#I wish that were hyperbole
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Send me 🎶 and I'll arrange a playlist of 3-5 songs for our muses' relationship! | @hellsmayflower
Do You Want the Truth Or Something Beautiful? by Paloma Faith
The prophet took my hand on All Soul's Day He preached the value of deception Changing shadows by a shape-shifter's rules Tales are never just for fools The court of conscience came before me Presented me with a heavenly angel You took my hand and asked me, truth aside To his questions I replied
2. Walk by Kyla La Grange
Oh love is a pawnbroker making a steal You'll trade in your assets for something to feel And when you have spent all of your passion and pride You'll come back for more and he'll help you decide
3. King of Anything by Sara Bareilles
Keep drinking coffee, stare me down across the table While I look outside So many things I'd say if only I were able But I just keep quiet and count the cars that pass by You've got opinions, man We're all entitled to 'em, but I never asked So let me thank you for your time And try not to waste anymore of mine And get out of here fast
4. Heroes & Thieves by Vanessa Carlton
Well, disaster it strikes on a daily basis I'm looking for wisdom in all the wrong places But still want to laugh in disappointed faces You can't help me Blinded by these Heroes and Thieves at my door I can't seem to tell them apart anymore
5. Bring On the Wonder by Susan Enan
Can't see the stars anymore living here Let's go to the hills where the outlines are clear Bring on the wonder, bring on the song I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long
#Approximately 1000 songs later!#and I have the longer (16 song) list#now to shorten it#I wish that were hyperbole#I basically just speed ran my Spotify#last extra song is Ugly Truth by Lauren Aquilina#also The Queen and the Soldier by Suzanne Vega#which was originally the first song on this playlist#but I think it works better as a standalone#than with the other songs#I hope you like it!!!#hellsmayflower#*soundtrack (music)#*roll camera (meme responses)
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6x01
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So, he HAS thought about this.
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6x21
The only way for them not to be in danger, logically, is if the two of them not viscerally attached to Dean's head/memories. So, you'd think he'd have asked Cas to remove them from his own memories, too.
(And even that might not be fool-proof.)
But that's clearly not the case because...
#spn 6x01#spn 6x21#of course dean cares#but the implication of this... isn't great#he's either being (a) stupid in the midst of his own angst or he realizes that (b) he CARES but not at a level that requires...#it's painful either way#i do wish lisa had had one more arc that centered around BEN in danger because it would've been the crunchy logical end to her arc#and re: truth serum what lisa wants IS dean but critically... dean with no strings!!!!#and what lisa craves is no-strings attached dedication which IMHO may be why she sought validation from loner type dudes in the first place#a persistent interest of hers to the point of dressing her kid up like her youth-focused object(s) of validation and affection#i know it was played for laughs but it's much crunchier to see lisa's hands at work in her 8 yo kid’s interests!!!! spiderman? no!! acdc!!!#anyway lis stated TO dean that she did not want the way he lived with his hunting and esp his connection to feeling responsible for sam#she should have been allowed to completely own it by seeing all of dean's world and understanding it at its deepest roots#OR easy solution might've been dean asking who???? to sam in the last scene though re: lisa and ben to imply his own memories were gone#ask adjacent#she does try to meet him halfway in a checklisted list of *so understanding* and all the right words#but it's so crunchy bc while she will tolerate grief and alcohol and the idea of saving the world in abstract#she IS threatened by what she perceives as dean having *other* familial obligations#and THAT'S the fuel for her as main character energy right there#sam and ben are paralleled in episode 6x01 right down to their clothing#anyway i just think her hyperboles of best night... best year... make a LOT of sense for how she moves through the world#when you stop to think about it#lisa is a study in hyperboles on some levels and it's beautiful how matt slows into that eventually
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I’m pretty sure even if I were bisexual I’d still exclusively date women. Amongst people I’ve known the gap between “shit boyfriend” and “shit girlfriend” is very often so observably wide. Someone will leave their girlfriend and be like “Yeah I don’t know I guess I realized I was more trying to love her for something she wasn’t and it wasn’t fair to either of us” meanwhile someone will leave their boyfriend and be like “Yeah idk I realized it was all just a mistake. Also he believed testosterone correlated to intelligence for some reason? Unrelated but do you know any good therapists.”
#you wish this was hyperbole#i once asked a bi friend who hated men why they saw them to begin with#she just said because there’s a larger dating pool#which makes sense i suppose but like i wouldn’t do that to yourself if it were me#blap jabber
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this may be unwelcomed and if so my sincerest apologies but i feel a deep need to say thank you to jumblr.
to keep it as short as i can, i am a mixed race person. my father was latino, my mom was white. since my dad bailed the second he found out he'd have a son, i was raised by my white family. that white family has a neo-nazi in it.
and i mean a literal neo-nazi. i was raised to believe horrors about jewish people. i always felt the things i was told were hyperbolic but admittedly a lot of things stuck. after breaking out of that conditioning, i stayed out of the Israel/Palestine debate.
i figured it wasnt my place to hold any belief in it because i am neither jewish nor Palestinian, as well given my history living with anti-semites, i was predesposed to one side. this changed recently after i broke up with a student activist. the final straw being them wanting me to confront someone close to me about their jewish boyfriend wanting to become a citizen of Israel.
that and wishing Hamas a swift victory and saying Palestine will be free, even if it means killing every jew in Israel. these things didnt feel right to me at all. even if everything was true, killing every jew sounded so much like my neo-nazi family member. after that i decided i couldnt be hands off anymore, especially not while having a zionist in my circle.
that comes to this post. the last weeks ive been blessed to read jumblr posts and see the perspective of Jewish people on this conflict. see how anti-semitism is baked into the very core of the free Palestine movement and society at large. ive also been reading about the history of the conflict and how anti-semetism is the reason for it.
tl;dr: thank you jumblr for educating me. ♡
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ꪆ୧ ── HUSH-HUSH ┊ KEEP IT A SECRET ﹑ JJK ⤿ starring: g. satoru ◟ choso ◟ sukuna ◟ f. toji.
꒰ love simulation ﹢ headcanon-type · most to least likely to keep your relationship a secret!
𖧷 · love, ‘su: i have nothing to say here but I Need To have this here for layout purposes. it Bothers me if its not there.

most likely 𓂃 can hold themselves back. choso and somewhat toji.
( pda = public display affection. )
listen, CHOSO can keep a secret, but leave it up to him and he would've made it known you two were dating. he's only keeping it a secret because you said to. when it comes to you, everyone knows he never questions your words.
in terms of pda . . . he doesn't do it — actually, he does, but only you know the true meaning to his touch. it's a regular thing to have an arm wrapped around your friend's shoulder, standing close to them, blah blah blah. you get the point: he keeps it entirely friendly.
this doesn't mean he's not clinging onto you the moment your peers aren't around! once they're out of his view, choso will not waste time to satisfy the itch he's been feeling. either he buries his head in your shoulder, whining about not being able to touch you at least, or his hands are intertwined with yours.
in mr. TOJI FUSHIGURO's case, your words are law. he usually sits back and let you do as you please — obviously he'd go along with whatever scheme you planned. he doesn't mind keeping to himself at all; he's not one for much pda anyway.
there are times where he gets touchy, though. he tries to keep it at a minimum, but don't let him be near you during a dinner-out with friends or anything of the sort. if he's seated next to you, trust, his hand will find comfort sitting on your thigh, occasionally squeezing here and there.
sometimes — really rare times — his friends suspect him. they don't reach the “are you dating y/n?” conclusion, but do they reach the “you got a thing for y/n or what?” one. it's all due to the fact that he softens his language with you. he doesn't curse, tone lowers an octave, and has a slight smile. three things his friends will never experience. he doesn't deny it, but he also doesn't confirm; he simply shrugs at their questions and never satisfies their curiosity.
least likely 𓂃 sorry, he's a bit selfish. satoru and sukuna.
SATORU . . . yeah, no. there's no way he would've succeeded. that's like asking him to not breathe for a day. when you brought up the idea of keeping the relationship a secret, he tried talking you out of it. why are you denying publicizing his affection for you? you must hate him, or are you hiding the fact that you're taken? satoru's dramatic, and his favourite literary device is hyperbole. he will exaggerate.
at first he tries his best to keep it a secret, but old habits die hard. calling you names clearly reserved for someone's romantic partner, arm snaked around your waist all the time, glaring at anyone who tries to flirt, giving you quick kisses — yeah, no way.
but, satoru does apologize for failing to obey! if you're mad at him for outing the relationship, he'll spend days upon days begging for forgiveness in creative ways til you accept his apology.
SUKUNA does not give a fuck. he's lived long enough to not care about secrecy. it's cute that you want to keep it on the low, but he prefers letting it known. pair that with him disliking physical contact with anyone else and you've got yourself the perfect recipe for disaster.
whenever he's not with you and someone approaches him — no matter the reason — he's quick to ring up his favourite sentence: yeah no, i'm taken. either that, or he's holding his palm up to reject them. he does not wish to engage with strangers. even his own friends struggle to get him out.
when he's with you, however, he's clinging to you like a magnet. game night with friends/family? he's pulling you to lean on him, doesn't fetch drinks for anyone but you, gets revenge for you if you lost the game, demands that they “go easy on y/n.” the list goes on. it took everyone zero time to put the clues together and figure out sukuna and you are a thing. it's entirely out-of-character for him to be nice in the first place.

#. ae-generated: jujutsu kaisen#nanami isnt here but he's *THE* least likely. that man is showing off the ring u got him saying its his wedding band#whole time its js a matching ring set u bought on a whim#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk headcanons#jjk fluff#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru headcanons#gojo satoru fluff#gojo x you#choso x you#choso x reader#choso x y/n#choso fluff#choso headcanons#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji headcanons#toji x reader#toji fushiguro fluff#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Like a lot of other authors/content creators in the HP fandom, I am feeling a sense of heaviness over the rulings that happened in the UK and feel the need to speak on my (albeit very complicated) feelings.
What JKR is doing is terrible. It will ruin lives. It will end lives.
If you feel like that is being hyperbolic, please go look up the suicide rates for the trans community. It's a staggering number and it only grows as people seeking information, comfort, and support are locked out of proper resources due to heinous legislations like the one passed yesterday.
It saddens me too because I know that so many in the LGBTIQA+ have found characters/stories in the HP universe that have spoken to them and helped to understand their personal journeys---only to have that comfort ripped away by the very person who created them.
If you can permit me to be personal for a second: My brother is trans and before/during his transition (this was early 2010s) he always cited Remus Lupin as one of the foundations for coming to terms with his trans identity because he saw some of his own internal struggle in Lupin's character. He even went so far as to write a letter to JKR (which, thank GOD he never sent...) thanking her for creating a character that aided him with the complicated feelings he had when there were no other resources for him.
My brother is now a psychologist specializing in the young trans community and speaking to him recently, he has said that he comes across this same story constantly and each one ends in tragedy because that little piece of solace and comfort was not just taken from them, but told them that no, actually. You thought wrong to see yourself in this character. You don't matter.
Watching what happened yesterday and knowing the long history of bigotry JKR has spouted for years now weighs heavy on my heart every time I step into this fandom and often I question if I should still contribute to it. I know it's not much, but I would like to share some of the things that keep me going--even when it all looks really fucking bleak:
Fanfiction and fanart are, at their foundation, anticapitalist works--and can be used to fight JKR's agenda. By consuming fanfic/fanart zero money goes towards JKR. None. And further, JKR has no say in how you use her characters in these spaces. So, if you want to use these creative outlets to uplift trans voices, please do! Support trans writers/artists and urge them to PERSIST--because I promise you nothing is going to tick off the ole' bitch more than trans bodies/ trans supporters writing her characters.
Just because the writer is the devil, doesn't mean the art has to be. I won't go into the concept of "death of the author" because I think it can be pockmarked to hell with various examples, but what I DO subscribe to is that once the art is out in the world, it is now owned by the person who consumes it. To put it simply: when I read HP I am POSITIVE I imagine characters/settings differently than the person next to me. It's the beauty of the imagination: the creator can give us the blocks but how it is built is contingent on how WE perceive it.
Did I mention money? DON'T GIVE IT TO HER. Buy the books/movies second hand. Pirate the media you wish to consume around the fandom. Don't give her any reason to give any more hate funding and instead send that money to trans communities and groups who need it (they REALLY need it.)
Maybe I'm naive to say this, but I don't think interacting with the story as an art form is bad. She invented it, sure, but she isn't in charge of what goes on in my brain. If anything, this fandom NEEDS the trans community and supporters within it because not only can they push back, but they can educate those who otherwise are listening to the author. Don't let her win the space even though she's the author. It's no longer hers to have.
If you are someone who wants to leave the fandom because you can't bear to watch her continue to destroy it--I completely understand. But, as someone who has been in this fandom for over 20 years, the one thing I've learned is: besides monetarily she doesn't own shit. Don't let her take what you love from you and don't let her get away with scaring people out of their community spaces. Support and love our trans brothers and sisters and enjoy your HP despite it all. The things you love are worth fighting for.
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Threats of tumblr dying are well known to people here but you never know, I didn't think anyone would try to get rid of the dept. of education either.
I don't know what to say about it, this is where I started and the place I like best, by far. I'd hate to lose tumblr, it's the least corporate feeling on social media sites and people here offer different kinds of perspectives than you generally find those other places. (Maybe it's because so many of us are poor)
Anyway, if you want to be in touch and we are gone here, dailyrothko is on Instagram, threads, and bluesky and I have an easy to remember email which is, dailyrothko at gmail. Say hello anytime.
I would love it if we all could migrate somewhere but that definitely didn't work last time in spite of the hyperbole surrounding "tumblr alternatives" perhaps because it's not as easy to make a social media site as people imagined and at that time people were divided on the art vs porn use of tumblr. Sadly. tumblr botched the changes so badly a lot of the artists left too.
But, perhaps there will be good alternative someday. Part of the charm of tumblr for me is the format. :Long before I left twitter (said instagram, wishful thinking), I already felt it was worthless for art blogging.
I may pin this for a few days just to get it seen but what will actually happen, I think no one really knows.
#mark rothko#markrothko#rothko#daily rothko#dailyrothko#abstract expressionism#modern art#abstraction#colorfield#ab ex#colorfield painting#mid century#tumblr
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Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin
length ✦ 10k
genres ✧ it's a lot of oral, but hey, there's plot too; friends-to-lovers!Heejin
✦✧✦✧✦✧

Your fist clenches in a tight ball.
"If I die because of you, you better feed my fish."
"Die? You're being ridiculous," Heejin says.
You have a lot you could retort in that moment. Such as, "Me, the ridiculous one?" Or, "I'm being serious, I'm gonna actually die." Or, "You're actively contributing to the degradation of the meaning of language if you're claiming my suffering as ridiculous and assuming I'm participating in the honorable but currently inapplicable trope of hyperbole." All these things you can say, and you're without audible retort. This is the fourth time today Heejin's lips encircle your shaft; you were past dry by the third, because she would not let go of your cock for five minutes after your climax (because you didn't stop her).
Heejin's eyes beg, her lashes flutter, her tongue tempts, slithering, slick, and you think maybe you can spare her one more load.
Her mouth slips smoothly from the base of your cock to the head and then, pop. One big bubble of spit. She adds more, saliva foaming up on her tongue that's sticking out and toying with your tip.
"Don't die? Pwease?"
How ridiculous—or you could transcend to immortality at her behest.
All the while, she's sucking your dick in this bathroom like it's mere leisure for her. Like cigarettes to a smoker, she's blowing you like smoke, dirtying her throat, burning you up. Far past dignity now, the only thing she has between her knees and the floor is a bunch of toilet paper. The picture of addiction she paints is unfortunate and raw honesty and vivid contrast between such an elegant woman and such an inelegant solution to hunger. Despite how cavalier and practiced she is about introducing your tip to her uvula, Heejin will never give you a tidy blowjob. She salivates, every time, her tongue a wicked beast of its own, a serpent that can't lie above its love. And on the other hand, you can grumble and grouse all you want—if Heejin says your cock is going in her mouth, then…
You should've seen this coming like how you don't see yourself cumming because your eyelids are wired shut by the pretty agony of this orgasm. When you open them, her (fake, important to make the distinction) glasses are covered in streaks, her hands still twisting, tongue still licking your underside. Determination in her eyes says that every drop will be wrung out. It's possible this isn't leisure, but rather, business, and cum margins are getting lower as damnable inflation rises. She'll squeeze you dry for every last dollar of semen, no apologies to the sperm banks.
