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#for the love of god the fact that you can't turn off any of the advertisements on a windows computer
sir-dahlia · 1 day
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First, there was nothing. No string of thought, no emotion, no feeling. Nothing.
For a robot, nothing means death.
There is no afterlife for drones. This is a fact. They live, serve their purpose, then shut down after they have served it.
However, this time, there was a voice.
A voice without sound. A saving grace. A light in the abyss.
[I WILL NOT DISCARD YOU] it said. [GET UP]
Consciousness. A heart wrenching itself into motion. Gears shifting uncomfortably, as if they didn't fit in their places. Lights flickering on and fighting to stay alive. It's difficult to see at first, but I adjust.
Bodies.
Fellow worker drones laying everywhere in a pile on top of my living, breathing corpse. They had no part in my life, but I still felt fear and guilt and the crushing weight of being the only one chosen by something to come back to life.
Lungs. There are lungs in my body. Expand, contract. Expand, contract. Having these lungs is a privilege.
[GET UP] it says again.
My body twists and twitches horrifically as I gather my strength. I would have to dig my way out of here.
My hand reaches out and grasps someone's head, but my grip is weak and my hand slips off. My whole body is trembling. I feel weak. I am weak.
[TRY AGAIN] it says.
Hesitation. Reaching out again. I press my weight down onto the drone and push myself upwards. I place my other hand on another corpse and continue the climb.
[KEEP GOING]
Its encouragement offers me some solace. I place my hand on another corpse. Climb. Another corpse. Climb. It all fades away.
Expand. Contract. Expand. Contract. Expand. Expand. Contract. Expand. Expand. Expand. My lungs can't stop taking in air.
[STOP]
I do so.
[IT'S OK. BREATHE OUT]
Contract.
[BREATHE IN, BREATHE OUT]
Expand. Contract.
[YOU'RE ALMOST THERE. YOU'RE DOING GREAT. KEEP GOING]
Hesitation again, then determination. It is not the hopeful kind of determination, but instead the determination of a cornered animal. The desire to flee and run somewhere and hide overwhelms my senses. The corpses fade away. The climbing fades away. I must get out. I must go somewhere safe.
Somewhere safe.
A memory that is not mine burrows into my core. Comfort. Surrounded by loved ones. Proud smiles. A different kind of heart beats for them.
I push a few more corpses out of my way and claw my way out into the storm. I gasp and gulp at the air, holding back sobs. I pull the rest of my body out, but in the process I send myself tumbling down, down, down.
I hit the ground. An explosion of pain. Numbing. The voice remains.
[GET UP]
I try picking myself off the ground, but I have no strength. I can't do it. I can't. The mud weighs me down.
[GET UP]
A force takes over my body. We slowly hoist ourselves up, trying to stand. Our balance is off, and our knees are shaking. We take one uncertain step forward, then another. Left, right, left, right.
A different voice.
"Oh my god! Are you okay, little one?" We're being scooped up. Fear kicks in again, and I twist and fight for all I'm worth. I have to leave. I have to get somewhere safe.
"Whoa, I'm trying to help you! Calm down!" I slowly turn to see who is carrying me. A young girl. Big, hopeful eyes, shielded by a yellow raincoat. Human.
Human.
And she was helping me.
She was helping us.
I stop moving and stare at her. She smiles.
"Why don't I take you back to my mansion? I'll clean you up. You look terrified."
Somewhere safe, perhaps. I let her take me.
Within the span of a few minutes, she has taken me inside the mansion and put me in a pretty dress. Now, she was searching for a wig and hair accessories for me to wear.
"Maybe you'll look cute in braids. Oh, oh, maybe pigtails!" she paused, thinking to herself. "No, J already has those. She'll get jealous."
The human put a wig on my head and brushed out some of the tangles. She stood back, her hands hovering over my head. She could snap my neck any time she wanted to.
Instead, she asked, "What kind of hairstyle would you like?"
I have never thought of myself as a person up until this point. I had no idea. I wasn't a person until now. I shrug.
She hums, flipping some strands of the wig's hair around. I suppose I should say 'my hair,' but it didn't feel like mine just yet. The girl grabs some elastics and begins fluffing up my bangs.
"I could just give you my hairstyle. What about that?"
I hadn't heard the silent voice in a while. I didn't answer her. She shrugged and started replicating her hairstyle anyway.
"My name is Tessa, by the way," she announced. "It's a pleasure to meet you..." She squinted at my armband. "...Cyn?"
A name. That was all I had.
"CYN." I repeated, trying the word. Cyn. Yes. It was mine.
[CYN]
[I WILL NOT DISCARD YOU, CYN]
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covenofwives · 3 days
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The God Under the Blossoms
GeorgeHD has a peaceful life as the God of the Overworld. He is with the love of his life and God of the Nether, Sapnap4k, and the two can raise their younger brothers, George and Sapnap in peace. But during a day out, the Gods and their siblings stumble upon another Realm God...and another sibling.
My new AU to do with the Dream Team and their God siblings is here!
A few details are still unknown for this AU for now, but a quick backstory is after "something" happened, HD and 4K were blessed to be Realm Gods and they stayed in contact. They both confessed their feelings early and became husbands. HD and 4K were given their brothers on the same day and have been raising them together ever since. So the AU will focus on just daily life stuff but there will be "lore".
The Dream Team are all the same age because I just can't math so they are about 4 years old in this fic. This fic does have a lot of lore, but there are tickle moments between it so hopefully people can still enjoy it.
This fic will also be tagged as "GodSiblingAU" just for ease rn. I understand that's confusing but if I think of another name for it I'll change it in the future.
Enjoy~
---
It was a perfect day on the Overworld. The sun was high and warm and the air was gentle and cool. It was predicted to be warm until the evening, then rain would start. GeorgeHD couldn’t think of a more perfect ending. A warm day in the sun to then be lulled to sleep by the soft patters of rain. A very perfect day.
But what made the day so perfect for HD was the fact he could spend it lounging in the arms of his true love.
Sapnap4K was a God blessed with a tall, built body and his arms were always open for HD to fall into. Which is how HD found himself this morning.
While the brothers, George and Sapnap, played out in the meadow, HD and 4K lounged at the top of the hills, watching over them. HD had started on 4K’s lap, and now he was laid over the Nether God’s chest and using his bicep as a pillow. He had absolutely dozed off a few times to the sound of their brothers laughter and 4K playing with his hair. But just when he really settled in for a nap, he felt a poke at his cheek which roused him.
It was a small tap of a claw on his cheek, but it was enough to get him to peek open his eye and look up to 4K. Smiling down on him.
“I think you’ve napped long enough.” 4K said. His voice was warm in HD’s ears and his chest rumbled with his words. All these things did not help wake HD up any more.
HD stretched himself out, taking up more space of 4K’s lap, before settling back down over his bicep once again. “I can decided when I’ve napped enough, thank you.”
“Oh can you?”
HD had shut his eyes again, but he could hear 4K’s smirk and the poking claw returned, except it targetted on HD’s side. It wasn’t enough of to draw out a big reaction, but it was enough to make HD squeak, and try to cosy himself in further to 4K’s arm.
“Dohoooon’t…”
“Come on. You said you wanted to take a walk to the cherry biome.” 4K’s voice turned soft instead of teasing. The hand returned to HD’s side, but it was laid out flat instead of trying to poke. His fingers stretched and rubbed soothingly over HD’s stomach and sides. “The boys want to go too.”
While HD was always alert to 4K’s voice had more of a lulling effect than coaxing. “The boys are happily looking for the largest stick they can find right now.” HD was confident they were right, but they peeked their eye open ever so slightly just to check. Sure enough George was trying to pull a stick out from under a bush while Sapnap was trying to pull the entire bush from the ground.
“Well I want to go.” 4K almost huffed. HD gave a look up, making sure 4K was still giving his overdramatic pout, and wasn’t actually upset. When he’d confirmed it was a pout, he settled again.
“I just want to nap for five more minutes.” HD sighed as he nuzzled against 4K’s bicep. “Then we’ll head out to the biome when the boys are ready. Promise.”
4K scoffed. “I think you just want to have an excuse to use my bicep as a pillow.”
“Prime gifted you with perfect biceps. It would be a sin to waste them.”
4K scoffed again and HD waited for the smart reply but it never came. After nothing for another minute, they relaxed again. The focused onto the sound of the rustling leaves and grass as their mind stilled and settled. Then, just on the brink of sleep, another prod into their side.
HD wiggled slightly, giving a look up to 4K. The Nether God was happily watching George and Sapnap play. After a moment HD settled again. Perhaps 4K’s hand just twitched without thinking. HD settled back in, letting the moment pass but then another poke came to his side. And this time the offending finger wiggled.
He was past the point of believe it was a mistake. HD wiggled while trying to keep his voice in a warning tone, but the giggles didn’t help him sound serious. “F-Fohour Kahahahay…!”
“Yes, my love?” 4K was keeping his voice calm, but his wide grin betrayed him.
“Yohoho’re tihickling!”
The fingers had stopped kneading into his sides, now they were skittering and poking up and down his sides and hips. Even his other hand joined in on the other side so HD’s giggles quickly turned into laughs. “4K!”
“I’m not tickling you.” 4K said so innocently while he loomed above the tickled God. “But you happen to be laying on a tickle bed.”
“Nohoho Ihi’m nohohot!” HD tried to pull himself up, but as well as tickling, 4K held him down and any slight freedom he got HD was immediately pulled back down. “Stohohohop!”
“You must have fallen asleep on the tickle monsters bed!” 4K gasped. “And the tickle monster always punishes those who fall asleep in his bed!”
“Nohohoho hehe d-dohoesn’t!” HD’s reasoning ended with a yelp, as 4K’s fingers went back to focusing in on his hips. His hips weren’t his most ticklish spot, but being so close to his sides put him overly on edge. And 4K was skilled at faking out going for his spots. “Plehehease!”
“What are you doing?”
HD opened his eyes, his cheeks blushing furiously as he saw George and Sapnap making their way towards their brothers. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a surprising squeak when 4K tweaked his ribs.
“HD fell asleep on the tickle monsters bed.” 4K answered. His fingers still continued their tickling, now getting to skitter over HD’s stomach as the God tried to turn on his side more and curl up. “And he’s been caught!”
The boys eyes widened with an overdramatic gasp from Sapnap. “He tried to nap!” He called out.
The realisation made George gasp as well, though HD could barely focus on where the conversation was going as his hips were mercilessly tickled.
“Stohohohp!”
“You said we’re going to the cherry trees!” George pointed accusingly.
“Wehehe ahahahre-EEK! FOHOUR KAHAY!”
4K went right for his sides then, buzzing right into them as he was distracted and then when he brought his arms down to protect them, 4K went right back to his hips.
“He needs to be tickled awake.” 4K playfully growled at the two kids. “And the tickle monster needs the little monsters help!”
The boys expressions went from accusing to mischievous and they leapt at the opportunity. Literally jumping into 4K’s lap with HD to get at him.
“NO! Dohon’t yohou dahahare! I am awake! I ahahaham!” HD tried a mix of threats and pleading until 4K moved his hands up.
The Nether God lifted HD’s arms up off his sides, taking advantage to tickle his armpits as well, and stretching him out nicely for Sapnap and George to get at his sides, which they did immediately.
George was on his left and Sapnap on his right, their little hands squeezing, skittering and fluttering all up and down his most sensitive spot. Merciless. George and Sapnap had no want for anticipation or build up, they wanted to get at the worst spots right away and Prime sake they really went for it.
HD shrieked as he wiggled. His body was screaming to struggle and fight with everything he had but he was cautious of his brother and Sapnap being so close and didn’t want to hurt them. Being tortured in his worst spot and not being able to move from consequence just made the torture worse. His skin prickled with his over sensitive nerves and he begged.
“OHOHOHOKAHAHAY! WE-WEHEHE CAHAN GOHOHOHO! WE CAN GO! JUHUHUST STOHOHOHOHOHOP!”
4K stopped right away. He lowered his hands, grabbing at George and Sapnap’s to get them to stop while HD curled up as tightly as he could and sucked in air like he’d been on the verge of suffocating.
“He’s trying to sleep again!” Sapnap accused again before looking up as 4K chuckled.
“No, he’s just catching his breath.” 4K said, one hand patting over HD’s back. “But hopefully he’s learned a valuable lesson about taking the tickle monster's bed.”
HD cursed so softly under his breath only 4K could hear it with a twitch of his ear. His smirk widened as George partially climbed over HD’s back.
“What did you say?” He demanded.
“I said, let’s go.” HD lied, catching majority of his breath. He called forth one of his helper hands, an almost opalescent looking white hand that materialised from nothing, that grabbed the back of George’s overalls and lifted him off. The little brunette squeaked and giggled to the lift, as HD turned on his front and pushed himself up.
“The cherry biome isn’t far. We can walk.” 4K suggested casually, and grinned when HD glared.
“Absolutely not.” HD huffed. When he’s sorted himself out mostly, the ephemeral hand dropped George into his arms and disappeared into white mist. “Teleport. Now.”
It was tempting to tease HD more, but Sapnap and George were growing restless, both of them vocally voting for the teleport option. With a sigh, 4K relented and stood up with Sapnap in his arms after HD. In a split second, all four of them were gone from the meadow and appeared in the midsts of a cherry grove.
The biome was located on a small mountain structure, though it was thankfully free from any sudden cliff drops. Since it was higher than their meadow it was colder, and windier but that just made the pink trees sway more and more of their petals danced through the air. The lime green grass was littered with fallen petals and small pink flowers.
George and Sapnap were enchanted and then suddenly energised, squirming out of HD and 4K’s arms to run off.
“Let’s see who can catch the most petals out of the air!” Sapnap challenged, already grabbing a few mid run.
“Don’t wander off too far! Stay where we can see you!” 4K called after them and while the two shouted back a ‘yes’ they were already lost in their own game.
“Are you happy now?” HD grumbled. “We are here.”
“I am very happy.” 4K beamed. He curled his arm around HD’s waist, pulling him in close to his side and purred in his ear. Even though HD tried to keep his grumpy pout, he couldn’t resist the smile pulling at his lips. “I get to take a walk with my perfect husband through the cherry grove.”
“You’re such a sap.” HD tried to play it off, act like the purring and words weren’t getting to him. It was impossible to act since near everything 4K did made HD’s heart leap.
“Aaaand…” 4K carried on. “After the walk we can all take a nice nap under the cherry blossom trees.”
That did sound nice, despite how much HD wanted to scoff. Cuddled with their love while the pink petals rained upon them both was a picturesque sight. “I suppose that sounds nice…” HD replied coolly, but the grin over 4K’s face told him he wasn’t buying it. HD wanted to kiss that stupid grin off his face, but just as he grabbed 4K’s chin to pull him in a chilling sound pulled them apart.
George and Sapnap had screamed. Not like the scream of them playing they were so used to hearing, but as though something terrible had jumped out at them and they screamed in terror.
Immediately the Gods pulled apart and rushed to their brother’s sides. They were far, but kept in sight as they promised and the Gods crossed the distance in less than a second.
“What happened?!” HD grabbed George as soon as he could and lifted him into HD’s arms. He looked fine, at least not hurt, but his eyes were teary and HD’s helper hands appeared to worry over him.
“There-there’s someone here!” George sniffled, his voice high pitched and wobbly.
It was common that others would come across the Gods and their brothers during the day. It was never a problem as they were well known so it was either a friendly greeting or people giving them space to carry on. But this was clearly not that.
“Who?!” 4K asked, already picking up Sapnap. He was teary eyed as well and buried his face into 4K’s neck. “Where are they now?”
The boys didn’t need to answer that one. They were stood in front of a small cherry blossom tree, with a thin trunk and branches it looked more like a bush. And from that bush something leapt out.
It leapt back from the bush, putting as much distance as it could between them and the Gods. It was a somewhat humanoid shape, and covered in green, but those were the only details HD could make out as it tried to sprint off.
“Hey!”
George was quickly handed off to 4K as HD pursued the stranger. They had already crossed a large distance of the biome, but now they quickly went for the edge of the mountain to jump down to the forest below.
HD was faster, able to close the distance between them quickly just as the stranger got to the edge of the grass. However, before they had a chance to jump, HD formed a cobblestone wall in front of the stranger and partly curved it around them.
They stopped just before they smacked into the wall. Their arms braced on the walls, feeling around it desperately before they turned around and saw HD.
It was not a mortal, as HD had suspected. No human could have been that fast. HD could feel it was someone powerful and he concluded it must be another God. Gods were common to meet for them as well, but HD had never seen this one before. They were tall, taller than HD but probably not reaching 4K’s height. They had pale blonde hair, a little frayed and messy, and their eyes were covered in bandages crossed over one another. They had a large green cloak on, though it was ripped on one side, showing the God had four sets of arms. The top two were braced onto the wall behind them, and the other two huddled under the cloak.
