. Your friend turned lover, and probably the sweetest person you’d ever met.
“I’m okay, Hyunsuk. Promise.”
He nodded, his eyes sharing lust and anxiety in equal measure. You finally allowed yourself to look down as he took his cock in a hand and pumped slowly. Any coherent thought left your head at the sight. Hyunsuk wasn’t just big, he was huge. Long and thick, his cock was flushed an angry red and looking very much like it would hurt.
He dragged the tip between your dripping folds, his precum only adding to the slickness there. Hyunsuk fitted the head into your entrance and pressed a chaste kiss to your brow. He thrusted experimentally, his cock entering you just enough that you both gasped in unison. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, unable to look away from your joined hips.
He captured your mouth in his again, probably to distract you from the pain. Even with the lubrication from both your cum and his, the stretch was enough to steal your breath. Hyunsuk kissed you like he was trying to stay grounded to earth. Low, frenzied moans rumbled in his throat on each pass.
The muscles in his shoulders bunched and flexed beneath your fingers. You gently bit down on the flesh above his collarbone to muffle the sounds coming from you, somewhere between moans and cries.
Your walls wouldn’t seem to give way. He took his time, never trying to force his cock all the way into you or increase his pace to one you couldn’t handle. Just looking at the size of his dick was intimidating enough, but having it inside you was something else entirely. He managed to get halfway in before the pain subsided enough that you began rolling your hips against his, silently begging for more.
He pulled out and, at long last, your walls relaxed as he pushed in. All at once, his cock plunged into you to the hilt, both of you gasping in surprise and pleasure.
“That’s it…” Hyunsuk sighed into your hair, his entire body shaking. “Atta girl.”
You whimpered, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. God, it hurt. He was massive and you were too tight, and holy shit you needed more, more, more.
“Move now, Hyunsuk,” you choked out. Your heels dug into his ass, feeling it flex as he timidly pulled out and thrusted back in. It still hurt, certainly enough to make you grit your teeth, but there was pleasure there now. Something in your lower stomach was already tightening like it had when he used his tongue. The urge to chase that feeling was enormous.
You bit down on his shoulder, harder this time. His hands found both of yours, lacing your fingers together and forcing them to either side of your head. His pace was still unbearably slow, his fear of hurting you blocking him from truly fucking you.
“Hyunsuk—”
You couldn’t finish your plea. His name cut off into a sharp whine as he snapped his hips into yours. He did it again, and again, and you were gone. Your moans were sometimes words, sometimes not, but they were completely wild and all for him.
The hard pace he set had your walls clamping down hard around him with every brush to your g-spot. Hyunsuk’s teeth were fastened onto his bottom lip, his eyes locked on the place your bodies collided, over and over again.
“Oh god, Hyunsuk, please, please—”
Your legs violently shook around his hips, the pain from before replaced only by pleasure now. Your walls spasmed and clenched around him, drawing deep whimpers from his throat.
“You’re so tight, baby.” His voice was unrecognizable. “You like this, hmm? You like your best friend fucking you stupid?”
You nodded, barely registering the words coming from his mouth. You were overcome by pleasure, by the feeling of his cock stretching you out and filling you so full you wouldn’t ever be able to forget it.
With skill you couldn’t understand, Hyunsuk pulled out completely and flipped you roughly onto your stomach. He hauled your ass up and closer to him, his cock easily filling you again before you could mourn the initial loss of it. You gasped, partly from shock and partly from pleasure.
Your forehead fell against your arm as he fucked you from behind, his pace fast enough now that it forced you further up onto the mattress. His body leaned over yours and he kissed any part of you his mouth could reach—your hair, your throat, your shoulders, it didn’t matter to him.
Hyunsuk was getting close now. His moans had turned breathy, his thrusts becoming more erratic as your pussy clenched hard around him. He gripped your waist hard enough to bruise, fucking you on his cock at a ruthless pace.
The hot ball in your stomach grew unbearably tight. You begged him to make you cum, to fill you with him, and his only response was to pound into you harder. When his fingers dove between your legs and found your clit again, your orgasm exploded out of you with the force of a falling star.
Your walls clamped down on his cock hard enough that he couldn’t fully thrust anymore. “Yes, baby, that’s it…” Hyunsuk sighed heavily, allowing his forehead to rest between your shoulder blades. “Cum for me, sweetheart.”
Your lips parted and your entire body locked, unable to produce any sort of sound under the weight of your orgasm. Hyunsuk’s cock twitched inside you, filling you with hot cum in thick bursts. For the first time, you remembered that you weren’t using protection and were extraordinarily grateful for the birth control pills you took regularly.
Your sweat-slick bodies trembled in the wake of your orgasms, his cock still nestled deep inside you as you came down. You weren’t sure how long you stayed that way, just holding each other and panting heavily. At some point Hyunsuk shifted so the two of you were spooning, but he didn’t try to remove himself from you once you were both laying comfortably.
There were tears in your eyes again. You tried to control it but a small sniffle escaped you despite your valiant effort. Hyunsuk was immediately on alert. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced you to look at him, the look on his face a perfect combination of adoration and worry.
“Why are you crying?” He whispered, panicked. “Are you hurt? Did I… Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” You hastily wiped away the tear that had escaped one of your eyes. “Sukie, no. I’m amazing, actually. Better than amazing.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“I’m just… really happy.” You sniffled again, the truth of your words making another tear slide down your cheek.
Hyunsuk didn’t look convinced. He placed a delicate kiss between your eyes and at last removed his cock from you, both of you grunting at the sudden loss. Your pussy throbbed, a deep ache that you were certain would last for the next few days.
You admired your view of his nakedness as he padded into your connected bathroom, coming back a minute later with a washcloth in hand. You watched him through your eyelashes and let your legs fall open again. Gratification echoed through you at the way his cock twitched in response.
He knelt between your thighs and cleaned you gently. “We, um. We made a mess,” he admitted sheepishly. His throat and face flushed a deep, pretty scarlet, all the way to the tips of his ears. You grinned down at him lazily.
“Care to do it again sometime?”
He blushed further, eliciting a giggle from you. Wordlessly he stood and pulled on his underwear—something you protested to no avail—and he gave you a timid kiss before leaving the room. He returned before you could ask where he was going, holding two butter-slathered cupcakes and a bottle of water in his hand.
“I didn’t even get a chance to frost these, you heathen,” you laughed. Still, you accepted the cupcake he offered you and smiled at him warmly in thanks.
“So,” he began, his mouth stuffed, "is the internet right?”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned between you, both still naked except for his underwear and the sheet tucked around you. “Is our friendship ruined because we had sex?”
You pretended to think for a moment. You didn’t really have to ponder this question at all, but you did enjoy the frazzled look that appeared on Hyunsuk’s face. You took a bite of your cupcake and socked him playfully on the shoulder. “I definitely think it’s ruined, yeah.”
“For real?”
You leaned forward and kissed him too quickly for him to react. “I’m gonna be thinking about that tight ass all the time now.” You squealed when he pounced, caging you between his arms and nearly squishing your cupcake between your chests. You gave him a radiant smile, exhilarated.
Hyunsuk returned it, looking joyous and thoroughly spent. “I think I could get used to this.” He adjusted so that he rested casually between your legs beneath the sheet you’d covered yourself with. He took your cupcake and set it safely on your nightstand, now able to let his head rest on your chest as you held each other.
You petted his hair, just savoring the feeling of his heartbeat and his breaths that evened into sleep quicker than you’d thought possible. This boy, you thought, smiling sleepily at nothing.
Yeah. You could get used to this.
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