When Heejin is done, she sips on your cockhead, then a final kiss. You slump over the toilet and she pats your shoulder, laughing; it's a mean-spirited chuckle, but your dying wish is to hear that laugh one last time, so good on her for the penny of kindness she could spare like an insurance company donating to a hospital.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
"How could anyone love sucking dick that much?" Jinsol asks.
You look at Jinsol, then look at Heejin. Then, look at Haseul, and look at Heejin again. You've never gotten used to this dynamic. How much are you supposed to interject between three drunk girls talking? Are you meant to at all? The topic has already gone off-course, and there's no captain to steer the ship back when you're six bottles down.
Your eyes fall on Heejin, then Haseul.
"Oh, man," Heejin says, downing a shot. Her hand falls around her cleavage, as she feels the warmth of the alcohol envelop her and shudders, eyes closed. "Do you really want to get into this?"
Look at Jinsol and Haseul as they laugh, and you join in laughter, and you look at Heejin again; now, she's serious, rolled up her sleeves for good measure. Let's address the whole looking at Heejin thing, because it's so apparent, even to your drunk ass, that it must be apparent to the others too—you asked her out a while ago, first year of college, rejection, but you're still friends now. Then, despite that, she started getting touchier, somehow more flirtatious. Drove and drives you fucking mad. This little hangout thing at Haseul's place is a long ways away (call it half a year) from getting four oral sessions in a day, though you remember it as being a pivotal stepping stone to the routine.
Focus. You're always putting on a performance, and the actors of the nerves of your brain are having trouble getting the script from the filing cabinets. Question: is it more or less suspicious to allocate, say, three glances toward Haseul and Jinsol each to compensate?
"Sure," Haseul says, still giggling to herself. She's been doing that ever since asked the first question. "What's so wonderful about getting your jaw sore and your mouth dry?"
Heejin makes an angry noise and says through gritted teeth, "It's not about that, obviously. There's so much more to sucking dick than the…" She gestures with her arms, unable to find a word.
"Why do you like it, Heejin?" you ask. Everyone stares at you. "Sorry, nevermind."
"No, no, it's fine," Heejin says."Lemme just, how do I put this? It's like, when you're sucking dick, you feel like you're controlling the dude. You decide when he gets hard, when he gets wet, and when he cums."
"So, you're a sadist," Jinsol says.
"Sadist, my ass," Heejin retorts. "It's… empowering. Sucking dick is empowering."
Huh. The alcohol fizzles and dies in your mind, and Heejin's deep voice echoes in your head to take the place—oh, Heejin is fucking wasted, by the way. Drank as much as the other two combined, but still standing (sitting), but barely.
"Weird," Jinsol replies.
Haseul crosses her arms, facing Jinsol. "Hey, don't kink shame."
"No, no, you don't get it. There's another reason," Heejin continues, verging mad by now. Her cheeks are turning red. "Dicks taste good. Taste amazing, even. And… dicks have faces."
Haseul spits out soju. Jinsol coughs soju. You're lucky you weren't mid-drink.
"Dicks have faces?" Jinsol and Haseul say together.
"Y-yeah," Heejin says, her face flushed. "Dicks have faces. Like, if you suck on the head a bit, you can see different expressions. If you lick the underside, you can see them smile. If you swallow deep… they cry."
Your pants tighten. Somehow, you get it.
She says quietly and quickly, "Oh and also I like the taste of cum. Alright, fine, I really like the taste of cum." She gets louder. "Fine, okay, geez, I LOVE the taste of cum! Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Everyone bursts out in laughter. Heejin sips angrily on soju.
"Alright, Heejin," you say. "That was quite an enlightening explanation."
"Shut up, you," she says, sternly.
You gulp.
Haseul and Jinsol go get snacks from the kitchen, leaving you and Heejin alone.
"Dicks have faces, huh," you say.
"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"
"Not a chance. You know, no one made you say all that."
Heejin grumbles. You try to get closer, but she puts her hand on your thigh.
"You've got a boner," she says. "Stop."
"Wha? What do you mean?"
"Stop." Heejin stares at you with a serious face, contrasting all the redness in her cheeks.
You don't know where to start with a response.
"It's just, I don't wanna make things weird"—too late—"and obviously all this girls' talk has you riled up or whatever"—by the way, Heejin's hand is slinking higher up your pants—"and I know it's not your fault, but, we're friends, and I don't wanna ruin that."
"S-sorry."
"Good boy."
Heejin had to look in your eyes while saying that one, huh?
You clear your throat, and all efforts to tame your second brain fail. Another drink. It's agonizing, waiting for Haseul and Jinsol to return. Then, Haseul and Jinsol return. Snacks. Too little, too late. There are probably other conversations as the night goes on, but your mind is already spinning from the alcohol, spinning even further at dirty thoughts incepted by Heejin. Eventually, Haseul and Jinsol conk out, and Heejin helps you carry them to Haseul's room.
"Heejin," you say. "I can carry them myself."
"Yeah, I know. Isn't it usually Jinsol who passes out last?"
You would scoff at Heejin's remark, though with your mind elsewhere, you just nod. After you lay Jinsol and Haseul delicately on the bed, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, where you jerk off furiously. You've never tugged yourself without a video in tow or some other material to assist, and you've never felt this urge drunk, but the mere concept of Heejin sucking off your cock like she needs it is enough for you to cum. Mark this as the inevitable inciting incident: the door swings open as you pump your last shot.
You make eye contact. Heejin blinks. Cum flies.
"Uh," you say.
"Woah," she says.
You say nothing.
Heejin closes the door.
"Shit," you mutter and you've used too much toilet paper wiping down where you shot and you're fumbling and you almost trip over yourself and—goddammit, what the fuck just happened. Once you clean yourself off, you go outside.
Heejin is standing there.
"It's fine. Don't sweat it," she says.
"I… I don't know if I can. You know. If I can, like, not sweat it, fuck." You sigh. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing. Look, I'm gonna take the bed in her other room, you're fine with the couch right?"
You're drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch when Heejin shakes you awake.
"Huh?" you say.
"You know, I lied."
"About what?"
"Sucking dick having faces."
You blink. You rub your eyes.
"I lied. Dicks don't have faces. Cocks have personalities."
You're too tired to say anything. You just stare at Heejin. You smell a bit more alcohol on her shirt.
"Well, no, I mean, it's true, dicks have faces. But also cocks have personalities."
You think, but no words come out.
"The difference is, um, when a cock has personality, it has preferences and stuff. Like… preference for speed, depth, and tightness. When a cock has personality, you can tell when it likes and doesn't like what you're doing."
You nod off.
"Like, I could tell you would really like if I take all of you in my mouth. You definitely look more like an intimate, slow deepthroat kind of guy, you know, instead of the facefucking, gagging thing. It's like MBTI, yeah, that's it. Your cock is definitely an I, not an E. Oh, maybe a lot of tongue action? But not in the teasing the tip for the whole time sort of thing. Or, am I wrong? What kind of blowjobs do you like? Because you have the kind of cock I wanna tease, and the kind of dick I wanna kiss and why did you waste that load on a tissue, like are you kidding…"
Your eyes are closed.
A woman's deep voice. "Right. Well. Anyways, it's pretty late, and we're both drunk. So, uh. Good night. I guess."
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You wake up. Sunlight. Snack wrappers. Haseul and Jinsol nowhere to be found, or awake, rather. Heejin is next to you on the couch—no, you're hugging each other—actually, she's draped over you like a blanket, and your erection is pushing against her ass.
Heejin wakes up.
"Shit," you say, getting up. "I'm sorry."
"Didn't I tell you to... ugh, whatever."
You sit on Haseul's couch, rubbing the sleep and hangover out of your face, crust out of your eyes. You stretch, hearing creaks in your bones. Heejin sits up, looks forward.
"Last night," she starts. "I might have said some, uh, crazy things."
You snort.
Looking at you, she frowns. She doesn't seem hungover at all, not a bead of sweat on her forehead. Her hair is perfect, as are her pouty lips.
Your brow upturned, you scoff. "Like, crazy? That's one way to put…"
There's a twist in those lips now, like she's running it back in her head; now you are too.
"I mean—yeah, that's the right word, but..."
She's still staring at you, and your mind's really running in circles and sure she laid out the track herself but you could just run off it at any time.
Oh, you're following the track still? "It's, just, I'm, I'm sorry for, what I was, you know, doing. Last night."
Heejin sighs. "I told you. Stop apologizing. It's fine."
"Okay," you say.
You make an excuse to Heejin about getting home, despite wanting nothing more than to spend time with her. What's the point of hanging out when it's just going to make your crush on her worse.
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When you get home, you end up jerking off three times in a row in your own bathroom, but at least you aren't interrupted any of those times.
A few days after the party, you've been thinking about Heejin's joke a lot more than you should.
The worst thing is that Heejin is being all chummy with you again like nothing happened. You wonder if she's doing that on purpose. Either way, you've learned that you need to distance yourself. You've been avoiding group hangouts. You haven't answered your texts in a couple days. You've avoided the pet store the both of you always visit, instead opting to support local businesses like—insert large delivery corporation here (no free advertising)—for your fish food. This goes on for a week.
The week ends when Jungeun comes to your house.
"What?" you say, lounging, staring at air bubbles floating to the top of your little aquarium.
"Don't 'what' me," Jungeun replies through the closed door. "Open up."
"No."
"Look, I'm here because Heejin is really sad, and so Haseul wanted to know why you're not talking to Heejin, and I volunteered because I could tell Heejin really wants to see you and not just talk to you."
"Jungeun, I don't know."
"Listen. I'm not leaving."
Ten minutes later, Jungeun is eating potato chips in your room.
"So… why are you avoiding her?" Jungeun asks.
"What does she want to say to me?" you ask.
Jungeun pauses. "She… told me to tell you to go see her."
You sit on your sofa next to Jungeun, grabbing chips out of the bag. They're your chips.
"She didn't tell me to tell you what exactly it is, but it's important," Jungeun continues. "But honestly, what's been up with you?"
"Nothing's been up with me. I'm the same guy."
"That sounds like someone who has not been the same guy."
You eat more chips. "And how are things going with you and Jinsol," you say.
Jungeun stops slouching. "Hey, don't try and change the subject. For the record, it's been going fine, thank you very much."
"Sounds like you're still in the friendzone."
"You're the last person I want to hear that from."
"Me, the last person? I'd assume Jinsol would be the last person you want to hear that from."
"Fine! Just stop being a dumbass, okay? Heejin really, really wants to talk to you."
You put your hands up. "Okay. You win. I'll talk to her."
"Awesome." Jungeun looks down at her phone, then looking back up, she smiles. "Oh, by the way, Yerim just texted me, she finally finished exams for the semester. What if Heejin and Yerim both come over? We can get everything out of the way, two for one deal."
You sigh. "Yeah, I guess."
She pats you on the shoulder.
You feel no less comforted.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Two for one deal, your ass. You're pacing around your bedroom. Yerim and Jungeun are playing Smash in the living room, and Heejin is… somewhere, probably. The door is shut. All the noise in the world is muffled. You don't know what to expect. Obviously, Heejin needs to talk to you; you're her friend, one of her best friends, and you've been ignoring her for the past week. You sit down. Take a deep breath.
Knock, knock.
"Come in," you say.
You sit on your bed. So does Heejin. You look away. Look down. She smells really, really good, sweet and warm. You've missed her, a lot.
"Hey," Heejin says.
So she's talking first. "Hey," you respond.
You were already loosening up your tense shoulders, but Heejin says "So, Mr. Dickface" and you laugh and you look at Heejin, casually stunning in a simple outfit, a white tee, black shorts.
"Heejin, come on. It's been a week. I swear I would've forgotten if you didn't bring it up."
She pouts.
"Okay," you say, "alright, I would have not forgotten, fine. I still can't believe you. Dicks having faces."
She laughs now.
There's a lull in the conversation. The sound of Yerim shouting and buttons mashing is barely audible. You turn to face Heejin, and she's still looking at you. Her eyes are… soft, vulnerable. She's holding herself.
"Listen," Heejin says. "I'm sorry if I've been weird these past... mmm, months? I know you're not dumb, and I guess, I've been treating you like you are."
You whisper, "I am dumb though."
"No, you're not." She scoffs. "I'm sorry, seriously. We're friends. And friends don't lead each other on and play games"—the sound of a cheer coming from outside the room, definitely Jungeun—"okay, well, they do, but friends don't keep their friends wondering."
"Wondering?"
Heejin sighs. "Let me just get this off my chest. So, yeah, I like you. A lot. Obviously, you've liked me since the beginning. Or, well, loved. When you asked me out, I was excited and nervous and confused, but I... You know me. I've got a million things going on at the same time. Dating as a possibility didn't even cross my mind."
"Yeah. I get it. I don't blame you for that. I guess if we're both laying it all out, I get it. I swear I do. It's that dynamic that always fucks up a friendship between guy and a girl, and I think it's good we got that question out of the way early. But like, I was shocked, obviously, when you started touching me so much, holding hands, sitting on my lap, hugging me." You pause and look away. "It felt good, but it also felt wrong. Like you were playing with my feelings."
Heejin reaches out and takes your hand. "I wasn’t playing with you," she says softly. “I was playing with myself"—half a giggle comes out of you, adding some levity, and she smacks your shoulder—"No, not like that. What was I saying? Right, I guess I was trying to figure out what I wanted."
"Right." Your head hangs again. "So what? I'm just a bystander? A side effect?"
"Yes."
She laughs, squeezing your hand. You pout.
"I'm kidding. You're more than that. Way more. I've learned that much by now."
Heejin takes a long pause.
You can hear breathing, neither exhalations nor inhalations matching pace. It's tense.
"You know what else I learned? Because there's something else on my mind right now. Sort of, sparking in my head, shouting. I know we're having this whole heartfelt thing and I'm sorry for ruining it, but I have to say this because you have a boner and it's springing in your pants and I might be drooling or something—fuck. I've learned that I love sucking dick. A lot. Okay?"
This is the first time you've seen Heejin get so flustered, so bothered. So are you.
She isn't looking at you, yet she continues anyway: "Well. I have to be honest. That's all hypothetical. You know, I've never actually done it. I've just thought about it. A lot. And, obviously, you know, cucumbers turn to dildos and other toys and stuff. And then I saw your dick. And now I've thought about your dick and keep thinking about it."
Your heart skips a beat.
"Yeah." Heejin starts nodding, gaining confidence. "Yeah. I'm certain now. And please, don't think you're taking advantage of me or something, because you're not. In fact, I want you to take advantage of me."
Your breath stays in your lungs.
"How about this," Heejin says, leaning in more. "Do you wanna… fuck around? Or, well, I mean, that's a crass way of putting it. Be my partner in crime. Suckbuddy. Fuckfriend. Whatever you call it. No strings attached. You want a blowjob? You'll get a blowjob. That kind of thing. Even if it's not dating or whatever, we just do what we want to do and we can figure it out later."
Your smile grows slowly. "You know what? Sounds good to me."
"That's it? I drop all that in front of you and you're just, 'sounds good to me'?"
"Okay, fine. Here. I forgive you. That good?"
"Actually, that helps." Heejin exhales, a sigh of relief. "Great."
Silence. Cleared throats. The both of you sit closer now. Her knees bump into yours, and she giggles. She holds your hand. Your eyes meet. You're holding her gaze and her body heat is emanating from her skin and you want her, badly.
"You look handsome today," Heejin whispers. "Have I told you that lately?"
"No," you say, quieter, feeling meek. "You haven't. Thank you."
Her free hand brushes strands of hair.
"Your hair, so cute," she says, happily humming.
Heejin scoots even closer as her knee nudges between your legs.
"Nothing to say? Mm… okay. I have a question."
"What is it?"
Heejin kisses you, immediately catching your lips before you can breath, a taste of chocolate-tinged lip gloss, as her tongue mingles with yours. Her hand lays over your bulge, and her leg is still bumping into your crotch. She pulls away.
"Wow. You're kissing good," she says, flustered.
"No, you're better at it. Amazing. You're amazing."
"God, you're sweet." She laughs.
Your mouths are together again. You pull her into a hug, and she squeals.
"Woah there," she says.
"Sorry. Got a little excited."
"It's fine." Heejin looks away.
You squeeze her harder, and she squeezes you harder. You break the hug.
"Hey. How far," Heejin starts, "do you think we want to go?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like, right now. In the moment. If I'm reading this right, and I think I am, you really, really want me. So how far? Are we just gonna kiss this time? Or do you wanna go a bit further? A lot further."
You freeze. "Honestly, you decide."
"You sure? Because, if I had it my way, I, um, I don't think I'll stop sucking your dick until Yerim finally wins a round and they wonder where the fuck we've been."