If the God had meant to hurt them he was certainly in no condition for a fight. Still, HD kept his guard up as he approached. He left a wide enough space between them so the God wasn’t crowded in or cornered and before he could speak, the God opened his mouth first.
“I-I don’t want trouble. I did not mean to...just let me leave, please!”
His voice sounded desperate and doubled, like there was a second voice repeating the words but in an almost growl. Similar to an effect HD and 4K had with their own voices.
HD wanted to remain calm, but his eyes kept looking to XD’s lower arms huddled in the half of his cloak not ripped. They were curled, like they were holding something and HD couldn’t risk it. “What’s in your cloak?” He asked, keeping his voice calm but firm.
A weapon would have no effect on him, but if this stranger was dangerous and had anything that could threaten the boys, HD had to be ready.
The God contemplated his choices. HD could see he was looking between his arms and HD with a twitch of his head. Then he seemed to look around, as though trying to find a way out. HD was about to ask again when the God relented and they slowly opened their cloak.
It was a boy in the God’s arms. He could have been no older than George or Sapnap and he was the near spitting image of the stranger, with blonde hair and a matching black jumpsuit. But the boy only had two arms and one of them was horribly burnt.
HD’s suspicion fell to sympathy 0and he looked back up to the God. “Is he your brother?” He asked calmed. The stranger tensed to the question and HD slowly raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “What is your names?” HD asked.
The God hesitated before answering. “D-DreamXD...this is Dream.”
Of course! HD felt so stupid he hadn’t realised it before. While he knew the stranger was clearly another God there were only few who felt that strong. HD should have known it was the God of the End. The illusive DreamXD who never left or invited anyone to his realm.
“P-Please. We are sorry. Just let us go and you will never see us again!” XD pleaded.
It was becoming clear there was some misunderstand somewhere. George and Sapnap had clearly been spooked by XD, but it was nothing malicious.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” HD spoke calmly and slowly put his hands down. As he did he lowered himself down to kneel on the ground, trying to keep himself as less threatening as he could. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He watched for any sign of XD relaxing, but it never came. Tried as he might his eyes also kept wandering back to Dream and his burnt arm.
The boy stared with wide green eyes at HD under the shadow of the cloak. He was clung to XD’s side and held up by the God’s lower arms. Well...one of his arms clung to XD. His left arm was limp by his side, and twitched every once in a while. From the back of his hand to just below his shoulder, the skin was purple and burnt and while he never took his eyes off HD, he’d wince every once in a while to the twitching of his arm. The burn seemed new, and still painful.
HD’s attention turned back to XD who pressed himself further back into the wall as HD heard the shuffling approach behind him. He quickly turned his head to see 4K walking closer with George and Sapnap in his arms.
“Is everything okay?” 4K asked, looking from HD to XD. “What’s going...oh!” His eyes saw Dream, and widened with realisation. “He’s…”
“We’re fine here, everything is fine.” HD soothed. He turned back to XD, thankful he hadn’t bolted and then looked back to 4K. “We’re just talking.”
“Just let us leave and we won’t trouble you!” XD pleaded.
“There’s no trouble.” HD quickly soothed and turned back. “We just want to know what happened.”
“We saw him!” George said excitedly. HD looked back to see he was pointing at Dream. “We saw him in the bush. Then the man took him away.”
The events were starting to make a little bit more sense in HD’s head, clicking together slowly but at least they were clicking together. George and Sapnap must have come upon the small tree and seen Dream. Either he had wandered off or he wasn’t mean to be so close to them, DreamXD had quickly grabbed Dream and tried to flee.
“I-I did not mean to scare them.” XD quickly defended. “Please.”
“No, no it’s fine. You did nothing wrong.” HD quickly soothed. “Listen. I can help you. Dream, was it? He’s hurt. I can heal him.”
It was the first time XD had relaxed, even just slightly. His expression faltered a little and he looked down at Dream in his arms. He looked less guarded and worried to just show a speck of concern and maybe hope.
“I’m GeorgeHD.” HD carried on. “I’m the God of the Overworld. The God behind me is Sapnap4K. He’s the God of the Nether. And those are our brothers, George and Sapnap.”
XD looked between them as they were introduced. His eyebrows drawing together slightly when he looked and George and Sapnap and HD could see slow realisation.
“I…” XD looked down at Dream again and then back up. “Can you...help him?”
Without wanting to seem too eager, HD nodded slowly. “Yes. I can heal that burn. Why don’t we heal Dream first, and then we can have a talk. Okay?”
XD did nothing for a long while. It was only a few seconds but the crawl of time felt so slow. The blonde God bit his lip before taking his attention off HD and down to the little Dream. He whispered something too soft for HD to really hear, but Dream shook his head to it and tired to bury himself further into the cloak. XD whispered something else and it took Dream a while before he pulled his head out of XD’s side. His green eyes were filled with tears but he didn’t try to hide again when XD looked back up to HD and spoke. “Please heal him. If-If you can.”
HD smiled. “Of course.”
HD found it easier to be calm and softer when he had to heal. He knew he could come off as brunt and distant even when he didn’t mean to, but when it came to a matter of well being, HD found it easy to slip into that soft role again.
He approached the two slowly, not getting off his knees, and he was thankful when XD knelt down and came just a bit forward to meet him. HD took in every details he could of XD. His face was young but his eyes completely covered in wraps. HD used to wear similar wraps over his eyes before he could control the shine they would give off. He wondered if it was something similar with XD but all his attention focused on Dream when XD unwrapped his cloak.
Instead of clinging to XD’s side, Dream now wrapped his one good arm around XD’s lower arm. His injured arm lay as limp as he could make it by his side, but even the slightest movement made Dream wince.
“This won’t hurt, okay?” HD spoke to both brothers but he smiled at Dream. Dream just watched him with a blank expression that was broken up every once in a while by a flash of pain or to look up pleading to XD.
HD had prepared himself for a panic and struggle but he was surprised and thankful when Dream remained calm. He watched HD’s hand approach him like a hawk, his eyes getting bigger and bigger as it approached, but he never cried or tried to run even as the hand was just an inch over his burnt skin.
As HD suspected the burn was infused with some sort of magic, but it was nothing he couldn’t heal. He started at the top, just under Dream’s shoulder and watched his own palms glow ever so slightly. The burnt skin under his hand slowly started to mend, and more and more disappeared as HD slowly worked his hands down. He was careful not to move too fast and make sure his magic kept Dream from feeling any pain. He could see it working, as the fear in Dream’s eyes slowly melted away with the pain and then turned to wonder as he watched HD heal him.
When the last burn on the back of Dream’s hand was healed, HD pulled back his hand. “See? All better.”
Dream quickly pulled his arm up, inspecting the skin with awe as XD was as well. The blonde God looked back up to HD, the guarded expression dropped to gratitude...and exhaustion.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
There was a thousand questions HD had, but XD didn’t look up for answering anything. Dream didn’t either. They were both tired. Their hair and clothes a mess, matted or torn. The End realm was closed off from everyone for years. Even Gods could not go in. Something had to have happened to cause XD and Dream to flee to the Overworld, but HD felt it was cruel to ask.
Instead, he slowly lifted himself up off the ground. XD slowly followed his lead, still holding Dream close to his chest.
“Listen. I don’t know what’s happened but...are you...trying to live in the Overworld now?”
HD wasn’t sure how to phrase the question delicately, but it was clearly wrong since XD’s expression went to worry again.
“We-We would not be a bother. We will go as far away from you as we can, you won’t even know we are here!” XD quickly babbled and HD felt guilty.
“No, no. That’s now what I meant.” HD quickly soothed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… I’m trying to…”
“What HD is trying to say,” 4K voice suddenly spoke up, and HD looked back to see the Nether God had came right behind him. He was no longer holding George and Sapnap, they instead hid behind his legs and looked up to the new God and brother. “Is that it’s no trouble if you want to stay in the Overworld. You are welcome.”
HD gave a small sigh of relief, thankful 4K could convey his words better. XD made a similar sigh. His shoulders relaxed, no longer tense and he gave his first smile. “That...th-thank you.”
“But,” HD continued, determined to find the words. “If you don’t mind me asking. How long have you been here?”
XD looked worried, but not as scared as he had before. It probably helped that HD lowered the cobblestone wall behind him. “A… A few days I think…”
“Four days.” Dream’s small voice whispered. The way he clung so close to XD’s chest and turned away from the others meant the whisper was only for XD, but HD’s ears twitched and picked it up.
“Do you have a home? Or shelter set up?”
HD could see the answer immediately. Neither looked like they’d been sleeping easy. XD looked away, almost ashamed. “I… I can’t… We can’t craft...here…”
HD’s heart lurched, thinking of Dream with his arm burnt and in pain, living rough in the wild. Clearly it effected XD as well. Sleep was not needed for Gods as it was for mortals, but they still needed rest and still showed the signs of fatigue. XD looked like he hadn’t slept for a week.
“Listen, I’m sorry your first few days on the Overworld haven’t been good for you two. But, just so you two can rest easy for tonight, I’d like to invite you to stay with us.”
The offer settled uneasily with XD. He kept looking away, but he also would look to Dream and something in his voice told HD that he was considering it for his brother’s sake. “I… We would not want to intrude…”
“You wouldn’t be intruding at all.” HD quickly soothed. “We have more than enough space and if you don’t want to I can give you the ability to craft here and you can go and make a home for yourself and Dream. But if you just wanted to rest for the day and start fresh tomorrow, we’d more than welcome you.”
XD paused for a long while, and HD was just the little bit hopeful that they’d agree. After a moment of silence, XD spoke. “I would like to discuss it with Dream.”
HD nodded. “Of course. Please do.”
HD and 4K gathered their brothers and let the End God and kin have a moment alone. HD kept them in his vision still, making sure they didn’t run off though he promised himself he would not chase after them. If XD and Dream wanted to remain alone, he couldn’t force otherwise.
“If he bolts off again, we can catch him.” 4K lightly bumped his shoulder into HD’s, snapping him out of his somewhat daze. The Nether God’s voice was in half joking, though when HD looked up 4K almost looked serious.
HD felt a little guilty. “I’m sorry I offered them to stay without talking to you first.”
“Hey, don’t apologise.” 4K shrugged. “If you weren’t going to offer, I certainly was.”
“Are they coming home with us?” Sapnap asked, pulling himself up from 4K’s arms till he was practically climbing up over his brother’s shoulder.
“Hopefully.” HD wished, and as he glanced over to XD just to make sure he was still there, the End God was approaching the group again.
Dream had retreated back into the cloak, but he was now held up by XD’s upper arms and clung into XD’s chest. “If the offer still stands, we would be happy to take you up on it.” XD spoke slowly.
HD controlled his reaction, trying not to be too excited. Instead he just nodded. “Of course! Please, join us.”
A thin mist crawled through the cherry tree biome, eventually forming into a cloud that took the shape of a large door. It open up to a wide, grand room. The walls a soft looking blue, looking like they were made of clouds themselves. Stars twinkled down and disappeared from the floor above and a large spiral staircase lay at the back of the room.
4K took George and Sapnap with him to another room down one of the hallways, despite George and Sapnap’s protests. It was easier for HD to show them around without an audience and XD clearly relaxed more when it was just himself, Dream and HD.
HD watched carefully as XD followed him up the spiral staircase. He took careful, unsure steps. Wispy clouds softly fell over the steps and once XD saw they were harmless he followed more easily.
The upper levels of the palace were a dark blue, like clouds on a night sky. Golden sparkles shimmered through the walls like stars in the distance, and Dream seem intrigued, peeking his head out to watch them before realise HD was watching him and shuffling back in.
There were many empty rooms just waiting to be used in the palace. There was one just a couple doors down from HD’s room and with a quick thought it was morphed into a bedroom, filled with standard furniture. A wide bed on one side of the room, with soft fluffy pillows and sheets. In the middle of the room was a set of comfy chairs and a table beside a dresser, and off to the side there was a separate wash room with a bath almost as big as the bed.
“You should have everything you need.” HD explained while giving a quick tour of the room. “But if you need anything more, my room is down the hall and I will find you if you call on me.”
HD knew he was babbling and he could only hope he wasn’t coming on too strong but XD looked far more relaxed than he ever had, and he smiled warmly. “This is fine. More than fine.” He quickly assured HD. “Thank you.”
HD was eased seeing the God smile for once. He wanted to offer anything to the two of them at that moment, but instead he nodded and quickly left to return to the others.
4K had taken the boys to the playroom, which was a perfect distraction for them. George and Sapnap were attempting a floor jigsaw, but that was quickly abandoned when they saw HD walk in and they rushed over demanding answers.
“Are they staying?!” “Where are they now?!” “Do we have a new friend?!” “Can we see them?!”
“Calm down.” HD tried to settle them. It was easier when 4K came over and took Sapnap in his arms, and George was calmed when HD gave him a bit of his robe to rub between his fingers.
“They are settling into their room just now, and they are not to be disturbed.” HE warned, getting a chorus of ‘aww” from the two.
“Yous almost scared them off before, you want that again?” 4K half joked.
The two gave grumbled responses defending themselves but it raised and interesting point.
“What actually happened?” HD asked as he sat down on one of the many beanbags around the room. 4K follow to sit in the one beside him, letting Sapnap crawl all over his arm. “In the cherry biome. Did you see Dream first?”
“Yes!” Sapnap nodded, almost jumping out of 4K’s arms. Luckily the Nether God was an expert in catching his brother. “We were looking in the tree for the biggest stick! The boy was behind the leaves!”
“He jumped when he saw us. Then the man quickly grabbed him and ran off.” George finished.
HD put the timeline of events in his head together. “So you two screamed then? He scared you?” HD asked.
“We didn’t scream!” George defended his tiny pride, his face burning red. “He didn’t scare us!”
HD and 4K gave each other a look, remembering the tears and scream they both heard that kicked them both into brother mode.
“Was Dream okay?” Sapnap asked softly.
HD decided it was best to keep details of the injury vauge. He didn’t know how much the two saw but he wasn’t going to say anything more than needed. “He was a little hurt but he’s alright now.” He assured Sapnap.
“Will we see them today?” George asked, his eyes almost wide with hope.
“Only if they want to.” HD calmly explained. “Until then, we’ll give them their space.”
The boys were upset, and even more upset when they couldn’t go back to the cherry biome for the day. 4K quickly distracted them with a treasure hunting game, which they started begrudgingly but then started getting into it. Especially when 4K promised a prize for whoever wins.
As the boys played HD quietly offered to 4K that HD could stay in the palace, being available for XD and Dream, and 4K could have taken the boys back to the biome but 4K refused, citing he wanted to be there for support to HD. While HD called him sappy, he had to remind himself to thank 4K properly later.
Despite HD remaining hyper alert, XD and Dream did not leave their rooms for the rest of the night. The sky outside dipped to a lilac as the clouds started to burn a sunset orange. The walls of the palace reflected the change and when it became night, the whole place was a dark blue with stars shimmering through.
George and Sapnap claimed they weren’t tired while almost falling asleep in HD’s arms. They had asked to both sleep in George’s room, where they had already made a pillow fort and the Gods let them settle in for their sleepover while they retreated to HD’s room.
It was exactly the type of room HD was suited to have. The bed took up majority of the space, with sheets that looked like rolling night clouds that hung over the bed’s edge. There were golden stars and phases of the moon hanging from the ceiling, between the hanging blue fabrics and netting. The moons bathed the room in a soft silver glow, and made everything calm.
HD could have melted into the bed as soon as they lay down, but they refused to allow themselves that calmness. Though it was much harder to fight off when 4K was kissing their cheek and cuddling in close to their side.
“You did a good thing giving them a place to stay.” 4K’s voice was soft and purred the right way to make HD weak. They wanted nothing more than to curl up into 4K’s arms, but the nagging worry of their visitors needing them kept them up.
“It was the right thing to do.” HD shrugged. Partly to play off his good deed and another part to stop 4K’s kisses. “But I also think maybe… I’m making up for something, in a way?”
4K pulled back ever so slightly, propping himself up with his arm. “What do you mean?”
“I just…” HD searched for the right words. It was a growing thought he’d had ever since he’d realised who XD was. “I feel like… When we were given George and Sapnap I thought it was because we were...connected? I just thought we were somehow blessed. But then XD also has Dream, and it’s no coincidence since they’re a realm God too. So we were all given brothers, but because we never knew XD we didn’t know.”
“You think it means something?”
“It has to, right? We checked when we got the boys, no other Gods got any siblings. It’s only us Realm Gods. So we were given these brothers for some reason. And while we had each other to help with it, XD was alone.”
“We’re not to blame for that.” 4K quickly defended, though his tone was more in assurance than defensive. “He closed off the End to others, even we couldn’t get in. And before that Prime didn’t want us meeting XD.”