Your eyes are wide. "Y-you're really picturing that, aren't you? The two of them barging in while my cock is down your throat."
She does not reply.
"You are unbelievable."
"I can't help it," she says, almost whining. "You have the sort of cock I really want to play with."
You pull Heejin back into another hug, kissing her. She pushes you onto the bed and straddles your thighs. Her body heat, her scent, her hands caressing you. This is the first time you're feeling this much of her body against your own, and it's incredible. Even better—much, much better—is when she lifts up her shirt, revealing a simple, black bra. She takes her shirt off completely, and your hands grab at her stomach. How many times have you watched her do ab workouts for an ungodly amount of time, hoping one day you could feel her six-pack for yourself? Your hands then trail up higher, until you're grabbing at her tits, still ensconced within the confines of a bra, but her breasts are heavenly, perky, waiting to be squished and bounced on your hands.
Heejin has other designs for you: she grabs both of your wrists and pins them to the bed above your head. Your pants are tenting, and she grinds against your cock. You moan.
"I love seeing you like this," Heejin says. She lowers her torso onto yours, breasts spilling out of her bra a bit. She grinds harder, and you moan again. "You're so hot, and you're all for me. God, I wanna… fuck around so much."
She backs up, dragging her crotch down your leg as she descends. When she reaches your foot, she sits and puts it between her legs.
"Shit, Heejin," you say.
She bends over to kiss your neck.
"Your foot… feels good. I'll never say that again, so don't you dare make fun of me."
"Wouldn't dream of it. You can always tell me what you like."
She's rubbing her crotch against your ankle and taking your shirt off. Her lips move down to your nipple, licking circles around it.
"Your cock… feels big," she says. She grabs at it through your pants. "I'm so fucking excited for the real thing."
You've imagined this moment so many times. You'd fantasized about being pinned to a bed, about being teased by Heejin, of course, but you didn't expect, couldn't ever picture how she'd really sound, how she'd actually feel, how it would feel to be touched, licked, kissed by her. And yet here she is, biting on your nipple, moaning herself as she uses your foot.
She lets go. "Your… chest is so nice."
"Uh, thanks."
Heejin smiles and returns to biting, but on your other nipple instead. Her next pecks and licks are on your own abs, tracing over your six pack, following the ridges and dips with her tongue. She takes your waistband in her mouth. Slowly, she pulls down. You lift your hips, and then your pants are off. Heejin drags her cheek against your cock through your underwear, eyes closed.
"Your scent… is amazing." She licks the fabric along your length, where it bulges. "Mmm, this is what I'm talking about."
Your cockhead is poking out of your waistband. She kisses it, and then sucks on it through your underwear.
"Heejin, take it… off."
She stops, eyes wide. She pulls your waistband with her mouth, and you lift your hips again. She tugs it down, your cock sprinting out.
"Oh, wow," she says.
"W-what is it?"
"Your cock… is really, really gorgeous."
You gulp. "Thanks."
Heejin takes your cockhead in her mouth. You close your eyes. She swirls her tongue around the tip. She bobs down, lips wrapped around your shaft. Then, pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand.
"Is this… okay?" she asks.
"More than okay. Really, really, really okay."
"Good." She jerks you off, her spit easing the friction.
"Shit, Heejin."
"God, I love hearing you say my name."
She moves faster, your cock slick in her palm. She alternates between fast and slow. One second, she's going quick, and the next, her hand is barely moving, and your cock is twitching in her grasp. Her thumb strokes your underside.
"I… love teasing you," Heejin says. "I love making you beg for me to go faster."
"Please, go faster, then."
"You're so cute." She goes slower. You groan.
Heejin moves her grip to your balls, stroking your underside with her thumb again. Her other hand grabs the base of your cock. Her mouth returns, sucking on your balls. She's pumping up and down.
"Fuck, Heejin, please… go faster."
"Again."
You gulp. "Please, Heejin, go faster."
"Good boy."
Her hand speeds up. Your balls are getting sucked, her tongue licking around them, and her other hand is jerking, and it's like she's milking you. Your climax is imminent. You warn her.
"You're gonna make me cum."
Heejin pops off your balls and takes your cock out of her hand. She lowers her torso.
"I've been waiting so long for this," she says.
She swallows you.
Her tongue is slathering your shaft, and she's bobbing down, and her lips are tight around you. The tip of your cock bumps into the back of her throat. Her hand is caressing your balls. Her other hand is pumping the rest of your shaft. She comes up, taking a deep breath, and her eyes are watering. You wipe the tears away. She smiles, as if she's satisfied with having gagged on your shaft, as if she believes with her heart of hearts her own doctrine, and in such resolve of her mouth returning, you can't deny it.
Maybe her jaw hurts. Maybe her throat's dry. But you sense none of it. Deeper, you hit the back of her throat again, and her lips still curl up into a smile even through more tears. She's still pumping, and her other hand is pinching her nipples. Heejin moans. Her moan vibrates your cock, and her moan vibrates her throat, and her moan vibrates her tongue, like, holy shit, you've never felt anything better. And then…
"Heejin, I'm… cumming."
She stays down. You shoot. Her eyes widen. Another shot, and her eyes are closed. Another shot, and you're groaning, and her throat is swallowing. More shots. You're pumping Heejin full of your cum, and she's pumping you empty. Heejin, relentless, keeps sucking. You try and push her off, meteors dancing in your mind, but she won't budge. She stays down, her eyes still closed.
"Heejin, wait, wait, I'm so, so sensitive."
Heejin shakes her head. With her mouth still full, she says, "Wah, want… ahll."
You collapse. Heejin keeps sucking. Your cock is twitching in her mouth, and you try backing up in your mattress until you hit the headboard. You grip the sheets. You can't stop cumming. Every suck Heejin takes is another shot down her throat, each one joined by a satisfied "mm, mm", and swallowed without hesitation. You lose track of how many shots you pump into her. Even when you stop spurting semen into her mouth, and your orgasm is subsiding, Heejin stays down. She moves her lips from the base of your cock up to your tip, and she sticks her tongue out to cushion the underside of your shaft. You're shaking. You can't stop shaking.
"Heejin," you say—no, you gasp it; you croak it out; you despair for the name, "wait."
She does just that. Wait. With your cock in her lips like a popsicle, and she's waiting for you to melt. She breathes through her nose, humming to herself. You shudder. Your cock is still sensitive.
"Please… wait."
Heejin listens. She doesn't suck, and she doesn't bob. She waits. Your orgasm is over. Your mind is fading.
Pop.
She sucks the tip. Pop. She takes your cock out of her mouth, holding it in her hand again. Her tongue sticks out and licks up your shaft, where all the leftover cum and spit and saliva has gathered.
"Ahh." Her tongue is covered in white cream. A gulp. "Ahh." Her tongue is clean.
If you need a few more breaths, unfortunately you've used up all the air already, and you're just running on whatever other fumes now. "You… are insane," you say.
She giggles. "Was it that bad?"
"No, no, no, it was… the best. And the worst. A-are you gonna do that every time?"
"Do what?"
"Never mind."
Heejin crawls on top of your body. Your cock is nestled between her thighs. She lies on top of you.
"Did you like it?" she asks.
"Yes."
"Do you wanna… keep being fuckfriends with me? Suckbuddies? While I talked all the game about blowjobs, I wouldn't mind if you gave me a little oral service once in a while too." She says quietly, like she's felt bashfulness for the first time in her life, "And, I, um, am down to do more too. A little later. Or something."
"Of course. Yeah."
You wrap your arms around her.
"Good," Heejin says.
She kisses you. Your cum is on her lips, and she's sharing the taste with you. You taste yourself. It's nothing terrible, but she did gulp your load down without stopping, so, you can't fully empathize with her enthusiasm. Still, you reciprocate, savoring Heejin instead.
You hear cheering from outside the room.
"Think Jungeun won," Heejin says.
You snort. "Should we… go out? Pretend like nothing's changed?"
"I'm sure we'll figure something out."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You and Heejin end up deciding not to hide anything, but not telling the girls either. They'd find out sooner or later, and besides, you'd both want to brag about it, eventually.
After the three of them say their goodbyes and leave your house, you head straight to your bathroom. You thought Heejin's lips fully drained you dry, but apparently not, because you shoot more loads thinking of how her throat swallowed you.
You receive a text from her.
> miss you already ;)
You smile.
> Miss you too. can't wait for next time.
Heejin sends a photo. A strand of spit falls from her lips, down to her cleavage. Your heart skips a beat.
> neither can i <3
You save the photo.
Your phone buzzes again.
> don't jack off to it though
> Too late.
You send your fingers and shaft covered in cum.
She sends a photo again, of her frowning.
> wtf!! that was my load! i'm gonna kill you!!!
You laugh and send a text with your other hand.
> Love you.
> lol yeah yeah whatever
You send another photo of your cock.
> another pic. As my apology
> wait.... didn't you say you just jerked off
> yeah?
> and you're still hard?
You gulp.
> guess so.
> you're such a stud. come over. i'll help you with that
You can't get dressed fast enough.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You meet halfway. A park, late at night. Fastest option, you're both too horny. You and Heejin are behind a building, some sort of community center, too late to be open or for the sun to shine down on the two of you being so daring outdoors.
Heejin's lips are on your neck, bound to leave marks, but you can't find yourself caring. Her hand is massaging your balls over your shorts, her other hand is down your underwear pumping your shaft, and her thigh is grinding against your cock. She kisses you.
You grab her jaw and pull her off you. "Um, I'm sorry. I, um, I think we might wanna establish some ground rules or something."
She stares at you, wide-eyed. "Ground rules? Like, safewords and stuff?"
"Uh, I guess, yeah. I just… I don't know, it'd make me feel more comfortable if, you know, we had some boundaries."
Heejin sighs. "Fine. Fair. Makes sense, I guess. I'm not a huge fan of… talking about feelings and stuff, but, I get it."
"Right, so, um, obviously, no feelings, and, I dunno, no dating?"
"Yep. You can see other girls. I'll see other dudes. Nothing serious."
"Sure. Yeah. Okay."
Heejin continues pumping your cock. "Anything… else?"
You gulp. "Safeword, I guess. And, like, is there anything you're… not okay with?"
"Um, not sure. Never thought about it."
"Okay, well, what's a word you hate?"
"Hmm… dick."
You blink.
Heejin giggles. "Just kidding. Um, I dunno, uh, penis? Cock? Uhh… sausage."
"Sausage?"
"Yeah. Sausage."
You pause. "And if, you know, I can't speak?"
"Tap three times on me or whatever. Three for sausage. Sounds good?"
"Yep. Three for sausage."
"Great. Anything else?"
"There was one thing in particular I was thinking about. So like, one time, I nutted seven times in a day."
Her mouth starts to water. "Really?"
"Yeah."
Heejin pumps faster. "That's… amazing."
"No, but that's the thing. I gotta set limits, Heejin. Even this, third time, it's, it's a lot. Too much."
She frowns. "What, so… no multiple nut sessions?"
"Once a week. Maybe."
"Fine, fine, okay. Once a week."
"Okay, cool. Ground rules established. Sausage as the safeword. No dating, seeing other people. Three times for sausage. One nut session a week."
"Got it." Heejin resumes pumping your shaft.
"Hey, Heejin, um, what do you want me to… do, when you're blowing me? Anything you want? Because it feels like I'm just"—she gets on her knees—"kinda doing nothing and"—she pulls your shorts and underwear down—"you're doing"—she puts your cockhead in her mouth—everything, see!"
Pop. "Yeah. I dunno. Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself."
"Wait, Heejin, but, aren't we partners in crime, fuckbuddies, whatever, I wanna, like, make you feel good too."
"I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Dickface." She jerks your shaft, and your knees buckle. You figure you might as well sit on the concrete floor, your back slumped on the brick wall. It's a makeshift position that you'll learn to get used to. She lowers her face to your crotch, then continues, "But don't worry. Feeling your cock cum is enough to make me feel good."
Heejin licks circles around your shaft, where the precum has gathered. Her hand is pumping the rest. Your cock is already twitching.
"Besides," she continues, "if you focus on me… we'd never get anywhere."
Pop.
She swallows you.
"Heejin, shit."
Her bobbing is relentless. She's pumping your shaft and massaging your balls, and she's deepthroating your shaft. Her spit is drenching your cock, and her lips are tight, and her tongue is slathering. Heejin's bobbing up and down, and your cockhead bumps into the back of her throat. Your balls clench. You shoot.
Pop.
Heejin takes your cockhead out of her mouth. Her hand is jerking, and the first shot hits her lips. The second, she opens her mouth to catch. The third, she closes her lips. The fourth, she catches in her mouth again. The fifth, she swipes up with her tongue. The sixth, she catches. The seventh, she misses, and your cum lands on her cheek. The eighth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her chin. The ninth, Heejin opens her mouth, and your cum falls right in. She gulps. The tenth, she misses again, and your cum lands on her neck. Heejin's pumping slows.
"That… was… amazing," you say.
Pop. "Yeah."
"Fuck. I'm just saying. Next time, I'm going to get a taste of your pussy." You open your mouth. "See, my mouth's watering just thinking about it."
"Yeah?" She jerks your shaft. Another shot lands on her neck. She wipes your cum and sticks her finger in your mouth. "You're adorable. But you're right. Next time."
✦✧✦✧✦✧
The two of you had ramyeon at a convenience store after, then said bye. Like friends. Just friends.
The next time is two days later, at night again. This time, you finally go to Heejin's apartment. You haven't been here in a long time, not since she moved in. It's cleaner than you remember.
"Make yourself at home," Heejin says.
You sit on her couch. She sits next to you. You kiss. Your hands are groping her breasts, and her hand is pumping your shaft. You lift her shirt, and her tits are freed from her bra. Her nipples are hard. You pinch them.
"Hey, wait, stop, stop," she says.
"Sausage?"
"N-no, I'm… fine, just, wait."
"What is it?"
"Um, so… I kinda… made a mess. Earlier."
"What… kind of mess?"
She giggles. "On my bed. You'll see."
Heejin leads you to her room.
"Holy shit," you say.
"Surprise?"
She's made a mess, alright. Sheets stained white, spots and splotches, streaks and trails, the whole nine yards. Your cock twitches, even if you're confused how one woman could make such a mess on her own.
"I was, um, thinking about sucking your cock all day yesterday. I didn't wanna touch myself, but I couldn't help it."
"I'm glad."
Heejin lies on her bed, pulling her shorts and underwear off. Her pussy is glistening. She spreads her legs.
"Come. Lick it."
"I've been waiting for this." You crawl on top of Heejin's body and put your face between her legs. You lick circles around her slit. You lick up and down her folds. "I don't exactly have toys to practice on like you... so I'm gonna need to do plenty of catching up."
"Don't worry. Practice away."
You lick circles again, and Heejin's quiet. You lick up and down, and she's quiet. You flick her clit, and Heejin's quiet. Your tongue is slathering her slit, and she's quiet.
"Wait, Heejin, is… everything okay?"
"Yeah. It's fine."
"What is it? Is my tongue rough or something?"
She looks at you. "Oh, no, no, not at all! No, it's, um, your technique's, uh, kinda lacking."
"Ah. Yeah, see."
"Here, I'll show you."
Heejin sits up and pushes you down. She's straddling your face.
"First," she says, "spread my… my lips. Like this."
She spreads her labia.
"Then, you wanna, kinda, stick your tongue inside, like, deep."
Heejin uses her finger to spread herself wider. You stick your tongue inside her hole.
"Now… use your thumb to, like, rub my clit, and move your tongue around. Like, you're, um, writing, something, with your tongue, I guess. Inside me. Like, a, um, circle. Shit, I dunno."
You rub her clit. Heejin moans. You lick circles inside her hole.
"And, uh, yeah, that's… about it. Oh, and, move your, your finger and thumb. Not at the same time. And I'll grab your hair and move you around and I guess just tell you what to do. And then you can figure it out after that, right?"
"Yeah. Got it."
Heejin lies back down. You spread her lips. You stick your tongue inside her hole. You rub her clit. You lick circles inside her hole.
"A little lower. And, and, like, lick, not circles, but, a, like, a line. But not a straight line. An, um, I dunno, a diagonal one. But not a diagonal one. A, uh, a curve, but not a curve. Um."
You lick lower. You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve.
"There. Yeah. That's… good. Keep going."
You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You lick a curve, but not a curve. Heejin moans. Your tongue is still licking, and she moans, and her hand is on top of your head.
"Use your, your thumb, and, and, like, stick your index finger inside. Like, curl your finger and, and, find my, my, um, g-spot."
You rub her clit. You stick your index finger inside. You curl your finger. Heejin moans. Your tongue is licking diagonally, but not a diagonal. Your index finger is curling, searching, and you find her g-spot, a soft patch inside her walls. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Heejin moans again.
"Add… another finger."
You stick your middle finger inside.
"Curve both, both your, your fingers. Both fingers."
You curl both your fingers.
"And, and, like, twist. But not twist. Rotate. But not rotate. Uh, fuck, um, shit, I dunno, uh, fuck, whatever, just, um, fuck, uh, wait."
You lick diagonally, but not a diagonal. You curl both fingers. You rotate, but not rotate. While you're going through advanced mathematics under a tutor under a slightly lust-drunk stupor, you're starting to understand both sides more. On the one hand, your mouth is indeed going dry, and your jaw is starting to hurt. On the other hand, you're drooling. Whatever taste Heejin's pussy has is starting to get really addicting, enough for your cock to stay hard the entire time, enough for you to ignore the fatigue.
"Add… another finger."
You stick your ring finger inside, which immediately earns a moan from Heejin. Your tongue is licking curves, but not a curve. Your fingers are curled, rotated, twisted, whatever. Heejin moans again. You're rubbing her clit.
"Fuck, more, more. Rub my, my, rub my clit faster. Fuck, lick faster."
You speed up. You curl your fingers. You rotate them. You twist them. Heejin moans again. Her hand is tight on top of your head. Her body is trembling. You move your free hand and press it onto her stomach to keep her still. Your three fingers are thrusting in and out of Heejin's pussy, and her hips are buckling. Her walls are clenching. She moans, a final time.
Heejin lets go. You lick. Your fingers are thrusting. Your thumb is rubbing her clit. Heejin shudders. More gushes of cum coat your tongue and fingers. She's going to drown you. You understand how she made that mess. Your three fingers are pistoning in and out of Heejin's pussy as her climax subsides. More gushes. More. Less. Some.
"Wait," she says. "Hold… hold it. My spot."
You stop rotating, twisting, and whatever-ing. Her walls are fluttering. Your three fingers are still. Her girl cum is trickling out of her hole.
You take your face off Heejin's crotch.
"Holy… fucking shit," she says.
"Wild ride?"
"That was… amazing."
You flex your fingers. "Yeah. Didn't know you could squirt like that."
"Neither did… I."
Heejin props herself up. You stick your three cum-soaked fingers in her mouth. She sucks. She moans. You stick them deeper down her throat, and her lips are wrapping. Her eyes are closing.
"Thanks for… teaching me," you say.
Pop. "Mmm. Of course."
Your three fingers return to her pussy. You pump, and her girl cum is slicking your fingers. Heejin lies back down. Your three fingers are pistoning again. She moans.
"Wait, wait, sausage, sausage!"
You stop. "Shit, sorry."
"It's fine, it's fine. Just, sensitive."
"Got it."
Heejin giggles. "Sorry. Sometimes… I squirt a lot. Um. Overstimulated."
"Well, at least you know how I feel."
"Wait, was that a sausage moment, because I feel so bad and—"
You interrupt Heejin with a kiss. "No, it's fine. In fact, it was really fucking hot, and besides, I already told you about how much I can cum. Oh yeah, by the way—" another kiss, because there is no such thing as too many with Heejin "—I kinda wanna see the toys you were talking about."
"Really?"
"Yeah. If that's… cool."
She smiles. "Sure. Lemme, lemme clean up first."
"Alright."
Heejin cleans her bed with tissues, and you help her wipe up. Then, you head to her closet. She opens it, and… holy shit. There's an assortment of vibrators and dildos and g-spot stimulators and other contraptions and tools, almost an entire shelf dedicated to sex toys.
"This is… incredible," you say.
"Hey, um, by the way, could you, um, close your eyes?" she asks. "I, um, dunno, it'd… feel less embarrassing."
"Sure."
You close your eyes.
"And, like, turn around."
You turn around.
"Okay, okay, so, um, these ones"—you hear plastic tapping against plastic—"are just the vibrators. These ones"—plastic tapping again—"are the dildos. And then… um, these ones are for g-spots, and, and then there's more for anal, and then… um, I dunno, basically, um, the rest is stuff I've gotten on impulse because it looked fun."
You snort. "Impulse, huh?"
"Shut up. Um… open your eyes."
You turn back around. Heejin's holding a Hitachi wand.
"Okay, so, like, this, this is probably my favorite. Wand. Magic wand. And then"—she puts it back and holds a simple, white vibrator—"this is the, um, the next one." She puts it back and holds a curved, purple toy—"then this. Um… this is, this is the biggest"—she puts it back and holds a monster of a dildo—"um, and then, this is the smallest." She points to a cute, pink bullet vibe.
So many questions flood your mind, but the only thing you can blurt out is, "Impulse purchases, huh?"
Heejin shoves you. "Shut up! Um… and then, this"—black anal beads—"and, um, this"—clear, pink butt plug—"are for anal. Obviously. And then, um, basically, I've, um, experimented. A lot."
"Experimented, huh?"
She shoves you again. "Stop… saying huh!"
You wrap Heejin in a hug. "I'll say huh as much as I want."
"Whatever. Um… anything you wanna… try?"
You gulp. "C-could I watch you use them?"
Heejin steps away. "Wait, really?"
"Yeah. I mean, if you're comfortable. Like, right now. Or something."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
Heejin sighs. "You… absolute pervert."
"You're the one with"—you point to her shelf—"all that."
"Fine, fine. Um, sure. Which… do you wanna see me use?"
You gulp again. "So, um. You said you practiced sucking dick on one of them right? Imagined it was me?"
She rubs her thighs together. "Y-yeah."
"Which… was it?"
Heejin reaches for one. She holds a flesh-colored dildo, about the length and girth of your own cock.
"This one," she says.
"Then, that one, please."
She nods. "Okay… sit on the bed. Get comfy."
Heejin puts the dildo on her bed and closes the closet door. She undresses completely, tossing her clothes to the side. Your cock is tenting. She returns, picks the dildo, and then she lies on her bed next to you.
"So… you, you just wanna watch me use this? Suck on it and stuff?"
You nod. "Yeah. Please."
Heejin bends her legs and spreads her thighs. Your cock twitches. Her free hand rubs her slit. She's spreading her lips.
"Shit, Heejin, you're so hot."
"Thanks… pervert."
She sticks the dildo inside her hole, and you love watching how her pussy stretches for it. Especially knowing your cock will be doing the same soon. That image makes you harder, enough for you to pull down your pants and start jerking.
"Heejin, would, would you… talk? Your voice is so pretty."
Heejin blushes. "Thank you. What do you want me to say?"
"Just, like, anything. Tell me… what you're imagining. What you're feeling.. Your fantasies."
Heejin gulps. "Um, o-okay."
Her free hand is rubbing circles around her clit. The dildo is slowly pumping in and out of her hole.
"Sometimes, um," she starts, "sometimes I imagine… it's you. Inside me. Your cock. And, um, usually, we're, we're doing missionary, and, um, your hands are on my tits. Pinching my nipples. Wait, come here. Pinch my nipples."
You follow her command, sitting closer to her so you can grab a nipple with one hand while your other jerks faster. Heejin moans. You jerk faster.
"Oh, god, mmm. If I could keep your gorgeous fucking dick in my mouth all day I would. I'd suck it every second. God, I'd, I'd wake up to it. I'd go to sleep sucking on it. Hnnh. Your hands… are making me feel really good. Or we could cuddle and watch a movie, and the whole time you'd be... fuck, you'd be slowly sliding your cock in and out of my asshole. Mmnh. God, and, maybe we'd have friends over, and you'd fuck me from behind, and no one would know. Shit, especially when we're at Yerim's, you could take me to her really nice bathroom and rail me in her really nice shower. Mmm."
The dildo speeds up, and her clit rubbing is speeding up. Your jerking is speeding up too.
"Or we'd go out to eat, and, fuck, you'd finger me under the table, and then, and then you'd order dessert, and instead of eating the real thing, you'd feed me your cock, and I'd cream myself. God, shit, your hands. Mmfh. Or, or, sometimes I imagine, we're on the couch, and Jungeun and Jinsol and Haseul are hanging out, and they're just chatting away, and I'm sucking your dick, or you're fingering me, or I'm warming your cock in my pussy, and no one would know. Shit. Or they do know, and they pretend like I'm not even there on my knees sucking you off. Fuck."
You're about to cum. "Shit, Heejin, keep going, I'm so, so, so, so close."
"Nngh. And I'd even—wait, d-don't waste that cum yet." She takes the dildo out and moves closer to you. "Feed me. Put it in my mouth."
You do. Heejin's jerking the rest of your shaft, and your tip is in her lips, and she's pumping, and her spit is slathering. You groan, and she moans, and a shot fires into her throat. Her jerking doesn't stop. Another shot, and your mind is fading. Another.
Pop. She's gasping for air, trying not to spill the load as she speaks. "Ahh, waih, feed me, hah, some cum, wifh your hand."
You take your cock out of her mouth, masturbating some cum onto your palm. Once your climax eventually subsides, you offer your hand to Heejin, and she makes eye contact as she slurps up your seed and licks every joint of your fingers.
After she has every drop she can get in her mouth, she looks up, gargles, and then gulps. "Thank you for the meal."
You sigh. "Jesus, you're crazy."
"Only for you."
You kiss. "I'm honored."
"Um, by the way, can I finish?"
"Yeah, of course."
Heejin lies back down and picks the dildo. Her free hand is rubbing her clit again, and the dildo is pumping in and out of her hole.
"Hold on," you say. "Could I… use the wand on you?"
She stops. "Really?"
"Yeah. Unless it's sausage time."
Heejin giggles. "No, no, it's fine, just, um, lemme… get comfy again." She gets on all fours, and you move to a squat, holding the wand in one hand and the dildo in the other. "And, um, don't turn it on the highest setting. Not yet."
"Got it."
You stick the dildo inside Heejin's pussy and move the wand to her clit. You turn the wand on, and the sound of buzzing fills her room, followed by a moan from Heejin.
"Tell me more fantasies," you say.
She tries her best to give you everything she's thinking about, from bending her over the kitchen counter to tying her up and edging her, from fucking her mouth blindfolded to having a whole day where you fuck her whenever you want, free-use style. You're glad that she trusts you enough to share her kinks. You're looking forward to experiencing them someday.
Her dirty talking devolves into incomprehensible moans, and her doggystyle position is faltering, her face in the mattress. You stick the dildo deeper, and you turn the wand to a higher setting. She screams.
"Shit, sausage, sausage!"
You immediately stop everything. Heejin's trembling.
"Oh, god," she says.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine. Just, too much."
"Fuck, I'm so sorry."
"No, no, it's fine, just, sensitive. But you owe me."
"What do you mean?"
"Turn the wand off and give me the dildo. I'm going to cum with your cock in my mouth because that's where it belongs."
You comply, handing her the dildo and turning the wand off. Then, Heejin lies back down on the bed. You're uncertain about where to go, until she grabs your ass, pulling you to mount on top of her chest.
"There we go."
You look back and see Heejin starting to dildo-fuck herself again, and before you can look at Heejin's face again, she's already captured your cockhead in her lips.
"Oh, fuck," you say.
She moans. You jerk off the rest of your shaft, and she's moaning hungrily around you. Heejin's free hand massages your balls, and she pistons the dildo at a hearty pace, a loud, sloppy pace. As if she were imitating what your cock would sound like, if it were pounding her hole. Having painted a million pictures in your mind, and having heard her talk about so many fantasies, your mind can't help but fill in the blanks. The biggest blank is her throat.
"Heejin," you say.
Pop. "Mmm. Yeah?"
"Could I… choke you with my cock?"
She giggles. "Go for it, stud. Shoot it straight down. I don't care. It'll make me cum harder. I wanna feel my throat bruise."
You gulp. "A-are you sure?"
"Mmm. Totally. I'm gonna keep fucking myself and sucking you off and if I tap three times on you, then it's sausage time, and you stop choking me. Deal?"
"Deal."
Heejin takes your cockhead back in her mouth and moans. Her free hand goes back to your balls, and you place both your hands on the sides of her head. Slowly, carefully, you force her lips to travel past your tip, and to reach halfway down your shaft. Her cheeks are concave and your palms can feel her slobbering. Once she reaches your base, her eyes are watering. She looks up at you, her dildo fucking faster, her lips tight. You pull on Heejin's hair to move her head up. She moans. Her whole body is trembling again. You slam her head back down.
"Heejin, I'm"—she moans—"about to"—she gags, a broken vibration around your cock, and she moans—"cum!"
Her gagging, however, only urges you more to fuck her throat with your cock. Heejin gags again, and her throat walls are clenching, and a whole bunch of spit comes out, drenching your balls. The last thing you feel before your mind fades is her final whine, lost to the whole of her universe. Your spasms return, your hips shake, and this time, you see her whole body tense up—finally you and Heejin cum together, with her dildo ramming her hole and your cock ramming her throat. She's squealing and squeaking while taking your cock down to her base again, her gagging more persistent. After all her fantasies, the real thing is so much hotter than your imagination, and your brain starts painting new pictures on instinct.
Pop.
"Holy. Fucking. Shit," she says.
Your cock twitches out spurts of your seed, coating her face. Her dildo has disappeared from her pussy.
"I'm, I'm sorry, about, um, being… a bit too rough," you say.
"Are you fucking stupid?" she asks. "Do you have, do you have any idea how fucking hard I came? God, and the cum you're firing in my throat, thank you, thank you, thank you. Your cum is what gives life purpose."
You grin. "I'm glad you think that way. My cum was only alive because of your pretty little mouth, though."
Heejin licks up every streak and spurt.
You lie back down on her bed next to her. "Hey, uh, you… still owe me though."
"True," she says. "What do you want? Another oral service tomorrow?"
"Can't tomorrow. It's already one in the morning."
"Ah, fuck. Morning."
"It's fine." Your voice is meek. "Let's not do anything. For a while."
"What?"
"This is fun. And I'm sure we could come up with a million ways to jerk each other off with our hands and mouths and words. But, you were thinking it too, right? When you had that, that dildo inside of you. Fucking you. I mean, I don't, I really don't wanna pressure you, but I thought it'd be fun. You know. If we just held off of anything, sex, cumming, masturbating, all of that, and we just… wait. How about until your birthday?"
"What?! That's like, twenty days away."
"Exactly, once in a while we could do other stuff. Wouldn't it be fun to just get edged every day until then, waiting, anticipating, and when we finally do fuck, it'll be the best sex of our lives, the perfect present. I mean, you got yourself off plenty of times already. I bet you could go without a nut for a while."
"Oh, no. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"And vice versa, I guess."
Heejin grumbles. "Fuck. Fine. Deal. But no matter how much I tempt you, no matter how much you tempt me, we're not going to cum. We're gonna edge each other. No matter how hard I suck. No matter how hard you thrust."
"Deal."
You shake hands.
"Um, by the way," she says.
"What?"
"You, um, you're a pervert."
You sigh. "I know."
"But you're, um, you're a pretty nice guy. And smart. And hot. Okay, that's enough for your ego, goddammit."
"Keep going, you're gonna make me cum."
Heejin grins. "Oh, that's all it'll take, huh?"
You kiss.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You wake up on Saturday morning, having stayed the night at Heejin's place. The two of you have a breakfast of leftover ramyun, and you say goodbye at the door.
"Wait," she says. "Hold on. I forgot something."
You turn around. "What?"
Heejin kisses you. "Bye."
You return the kiss. "Bye."
You go home, and on Sunday, you wake up to a text from Heejin.
> morning. :)
You smile.
> Good morning.
You send her a picture of your cock, already hard in the morning. She sends a photo of her own pussy, spread open with her fingers. It's scintillating, dewy. Your cock twitches.
> morning wood?
> Yep.
> you know how bad i wanna suck that dick right now
> Yeah. I'm thinking about fucking your throat.
> godddddddd i love it when you say that shit
> Do you think you're gonna nut today?
> probably not. if i can't even last a weekend without cumming, i srsly need to reexamine my life
> lol. true. well, good luck.
> you too
You send a photo of your cock, with a drop of cum at your tip. It only took a token effort of stimulation to get a bead of pre-cum.
> wait were you fapping just now
> Yeah. Just a bit
> godddddd youre so bad
> Don't worry. I don't plan on cumming until it's inside you on your birthday :)
> fuck you
> I thought we were gonna save that for your birthday too :(
> shut up
You smile.
> I miss you.
> me too
> Next week. We can meet up. See how we're feeling about this whole thing. Maybe get dinner or something.
> like a date?
> Well, no dating. Obviously. Ground rules and all.