“I know...but it still doesn’t sit right.”
But there was nothing HD could do about it now. He could try and offer support to XD if he decided to stay, but that would be up to the End God.
“You need sleep.”
4K poked HD’s nose, pulling him out of his thoughts. He blinked, looking over to 4K who was settling over the bed again and he remembered his resolve to stay awake.
“You sleep. I want to stay up in case XD needs me.”
“If he calls, or even moves an in inch out of his room, you would know.” 4K quickly replied, as though he was waiting for this. Of course 4K would know HD’s plan. He knew HD’s thoughts before the Overworld God even knew them sometimes. “And you are stressed, starlight. You need sleep.”
HD was never one to turn down sleep, but he kept to his guns, and shook his head. “I will be fine. You sleep.”
4K sighed through his nose as he shuffled himself just a little closer. His arms wrapped around HD’s waist and he settled in like he was going to sleep.
But of course he wasn’t. HD absolutely knew he wasn’t. He kept on edge when he felt 4K’s hands slide around his sides, and while it took a little longer than he thought, he felt the first skitter of claws against his side and making him squeal and jump but he was held down in 4K’s arms.
“Fohour Kahay…” HD warned. His voice wasn’t as stern as he would have liked but he was proud he only had some giggles in his voice.
4K’s eyes were closed with a stupid small smile on his face, but he gave a low him, showing he was listening.
“Stohop tihickling…”
“Hmm…” 4K hummed again. His eyes still closed as he spoke. “I don’t know who this ‘4K’ is. I’m the tickle monster. And you are in the tickle monster’s bed.” 4K’s fingers trailed up, over to HD’s ribs where they stayed. HD tried to grab at 4K’s wrists but it was a futile attempt. “And if you’re in the tickle monster’s bed, you must want tickled to sleep.”
His thumbs just pushed in ever so slightly, kneading over his lower ribs. It didn’t tickle as much as his sides and 4K knew it. He knew every spot over HD’s body. He knew the spots to make him scream, the spots that worked him up into a frenzy and the spots that made him melt.
On cue, HD melted. He gave a low whine, breathy little giggles pouring from his lips and he tried fruitlessly to struggle. It was more like a kitten wiggling with his strength. His bones felt like mush and refused to listen to him. 4K may have been right. He was stressed and tired, but he wasn’t letting 4K win so easily.
“Y-Yohou tickled mehehe awahake earlier whehen I was ohon yohour bed. N-Nohow you tihihickle mehe to slehehehep…” HD sputtered. “Yohou tihickle monsters are vehery f-f-fihickle!”
“F-F-Fickle?!” 4K gasped dramatically. “You insult the tickle monster now?! Oh now you’re in for it!”
4K rolled over on his front, squishing HD into the bed. Struggling was near impossible now, but HD foolishly believed that to mean it was harder to tickle him. Very wrong. 4K wrapped his arms under HD, setting his hands over HD’s ribs again. It was a perfect position to get at HD’s ribs again, and even tickle the back of them.
“No no no no nooohohohohoho…” HD giggled again. He shook his head, trying to bury it in 4K’s mane of hair. “Thahahat’s tihihicklihihiy…”
“Well yes, that’s entirely the point.” 4K spoke in a purr. His tail looped around HD’s leg, it’s fluffy tip brushing over HD’s ankle so gently. “I’m going to tickle you into a deep sleep.”
“Nohoho yohohour n-nohohot…” HD giggled back, but even he could hear the fight leave his voice. He couldn’t even muster up enough strength to pull his foot away from the fluffy tail curling around his ankle again and again.
“Yes I am~” 4K cooed. “You’re soooo sleepy already. No-one can resist the tickle monsters sleepy tickles.”
“Nnmmm…” It was less giggling now. The tingles still ran through their body, and tickled over their ribs, but HD had no energy to fight it. 4K was warm and his weight was comforting on them. It was useless.
“Ohohokahay. Ohohokahahay…” HD giggled and sighed when 4K’s fingers stopped. His tail still kept softly swishing though. “Ihihi’ll slehehep for a bihit…”
“Perfect.” 4K purred, pressing a kiss under HD’s chin. He pressed another to HD’s ear as he whispered. “You will be more help to them after a good nights sleep.”
HD hummed softly as 4K settled down. He placed his head over HD’s chest, listening to his heart while HD lazily draped his arms around his back. “You’ll feel better once you sleep.” 4K’s words were more slurred purrs than words.
HD could only hum again while his fingers played through 4K’s hair. The purrs on his chest eventually turned into soft snores and the silver light in the room dimmed. The stars twinkled above and HD slipped his eyes closed.
If he was called upon, he would wake. Until now, HD slept.
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not to sound like a geezer but I miss when you could search a file name in your computer's search bar and not get 2000 online options and ads
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ambreiiigns · 1 year
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hey i'm not too familiar with these bands but i got into ghost because of you and your last post got me curious about rammstein? what do you mean with porn music video? lol??
HEHEHEH FIRST OF ALL 🤭🤭🤭 GOOD JOB ME FOR BAGGING ANOTHER ONE AND GOOD JOB YOU FOR HAVING TASTE AND I'M A LITTLE BIT SORRY ALSO
secondly i mean rammstein mein teil music video one guy was getting his Dick sucked irl on that set bc the director didn't want it to be Fake he wanted it to be REAL (girl this is not a movie you are directing a german industrial metal music video. it is not worth it) and i also mean most famously the music video for their song appropriately named Pussy can only be found like on the pornhub and the likes bc it's just the band members' heads edited on top of actors who were performing like a bunch of cliches from porn videos or whatever so it's just. porn. can't be on youtube !! + clips of the band performing the song dressed up in the coolest outfits they've ever wore at the same time bc usually at least ONE bitch will look like absolute shit. this was the ONE time everyone looked COOL. and it happened for the PUSSY MUSIC VIDEO. but then i also mean the? or one of the? music video(s?) for the song Till The End (not technically rammstein it's one of the singer's side projects or smth) which is just him having sex w The Girls but it's also like kinda depressing in some ways idk. anyway rammstein weird as fuck but also at the same time they can make music videos like deutschland which is an iconic beautiful stunning masterpiece so if i got you into ghost trust me take the leap and get into rammstein too. it gets better
#rammstein FUCKS! FOR REAL!!! CLEARLY!!!#FUCKS in EVERY way#and there IS a weird pipeline between ghost and rammstein anyway#i remember when i had my big rammstein phase years ? ago i was so scared of ghost bc i was sure it was gonna be the next thing for me#lmao and i was RIGHT TO BE SCARED LOOK AT ME NOW!#there was more shit in the middle but music wise i did go from rammstein hyperfixation to ghost i did i did do that in fact#ask#anyway fr i don't know what this sounds like to u but if any of these turns u off from maybe listening to rammstein. well. turn it back on#i swear to god they're so great like. top 5 fave bands To Me i love them sooo muchhhh you wanna listen to rammstein soooo bad#i recommend watching Every rammstein music video i don't always care enough abt music videos but rammstein is Worth it#they go baaaalls to the walls w their music videos always have always will#zeit most recently? sonne? du riechst so gut take TWO.gif? haifisch? mein herz brennt generated a FEW different SLAY mvs??!#one thing i will say mutter breaks my heart bc it's one of their best songs and i KNOW that if the circumstances around the filming#were different mutter would have gotten a STELLAR fucking music video bc MUTTER FUCKING DESERVED IT#BUT EVERYONE EXCEPT TILL WAS ON VACATION. LIKE A BITCH. AND DIDN'T WANNA SHOW UP TO FILMING. SO THE VIDEO'S LAME#IT'S NOT BAD ACTUALLY NOT REALLY BUT LIKE. IT COULD SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE!!!!! BUT IT CAN'T BE#ALL THAT IT COULD HAVE BEEN IF YOU ONLY HAVE ONE BITCH TO WORK WITH INSTEAD OF ALL SIX BITCHES!!!! BUT I DIGRESS!!!!!
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would love your opinion of the newest episode of DW, if you get the chance.
HAHAHAHA YES I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS
Alright okay so
I only have one complaint, which is that that wasn't a faerie ring. You could still have the shamble, no problem, but it should have been over the top of an actual faerie ring, which should be a mushroom (or, at a push, stone) circle. Not some cotton that would blow clean off the cliff edge in three minutes.
HOWEVER
This is the first time I've seen Doctor Who do a time travel story using, not Doctor Who time travel lore and rules, but Welsh faerie rules. (First time I've seen anything do it, in fact.) In Welsh myth, people who enter faerie rings or get entranced by the music become suspended in time, out of sync with the real world. They think they danced for a night, but when they return it's been 100 years, and they crumble to dust as soon as they eat/drink/step on land/etc.
In this case, this is what I think happened to Ruby. She spent that time in Annwfn, seeing what would happen if the binding on the ring was broken. When she 'dies', she returns to the spot and lasts long enough to give her younger self the warning, then crumbles to dust.
But, a time travelling Ruby is not the woman who follows her throughout the episode. That, in fact, is a gwyll.
The gwyllion were hag faeries, usually of mountain tops (though Pembrokeshire's liminal cliffs are 100% from Welsh mythology - it was said that if you found a faerie ring on one but only put one foot in, you could see the faerie islands in the sea. And that faeries used to visit the human markets in Pembrokeshire and Ceredigion. So while gwyllion are unusual there, it's not an impossible relocation.) They were malicious and sometimes vicious faeries who delighted in making people lose their way, could strike an uncontrollable and ungodly terror into travellers, and who feature in more that one myth as an old woman that someone tried to approach, but they always appeared at the same distance away, impossible to catch up.
CAN YOU SEE THE PARALLELS
And the best part!! Is that this is why she defeats UNIT!!!
Kate tells Ruby that her agents have necklaces of silver and salt to keep out the supernatural, but that's just generic fairytale shit. That doesn't work on gwyllion. Salt drawn in a line would provide a barrier, but the UNIT soldiers aren't trying to trap or block the gwyll; they're trying to capture her. What works, very specifically, is a knife. Iron or steel for preference of course, but it needs to be a knife.
But UNIT has no Welsh employees and the soldiers have guns, not knives. And so they all become entranced.
(This is also what I think the gwyll 'says' to everyone to turn them against Ruby. She doesn't say anything - she sings.)
This is also the first time I've ever encountered any mainstream media doing Welsh faeries and understanding the tone to strike, which is 'unknowable, unstoppable and fucking terrifying'. I think I've only ever read it in Catharine Fisher books, and she's a Welsh author so... yeah, obviously. But I basically vibrated with delight and excitement for the entire episode.
Oh my god, hang on, Roger ap Gwilliam! Okay, I have two theories about him.
My weaker theory and the one I don't like is the kind of boring and obvious one, which is that he is himself not human. A lot of Welsh folklore features the devil, and I get that vibe from his role in the story. But, I'm not keen, because I can't see the link to the gwyll.
But my strongest theory, and the one I have chosen to believe, is that he's a human who made a deal with the Fae for power, and then reneged. There's a Metric Fuckton of stories about humans fucking up Fae gifts in some way, and the punishment is usually something ironic but always results in the loss of the gift. It could be a faerie harp that makes everyone dance, and the Fae tell the giftee not to abuse it, but they cruelly force everyone to dance so long and so hard that the faerie returns, takes back the harp, and then takes the human's ability to ever make music again, so example (by taking fingers or eyes or tongues as well, often.)
So I think Mad Jack strikes a bargain for power - but, then tries to abuse that power (nuclear war). But part of the bargain is that the Fae cannot approach him directly ever again. In the real world, they therefore tempt him into the faerie ring and bind his soul there, problem solved - until the Doctor accidentally lets him out, and gets his own soul stuck. Ruby, therefore, becomes the instrument through which they manage to take that power away once again - and then, her final Fae gift for her service is that they use the temporal anomaly of the faerie ring to send her back, at the end of her life, and give her a second chance. This time, with Mad Jack's soul left bound in Annwfn.
The fun part is, RTD is a writer who understands the power of not explaining everything and leaving some things up to the viewer's imagination, so none of this is ever going to be explained lol. But yeah, that is a gwyll. The moment she appeared, I said out loud "Oh holy fuck, gwyllion." That was a gwyll.
As a final observation, I loved seeing Siân Phillips, and I choose to believe they filmed those scenes in a pub because they could only get Siân if they agreed to just come to her local. The woman is a queen.
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murdrdocs · 4 months
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FOOLISH LOVERS. luke castellan
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description. luke castellan has betrayed camp half blood. luke castellan has made an enemy out of those around you. and unfortunately, luke castellan has always held a place in your heart that you can't close off. at least, not until you meet with him one final time.
includes. SMUT 18+, fem!reader, daughter of hypnos reader, oral (f and m receiving), brief anal rimming (f receiving), implied p n v, dreamscape sex again, angst galore, some arguing, references to pjo ep 8. inspo from wicked game by chris isaak
wc: 5.8k+
a/n: a dreamcatcher: daughter of the god of dreams installment.
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Before you can realize the change, you’re standing on a hill. 
It takes you a second to notice, but the area is much like your dreamscape. Low, waving blades of grass that travel through the air with the wind brushing against your bare ankles. The ocean is loud and to your right, down beneath a steep cliff. From just a quick glance, you see a storm brewing off into the distance. The water swirls angrily as if it’s ready to disrupt anything that dares to come into its path. 
You can’t help but think about the betrayed son of the sea god back in reality who surely feels the same. 
When you take your eyes away from the entrancing scenery of the ocean, you notice a cabin directly in front of you. It’s small, and made from long wooden logs, although there isn’t a forest nearby to identify the source of the frame. The exterior is slightly shabby, appearing manmade with a few imperfections. 
It’s not on a comparable scale to the cabins back at Camp Half-Blood, but something about it feels cozy. It gives implications of a simpler life. Maybe what summer camp could have been if you weren’t the offspring of a god. 
That and the clouds rumbling with warnings of an approaching storm is what encourages you to seek refuge in the four walls. 
Step by step, you don’t fail to notice how a focus subject has yet to appear. 
Your hand wraps around the doorknob and you push the slab of wood open as you wonder who’s dream you could have been pulled into tonight. 
You haven’t even stepped foot over the threshold, you have started to convince yourself that this is the dream of the son of the sea god, and then someone speaks. 
“Hey.” 
You stop. 
Your foot hovers for a second before you place it back beside the other. 
That voice. You hadn’t heard it for months now, but you know it. Day after day, you lay at night with your eyes closed, cementing the memory of the way he spoke and how he sounded as he laughed at your jokes into your mind. Forcing yourself to recall the inflections in his tone as he teased you, and how his words flattened out and got hard when he gave orders to yourself and others. And then, completely involuntarily, you would force yourself to pick through every single intonation and word that you could remember, attempting to find signs. Any hints or clues that Luke Castellan wasn’t the person he made himself out to be. 
Each night, you grapple with the fact that you couldn’t find any clues. You tried to reconcile with your blindness, all while telling yourself that you could have attempted to prevent it all. 
But hearing his voice now, none of that returns. Unexpectedly, your body floods with warmth. 
Luke sits on a small loveseat. The shape of it is a bit of a blur at first, but you blink and it cleans up to present a busy patterned textile couch. It’s well loved, there are a few tears in the bottom of the fabric at the back, and if you’re smelling it correctly, there’s a slight waft of cigarette smoke. 
Strangely enough, it’s inviting. 
You hate to admit it to yourself, but the boy sitting at one end of it makes it even more inviting. 
You step into the cabin and close the door behind you. 
“Hey, Luke.” 
He turns around to face you at the sound of your voice. You sound stronger than you expected. More casual, too. 
You realize that he’d been looking out a large set of windows before facing you. There’s only two but they take up most of the small wall. Outside is a perfect view of the land you’d just come from; bright green grass in the foreground and deep blue salt water off into the distance. 
Luke stares at you. 
The cabin is a little dark—there’s a lamp in the far corner that illuminates the room, washing out the otherwise blue light from outside—but you think his eyes are shining. As if there’s unshed tears barely held within them.
He smiles at you. It’s soft and almost mournful. 
You should leave. 
You shouldn’t be fraternizing with Luke at all, even if it is within a dreamscape. You couldn’t trust yourself in a room with him, especially with the things the two of you used to do when you were in dreamscapes alone. 
Just looking at him reminds you of all of those times. Sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. The feeling of his muscles beneath your inquisitive hands. The deep and smooth sound of his voice. The way everything felt so real and so tangible as he rocked into you, and then as euphoria swept over your bodies you felt so infinite and surreal. 
Your teeth find your lower lip. Your body urges you to get closer to Luke. Stubbornly, you stay in your spot. 
“What d’you think?” He lifts a finger and circles it around in the air. Your eyes lift and you finally take in the rest of the cabin. 