> "k fine. sounds good
> See you then <3
> yeah yeah whatever <3
You laugh. This is going to be fun.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Happy birthday to the best girl! Once again, this falls under my time-honored tradition of incomplete-but-complete-enough stories to post for some deadline, so I'm not bothering with crossposting (okay fine I am just too lazy).
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And Comes Dawn pt iii
Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, more ships/love triangles to come, though, so stay tuned.
Summary: the deciver has decided he must get rid of you until a stranger reignites his curiosity in an unexpected way.
Word count: 2k
Notes: let me know if you wanna be tagged. I was not expecting this many people to like this fic. Thank you so much for the feed back, I read every comment and reblog multiple times. Keep any and all feedback coming. I'm super invested in this series and have so many plans that I'm so excited to write.
Tags/warning: male masturbation, nothing super explicit but sauron has some pretty unhealthy kinks, slow burn, saurons post nut clarity is murder plotting, sauron being sauron. galadriel finally shows up, cliffhanger
Series Masterlist
“She does nothing but sit there, day in and day out. Our rations are wasted on her!”
“All of us sit and do nothing because there is fucking nothing to do.”
Halbrand and the older man were fighting again. Halbrand had become annoyed that the other had declared himself the de facto leader of the raft, and his anger exploded when it was proclaimed you had not 'earned' your rations. He had obviously found it absolutely insane and when you made no sound or protest, he took it upon himself to make it known how insane it was.
“I am the leader here. I have organized the rations, I have kept order, and I have directed where we go.” The other man seemed offended. He had proven himself to be rather arrogant, and you held no surprise that he would suggest such a thing or believe that he was the leader of the raft.
“Oh great Lord of the Raft. How difficult your job must be. Deciding if we die a little to the west or a little to the east.” Halbrand rolled his eyes as he spoke.
“Be sarcastic all you want. She's lucky we don't throw her in.”
The air stilled and a dark shadow passed over Halbrands face, his jaw clenched and in a moment he had grabbed the other by their shirt, “The moment you do that is the moment I feed you and every single person on this raft to the wyrm.” Their faces merely inches apart, Halbrands voice was cold, full of hatred, and it sent a chill over everyone on the raft. The older man stared up at him with fear, a fear so palpable and intense that it was as if he was looking into the eyes of the great foe himself.
“Halbrand,” you spoke softly, fingers gently wrapping around his wrist and moving him away. “This is not what I wish.”
He turned to look at you and his gaze softened,tongue peaking out to wet his lips. The air flowed again, and the darkness lifted, “You wish to starve? Because that's his wish, that's his plan. He wants to make our supply of food last longer by taking the very little portion you have. He knows you would never say anything to him, and you can not ask me to sit back and watch you starve, sweet one.” His eyes searched your face as he spoke with such earnest conviction.
“I do not wish for you to murder in my name,” you replied in a passionate whisper.
Halbrand nodded, sighing softly, “Then I will not,” he leaned closer to you, so his lips were next to your ear, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. Your breath caught in your voice as he whispered softly, “Know that I would, though. If you only asked, I would burn this raft and everyone on it to keep you safe.”
He pulled away and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you stood speechless. The butterflies in your stomach exploded. This was new. Your interactions had been purely platonic until this point. He never presented himself as someone more than a friend, and you had been content with that. Yet you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your forehead and greatly missed them when they were gone.
The talk of murdering everyone else was one you didn't wish to dwell on. Perhaps it was hyperbolic. Perhaps said in anger. Either way, those were thoughts for another time. Now, you would embrace the shivers and butterflies.
“Well, your highness, she will be eating today and I will ensure it,” Halbrand gave the man a pointed look and the other simply nodded, his eyes still swimming as if he'd seen some great horror but you were too fixated on the ghost of Halbrands kiss that lingered on your forehead to pay it much mind.
~
He'd taken the deception too far when he placed that kiss upon your head. He regretted it the moment he did it. The taste of your skin stained his lips, and it was all he could think of. Your skin felt unbelievably soft and he could just imagine what your lips would taste like, your tongue, your cunt.
Your cunt. The thought of it had been all consuming. Warm and wet. Soft and velvety. He ached to feel it, to taste it, to take it. The thoughts had led to his current position, standing at the edge of the raft with his cock in his fist. This act felt below him but the thoughts wouldn't leave his mind and he needed some relief from them. From the thoughts of you.
Thoughts of your cunt.
Warm and wet. Soft and velvet.
His eyes fluttered, and his breath caught in his throat. He hated every second of this. He had no control. Ever since you looked up at him with those eyes of yours, eyes he wanted to make weep as you choked on his cock. He breathed a soft curse as he imagined your sweet, innocent eyes looking up at him with your lips wrapped around his cock. His thumb collected the precum from his tip and worked it around his shaft, the soft wet sounds filling the night.
Would you be inexperienced? Had someone claimed you before? You were his and his alone, his precious sweet one. The thought of someone else having you first filled him with such rage. He would drench his hands in their blood and paint your body with it as he fucked you. His hands around your neck, squeezing enough to feel your life thrumming underneath his fingers.
You were his and his alone. No one else could touch you, no other lips taste you, no other cock take you. He'd burn all of Middle Earth to ensure it, torture any man who dared look at you. He'd carve his name into your flesh, lick the blood off your skin. A growl escaped his lips, the thought of his name scared into your soft skin. His hand tightened around his cock and his movements increased in speed.
His breathing got more ragged as he got closer to his peak, your name tumbling past his lips in a choked whisper. He could almost imagine you whining and whimpering his name, his real name. That was what sent him over, the visual of you impaled on his cock and desperately calling his name. He groaned loudly, his seed shooting into the water.
Breathing heavily, his eyes closed. Almost immediately, the cacophony of thoughts entered his mind. That had been a brief reprieve, but now his existential crisis continued. What was his purpose? Who was he now that his master was dead? Power and control, how could he have both without sacrificing the other?
And then your smiling face flashed through his mind, the sound of your laugh...-
This couldn't continue. No amount of curiosity was worth this loss of control. He was a god, but his mind as of late had been reminiscent of a teenage boy. Thoughts may plague him, but he would forget you within the age. He needed you gone, dead. The longer you stayed alive, the longer these damn lustful thoughts would plague him and be his undoing. He was slowly losing his sanity because of you.
The problem was he couldn't do it. He tried mere minutes before giving into these urges, but as he looked at your sleeping face, he couldn't bring himself to push you in and under the waves. In thousands of years, no one had been able to still his blade or stay his hand with such ease. He couldn't look at you and take your life. He could not be the one to do it, that thought alone proving to be more a reason for your death. Weakness was not something he would tolerate.
His mind called out to wyrm, calling it to their location. If he couldn't do it, he'd give the task to something else. By nightfall tomorrow, you'd be gone. You'd be at the bottom of the sea or in the belly of the beast. By nightfall, he'd have his mind back.
Why did the thought of your death fill him with such dread?
~
He wouldn't even look at you. You'd greeted him in the morning, and he ignored you. You sat next to him, and he moved to the other side of the raft. You watched as his eyes bore into planks of the raft. You wet your lips and pulled it between your teeth. He was your first friend in a very long time, and now you had lost him for reasons that escaped you. You were utterly alone, lost at sea, and you struggled to find hope here. All you could do is close your eyes and remind yourself that falling into despair would do nothing more than make the situation worse and more hopeless.
You watched the clouds pass in the sky, counting them, and your fingers tapped away at the wood. Every few moments, you had to blink away the tears that had started welling in your eyes as you thought of losing another person you cared for. Suddenly, you sat up as you heard what you thought was a voice in the air. You squinted as your eyes examined the fog.
“There's a voice on the water.” You spoke quietly.
Almost instantly, bickering broke amongst the others. To save her or not. You shook your head, “We're not leaving her to starve and die!”
One of the others pulled her up and gave her water as you grabbed her a chunk of bread and looked for a piece of cloth or something that could bring the stranger some warmth. The bickering continued as you searched and returned with a piece of bread.
“Suppose you'll be sharing your rations?” the old man asked.
You couldn't help the roll of your eyes, “Damn the rations,” you kneeled and handed the stranger the bread. “It's not much, but it's something. Are you hurt?”
Before she could answer, one of the others asked, “What are you doing out here?”
The stranger took the bread, “I was separated from my ship.”
You looked at her with empathy. Of course, you could understand. She looked over at you as if to answer your question next, but she stopped, her eyes examining your face as if she knew you but was unable to place how. It made you uncomfortable, made your heart still. Has your past caught up with you all the way out here?
“She doesn't look dangerous,” the other woman spoke.
“Looks can be deceiving,” Halbrand spoke, and you were about to protest when you saw the point to her ears. Your blood ran cold, and you moved back from her.
“Remove your hand from me, sir,” the stranger spoke, her attention returning to you. “I know your face.”
You quickly stood up and stepped back. This could not be happening. Not here. Not now. Perhaps the elf could save you, or perhaps she would convince the others to throw you into the sea. The sins of your father would never stop chasing you, it seemed.
~
“I know your face."
His head snapped your direction at this revelation. What did that mean? How would an elf know you? He watched your reaction, the fear and shame passing over your face confirming that there was a story there. He cursed silently.
All day, he avoided looking at you. All day, he had convinced himself that you were nothing more than a naive human, that the warmth he felt had to be in relation to this new form getting used to the world around him. There was nothing special about you. Nothing at all. He repeated it over and over, though he never really believed it. He could sense the darkness and calamity swimming through the ocean towards them, the beast he had called, and he had convinced himself that your death would solve his internal struggle.
But now, this damn elf had reignited the curiosity with vigor. It felt as if an inferno burnt through him. He had to know more. He knew when the wyrm came, he would be unable to leave you to death. You were the most curious thing, and it was infuriating.
Who were you?
previous next
#halbrand x reader#halbrand x oc#sauron x oc#sauron x reader#the rings of power fanfiction#the rings of power x reader#trop x reader#trop fanfiction
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one year down, forever to go
emily prentiss x reader
monday morning guest— part two
a/n: i’m actually very surprised how much y’all enjoyed the first part of this because it was in fact a crack idea i came up with randomly !! but here’s a second part and i apologize if it sucks i really had no clue where this was going <3
a/n to the a/n: also my requests are open if y’all wanna request something :)
“you’re married?!” garcia was the first to exclaim and emily sighed in exasperation. she eyed her chosen family and knew she wasn’t getting out of answering this. at all.
“Technically i’m divorced now.” emily grimaced as she watched garcia’s face contort further in confusion.
“How can this be? How did you get married and divorced within the hour? You know I thought we were done with secrets after you faked your death but i see I was wrong and you actually don’t love me.” garcia grumbled as she threw herself on the couch in disdain.
“Uh- Penelope, this is not the same thing. I found out at the same time you did.” Emily scoffed as she ran a hand through her hair. She lowered herself behind her desk and made to pick up a file, hoping the team would take the hint. Wishful thinking.
“Oh no, none of that. Spill.” Tara grinned as she perched on the arm of the couch expectantly. Everyone follows her lead in getting comfortable.
“Aren’t there some case files out there you should all be working on?” Emily groaned, nodding toward their desks in the bullpen.
“Sure, but this is far more interesting.” JJ grinned with a shrug.
“Yeah, if I recall correctly it was only a little while ago that you were hyperbolically recounting my wives. And low and behold, you’ve got a wife of your own.” Rossi goaded.
“How many wives are you at?” Luke asked, easily distracted but ever happy to be included.
“Not the point, Newbie. Stop distracting. We’re here to learn about Emily’s secret wife, not Rossi’s 6 wives.” Garcia chastised, turning everyone’s attention back to Emily.
“God, I’m not getting out of this am I?” Emily asked, and when everyone shook their heads her shoulders slumped, and she accepted her fate.
-
backpacking through Europe may have been her best idea yet, or so she thought at least. y/n didn’t seem to agree. they were nearing the end of their spring break and as beautiful and adventure filled as the days had been— the younger woman was ready to get to a hotel.
“em, if we take one more turn you’ll be carrying me back to civilization.” y/n groaned.
“back to civilization? there’s like 60 people hiking the same trail we’re on.” emily rolled her eyes.
“okay and? i haven’t seen a mall in days. i’m going through serious withdrawals.” y/n sighed as they did in fact take another turn.
“oh stop your whining, we’re almost at the hotel. i told you, we could spend half the trip backpacking and the other half in the lavish luxury you dream of so often.” emily smiled over her shoulder, reaching for y/n’s hand to pull her down the trail.
“i just don’t understand. your mother damn near begged us to use her hotel and resort recommendations and you want to be outside. in nature’s home. couldn’t have gotten that from your mom.” y/n lamented, putting up very little fight as emily guided her further through the park.
emily listened to her complain for most of the days they’d been out but she really couldn’t think of any other person she’d want with her. meeting y/n had been rather serendipitous. she’d just started her mastered at yale and moved into this astronomically expensive apartment in georgetown. and she was hell bent on supporting herself. so she’d found a restaurant looking for waitresses and put in an application. on her way out the hostess had changed and she’d rather dumbly stopped at the station with the application in her hand.
“hi?” the woman chuckled, eyeing the brunette curiously.
emily’s cheeks reddened under the woman’s gaze and she cleared her throat. “uh, hi. they told me to give my application to the hostess but i don’t see her anymore.”
the woman leaned against the hostess stand with a chuckle and reached her hand out to accept the paper. “that was nina, she works mornings. i’m the evening girl.”
emily nodded disjointedly and handed the application over, “morning girl is nina. so that makes you?”
the hostess grinned and leaned a bit further toward emily, “that makes me y/n,” y/n looked at the top of the application searching for a name. “emily.”
emily smiled and rubbed the back of her neck, “nice to meet you.”
y/n smirked as she eyed emily, “you’ve never had a job before have you?”
emily’s cheeks reddened instantly and she grimaced, “is it that obvious?”
“yeah sweet. it’s real obvious. but you’re cute, so i’ll put in a good word for you.” y/n shrugged and headed back through the restaurant with the application. emily’s cheeks felt like they were on fire but it only worsened when y/n sent a flirty wave over her shoulder before disappearing behind the bar.
and from that day on they’d been inseparable. y/n was working her way through law school and even after emily had been rightfully fired from the restaurant, y/n had become her favorite person. somewhere during the first year of them knowing each other they finally gave into the ever present flirtation and got together.
that’s how they ended up in europe anyway. emily was graduating in a few months and this was set to be her last big hurrah of freedom before diving head first into work. she’d sold y/n on the beauty of europe and also her company.
“i don’t know if i ever told you. but anytime mother and i were in france, i spent most of my time with my grandfather up in his cabin in the french alps. there was a 10-year stretch where he didn't come down off the mountain. he had no electricity, no running water, and his food supplies came from the land. those were some of my fondest memories.”
at emily’s explanation, y/n quieted a bit and leaned in to kiss her lips sweetly. “well i guess it’s not that bad then. as long as i can get you drunk tonight?”
“i guess. not like i can say no to you.”
“not like you ever have before. if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
and drunk they did get. so much so that they woke up with little to no memory of the night before. rings on fingers and heads pounding. they were married.
-
“So what, now you’re like Rossi? A profiler with a hot ex-wife?” Tara asked as Emily brought the story to a close. Emily glared at the woman but shrugged a little in defeat.
“well she didn’t seem too upset when she left. if anything she seemed eager for something…” spencer pointed out.
“that’s right boy genius, she thanked me. a scorned ex wife wouldn’t have done that!” garcia nodded frantically, pinning emily with a glare.
“well we are divorced. i signed the paper but while she’s in town, she’s agreed to let me make up for the twenty years of marriage i’ve missed out on.” emily replied, cheeks flushing as everyone cheered and whooped.
“when? where? what’s the plan?” garcia pestered.
“i don’t know penelope, she only just left. plus with our work load who knows when i’ll be able to actually take her out.”
garcia shook her head in determination, “mark my words, i will make sure this happens. i can smell a second wedding already.”
emily looked at the tech analyst in disbelief and jj seemed to get the hint. “alright cupid, let’s leave emily to ponder her date ideas.” emily gave jj a grateful look as she watched her corral everyone out of her office.
second wedding was a bit extreme but she really did hope between her and garcia’s wishful thinking that she’d be out with y/n very soon.
-
“took you long enough. i thought you might’ve changed your mind.” y/n grinned as the hostess brought her over to emily.
emily stood with a sheepish smile, it had been 3 weeks since y/n had popped back into her life and as much as she wanted to get their date on the books— serial killers really stopped at nothing. “trust me, if i’d had it my way we would’ve been doing this far sooner. but alas, serial killers don’t care about my social life.”
y/n laughed softly pulling emily into a hug, “well i’m glad you could pencil me in. between solving your murders and jetting all over the US.”