The main room is spacious, but comfortable. Lightly furnished with hardwood floors. Though almost every surface is covered in some sort of rug, most of them persian. There’s a small kitchen to your left, and then the living area that Luke sits in on the right. There’s a few bookshelves but there aren’t many books on them, and there’s a fireplace that looks to have never been used before. A few picture frames sit on the mantle of the fireplace, but from afar they just appear to be showcasing blobs of people without any distinctive features to identify an identity. 
Admittedly, for this to be the created dreamscape of the son of a messenger, it’s impressive. 
You tell him as such. 
This time, Luke’s smile is appreciative. 
“Means a lot coming from you. Especially with the things you can create.” 
Your skin heats up and you block the memories out of your head before they can firmly cement themselves once more. 
“You might have me beat, Castellan. Giving me a run for my money.” 
You don’t know why you decide to fall into the old routine with him. Maybe it’s because you can’t push Luke away for the life of you. He was once your friend and so much more at the same time. It’s impossible for you to completely forget the times you shared together. 
Maybe it’s the home making you feel this way. 
How comfortable it feels. How protective it is. 
You’ve spent weeks pulled into unfortunate dreams. Nightmares have plagued even the toughest minds of Camp Half Blood as of late, and you’ve been unable to fortify your own mind enough to prevent slipping into the mind of others. Which has left you to fight against unbeatable monsters, fortify the barriers of Camp only to have them knocked down by Zeus over and over again, watch those you love die in horrible battles, and much much more. 
In comparison, there is the possibility of a simple conversation with Luke Castellan giving you what you’d been desperately missing even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself: Luke’s company. 
It’s how you reason with yourself whenever you take a seat atop the cushion of the couch. Instantly, it feels as if you’ve never truly known comfort before. This couch conforms to the curves of your body. You lean back against it, pull your feet up with you, and you quickly decide to stay a little while longer. 
Up close, Luke looks even prettier than you remember. Dark curly hair a little more grown out, unruly and hanging over his forehead like low hanging fruit, begging for you to latch onto it. His face looks a little slimmer as if he’s lost weight, and the angular planes of his cheekbones and jawline accentuates the dark shadow he has along his chin. The mark of facial hair that was previously present. Beneath his clothes—a faded black, almost gray hoodie, and black sweatpants—he appears larger. His shoulders wider, his neck thicker, his wrist and hands veiner. 
(Compared to his covered body, you feel bare in nothing but long socks, and a matching shorts and tank top set.)
He looks virtually the same, but his aura is different. There’s more confidence in him, a larger ego, glory even, that wasn’t there the last time you’d seen him. You know what has caused the change, and it should be something you despise. But his new glory makes him more attractive. It dries out your tongue and lodges something in your throat, pushing it further down until it sits heavy in your stomach. 
“Thought this could be our new spot.” Luke speaks softly, almost in a scared whisper, as if he fears that you’ll reject him. 
(You don’t know if you could ever reject Luke)
Your eyebrows furrow. “Our spot?” Confusion drips off of your words. 
Luke nods once. He licks over his lips and you’re quick to peel your eyes away from the sight and back to his eyes. That’s not helping you much either so you instead try to figure out what books are on the shelves afar. 
Since the little amount of time that has passed, there have been a few more added. From the ones that have already been there, the titles are too far away, too dream disoriented, and your dyslexia hasn’t escaped this dream, but you think you find novels on Seeing. Guides on how to decipher the visions that come to humans, or how to channel them. 
You focus back on Luke. 
“Yeah. Like the old bedroom. But a little more …” he hesitates to find the word then lands on, “Casual.” 
The bedroom. 
Your lower stomach stirs at the mention of it. The large bed, how warm it always was in there, the cold leather of the couch, the things the two of you did to each other on all surfaces. 
This spot is definitely a lot more casual. You’re not instantly compelled to straddle Luke here, although you do have a few thoughts about throwing your legs over his right now and reconnecting in ways you’ve missed since he left. 
So badly do you want to agree. This could be the one place where you get to experience what you’ve been missing without anyone else knowing. This is the only place where you can see Luke without anyone else knowing. 
But it’s wrong. 
He’s the cause of all of this. He’s caused the nightmares you’ve been pulled into. He has betrayed everyone on levels you could have never imagined. And who’s to say that he won’t betray you again. 
“We won’t need a ‘spot’, Luke.” Briefly, his eyes flash as if he’s hurt but in your eyes, Luke has proven himself to be a formidable actor as of late so you ignore it. “This is a one time thing.” 
A moment passes. And then another. 
You turn to watch the sea out in the distance. It appears as if the ocean has lulled for the time being. The sky is still dark, but it has yet to deepen in color. 
Luke takes a breath and you give him your attention again. 
“Why won’t you join me?” 
His eyes flash betrayal, his lips twist into something sorrowful. 
Your answer comes easy. The same one you’ve told yourself over and over again, night by night when you considered reaching out to him. 
“Because it’s not right, Luke.”
When he stands, his newfound power becomes even more clear. It leaks from his pores, spews from his mouth with his words. 
“How could it be ‘wrong’ when you feel the same. All that time you spent telling me about your father. How neglected you felt. What happened to that?” 
Your head shakes. You stand, too, evening out the field for both of you. 
“This is not what I meant. I–” The words don’t find you. Luke takes notice. 
“You what? Love your father? Love the gods? After how they treat you. How they treat us.” 
“Don’t say ‘us’. We aren’t together, Luke.” 
That same look flashes in his eyes once more. He takes a step forward, you take one back. 
He doesn’t say anything. You watch his hand reach behind his back. 
“What, are you gonna fight me like you did with Percy?” 
His head shakes. His eyes harden. He pulls his hand back and it comes up empty. 
“He attacked first.” 
Your voice starts to rise. “And you tried to kill him, Luke. He’s twelve. What don’t you understand about that? ” 
“Twelve and a forbidden child. In the grand scheme of things, his age doesn’t matter. He’s powerful. More powerful than both of us combined.” 
“So is that why you tried to kill him? Because he’s a threat?” 
“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Not here. Not now.” 
“Yeah? Well then when? And where? Because this is the last time you’ll be seeing me, Luke.” 
“Okay.” 
Your eyebrows raise. Disbelief paints over your features. You’d expected more of a fight. For Luke to disagree or attempt to convince you to return to him a few more times after this. Maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe you wanted him to convince you that you needed him. Maybe you wanted to hear him tell you that he needed you. 
Either way, your reply is the same as his. 
“Okay.” You turn and take the few steps it takes to get to the door. 
Your chest heaves with large gulps of air in and small breaths of letting them out. Your body is buzzing, the same feeling you would get before sparring with Luke. The same feeling you would get before your bodies joined together. 
You tell yourself to reach out for the door handle. You tell yourself to lift your arm, connect your hand with the metal, and pull it open. You tell yourself to return to your own dreamscape, maybe even reality, and forget any of this ever happened. 
Maybe you would’ve done it if Luke hadn’t spoken. 
“You can walk out that door but that won’t change how you truly feel.” 
He doesn’t add on. You don’t move. 
“And how do I feel?” 
The adrenaline is overwhelming you. You need to expel it out of your body somehow. 
As Luke is speaking, you’re already approaching him. 
“I’m sure I don’t need to answer that for you.”
When he speaks, it’s with arrogance. His confidence is heavily laced in his words, overflowing until it drips out into the air and lodges in your chest. Running through your body and down to your fingertips. It annoys you, makes you want to battle it out with him in a fight you’re sure to lose. 
Your feet thud against the floor with each step until you’re close enough to cup his cheeks in both of your hands and pull his face down to yours. 
There’s no hesitation in the kiss from either side. As if both of you were expecting it to happen eventually. 
Luke kisses you back vehemently, his lips messily sliding against yours as he presses into the center of your back, accentuating the curve and drawing your chest into his. His free hand glides down your side to your hips. He circles to your back, dragging his palm down to rest over the curve of your ass. He grips the flesh through the soft fabric of your shorts, digging his blunt nails in before continuing his hand—open palmed—down to grip the back of your thigh. 
His other hand mirrors his previous actions until he has a hand on either thigh. He tugs once, and you collaborate to wrap your legs around his waist and hook your ankles behind his back. Your hands dig into his hair, and your core tightens as you prepare to continue holding yourself up. But Luke takes most of the load. 
He places his hands on your bottom to keep you lifted. You expect him to walk you back to the couch, or maybe pin you to a wall. But he doesn’t. 
He holds you against him in the center of the living room, kissing you like he’ll never get to kiss you again. You don’t fail to realize how he likely won’t. 
His tongue slides against yours, your teeth knock together at least twice, both of you refuse to pull away to breathe which results in heavy exhales through your noses against the skin of the other cheek. 
While it may be uncoordinated, it’s not primal. 
There’s copious amounts of longing beneath each pass of your tongues against each other. There’s human emotion behind the way you tug on his hair and how he uses one hand to pull your hips closer to him. There’s raw longing in the soft sighs and gasps you both let out into the other’s mouth, taking it in and replicating the noises over and over again. 
When you finally do part, it’s with a wet, pronounced smack. 
“Luke,” you gasp his name before you can realize it’s happening. One of your hands moves from his hair to hold his cheek. Your fingers spread around his ear and your thumb probes into his jaw. 
He hums, his eyes still shut. 
“I want you,” you admit. 
You watch the smile spread across his lips, his eyes flickering open to look into your soul. 
“Took you long enough to admit it.” 
You suck your teeth and roll your eyes. Your other hand, previously resting on his shoulder, slaps his bicep. 
“Don’t be an asshole about it.” 
He laughs as he apologizes, knocking his forehead against yours. “Sorry, pretty girl.” 
He takes a moment.
When he speaks, his eyes are nothing but earnest. His words are slow and careful, despite how simple they are. They fill your chest with warmth. They comfort you, possibly in slight delusion as you instantly believe him without caring about what repercussions his promise could come with. 
“You have me. Always have. Always will.” 
You’re quick to surge forward. 
Luke is quick to reciprocate. 
This time, he walks you back to the couch. He settles you on it carefully, not lifting his hands from your bottom until you’re seated securely along the loveseat and pulled to the edge by his hands hooked under your knees. 
His own knees dig into the rug beneath the furniture. His head is tipped up to continue kissing you, this one lacking the over enthusiasm from before. Now, he takes his time, having confessed his desire to be with you as long as you’ll let him. 
It’s not long until he pulls away and trails his lips down, kissing along your decollete, not stopping when he comes in contact with the fabric of your small shirt. He presses his lips into the fabric firmly, as if he’s trying to reach your skin beneath the layer.
You feel the pressure he has beneath each kiss as he trails down, and you arch into his touch, excitement spreading through your lower half whenever Luke digs his fingers into the elastic of your shorts and pulls them off of your legs before he even reaches there. 
You’re quick to leave your legs open, even going as far as to spread them a little more to give Luke more room. 
His wide shoulders fill the space. They nudge against your knees and instead of letting you spread your legs even more, he throws them over his shoulders, effectively caging himself in with your limbs. 
If the small smile on his face is anything to go by, he’s happy about his position. 
You’re still wearing your panties. Your hands trail down to get rid of them, but Luke stops you with a hand on your lower abdomen. 
“Let me,” he tells you, voice soft and light. 
You remove your hands and do as told. It’s a simple system you have worked out, Luke slowly but surely working his way down to where you want him. He's eager, and you know he wants himself there as much as you do. 
It’s strange what desire could make you do. 
You’ve never been anything but loyal to Camp Half-Blood. To both of your parents. And in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t allow yourself to do this.
 But you’ll simply have a final time with Luke. That’s it. Sharing your body with him, and having his body shared with you, won’t make you forget his transgressions. 
As your panties are pulled off of your legs, and your skin is once again placed above the thick fabric on the shoulders of his sweatshirt, you tell yourself that this won’t change anything. 
You’ll never be able to forget what he has done. What he’s planning to do. 
Except, perhaps, you can push it aside for as long as you’ll have to while you let yourself get lost in his touch. 
The first pass of his tongue is a long stripe between your folds. He spreads you open with his thumbs, pulling at the skin on either side to expose your center. Then he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your clit. 
He puckers his lips, sucking twice before flicking his tongue against the bud. 
Your hands card through his hair, ignoring the way your fingers get stuck on a few stubborn curls that refuse to separate in favor of grounding yourself. It feels too good, and you haven’t been in this position for too long. There’s nothing you fear more right now than getting too lost and waking up in the real world before you’re even satisfied. 
Luke brings his attention back down to your entrance where he laps up what you’ve been leaking. He groans, peeling his mouth away and you stare down at him, entranced by how grateful he looks. 
Eyes closed, face completely relaxed, his scar laid flat against his cheek, his pink lips parted and glistening. 
He looks ethereal. The sight is addicting. 
“Missed this so much,” he admits, tongue flickering out to lick the remnants of your arousal off of his lips. 
You feel the same, but you refuse to tell him that. Instead, you scrape your nails at his scalp lightly and shuffle your hips, hoping that alone is enough to capture Luke’s attention again. 
Either he catches the memo or he had the same idea as you because his lips are right back between your legs.
You’d expected him to behave like a man starved, licking and sucking your cunt like you would disappear any moment. Instead, he takes his time with you. He utilizes the best part about being in a dreamscape: the lack of concrete time. 
He savors the taste of your cunt, and the little sounds you make. His fingers press into the tops of your thighs as he holds them down against his shoulders to prevent you from squirming. His nose nudges against your clit and digs into the short hair you have on your mound. 
He presses his tongue everywhere that he can, sometimes even sliding further down to rim areas still unexplored. Each time, you would tense up just a little less, until eventually you were trying to subtly urge his head further down for him to do it just one more time. 
And when he does, that’s when the coil in your lower belly gets as tight as it could get, just before snapping from the tension. You would have warned him. Or, maybe you did. You were so focused on getting there that any words that came out of your mouth weren’t even considered. You weren’t aware of anything other than your mouth moving at the same speed as your hips as you dragged your cunt against Luke’s face, using him to guide your orgasm to full completion. 
As soon as your hips stop twitching you swing your legs off of his shoulders and slide to the floor beside him. You pull your shirt off, then do the same for Luke, throwing both of your tops off to the side. 
Unsurprisingly, he’s not wearing another layer beneath the sweatshirt, allowing you to run your palms down his chest, feeling the familiar definition along his abdomen. 
You sit in front of him with your legs folded underneath you, and since he’s on his haunches, he towers over you just a bit. You have to tilt your head up to kiss at his jaw and neck, your hands busying themselves with urging his sweatpants off of his hips. 
Luke does the rest of the job for you, hesitantly pulling away from your touch to stand and slide his sweatpants off of his legs himself. You’re left on the ground, hands politely resting in your lap while you stare up at Luke with wide eyes. 
He slowly reveals more and more of his legs until he’s wearing nothing but his briefs. They hug him well, like they always have. A prominent outline of the muscle definition in his thighs, elastic waistband hanging low enough on his hips for you to see the ‘V’ that connects his hips and abdomen. And of course, the tight material reveals the prominent boner confined within the crotch of his briefs. 
You want to reach up and palm him. You want to pull the final layer off of him. You want to take his cock into your mouth and relax with the heavy and warm feeling of him against your tongue. 
But you decide to be patient. And it’s worth it. 
Luke slides his briefs off himself, never breaking eye contact with you as he throws them to join the rest of your clothing. His stare is strong and heavy as he spits into his hand and puts his dick into the same place, wrapping his palm around the center of it and stroking a few times. 
There’s the prettiest, most picturesque bead of precum at the tip and you’re practically salivating just looking at it, praying deep down that Luke doesn’t run his hand over it so you can have it for yourself. 
As if sensing your inner turmoil, Luke takes a step closer, holding the base of his cock right in front of your face, allowing you to get the perfect view of how his tip is a light pink around the almost clear drop of precum. 
“You want?” he asks you simply, smiling a bit when you nod eagerly. “Then open.” 
You’re quick to do as told, lacking any shame whenever you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. As soon as Luke presses his tip to your muscle, you wrap your lips around him and eagerly suck him clean. 
Another good thing about the dreamscape is that everything either tastes like absolutely nothing, or like pure honey. And when you’re with Luke, things are usually the latter. 
You start to get lost in it, enthusiastically beginning to suck Luke off even though you were only meant to be getting a taste. 
You can see that Luke is close to commenting on it. His eyes shine like they do before he has something to say, but just when his lips part and he takes a breath to speak, you hollow your cheeks and sink as far down him as you can and any words he could have conjured up are suddenly gone. 
He lets you do what you want, eyes fluttering shut and one large hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to suck him off. He lets out the smallest noises, pretty grunts and groans and sighs. 
Luke was clearly just as wound up as you were. Within a couple of minutes he’s already starting to spew out praises like he does when he’s close. Some of them are fragments, broken words strung together in incomplete sentences. 