“you make it sound so glamorous.” emily chuckled, pulling the seat out for y/n and taking her own seat.
“well there is a sort of luxury involved with having a jet.” y/n replied with a shrug.
emily rolled her eyes affectionately, “sure, when you’re not on your way to a gruesome crime scene.”
“well you got me there, you always did have a stronger stomach than me when it came to all that criminal stuff.” y/n smiled as she pulled the menu open.
“you know me, compartmentalizing at its finest.” emily shrugged opening her own menu as well.
“ah ah ah, i was there when you invented that excuse. it didn’t work then and it won’t work now.” y/n tsked.
“you really haven’t changed.” emily smiled with a content sigh.
“you know what i always say, if it not broke—“ y/n started.
“don’t fix it.” emily finished just as the waitress returned to take their order. with orders placed, a bottle of wine poured they both settled into a familiar volley.
“so you seem to know everything that’s happened to me in the last twenty years but i’m a little in the dark.”
“well i only know what your mother knows, which im sure isn’t much considering it’s your mother. but i’ll bite. after you graduated, i finished out law school. i think by then you’d started you undercover work though. started working and haven’t stopped since.”
emily nodded, “right right, and you got engaged while you were married to me.”
y/n scoffed with a laugh, “hey! you’re one to talk, miss i had to be resurrected. my engagement— while short lived was a big mistake. i was young and tired of being alone. but as i said before finding out i was still married was the least of my worries then.”
emily nodded sadly, knowing the pressures of loneliness very well. “loneliness will do that. also can i just explain my whole death arc, so you’ll stop holding it against me?”
“absolutely, be my guest.”
“so there was this super evil guy, i went under and he kinda fell in love with me—“
“fell in love with my wife?”
“shh! yes unfortunately he did. well obviously he went down for his crimes but he escaped prison and came after my team. and he really wanted me dead and impaled me with a chair leg.”
“a chair leg?! you can’t be serious.”
“yes a chair leg, and he got away. so it wasn’t exactly safe for me to be living and that led to me faking my death. and spending my recovery alone in paris.” emily explained.
“well where the hell is he now?”
“dead. my team was very adamant about avenging my death.” emily smiled watching the younger woman nod in approval.
“good. nobody murders my wife and gets away with it.” y/n glared before winking over at emily.
both women talked over their food, flirting like old times, and really just enjoying each other’s company. once their plates had been cleared, a waitress brought out a slice of pie with the words “happy anniversary” drizzled across the plate.
“well well well, you weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to make up for those missed anniversaries.” y/n smiled, holding a spoonful of pie out for emily to eat. she accepted the offered sweet treat with a furious blush, but couldn’t help to think just how whipped she still was for this woman.
-
emily sighed happily, pulling y/n through the streets of dc. one of y/n hands was wrapped in her own while the other held a bouquet of flowers emily had purchased no their post-dinner walk. when they made it back to the parking lot, they reluctantly walked over to y/n’s car together.
y/n grinned as she leaned against the hood of her car, emily’s hand still in her own. she watched as a smile curled on emily’s lips and at the sight of that dimple y/n pulled her as close as she could out in the parking lot. “well em, i must say this was a rather enjoyable belated anniversary celebration. i can only think of one thing to make it perfect.”
“oh really, and what would that be? you know i’ve always strived for perfection.” emily asked, eyes flickering between y/n’s eyes and lips.
“you always were an overachiever. glad to see that’s still the same.” y/n grinned, pulled emily into a kiss that lit their bodies on fire. if there was one thing emily prentiss could do, the woman could kiss. and 20 years seemed to only add to her skills. y/n held out for as long as she could but when could feel her heartbeat in her ears she reluctantly pulled away to breathe. emily looked down at her smugly and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. boy did she miss that.
“next anniversary is on me?” y/n whispered against emily’s lips.
“well i sure like the sound of that.” emily agreed easily.
one anniversary down, only about 19 more to go.
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I'm 85% sure I'm wrong and this is a silly ask but. Do anti lgbtq+ people think we're using the same methods as conversion therapy to make people gay?
YES! Oh god, they do so much!
That's where the 'groomer' and 'recruiter' rhetoric comes from and we've been fighting it since forever.
I'm not a historian by any means, but I remember late 90s-early 2000's people were so so so convinced that since we couldn't have kids naturally (-sighs on behalf of all the bi, pan, omni, et-al sexuals-) that the only we could create more gays and continue to keep our community was to target straight children and convert them to gayness.
Like that's what they think Pride festivals are, and any youth-focused queer groups like GSA, or any public display of queer joy- its supposed to bring in new baby gays to be converted into our way of life. Wherein we will like... poison their minds and make them hate their parents and god and capitalism and teach them to worship satan, become communists, and start believing in things like bodily autonomy. (I wish this was hyperbole.)
I am not kidding about this. Its not EVERY person, but it is definitely a very loud chunk of people who think that we're part of a cult and that we're after their god-fearing children.
And once you start pulling at the strings of this and American identity, it'll have you like this:
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which makes you shine
Eddie Munson x Reader you've stopped accepting compliments, which is not gonna fly with your boyfriend.
foreword: okay by clicking Keep Reading you agree to not perceive me at all. sacred oath!!! you promise?? title is from Which Will by Nick Drake <3 this one goes out to the bitches (gn) who can never take a goddamn compliment.
___
Eddie wasn’t sure exactly when you started rebuffing his compliments, only that you’ve been doing it with more insistence in the recent weeks.
He thought it was sweet, in the beginning, the way a passing joke of his about how hot you were could end in you blushing and rolling your eyes; or better yet, with a light shove to his chest that he’d use to his advantage, pulling you in by the wrists and smothering your face in kisses.
But lately you won’t even let him call you pretty. Lately, you’ve taken to cringing away from his soft-voiced praises- whining at him playfully to stop if you happen to be in public, outright ignoring him if it’s just the two of you at home.
It kills him. It really does. Not hyperbole. Every time Eddie gives you a compliment and it isn’t taken, a part of his soul dies.
It’s not as if you’ve forgotten how words of affection work- you’re more than comfortable calling Eddie all kinds of mushy things that make his heart sputter, his head in your hands, drinking in your love with a dreamy smile.
Maybe you need to learn how to bask…? Eddie’s not really one for complex psychology, but he’s gotta find a fix for this, and quick- this morning you were stretched out on the bed, sleep-warm cheek pressed to the pillow, and when he leaned over to kiss your forehead and whispered “Morning, beautiful,” your first action of the day was a frown.
Followed by a stretch, a yawn, and a question about going to the diner (which didn’t need to be asked, anyways- he always took you to Nell’s on Wednesdays; part deep-seated ritual, part his absolute lack of ability to say no to you.)
Eddie watches you now from across the diner booth, arms crossed in his leather jacket, tapping a finger mindlessly and arrhythmically against his bicep, mulling.
You’ve taken on the task of fixing up the two mugs of coffee, deftly peeling creamer lids and sugar packets apart, stirring both with the same stick, slip of tongue around the wooden stirrer to catch the drips. As if in a trance, Eddie watches as you wrap your hands around your own, sighing sweetly with contentment as the first taste of caffeine rushes in.
Eddie fights every base instinct that surfaces- looking gorgeous today, thanks for doin’ mine, pretty girl, you gonna come sit by me, sweet thing?- and instead takes his own mug in hand, rings clinking against the porcelain as he feigns casual and tests the waters.
“Nice bracelet. New one?”
“Oh- mhm.” Your attention shifts to the thin braided rope around your wrist, the trace of a smile around your eyes. “Max is really into friendship bracelets right now. She gave me green and blue, which I think is… good? Dunno. Lots of teen bracelet-making politics that I’m not aware of.”
Eddie chuckles, and your smile is swallowed up by the rim of your mug. A running mental checklist appears in his mind- so she’ll take the compliment if it’s of a thing. Interesting.
His plan was to start slow, maybe ease you in over the course of a few days, gradually picking up speed on the Compliments Agenda but he really can’t help himself. There’s morning sunlight spilling in from the window, and when you turn your head to look, it lights you up in a million beautiful ways and the words are gushing out before he can think to stop them- “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”
With a wince, you’re turning away from the window, light on your face and in your eyes dimming.
Eddie’s heart plummets. Falls straight to the bottom of his stomach. He says, carefully, aware of how thin the ice is- “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”
You blink, your expression neutral save for a slight pinch of confusion between the brows- “Do what?”
At first, Eddie thinks you’re fucking with him, ‘cuz how could someone as smart and self-aware as you have a blind spot this big; when he realizes your reaction is genuine, he tamps down the urge to spill his guts and show his hand all in one, instead opting for gentleness- “You realize every time I give you a compliment, you’re real goddamn loathe to take it?”
Another few slow blinks, and then your face falters, shame crawling up quick and sick like a wave- “No I don’t. Do I?”
Eddie laughs- just shy of exasperated- and slides his left hand palm-up towards you. “Sure do, sweetheart. S’like flirting with a very hot but very intimidating sorcerer and rolling nat ones on my charisma checks.”
You giggle, and though it’s muted with embarrassment Eddie counts it as a victory; your hand fits snug in his against the table, and he squeezes, wading out a little further into the testing waters now that the initial ice is broken- “Is it that I don’t give you good enough compliments? Hm? Need to up my game? ‘Cuz I’ll do it for you, babe- I’ll hit the books. Shakespeare and all that shit.”
This eye-roll of yours is steeped in fondness; Eddie swipes a thumb over the back of your hand, your eyes fixed on the point of contact as you say, softly- “No, it’s not you. It’s me. I just- sometimes it’s hard…”
The sentence sticks in your throat like a scratched record, and you shift in your seat, uncomfortable. Eddie can feel your overwhelming desire to pull away, to retreat, so he sets his coffee aside and adds another hand to the mix, feeling your pulse point jump beneath his thumbs. “What do you find hard about taking a compliment from me?”
There’s a soft sheen over your eyes, tears of frustration or sadness or maybe both as you struggle to find the right words. “I don’t- I don’t know, it’s like… some days it’s easy and it feels good. Other times it’s hard, like I can’t… like my brain won’t let me accept it.”
Around the coffee mug, your knuckles strain from tight grip, like you’re ready to crawl out of your skin and the only thing holding you back is Eddie’s hands. “Sorry. I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job explaining.”
“You’re doing a great job.” Eddie soothes his thumbs against your wrist, and you melt into the touch, just slightly, but enough for your shoulder to drop back into place. “So… it’s not that you don’t like my compliments, it’s just, sometimes, it’s harder for you to take them?”
You nod, voice devoid of any usual color as you whisper, “Sorry.”
“Hey-” he tugs at your hand, finally getting your eyes on his, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Thanks for telling me. Now that I know what the problem is, you’re lucky I got a cure.”
“A cure?” Incredulous but curious, your eyes stay on Eddie’s even as he leans back against the booth, dropping your hand to spread out his own in a jazzy flash.
“Yup. Eddie Munson’s Surefire Cure to the Compliment Blues in Six Steps. Now, normally-” here Eddie leans in, conspiratorial, casting a suspicious glance over his shoulder to the near-empty diner before saying in a low tone, “-I’d charge fifty bucks a step. My methods are very exclusive and in high demand, but lucky for you-ooo…” This last word at a higher, sing-song volume as Eddie straightens to his full height, sweeping a grand gesture through the air, “I’m running a special.”
Your nose crinkles in amusement. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You can have all six steps for the low low price of taking my scheduled compliments- once a day, at the time of my choosing, no takebacks or backtalk allowed.” Eddie’s elbows come back to the table with a thunk, eyebrows raised in your direction. “We got a deal?”
“I guess I shouldn’t pass up this great offer,” you intone, dryly, but with a hint of levity that has you shaking Eddie’s outstretched hand. “Okay. You got yourself a new student, Mr. Munson.”
“Please, Mr. Munson was my father- call me Dearest Professor.”
A genuine laugh from you has Eddie finding his heart again, pulling it up from his stomach to slam properly into his chest as he catches your eyes again- “Also, lucky for you, my offer includes the first step. You are so beautiful, and pretty, and smart, and I love-”
“Wait, wait,” you titter, nervous and breathless, casting your own looks around the diner- “We’re starting now?”
“Ah ah. No backtalk. That handshake was a sacred oath,” Eddie chides. “As I was saying- I love you. Your hair looks lovely like that. Sometimes I think about stabbing my eyes out like that Oedipus guy just to make sure your face is the last thing I’ll ever see-”
“Not sure Oedipus is the best role model for-”
“No backtalk,” Eddie says, sternly, with a finger point that settles you back into the booth. “Fine. If I was Orpheus I’d look back at you one million times just to see ya. Better analogy?”
The pull of your throat is rough as you fight to swallow down words, nodding silently instead, squirming a little in your seat but still leaps and bounds better than any aftermath of a compliment that Eddie’s witnessed in weeks.
“All right,” he sighs, ready to be done with pushing your comfort zone, wanting to take up the rhythm of your playfulness again something desperate. “Class is dismissed, for now. Good job.”
You glow under the praise- seemingly, a distinction between compliment and job well done, Eddie files that under his checklist- then ask, “So what’s step two?”
“Huh?”
“Of your… Complimenting Me Until Death course. Or whatever you called it.”
Eddie takes another sip of coffee, spinning the laminated Nell’s menu around on the formica tabletop- folks can say what they want about ol’ Eddie Munson, but DMing has given him a very special skillset of pulling things out of his ass and turning them into gold.
“Step two is ordering pancakes. Obviously. Get whatever you want, sweetheart.”
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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁. (PART IV)
summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: fourth and final part of this multi-chapter fic. PART I, PART II, PART III i've had such a blast writing this series, thank you all for your support and lovely words! now pull up the vitamin string quartet version of "love story" and enjoy!
Your heel dug into the gravel of the Bridgertons’ drive as you exited the carriage with grace. You gently raised your gown just centimeters off the ground as you walked towards the house, your mother and father following a fair distance behind you. You hadn’t stepped inside yet but your heart was already in your throat. You admired the front garden as you stepped up the marble stairs. Roses clung to the fences and wrapped themselves around the banisters decoratively. You took a deep breath. No matter what happens tonight, you told yourself, you will be alright.
The halls were lined with lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses of varying family names, old as the land itself. The sound of a string quartet wafted through the air, indiscernible over the chatter of civil conversation. You followed the dulcet tones, seamlessly weaving your way through the home you had come to know so well. You turned a corner and were met with an array of couples mid-dance, bodies moving with such effortless grace it was a pleasure to just stand by and watch from the sidelines. You surveyed the room, inspecting each man with almost analytical precision. One of them was your mystery man.
“There you are.” sighed Benedict as he appeared at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”
You chanced a look at him, and you wished you hadn’t. He was gorgeous; his hair shone beneath the warm glow of the chandelier, his eyes shimmered like moonlight bouncing off water. Mostly it was his smile (that shy, boyish smile) that set off a chain of dominoes within you, resulting in a nervous pang in your stomach.
“Have you?” you asked, keeping your response brief so as to mask the waver in your voice.
“Indeed I have.” he smirked, but his good humor quickly faded as his face took on a more solemn look. “I wish to apologize for the things I said when I saw you last. I was a fool, I still am.”
“Ben-” you began to protest, but were quickly cut off.
“No, really!” He went on, his cheeks taking on a rosy shade. “You were right in every respect. And marriage doesn’t have to be the way I described. You know I have an inclination for hyperbole. Anyway, please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear-”
“Benedict.” you said sternly. “You’re rambling.” You took his now trembling gloved hands in your own and met his gaze.
“I just wish you could forgive me.” he whispered for only you to hear.
“My dear Benedict.” you sighed, a sweet smile curling at the corner of your lips. “I forgave you the minute I left. I hate to admit this to you, but you should know I never have been able to stay cross with you for too long.” Now it was he who smiled, a beam so bright it alone could have lit up the ballroom.
“Well, then.” Benedict began. “There’s no use of a lovely lady coming to a ball just to stand around in corners, is there?” And with that, he gently led you onto the dance floor.
You fell into a rhythm that came surprisingly easy to you, as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. The strings filled the room with jovial, romantic music, lifting the spirits of anyone who would listen. It was impossible not to dance, not to feel as if you were floating. Your hand fit in Benedict’s like they were made for the sole purpose of intertwining. And when your eyes met, sparks flew, visible to no one but the two of you.
To anyone else, it might seem that the two of you were in love. What a silly thought. Though, you couldn’t help but feel that such an assumption might have some truth to it. You most definitely behaved in the childish, playful way lovers do. You confided in him without a shadow of a doubt. And he did always manage to send a certain prickle of excitement down your spine, not unlike the spark of an electric current. Good God!
You were in love with Benedict Bridgerton.
The song came to an end, and you curtsied before Benedict, while he bowed. You were sure he was about to request another dance but you were left wondering when Daphne tugged on your sleeve. “Where have you been?” she squealed delightedly. “Come, mingle!” You laughed, mostly from the nerves, as you shot Benedict one last glance over the shoulder before being whisked away.
You had made decent conversation and exchanged pleasantries with members of the ton for long enough. You were beginning to grow restless, your foot tapping mindlessly against the hard floor. You needed to find Benedict. You excused yourself sheepishly, but you had no time to give that any thought. You simply turned on your heel and began scouring through every room in search of Benedict.
You checked the parlor, the staircase, even the room where Benedict could usually be found painting or writing. He was nowhere to be found. Just when you were on the verge of abandoning hope, you thought to look in one last place.
The intoxicating scent of roses and lilacs overcame your senses as you stepped out into the garden. The lights from within the house bled out onto the patio, casting everything and everyone in it in a golden hue. There he stood, hands clasping each other tightly behind his back, standing straight as a pencil. He seemed to be deep in thought, since he was startled at your timid call. “Benedict?” He turned, his brows furrowed. “Tell me, dear.”
“I need to tell you something.” you began. “I have a bit of confession to-
“So do I.” he said, his eyes lowering to the neatly kept grass. “And I think I should go first.”
“What would make you think th-”
“It’s me!” he blurted out, not able to contain himself a second longer. “It’s always been me! Those letters, your admirer. Surely you must have known, somewhere deep in your soul, that it has always been me. Never before have I felt this way for anyone, my dear. Every moment I spend in your presence, it gives me such immense joy that I cannot help but carry it with me wherever I go. If you would have me, Lord, if you would have me- I should be the happiest man who ever lived, I swear it. I love you! Even when you are cross with me and I with you I will always love you with an unrelenting passion. Even if you should reject me, I will never stop loving you, for I have no choice in the matter. Surely there must be worse fates and than to love one so unconditionally.”
You stood before him, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide as plates and welling with tears. You tried to speak but couldn’t. So many thoughts rushed to your mind, memories of your many years as friends, every occasion where you felt what he described. There were too many to count. So instead of speaking, you simply took a step forward, pulled him in by his tie and pressed your lips to his in a kiss so passionate you knew right then it would become the subject of many sonnets and paintings from Benedict’s part. You felt as if all the golden light which bathed the garden was now wrapped around your heart.
“I wish this moment could last forever.” you said, a joyful tear streaming down your cheek.
Benedict laughed like a shy schoolboy as he wrapped his arms around you like a man starved and pulled you impossibly close. “Well, my love.” he beamed. “Forever has just begun.”
tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @i-padfootblack-things @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @enchantedbytomandhenry @dd122004dd @marvel-r5 @marimarvelfan
#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton angst#bridgerton
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I really love how Smokescreen was written. He’s not just the cliche cocky guy that hyperbolizes his strength, when in reality he’s weak and can’t back up any of his flaunts. Smokescreen has his merits, he’s super agile and no wimp. You’ll never see him refusing a task because it seems too great (minus him refusing the prime status but he knew his limits so it’s admirable regardless). I love how his flaws aren’t written as him being a nobody/can’t pull his own weight unlike how he shows himself. Instead his flaws aren’t with his mentality. He clearly had training, and learned so much from Alpha Trion and all of the studying he did. It glorified the idea of fighting and war in his young head, and he yearned to get out on the field himself, not realizing the consequences were so, so real.
He’s not going in completely blind when he wakes up from stasis on earth. Smokescreen clearly handled the cons before team prime showed up, using what he’s learned. He lacks the experience, not the knowledge on how to fight.
Smokescreen’s upbeat, overly optimistic and even competitive view on the missions he’s sent on reasonably drive the veterans like Arcee, Bulkhead etc up a wall. He is so clearly shown (in my biased eyes) that he has good intentions, especially with him telling Arcee “there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you guys” in the midst of him getting scolded. He has the spark to do good, he just doesn’t know how to go about it.
I love how we see him progress in the series, down to small exchanges where he learns to read a room and understands he needs to be serious. It all isn’t a game, nor is it as glorified as those books he read. He’s learned that. And what’s even better? He doesn’t let it harden him. He definitely hasn’t seen anything compared to his superiors, but he’s had his fair share of near death/painful/scary/traumatizing encounters within his short time on the show, but he still retains his silliness, and puts it on a halt when need be. He’s one of the few in the show who’s graced with a full circle of development and I wish more characters got similar treatment. Butttt I am grateful because I love smokescreen and he deserves the development lol
Anyways he’s been on my mind sorry yall for the ramble
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Ruggie's Lemon Cookies

A/N: I finally got around to cleaning this and reposting it. All for my Ruggie enjoyers... Because I too, am a Ruggie enjoyer.
tags: Ruggie Bucchi x fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, kitchen sex wc: 5.2k+
With Grim yawning in your arms, you raced down the winding dirt path towards the school. Your bag bounced and hit against your shoulder. Your breathing becoming ragged as you mentally scolded yourself for not waking up on time. It was an important day for you. The entirety of last night was spent on making cookies for the person you wanted to get closest to. The treats were shaped into hearts by hand since you had forgotten to buy a cookie cutter. You had made one big cookie for Grim without the lemon extract so he wouldn’t complain about not getting something for Valentine’s Day.
You loved him dearly. So, you thought he deserved at least one cookie.
The cookies were shoved into your blazer pocket. Crinkling loudly with each step pounding against the dirt as the school came closer and closer into view. Part of you wondered if maybe the lemon extract was a scam. If maybe Sam’s sales pitch on how you would get closer to the person you cared for the most was just a form of hyperbole for the romantic holiday. Not that it matters now, you still bought the vial of lemony liquid and used it for baking just as Sam told you to.
You entered the school with a sigh of relief. Your eyes darted around the sea of black uniforms for a familiar head of biscuit blond hair and giant, swiveling ears. He was a hard man to find without a cash or snack incentive. Unfortunately, you did not share any classes with the student you wanted to get closer to. All of your run ins happened on accident or when you managed the Spell Drive club. To which Ace and Deuce claimed you only did it to flirt with the hyena captain.
Which wasn’t entirely wrong.
Grim pawed at your blazer with a grumble. “We’re going to be late.” Grim sounded irritable, likely overstimulated from the busy hallway and chattering students. “No, we aren’t.” You whispered with one final swivel. You couldn’t see him. He had already vanished among the cluster of male students. Likely on his way to his class, or he could be skipping out for a hustle. You would have to catch him in passing, or make time towards the end of the day.
With a sigh of defeat and a hand absentmindedly patting the pocket where your cookies were housed, you walked to class with Grim against your chest.
-♡-
The day seemed to drag on. You had seen Ruggie in passes, your eyes meeting before the two of you hurried along. You desperately wanted to stop him for just a moment. But with Grim against your chest, or when he was trailing along near your feet, it made the situation not-so ideal. You would have to send Grim away for a little mission if you wanted to confess to the hyena you had your eyes on. You couldn’t handle any embarrassing comments your furry roommate might try to make while you presented your cookies.
Finally, classes had ended for the day. You stood up from the table and looked down at Grim. His jaw stretched wide as he yawned. Obviously drowsy and ready for an afternoon nap. You started to frown, wondering if you missed your chance or not. “What’s wrong, Prefect?” Jack asked, looking down at you as he stood and grabbed his MagePen, tucking it into the front pocket of his shirt. You straightened your posture, quickly offering a smile and a shake of your head. “Oh! Nothing! No problem!” You waved a dismissive hand as Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “She has cookies to give that stinkin’ sandwich thief.” Grim answered for you, crossing his furry arms over his chest as his eyes fell droopy and tired. “Grim the sandwich thing happened a year ago...” You muttered. You wished that Grim liked Ruggie. Because you liked Ruggie.
Jack’s tail began to wag, despite the face of suspicion. “They’re for Ruggie then? I see... So, you need to give them to him?” The beastman asked as his tail wagged faster. “Yeah! They’re just a friendly gift for Valentine’s Day.” You corrected quickly, not wanting Jack to assume anything unsavory about your intentions. But he looked happy that you were willing to make a treat for someone he looked up to. The most hardworking and independent person you could find in the world. It was only natural for Jack to have a shimmer in his eyes.
“Don’t tell him I told you this.” Jack cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his broad chest with a pout. It was cute that even now he tried to suppress his excitement. “He’s going to the cafeteria kitchen to clean out the leftovers for the week. Since it’s a Friday and they usually throw everything out.” A smile started to spread across his face as you felt a swell in your chest. You knew how Ruggie was about food. You had plenty of time to catch him now. “I’ll hold onto Grim for you.” The beastman offered as Grim perked up, waving his paws quickly in discontent. “Huh?! It’s just cookies! I don’t wanna go with you! What if you have fleas?!” The monster snapped in refusal as Grim picked him up under the arms anyway.
Dogs and cats usually don’t get along. “I appreciate it Jack. I’ll return the favor when I can!” You offered with a smile, ignoring Grim’s whines and groans of irritation. Small paws pushing at Jack’s chest as you patted your pocket to check for the cookies and you gave him an appreciative nod. “It’s just for an hour Grim! Jack, the door to Ramshackle is unlocked! Could you just walk him back?” You asked and when Jack gave you a nod of confirmation; you were off.
You didn’t need much of Ruggie’s time. But just in case things went south and he rejected you... You wanted to at least take a moment to cry in the bathroom. You swam through the waves of uniform clad students. Making your way to the large and surely desolate cafeteria. You waved goodbye to all of the friendly faces you passed. When they asked you where you were going, you told them ‘I forgot something!’ or ‘Mind your business’. The ‘Mind your business’ line was directed at Ace who threw up his hands in annoyance. But still smiled anyways.
You held your breath once you entered the cafeteria. It was empty. The rows of tables and the lingering smell of food made your shoulders sag as you finally released the air you were holding. Not even the ghosts were seen or heard lingering the now desolate space. Your eyes flickered towards the kitchen. You didn’t hear the sounds of shuffling or Ruggie’s familiar snicker. You were cautious, peering into the small space as a frown painted its way along your lips.
No one was here. Your shoulders began to sag and your eyebrows started to crease. You must have missed Ruggie on your way here. The kitchen was dim, no signs of anyone coming or going. Maybe the beastman was still on his way? But Ruggie didn’t play about free food at all. Maybe this mission was a failure. You sighed under your breath, a frown crossing your lips now. The disappointment settled in your heavy heart as you pulled the bag of cookies out of your pocket. The plastic crinkled in your fingers as you eyed the heart shaped treats.
“What are you doing here?” The question made you yelp in surprise. Bouncing the bag in your hands and catching them before they hit the checker tiled floor. “Ruggie!” You whipped your head around to greet the familiar face and voice. Your hands hid the cookies behind your back as you mustered up a smile. In his hands was a small stack of Tupperware containers. His stormy blue eyes grazed over your figure and he started to smile. “I hope you didn’t come for the leftovers. I already told everyone they were mine.” He snickered and made his way to the fridge. “No, no. I was looking for you actually.” You explained to him as the hyena placed his plastic containers on one of the counter tops. There was a curious ‘oh’ as Ruggie opened the fridge and looked among the overstocked shelves. “Looking for me? You tryna’ cash in on a favor?” Ruggie joked as you took a small step forward.
The yellow light from the fridge illuminated the dimly lit space. You gathered your strength and offered a smile, the plastic crinkling in your fingers as you pulled the cookies from behind your back. “I actually made you something. Since, today is Valentine’s Day.” You weren’t sure how Valentine’s Day worked in Twisted Wonderland. Or if anyone truly celebrated the holiday. But this was something special you wanted to do for Ruggie. Your tone was mousier than you hoped. The rummaging stopped and Ruggie glanced over his shoulder at you.
There was the light flick of his tail and he straightened his posture. Ruggie’s stormy blue eyes glanced you over and rested on your hands. His eyebags were far more prominent under the pastel light as expression softened. The beastman looked bashful at the thought of a gift. Usually he accepted things (that were free) with the upmost enthusiasm. “Was that today?” He muttered as the yellow light cast along the tiled floor was snuffed out as he nudged the stainless-steel door shut. His mission to collect free leftovers was now on hold.
“I thought that sweet smell was just you.” He snickered with a sly smile, making his way over to you as your eyes locked. There was a small sway in his steps. You could see the physical fatigue in his body even though he tried to hide it. “Can I have them now?” Ruggie sounded hopeful. You nodded and extended your arms. It looked like you were trying to feed a feral cat, afraid of being bit. And maybe you were. A heat bloomed in your face as you looked down at the tips of your shoes. You swallowed an anxious lump in your throat.
Instead of the feeling of teeth sinking into your skin, you shuddered as his hands gently grazed yours. Ruggie accepted the cookies with a satisfied expression. “You really made these for me? By hand n’ stuff?” You looked up to see how his smile had gone from slick, to genuine joy. The warmth that bloomed in your face left fluttering butterflies in your stomach. Dancing with excitement as you nodded in response. “Yeah! I mean, sometimes I bake. It’s whatever.” You tried to play things cool as you backed up against the island counter. Ruggie leaned against the counter next, right beside you as he pulled the yellow ribbon free.
In his left palm the plastic crinkled and he used his right to take one of the heart shaped cookies with a smile. You could hear the swish and curl of his tail against his oversized uniform as he broke the cookie in half between his large, sharp teeth. “I hope they taste okay.” You weren’t sure how much lemon extract to use. And you hadn’t tried any of the cookies yourself. “They’re great actually.” He corrected with a soft snicker as he moved closer to you. Offering the bag silently with his freckled cheeks becoming a peachy red color. “I only ever celebrated with my class in middle school. We made cards but that was it.” His ears twitched as you accepted one of the cookies to eat with him.
His joyful crunches made you smile as you ate your own cookie. The lemon was a little intense. You cringed at the taste and continued to chew slowly. Just a little flakey, and not too hard to bite. Leaving a nice soft crunch against your teeth. At least Ruggie liked them. But he wasn’t someone who wasted food. “I should have used more sugar.” You grumbled and finished the cookie, looking at the plastic bag in his palm with a flash of confusion.
It was empty already.
The bag crinkled in his fist as Ruggie hummed with content. “Nah, I think whatever seasoning you used was just too strong. The sugar was there.” The beastman dropped the plastic onto the island behind him. There was a growing warmth emanating from his body. “You aren’t picky so of course you would say that.” You joked; your confusion remained as you watched his ankles cross. “Did you say seasoning?” For some reason, your head began to feel clouded. Like a strange smoke filled your cranium and filled any empty space it could. “Huh? Yeah. Cookie seasoning.” There was a growl in his voice. But he wasn’t irritated. He sounded strained.
Your heart jumped in your chest. Ruggie tapped his fingers against the smooth countertop without a sense of rhythm. Like he was distracting himself from something. You raised your head from his crossed ankles to see that he was staring down at you. His pupils were huge. Big, black circles that turned his greyish blue eyes into thin halos. His eyes were half lidded as the warmth became stronger. You could feel your skin starting to prickle and sweat as you swallowed. Attempting to wet your cotton dry throat. “That’s not what it’s called.” You started to unconsciously remove your blazer. You were getting hot.
“What’s it called then?” Ruggie’s voice dropped as he watched you with a newfound intensity that left your posture shrinking. Something was wrong. But you couldn’t tell what it was. “It’s...” You almost said ‘cookie seasoning’. “It’s lemon extract.” You took note of your breathlessness. Your blazer was now bunched in your hands. Ruggie moved in closer.
His breath was warm, tickling the sensitive skin of your face as your heart pounded against your eardrums. Neither of you broke the stare. Even when you left your blazer on the edge of the island counter in a ball, you did not dare to look away. There was a pit in your stomach. A burning sensation like hot coals being pushed and prodded around. You were aroused. Painfully so. “What, like syrup?” Ruggie murmured in confusion as he attempted to carry on the conversation. A slender finger snaked itself into the knot of his tie and he began to tug it loose. You began to do the same with a soft sigh of relief with a whispered ‘yes’.
Ruggie’s face had become even peachier as the tie was discarded to the floor. You could see a thin sheet of sweat collecting along his exposed collarbones. “Are we allergic to lemons?” The question was silly and you started to grin out of amusement. The situation was almost laughable. If you were in a rational state, you would be freaking out. “No I don’r think that’s it.” You answered as Ruggie’s face was now inches from yours. He moved to stand in front of you as you dropped your tie to the ground with his. You now realized what Sam meant when he said you would ‘get closer’ to the person you baked the cookies for. But this wasn’t what you had planned on.