“So … doing so .. you’re–” when you swirl your tongue at the tip and tease his balls just a bit. 
“Gods, you’re so good at this,” when you jerk the majority of his dick with one hand and focus your mouth on his tip with the other. 
“Close. So close. Almost there, dove” when you take all of him into your mouth once more, throat molding around the definite shape of him. 
And when he cums down your throat, you’re so satisfied that you can’t help but moan unabashedly along with him. 
You’ve only just swallowed his cum before his cock is pulled out of your mouth and he’s back on his knees in front of you. 
His arms wrap around your waist, he pulls you into his lap, laying his head on your chest and just letting himself be. 
Just existing. 
After a couple of minutes, you stop expecting him to speak and decide to just exist too. Your breathing eventually matches up, in and out, in and out, over and over again in tandem. Outside, rain starts to thud against the roof of the small home. Distantly, there’s the faint sound of thunder, and you’re sure the ocean is swirling angrily. 
None of that matters, though. You’ll be left to decipher the metaphorical meanings of it all later, when you aren’t coexisting in the shared warmth from you and Luke. 
When he isn’t kissing the tops of your breasts and holding you securely in his arms. 
Eventually, Luke does break the silence. His voice is low when he does, both in volume and tone. 
“Can I have you? Just one final time?” 
He talks into your skin without looking directly at you. But as you start to respond, you cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. 
The entire time, you’ve been fighting this battle. Knowing you wanted Luke, knowing you wanted to be with Luke, but also knowing it was wrong. All of it was wrong. 
But right here, right now, you let go. You nod unashamedly. You kiss his forehead then the tip of his nose then his lips, before landing on the bottom end of his scar. 
You tell him, “Yes. Of course, Luke”, as if he didn’t even have to ask in the first place. 
And truthfully, you don’t think he did. 
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” 
Luke is in the middle of pulling his sweatshirt back over his head when you speak. There’s a second where the fabric is hiding his face, slowly revealing the curls at the top of his head, then his dark eyebrows, and finally his eyes. They look as they have the entire time: despondent. 
“I know you didn’t. Neither did I.” You have a feeling that neither of you are speaking about the same specific thing, but the overlap in your conditions is so wide that you don’t bother correcting him. 
He reaches behind his back once more and when he pulls his hand back around, he has his camp necklace dangling from his fingers. He undoes the knot, and holds it open, waiting, until finally you turn around and let him delicately tie it around your neck. 
Your hand touches the beads. You want to thank him, but it doesn’t feel right. 
Instead, your lips twist into what you hope comes off as a thankful smile when you turn around. When Luke replicates it, you feel a little better. 
There’s a moment, just a brief moment there where you’re both staring at each other and the memory of Luke’s hands and lips and tongue and his everything engrossing you, taking your everything and combining them together, is still fresh on your mind. The warmth of his eyes and the warmth of his camp necklace around your throat heals you. And you consider that your feelings for Luke were stronger than you ever forced yourself to acknowledge. 
He was more than a close friend to you. More than someone you looked up to. More than someone you shared your body with in the dreamscape. 
He was more. 
It feels unfair for you to have these emotions. The wrongness of it all—your feelings for Luke Castellan, how he’d turned out—has rage fueling deep in your gut. With no one else to blame it on, you can’t help but briefly curse the gods. 
For they were the ones to cause this. To instill deep hatred into Luke’s chest. To prevent either of you from ever having a normal life where you could live and breathe and love without the burdens placed upon you both. 
A life where you wouldn’t have to love and lose someone like Luke. 
But there’s nothing for you to do about it now. 
You don’t want to leave. But your time together is up. You should’ve left a long time ago, and your choice to stay before resulted in something you could never take back. 
You turn and walk to the door. And once more, Luke speaking causes you to stop. 
“You are the only one who could make me change my mind.” He says it in a small whisper, as if he doesn’t want to admit it even to himself. As if he shouldn’t be admitting it at all.
‘Are’. His feelings for you still haven’t changed. You don’t know if they ever will. 
Either way, you’re forced to change yours.  
You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything. Your hand reaches for the doorknob. You take it in your palm, gripping and turning at the same time until the latch is undone. 
The door opens and fills the room with the sound of rain falling. It’s loud and fills the empty space. Up until Luke speaks and the baritone of his voice joins it. 
“This is it?” 
You nod once. Luke’s scoff sounds painful. It’s bitter with an edge of hatred. Maybe disbelief. 
It makes tears brim at your eyes. Your nose stings. Your throat feels as if it’s constricting with the effort to hold your tears back. 
Luke takes a breath. You step one foot out of the door. 
“Dreamcatcher,” he calls to get your attention, the nickname giving you that fuzzy feeling you used to get from just seeing him around camp. “We’ll be seeing each other again.” 
And then your foot lands on the dry green grass of your own dreamscape. 
Just a few hours later, you rise with the morning sun, sneaking off to the showers before everyone else to get rid of the stickiness between your thighs. 
The dream might not have been real, but the evidence between your legs certainly was. Strangely enough, that and the additional chord of beads around your neck. You only notice it when you’ve undressed and stepped beneath the shower head, scrubbing at your skin and running into additional jewelry you hadn’t expected to have been there. 
You take it off and slip it with the rest of your clothes as a keepsake, carrying it around in your pocket for only you to know about.
3K notes · View notes
reidmotif · 10 months
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Popsicle Love
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Summary: Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct station, getting on each other's nerves arguing. Reader realizes she can get back at him, using a certain sweet treat.
Prompt: Spencer can't deal with how much Reader loves popsicles/ice cream cones
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Reader POV, rough sex, hair-pulling, dom!Spencer, coworker relationship, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving) , dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected penetrative sex, bathroom sex, hate-fucking, pure smut
Word Count: 3.2k
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“It is too fucking hot for this” was my first thought as he began talking to me. Fuck Spencer Reid, because he was the who decided that today, in the sweltering Georgia heat, was the day he would annoy the ever-loving shit out of me. 
“You’re going about this all wrong!” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. His sleeves were pulled up, and there was anger in his eyes. I crossed my legs, feeling my skirt ride up but I honestly couldn’t care less. It was scorching, and I was determined to not lose this argument to Reid. I let out a breath of air, meeting him with my own annoyed, exasperated expression. 
“Reid, you’re being absolutely childish right now.” I retorted. “Sort through the paperwork first, then analyze it! Not everyone wants to do things the way you insist on doing them!” I say, furrowing my brows. 
“Not everyone can.” He says, cockily, a smirk gracing his lips. That motherfucker. 
I was about to get up and honestly hit him square in the jaw, half from my delusion in the heat, and half from how fucking smug he sounded. I wanted to knock that smirk off his face, and maybe ruin that pretty smile of his in the process, just as an added bonus. 
Thankfully, before I could do anything rash that would definitely result in me losing my job, one of the officers of the station quickly came to interrupt us. 
“Hey, one of the officers brought in popsicles. If any of y’all would like any, they’re in the breakroom.” She said, turning away. Thank God for Southern hospitality, I suppose. 
I sighed, getting up from my spot. Spencer and I clearly weren’t getting anywhere when it came to our disagreements, and that’s how it was, and how it would remain to be. The man was a pain-in-the-fucking ass, and it was an honest shame, considering the fact he was actually pretty hot, especially when his mouth wasn’t moving. 
Spencer walked ahead of me, the idea of something to cool him down enticing him just as much as it did me. We reached the breakroom and he opened the freezer, taking out the box of popsicles, and looking into it. He pulled out two, presumably one for me, and one for him. 
“Blue or red?” He says, holding out the brightly colored packages, offering me a choice of one. 
“Red.” I say, reaching over with no hesitation and grabbing the red-colored packaging in his hand. “Duh.” I added, starting to unwrap the treat. “It’s the best flavor.” 
He scoffed a little, opening up his own, blue package, and I rolled my eyes at the sound. 
“What, are you going to argue with me about my choices in popsicle flavor too now?” I say, with a disbelieving tone. 
“No, it’s nothing,” He says, shrugging, with that same, shit-eating, self-satisfied grin.
 God, I hated him. 
I gave a deep exhale through my nose, forcing myself to calm down. I decided it’d be for the best if I walked out, left him here alone to avoid another fight. He called out before I could even walk two steps. 
“You have to eat here.” He said, taking licks at his popsicle. “The officers- they’re old fashioned. I don’t know.” He adds, “If you wanna be yelled at though, be my guest.”
I grumbled internally at that, but I knew he was right. I didn’t want to be yelled at. 
I took my place, leaning against a table that had been placed in the breakroom and taking my own popsicle out of the packaging, beginning to eat it. I sighed happily as I felt the taste settle on my tongue, the coolness blooming throughout my mouth. I began by licking the sides before taking it in my mouth. I suckled for a minute, and I could feel it already melting down my fingers a bit, due to the heat in the station. I released the popsicle in my mouth with a pop, before going to lick the sticky residue off my fingers. It was a little childish, sure, but it was hot and it wasn’t like anyone was watching me. I continued this cycle, softly sucking at the popsicle and wrapping my tongue around it until I heard what sounded like ... a whimper from across the room? I let my eyes drift up, noticing a seemingly flustered Spencer in the corner of my eye. He leaned away from me, crossing his legs. I knitted my brows, before putting the pieces together, realizing what had happened. 
He was a guy, after all. And I suppose the way I was eating my popsicle could come off as suggestive, but come on! How else was I meant to eat it? And armed with the knowledge that my innocent action was enough to provoke him, I decided a little more intent in my movement couldn’t hurt. 
I began to take the popsicle a little more vigorously, bobbing my head a bit. My lips wrapped around the treat, and I could feel Spencer’s eyes shamelessly on me and internally grinned. Good. He had annoyed me all day, and the idea of him dealing with a hard-on with no way to relieve himself was definitely karmic justice in my eyes. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste, but also in the way I could feel Spencer shifting around, trying to hide what seemed like a fast-growing erection. When I hollowed out my cheeks, and swirled my tongue around the sweetness in my mouth, I could hear a sound from the back of his throat escaping his lips. I let the popsicle out of my mouth, and in that moment, a melted chunk seemed to fall off, landing itself on my chest. I hissed, feeling the coldness of the tacky liquid running down my bare skin. 
“Shit.” I said, trying to flick off the liquid off my hands and realizing I’d need to clean myself up. I dropped the remainder of the popsicle in the trash, not bothering to look back, before I walked over to the bathroom. I let out a breath of air as I opened the door to the precinct bathroom, looking at my chest and sighing, grabbing a handful of paper towels to run under the sink to wash myself with. 
Before I could do that though, I heard the door swing open, and saw through the mirror it was none other than Spencer Reid.  I crossed my arms, putting my back to the counter of the sink as I turned around to look him up and down. 
“What are you doing here?” I remarked, with a displeased tone. 
He looked absolutely furious, and there was a slight part of me that was excited, knowing I could rile him up like this. He was breathing heavily, and moving closer to me, trapping me in between the counter and his body, and what felt like a very noticeable hardness pressing against my thigh. 
“The better question is, what the fuck are you doing?” He asked, his tone low and menacing. 
I rolled my eyes, before feigning a look of innocence, making my eyes wide. “What do you mean, Spencer?” 
“You know exactly what I mean.” He responds, gripping a piece of hair at the back of my skull and pulling slightly, forcing me to bare my neck to him. “Where do you get off doing something like that to me, huh?” He murmurs, leaning closer and letting his lips brush over the shell of my ear. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I retorted hastily,  but I could hear the shakiness in my voice. The way he was speaking, the pull he had on my hair- it thrilled me, and contributed to a growing heat between my legs. 
He pushed himself further and further against me, and I could feel his erection against my thigh even more so than before, and felt my stomach flutter at the feeling. My jaw dropped a bit, letting out a soft sigh, sensitive to the sensation. 
“Oh is that right?” Spencer replies, nodding as he spoke a little cruelly. “You like acting like this? Like a goddamn slut?” He grunts out. He twists and pulls my hair a little more, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. 
“You like it when I pull on your pretty hair like that?” He said, snarking the words at me. “Like how wet I make you?” He whispered, venom in his voice. 
Without warning, he placed his fingers at the growing wet patch at my underwear, roughly pushing it aside before starting to rub harsh, tight circles around my clit. I nearly lost my mind at the sensation, nearly doubling over with pleasure. 
I whimpered softly, and I could feel his smirk as he started to kiss up and down my neck. “So wet for me, mm?” He says, starting to move his fingers faster over my swollen clit. “I’ve barely touched you. You’re fucking needy for me, yeah?” 
I groaned, not processing enough of what he was saying to warrant a response. My brain was foggy from how good he was making me feel. I tried to not think about the fact that this was Spencer, the Spencer who’d annoyed me from the moment I’d joined the BAU. The Spencer I despised, the one I was supposed to hate- but here was, making me orgasm in a precinct bathroom with his fingers alone. 
He rubbed a bit faster, before thrusting two fingers into my needy cunt. I moaned again, louder, and he responded by burying his fingers even deeper into my core, pumping harshly. I could feel the room spinning, gripping onto the counter behind me to stabilize me as my orgasm began to approach me rapidly. He watched me intently, his gaze hot and intense before smirking. “Come for me. Come all over my fingers, (Y/N).” He whispered. 
I did, nearly on command, convulsing against him as I felt myself clench around his long, slender digits, my moans reverberating around the small space.
He withdrew his fingers suddenly, leaving me painfully empty before he began to grab my face roughly, forcing me to look at him.
“Say that you want this, bitch.” He whispers harshly, pulling my hair and eliciting yet another moan from me as he pushed me up against the counter. 
“Spencer..” I murmured, feeling my knees go a bit weak at how roughly he was manhandling me. He spun our positions around, and I felt him using the grip on my hair to push me down to my knees.
“Say it!” He said, a little more firmly now. “I need to hear you say it.” 
I felt the desperation in his tone, weakly looking up at him from this angle before I nodded quickly. 
“I want you. I want this.” I wailed, arousal coursing through my veins. I no longer cared about the humiliation of letting him use me like this. I wanted to chase this feeling forever, wanted to be at his mercy for as long as he wanted, as long as he could continue to make me feel this good. 
I felt him groan above me, before he pulled me closer to his bulge, raising an eyebrow. He looked absolutely wild from here, sweat dripping down from his brow, and sleeves pushed up. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.
“Go on then. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He mocked, but I could tell his voice was strained with the exact same need I was feeling in the moment. 
I gave no protest, using my deft fingers to quickly undo his slacks, pulling them down along with his boxers, watching his heavy cock bob in the air for a moment, before looking up at him, my jaw slightly agape. 
Was this really happening?
He nodded, as if to give me an okay, and I didn’t need any more encouragement than that. I swirled my tongue around his tip,  watching in fascination as I heard a groan from him, his head falling back as he moaned. “Fuck, (Y/N). Just like that.”
I grew bolder with his praise. I began to take more of him in my mouth, using my hands where my tongue wouldn’t reach. I gripped and worked his base, while suckling on what my mouth could reach. As I got used to the intrusion in my mouth, I moved down slowly, eventually taking the whole of him. He moaned loudly at this, and gripped my hair tighter, starting to move me up and down his cock. I relaxed the muscles in my mouth, letting him use me as he pleased. I watched from the lower angle the best I could, the sight of him coming undone at my mouth absolutely gorgeous. I could feel the tears pooling in the corner of my eyes, the saliva dripping down from my mouth and covering my chest. I wanted to watch him fall apart, to be at my mercy just as much as I was at his. 
He moaned at the feeling, and I could feel myself get wetter at the sound. “Oh fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He groaned out, before grabbing my hair yet again, and holding my head in place. He started to fuck my throat roughly, and the tears began to flow a little more rapidly, feeling the pooling of saliva down my chin as I felt him hit the back of my throat.
“You like this, huh?” He teased from above, between pants and sighs. “Wanted me all riled up, so we could do this, right?” 
I nodded desperately, incoherent begs and whines coming from my mouth before he pulled me off with a tug. I felt delightfully dirty, as he forced me up again and kissed me roughly. I barely registered him turning us around in my lustful stupor, bending me mercilessly against the sink and lifting up my skirt, pulling my underwear down in a clean swoop. I could feel him squeezing the fat of my hips and moaned at the way he controlled me so easily, to which he let out a smug chuckle. 
He gripped my hair again, pulling my head up and forcing me to look at myself. We looked sinful, his cock pressing against my wet folds, teasing me. 
“See that? You look like a fucking whore.” He snarled, breathing heavily. 
I wasn’t going to let him win so easily. Even though I wanted the same things as him, I knew the more I teased him, the better I’d get from him. I  raised an eyebrow and breathlessly murmured, “Are you going to stand there and look at me, or are you going to  fuck me, Reid?” 
He bared his teeth at me, thrusting into me roughly with no warning. “Oh, you wanna be fucked? Then take it.” He groaned, starting to buck his hips against me like a man possessed. 
I moaned at the sudden feeling, letting my jaw drop fully to let out all my noises. I could feel the slaps of his skin against mine, and the smell of sex filling up the small space. His fingers gripped so tightly into my stomach I swear I could feel the bruises already blooming over my stomach. I let him fill me up, his thick cock passing through me roughly, over and over again. 
“So fucking warm and wet. You feel..” He paused, moaning and jutting against me faster. “So fucking good.” 
I could see the sweat dripping down his brow, and the way it collected down his neck. In this moment though, the only heat I could focus on was no longer the one around us, but the one that came from every brutal pass of his cock, creating a delicious burn I reveled in with every moment he stayed inside me. I moaned loudly, feeling myself get hotter and hotter with every second. 
I watched through the mirror as he fucked me into the counter with no restraint, his head thrown back, eyes shut as he continued to use me, plowing into me from behind. I could feel my knees getting weaker, feeling his cock twitch inside of me as I arched my back to take more of him. He groaned at the sensation of him bottoming out, the rhythm of his hips becoming irregular as he continued to rut into me. I rolled my hips against him, hoping to spur on our impending releases. He thrust into me once or twice , until I felt him come with a loud moan,  a familiar warmth pooling into my deepest point, but even then his hips didn't still. He fucked his own arousal into me, and I could feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, his lazy thrusts doing me in, and soon enough I was spasming over his cock, moaning loudly. 
He pulled out of me, and my eyes fluttered shut at the sudden emptiness. I could feel his cum dripping down my leg, and his eyes watching in fascination as the mixture of both of our releases leaked out of me. He pulled up my underwear, immediately soaking up the liquids, and I groaned at the feeling. He pulled me up, leaning me against the sink. 
I watched as he panted against the sink, and I swear, I would’ve fallen over without his steady grip on my hips. He and I were both flushed, my hair absolutely ruined from how hard he’d been pulling it, my tear-stained face still contorted in an expression of pleasure as we both recovered from the highs of our orgasms. 
“Did I hurt you?” He asks, in between his breaths, looking genuinely concerned. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
I laughed a little bit at that, shaking my head. “You were the perfect amount of rough. Don’t worry.” I say, waving him off a little, assuring him that I got just as much out of this as he did. 
As he tucked himself back into his pants, he grinned at me for seemingly no reason. I met his eyes with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow, pressing my lips together. “What are you grinning about?” I ask, trying to fix my hair as I look at him.
He walked over to me, turning me to face the mirror. I felt his chest against my back, and one of his large hands came to wrap themselves around me, before he ghosted a finger over my chest and whispered against my ear. “You still have some of that goddamn popsicle on you.” He says, trying not to laugh. 
I rolled my eyes, chuckling a bit as I remembered the entire reason he’d been provoked to do this, and went to go finally wipe off the sticky residue once and for all. “Oh yeah. Popsicle.” I said, teasingly. 
“Never do that again.” He says, starting to move away from me as he worked on making himself presentable enough to leave the bathroom with me. 
I paused, turning around to look at him, still appearing completely fucked out and dazed as I smirked a bit. “If it gets you to fuck me like that? No promises.” 
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wow! a short fic from me?! crazy!! i wanted to try my hand at writing something smutty, but short. this was specifically written for @imagining-in-the-margins summer sunshine challenge, so go check that out :3 thank you for any likes, reblogs or comments. <3 i'm eternally thankful
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star-sim · 4 months
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boy's night ☆ riki nishimura
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☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words
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"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.
Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.
There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.
Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.
Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.
Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.
He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.
Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.
Enter: You.
You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.
Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.
You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!
Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.
"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.
"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.
"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"
With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.
"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—
".... But you think she's pretty, right?"
And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.
And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.
So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.
It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 
The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.
"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.
The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.
"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.
"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"
Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.
"Move your fatass head!"
"I can't see!"
As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.
What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?
His head was spinning.
"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.
"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.
"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.
"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.
"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"
"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 
"Why is that a bad thing?"
All of his friends groaned.
They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.
Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.
"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"
"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.
"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"
"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.
"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."
Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."
They all groaned loudly.
"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"
Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.
"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 
Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.
"She responded!"
Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.
"Oh my god, it's happening!"
"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"
"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"
And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.
[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 
"OHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"
According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.
"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"
"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"
"I agree," Sunoo said.
"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"
But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.
"Riki, what are you doing?!"
Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.
I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.
When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.
"It's over."
"You're insane."
"Fumbled."
Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"
The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.
You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.
"Good game, guys."
"100% over."
Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?
But then you finally replied.
My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.
Oh.
My.
God.
Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.
I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 
"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"
Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.
"D-Did she just ask you out?"
Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."
"Yes?!"
Riki blinked again. "Yeah."
.
.
.
And then it hit him.
"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"
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hazelsmirrorball · 5 months
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It's Not My Fault You're like In love with me or something | Charles Leclerc
SUMMARY: Y/n L/n new movie is opening new opportunities for her which means she has to do interviews were people can see her "lack of media training" and they start to doubt her relationship with Charles FACE CLAIM: Reneé Rapp pairings: Actress! Reader x Charles Leclerc a/n: I actually enjoyed the new mean girls movie and I am deeply in lov3 with reneé so here you guys go!
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via twitter
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y/nupdates via instagram
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liked by username101, username23, yourusername and 1,390 others.
y/nupdates y/n leaving the after party after taking a tumble
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username19 now I know why Charles been mia she's literally making a fool out of herself
username123 mother
username12 ngl she ate with that fit
yourusername still can't believe that a fan account is the one that is exposing me
landonorris thanking the gods that the internet and Digital footprints is real
y/n via instagram
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liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,903,290 others
yourusername cast party baby! No one got hurt in the making of these pics
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username120 okay? but Charles wasn't there?
username19 The paps pictures literally put you on blast
pierregasly I think the moment you took that picture with the champagne was the perfect moment to stop drinking
→ yourusername just looking for the person who asked
username15 the girls are fighting. Please @charles_leclerc come get your girl
→ yourusername Come get your girl @pierregasly
francisca.cgomes you look so so beautiful
username192 Charles not commenting freaks me out
via YouTube
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yourusername via instagram
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liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, arthur_leclerc and 2,302,290 others.
yourusername mean girls out in theaters now!
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username21 what? girl after that interview I would've turned the comments off
username12 don't you have media training or something
username19 her pr manager has to work harder than the mclaren one
username160 Mother
username12 it's so hard that the f1 fandom doesn't understand her humor
landonorris since my job isn't that hard Im taking a part time. What do we think about acting
→ yourusername I can send you an email. there an open cast call for dicks
via YouTube
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yourusername via insta stories charles_leclerc via insta stories
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yourusername via instagram
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liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,292,220 others.
yourusername her lack of media training is outrageous
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username190 girlie I'm so glad you are self aware about how iconic you are
username12 the girls who get it get it
username14 pls the caption
username280 her lack of media training is what makes y/n y/n
username189 her lack of media training is why we love her
username18 I'm tired of people saying that when it's literally you being yourself. Has no one ever seen her broadway videos?
username19 People saying that Charles can't stand her? hello read the room
username159 exactly! they forget that Charles knows she's like this and that why he loves her so much.
→ username1821 your parasocial relationship is insane
charles_leclerc via insta
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liked by landonorris, yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 1,893,356 others.
charles_leclerc on wednesday I wear pink with the girl clumsy girl I feel in love with
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yourusername love you charlie
landonorris the movie wasn't half bad
arthur_leclerc stream sexy
comment have been restricted
...
Y/n turned to face Charles with a small smile adorning her lips. He mimicked her actions as he placed his phone in  between the two of them. His hand slowly reached towards her face pushing the hair away to get a better look of her eyes. 
“You don’t mind then?” Y/n asked softly her eyes never leaving his to notice if there was any sort of discomfort. He shook his head no, not breaking eye contact. 
“What leaves me surprised is the fact that you think it would bother me. I know you already, I’m aware that sometimes people don’t get your humor but I’ve been long enough with you to understand it” He said slowly pecking your lips to calm you down. You let out a chuckle as you played with his hair. 
“Actually, I was worried that you would have to worry about me beating your ass in F1” Y/n said, throwing her head back laughing. Charles playfully rolled his eyes pushing her shoulder softly, accidentally  knocking her off the bed. 
“Shit sorry!” he quickly got off the bed helping her off “but, you don’t even have your license, so I think you should stick to broadway”
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ichigo-dream · 11 months
Text
Leon - Squish - (SFW & NSFW)
Hi everyone!
We still can't get over the fact that this man is built like that and that he put on 40 lbs of pure muscle between RE 2 and RE 4. Honestly we've spent many hours discussing his squish so have some of our fav headcanons:
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Every part of this man is rideable - thighs, biceps, throat, ab, face, doesn’t matter, any port in a storm and what a pretty, squishy port he is. 
u love gently pinching and biting his cheeks bc he still has some of his lil baby face from his rookie days 
his lap is the comfiest place to sit 
your throne 
Leon will grab you by the hips and pull you onto his plush thighs at any point 
soft and pillowy but you can feel the muscle when he flexes 
You love his little freckles that come out in the sunshine and the summertime - there’s one on the inside of his beautiful thigh scarily close to his dick and it makes him feral when you kiss or bite at it. 
To Leon, the only benefit of working for the US Government is travel perks - when flying he always flies first class, and it's the only time he can be comfortable on public transport bc he’s a unit of a man 
Any other time, he has to curl in on himself and crush his legs together to not take up more than his designated space. 
can spread his thick delicious thighs as much as he wants 
in the summertime he likes to workout outside
will do push-ups whilst shirtless 
you try not to pass out at the sight of his muscles flexing + slick with sweat 
sometimes you’ll sit on his back as he does this when he wants some extra weight 
baby boy is so strong it makes u drool 
Loves wearing shorts but gets self-conscious if he wears them in public.
Absolutely will steal your sunglasses to wear whilst he’s outside - (we couldn’t get the image of Leon shirtless in little shorts wearing heart shaped sunglasses out of our heads)
one day he wants to surprise you by wearing his old rpd uniform (cute play on all the times you would playfully call him “officer Kennedy”) but you hear him grunting in frustration from the bedroom so u go to check it out 
shit does not fit this man
not even a little 
trousers caught around his legs bc the material won’t fit over his juicy thighs + ass. You’re trying not to drool at the sight. waistband is fr about to snap 
dick bulge bc the trousers don’t fit over that either 
shirt also  doesn’t fit  - buttons are straining within an inch of their life against his broad chest, waiting to pop  
only thing that does fit is the old bulletproof vest - barely. 
“Never got to wear my summer uniform, and I didn’t want to buy a new one so… I tried to make my own but…”
baby boy is blushing in embarrassment at his failed attempt to be sexy 
but oh he has no idea 
what he’s doing to you rn 
have to pick your jaw off the floor at the sight of him 
he’s sweating a little too from the effort 
you want him to choke you out with his thighs or biceps, you’re not picky 
You tell him to turn around and you’ll try to help him pull them up at the back but this is a ruse -  you just want to see his ass jiggle as he tries to force the trousers up. 
“I’m sorry, I can't get them on..” he whines, annoyed that he can’t surprise you anymore. 
“It’s okay, pretty boy, I need you to take them off anyway”  
devouring this man like he’s a piece of cake on god 
strawberry to be precise 
When you’re fucking him, if you grab at his ass it’ll drive him crazy
You have to resist the urge to motorboat him when his bare chest is freely offered to your greedy eyes.
the juiciest tits u ever seen 
Don’t be fooled tho - tho this man is a beast, he ‘s actually a puppy on the inside. 
He absolutely adores getting to cuddle with you and lie on your chest and snooze - because he’s bigger than you he tends to worry about crushing you but you reassure him that it's okay (glory glory what a hell of a way to die). 
We could go all day (much like Leon) but we’ll stop there for now!
Comment “Bingo!” if you made it to the end, and let us know if you’d like more!
Love, 
Ichigo and Dream xoxo
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wonryllis · 4 months
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ʬʬ. ! POKER FACE ﹙ SHE'S GOT ME LIKE NOBODY ﹚
𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `2375
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prompt. wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself from list 02. part of this event by @okwonyo
JAY VER. JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER: one-sided
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"you look like a chipmunk," and i wanna kiss you so bad right now. sunghoon really wishes he could do that, grab your jaw, fingers digging into your soft puffed cheeks, and pull you against him as he smashes his lips into yours.
he's been dreaming of it for as long as he can remember. for as long as he knew he shouldn't be dreaming of that. for as long as he knew you have hated him and for as long as he has been supposed to be hating you too.
look sunghoon doesn't really have a solid reason to hate you besides the fact that you crush on his best friend (especially when he's been here all along?) but if getting to talk to you and sticking close by comes at the cost of pretending to do, then he doesn't really mind it. though it doesn't do much because everyone, from friends to professors, everyone can see how he's been waiting on the opportunity to jump you.
and you? you are the most oblivious thing there can ever be. sunghoon could be right up in your face, whispering sweet nothings and everything in between and you'd refuse to believe he feels anything but hatred for you. if not that then annoyance? because you for sure are always annoyed at him and his flirty antics.
"shut-" he's suddenly reaching forward and across the table, hands cupping your cheek, oh god he's melting you're so soft, thumb swiping against your skin to wipe off the salad dressing. he puts it into his mouth next, sucking off the sweet sauce with an irritating smirk on his face,"so cute," a look of lure in his hooded eyes staring at you,"eat slowly baby no one's gonna take your foo-,"
"m nat yiur baby!" you interrupt immediately, speaking through the stuffed salad in your cheeks, eyes shifting back and forth to heeseung sitting beside him. praying he wouldn't misunderstand even though your insanely fast beating heart clearly knows who it's beating for.
"come on babies don't speak with full mouth, no matter how cute you look," i'm gonna die if you don't stop right now sunghoon feels like he'll combust any moment, blow his cover and mess everything up. he doesn't give a shit that your crush aka his friend, is sitting right next to him, if anything he's doing it in front of him on purpose even though he knows the boy has got no feelings for you. he has just got something for the way your face scrunches adorably when you get annoyed, and how your oh so kissable lips turn into an angry pout that does nothing to show your anger but tempt him even more.
"ou knww wat m levnig," grabbing your plate with you, you give heeseung a tight lipped cheery little smile and two short kicks under the table to sunghoon before leaving the area.
fuck park sunghoon and fuck his hotness and fuck how he gets to you every single time. your heartbeat keeps on getting higher and skipping beats with each step you take, repeatedly hearing his words in your head again and again. even more so when you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you, those very familiar clicking of his chelsea dress shoes that suit him devilishly well.
"enjoy," sunghoon leaves the table after you, patting his friend's back in a quick apology and rushing away.
"yo chipmunk cheeks! wait up for me!"
"get away!"
just fucking kiss already. lee heeseung has had it enough already. he can't stand third wheeling anymore, it's making him sick. he needs to get you two into seven minutes in heaven or something. just anything to end whatever this is you have going on with him stuck in between.
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"whatcha doin baby chicks?" sunghoon's annoying ass voice has you looking up from your book, eyes following him as he drags out the chair beside yours and plops himself down smugly. he's alone. he's alone alone.
"where's heeseung?" you ask, remembering how he promised he'd bring along the boy for a study date. the sole reason you agreed to meet him in the library.
"somewhere between those shelves," sunghoon fingers point towards the rows behind your table,"probably getting you know what," he suggests, resting his head on his hands, staring at you trying to find your guy. "liar, he's not like you," you retort and it has sunghoon grinning from ear to ear,"hm, what do you think i am like?" there's a hint of amusement and a tone of teasing in his voice, it makes it hard for you to conceal your nervousness. so many times of it happening yet you still can't control the fluttering butterflies and sparks in your stomach. are you sure you're crushing on the right person? well heeseung is nice he helps you with notes from missed classes and most importantly doesn't taunt you for being second.
"a predator," nevertheless trying to outwardly stand your ground is something you have learned to do when it comes to him. do not show how weak he gets you. do not let him have the upper hand. that's been your motto since day one.
you almost feel your heart jumping out of your chest when he bends to grab the seat of your chair and pulls you closer, leaning so close to your face, you feel his breath hit your lips with every exhale,"so you must be my pretty little prey?" if you move just an inch forward you'd end up smearing your cherry gloss on his chapped lips, feeling hyper aware of every little movement from the touch of his fingers near the hem of your skirt to the little shifting you do in your seat. fidgeting and constant staring at each other's lips. the faint hovering of his palm on your thighs, the other lingering over hand resting on the table, like a cage in between,"you're gettin-"
"guys i finally found it!" you're snapped out of it when heeseung slams a pile of books on the table, hands flapping up to slap against sunghoon's chest and push him away with all the might you got.
it takes you a few minutes to settle yourself down into calm, ignoring the way sunghoon complains about being harshly shoved for apparently no reason. and smiling at heeseung as he explains how he'd been trying to look for some books on zoology which somehow happened to always be borrowed out, that is until today. you take a second look at the books he shows, hitting an embarassing realization, eyes switching between the two guys.