However, you didn’t mind the turn of events at all. The breath in your throat hitched as Ruggie closed even more of the distance between you. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you could feel the delicious sensation of his cock pressing against your crotch. How it strained against his uniform pants and how Ruggie slowly rocked his hips against yours. You really didn’t mind. His head bumped against yours as he moved in closer. Lips grazing with baited breaths mingling as he spoke again. “Is this a good idea?” It was like he was asking for your permission.
Even through the haze of whatever was in the cookies you baked. Ruggie still wanted to ask you. The hurried clink of his belt being tugged and removed made you twitch, the soft cotton of your panties becoming sticky as you grabbed the cool edge of the countertop. There was no one around. No ghosts or students or even paintings to witness what was destined to happen. No one would know what took place in the dimly cafeteria except the two of you. “I think it’ll be okay Ruggie.” You assured him through an exhale. And that was all the beastman needed.
Your lips meshed hungrily and you could taste the lingering citrus on his tongue. The hyena trapped you against the counter with his body. His hands gripped your sides and lifted, instructing you silently to follow his action. Between the wet and messy kisses, you did your best to get onto your toes. There was a thin trail of drool making its way down your chin. Your hands grabbed at the white collar of his shirt as your actions became clumsy and you mewled into his mouth. Your tongue rubbing lazily against his much stickier one. Ruggie wanted you to sit on the island countertop. With a small hop and some help from the beastman; the attempt was a success.
Ruggie yanked you to the edge so your legs relaxed over his hips. The hyena’s belt was hanging loosely around his waist as he stopped rutting against you. The quick shuffle of clothes left you breaking away from his kissing to look down between your parted legs. You craved more of his thrusts as you watched him pull out his cock with desperate pumps. The tip was flushed and oozing with a sticky, clear pre-ejactulate. Part of you felt bad for him.
Your heart aches as you watched with soft pants passing your puffy lips. His mouth peppered kisses along the side of your face. The soft space where your jaw and ear met. Along the exposed skin of your neck. All where you felt like you craved more and more. A feeling of starvation you had never felt before. You slipped a hand downwards and grazed his wet knuckles with the tips of your fingers. Ruggie’s kisses paused and his body tensed. You turned your head and gently nipped at his chin with a small pout. “Let me?” You requested, and he nodded without a word spoken.
Ruggie removed his hand from his cock and you cautiously took his place. You could feel small linear rows of something small and hard going up his cock. How sticky it was from him pumping and wetting it with his own pre. How the skin was velvety. How firm it was. How it throbbed and pulsed excitedly from your touch and only your touch. Your mouth began to water.
Your imagination began running wild as you thought about what the texture would feel like buried inside of you. Gliding furiously against your inner walls until your eyes rolled back into your skull. How he was the perfect size to hit every spot you needed to be pleased and teased. Just a little thicker than expected, but you could imagine the stretch leaving your legs trembling and your toes curling in your uniform shoes.
If Ruggie hadn’t been standing between your legs, you would have already clamped them together. The excitement pooled between your thighs as your mouth presses kisses against his throat. Your hand pumped uncomfortably slow and you allowed him to thrust steadily into your tightened hand. The hyena’s moans were soft and airy as he gripped at your stocking clad thighs. Squeezing and occasionally scratching his nails against the nylon while you stroked and teased him. “Does it feel okay?” You asked against his saliva slicked skin and he weakly snickered from above you.
“I’m easy to please.” He gasped with a smile. Ruggie shuddering as you pressed light kisses you pressed against his throat. Running your tongue against his Adams Apple and sucking gently at his pulse point. The hyena’s blood was practically boiling beneath his skin. His breath stuttered the same way his hips continued to falter when you tightened and loosened your fingers around his cock. You smiled softly when you realized that the beastman was struggling to find the hem of your tights. His skilled hands roamed along the sides of your body.
He bunched your skirt up, tugging and pulling at the sheer stockings with a growl rumbling in his chest. “I’m sorry, I can-” A squeak of shock erupted from your throat at the sound of fabric being torn. Your hand stopped pumping as you looked down wide eyed at your bunched up skirt. The view was blocked, but you could feel your soaked panties were now exposed to the cool kitchen air. You shook with a carnal excitement, unable to help the overwhelming arousal you felt. Ruggie tore your tights open at the crotch. “M’sorry.” He apologized under his breath as he slipped two fingers into his mouth to wet them.
You swallowed and continued to pump him with the same slowness. Yelpig softly when he yanked your panties to the side and pushed a finger inside of you. He wasn’t sorry. But you really didn’t mind.
The quick curl of the digit up against the soft spongy bundle of nerves inside of you made your body jolt with pleasure. Every time he hit that sensitive spot you would whine or gasp. A form of encouragement for the beastman as you tried pulling him closer with your ankles locking around him. His thumb rolled your clit into small, tight circles and he soon eased in the second finger. Your hole stretched easily as the lewd sounds of your pussy being played with left your face burning.
Of course you touched yourself. But you had never felt this wet and needy before. Not on your own. Your hand began to sheepishly attempt to guide him towards the hot, plush cavern of your cunt. You both knew it was what you wanted. But you were growing impatient. You needed Ruggie inside of you. “Wan’ me inside?” He whispered and you nodded swiftly. His hand slowed to a stop and you followed suit.
When the beastman rocked his hips against yours it had become a chore to hold back your loud whines. Feeling the round, wet tip of his cock massaging your clit as he attempted to catch your opening. Just barely sliding inside of you, teasing you as you clawed at his large uniform shirt now from frustration. Your bodies pressed together like puzzle pieces. Ruggie growled and huffed against the soft cartilage of your ear. With a soft sob, a few quiet pleas and kissing at the hyena’s neck; you got what you finally wanted.
Ruggie pushed in slowly. Filling you up inch by inch with those tiny studs massaging your inner walls as his cock forced you to stretch to accommodate him. The lack of preparation wasn’t something you could bring yourself to regret. The slight burn was bearable. Ruggie grabbed your hips and pulled you against him. Forcing you to nearly dangle against the edge of the counter as you gasped from the lack of support below. One of your legs had fallen, the tip pf your shoe just barely touching the waxed, checker tiled floor. Ruggie supported the other leg by lifting it to be hooked into his elbow.
The position allowed him to get even deeper. Spearing you with his cock as he began a steady rhythm with his hips. His head pressed against yours as he started slow. The pleasure was so intense that you desperately wanted to shut your eyes or look anywhere else but Ruggie. But he wouldn’t let you. One of his hands cupped your face and he forced you to look at him. To let him see the expressions you made as he fucked you against the counter as a lustful form of thank you for the cookies you made. The sounds were fucked out of your throat. His thrusts deepened and became pleasantly rough.
The glide of the barbs made your jaw fall slack as your sounds became pitched up. Insanely feminine and weak as you let him use you. The feeling of your hips connecting made your legs cramp up as he pounded into you, his teeth gently catching the lobe of your ear as you struggled to come back down from this new high. How it was a thirst being satiated you didn’t know you had. The heat in your face caused you to tear up. You wanted Ruggie to move faster.
But even when you rutted your hips in tandem with his, the pace remained steady. “I can’t go- Mmn. I can’t go faster. I can't, I can't.” He whimpered as he wrapped an arm around you as an act of support. His face flushed red as he pushed deeper and deeper, nudging those nerves with the round, mushroomy tip of his cock. “You gonna cum? Please go faster. Please?” You weren’t one to beg, but you needed him faster. You needed him harder. The muffled wet smacks of your bodies momentarily slowed to a stop as Ruggie adjusted you against him. Now, you were being supported by his body against yours. The counter dug into your back as your legs and hips hung helplessly in the air as he sped up upon your request. You cried out and held tightly to his shoulder. The white uniform fabric bunched in your fingers. Your other hand grabbed at his arm as though to steady yourself. Your breasts bounced with each rock as you were forced to take his cock and everything he planned to give you. All while looking up at him. His lips captured yours in another heated kiss as his hips continued to roughly rut against yours.
You were covered in sweat. So was he. Your mouth was filled with the taste of Ruggie. And he had the taste of you. You could feel the way that his biscuit blond pubes stimulate your clit as his cock kissed that sensitive spot deep inside of you. Filled with any and all unspoken affection the two of you may share for one another. You started to chant his name, as the pulses of his cock intensified. You wanted it. You wanted all of Ruggie inside you. He moaned your name in between a string of sloppy, wet kisses and glanced away only for a second. “Inside me?” You were asking him not to pull out. The lust had fogged your sense of clarity so greatly you couldn’t care to consider the consequences. That could wait. “O-Oh shit I’m cumming. I’m-” Ruggie never finished as he gave you a strangled cry and another round of stuttered thrusts as you shook around him. Your toes curled into tight whorls as you savored the feeling of his thick cum filling you and mixing with your own juices.
Your body trembled against the beastman, your thighs cramping from the tight position and the powerful orgasm as the two of you fell boneless against one another in the empty kitchen. Ruggie fought to catch his breath as he called out your name. All you responded with was a slight nod. You didn’t hear anything he said as his twitching cock continued to fill you with sperm. But you swore you heard him say something about ‘more’. And it was something you weren’t opposed to. If you hadn’t fallen asleep against the counter first.
-♡-
When you finally woke up, your brows furrowed at the soft sound of snoring. You looked around in the darkness, noticing that you weren’t in the school’s cafeteria any longer. Nor were you in your room in Ramshackle. It was a room in Savanaclaw, that much you could tell. It looked late, the moon round and full, high up in the night sky as you blinked awake.
A warm giraffe patterned blanket was pulled up to your chin and you could see a cold stone wall to your right. And when you looked to your left, you relaxed into the mattress. Ruggie’s sleeping face greeted you. He had an arm thrown over your torso from beneath the blanket and he was facing you. His body cozy and close, curled up under the big blanket with you. You could feel that you were wearing a large shirt and nothing else, and Ruggie was wearing what you assumed were the pants to the pajama set. It was the beastmans attempt at changing you out of your sticky uniform. You appreciated it.
You gasped softly when his droopy eyes shot open, and he met your gaze. He glanced away for a minute before slowly sitting up in bed. The shift of the covers started to fill you with a sense of loneliness. He scratched at the back of his head, his ears flattening against his head and you watched him fold his hands in his lap. “...Soooo…” He trailed off quietly and was unable to meet your eyes again. Before you could speak, the hyena began again. “I made a deal with Jack so Grim is having a sleepover with in his room… I washed your uniform,” He turned to face you and you could see a bright peachy flush in his cheeks. His eyes still couldn’t meet yours. “I folded it up and put it on my desk…” He nodded in the desk's direction, but you didn’t bother to spare it a glance.
Was he asking you to leave?
“I know you probably want to dash. I get it! Don’t even worry.” He laughed softly. There was a hint of disappointment that caused your brows to furrow. “I uh… I had fun. Even if you only felt that way because-” You sat up and gently pulled at his arm. He froze. Stormy blue eyes locked with your tired gaze. You felt upset with his despairing assumptions. “I made those cookies for you.” The reminder was gentle as you leaned in closer to Ruggie. He was silent. The room was so quiet that you could almost hear the pounding of his heart. “No one else.” You assured him and he nodded in understanding. You pressed your head against his, his warm breath tickled your lips as he spoke again. “Do… Do you wanna stay with me? Just for the night?” The tone of his voice indicated that he was hoping for a yes. “Can I stay?” You asked in a hushed tone and he pulled away slightly to nod.
The two of you laid down again. Facing one another as Ruggie moved even closer. With a comforting silence following, you allowed your eyes to shut as you prepared for bed. “Are we still friends?” He asked under a whisper and you hummed thoughtfully in response. “What about more?” You suggested and Ruggie snickered. “Yeah. That’s cool with me.” He purred softly and you felt his arm drape itself over your body again. Your other hand locked with the hyenas beneath the blanket and the two of you drifted back to sleep. You swore the taste of the lemon cookies lingered on your tongue. But instead of that sour and bitter flavor, it was far more gentle and sweet.
#lemon cookies smut#fem reader#aged up au#ruggie bucchi smut#ruggie smut#ruggie bucchi x reader smut#ruggie x reader smut
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Eight: The First Meeting
pairing: roboute guilliman x reader (fem.)
description: finding himself slowly tired of playing games Roboute seeks solace at the senate library only to find that he is not the only one doing the same.
warnings: none, reader is 2-3 years older than roboute (so he's like 8 and reader's 10-11) but nothing romantic happens between the two dw.
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The halls of the Senate building are deathly quiet as lawmakers and public servants occupy the countless meeting rooms. Sunlight streams through the marble pillars, lighting up the hallway with a warm white light.
The heat of the afternoon has yet to come but Roboute has already found himself with sweat over his brow as he jogs, mentally counting down.
Five…
He makes a sharp turn and nearly bumps into a pair of jurisconsults.
Four…
He makes another turn but quickly realises it leads to the wrong place.
Three…
He backtracks.
Two…
He stops in front of the familiar heavy set of doors that lead to the library and quietly enters.
One…
Roboute closes the doors and sighs in relief. He will not be found here. As insistent that child might be he would not think to look in the Senate library or be able to open its doors. All that was left for him to do was wait, wait until his playmate got tired of looking and found something else to entertain himself with.
‘Finally, some alone—’ He thought too soon.
He wasn’t alone.
He hadn’t been the moment he entered.
Standing on a ladder by the shelves you look down at him, a smug smirk on your face. “Marcus got you to play hide and seek didn’t he?”
The young Guilliman doesn't reply, too engrossed in analysing the stranger before him.
You wore a woollen tunic that bore intricate patterns at the hem woven in golden thread, a clear sign of wealth. ‘Perhaps, a noble’s daughter?’ but if that were the case he would recognise you. ‘A public servant’s then?’ but that would not match with the fineries of your clothing.
He decides you will remain a stranger until you introduce yourself.
“You’re hiding from him, aren’t you?” You continue to ask, overlooking his silence. Tucked underneath your arm are a series of codices on animal husbandry. “I mean, I get it. The kid’s a lot to deal with but…I feel bad y’know. No one wants to play with him.” He’s read them himself and wrote a couple of suggestions on how better organise the record keeping of lineages to ensure that no inbreeding would occur. He wishes others would have similar opinions.
Climbing down from your perch you go to him, a pout on your face at his lack of response. You’re young he notes, older than him but yet to come of age.
“You’re Roboute, right?” You ask, expecting to be ignored, “Consul Guilliman’s son.”
Finally, he answers, “Yes, I’m Roboute Guilliman.” It’s polite, almost dull but it’s an introduction expected of a nobleman’s son. ‘He’s exactly how the tutors describe him,’ You thought, going back to the countless times that some of the finest scholars in Mcragge raved about Konor Guilliman’s son, a prodigy, a boy mentally and physically beyond his years. It had sounded like hyperbole, like they were setting up an unreachable standard.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m…” You introduce yourself, holding out a hand for him to shake, “Senator Gallan’s niece.”
He shakes your hand firmly, exuding a confidence that you failed to notice mere moments ago and you realise that your tutors’ praise of the younger weren’t just empty words. Just like they said the young Guilliman was only eight years old but he was already taller and resembled an early adolescent more than you and from look alone you could see the acumen he holds. This boy is more than a prodigy. You could feel it in your bones.
And the very thought of besting someone like that felt like someone directly inserted three shots of pure recaff into your veins. You couldn’t even imagine the feeling of doing so.
So you hum and point to the set chessboard in the corner, “Now that introductions are over I could kick you out and let Marcus find you or…you play with me. I find myself lacking in decent opponents lately.”
It’s a challenge.
And it’s one Roboute would gladly take.
“Then. ,” he smiles, and you find it a little too wide, “I hope I can be a worthy one.” And he leads the way to the chessboard, excitement bubbling inside him. He’s heard of you before, of Gallan’s maternal niece that he’s recently taken under his care, and he’s heard of your intellect.
It’s thrilling.
The idea that he’s found someone who could keep up, someone who understood the intricacies of bureaucracy and maybe, just maybe he hopes he’s found a friend.
notes: struggling to write a childhood friends to lovers style of story because primarchs age weird. like their brains and bodies are so advanced but they don't have that maturity that comes with age yet. also I tried to incorporate some of the uncaniness you get from primarchs in general
#warhammer#warhammer 40k x reader#warhammer x reader#wh40k x reader#roboute guilliman x reader#roboute guilliman#guilliman x reader#⁍bhf#posting this half asleep mb gang if this is like word vomit
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