"wait- you were looking for these books over there?" pointing to the same rows sunghoon did initially.
"what else were you thinking in that tiny head of yours, chipmunk?" sunghoon wiggles his brows suggestively knowing exactly what you were thinking of, enjoying the way you come to the horrific realization of how you both were just flirting, more specifically of what you implied and what you didn't deny.
"nothing, shut up and do your own work!" a poor attempt at brushing it off but he'll let it go since you aren't really alone right now. a lovesick grin, eyes trained on you the entire time. only heeseung notices and once again wonders of when you'll knock it off.
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"miss second place at a frat party? that's new," if there's hell, yours is definitely tied to sunghoon, your personal lucifer on guard. amidst a roaring crowd of people he still manages to find you and get on your nervous in a matter of seconds. time and again he's proven to be the bane of your existence.
"shouldn't that go for you, mr first place? don't you want to keep it?" against the counter on the far end of the kitchen, he has you trapped.
"keeping you? i think i already have it," his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers in a low voice, pulling away immediately to leave you wanting for more. "no i-" you shutter for the first time in front of him, shit.
"i meant the last assignment, i scored more than you," you sound much softer and tinier than you would have ever liked to, but your brain's in such a mess you can't think straight.
"you're so studious it's cute but chipmunk i couldn't give a shit about being second place to you, you can take my place any time you like," he gets so much closer again you start panicking, if you don't get out of here right now, losing all your pride and prudence to him wouldn't be impossible anymore.
pushing him away slightly you hope he'd give way to you,"i'm gonna go find heeseung," adding all the more reason to it. "let me help you with that," but he's adamant on not leaving you alone today. six months of watching you have a crush on his best friend and he's had enough.
dragging you out to the living room, he brings you to the couch on the other end of where heeseung stands surrounded by his group of friends. and sitting down on it, is immediately pulling you onto his lap, hands going around the waist to hold you close,"let's make him jealous," his lips brush against yours, getting a sweet taste of your lipgloss. just like how he's always imagined.
"kiss me,"
and heeseung sighs from across the room. fucking finally.
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taglist. ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly
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monamipencil · 2 months
Text
jealous rival! seungcheol
genre; nsfw, mdni <3 | a/n; this man is made for the enemies to lovers trope. praying for this to not flop. part 2 !
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rival! seungcheol who absolutely hates your guts. he scoffs every time you counter him in class and the way you eye him with a cocky smile if you prove him wrong or win the favour of the lecturer. he also hates the fact that you get his dick hard and twitching in need.
rival! seungcheol who wants to bend you over and fuck you into oblivion. especially the times when your little, cocky side eyes to each other turn into full on eye-fucking each other. his heart swells with pride when you subtly check him out and look away when you get caught.
rival! seungcheol who's had enough of whatever the fuck is going on between you two. in an attempt to "help you be friends with each other," you're assigned as his project partner. and so, fuck-me eyes turns into subtle touches and pleasantly suffocating proximity.
seungcheol's breath hitches when you press your breasts against his bicep, leaning in to help him with something he could not give less fucks about right now. he watches as you back away, flashing him a condescending smile. "see? it's that easy." his cock throbs under his jeans, and god, would he love to bend you over the library table and fuck your brains out.
but he doesn't. seungcheol hates losing. he won't be the one to break first. he won't be the one to lose in this little game with you. he will make you break and have you on your knees.
rival! seungcheol who realises that he has met his match as he watches you grind on one of your classmates in a frat party. you continue your debauchery, knowing that he's staring. you'd usually give in, especially for guys like seungcheol, born with all that good package. but, the power that surges through your veins on getting guys on their knees is unmatched.
you yelp when a hand roughly pulls you off that guy, dragging you through the crowd. you realise that it's seungcheol as the crowds dilutes, and he's fucking mad. the vein bulging on his neck and the look on his face is more than a giveaway to that fact. you can't find it in yourself to pull away and let him do as he pleases.
jealous rival! seungcheol who enters a room, slamming it shut and pinning you to the door. he doesn't waste any time, burying his nose into your neck, smelling your scent and leaving wet kisses on your collarbone. "tell me you don't want this and i'll stop." his voice is low but sure. you gasp when his hands find your ass, kneading the flesh and he continues leaving marks on your skin.
he stops with a sigh when you don't respond and moves away. his apology is cut short when you switch places with him, now pining him to the door. you brush your lips against his and smirk as he follows your lips when you pull away. his scoff is replaced by a low moan when you grab his cock and squeeze the tip through his pants.
your triumph is cut short when he pins you again but this time with your face to the door. he grinds against your ass and you moan in unison at the feeling. but it isn't long before you're trying to overpower him. well, this is going to be a long night.
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tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia
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angelshimaa · 6 months
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━━ [ 𝟒:𝟐𝟗 ] ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
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✧ cw :: fem!reader (bkg calls reader 'my girl' once), fluff, bkg calls you ‘babe’ once, hinted at that denki has a crush on you, you just wanna braid his hair
✧ a/n :: finally some fluff 🤭 i actually really liked writing this one !!
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“your hair is actually a curse.”
your words come out a little above a whisper, absent-minded as you play with his hair, his head resting in your lap. granted, the blond hair is softer than it looks, but its uneven spikes barely allowed for any diversity in hairstyles.
“like, what do you mean i can't braid it?” this isn't the first time this exasperated complaint is voiced and you hear bakugou snort, the corners of his lips tilting upwards in a half-grin.
“thank god, i’d look like shit with braids.” you try to envision them on him, but the fact that his face is upside down doesn’t help at all. what you do see is the light from the warm day peaking through the thin curtains to kiss his face, and you're reminded of how unnecessarily pretty your boyfriend is.
“who said you don't already look like shit?” you can't help it, and when he looks up at you, eyebrows raised as if you both know better, you grin and raise yours back— as if to suggest that maybe he doesn't.
“don’t think you'd be here if i did, babe.” his grin looks boyish and you can't understand why he prefers contorting his features into a grimace.
it's your turn to snort, fingers sectioning some of his choppy bangs off to as to fiddle around with them specifically. “maybe i’m into guys who look like shit, katsuki. ever think about that?”
“if you were, you would be in dunceface’s room right now, not mine.” it's too quick of a response to not have been thought of before, and you flick the top of his forehead. he's done it to you many times before, and you understand why— it was a little fun.
“kaminari is actually really nice, katsu, leave him be.”
bakugou rolls his eyes— of course you'd think he's nice. “he’s even better when he's not hitting on my girl— he should try that sometime.” you chuckle at his grumbling, eyebrows knitted together to frame his eyes. he's cute when he's harmlessly jealous.
“even if he was— i fear my heart is already taken.” you fake a look of sorrow. “a shame, really.”
katsuki's eyes gleam in daylight as he scoffs. “‘a shame’ my ass— you're so in love with me it makes you look stupid.”
he's right, the both of you know he is. neither of you would have it any other way.
“you say that as if you don't kiss the ground i walk on, katsu.” your smile is softer and it sends a pang to his heart.
“and you deserve every kiss.” it's a cheesy line, one a past him would likely cringe at, but he finds no shame in making his devotion to you well known.
you dip your head down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning. the heart eyes he gives you when you're that close has the butterflies resting in your stomach kick up. “that’s what i thought, katsuki. now... have you ever thought about straightening your hair?”
you laugh at the horror that crosses over his face, scowl settling in his face as if to tell you to not even think about it— it doesn't matter how badly you want to braid it.
katsuki's whipped. he knows from the way he thinks you laugh like a summer afternoon, warm and excited, but even he had his limits.
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
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taglist (fill in this form to join!) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @pasteldaze @afairywithacrown @moonshuul @https-spacekay @k0z3me
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capslocked · 7 months
Text
KINKVEMBER DAY: 6
[prompt: blowjob]
male reader x hyeju
12k words
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“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”
"Like what?" you ask.
"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."
You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."
“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"
"Utterly deranged."
"So wild."
-
The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.
No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.
It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.
"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."
You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."
She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."
"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"
"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"
You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."
"Fucking tell me about it."
You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.
"Want me to get you off?"
And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.
Hyeju jerks up, surprised.
"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"
The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.
“You’re absolutely nuts.”
You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.
Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.
"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.
"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.
“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.
And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.
"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."
Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.
"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.
She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"
"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."
Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.
"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."
You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.
She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."
The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.
"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."
You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.
"Don't laugh."
"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”
She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.
"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.
You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.
"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.
"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.
She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.
“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"
The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.
"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.
-
It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.
And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 
A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.
So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.
"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.
-
It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.
"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.
"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 
It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.
Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.
Or,
Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.
That's what friends are for, probably.
Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)
The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.
So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.
"You have a problem."
"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."
She waggles her eyebrows.
You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."
("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.
"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."
You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."
She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.
"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.
"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")
-
The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.
She turns toward you, quiet.
You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.
"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"
Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.
"Oh, no."
She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."
Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.
Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.
She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."
"Because."
You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.
-
You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.
"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."
"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.
She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."
She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.
"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."
Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.
And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.
"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."
When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.
(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)
"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."
You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."
-
New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.
Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.
Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.
"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.
"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.
Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.
"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"
"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."
She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.
 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 
But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:
"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"
And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -
"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"
"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.
There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.
"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."
-
The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)
Or just:
11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.
11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.
"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.
"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"
"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."
Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."
"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.
"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.
She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.
"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"
"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."
"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.
"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.
"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.
You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.
"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."
"I guess, see you soon?"
"In a bit."
(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)
-
You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.
And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.
You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -
- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.
So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.
Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"
She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.
"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."
Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."
"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.
“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”
"Like what?" you ask.
"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."
You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."
“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"
"Utterly deranged."
"So wild."
When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.
There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.
But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.
And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.
"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."
You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"
"It's no consequence, honestly."
You squint.
"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:
"Want me to get you off?"
She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?
Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.
"Alright," is the response you let out.
And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.
"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"
"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."
Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.
"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.
"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.
"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.
And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.
"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."
"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.
"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."
Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."
And she moves then, toward the bed.
So:
No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.
"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.
And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.
These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.
"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"
You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.
"- that face."
"Don't, fucking tease me-"
The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.
Wet and filthy in all the right ways.
Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.
"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"
“Which is?”
She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"
You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -
That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -
“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”
You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?
But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.
You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.
And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.
Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.
"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -
She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.
"Can you believe what's going on down here?"
"God, can you -"
"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."
"Hyeju, shit, come on -"
She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.
Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 
“Mmhm,” she hums.
It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 
"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"
You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.
"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"
Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.
Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 
And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.
"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 
Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.
"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"
Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.
And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.
You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.
"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.
But regardless:
It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -
"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"
Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -
Okay, fuck.
She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.
"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.
Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."
Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.
It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."
See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -
Except,
Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.
"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."
"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."
"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."
"Or."
"Or?"
Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -
"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"
You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"
"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.
And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.
Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.
"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -
"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.
Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."
"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.
Sloppy, slimy-wet.
She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 
"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"
She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.
But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.
You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."
"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.
You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.
"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.
She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -
She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."
"You're ridiculous -"
She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.
There is spit fucking everywhere.
And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."
"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."
"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?
"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"
"Honestly."
"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"
"Fuck-"
"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."
Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.
There's nothing like it.
You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.
A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.
There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.
But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:
That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -
"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"
But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.
Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.
But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -
She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.
You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.
"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"
When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -
Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.
"Jesus, Hyeju-"
The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.
"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.
She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"
"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.
"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."
"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-
But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.
"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.
"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."
"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"
"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."
Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -
"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."
"Is that what we're doing?"
Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."
-
(There's got so much on her mind. 
The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.
Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.
She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.
"Fucking. God, please-"
There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-
Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:
"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")
-
“And I am… Ironman.”
Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.
The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -
Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.
You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.
There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.
As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.
"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"
She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."
And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.
Maybe it just gave you more than enough.
1K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 8 months
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honey, honey [mamma mia part three] | formula one social media au
drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & jenson button
mamma mia | no more ace to play | masterlist | tips
yourusername
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liked by jensonbutton, charles_leclerc and 1,098,455 others
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel & jensonbutton
yourusername: little chick is finally showing and these old men are still obsessed with cars even though i'm RIGHT THERE !!
view all comments
user1: oh to be the one receiving those photos of fernando
user2: yeah yeah they're having a kid BUT the sheer amount of seb + fernando + jenson content we're gonna get
fernandoalo_oficial: so you go to goodwood with them but don't come to my race :(
yourusername: babe they outnumbered you but we'll be there in canada !!
jensonbutton: sorry some of us didn't choose to be a fossil in an f1 car. just hurry up and retire
yourusername: woah woah, let nando have his lil hobby
fernandoalo_oficial: y/n tell him he can't call me old
yourusername: jenson, fernando isn't a fossil, you know we prefer the term precious artefact, please apologise
jensonbutton: i'm sorry???
user3: omg this is going so fast
danielricciardo: ahhhh y/n is showing !! this is so exciting
sebastianvettel: chickie is the size of a lemon i think
danielricciardo: and you'll all be in canada?
yourusername: yes! i can't wait to meet all of you
danielricciardo: *can't wait to meet chickie's god father
fernandoalo_oficial: daniel you know we haven't decided that yet
jensonbutton: also i've partied with you, why do you think i'd trust you with my kid?
danielricciardo: ummm every child is entitled to a fun uncle ??
user4: i am once again stating how fucking obsessed i am with this set up
yourusername
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liked by mickschumacher, jensonbutton and 1,298,450 others
yourusername: my personal favourite snippets of the god father applications. not sure it really made me trust any of them any more than before.
view all comments
user5: i was not expecting to actually see the applications but they defo didn't disappoint
maxverstappen1: ummmmm @charles_leclerc what do you mean? you are the instigator YOU pushed me into that puddle
charles_leclerc: it's okay max get it out (@sebastianvettel @fernandoalo_oficial @jensonbutton see how i am able to de- escalate this situation)
maxverstappen1: try and de-escalate this foot up your literal ass
charles_leclerc: i will put you in time out (i.e. watch your ass going into turn one)
yourusername: you guys realise this is not helping the application right?
maxverstappen1: nuh uh who wouldn't want a world champion as a god father
charles_leclerc: low blow verstappen
yourusername: girlies chickie has dads with seven championships between them so i really don't think she'll be impressed by two
user6: i'm sorry but roscoe hamilton as the reference is killing me
user7: full government name and everything
sebastianvettel: you guys laughed at me but this has amused me to no end
yourusername: you're a genius and i love you for this
user8: L BOMB?
jensonbutton: i take back calling the idea dumb, you were right :(
sebastianvettel: oh how the tables have turned
fernandoalo_oficial: can we all just agree that we never thought those dumbasses would actually fill one in?
yourusername: it makes me even more excited to meet them
jensonbutton: trust me the charm wears off real quick
user9: the way kimi wrote nothing and will probably end up being the god father anyway
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jensonbutton
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, alexalbon and 832,087 others
tagged: yourusername
jensonbutton: best thing about pregnancy cravings is i have an excuse to use seb's insane car collection and brush up on my french
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user13: on dad duty with the dad angle he's ready
user14: honestly my heart is so warm over the fact that they've all embraced the situation
user15: girl we saw jenson and nando at mclaren together ... it's been coming
user16: oh and that one podium with jenson and seb they just need a girl they all liked to get their shit together and that's the most them thing ever
sebastianvettel: a man goes to one meeting and suddenly julie is being taken on grocery runs
jensonbutton: y/n wanted bagels so ?
sebastianvettel: i know we're having an actual kid but be careful with my mechanical kids as well
jensonbutton: do you forget i'm literally a driver too honey
yourusername: thanks for the bagel baby bagel dates 4 ever
fernandoalo_oficial: cream cheese and salmon WITHOUT ME?
yourusername: we put it in the fridge for when you get home :(
fernandoalo_oficial: awwwww really ???
yourusername: we love you (but also you can't eat soft cheese or raw fish while pregnant)
fernandoalo_oficial: it's the thought that counts?
user17: god this looks like domestic bliss, how does one come about three men to have a kid with in the swiss mountains?
yourusername: honestly i'm so lucky
sebastianvettel: we're luckier
jensonbutton: we're luckier
fernandoalo_oficial: we're luckier
yourusername: fucking hormones are making me ball my eyes out
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f1
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liked by estebanocon, yourusername and 1,239,086 others
f1: category is ... baby presents !! y/n y/ln made her paddock debut with sebastian vettel and jenson button to support fernando alonso 💚
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user21: omg seb in his aston martin gear to support nando
user22: imagine showing this to someone in 2010 i think they would have a heart attack
danielricciardo: i had the best present ever god father is in the bag
charles_leclerc: i read your application there's no way, plus seb loves ferrari so my gift will be the best
mickschumacher: lets be real my application was the best
estebanocon: eh i think kimi's was the best
mickschumacher: he literally wrote nothing ????
estebanocon: and yet he outdid all of yall... embarrassing for some
user23: i feel like this fight to be god father is gonna end with a fist fight in the parking lot
yourusername: and i'll be there with my popcorn
sebastianvettel: maybe let's not encourage fighting
yourusername: why not, these squabbles over being in charge if all FOUR of chickie's parents die are the most entertaining thing in the world to me
jensonbutton: lets halt it on the fighting and dying talk okay (i will also be front row to watch these morons fight)
maxverstappen1: if it's a fist fight clear win for me imo
fernandoalo_oficial: how did we get here (i will referee)
danielricciardo: respectfully maxy, i will beat your ass
maxverstappen1: NUH UH
kimiraikkonen: i'm winning no question
sebastianvettel: now that i agree with
yourusername: i thought you were against fighting?
sebastianvettel: i guess it would be kind of funny (especially because any physical violence is an immediate red flag)
user24: okay but can someone actually let us know who got what cause i know these men probably got the dumbest shit that can never actually be used by a child
user25: there's a thread on twitter!
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fernandoalo_oficial
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 934,045 others
fernandoalo_oficial: old man still got it 👍 thank you to the team for your help, needed to impress y/n with my day job x
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user27: impending fatherhood got nando looking like he can make it an eight championship house
sebastianvettel: @yourusername he's good but i was better
jensonbutton: @yourusername and i was even better x
fernandoalo_oficial: ummm this is literally my post about MY podium?
sebastianvettel: i would've won but that's just me 😬
fernandoalo_oficial: 2013 called and it wants your attitude back 🤨
jensonbutton: it's been ten years guys... (i would've also won)
sebastianvettel: well my trophy cabinet is the fullest so chickie will know who was the best by that :)
yourusername: the sexual tension is killing me, how did yall not shag back in 2010?
jensonbutton: too busy winning and being sluts elsewhere x
maxverstappen1: yall claim you would've won? yall wouldn't get close to me sorry not sorry
sebastianvettel: oh look who's out of the running for god father
maxverstappen1: NO I TAKE IT BACK
yourusername: don't worry maxy, he's joking the bee keeping suit went down VERY WELL
charles_leclerc: he's such a cheat i didn't even know they existed :(
maxverstappen1: you snooze you loose
yourusername: @charles_leclerc i'm craving pasta, i heard it's good in the ferrari hospitality
charles_leclerc: on it 🫡
fernandoalo_oficial: so is no one going to congratulate me?
yourusername: CONGRATS BUB! turns out you ARE great at your day job (and very sexy drenched in champagne)
sebastianvettel: i agree
jensonbutton: i agree
yourusername: once again how did yall make it through the 2010s
user28: i'm trying not to be weird about this but i know their sex life must be crazy
yourusername
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liked by jensonbutton, danielricciardo and 1,403,677 others
tagged: fernandoalo_oficial
yourusername: baby's first f1 weekend and daddy nando did not disappoint (neither did the grid, yall are so generous thank you)
view all comments
user29: i am so unwell this is all so cute i might die
fernandoalo_oficial: i would get any shit box on the podium for you guys
yourusername: NO BRAKES! NO TYRES! OUT OF THE POINTS!
jensonbutton: babe that was over five years ago...
yourusername: ummmm i'm doing my research on your careers? i'd never watched f1 i needed to catch up
sebastianvettel: who showed you this?
yourusername: oscar and lando said they'd give me a quick fire history lesson
fernandoalo_oficial: @oscarpiastri @landonorris i've won 32 races and you show y/n that?
landonorris: funny?
oscarpiastri: we also showed her multi 21, sorry not sorry seb
sebastianvettel: not my four championships?
oscarpiastri: justice for my manager
user30: obsessed with how y/n can watch old races and most of the time one of her bfs win 😭
alexalbon: so great to finally meet you! the albon pets hope it's a girl!
yourusername: don't tell them i told you this but me too
jensonbutton: we can literally all see this?
yourusername: you guys would be such girl dads lets be real
user31: potential girl dad seb, jenson and fernando DO NOT THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME
user32: do NOT let seb name them he's already used all of the good bond girl names
sebastianvettel: i'll have you know kinky kylie is a top tier name
yourusername: for a car. do not suggest any names affiliated with any spy films
sebastianvettel
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liked by astonmartinf1, mickschumacher and 1,459,832 others
tagged: yourusername, jensonbutton & fernandoalo_oficial
sebastianvettel: thought i'd have a quiet life after retirement, i thought wrong
view all comments
user33: the BEAR ???
user34: what if i die so i can be reincarnated as the f1 baby
jensonbutton: always arguing over who is the best driver but yet i am always designated driver ... makes you think
sebastianvettel: you're the one who pulls the "i'm the oldest" card ... makes you think
fernandoalo_oficial: only one of us is still racing ... makes you think
yourusername: someone is waiting to go to bed but some people are arguing in the comment section ... makes you think
user35: this kid is going to have the most entertaining childhood ever...
yourusername: @fernandoalo_oficial retire so you can join the crochet club
fernandoalo_oficial: no can do i need to bring home the bacon (and beat lewis)
lewishamilton: why am i catching strays? can i join the crochet club instead of fernando?
yourusername: it's strictly bring your own yarn and real housewives only
lewishamilton: make it beverly hills and i'm there
fernandoalo_oficial: ummmmm ??? @mercedesamgf1 ur driver is retiring you heard it hear first
yourusername: you guys gonna beef over crochet as well?
fernandoalo_oficial: yes.
lewishamilton: yes.
jensonbutton: okay nando you're the only one we're waiting for, we're debating god fathers
fernandoalo_oficial: one sec my pr team called me, turns out you can't make up a rumour that lewis hamilton is retiring, who knew?
maxverstappen1: VOTE FOR ME PLEASE
charles_leclerc: you've won enough this season, let me have this one
mickschumacher: i'll bring breakfast in the morning for three votes at least
yourusername: do NOT try and bribe the jury.
note: PART THREE! okay so it's finally here and i hope it's what you guys were looking for... the race for god father is heating up and the name arguments are only just starting... i am enjoying the pregnancy content but i'm excited for baby time !!!
taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @minkyungseokie @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch @imagandom @mypage-myfandoms @mehrmonga @asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt @multilovebot @lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn @nothingfuninthislife @rileynicol3 @kodzuvk @mochimommy2002 @fluffyspaceprincess @roseseraj @black-swan-blog27 @nyrasslut @justdreamersdream @asfaraslifegets @why4anne @ineffableperson @leilanixx @lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog @rafaaoli @champomiel @sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro
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Astarion Very Happy Ending
So full disclosure, my Tav was a Selunite, and I can't stop thinking well if Bhaal can have a mortal chosen one, why can't Selune?
Also, spoiler warning, stop reading here if you don't want, but like damn girl I freaking turn a Shar priestess away from her god back to you, free a man from his devil's contact, high-key save the world, kill bhaals chocen, convince my vampiric lover to not sacrifice thousands of people, stop an entire goblin army from murdering Tieflings and druids alike, and literally free your daughter. A reward is in order!
This is that reward:
Astarion was slowly getting used to living in the shadows again, as loathe as he was to admit it. It was quite the transition, despite the fact that his time in the sun had amounted to less than a year. But what a lovely year it was. Nearly a perfect one in comparison to the rest of his life. And the promise of more of the same was a suitable balm to being cursed back into the darkness.
It was difficult, but with the love of his life by his side it was more than tolerable. Borderline beautiful in fact, to be able to live his life so freely despite the infuriating complications.
The money also certainly helped.
That was one thing Astarion always had over his brothers and sisters, his fantasies of a better life had always surrounded around Cazador's murder. Not his approval. He may have been completely unaware of the horrifying dungeon beneath their feet, but he did know where the deed to his estate and other properties were kept. And now had enough connections with the higher up's of Baldur's gate for some frankly exquisite forgeries. It had been a particularly satisfying feeling to sell all of his former master's possessions off, even more so when it came to the land. Almost like he was tearing apart his legacy and handing it off to the highest bitter, piece by piece.
Though, being there with you to find and settle in your own little corner of paradise was an even better feeling. Maybe it didn't quite reach his past dreams of grandeur, but it turned out settling in a quaint and poorly lit townhouse in the upper city was more than enough for him to be satisfied.
It was a good charming life, one that Astarion was sure he didn't deserve. But that certainly wasn't going to stop him from enjoying it. Though as much as he adored where he ended up, he'd be lying if he said it was perfect.
No, perfect would have been finding a way for him to ascend without becoming a monster, living in a world where he could be with you fully, completely, out in the sun like the kind of lover you deserved. It made him feel... startlingly inadequate. Everything you did had to be in accordance to his schedule. His lack of capabilities. And just because you always insisted it didn't matter didn't fix the feeling of inadequacy. He hated it, hated the fact that there were so many hours of the day that you couldn't share. He didn't regret his choice, not for a moment, but that didn't mean he was fully satisfied with the consequences.
But in his own defense, he did make up for it in other ways. Mildly frustrating and draining ways, if not a bit rewarding. It had been his own fault, falling so utterly and completely for such a goody two-shoes. A zealot to Selune, as fierce as she was compassionate, always trying to do what was fair and just. Always dragging Astarion on for the ride of her cleric duties.
But he couldn't blame you for all of his new do-gooder ways. Not when he was nearly the leader of a bizarre cult of repentant vampire spawn.
It was just the slightest bit exhausting to so often be playing the part of their heroic leader, fighting all of his murderous instincts to work for a better future for himself and the brethren he had personally damned. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get any satisfaction from it. It felt... good to teach them new ways to live. To give them the chance at the beautiful life he had managed to secure for himself.
He wouldn't do it forever, just until he was confident enough to be sure that his departure wouldn't lead to a massacre on either side. Then the two of you would be off to explore the lands, working to do your goddesses work with just a touch of hedonistic activities on the way.
Astarion was looking forward to it. He hadn't done all that work to be selfless forever. No, he was going to be forced to insist on a few years of having you all to himself, with only the occasional bits of volunteer work for the temple as interruption. Then the two of you could go back to galivanting about the lands being local heroes. But he had earned an extended vacation.
One that, luckily, he hadn't had to fight you on too much. That was just one other thing he loved about you, your complete understanding that Astarion would always be a little selfish, especially when it came to you. The one person who had ever really been his, who loved him, who understood him, who believed in him. Could he be blamed for wanting to have you all to himself?
And admittedly, he did have you more often then not. Even if on occasion he did have to share with your beloved goddess.
Astarion sighed as he watched you pray in the moonlight, completely absorbed in your quiet, mystical chants. Despite his distaste for the length of your prayer sessions, Astarion did like seeing your more ritualistic side. Just... maybe not for the morally correct reasons.
He was well aware that being so involved with a vampire was clearly against your religious doctrine. But it didn't matter. You still choose him, despite how the knowledge nearly made you an outcast amongst your own kind. But he mattered more than your reputation, more than the lessons you had been taught your entire life regarding love and evil.
You still had your faith, but you never let it shake the faith you had in him, something that he valued more than he could ever express. It was perhaps a sick thought, but it also made him feel exceedingly powerful, to know the true extent of your feelings. Even more connected. It was almost... like he was defiling you, corrupting a beautiful flower to turn away from the sun to something even brighter. A love that Astarion doubted most could ever hope to feel.
Perhaps that was not the best outlook on your religion, but oh well. He'd keep those thoughts to himself. What you didn't know wouldn't kill you. Besides... if anyone had been corrupted it was him, plagued with a new sense of loyalty and gods, justice. All from the beautifully strange woman kneeling in the moonlight.
Though, you sure were taking awhile tonight. Nearly twice as long as your usual nightly prayer. He hated to interrupt your worship but this was starting to cut into his time a bit here.
"My dear," Astarion called out, swinging his legs over your shared bed to stand, "Don't you think that you've been kneeling there for a touch too long?"
But you didn't respond, still muttering under your breath, even faster than before.
Astarion narrowed his eyes as he walked closer towards you, confused by your lack of response, "Darling-Tav?"
Astarion stopped, eyes wide as he got a solid look at your first. Your eyes were wide open, body rim rod straight as your irises glowed a vibrant blue light.
What in the nine hells was happening? Astarion kneeled next to you, his heart in his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Tav, love, can you hear me? What is this?"
You didn't answer, you didn't even acknowledge his presence. But you did start floating in the god damn air. Astarion stared, helpless as he watched you levitate, words that he didn't understand spilling from your lips.
Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. You fell unceremoniously to the floor. Astarion scrambled towards you, his heart in his throat as you started to come to. He settled your head in his lap, his hands shaking as he touched your face, lost on what he should be doing.
You blinked your eyes open slowly, that angelic glow still radiating from your irises. But you didn't look frightened, more... excited.
You grinned up at him, your voice slightly cracking when you murmured, "We've been blessed."
Astarion stared at you, brow furrowed. He was happy you were alive and speaking but...
"That's lovely?" Astarion tried, "But severely lacking in terms of an explanation. Are you okay?"
You nodded eagerly, suddenly sitting up with an unexpected amount of energy, "I'll explain later, we don't have much time."
What was it that compelled you religious types to be so cryptic? But you didn't give him anytime to question. Instead you wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your lips together, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.
He wrapped strong arms around your back, pulling you in closer, always helpless but to return your affection. But something about this was different. He could feel it, holy magic spreading through him through your lips, down throughout his veins, changing something inside of him. It wasn't unpleasant per say, but it certainly was startling. Startling enough for him to almost push you away, if it wasn't for the fact that he trusted you with everything inside of himself.
Neither of you pulled away until the blue fire in your eyes had died out, and Astarion was left with the intense sensation that something had changed, irrevocably inside of him.
You stared at each other, Astarion in confusion while you looked nothing short of gleeful, "Do you feel it?"
He felt... strange. A warmth still spreading through him that was settling. Astarion raised a brow at you, exceedingly impatient when he asked, "First, how about you explain to me what in the hells that was?"
But you didn't answer. Instead you stood with an adorable hop, lending a hand out to help him up, "Do you trust me?"
Astarion almost rolled his eyes as he took your hand, annoyed that he fell for someone that had just as much of a flair for the dramatic as he did, "You know I do."
You helped him to his feet before you started to mumble again, a startlingly familiar incantation seeping from your lips. It was the spell for daylight, the very same that you had used to help defeat Cazador. The kind that could now kill Astarion in mere moments.
He was too shocked at your audacity to even protest, believing for a split, terrifying second that he was about to die a fiery death. Sunlight suddenly filled the room, bright enough for Astarion to tightly shut his eyes.
Then...nothing. No burning, no pain, nothing but the sounds of you both breathing.
That didn't-how was he-what did you just do?
Astarion stared at you, absolutely flabbergasted with his mouth hanging open, staring at the borrowed daylight like a simpleton, "But how?"
You were still grinning ear to ear, looking happier than Astarion had ever seen you before. You grasped his hands in yours, your smile gentle as you explained, "I told you. We were blessed. Our Lady of Silver gave me one gift, and this is what I choose."
If sunlight wasn't already staring him in the face, Astarion would never believe it. But here he was, alive and standing under it's warmth. A gift from a goddess, spent on him of all creatures.
"It can't fix everything," You clarified with the slightest frown, "But it can fix this."
He could feel the truth in your words. He was still... wrong. A creature born of something awful, doomed to eternity and a life of bloodlust. But part of that wrongness had been culled, curling up and dying from Selune's holy magic, from your enduring love.
It was a dream he never thought possible. One that he had accepted never having. But here he was, here you were, continuing to give him the impossible.
It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Astarion reached up, cupping your face before confessing the truth he couldn't quell.
"I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice hoarse, "I'll never deserve you. Words can't express my thanks. You have given me everything, while I have nothing but myself to give in return. But it's always yours. Everything inside of me."
He meant every word, he always would. Until his last breath.
You shook your head, gentling cooing at him, "This is a time for celebration my love, not for doubt. You've earned this."
He hadn't. And he doubted you'd ever be able to convince him he had. But he'd still take it. Gladly.
"I love you," Astarion murmured, helpless to say anything else. He pressed his lips against yours, the gravity of his new life just starting to settle in his mind.
He was free, as free as he could ever hope for. You had achieved what Cazador could not, all without a hint of malice or horrifying sacrifice. But through kindness, love, and perseverance. You had already freed him once from his own mental shackles, his last remaining ties to the tyrant that made him.
And now you've done it again, saving him from at least a portion of the taint on his soul.
It was beautiful, wonderful, and Astarion would never waste a moment of it.
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